kate

21

[softvanillas]

what if i wrote a armin x reader that was friends to best friends to lovers college au with marching band…. would anyone even read that

and i write it super long and base it on somewhat true experiences of mine… i just wanna write :/

[softvanillas]

i want to do a aot as texts from my bf pt. 2 but he’s been into k-pop lately and i’m unsure of how well it will do…. thinking……

[softvanillas]

popping in to say i am currently going through an intense dramoine phase after starting hogwarts legacy

the chances of me writing something of that ship are very high

[eremikan-deactivated20230201]

malware.c

#define WORD_COUNT 10427

#define WARNINGS_AND_TAGS {hacker!armin arlert, con to dubcon/noncon to con to dubcon, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f! receiving), pussy job, dry humping, masturbation (f! & m!), mentioned toy play (dildo), cum eating, creampie, forced porn watching (of yourself), light spanking, overstimulation, HEAVY dacryphilia kink (TONS of crying), breeding kink, praise kink, heavy petting, implied aftercare, fear play and power dynamics, slight degradation and humiliation, pet names (baby, pretty girl), emotional manipulation, stalker and yandere behaviors, armin is unhinged and obsessive, ooc! just to play it safe, very dark themes!!!}

#define SUMMARY {armin arlert thought it was real cute that you genuinely believed your cheap VPN and nude-filled folder labeled as "homework" would ever be enough to protect you from the likes of him.}

#define NOTES {this is self indulgent and super fucked up. not that it should have to be said but: do NOT do this kind of shit irl! hacking is bad!!! okay anyway, carry along now hehe}

You should have known better. 

You should have known better than to trust the blond-haired, blue-eyed, pink-blushed, quiet-toned threat that sat beside you every class. 

Innocent was considerably the most misleading way to describe Armin Arlert. He appeared that way— gentle and polite, only speaking when prompted. But, it couldn't have been further from the truth. He knew it too.

He knew better.

And you should have too.

When asked why you chose to be a computer science major, you'd usually respond with some bullshit about how you "love" math and technology. You'd say you're enjoying the major, that it's fulfilling with how difficult it is. How you always felt challenged, but in a good way. That was a lie. If you were honest with yourself, you were on the brink of a mental breakdown every other day because of your course load, the never-ending cycle of assignments piling up on your back until you had to be the one to ask yourself:

Why did you choose to be a computer science major?

Was it worse that you didn't have an honest answer? Half-truths and the delusion you fed yourself to make it through the week were all you could scrap together. Despite the existential crises you rode, one thing kept you stable. Whenever you felt at a loss, all you had to do was look around and find everybody else's body already on the ground in defeat. There was comfort in that— knowing that you struggled but so did everyone else. Well, not everyone.

Armin Arlert was an exception to almost every rule you'd ever held to be true. Nothing about him screamed male computer science major. For one, he showered often. He was impossibly clean and neat, as if he worked extra hard just to fight the stereotype all of his other classmates only aided in feeding. So spotless you felt you were offending him each time you walked into class late with bedhead and a slightly wrinkled graphic tee. You figured you'd never catch him dead in a tee-shirt, not unless it were one for volunteering or a fundraiser. He dressed like he was always prepared to be taken home to somebody's parents. Sweaters with a white button-down underneath, the crisp collar peeking over the nice wool material, the non-itchy and probably stupidly expensive type. Everything about him was both domestic and yet modernly polished. 

You knew it made him cringe to see you with a Macbook laptop, the back littered with stickers that he was sure would never fully come off. But he never commented on it once. Armin wouldn't dare say a word to you unless you initiated the conversation. That was pretty rare, as you were slightly intimidated by him. It was no secret that Armin was top of the class— no, top of the major. But, one day, curiosity struck. 

"Why did you choose to be a computer science major?"

He blinked a few times before responding, ensuring you were, in fact, speaking to him, even with the physical confirmation of your body twisted to face him. 

"I want to make an impact on the world. It's evolving rapidly, and I'd like to have a place in it. Besides that, I enjoy using tactical and deep thinking, and coding allows me to utilize that side of myself. It's good exercise for the mind, I think. Our brains are capable of much more than we use them for. I just want to reach that full potential. I enjoy pushing myself that way. I've never really been into sports— only mind games."

Your mouth opened slightly, but you had no intention to speak. It's the first time you've heard the question answered without a stutter or slice of indecisiveness. His ears noticeably reddened after speaking, as if he was embarrassed he'd let himself ramble even if you asked him to. You made a quick effort to dismiss that insecure thought of his.

"Mind games? Like chess?" 

You appeared to be genuinely curious, and that was your first mistake. Your fatal flaw was how mesmerizing a glint of interest danced in the heart of your eyes. The sight alone warmed Armin to the point that his undershirt clung to his skin, and his hand twitched with a rush of excitement. So warm, he was curious what it'd feel like to burn. 

But, he never got to respond. The professor began class, and he could only watch as you sulked in your seat in disappointment. A final project was announced, and the entire class groaned in response. All but Armin, of course.

You frowned when learning that the project would be group work. The assignment was to be done in pairs, which were randomly assigned. Armin knew better than to get his hopes up, accepting that he wouldn't be paired with you and really he wouldn't be paired with anyone because he knew he'd be doing all the work, anyway. But—

"Hey so, what days are you free to meet up?"

Armin was unsure who to thank for his name being called right after yours in the drawing of groups. He knew total randomness in algorithms was virtually impossible. No computer acted on spontaneity, not like a human would, at least. Everything was calculated— Armin's whole life was calculated, much like a machine. But you? You were so painfully human in comparison. A reminder that Armin was not content in life, no matter how much he convinced himself to be. 

Occasionally, he'd hold his breath solely to feel the discomfort of his body's instinctual desire to conserve itself and survive. Any sign of life was a sign that he was still trapped in living it. He'd made friends, more than you'd ever know, as he was secretive about his social life— separating work from pleasure, you could say. But Armin was never truly content. 

He's too young to feel stiffness in his joints, but he can't help it. Something about him is so mechanical— static, almost. There's no give in his life, or, at least, he's never slipped up enough to see if anything would catch him if he did. 

Armin is so incredibly still, which gave him no time to respond to the sinkhole disaster that was your scarlet beating heart. So human and flawed, he finds himself choking on your blood as he carves a spot into the burrow of your chest. He'd build a home there, if he could— in the crux of your love. He fell so hard he didn't even remember to say goodbye to the man he used to be, and now all he can see is you.

Now all he wants to know is you. How you feel, how you smell, how you taste. He wants to devour you like the night does the Sun. 

And so, Armin knows it's not just some coincidence. The proclaimed random name generator was calculated, just like Armin. Calculated, but it felt like fate.

"God, I hate when it does this," you groan, leaning a little too friendly into Armin as he curiously peers over his shoulder to study your screen. 

"Another bug? Let me see," he reaches behind your back to carefully push your laptop towards him, allowing you to nuzzle into his side as you mutter something under your breath.

It's been hours since you first started working. You've been meeting with Armin almost every day since being assigned the final project, allowing you to get closer to him. 

Armin is surprisingly charming. He's a little reserved, but eventually, he softens to you. There's a lot to learn about the man hidden under the perfect, clean collared presentation and prestige of Armin Arlert. He's definitely not perfect, for one. You've caught him stuck at times; not understanding a pop culture reference you drop on him because he doesn't digest that kind of media. But he's quick. Soon he's the one learning about your fields of interest and is springing discussion you're not capable of carrying— flipping his weaknesses into your own.

He has these incredibly dark humor jokes you'd never expect to leave his always perfectly moisturized pinks lips. He has the cutest dimples when he smiles. He's an only child, and he acts like it too. He goes to bed before midnight and wakes up before the Sun does. He wants to get a dog in the future. There's no strong preference on the breed, but it'll need the capability to go on runs with him. He likes that his initials are the same letter; he finds the consistent symmetry to be comforting. He prefers hardcover books over soft— but doesn't everyone?

He's everything he's been claimed to be and more. You wish to know him in a way nobody ever has— nobody ever will. You wish to be his.

So, although all the other groups gave up and went home by now, and you're becoming drowsy, you remain right there beside him. You don't mind that it's a Friday night and you're missing a party you'll probably forget anyway, because you enjoyed your time with Armin. He made you feel smart when you were with him, despite how noticeable the gap in your intelligence was. He'd never judge you for your clumsy mistakes that caused a troubling amount of syntax errors or how you always forgot to add an argument while running your program even after he constructed the shell command to prompt for it. He'd never complain because he enjoyed his time with you just as much or even more. 

You were constantly praising him for his abilities, and he was continually shutting them down for your peace of mind. You didn't need to know everything. You didn't need to know his full capabilities— his mind games. 

"Ahh, yeah, that's a problem," he chuckles softly, pointing to the line in your script, "You never declared the last index of the char array to be null, so the computer is unable to parse through it correctly. It's the indicator that the input is done; the processor knows the segment is complete once the pointer reaches null. It's a bit redundant, and you'd think the program would just know, but it doesn't. To play it safe, I usually just set the whole array to null before the actual initialization process begins."

You nod slowly like you understand his explanation, but you're only partially following him. You heard some similar descriptions in class, at least. But you definitely didn't retain it as Armin did.

"It's a common mistake," he adds as he begins typing away, adding a comment above the code segment for you as a reminder before fixing the issue for you. You watch his fingers dance on the stage of keys with quick, confident, and precise movements. 

Armin was the kind of person who knew every single shortcut by heart, even on machines that weren't his own. During your first meeting, he inspected your programming setup, his eyebrows furrowed in slight distraught once he realized you were editing files in Vim on your terminal. It would be impressive had he not known you only did it because you were too nervous to ask how to set up your VM on Visual Studio Code with git and ssh keys. Noticing his reaction, you asked him what was wrong, to which he only responded, "Can I do something real quick?" He installed about twenty IDEs and debugging tools in seconds flat and cloned your Github to VS Code for you. 

That was one of the first moments you realized Armin was really out of your league computer knowledge-wise— out of everyone's league, really. He was sharp and humble about it all. He never made a mistake.

"I make a lot of those, I've noticed," you huff, but you can't help but smile despite your slight embarrassment. He chuckles in response with a shake of his head.

With him this close, you can fully take in his scent. Armin smells like a new car you drive off the dealer's lot in the pouring rain, the dewiness of fresh-cut grass streaming in as you lower the windows carelessly. Mellow and soft, like fresh cotton and gentle detergent because his skin's too sensitive for actual fragrance. He smells like the kind of hug that's unsure at first. A cautious grip around your body until he feels you hold him back, and then suddenly, it's a tight squeeze. He smells like how cool marble feels beneath your feet as you step out of the shower. Similar to how water tastes past midnight in your pajamas on a Tuesday night. It's neither sweet nor musky, practically unidentifiable— it's just Armin, and it's enthralling. 

"Hey, Armin?" You tilt your head up, peering at him with sullen eyes and an increasingly sleepy expression.

He gulps as he looks down at you, taking a short breath before replying, "Yeah?"

You smile before speaking, like his response was already more than enough, "I've been having issues with my Mac lately. I think I downloaded something I shouldn't have, and I was gonna bring it to IT, but... Those guys are dicks and don't even know what they're talking about half of the time. So, I was wondering if maybe you could check it out? Only if you want to, that is. I just figured you'd know—"

"Of course," it's a bit rushed, coming out much too quick, but the enthusiasm doesn't phase you. 

You nod to yourself before allowing your lids to grow heavy enough to shut, shamelessly dropping onto his shoulder as you drift into a light slumber. He stares at you for some time, figuring you'd finally been spent, and now he can actually get to work. There were about seven significant errors in your code that Armin noticed hours ago but didn't mention because he knew it meant less time with you. Now that you're asleep, he quickly cleans up your sloppy work, ignoring how his cheeks sting with heat as he feels your body's warmth against him.

He should probably wake you, staring blankly at your screen as his mind swirls with possibilities. He has a sinful thought, but shuts it down multiple times, almost afraid of himself for having it. He couldn't do that to you. No. No, he couldn't. 

So then, why did he?

Armin has an answer to everything but that. If he had to give it his best shot, he'd say it's adrenaline and mortal curiosity. 

So, just like that— Armin inserts one of his mind games into your laptop with shaky hands and a tight feeling in his chest, watching as his program begins to corrupt your computer and gain access to all of the remaining privacy you have left. He glances down at you while shattering your boundaries and stomping on your trust. He almost has to laugh. The process is quick and simple, almost too easy. Well, for someone like him, at least.

Armin was never really interested in using one of his creations with ill intent. It was more of a competitive thing he had going with himself after reading about the notorious USB Rubber Ducky and figuring he could do better himself. It was simply a fun project for him to do in his free time, but it seemed to come in handy now. 

All he needed was an Arudino compressed into teensy size and code he could have written in his sleep to pull it off. The device, identical to a USB, is detected by your computer as a keyboard or mouse. That meant he could send keyboard and mouse commands to your laptop, the system not detecting any threat throughout the entire process. He uses his expansive knowledge for iniquity and your ignorance for luck. It's excellent luck too. He's able to get all of the passwords to your accounts. All the information, even you didn't know, was kept logged and tucked away. 

Just like that, your world is his.

He fears for you in a certain regard, but part of him also finds it to be endearing. Armin thinks it's real cute that you genuinely believed your cheap VPN and a nude-filled folder labeled "homework" was enough to protect you from the big bad wolf that is the seemingly puppy dog Armin.

It's like stealing candy from a baby, but oh so much worse. There's nothing sweet about how he delves into your world without permission once he finally gets back to his apartment. 

It's terrible. Awful, vile, disgusting, cruel, really anything bad but make it tens times worse because, God— God, is it so sinfully and addictingly incredible.

His cock twitches as he furiously pumps it in an eager grip. He fucks his fist to the scandalous videos you keep tucked away for "safekeeping." The intent is unknown, but they're all recent and have never been sent to anyone. It crosses his mind that maybe, just maybe, he's the cause of the influx of nudes you've been taking. That's how he rationalizes it. He figures he's done nothing wrong because these pictures and videos, your everything, are meant for him. 

Ridden with guilt after coming all over his soft peak abs, he takes a long shower and contemplates his actions. He's in too deep to back out now, and he's unsure if he'd even leave if the door were open to allow it. It's an ongoing dilemma until he sees new activity on your iCloud, which he now has full VIP granted access to.

I think I have a crush.

Armin's heart races as he watches the three small dots of your friend typing a responding text.

omg who?

He waits hopelessly as you take your time to reply, his body tensing as he impatiently bounces his knee.

this guy who I got paired with for a CS project. he's so fucking attractive it's criminal.

Sighing with relief, Armin runs a hand through his hair as he allows the rest of the conversation to play out.

whatttttt??? you're kidding you told me all of those guys are creeps.

he's different I swear. super smart and sweet. and clean. pfft.

yeah? you gonna fuck him?

omg chill. you're such a perv.

well?

idkkkkk.

c'mon yes or no?

maybe... idk I don't think he likes me like that. he probably thinks I'm annoying.

I doubt it. you should make a move on him. I bet he'll faint.

you're so mean! I swear he's so cool. stop being a prick.

fine. but you really should just try. just flirt and wear a tight shirt or something. always works.

yeah yeah yeah... we'll see we'll see.

Armin checks out for the rest of your discussion, as all he really needed to hear was that slice of validation. He wonders if maybe he can have his cake and eat it too. And maybe, just maybe, he'll have a slice of you. 

It'd been eating him alive. He could barely look at you anymore, not without imagining you with your fingers stuffed in your tight cunt as you jerked and whined. Obsession was an understatement for the illness Armin was struck with when he fell madly and deeply in love with you. He knew everything about you. He digested anything he could get his slender and quick hands on. He knew about your family and friends; your entire existence was practically an open book to him. He felt that he knew you better than you knew yourself at times, remembering aspects you'd often forget, which happened to cause a few slip-ups.

"Armin, you have to try the new ice cream place that just opened up. I went on Wednesday, and oh my god, they make this boba tea ice cream, and it is to die for," you gushed while walking beside him after class.

"You went on Tuesday," Armin corrected you, causing you to raise an eyebrow in suspicion though a look of horror almost immediately replaced it.

Armin began to panic, afraid for your reaction and what thoughts were swarming in that pretty little mind of yours. He measured the believability of a few excuses and responses to whatever the following words out of your mouth would be, but was astounded to find them to be an apology.

"I'm sorry, that's so embarrassing. I totally forgot I told you about that place already," you looked down meekly, feeling caught for having such a bad memory as you tried to redeem yourself, "But, anyway, I was gonna ask if you maybe wanted to go together?"

You hadn't told him about it before. Armin only knew you went to the new ice cream place on Tuesday because you took about a billion photos of the cone, and it practically flooded your photo drive in the most annoying manner. He held back the urge to delete a few of the pics; because did you really need all forty-seven of them? It made it more difficult to scroll up to see your pretty face or body, or really anything that wasn't that stupid fucking ice cream cone. 

"It's alright. I forget stuff all the time." He started, which was, of course, a complete lie.

 "I would love to get ice cream with you, though." That at least was the truth. A strong one too.

He's unsure what's worse. Did getting caught yield more guilt than getting away with it? Regardless, he's grateful for your forgetfulness, and as a result, the overwhelming urge to protect you grew to be prominent. 

He'd seen you at your most vulnerable state, at the brink of an orgasm, eyes screwed shut with that shaky high-pitched cry you often muffled with your pillow. Hell, Armin's seen you naked more than he thinks he's seen himself naked. It made him feel in debt to you, in a way. Armin isn't really much of a fighter, though. He's never been overly physical, though he maintains shape with morning jogs and has recently picked up lifting to impress a certain someone. But, despite his passive nature, Armin knew above all it wouldn't be a barrier from his incisive need to shield you from the world.

You had mentioned a barista bothering you one day, making crude and perverted remarks that made you so uncomfortable Armin swears he saw your waterline on the brink of filling. He calmly asked you if you knew the worker's name, and you thought nothing of it, mumbling it into his chest as he held you in a tight hug. You never saw that barista again after that day. Armin had leaked information regarding the man to his boss and gotten him fired. But that wasn't all. To ensure you never had to interact with that man again, Armin also leaked his information anonymously to the police. It was pure luck that he found incriminating activities from him, but Armin would have found a way even if he had not. After all, Armin could always solve an issue if he put his mind to it.

Which resorts to now. The issue at hand being that skimpy little camisole you're wearing as if it doesn't give the poor man heart palpitations. The straps are digging into your shoulders just a little bit, the way it pinches your skin... he has the urge to bite you. Just to feel the give of the meat of your shoulder between his teeth. And your cleavage— God has favorites and it's not Armin because it is Hell on Earth to attempt to keep eye contact with you as you bounce in your seat laughing at one of the insanely dark jokes he just spewed. 

The short little excuse of a skirt you decided on wearing today also didn't help. Armin's noticed you beginning to dress a little more put together lately— fewer sweatpants and oversized tees and more form-fitting wear that left little to the imagination, not that Armin needed it. But this was perhaps your boldest move yet. He presumes you weren't trying to hide your advances anymore, not with how blatant you are showing up to his apartment that you requested meeting at because "The labs are too busy, and I work better in silence." and "My roommates are so nosy they'd never leave us alone."

 Usually, Armin would be able to avoid his temptations strategically, but you've become too much of an exception, and it was beginning to become a problem. Worst of all, in one of your latest videos, his name slipped right past your parted lips while fucking yourself with that dildo you appeared to love so much. That was his last straw. 

That was your last mistake.

"I think we're almost done. I'm just proofreading the report," you beam, placing a hand on Armin's thigh with a light squeeze before removing it and turning back forward to continue editing the Word document.

Your touch leaves a burning sensation on his skin. Even protected under the layer of his pants, it stings as it aches for more. He sucks in a breath with a delayed nod.

It's torture to be so close to you, huddled up next to each other at his desk that he pulled a chair up to accommodate a place for you. Every so often, he glances over and discretely gets a view of your tits, granted from the revealing low collar of your top. He's grateful that he can type without even needing to look at his screen for confirmation and even more thankful that you can barely type without looking at the keyboard. It allows him to peek as often as he pleases without getting caught. 

"I'm really happy we were selected to be partners. It's been a lot of fun working with you," you confess, tilting your head toward him as your lips curve up into an adoring smile, "I know that probably sounds weird, considering I'm miserable a majority of the time and frustrated while debugging, but, you know. It's been nice."

Armin smiles back helplessly, his blood pumping loudly in his ears as he scrambles for a response. For once, he finds himself at a loss, unable to speak anything completely coherent.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, it's been really nice. I, uh, I like you a lot," he clamors, both of his hands gripping his knees and creasing his pants in the process. 

A soft giggle tumbles from your lips, watching his cheeks redden like strawberry fields as blood rushes to the area. Feeling bold, you place a hand on his thigh furthest from you.

"You like me, Armin?" Your eyes drop to his lips before flickering back to those baby blues you dreamt of swimming in. 

"Uh, yeah," he stutters on a breath as you slide yourself onto his lap, back pressed into his chest.

"What are you doing?" He exhales in slight distress, unsure where to put his hands, ultimately deciding to let them go limp by his sides. He watches as you begin scrolling down the shared document on his laptop, finding the place you were on your own, and start typing again. 

"I don't know," you reply earnestly, ignoring the nerves prickling at your fingertips as you press them down into the keyboard, "Is that okay with you?"

He wants to comment that it's a little too late to ask. Your ass is already pressing into him, and it's as if you've injected venom into his veins as he fights his own body to not get immediately hard from it. 

"Sure. Yeah. Yeah, that's okay," he mutters in a strained tone, gulping silently as you shift on his lap to get comfortable, causing Armin to tense beneath you.

"I like you too," you admit after a moment of nothing but tension and calculated breaths, waiting patiently as you let grammar check process the document.

Armin doesn't know how to respond to that. Instead, he releases a pathetic sound that's a mix of a hum and huff. As if he's choking on his heart and can only release hot air onto the nape of your neck. 

You're not sure what to say either. You didn't think that far and were sort of hoping that Armin would have for you. He always had a plan; some decision made no matter the situation. Instead, you sit in silence. You sit in silence until it becomes unbearable and—

"Armin..." 

You speak so softly. So softly that Armin's afraid he imagined it, his heart jerking violently in the burrow of his chest in anticipation.

"Armin, you're hard."

"I-"

"It's okay," you whisper, slowly dropping your hands to pick up his own, bringing them to your lips. You kiss his knuckles carefully, each one given praise before you flatten his palms against your neck and drag them down your chest.

"It's okay. I like you, Armin."

He whimpers when you mold his hands beneath yours to squeeze your tits. His fingers dig into the light padding of your bra, a tiny gasp leaving you that sends him into a total frenzy of mania.

"You're so smart and sweet," you murmur, shutting your eyes as you begin to move your hips and grind against the length of his clothed cock, "And cool. You're so cool."

"Yeah?" It's not cocky. It's pure desperation escaping his trembling lips as he politely begs for reassurance.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I think you're kind of cool," you grin sheepishly, releasing your touch to allow him to grasp at his own taste. Your hands drop onto the keyboard clumsily due to your eyes remaining closed, the startling clashing sound causing you to swipe them open in embarrassment.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you rush an apology, knowing how protective Armin was over his laptop and figuring he wouldn't be too amused with your slip-up.

You scan the screen, prepared to delete any characters accidentally added to your document, but are instead greeted with something else entirely. Your mouth dries, your body frozen as you feel your lungs burn— squeezed under the compression of your growing panic. 

It's you. It's all you. Your naked body displays on the thin sheet of glass as Armin sucks in a breath.

"A-Armin?! What, W-what the fuck is—"

He clamps a hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he sighs as if he's annoyed. 

"Shh, not too loud," he hushes you, his other hand leaving your chest to grip your hip harshly, continuing the motions you halted as he drags your hot, barely covered by the thin material of your panties, cunt against him. He groans at the return of friction, his voice much darker and more profound than before. 

"I'm sorry, I really am," he hisses as he feels your teeth catch the skin of his middle finger, but doesn't flinch, "It's really fucked up, huh? Yeah, I know. I know."

You attempt to fight his restraints, but the extra movement only causes heat to pool at your core, Armin's hardness only punishing your body's resistance with every squirm and budge. 

"But, it's too late to be shy now," he argues, exhaling deeply as he feels your jaw slack beneath him, "There you go. Good girl, just... relax."

He waits until you've behaved long enough to ensure compliance to drop his hand, planting it onto your other hip as he listens closely while you choke and gasp for air. 

"What did you do?" You breathe, biting back a moan as your clit catches on the rugged fabric of his pants.

"A lot. I did a lot of bad things," he confesses, watching along with you as you grip his laptop in shock, a video of your finger tracing up your calf to your bare pussy playing. 

"Do I scare you?" His mouth is by your ear, and you whine as he presses you harder down into him.

"W-why? How could you?" You don't answer his question. You have too many of your own.

"I told you, didn't I? I like you. I like you a lot," his lips drag on along your neck before placing a gentle kiss on your pulse point, feeling it throb beneath him. 

"Do I scare you?" He repeats himself more directly this time as he waits patiently for your response.

"I don't know," hot tears slip past your cheeks and onto your lap, your body shuddering as you stutter on a sob.

"You don't have to be scared. I can protect you. I have protected you," he pecks your shoulder, the combination of your gentle giggle from the video playing and the silent cries you sing for him creating a sinful contrast.

"I want to protect you. You'll let me, right?"

You sniffle as you slowly turn back to face him, your nose becoming runny, all composure vacant as your voice shakes, "Please— Please just d-don't show anyone. Don't, I'm begging. I don't want to be scared. I-I don't want to be scared. I want to like you. Want to b-be protected."

"Okay," he coos, eyes dropping to the skirt that's shoved up over your hips as you move to straddle him, your tits dangling in his face as you lower yourself, "I promise, okay? I'd never hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you. Don't wanna see you like this."

That's partially a lie. Armin doesn't want to see you upset, that's true, but he can't hide the fact that your dampened by tears cheeks don't have his dick straining in his pants. Pretty— he thinks you look oh so pretty when you cry. Like an angel who scrapped their knee falling from Heaven and into the depths of Armin's Hell. Pretty. 

His thumb brushes underneath your nose, and he uses his free hand to wipe your eyes dry with the sleeve of his shirt. You feel yourself calming down— drowning out the sound of your light whine streaming in from his laptop. It's easier when you see his face. Easier to trust him though he doesn't deserve it.

"I'm gonna keep you safe. No one's gonna ever find this, mm? No one but me, baby. Is that alright?" His eyes race over the flux of emotions displayed on your features, finding a sense of submission under the flickering horror.

You nod timidly, avoiding his piercing gaze as you focus on his collar, fisting the material of his sweater in your hands as you grip it, "They were for you anyway... The videos."

"For me?" A shameless smile breaks on Armin's lips, and he almost sounds sweet, maybe even innocent, as he beams in excitement.

You yelp as his hands dig into your sides again, lifting you as he stands and walks you over to his bed. 

"I knew it. Knew it was for me," he sighs as he drops onto the mattress, the spring of the motion causing you to bounce on his lap as your palms flatten on his chest to brace yourself.

"I'm embarrassed," you blurt, eyes wide as you suddenly feel the need to take in your surroundings, jolting on top of him when you find your reflection on his laptop screen. When you focus hard enough, past the glare from his desk lamp, you remember what you've been trying to ignore. Your legs spread as you tease your nipples, the camera cutting off your face, but you're smiling like a kitten just barely in frame.

Armin grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, squeezing it as he carefully brings your face back to his. 

"Don't be embarrassed. You sound so adorable in them. Look so perfect. You drove me insane," his tongue swipes past his bottom lip, dropping his hold, his chest rising and falling with a drag of his breath.

"You're so pretty," he praises, eyeing you for permission as his other hand trails up your thigh, but it's not like it's stopped him in the past. He'd done a lot without your consent; he'd invaded your privacy without you even knowing. Him acting so polite now was probably compensation, but part of you didn't mind that. As long as he kept looking at you like that, everything felt like it'd be okay.

"Can I?" He asks directly, his fingertips playing with the heam of your panties as you nod, eyes anywhere but his.

His cock twitches as he peels your panties to the side, the way they stick to your wet folds causing him to mutter a soft "fuck" as you whimper at the cool air hitting your bare cunt.

"Never be embarrassed. You've got the prettiest little cunt. So fucking cute."

You almost couldn't believe Armin was speaking such crude remarks. It's as if a flip has switched inside him, like he doesn't have to act like the picture-perfect student anymore and can finally just be him. It's shocking, but you figured nobody would ever guess you thought it was fun to make borderline sex tapes in your spare time. Everyone had their secrets. Everyone had their games. 

He chuckles lightly when you grab his waistband, the way your hands shake completely contradicting the bold gesture. 

"You can," he answers before you could ask, saving you from the humiliation as you nod in response and begin undoing his pants.

His hips lift as you rise onto your knees, hovering over him as you pull the material down along with his boxers. You gasp when his cock slaps his stomach, precum dripping onto the expensive fabric of his sweater. Heat stings at your cheeks like a cactus prickling under the desert sun, the pale pink shade of his tip reminding you of ripe peaches and cherry blossoms. So delicate-looking and yet swollen and aching, desperate for your touch as you absent-mindedly swipe your thumb over his slit, scooping precum into your mouth as you curiously suck on your finger.

Sweet and tart. Enough to make your lips pucker and Armin grins at your nose crinkling up. 

"Not so good, huh?" He teases, squeezing your thigh before he sits up to remove his undershirt and sweater.

You shake your head quickly while replanting your hands on his chest, afraid to offend him, as you scramble to find an excuse, "No, no, no. It just doesn't taste—"

"As good as you?" He finishes your sentence though he knows it's not where you were heading. Your eyes widen at the insinuation, skin crawling as you hear yourself hum a raspy "Mmm." from his laptop's speaker. You turn to look briefly, watching your pixelated self lick up the length of your index finger that was just inside you moments ago.

"It's okay," Armin cuts off your moment of fruition, gaining your attention by tapping your cheek, "I don't want you to get your mouth all dirty like that anyway. You're too pretty for that. I just want you to kiss me. C'mere."

You hesitate before following his command, slowly lowering yourself as fresh and hot tears drop onto his face from where you hover over him. You can't stop crying. It's as if the flow won't reach an end, and you'll shrivel up and crumble once your body has finally had enough.

Armin swipes his tongue to the side to catch the wetness traveling down his cheek, flashing a warm smile as his hand wraps behind your neck. 

"You're such a baby," his thumb swipes across your jaw, taking a moment just to stare into the void of your dilated pupils before he sits up to meet your lips. 

You shut your eyes tight, allowing him to guide all movements, following his kisses like a lost puppy desperate to find a home. He tastes carbonated water and chapstick. His tongue slipping into your mouth has your mind fizzing, nerves bubbling and a pit forming in your stomach as he groans while deepening the connection. His nose is nuzzled beside your own, so close you're confident every breath you take is directly from his exhales. 

He pulls back to give you some air and releases the hand wrapped behind your neck, letting you sit up. 

"See? Much better, right?" He traces up and down your arm, both of your palms remaining flat on his chest as you focus on keeping your hips up to fight the urge to rub yourself along his length.

"Yeah, but... are you sure you really don't want me to, uh... y'know," you peer down at his abdomen, then back up to Armin, who tilts his head in amusement at your question. 

"You're eager to please," he grins, shaking his head lightly as you frown, "You know I can tell when someone is doing something because they think it'll make someone like them more and not because they want to. It's pretty easy to spot."

His hands find your hips, lowering you as your eyes widen in shock, a choked moan escaping when the length of his cock slots between your sticky folds. 

"You look to the left when you lie or feel uncomfortable, I've noticed," Armin sighs as you drop onto his chest, hiding your face into the crook of his neck as he glides your hot pussy along his shaft, letting your arousal coat him.

"I've noticed a lot, actually. I've noticed how you don't ever come in the videos. Not even once," his grip tightens on your hips, his tip catching your clit as he grinds you harder into him, "You fake it."

"As soon as you get close, you stop doing what feels good and just fake it. I've been wondering why for a while now, but I think I get it now. You're just too sensitive."

You whine into his shoulder, confirming his beliefs as you squirm above him. 

"You can't finish because you're just too sensitive to continue. Maybe even too scared to feel what it's like, mm? You need someone to help you. You need me."

You rise to look at him, hopeless and terrifyingly vulnerable.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl?"

You nod in a trance, dropping to meet him in a needy kiss that he smiles into. It's then he knows he has you. He watches as you sit up and begin moving your hips to his rhythm, removing your camisole and bra just to rip one of his hands from your side and demand he plays with your breasts. Armin wants to laugh at the gesture, not because it's funny, but because it's cute. 

"I want you," you reassure him, pulse dangerously increasing, a mix of fear and arousal plaguing your mind as you glare down at him, "I-I need you. Please."

He brings both of his hands up to massage your chest, pinching your nipples and sitting up to take one into his mouth as you continue rocking your hips down onto his cock. 

"God, you're so fucking wet. What a mess," he hisses under his breath, laying his cheek onto one of your tits as he turns to watch his monitor, smiling to himself as he watches the video playing. You're close, legs spasming as high-pitched sounds are dragged out from your parted lips, but there it is—

"See? You're so close, and then, ah- see? You're such a fucking liar."

Your eyes follow his voice to glare at the screen, a whimper leaving you as he cups one of your tits and nibbles on the delicate flesh. He's right. Armin's always right. The change is minuscule but there nonetheless. You watch as your fingers quicken to a pace that simply cannot feel good— forced pleasure that has your mind bored and senses dulled as you begin feigning sounds of bliss. It's bleaker than you had realized now that he'd pointed it out, causing you to still on top of him as you continue to scrutinize the act you've been putting on for years now.

"How long were you gonna wait to show me these?" He grins to himself, eyeing your shoulders, neck, and lips until he reaches those pathetically wide eyes you have going for him as they flicker to meet his. 

"How long were you going to suffer in silence?" He takes hold of your hips, picking up where you left off, dragging you slowly along his cock until a moan fights its way out of your chest. 

"How long, baby?" 

You're unsure. Ever since Armin crawled by the elbows and knees into your mind, you've felt yourself change. You felt the overwhelming urge to earn his approval. He always seemed to have things figured out, clean-cut where all you had were ragged, hand-torn pieces of scrap paper. Sometimes, not even that. He drove you into a frenzy without even being asked. He made you feel so painfully scrambled. He left you scribbling instructions onto a restaurant napkin or the palm of your hand so you wouldn't forget how to breathe. He drove you to create desperate amateur porn because it felt sinful not to document the insanity that was Armin Arlert imprinting himself into your life, your everything.

How long? You'd have to say you've been waiting an eternity. 

But you don't answer. How could you? You can't, not with his thumb dragging your bottom lip down before he slips his index finger past it and slowly lowers you onto your back. You don't even notice the switch of positions until your head hits the mattress, and suddenly he's hovering over you, slotted between your thighs with his finger in your mouth as you suck on it without a thought. 

He presses down on your tongue, guiding your mouth open as he stares at you with a crazed yet balanced expression. He adds a couple more fingers, letting you get them all nice and wet as his attention shifts back to his laptop. The first video has ended, provoking the next to play— Armin's favorite. He swiftly removes his digits from your swollen lips, sighing as he uses them to pump his dick as if it wasn't already dripping from your slick. He just needed an excuse to feel your tiny hot mouth around him once and indulge in case this was his last chance to take what he wanted. In case you came to your senses and realized just how unhinged he genuinely is— despite it all being in your best interest. Or at least, that's how he rationalized it.

"It doesn't matter now," he cups your face with his dry clean hand, not wanting to dirty the fresh obsession he has beneath him. 

Both of your hands wrap around the wrist of the palm caressing your cheek; a soft sigh of anticipation dragged out from your pout as he tugs his pants down completely. He taps your hip, gesturing you to lift yourself as he pulls your panties down to your ankles with one hand, letting you kick them off. He leaves your skirt on, only flipping it up to give full access. It's simply too cute to remove, he thinks.

Armin carries himself with unwavering confidence and certainty as he taps his tip against your clit, which catches you off guard slightly. Was it crude to have thought he was a virgin up until now? Possibly, but it's not entirely your fault. You couldn't have known that Armin was more experienced than you, not until now— that two of his close friends had taught him the ropes in hopes he'd be as successfully active as his male friends. Mikasa and Annie practically trained him to become what he was today, and just like in any subject, Armin excelled wherever there was a challenge to face. He never used his skills past those lessons despite their purpose, but perhaps he knew he'd save them for someone worthy. Someone who was in desperate need. For you. 

"Doesn't matter cause I'm here now," he finishes his thought, smiling slyly as he catches you staring at his cock with your jaw slacked, practically drooling at the sight, "Tell me what you want, and it's yours."

"Just wanna feel good," you muster, nails digging into his wrist as he continues to tease your clit, even going so far as to spit on it, so the sound of his cock hitting it sounds even lewder. 

"Awe, poor thing. C'mon be greedy. You've caught my attention; you've already infiltrated my every thought. You've overtaken my life, Y/N. Now tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."

"Armin, I just—" You sound frustrated, close to the verge of tears again with the way he stares at you so demandingly, making you feel naked beyond skin level, "Please, I just want you. Need you. All I can think about is you too. Haven't I made it clear enough?"

You tilt your head to his laptop, gesturing your long-lived desire before finding his face again, which softens as you continue, "Don't make me beg."

He pauses for a moment, his heart aching as he watches you almost cower into his palm, using it as a shield, your breath hot and sticky against it before he peels it away. He glides his hand behind your head, cradling it as he lowers himself to plant a deep and dizzyingly passionate kiss. Sloppy and wet as his lips clash with yours, you gasp into his open mouth when his tip prods at your entrance.

"You're right," Armin drags his lips down your jaw before finding a place beside your ear, his voice deep and concentrated as he slowly lowers his hips to sink into you. 

Your choked moan is raw and rugged, entirely contrary to his warm and crisp hum of satisfaction as he enters you about halfway and halts to speak.

"You don't deserve to beg. You've been so patient— I'm sorry. I'm gonna take care of you. Just like you need," he plants a kiss on your cheek before sitting up, grabbing both of your hips as he glares down at his cock being sucked in by your eager cunt. 

"Gonna make you feel good, and," he pauses as he drives himself further into you, sighing when he bottoms out, and you pathetically reach to squeeze his biceps, silently begging for time to adjust to his size.

"And, I'm not gonna let you fake it. I'm not gonna let you get close and give up. You wanna know why?" 

Your back arches as he slowly pulls out, feeling every vein brush your gummy walls as you clench down on him in response. He groans at your body's attempt to keep him close— so needy.

"Well, I'm not gonna stop," he ruts his hips forward, filling you again with one thrust that has your whole body shaking.

Armin grunts as he raises your hips to hit you deeper, setting a pace that forces you to babble on curses and whine his name. Your eyes squeeze shut as your tits bounce with every pulse, and Armin sucks in a breath at the way tears prickle before dampening your wispy lashes, clumping them together, each strang hugging the other as you hold him for stability. 

"Look at me," he commands, making your eyes forcibly swipe open as you struggle to hold contact with his, "Watch me fuck you. I want you to watch."

Your gaze lowers obediently, focusing on his soft abs prickling with beads of sweat as he rams his surprisingly thick cock into you, tilting himself up to catch the spot that keeps you twitching beneath him. 

"G-good, fuck," he slurs, squeezing your sides as he rocks his head back, "I've been waiting so long for this. You feel so good, baby. Better than I ever could have imagined."

His words trigger your memory, your body tensing as you realize the depth of what Armin had to of done to have your private videos streaming on his computer right now. How much did he know? How much did he know?

"I was waiting for the perfect time, after the semester ended, maybe. But, fuck, I couldn't have waited much longer," he grunts at your walls tightening around him, inklings of fear staining your body as you watch Armin smirk at your appearance. 

"I said I'm sorry. I know it wasn't cool of me to hack you like that, but I was curious, and you were—" He sends a particularly harsh thrust into you, emphasizing every word as he power fucks you, "So. fucking. tempting."

"I couldn't help myself. I can't help myself. You're just so cute. Naive and cute," his head turns to the video, and he perks up when he notices what part it's reaching— the part where you finally say his name. 

"Armin, turn it off," you tug on his arm, trying to catch his attention as you focus on sounding stern and not moaning to not stroke his humiliation fantasy, "Y-you're making fun of me."

"Making fun of you? No, no, never," his face whips back to you, shaking it rapidly as he slows his pace, dropping a thumb to your clit and earning an involuntary whine, "Why would I ever do that? I love the videos. I loved them so much; you had me fucking my fist every night."

"Y-you're just being n-nice," you suddenly feel self-conscious, stupid even— dumb. Of course, that's how he sees you. Naive and cute, like an idiot.

"Nice? There's nothing nice about it. I stole your data and got off on that lost privacy. Fuck, I even got off to pictures of just your face. I'm not being nice," Armin swipes his tongue past his bottom lip in concentration, trying to engage in the conversation but constantly getting distracted by your pussy death gripping him through your insecurity.

"I don't believe you."

Armin exhales deeply, stilling abruptly inside you before begrudgingly pulling out, trying desperately to ignore the filthy wet sound the motion causes. 

"Get up."

You blink at him blankly in response, gulping as he climbs off the bed and reaches an arm out for you to take. You slowly slide onto your feet, wincing slightly from the sting and emptiness between your legs before allowing him to guide you back over to his desk. He shoves a chair to the side, making room on his workspace for you before he positions you by your hips in front of the mahogany edge.

You don't question a single move he makes, complying with ease as he presses his palm flat into the square of your back, gently shoving you down onto the cool wood of the desk. He uses his index finger to tilt your head to the side, laying your cheek flush down so you're directed towards his laptop, which he adjusts to face you. 

"You're so stubborn," he notes while lining himself up, watching as your arms reach back to grip the edge of the desk beside your hips. Armin nudges his knee between your thighs, forcing them to spread so he's granted better access.

"If you don't believe me, we can watch together, and you can feel just how much I love these films of yours, mm?"

You let out a muffled protesting mewl as he enters you, slow and teasing. He folds himself on top of you so he can whisper into your ear, muttering fifth before he raises to begin his thrusts. 

"I'm gonna fuck you to your own rhythm, baby."

His hips slap your jiggly ass as he juts them forward, a low growl escaping the burrow of Armin's throat as he mimics the pace of you fucking yourself with a dildo in the video. He hits exceptionally deeper from this angle, causing your mouth to gape open to release annoyingly high-pitched cries, ones your sure penetrate past every thin wall this apartment holds and leaks into the halls. 

"Armin."

There it is. 

Armin grins to himself like he's received an award, his name streaming in through his laptop's speakers as your face burns in embarrassment against the desk.

"So fucking cute. Calling my name like that when you're all alone. How could I ever hate that? God, you can be so dense," he shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he watches your body jiggle on top of the space he usually reserves for studying and reading. 

"Armin," it's the real you this time, your whimper desperate and weak as your voice shakes, "P-please, don't make me w-watch. So embarrassing—"

You yelp when he lands a light smack on your ass, silencing you as he continues to rut into your soaked cunt. 

"Nuh-uh, this is important now. I want to teach you something," he dismisses as you tighten around him, heat spreading across his chest like a forest fire, a natural disaster that only drives him to slam his hips harder into you.

"See? You're about to stop, again," Armin notes, tsking to himself as realization hits you, again.

"W-wait," you stumble to find the words, feeling the building tightness in your tummy become overwhelming as your skin tingles and prickles, "A-armin wait!"

Your hands reach back desperately, attempting to stop his movements just like you're about to stop pumping the dildo inside you in the video. Armin sighs while collecting both of your wrists into one of his large hands at your back, not faltering for a moment as he continues his assault on your worst habit— the inability let yourself go.

"You're okay, baby. It's just me. F-fuck, yeah, just— Fuck, just come on my cock. I promise I got you," he stammers, finding himself reaching his own peak from how you're practically milking his dick right now. 

"S-scared," you confess, your body shaking, thighs tensing and threatening to close as Armin shuts his laptop to focus on you. 

"Shh," Armin coos, scooping under your stomach to bring you up to his chest, your back arching into him as his hand glides up your chest and neck, "I'm right here. Nothing to be scared of just— just let me take care of you."

He forces your chin to tilt to face him, eyes piercing yours as you silently cry a final shattering moan. Your blood feels like molten lava, muscles tense and then putty as you convulse in his hold. It is scary, but not so much when you have the calm and reassuring blue wave of stability in Armin's eyes as they glaze over you in adoration.

"There you go. See? Not scary. Feels so good— You did so fucking good. Fuck, I'm gonna come too. Gonna fill your tight little cunt— Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You can barely hear him, feeling limp against him as he securely wraps an arm in front of you and quickens his pace to reach his own high now that you've claimed yours. Your eyes slam shut at the overstimulation, but you can't help but encourage him with a small confession. 

"Please, Armin. Want your cum, want to be yours."

It's like you want him to die, and Armin practically does. He feels his balls tighten and mutters unlimited cusses under his breath as he empties himself into you. 

His lips are on yours in seconds flat, clashing mouths and small pathetic "thank you"s exchanged between spit and kisses. Armin smiles into your praise, kissing you back with fever and desperation— until he's forced to pull back just to breathe. 

His eyes lower to where you meet as he pulls out slowly, leaving you confused as he drops to his knees shortly after.

"Armin?—"

You gasp when you feel his tongue lay flat between your sticky folds, his hands spreading your thighs and ass as he delves into your dripping heat.

"Got you all dirty," he comments plainly, his tongue dropping to glide up your inner thigh, scooping any arousal that trickles down it. You cringe at the thought, flooded with embarrassment for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

"Armin, I thought you said that it was gross," you mumble meekly, referring to his refusal to let you take him in your mouth earlier.

He doesn't respond right away, too busy practically making out with your cunt, sucking on your lips feverishly, making a fucking mess of his face as he laps up his and your release. He has to grip your thighs harshly just to keep you steady, the slight pain only adding to the stimulation of his tortuous licks. 

"Mm, no, baby. Tastes like you. Fuck, you're so perfect," he ignores your concern, eating out your abused cunt like it's his final prize, a grand reward in his long-term hunt that's led him to now.

But it's not. It's not because it's only the first of many others because Armin has you in a suffocating chokehold that only his lips can provide CPR for. It's not because you get an A on your project and find yourself glaring at the sheet for next semester's classes with overwhelming irony hanging over your conscious. "Computer and Network Security"— a required elective that came a little too late on your end. But you don't mind, because truly, you got what you wanted. It's not because maybe you're not as intelligent as Armin is, but you're not dumb— 

"C'mon, let me actually clean you up now, yeah?" Armin raises after what feels like an eternity between your thighs, guiding your weakened legs to his bathroom as you nod in response, a small smile playing on your lips.

Before stepping outside of his room, you look back, searching quickly for that small red flickering light hidden and perfectly angled from your backpack. Your shoulders drop in serenity at the sight, turning back to an unsuspecting Armin as he nestles your body closer to his. 

He should have known better. 

He should have known better than to trust the seemingly clumsy, bashful, ditzy, shaky-toned threat that sat beside him every class. 

A cheap camera nuzzled in your bag with footage stored directly onto an SD card; hardware Armin could never corrupt with it hidden cleverly in the inseam of one of your old jackets. A piece of you and him he could never touch with how much confidence he held in himself over you— that he owned you in the multitude of ways he'd stolen from your realm. Insurance is what you'd have to call his confession, his everything all on a tiny chip. Or really, more so, a mind game.

Naive was considerably the most misleading way to describe you. You appeared that way— consistent mistakes, slip-ups and all. But, it couldn't have been further from the truth. You knew it too.

You knew better.

And he should have too.

© all content belongs to @eremikan, do not modify or repost

aot taglist (open): @hennnyyyyy98 @po3ticb3auty @shoto-daddy @sailewhoremoon @thebeardedmoon @i1k @kenmasbimbo @butterfliesroses @brooks-lin @yeagerfushiguro @cottonheadedninnymugggins @prblmtic @tashayy @arminscanongf @softjaegerhours @missyasma @thegreatgreenghost @dorkange @im-sidney @mamslovebug @lordbugs @its-me-miles @ghostbeam @gukitup @venusflytrapstar @nikkialex @magicboytrash @greeniegreengreen @dukina @dezibou

[aubrey-melinoe]

on some mushy, soft, warm, fuzzy bf Armin brainrot rn. (modern au)

ALSO STOP SPAM LIKING. I'VE BLOCKED SO MANY PEOPLE TODAY. COMMENT & REBLOG.

Armin is honestly such a softie of a boyfriend. he's loves cuddling you and loves kissing you every chance he gets. his hands always holding yours, or his arms always around your hips and your shoulders. his face always nuzzled into your tummy, your neck, or he's always putting your hands on his face, cause he loves being held like that.

Armin loves when you share his hoodies and sweaters and shirts. He always gets them a size or two, too large, cause they're softer and cozier. He love when you rest your head on his tummy or his chest, cause he loves combing his fingers through your hair, and watching you doze off.

Armin who wakes up before you, every day. On week days, he brings you coffee and your favorite scone or muffin, in bed, so you can lounge and relax, while he makes breakfast, then brings it to you. But on weekends, he stays in bed, holding you and whispering all his favorite memories you've made together, since you've met.

Armin loves reading his favorite books to you, and will let you highlight / annotate your favorite parts, cause it makes it that much more special.

Armin who pulls you closer, every time you hug each other, even though you're pressed together from head to toe. He pulls you closer, cause he doesn't ever wanna lose you.

Armin loves bringing you home flowers, every week, from your favorite florist, and he feels those same fireworks in his heart, as the day he admitted he's in love with you, and the day you had your first kiss.

Armin who keeps a private playlist of all your favorite love songs, on his spotify or itunes. He loves dancing in the kitchen and under the stars, and in your bedroom, to those love songs. He loves seeing you that joyful.

Armin who will make your favorite tea, when you have gossip from work to tell him. He's absolutely the type to say things like "Oh he didn't!!" Or "I can't believe she had the nerve!!" or "Oh my god, Good riddance to that bitch!!" or "Oh you're kidding!! Tell me more!" cause he loves seeing you so in the zone and so animated and focused on the subject. It's his way of reminding you he's always on your side, and that you asking for his support is his favorite thing. It makes him so happy.

Armin will get you a stuffed animal just cause, and come up with a reason like "You've been working so hard, so I thought maybe a plushie would help you feel soothed" or "You told me you were feeling tired as of recently, and I haven't been around cause of work, so I wanted to start to make up for it, with that plushie." or "You told me (your favorite color) was your favorite, so I thought you'd like it." He just likes treating you.

Armin is overall the best boyfriend. He's such a softie, and he'd give you the universe on a gold platter if he could.

COMMENT & REBLOG PLEASE & THANKS. CAUSE IK YOU ALL KNOW THE ALGORITH DOESN'T SEE LIKES AS INTERACTION. SO FUCK OFF WITH SPAM LIKES OR I'LL BLOCK U.

[softvanillas]

AOT and their college majors

one day i will write a college au series, but today is not that day. so here’s the prep for it.

Eren: Political Science (Minor in Criminal Justice maybe?)

when they have to do a practice debate, he wears this light gray suit and his hair is up in a bun

and for someone who barely puts any effort into his work, he dominates the room

when he and annie take the same classes, they’re always going head-to-head

those will be the only classes he puts all his effort into

Armin: Marine Biology Or English

okay so i feel like marine biology is just a given. he loves traveling and exploring and all things aquatic animals

he would probably intern at a aquarium and wear the khaki get up

can tell every single fact about a specific species like that one guy on tiktok

BUT ENGLISH ARMIN maybe it’s because i’ve considered english but

he would go for his doctorate to become a professor

writes some top tier essays bruh and loves classic books

ARMIN IN GLASSES THE CIRCLE ONES AND HE WEARS LIGHT ACADEMIA AESTHETIC CLOTHES

Mikasa: Sociology, minor in Child and Family studies

she’s the sweetest

idk i just see her wanting to do social work to take care of people especially children in systems or such

takes classes very seriously and tends to overexert herself

prefers to study in her dorm, mostly with armin (sorry eren but he never gets any work done)

Jean: Finance OR Nursing

i’ve considered finance simply because he would mansplain everything whenever he got the chance

oh you don’t know what crypto is? don’t worry your little pea-brain, honey. i got you.

but i do see him majoring in nursing because male nurses get it on

not really tho. he tries to pick up the girls in his classes but they’re obviously too caught up in studying and working towards their own goals

JEAN IN SCRUBS

definitely vomits on the first day of clinicals

Connie: Architecture

tbh i don’t know but i could see him with some blue prints

i actually don’t know much about architecture i just think he would work very hard and do very well

pencil behind the ear kind of thing

is always sketching and getting tips and ideas from jean

has a pinterest board

Sasha: Agriculture conc. Animal Medicine

you thought food science? too obvious

i could see sasha wanting to be a vet

she grew up on a farm back in her small town, waking up at the crack of dawn everyday to feed the animals

would make her family very proud, which she craves

sasha in a white coat and scrubs! hair up in a ponytail!

people tend to doubt her work ethic but i don’t think she gets enough credit for how much effort she puts in. yea she doesn’t really make the best grades in her classes but she gets praised by teachers a lot for how much she obviously cares

wants to open a clinic in her town one day :”)

Historia: Pre-law

i think she would be absolutely badass

she met eren in one of their shared classes and offers to help him out alot

he denied at first but after the first test he desperately needed help

will definitely become crazy good and top in the class and whatnot. she slaughters in the courtrooms and practices.

lives in one of those “day in my life” videos where she wakes up at 5AM, eats breakfast, meditates, stretches, studies, goes to classes, studies again, works out, and lives that aesthetic life

i’m jealous but whatever

Ymir: Barber school

usually can be found cutting connie and jean’s hair

she doesn’t go to the university but can always be found in historia’s classes and eating in the cafeteria

when men deny her service for “being a woman” she proves them wrong with her sick ass instagram page

honestly she could do some tattoos too, maybe on the side tho…. might not end up too well though

Marco: English or Piano

OK IM TORN BC HE PROB HAS THE PRETTIEST PIANO HANDS

would def be a great pianist with great musicality omg

writes music about his friends </3

but english because literature

he always has like 3 books in his bag and loves to edit people’s papers

would probably become a writer or editor for a big company

maybe even journalism??? hmmm

Reiner: Mechanical Engineering

he’s one of those STEM fuckers

i don’t know much about engineering i just know that it’s hard and it’s math and i hate that

can be seen running around campus to get to class, biting off more than he can chew his freshman year

always has bags under his eyes poor baby

doesn’t wear a booksack. absolutely raw dogs it everyday and just carrie’s his shit

athletic clothing everyday. never anything different. at a party? joggers. a fancy dinner with friends? nike sweatshirt.

Bertholdt: Computer Science

HE

once again it’s hard and has math and idc for it but HE WOULD

loves everything about it, is very passionate, would explain coding if anyone ever asked

can be found carrying his stuff in a canvas tote, with a button up shirt and some flattened trousers

he wears them men shoes. the fancy ones. y’all know the ones. maybe not but figure it out

builds PCs with ease. has every step memorized and if you ever have any questions he will be the best person to go to

Annie: Criminal Justice minor in Applied Forensics

she would probably become a private detective or something along those lines

does really well in her forensics classes which is like ?? damn bae u good

when classes show dead bodies she doesn’t even flinch no matter how gruesome

gets a job offer immediately out of college, which can be strange for a criminal justice major. she ends up working in a forensic lab and on scenes.

im jealous of u bae

[softvanillas]

hey guys i’m actually in college now ummm. yeah i still stand by this gn

[softvanillas]

i forgot i had this app

[thoughts-ofawriter]

am I still a writer if I haven’t written in weeks

[softvanillas]

sorry for my inactivity! i’m currently trying to finish up my last few weeks of high school and prep for college. it’s been putting me in intense depressive stumps, but i hope to get back into writing very soon. i’ve been coming up with new ideas i hope you guys will enjoy.

[moxpilled]

tell me

[softvanillas]

craving a good completed, multi-chaptered, mha fic with the bakubros and mayhem

[bokutosdove]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝

Things reach a climax when Porco discovers why you almost missed your study session. Meanwhile, Reiner learns to fight for what’s his.

♡ warnings: FMM action (you fuck both of them), dirty talk, fingering, oral, some gallirei (make-out scene), porco being a bastard

♡ note: here it is besties… the final part of “why him?” and “eat me.” as y’all can probably guess, you end up in a sticky situation and there’s only one way out 😼

Friday comes fast, and the football game flies by.

It ends with a win, of course. Just as you expected, Marleyan University beat Mid-East National University. It was a close call, but Reiner and Porco saved their teams’ asses at the last second. Everyone in the stands had gone absolutely crazy – your hearing has been fucked up for sure.

It takes a bit to squeeze between the shrieking masses and their jumping bodies as the teams leave the field.You take your time; you want the locker room to clear out before you see Porco.

Last night, he told you to find him after the game so you two could snag dinner and meet up with Pieck and Colt later. The text was short and simple, like all his texts have been since… that day.

Once the crowd dwindles – and you see all of the players grabbing their duffel bags to exit the stadium – you make a beeline for the locker room. With one quick peek, you glance into the entrance to see Porco undressing on one of the benches. He’s alone, thank God. Must’ve been taking his time on purpose.

“Hey!” you greet, giving him a wave. Porco is startled by your voice and whips his head around. Once he sees you, his blank expression erupts into a cheshire smile.

The way this man looks right now? It is almost enough to make you weak at the knees.

Porco’s neat hair is now a mess from the helmet, a few long strands sticking to his sweaty forehead and falling into his eyes. The football uniform doesn’t leave much to the imagination: the material creates a form fitting cut along Porco’s waist, shoulders, and sleeves – you swear you can see the indentations of his abs through it. His mesh bottoms stop right below the knees, offering a glorious view of those toned calves. You can’t even begin to process how tight those pants are to sculpt his muscular thighs like … this.

If you had no self-control, your jaw would be on the damn floor.

“What’s up?” Porco says, dropping his cleats on the bench next to his helmet. He stands up to stride across the locker room – there’s a slight bounce in his step that you’re not used to seeing. He almost looks relieved. “I didn’t see you out there. Thought you fuckin’ bailed.”

“There were a ton of people. It was hard to see from the bleachers.” You shrug. “I got a free ticket, too, so… I kinda couldn’t miss the game.”

“Yeah?” Porco stops in front of you with a snort. He runs his fingers through his hair to slick it back into its usual style, the tendons in his hand flexing. You almost die. Almost. “And what if I didn’t give you that free ticket?”

“I wouldn’t have shown up,” you tease.

Porco shakes his head with a derisive laugh. He tries to look bitter and feign annoyance, but falls short. “Wouldn’t put it past you after you almost missed our study session.”

Your smile wavers a bit. Yeah… about that. Part of you wants to explain why, but there’s no way in hell you’re doing that. Decapitation is not on the books for today. “Sorry.”

“It’s whatever.”

Time to change the subject. With a sweet expression on your face, you gaze up at him, rocking back and forth on your heels. Why do you feel so giddy all of a sudden? “You did really well out there though.”

“Y-Yeah, well – Thanks.” Porco stutters. The face you’re giving him right now has his heart lurching. It literally makes him scowl with how perfect it is. He has to clear his throat and swallow to not choke on his spit. “It’s not a big deal.”

God damn it. Get yourself together, he thinks. You look like an idiot.

“What do you mean? You scored a bunch of points. I’m sure Reiner appreciated the help.”

Porco scoffs at the mention of the other man’s name. He decides not to comment on it. “Everyone looked dumb celebrating one win. Ignorance really is bliss.”

“Wow.” You laugh and slap him on the arm, making Porco roll his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone that can turn such a good thing into a bad thing as fast as you.”

“Impressive, huh?”

“Winning is better than nothing.”

“I guess.”

Porco eases himself closer to you – a sliver of air exists between both of your bodies, your hips almost flush. It’s hard to ignore how nice his chest looks beneath the mesh of his Marleyan University jersey. It smells like him too, of course. An aphrodisiac citrus, with the faded scent of Yves Saint Laurent cologne and the saltiness of sweat. You want to inhale all of him.

A gleam of deviltry rests in Porco’s green-brown eyes, and it makes your gut stir eagerly: he has to be doing this shit on purpose. Knows the effect he has on people, especially you. This man isn’t blind to the tremors that flutter in your belly. With how close he is now, your heart begins to race.

“You gettin’ excited or something?” Porco jests.

“What? No.”

“Then why are you breathing so hard?”

You blink owlishly and focus on the rate of your breaths: your lungs are quickly expanding and constricting with every thump of your heart. He’s right. There’s no way you’re going to admit it though. “I’m not, but okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” Porco snorts. He wraps his arms around your waist and guides you closer, tipping his head down. There’s only a couple inches separating your faces. The temptation to bridge the gap between your lips and his is strong, as you want so desperately to shut him up.

Porco waits for you to wiggle out of his grasp, to push him away, but you don’t. He feels so many things at once: the booming of his pulse in his ears, the warmth of your body against his, the fabric of your shirt, soft and just begging to be stripped away. It only eggs him on.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Porco teases, letting out a breathy laugh. “Do I make you nervous, baby?”

The way Porco says it – fuck. It’s promiscuous. Sexy. A brilliant amount of heat gathers on your face and between your thighs. It’s a pleasant shock. “N-No…”

“You’re looking at me like you are.”

“I’m not.”

You offer him a wobbly pout, but Porco doesn’t respond – his attention is now on your décolottage. The marks he left on your throat peek out from the collar of your shirt: he sees them. And smirks.

“What?” you laugh awkwardly.

“They’re fading a little. Should add some more.”

Ah, shit. He’s going to see the hickies Reiner left on you too. Think, think.

You let out a forced giggle, placing a hand on his shoulder to push him back a little. Diffuse the situation. He doesn’t budge. “Are you trying to get me caught?”

“Maybe,” Porco continues, bold as ever. A gentle puff of his breath flits against your mouth. “I want everyone to know.”

It would be easy to bury your face into Porco’s chest, if it weren't for the eclipse of his eyes – the black of his pupils are so blown that the color of his irises are barely visible. You’re almost absorbed into the depth of the abyss.

“I want everyone to see them when you cheer from the stands,” Porco adds. His tone is licked with something intense and lustful as he leans in closer. “Want them to know that I’m the only person messin’ around with you.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah,” Porco says smugly, trailing his thumb to the corner of your mouth and then brushing upward to rest it behind your ear. “I don’t wanna share.”

All you can do is stare up at him. As much as you hate to admit it, the idea of Porco’s lips on you again, aggressive and expectant, has you so turned on. You just got here; it’s like his sheer presence has some sort of effect on you and your hormones. Maybe your perception of him changed more than you thought.

“Hey,” Porco says. He tries to smother the excited look on his face. “Didn’t your parents teach you that it’s rude to stare?”

“Shut up! I’m not used to this type of thing.”

“...There’s only one way to get used to it.”

A pleading twinkle must light up your eyes, because Porco shrugs and bites back a proud grin. “I can help you if you want.”

For whatever reason, you nod, and then he’s leaning forward to press a rough kiss on your lips.

You instantly respond, letting him take control, stiffening as he shoves you against the locker room wall. He doesn’t beat around the bush; the second you allow it, he’s sucking on your tongue. Every movement steals stuttered breaths from your lungs.

“You’re so rough,” you whine. Porco presses you more forcefully against the wall.

“I know,” he breathes. “I like it this way.”

Porco abandons your lips and begins to trail a few pecks over your jaw. Excitedly, his fingers grab the collar of the shirt you’re wearing. He tugs the neckline down, stretching it a bit – it’s easier for him to nuzzle the base of your throat.

You wiggle with anticipation, making Porco chuckle breathily in your ear. He latches onto one of the marks he left days earlier, sucking hard. He smiles against your neck when you sigh.

Everything should be okay. Reiner left his hickies further down, a little past your collarbones. They should stay hidden unless the shirt comes off. You’ll just stop Porco before anything happens.

“Mmm,” you hum. Both hands fly up to rest on his pectorals. “...What if we get caught–”

“Coach Magath already left to celebrate.”

“Are you sure?”

“I watched him leave, idiot,” Porco huffs. He’s annoyed that your attention isn’t completely on him. “Does this feel nice?”

“Yeah..”

Porco responds by suctioning your skin between his teeth. It makes you gasp from pleasure – and then in horror when he tugs the collar of your shirt down even more. Reiner’s hickies are right there; large and maroon in color. The naive part of you hopes this man doesn’t see them, that he’s too entranced in marking you up.

Suddenly, Porco pulls his lips off your neck with a wet smack. “I think I should make some new ones, yeah?”

“Um–”

At that moment, Porco nudges his mouth downward, eyes about to flutter shut … and then his body stiffens. He’s completely frozen now. Both of you are. Your instinct is to recoil, to run away, yet you can’t move a single muscle.

Porco doesn’t do anything at first. He just tries to comprehend what he’s seeing, taking a small step back to get a better look at your neck. The most deadpan expression washes over his face. It’s unsettling.

“...What are these?”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is shaky. Shit. “You did that, remember?”

“No I didn’t,” Porco presses a thumb into one of the hickies and watches it blanch. The purple color comes back, just as dark as before. “These are fresh.”

Motherfucker is too smart for his own good.

It’s crazy how fast Porco’s mood changes: his brows furrow intensely, jaw clenching, the most pissed-off look screwing up his face. You open your mouth to explain yourself, except you’re not even given the chance.

“Are you serious?” Porco sneers. He lets your shirt snap back into place. “It’s only been like – what? Five days since I was at your apartment?”

“Porco.” You reach out to touch his arm, but he rips it away, “Hold on.”

“No,” Porco grits out, “Who gave you those?”

Porco knows he’s being overprotective and controlling. But it’s impossible not to be; he cares too much. He doesn’t want anyone else touching you, whether it’s their hands, body, or lips. The fact that you gave yourself to another person so easily, so soon after that day … after he showed that he liked you? It’s unbearable. You got his hopes up.

Yes, it shouldn’t matter what you do; you’re not dating. You can be with whoever you want. Porco doesn’t slut-shame, and he knows it’s not your fault that he feels things very strongly.

But just because it shouldn’t matter doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. It does to him.

Porco doesn’t want to forget what happened that night with you. Forgetting it means pretending it never happened, and that’s not right. He almost wishes he hadn’t let you kiss him that day: because then he wouldn’t have had any sort of sexual contact with you, and it would’ve made this whole thing a lot easier to process.

Now he’s had a taste of you and it’s not enough.

An explanation is on the tip of your tongue, refusing to come out; each syllable slumps back into your throat to form a distinct lump right in the middle. You kinda feel like crying. Running. Hiding forever. Yeah, the situation could have been prevented if you didn’t seduce him… it would have saved Reiner a lot of anxiety about getting caught, and saved Porco from that poisonous heartache.

A familiar voice suddenly snaps you out of your stupor. “What’s going on?”

Both you and Porco whip your heads toward the entrance at the speed of light.

The first thing you see is that serious, slightly sunburned face. It’s Reiner, still in his football attire, his helmet balanced on a hip. He looks as delicious as ever: all muscle, blonde hair mussed up, stubble a bit overgrown. You admire at how well the uniform fits him, hugging his biceps and chest amazingly, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal those fucking spectacular forearms.

The amount of heart attacks you have almost had this week is concerning.

“What is it?” Reiner reiterates. He looks worried, his attention flashing between you and Porco. He shares the same panic; his back is rigidly straight, the anxious expression on his face saturating into his eyes.

“Nothing!” you and Porco say at the same time.

Perhaps it’s the way you and Reiner look caught in the headlights – sharing nervous glances with each other and hanging your heads – because Porco puts two-and-two together rather quickly. His voice comes out as a whisper.

“...What the fuck?”

Somehow, Porco gets even more pissed off. The enraged look that he throws at Reiner causes his cheeks to glow pink out of anger. You’ve never seen anyone's stare hold so much hatred before, but this man is the exception. He’s able to translate his feelings through his eyes only. It’s scary as hell.

You need to diffuse the situation. Fast. “It’s not that big of a deal–”

“Did you fuck him?”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. Porco just glares at you, his eyes narrowed, lips curled into a viscous scowl as he waits for a response. The expression chills you to the bone, renders you unable to speak.

The truth is, Porco isn’t even mad at you. He’s mad at the situation, how you didn’t even think to tell him what you did before he kissed you again.

Reiner is still standing at the entrance, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. The man looks like he’s torn between running away and confronting this shit-show. Instead, he tries to jump to your defense. “We didn’t–”

“Did you fuck him?”

“No!” you snap, raising your voice.

“Then when did the hickies happen?”

Undulation taints your every breath. Cardiac arrest is looking real good right now. “Like… two days ago? But we didn’t hook up, I swear.”

“So that’s why you were late to the study session, huh? Because you were busy getting into Braun’s pants?”

“It wasn’t like that…”

“Tell me,” Porco laughs bitterly. It’s so fake, so condescending. “Whose fingers felt better?”

Your heart drops. That’s personal information, your business that he should not be sharing aloud. Part of you wants to correct him out of spite and say that it was actually Reiner’s tongue, but you settle for a shrill,“Porco!”

“H-Hey,” Reiner says, dropping his helmet and taking a few steps forward. He’s trying to conciliate Porco. Bad idea. “I think we should all just leave and talk this over later.”

Porco instantly spins on his heel to glare at Reiner. “Jesus Christ. I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Porco, chill.” You frown up at him. Insolent words don’t come as easily to you as they do trickling out from Porco’s mouth. “You barely texted me after everything, so I thought you regretted what we did.”

“Well I do now!” Porco yells. He throws his hands in the air, frustrated. “I mean — c’mon! Why didn’t you tell me before I kissed you again?!”

Reiner perks up at that. His gaze flicks over your face, waiting for a confirmation if what Porco said is true. Those pretty lips of his draw into a taut line when you don’t deny it. He almost can’t believe it; you kissed him again? Just now?

“I’m sorry!”

“Okay, okay, hold on. Just — let me get this straight. You’ve been leading me on this whole ass time?”

There's a heavy sensation in your chest, lamentable and guilt-ridden: it causes the same amount of irritation as an itch prickling across your skin. You feel bad for putting Reiner into this position.

“No…” you begin to say. The truth is — you technically haven’t. It’s not as if you have been pretending to like him; it’s a hard pill to swallow, but you do… you like Porco. You wanted him to kiss you. That’s why you didn’t stop it.

“No?” Porco isn’t satisfied with your answer. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Guys…” Reiner tries to intervene. You ignore him.

“Because I can’t choose.”

Porco gives a skeptical look. “Choose what?”

“Between you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about—“

“Oh my god, I like both of you!” you finally yell. “Jesus!”

Silence.

In the matter of a second, Porco becomes a man of widened eyes, stiff as a mannequin, completely bewildered as to what you just said. Reiner just stands on the sidelines; he already knew you liked him – you confessed two days ago. But you like Porco too? While he had some sort of inkling, he’d hoped that it was wrong.

“I don’t want to lead either of you on, but I can’t help how I feel,” you admit. “Every time I think I have my life together, some stupid — mmph!”

Porco snatches you into a kiss that almost topples you over.

It’s strong and robust, a smashing of lips that’s capable of sucking the life out of you. You gasp in surprise, hands flailing as you clutch his forearms. The instinct to run is still there – but Porco’s grip is tethering. One of his palms is on your shoulder, the other cradling the back of your head to keep you in place.

You can only imagine what Reiner’s face must look like right now. The worry leaves rather quickly when Porco’s tongue pushes between your teeth.

Melting into the kiss with a long exhale, Porco keeps you squeezed protectively against his chest, giving Reiner the show of a lifetime. Your entire body sways into him, the loveliest shiver prickling along your skin when Porco scrapes his nails gently against your scalp.

Just as fast as it started, it ends. Porco pulls away to stare down at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips before his mouth blooms into a satisfied grin. He’s made a mess of you just from a single kiss; you’re practically putty. And it’s hot.

“Uh–” you start. Porco cuts you off by turning his head to glance at Reiner.

“I think I’ve won. Look at her,” he snorts. “She obviously likes me more.”

Reiner’s rooted to the spot, shocked as ever. His sharp brows pull together above those hazel eyes, squashing his features into the most disgruntled frown. You’ve never seen him like this before. He says nothing.

“What? You think you can do better or somethin?” Porco teases. He takes a step back, waving a hand in your direction. “Fine. Go on ahead. We’ll see who she likes better.”

Your mouth drops open at the insinuation; no way were they both about to make-out with you, right here and now. In the locker room, no less. You fully expect Reiner to leave, to brush Porco off, but he doesn’t.

You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he mulls over the idea. His expression turns into something more resolute. Determined.

This can’t be real. He can’t be actually considering it—

Suddenly, Reiner is making his way over in simple, long strides. He comes to a stop in front of you, waiting for a reaction, and moves a bit closer when you don’t refuse him. There’s only a few inches worth of distance between you both.

“Sorry about all this,” Reiner hushes. He guides you back against the wall, his gentleness a stark contrast to Porco’s ferocity, hands reaching to cup your jaw. God, you’re so beautiful; he tries to commit every one of your features to memory, tries to take in every bit of attention you give him. Reiner hasn’t stopped thinking about what happened that night, and being this close stirs up those raunchy memories.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek at the severity in his eyes, overwhelming yet delicate.

Reiner swoops in, urging your lips together into an enthralling kiss. His lashes bat against his cheeks when you give in and he exhales a relieved sigh, dragging you closer. You graze your teeth along Reiner’s lower lip — just a tiny bit, not enough to be considered obscene — and bring your hands up to rest on his cheeks, his unshaven face rough against your palms.

Porco watches in disbelief. He obviously didn’t expect Reiner to actually do it; he thought the other man would chicken out and abandon you on the spot. The fact that he didn’t back down from the challenge floods Porco’s system with an intense sort of resentment, stifling and hot.

Because not only does it prove Reiner isn’t a pushover.

It shows that he’s willing to put up a fight.

And that’s what riles Porco up; Reiner doesn’t see him as a big enough threat. Fucking shit. He wants to yell, wants to chastise the other man with fists and the burn of red words.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Porco snaps. His disgust doesn’t lessen, but dwindles into something more angry. “Back up.”

Reiner pulls away, and both of you gape at Porco. There’s a raw and excruciating silence where everyone just waits for the next course of action, pausing to see who will be the first to speak up.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Porco.

“So you still can’t choose,” he mutters. It’s phrased as a statement rather than a question.

“I don’t want to,” you say.

“Fine. Y’know what?” Porco shrugs nonchalantly, “I don’t think kissing is enough. You should let us fuck you. Then we’ll see who’s actually the best.”

Your mouth would drop open if you weren’t clenching your teeth. You were expecting a lot of things, but that was not one of them. The intensity in Porco’s face makes sentences stick in your throat and your belly ache; a moment or two is needed to compose yourself.

“Okay,” you breathe stutteringly.

Reiner nearly chokes. “W-what?”

“It’s fine,” you repeat, straightening up a bit as he blinks down at you. “I’m okay with it.”

Porco doesn't say anything; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce at any moment. He’s just waiting for the call.

“Are you sure?” Reiner stammers, “In here with — are you sure?”

“Yeah. If that’s okay with you…?”

Reiner doesn’t respond right away, his gaze roaming over your face and searching your eyes for some sort of discomfort. His lips twist in thought; he’s trying to decide if you’re under pressure.

The thing is, you’re not. You’re eager.

Everything you feel, Reiner must feel too, because he’s suddenly nodding.

“Finally,” Porco groans. He yanks his jersey up and over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side with his shoulder pads. Your eyes widen, flying immediately to the ripple of his abs – and then you watch as he starts shimmying out of his pants.

There’s a blur in your peripheral and you glance over to see that Reiner is doing the same. He toes off his cleats and then strips himself of his uniform and padding.

The two of them are athletic with muscle-bound bodies, Reiner’s frame being more sturdy and beefy while Porco’s is toned and lean. You salivate at the sight. Without a doubt, you're alarmed and turned on.

“Oh..” Your eyes pass between the both of them, unsure of who should be the focal point. There’s too much to look at right now; how their sinewy muscles flex with each breath, how much larger they are compared to you.

“C’mere,” Porco says, prying you away from the lockers and leading you over to one of the benches. “Sit down.”

You let Porco help lower you down until there’s the scrape of tinny metal tugging at the material of your pants: you grip his shoulder blades to keep yourself from slipping over the side of the bench. Once you’re seated, Porco uses a knee to spread your legs apart. A perverted curiosity grows within your chest as he steps away to loom over you.

Before you can say another word, a shadow falls over your face; it’s Reiner. He tilts your head to the side with a hand and leans down to envelop you into another one of those powerful kisses. There’s no build-up to it at all: his tongue immediately enters your mouth, scoping out every inch of it and making your heart stagger with delirium.

You can’t see Porco, but you can hear him let out a noise of disapproval. He sounds irritated as he kneels down, slotting his torso between your legs. “Trying to get a head start, Braun? Go ahead, you’re gonna need it.”

Reiner doesn’t say anything. He does increase the deepness of the kiss though, his palm tightening on your jaw. You hum into his mouth – and then gasp when you feel Porco’s thumb press onto your clothed pussy.

“Are you wet?” Porco asks. The question is so blunt, and it makes your face burn intensely.

“N-No,” you murmur. Reiner’s tongue runs along your parted lips; the way it swipes perfectly across your cupid’s bow, hot and wet, makes breathing really hard.

Porco laughs. “No? So if I check right now, your panties will be dry? You won’t make a mess on my hand?”

You can’t say you aren’t wet. It would be a full-fledged lie, of course. Right in your very center, you feel a hot thickness gathering, one that you know too well. Porco knows it too; he had felt it that night, your juices slathered all over his fingers and coating them in strings. Some sadistic part of him hopes that it will become routine after this.

When you don’t respond, Porco’s lips burst into a brazen smile, a grin smug and proud – it’s obvious you’re struggling. With practiced ease, he slips off your leggings and then marvels at the dark wet spot on your underwear. You’re honestly not even paying attention at this point; your hand is digging into Reiner’s bulge, making him groan breathily.

“God…” Reiner sighs. The gravelly sound and the sheer size of his clothed cock has your head spinning, the world swaying just a little.

“Can I touch you, Reiner?”

Reiner drags himself away from your lips then. You find that his pupils are enlarged, that expression dazed and hopeful, cheeks all pink. The rise and fall of his chest is erratic as he fights to get his breathing back under control.

It’s a tragedy — Reiner wishes he could speak, but you're so damn lovely that all he can do is nod at your offer. The burden of holding onto unspoken words is a heavy one; there's nothing he can do now besides lick his lips and deal with the fact that he's totally smitten with you.

“I’ll — oh!” you nearly yell out at a sudden shock of pleasure. Your head whips around to see Porco harshly rubbing at your clit through your underwear. He has a disgruntled look on that pretty fucking face of his. Give me more attention it screams. More.

“Eyes on me,” Porco huffs. You nod over and over again, loving that delicious friction spreading from your inner thighs and outward. Porco takes it upon himself to dive a hand into your underwear and slip two fingers between the lips of your cunt. He slides them up and down a few times before easing them into your aching hole.

The stretch makes you jump, but Reiner is behind you now, steadying you. His large palms are on your hips, and then slowly move up under your shirt. The underwire of your bra is lifted to make room for his hands; they make quick work of massaging your tits and plucking at your perked nipples, lightly twisting and squeezing. As much as you want to throw your head back, you keep your eyes trained on Porco – just like he wants. He stares right back up at you, curling his fingers and smirking at the way your face screws up. There’s a glazed look in those eyes: he’s greedy. Animalistic. It's hot and sexy and scary.

“Porco — shit, Reiner!” you whine. “I still want to touch you…”

“You first,” Reiner murmurs. His voice low-pitched and slightly hoarse; every word comes out as an erotic whisper. “The only thing you need to think about is how good this feels. Spread those pretty thighs a little more — that’s it.”

In that moment, Porco hooks his fingers right onto your g-spot and your body instantly jerks up, making you cry out. He grins, shoving your hips back down on the bench. “Got you all worked up, huh? He didn’t make you feel this good, did he?”

You instantly freeze up, mouth almost dropping in shock at Porco’s taunt. This shit? Right now?

Porco scoffs at your reaction. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” A broken yelp falls from your mouth when he digs his fingertips against that fleshy mound in your walls. He smiles wickedly, eyes snapping to Reiner. “Did you actually make her act like this? Or did she pretend to cum that night?”

You inhale and try to get your shit together, because fuck, you could cum right now — and peer back at Reiner to see his face. He’s giving Porco a heated glare, those hazel eyes narrowed slits, serrated and burning. You can’t recall ever seeing him this irritated. Perhaps it’s the curse of being in the other man’s presence. Porco’s short-fused temper is contagious.

Suddenly, Reiner moves one of his palms from your tits and brings it down to your cunt. Using fast movements, he starts assaulting your clit, fucking that poor aching bud with just his fingertips. It's so engorged, so pulsing and wet.

“Fuuuck,” you groan out. “Please, please, please…” The amount of pressure Reiner uses is absolutely perfect, and combined with the pleasure of Porco’s fingering, you arch upward. “R-Right there, just like that!”

Porco obviously takes it as a challenge. His expression hardens into something more determined when he picks up the pace, trying to outperform Reiner. Both of them use their fingers to fuck with your brain, their hands getting wet, their wrists starting to ache. You look so pretty when your eyes start to roll back, almost crying, nearly blind from the sheer amount of bliss you’re feeling.

It becomes a battle of who is going to make you cum first: your tits are groped and hit, your clit pinched and rubbed and slapped. Someone’s fingers are spreading and rubbing around your sloppy folds — Reiner’s, they have to be — while Porco’s are inside of you, seeing how many he can fit.

“Oh my god,” you pant. “I’m close–”

“I can tell,” Porco says proudly. “You’re clenching down.”

“F-Fuck, Reiner – Porco…”

“It’s okay,” Reiner hushes.

With Reiner’s ministrations on your clit, and a few more slams into your gummy walls, Porco lets out a sharp command. “Cum on my hand.”

It’s almost second-nature with how fast you give in, and fuck, the orgasm is strong. You gush around Porco’s fingers, thrashing and calling out both of their names.

“I know, princess, I know,” Reiner whispers, slowing up his speed on your clit as you shake uncontrollably. Porco is less merciful; he scoffs at how you wiggle, continuing to plunge his fingers into your convulsing pussy. It’s only when you try to close your thighs — panting and whimpering about how overstimulated you are — when Porco lets up.

“Are you okay?” Reiner asks carefully. He presses a kiss against your temple and takes his hand off your thrumming clit, giving it a well-needed break. You nod.

“Y-Yeah.”

Porco furrows his brows and grumbles at the display of affection. “You two gonna keep actin’ like this is a honeymoon, or are we actually going to get somewhere?”

Despite feeling the fuzzy grogginess that always comes after a mind-boggling orgasm, you’re able to summon a mocking tone of voice. Whether it’s a good idea or not, who knows? You don’t give a fuck anymore. “Why? You’re that impatient, Pock?”

That dreaded nickname does the trick; annoyance glints in Porco’s eyes, showing in the way his face twists uncomfortably. “Fuck you,” he snorts. “Fuck you. I can’t wait any longer.”

Porco rises to his feet and lowers his boxers to pull his hard cock out. A shaky breath expels from his lungs as that aching pressure is finally released. His dick whips against his bare abdomen, a dark red, thick and jumping with every beat of his pulse. He’s definitely packing, holy shit.

“Please hurry,” you beg. Reiner opens his mouth to say something — you can see it from the corner of your eye — but then you’re reaching over and grappling at his boxers. You use the waistband to tug him forward until his bulge is right in front of your face. He’s needed, needed right now.

A tiny humph of surprise falls from Reiner’s lips when you rip the boxers down. Eagerly, you take his cock out and marvel at it; it’s nice and long, heavy in your hand, warm and flushed rosy. You tease the tip with a thumb and just brush it over, feeling the precum beneath it. Reiner is such a strong man, yet the way he whimpers in that moment? He sounds so small, so fragile.

You automatically open your mouth, and without giving him time to think, slide his cock in along your tongue.

“Oh, God…” Reiner sighs. He curls a palm around the back of your head, subconsciously guiding you to take more of his dick down your throat. A wave of shudders come from him when you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head. You’ve never really done anything like this before, but you can tell you’re doing a good job: Reiner grinds his hips into your mouth uncontrollably. A little bolder, you roll your tongue around the opening of his cock, and then dart it around the vein up his shaft. His fingers curl against your scalp in response. “That’s perfect — good girl, just like that.”

Meanwhile, Porco’s cock rests right on your opening. He’s paused for the time being; his eyes are busy studying Reiner’s dick and how you mess around with it. And shit, it’s embarrassing … but he actually enjoys watching. What that says about him, Porco doesn’t know. Like hell he’s going to wait to find out.

“I’m putting it in,” Porco grumbles. He slips the head of his cock so easily past your swollen folds, groaning at the slick heat of your cunt. Your tongue lolls as you’re stuffed beyond comprehension, both your mouth and pussy a mess with the cocks clogging them up.

“Fuck,” Porco rasps. “So damn tight.”

“Porco…” you gasp, disconnecting from Reiner’s cock for a second to plead. “Fuck me, please.”

Porco literally growls. His beautiful, green irises brim with a carnality he can't suppress, making him go absolutely feral. The way your pussy clamps down on him is too much. “Yeah? You want that? You want to feel me fucking deep into your gut until my cum warms your little belly? Does that sound like what you want?”

“Yes, yes—” your cry is cut off by Reiner’s cock slipping back into your mouth. You moan, the vibrations rippling up the shaft’s ridges and causing him to groan. You’re all so pent up, so ready to just lose it.

With one short movement, Porco rips his cock out and shoves it back in. Reiner prevents you from crying out by fucking into your drooling mouth, making your sentences come out as a garble of incoherent noises. You’re rutted into on both ends, gross sucking sounds coming from each of your holes.

Porco hisses through a clenched jaw as he meets your hips in needy, wild bucks. “Your pussy is sucking me in,” he grunts in disbelief. “Jerking off my dick… F-Feels amazing.”

“Such a good girl, so pretty.” Reiner bites his lip after seeing your face, how your jaw is dropped open to invite his cockhead in. “Fuck, fuck baby, fuck.”

“God, you’re so fucking loud,” Porco hisses, tossing a glance in Reiner’s direction. The man is obviously still angry. Furious, actually. He takes it all out on you with the most derogatory words you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, look at your cunt. It’s keeping me inside.” Porco flicks your clit with two fingers. “Can’t believe you agreed to this, you stupid fucking baby.“

“I-I’m sorry!” you try to apologize. It comes out as more of a gargled moan. Porco has the nerve to laugh.

“Yeah? You’re sorry? I don’t think you are. You’re such a slut, y’know? Messed around with two people on different occasions, let ‘em make you cum. Whore cunt for a whore bitch.”

You maneuver your head so you can get a better hold of Reiner’s cock in your mouth and suck hard on the tip. It rips a throaty gasp from the man’s chest, and his head whips downward to stare at you like you’re a goddess.

“S… Sorry. Did that hurt?” you pant.

“N-No,” Reiner huffs. He can't help but thrust forward, so desperate for more friction. “Feels good.”

And then you’re back at it again, sucking and slurping at his cock with fervor. It’s hard to stay in place with how hard Porco is plowing into you; every thrust jostles your body, but you manage. It’s not like Reiner notices. He’s too busy gasping out barrages of moans and heavy breaths that threaten to steal him away.

“C’mere,” Porco suddenly grunts. You’re confused at first – you’re right here. How can you possibly move closer?

But then you realize that he’s not talking to you. He’s talking to Reiner.

“W-What?” Reiner shares a glance with him, his brows pinched together, mouth slightly parted. He’s so cute like this.

Porco scowls at him, voice trembling despite how he tries to sound nonchalant. Fuck. He’s the opposite of put-together right now. “C’mere and cum on her pussy.”

Reiner goes to say something else, except you tug on the fat tip of his dick with your lips, drawing him closer to the edge. He’s going to cum, he can feel it, his orgasm is almost –

Out of the blue, Porco is reaching over to rip Reiner away from your greedy mouth until his cock stands right above your flayed cunt. He just barely made it in time; Reiner lets out a broken moan when he orgasms, his cum landing right onto your pussy where Porco’s dick whips in and out. It smothers your clit in white, warm globs, dribbling down until it reaches your hole. Porco’s shaft gets coated in it.

“Fuck—“ Porco groans. His gaze flits from Reiner’s blissed out face and back down to your gaping pussy. “I told you to cum on her cunt, not me. You covered the both of us.”

“S-Sorry,” Reiner breathlessly murmurs. He’s still not all there, dick twitching as it releases a couple more sticky drops.

But honestly, deep down, Porco’s not bothered by it. If anything, it gets him even harder. Hell, it gets you wetter. Knowing that Porco’s cock and your pussy are both slathered in Reiner’s seed is a sick pleasure.

“Whatever,” Porco grunts. He takes your jaw between his forefingers and angles your head down. “You seein’ this? Look at how messy your cunt is now. Does it feel warm?”

“Mhmm,” you purr.

Porco grabs his dick at the base and tears it out of your battered hole, keeping your chin in his hand to make sure you’re watching. He rubs his cockhead all over your pussy: it smears Reiner’s cum into a thick layer over your clit. It’s so creamy that it slips down between your folds, and he urges it into your hole by slipping his wet tip in a few times.

You moan out at the feeling of your tender cunt getting teased, toes curling as your hands grip onto the bench. “Oh my god…”

Porco can feel how hot Reiner’s cum is on his slit, how fresh, and it turns him on so fucking much. Never would he have thought he’d like the sensation of another man’s seed dripping from his skin, but here he is, covered in it.

“I-I’ll buy you a pill,” Porco stutters out. He’s made of glass that’s about to buckle under too much pressure, self-control about to splinter into thousands of pieces. You’re the goddamn bull in the china shop, and his body is a worn-out teacup. That powerlessness? It’s daunting and fucking exhilarating.

Reiner finally perks up from his orgasm, gaining some semblance of control. He thinks that he’s done, but once his eyes land on the puddle of cum covering your and Porco’s nether regions, his cock is almost standing at attention again. “Shit,” he gasps. It’s like he didn’t even realize what he did. “I didn’t mean—“

Porco cuts him off, his free hand clasping around the blonde’s throat to get his attention. The tendons in his hand pop with how strong the grip is; Reiner’s focus darts up to meet him, and he withers under the man’s fiery stare.

“Shut the fuck up,” Porco seethes. “All you do is talk.”

It’s effortless — the transition of Porco’s hand swooping from your jaw to behind Reiner’s neck, pulling him forward until their lips meet in a bruising kiss. Reiner goes rigid at first, the crease between his brows deepening. But once he realizes that there’s no risk of getting his ass beat for reciprocating, he has no qualms stumbling into the man’s magnetic orbit. He’s fallen victim to the same gravity that pulled you in, too.

Porco is still fucking you like an animal as he kisses Reiner, thrusts rocking your body as Reiner’s palm comes to rest on his shoulder; it’s almost as if you’re watching a man try to tame a beast with a single touch. There’s the clicking of teeth and then a gasp on Reiner’s part when his lip is bitten, a metallic taste flooding his inner cheek. All you can do is watch as they both evolve into a clash of mouths.

You don’t understand why Porco decided to do this. Was it for you? Was it to make Reiner feel insolent? Is it his way of dominating over the situation, or is it for his own pleasure?

With how Porco’s cock twitches inside of you, the latter becomes the most likely. And while you’d love to explore this topic a bit more — figure out what the actual fuck is going on with Porco and his confusing ass sexuality — it gets difficult to focus when the man’s hips start to stutter.

“I’m gonna cum,” Porco gasps into Reiner’s parted lips. You’ve never heard the man sound this pitiful before. “Gonna cum so f-fucking hard.”

You’re completely out of it, not even listening at this point, dissociating with the yummy tingling of Porco’s cock pistoning into your tight little cunt. It’s so deep inside that it feels like you’re gonna choke on it.

“Oh, fuck!” Porco breathes, slamming into you one more time before climaxing. His hips buck uncontrollably, and he tears his face away from Reiner to throw his head forward and whine. Those twitching balls are pressed tight to your ass, busy pumping streams of cum into your cunt. You take it in so easily; it’s like you were born for this, the corruption, the indecency.

After some time, Porco finally recollects himself — or at least tries the best he can, considering he looks like a hot mess. A beautiful one, at that. The gel slicking back his tawny hair has lost its hold, strands dusting against his forehead and into those pretty eyes. He slips away to look into the stretched-out wreck he’s made of your pussy: all he can see is white, the mixture of his and Reiner’s cum dripping from your hole in little pulses.

“Gross,” Porco murmurs. He doesn’t mean it though. Not one bit.

And you think it’s over… up until him and Reiner switch places. How long Reiner has been rock-hard again, you don’t know. It’s not like you have much time to reflect on it.

“You okay with this?” Reiner asks. He doesn’t look you in the face though when he says it; his eyes are trained on your cum-infested cunt, an expression of awe marking up that reddened face. “It’s okay if you’re done.”

Porco hums in assent from somewhere behind you. While your brain says no, practically screaming it in your ears, your pussy is saying yes. You nod vigorously.

That’s all Reiner needed. And God, in that moment, he nudges his dick against your hole so perfectly. It has you arching your back and opening your mouth to cry out — but Porco is swooping down to whisper against your lips.

“Today was a hard day, huh? Left so many scary thoughts in that brain of yours. Just cum a few more times ‘n it’ll be fine. You’ll forget your own name.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer pathetically. Your voice is just as wobbly as your legs, and you don’t even try to hide it anymore. Everything just feels good, feels like it’s clicking into place seamlessly. You’d like to say something snarky, though your mind goes fuzzy when you feel Reiner’s cockhead rub circles into your clit.

“Baby girl,” Reiner hisses under his breath. There’s not even room for him to push the tip of his cock back into you without thick cum overflowing out of your hole and down your thighs. It trickles down your ass and onto the bench; he makes a mental note to clean it later. Nothing else matters right now besides making you feel good.

With one swift motion, Reiner stuffs you full, his hands planted firmly on your knees. Your pussy squeezes the life out of him: it’s still constricting from your past orgasm, hole fluttering open and closed. And the feeling? Not once could he have been prepared for this type of heaven. All the times Reiner has humped his cock into a fist — picturing it as your pussy — doesn’t even compare to how good the real thing is. He chokes out a moan that you almost replicate, until Porco is sucking on your tongue.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Porco gasps. The truthfulness that comes from it is an electric shock to your chest, a lifeline. It’s as if you’ve been awakened from cardiac arrest, rising from a code blue with a heart that’s buzzing and warm.

“I… I like you guys a lot..” you sigh. The sentence is out of your mouth before you can comprehend which vowels have formed. Body nearly freezing, you glance up at Porco with those doe-like eyes. Porco’s gonna know you haven’t chosen, that you can’t make a decision. He’s gonna be mad, leave, give you that angrily disappointed look—

But he doesn’t.

Instead, the corners of Porco’s lips draw upwards into a smile. It’s an authentic one, shameless and bold as it smooths out his brow. The light seeps into the honey-green of his eyes, and he tips his head like you’ve said something miraculous and full of charm.

“Already fucking knew that,” Porco sneers. He tries to appear unbothered, but can’t seem to wipe that happy grin off his mouth, so he hides it with another kiss upon yours.

And then you’re utterly, totally fucked by Reiner’s monster cock.

You're reduced to a toy with a twitching, drooly tongue and hot breath, your pleasure Reiner’s goal. The only thing you crave now is the feeling of cum sloshing against your cervix, on your tongue, over and over until you’re satisfied.

“I’m so close, so close!” you cry against Porco’s aggressive lips. “Keep going, oh my god — fuck me, fuck me!”

Reiner hisses, speeding up the roll of his hips, driving his cock even deeper. He loves that he’s able to do this, that you’re trusting him with such a sacred thing, and he promises to make sure you stay like this forever: feeling good and cared about and cherished.

“Yeah?” Reiner growls, rolling your swollen clit. “S-sweet girl likes — God — getting fucked?”

You’re not used to him speaking so lewdly, and you wish so desperately that you could answer. But you can’t, not anymore; your nails dig into the bench as you try to keep yourself in a seated position, drool pooling in your mouth. Those thighs of yours are certainly trembling now, ankles flexing when every muscle starts to tighten.

Both Reiner and Porco know that you’re about to cum: they can see it in the way you huff and puff, how you run your tongue along Porco’s and how your velvety cunt clenches down. It has all of you gasping for air. Reiner thrusts harder, fucking his hips up into you and sending you into a spiral of cries when the curve of his cock finds your sweet spot.

“You can do it,” Reiner groans, voice strangled. “Cum on me, please.”

You let go effortlessly, feeling your orgasm plant its roots right in the center of your pussy. It’s so good that you can’t even make a sound, just desperately shaking and grinding as Porco devours your lips. Watching you unravel like that is enough for Reiner — he instantly hunches forward and orgasms with the loudest moan of your name. His hips jerk as he cums, making him nearly collapse on top of you while filling that cunt up.

It’s silent for a moment besides the croaks of you both fighting for air. Your eyes aren’t open yet, but you feel the press of Porco’s lips against your cheek, and the smoothing of Reiner’s thumbs over your knees.

“So good for us…” Reiner grumbles. The phrase is gravelly and just above a whisper. “Did so well.”

“I guess I’d say the same,” Porco adds, snide as always.

When you open your eyes, you find that both men are staring at your face. The way they smile down at you is epiphanous: Reiner’s grin looks like he’s swallowed the sun, a candy-floss blush dawning over his cheekbones — while Porco’s smirk is out of a proud fondness. Bustling energy percolates through the golden pinpricks of their irises.

This head-to-head competition isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

You’re okay with that.

taglist (thank you all for the support let’s make-out 💖😭): @the-princess-button @tyga-lily @monirei @netflixnstill @honeylmnade @pockcock

[rosymish-deactivated20180901]

                    psa — if we’re mutuals, this gives you unsaid permission to attack my inbox whenever you want, as much as you want, with whatever you want.  want to spam me with memes?  break your ask limit.  want to send me random messages?  break your ask limit.  want to leave me love?  break your ask limit.  anything.  everything.  it doesn’t matter what time of day or night, even if i’m not around, you are always welcome.  you always have permission.  i mean it.

[syn-city]

dear, you – armin x reader 18+ [ part I ]

➝ based off of ‘@/e_m.w’s’ art on tiktok (and ig) of armin that was based off of the song ‘meant to be yours’ by jamie muscato & the west end cast for heathers the musical!

synopsis: “you were mine the moment that i saw you. don’t be scared. ya’ see, we were meant to be! this is our destiny. you belong here - with me. no no, don't be scared. i promise i'll be good, i will! c'mon, no one will ever love you like i can. i'm all you've got.”

in which, armin wants you all to himself and will do anything to make that happen. even if he has to get a little blood on his hands, all of the obstacles will be removed. you’ll belong to him. you’ll love him, just like before. yes, you’ll see.

warnings/tags: modernau!, dark content, explicit smut, angst, toxic behavior, domestic violence, emotional abuse, possessive!armin, manipulative!armin, blood mentioned quite a bit, very unhealthy relationship, little stalking/little lurking, hate sex, armin fucks you on the hood of his car, dom!armin, praising & degrading armin uses a knife and a gun here: beware, he’s got a little crying kink too, armin's got a slight breeding too, lots of swearing and a slight sprinkle of dubcon (lots of others that are definitely too long to mention here)

word count: 12.2k

a/n: as soon as i caught wind of their art with this song, i actually lost it. i immediately thought to write a little something over our favorite manipulator but i genuinely wasn’t sure if i was going to be able to do him justice (especially with all of the feedback wanting to read this). even so, i got to work and i truly hope this is something you will all like! it will have a few parts as it would be a lot to read if it was all jammed into one...so enjoy and expect the next chapter to come out soon!

➝ has been cross-posted on ao3 (coming soon)!

part one. part two. (coming soon)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So, how are you and Armin doing?” Mikasa asked, eyes moving from you to your boyfriend that was seated across from you, making sure not to miss a single expression that was going to cross his face. “Heard about the problems.” She winced, “Just want to make sure it’s all good now."

The energy in the space shifted to an uncomfortable degree, issuing an immediate silence between you and Armin. Your blood pulsed faster, sweat beginning to form at the palm of your hands. You removed them from in between your thighs and wiped them along the black dress that you were wearing. The fabric managed to feel even tighter and restricting than it had when you'd first put it on earlier. The air even stiffened under the sudden cloud of tension above the table, almost giving you the sense of being unable to breathe.

What did he say? What did he tell me to say to a question like this? Fuck, I can't remember, you thought to yourself, eyes darting between Mikasa, your best friend, to the rest of the group. It was a struggle to not look at Armin, but you fought the urge because he was surely pissed after knowing that you had went and ran your mouth to the one person he'd told you not to go to. He's going to kill me. I need to say that everything's fine. Yes. Everything's okay and I was exaggerating.

You couldn't help but recall what had happened back at the apartment, just before you two had left to meet your friends at the restaurant.

“I don’t want to go,” you told him, hip cocked to the side and eyebrows creased inward.

Armin gave you a raised eyebrow, wondering what had suddenly gotten into you. “And why not?”

You rolled your eyes, making your first mistake, “because.”

He sent you a blank look as he crossed the short distance towards you, “Doesn’t sound like a very good reason. You’re going. It’s not open for discussion.”

Your frown deepened, trying to not pout. You wanted to stand your ground because it’s wasn’t fair that he was trying to drag you somewhere you didn't feel like even going. It was a night out at a nice restaurant with your friends but you feel like going. You'd suggested to reschedule but Armin wasn't having it.

Though, he couldn't force you to go. You had free will.

Who did he think he was?

With that shot of confidence within you, a smirk spread across your lips. “Yeah, well. Not going. Now the discussion is closed. Like you said, not open right?”

Armin could feel a vein throb at his temple. He’s had to deal with your resistance for the past 15 minutes, and was slowly losing his patience with you. He was trying to be understanding and very patient with you, but he was losing his resolve.

You could see it across his face, and felt a swell of satisfaction fill up in your chest.

He never made you do anything.

Always had let it be up to you.

It didn't look like it was going to be one of those times.

"Listen, you’re really pissing me off. It would be nice if you went along with this but seeing that you’d prefer to fight back,” Armin backed you against the wall, your arms stiff by your side as you watched him take your jaw in one of his soft, warm hands. The very same hands he’d had all over you in the shower earlier. “Might need to fuck a little respect back into you. Would you say that you need more training?”

Years of taking care of himself and living stress free did wonders for his skin. no scarring, no blemishes and not a wrinkle in sight. He looked like a porcelain doll. His short, blond hair was way more gorgeous and softer with a better look; your fingers itching to touch the pretty locks but it was the way he eyed you down that held you still.

"I asked you a question, sweetheart. Gonna answer it?”

You swallowed, and tilted your chin up at him in clear defiance and said, “Do what you want. I’m not going. I’ve made that pretty clear.”

His other hand drifted down your side, and made it to the edge of your dress, smirking. “Have you now?” his fingers teased as they lifted up the thin fabric, dark eyes watching the way your chest moved a bit faster with each breath you took in. “I highly doubt you can’t be swayed.” He moved to the flimsy article you called ‘underwear’ and pushed it to the side, slipping a single digit between your wet folds to circle at your clit.

“Ah! Armin,” you breathed out, holding onto his arm to keep yourself upright. “What are yo-“

"Teaching you a lesson. Now shut up and let me touch you. Might get you out of going.” He kissed along your pretty neck, nipping at your skin here and there. “Sound good?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, glad that you fought back.

Worked like a charm, you thought to yourself, getting picked up and taken to the bedroom.

You stood in the bathroom, leaned up against the sink when you heard your phone ping from the bedroom. Setting the mascara down, you peeked your head out into the hallway and listened in trying to locate where Armin was in the apartment. The sound of a cup clinking to the counter in the kitchen gave you the confirmation that you were looking for so you decided that you were going to check your phone right after you were done.

There was a chat with Eren open in your cell and if Armin saw that – there was no denying that he was going to take it wrong, as per usual.

It never took much to stir up his jealousy issues when it came to you.

"Almost done," you mumbled to yourself, finishing up.

"Why are you texting Eren?"

"Ah!" You dropped your mascara into the sink, getting the tip completely wet from previously using the faucet to brush your teeth. "Shit, Armin," you glanced at him with an irritated look before picking the small brush up and shoving it back into its' cylinder container. "Scared the hell out of me. What do you wan-"

"Why. Are. You. Texting him," he asked you again, jaw clenching and ticking with every passing second that he went without a logical answer to the 'issue'. "The hell are you two even talking about when we're gonna see him in 15 minutes?" Cerulean eyes searched your face just in case you tried lying to him because you were never really a very good liar.

You sighed, and pushed your hip into the sink to lean against it, "He was asking me for advice." You shrugged, looking away. "He told me not to tell anyone so I'm keeping my word but it was a friendly conversation. Maybe you can ask him about it when we see him soon, but I can't say.” With that, you faced the mirror again and checked your makeup.

Armin observed the way that you were dressed and frowned at how short your dress was. Why was it so short? Why didn't you wear it before tonight? And he didn't buy you that so did you go shopping without him knowing or something? Was it a gift? Was it from Sasha? Mikasa? Or maybe even Jean?

No.

His eyes narrowed.

Short dresses were a sign for something else. The message would’ve been completely different if it were from any of your platonic friends but when it came to Eren...

He didn’t trust him as far as he could’ve thrown him.

You were putting on lipstick as you spoke up, "Hey, so are you ready to go-"

"Take off the dress. Now."

Your head turned to look at him with a scowl, "Excuse me? No. Why? We would be late if I changed now."

"Don't care. Take it off and find something else because you're not wearing this around him," Armin retorted, getting angrier the more he stared at the fabric wrapped around your body. "Sure he's the one that gave this to you so I want you to take it off and I'll trash it later. Then I can start to forgive you for provoking me in the first place."

"Are you insane?" You put a pause on finishing your makeup and faced him again. "I'm not changing, Armin. We're leaving soon so just wait for me in the living room, okay?"

He was about to open his mouth to speak again when he got the door slammed in his face. There was a brief pause as took the silence to count to twenty so he didn't blow up and ruin the night for you two. It was obvious that you were trying to get under his skin but he wasn't going to let you. He had to stay calm and composed because otherwise...

Armin placed a hand against the wood of the door, clenching and releasing a fist a few times. "Open the door."

It wasn’t locked so he could’ve easily walked right back in but he was trying to give you a chance to clean up your own mess. He also didn’t want to walk into the restaurant with any bad tension between you two so he didn’t make a move to open it.

"No," he heard you say from the other side and he could feel his patience with you thinning the more he stood there.

He hated doors in general. Wanted to always know what you were doing and who you were talking to. If he wasn't about him or to him, it was a problem. If it was with Eren... You were seeing a side to Armin you didn't like to see.

So why did you always make him have to get so mean?

He hated yelling at you or getting too upset with you. Making you cry. He hated it all, but you did it. You brought that side out of him and never took his feelings into account.

Did you even care about him like he cared about you?

Loved him as much as he loved you?

He took a deep breath. Not only did he hate doors but especially ones that got slammed in his face.

That really pissed him off.

"You have 3 seconds to open this door or I'm tearing it down. Do you understand?"

He didn’t receive any sort of answer back and he sighed.

You were so difficult sometimes.

“Three.”

Silence.

He frowned.

“Two.”

He heard shuffling from behind the door and took a step back, thinking it was the sound of you getting ready to open the door. He smirked to himself. The counting thing worked sometimes, it seemed.

Except it didn’t this time.

Click.

The door locked instead and there wasn’t a proper word to describe what he was feeling. If you wanted to go to the restaurant in a sour mood, then fine by him.

He’d tried to warn you.

“Fuck it.”

He hoped you were far enough from the door because as soon as he raised a leg and kicked at the doorknob, the wood didn’t waste any time splitting at impact. He heard you shriek from the inside and couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face as he gave it a final push with his shoulder, busting the door completely off of its’ hinges.

You were pushed up against the sink, mouth open in shock but didn’t have time to do much else when you felt him grab at your elbow and shove you against the opposite wall, cheek hitting the cool surface of it.

“You know,” he muttered low into your ear, the front of his body pressed against your backside, holding both of your wrists at the lower end of your back with one hand while the other gripped a fistful of your hair. “You call me the worst sometimes but it’s all because of you. Maybe if you stopped always trying to piss me off, I wouldn’t have to be so scary. Am I scary enough for you now? Huh?”

You whimpered against the wall, feeling tears prickle at the corners hearing his voice get louder.

“Say something or I swear to god-“

“Sorry.”

He rose a brow and leaned in closer, “Kinda low. What was that?”

You sniffled, feeling pressure in your shoulder from the position he had you in, “I said…I’m sorry. Happy?”

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if that was enough to appease him. He was dramatic. Lived for the flare of things. He took great pride in the way he made you beg for his forgiveness during intense arguments. He always got his way but you never let him get it easily. You fought him every single time, and it wasn’t like he didn’t like that.

You were difficult to get under control and he liked the unpredictability of you.

Made it more fun and enjoyable when he got to see you crack.

Armin skimmed his nose along your neck, sending tingles down your spine. It was not the time but the throbbing in between your legs was telling you something differently. Was this his final hand? Making you squirm and beg to be fucked? Was it much different from grovelling at his feet for forgiveness?

“Happy? No. Not yet. I wanna see your mouth full of my cock and maybe then I’ll be satisfied.”

You blinked back into reality, remembering where you were.

Oh. That's right.

You were in in a hole for the mistake of blabbering to Mikasa about what had happened the other night.

The thought of lying to Mikasa made you feel sick to your stomach. The last thing you wanted to do was have her worry about you but you worried about your own wellbeing. It was a moment of weakness, that other night at the bar. Your mouth ran like water coming out a faucet and you couldn't stop it. Was it so bad for her to know? It wasn't, but with Armin now in the know that you were beginning to tell her what was happening back at the apartment - he was definitely going to punish you for it later. You needed to clean this up and fast.

You released a surprisingly steady breath before focusing your gaze on her. Even pulled up a convincing smile to shut her worries down.

"Sorry for worrying you like that," you giggled. "I was so drunk that night. I was talking about this story I've been working on and must've said Armin instead of the male character I'm writing about. We're fine!" Your eyes finally cut towards him, breathing picking up, worried that what you told Mikasa wasn't convincing enough and needed his approval through his eyes. "Aren't we, baby?"

It didn't come across as though he was upset but you knew him better than the others. Intimately, even. His calm demeanor in stressful situations could never fool you. There was more behind those innocent and deceiving eyes of his. Pools of blue that swirled with persuasion and free of guilt that masked how utterly infuriated and deranged he actually was on the inside.

He wasn't the same person that you started dating three years ago.

Not even close.

It was raining that day.

Sheets of water came pouring down out of the sky, people jogging to shops or to their vehicles to seek shelter. The rain had come out of nowhere and no one was prepared in the slightest.

You definitely weren’t one of the lucky ones.

With just a silk blouse with slacks and heels on, the water didn't waste any time quickly soaking into your clothes. You quickly ran into the nearest shop you could get into and was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked bread and oven ready cookies in the air.

The bakery shop wasn't all that big but it was spacious enough to fit a couple of people in it to shelter from the onslaught of rain that flooded the streets outside.

You quickly sought out refuge by the far part of the room, watching as the people that had the same idea to use the bakery as coverage from the shower outside decide to line up and buy something as the sweet enticing aroma of baked goods seduced their hungry bellies. You clutched your bag, eyes catching what was in the display glasses, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder. Since you were stuck in the shop for who knew how long, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get a danish or two with some coffee.

When you walked up and joined the line, your eyes quickly moved to the menu that was shown from a massive screen just above the register so it wasn’t difficult to see from where you were. The bakery had much to offer. There was nothing that sounded unappealing to you so it made your final decision a lot harder than you were expecting.

“Sweetie, just one okay?” The mother in front of you told her son, eyebrows furrowed in mild stress at the small show he was putting on about what he really wanted. “I promise if you like it, I will buy another one for you. Just try one and we’ll see, okay?”

The son’s face was blotched in red and messy tears, cheeks extra dark from him rubbing them with force to rid his face of the waterworks. “No, I’ll like it, I promise! Please, Mom!”

She sighed, rubbing at her forehead, feeling the energy to combat him on the decision drain from her body; the argument not worth it anymore. Not since she didn’t want to continue to disturb everyone anymore than she had.

She nodded, “Sure, sure.”

His face quickly cleared up and a bright smile took over, a hand instantly coming up to take hers again. “Thanks, Mom!”

“Mhm.”

The line moved quite fast. There was only one man in front of the son and mother in front of you so you had to come to some sort of decision before it was time for you to order.

Everything looked delicious but you had to stick with the danishes. You were sure it wasn’t going to be like the ones from starbucks, but you were up for trying them anyway. Maybe to even give them bigger props than expected.

Within the blink of an eye, it was your turn.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

“Hi, uh yeah, could you just get me two cheese danishes and a small cup of your iced caramel macchia-“ You’d been looking down at your purse, in search of your wallet. When you found it and looked back up, you’d caught an eyeful of one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen.

Hair so beautifully blond and golden underneath the recessed lighting, obviously shaved at the sides and possibly the back in an undercut. His brows were dark and thin but naturally arched, moving into deep oceans of blue that were his eyes, mesmerizing at first sight. Haunting and bright at the same time. His nose slimmed down to a point, almost button-like but it was sharp enough to give his face that right amount of edge. Jawline as razor-sharp as diamonds and lips as plush and soft as pillows. Tinted with a mix of red and pink, but only slightly. Just enough for you to struggle pulling your eyes away from them and back to his captivating blues, remembering why you were even standing there.

You blinked, “Sorry, um,” He smiled a bit, having noticed the way you were looking at him, but ignored it for now. “So yeah, just the danishes and the iced caramel macchiato with it half and half, 2 shots of espresso, hazel nut syrup and extra caramel drizzle.”

“Mmm,” the guy input the order into the machine in front of him, your eyes stuck on how pretty his hands were. Slender and unblemished, fingers much longer than your own. Come to think of it, he wasn’t a short guy. Had on a white buttoned up shirt, black slacks and a black apron tied and fitted around his lean form. He was definitely one of the cutest guys you’d come in contact with in a long while. “That sounds really good,” he commented, lashes down as he finished up the order. “Might make me one later.”

His voice… Smooth like honey and warm as a summer’s day. Fresh and inviting. You couldn’t look away.

He looked back up and you almost felt a little bad about not giving him an immediate response if it weren’t for his kind smile that seemed to have told you that it was okay.

“All set! It’ll be $10.25.” You handed him one of your bank cards and he swiped it, handing it back to you. The machine spat out your receipt that thankfully had an order number on it. “It’ll be ready within 5, if that’s okay?”

Instead of instantly making eye contact, you noticed the name tag on his apron and smiled a little, looking back. “That's fine. Thank you.”

You took a step to the side and the next person walked up to the counter. It was on instinct that as you walked further away, you took a glance at him from over your shoulder and noticed that he’d already been looking at you. Pretty blue pools flickered back to the customer, unstirred by the amount of eye contact you two had shared.

How long had it been since you’d dated someone? A year? Maybe two? You’d been single for a while but it was your choice. After a particularly bad break up, you didn’t want to jump into another straightaway. No plans of going down a similar route that had equal chance of ending the same way the last one did.

Even so…

It seemed the cute baker with the pretty blond hair was the exception.

The first date was nice. The second date felt familiar and by the third and fourth date, things just fell into place.

The last date was at the bakery shop, where you two first met.

You were sat atop the counter, Armin in between your legs, hunched over with his arms circled around your waist to hold you steady. After making a big fuss on how sanitary it was for you to sit on the counter, he was quick to settle your disgruntlement down by cooing out little “it’s okays’” making sure you knew that it wasn’t a big deal. He’d only closed about an hour ago and it needed to be wiped down anyway. Even so, you weren't the kind of person to ever make it easy for him.

"So I've been thinking," you started talking, playing with his hair by running your hands through it.

"Uh oh, that's never a good sign," he teased, closing his eyes and focusing on your touch.

You frowned before laughing, "Hear me out. I really like you Armin and I think...I think I want..." Why was it so hard to tell him how you felt? Was it the sweat that began prickling through your skin or was it the rapid beat of your heart, worried that it was so loud he'd hear it? Usually, it was hard conveying your feelings with words if he stared at you but his eyes were closed this time so maybe it would be easier. "I think I want more...More of..."

Armin took one of your wrists and opened his eyes as he brought it up to his lips, kissing your warm skin gently. "Mmm, is that right? More of what?"

You were almost hypnotized by watching him trace his lips over and across your wrist and hand, moving slowly towards your fingers. Dark eyes trained on you, waiting to hear more.

"I don't..." Trying to think about your next set of words and not about how good his touch felt. It was like fighting a losing battle.

"Use your words and tell me. I want to hear it."

Your chest rose and fell expeditiously, trying to hold onto your resolve as it began slipping right through your fingers. How did he expect you to answer if what you wanted to tell him was getting further and further away from you with every touch he made?

"Armin-" you muttered weakly.

He instantly let go of your wrist and straightened his back. You felt him place his hands on your hips and used the pockets of your jeans to tug you towards him, legs spread even wider around him. You gasped realizing just how close his face was to yours, lips just inches of away from devouring your sanity. Eyelids lowered and sea blues focused on the way your tongue pushed through your plush lips, licking away the sudden dryness along your bottom lip. The grip at your hips tightened.

"Fuck," he growled out, "I wanna fuck you right on this counter." He let out a breathless laugh, cheeks a shade of red from the heat of tension fired between you and him. "I know that's skipping several steps to this but I can't help it. You're doing something to me that I've never felt before. I want you so fucking bad. So bad and it's all because of who you are. The way you speak like you're not sure if you wanna jump off of the cliff or not. That you're being begged by the sea below to dive but you're too stubborn. Can't make a final decision to save your life."

Armin was unlike any other guy you’d ever met. None of them had been a sweet little baker, so caring and worried over if you ate breakfast, lunch and dinner. Always reminding you to drink water throughout the day, get a good amount of rest at night rather than stay up and write as you usually would. He even took you out to spots that would help with your inspiration. Gave you gifts for the holidays and your birthday that were store bought but also made by him. He showed you he cared in various ways — it wasn’t hard to fall in love with him. Nothing felt better than when he was near you and it made you believe that this was it. He was what you’d been searching for.

All of those nights spent crying over different men that told you they loved you — all of it was to get you through to Armin. The wait was well worth it. It was just on you whether you wanted to take the next step with him. He wasn’t your boyfriend…but maybe he needed to be.

Trust was something hard to come by. You don’t meet someone and fully trust them after a couple of months. Not even a year. A broken heart knows when it’s in danger and it protects itself. Knows when to shut someone out and board the walls up with bricks and stone, toughening the inside from the outside hurt.

That was what you had to do back then. You had to protect yourself. You refused to go through that kind of pain again.

However…did Armin seem like one of those mistakes? He treated you so nicely, loved you so warmly — did he not deserve the same chance as the rest?

“Please,” he whispered, lips now against your neck, arms wrapped tightly around you. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I need to know what you're thinking right now.”

“I-” your hands slid up to his shoulders, holding him there. “I want you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.” He didn’t move from where he was. It was like he knew there was more you wanted to say. “I’m so tired of fighting my real feelings for you. We flirt, we go on dates, we take care of each other. We do all of the things couples do but I’ve been too afraid to label it. Some say it’s okay to love someone labeless but for me,” your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, sniffling. “I need that. I want that. I want-”

“Be my girlfriend.”

Armin quickly pulled back and took your face in his hands, eyes blown wide and completely vulnerable. It was like looking right into his heart. His very soul, rather. He’d fallen for you and hard. That much was obvious. Armin…did he love you too? “Say you’ll be mine. God, please say it. Right now. I need to hear you say it, baby. Two words. Give me just two words, won’t you?” His voice was rushed and anxious. Tone dipped in places that convinced you that he wanted this just as much as you did. Maybe more.

You blinked and searched those pretty blues for any last slip ups before granting him exactly what he wanted to hear. What you wanted him to hear.

“I’m yours."

Armin was a dream when you met him but overtime...you began to see sides of him that you never thought could exist.

It was why you felt compelled to clean up the mess that you'd made from that night at the bar with Mikasa.

He pulled up a similar smile to yours before nodding, eyes on her. "More than fine. Almost wanted to rip that dress right off of her before coming here but you know," he glanced at you, a glint of something unknown flashing in his eyes before he was back to giving Mikasa his undivided attention. "I so do hate being late to these kinds of things. Now," he picked up his menu again, trying to find something the least bit of appetizing and to steer the conversation elsewhere. "-let's order, shall we?"

The tension that loomed over your heads floated away as a new conversation about Eren and Mikasa's engagement took over; one that had happened a few days ago. You were happy for them but you'd been too busy letting Armin make out with your needy cunt in the dressing room of some poor boutique that day to give your best friend the proper celebratory congrats.

"What a pretty little pussy you've got here, baby," Armin mumbled against your folds, tongue rolling over the sensitive bud that he knew could get you to make some of the most sinful sounds he'd ever heard. "I could stay in between your legs for hours."

You were leaned up against the wall of the dressing room, one leg on his shoulder while the other quivered with each kiss, suckle and lick he made against your clit. "Fuck, Armin," you breathed shakily, fighting to stay upright. "What if we get caught? Someone's going to catch us. I just know i- Ah!"

You looked down was met with an amused grin, mischievous blue eyes swirling with gall, "Stop whining or someone will come in here. Do you wanna be heard? Bet you do," he had your clit between his teeth, but it didn't hurt. Truthfully, the opposite. Sliding the sensitive ball of nerves back and forth, tongue lapping across it. "Such a slut, you are. Go on. Let'em hear so they can see what a mess you are right now. Mmm," he leaned back a bit and stared at your cunt like a plate of his favorite food was staring right back at him. Hungry for more. "My little mess."

Your face flushed with heat as you tried to look away from him but he was so enthralling. It was the way he was looking at you. Such a private part of you, it should've been embarrassing and maybe you did feel a bit exposed but you liked that. Liked how he treated your pussy like he was as in love with it as he was with you. Sometimes soft touches, easing your folds open like a pretty flower and gently running his tongue over that little bundle of nerves before fitting a few fingers into your miserable cunt, falling to pieces hearing you wail in ecstasy.

Armin was so attentive to you, it was almost unfair. How did you manage to get a man as perfect as him?

But that was a memory that you didn't really want to dig up again.

Though, moments like that were one of the only times that you felt like he was the same Armin from when you two first started dating. Sometimes it was nice to look back on those times, but not right now.

Not when you were being silently judged by the very same guy you were in a relationship with.

Armin sat across from you and was still looking over his menu but you could feel his eyes on you whenever you looked down at yours to find something you wanted. It was like he was planning something when he looked at you and you didn't want to know. Not before it happened. That always made it worse.

As confusing as it may seem, he wasn't holding you hostage. He'd told you that if you wanted out of the relationship, you were free to go. He wasn't keeping you there and through all of the hurt and pain he caused you – the Armin you once knew was still in there somewhere. You knew it because you'd seen him.

Moments where the group and you two had beach days together, watching him laugh and chase his friends around in the sand under the hot sun. Times where he picked you up and plopped you into the water before tenderly wiping the water out of your eyes and helping with the water in your ears. Laying with you on the towel, pointing out clouds that looked like animals or different shapes. Talking about nothing.

The Armin that you used to know only came out when he was either around his friends with you or those random moments that he let his guard back down.

You just needed to figure out when he had even pulled his guard up around you. Left you wondering what you'd done or what had happened within the time frame of the beginning of the relationship to now. You were so confused and didn't know where to begin to get him back for good.

The Armin that you had fallen in love with.

The waiter hadn't come back around after setting the drinks down so you still had time to look over the menu and figure out what you wanted to eat. Mikasa was chatting with Sasha and Jean while Eren was explaining something to Connie that peaked your interest.

"Eren, are you talking about that new ski resort that's almost finished near the northern mountains?" You asked him and his eyes lit up.

"Yeah!" His body turned towards you, ignoring the hard side eye Armin had given him from starting up a conversation with you in front of him. "It's supposed to be kinda sick actually. Bigger than the last one that was here. Why?" He smirked, giving you a teasing look. "Thinkin' about goin'? Hmm," he put a hand to his chin, thinking as he looked over the top half of your body since you were sitting down. "I didn't take you as the type to ski."

"I do! I used to ski a lot before I came up this way," you put down your menu and didn't realize that Armin was staring at you openly this time. "It was something me and my dad did as a little outing for the both of us." You smiled, "I loved it and would literally wipe the mountain with you."

Eren barked out a laugh, "Oh yeah? Game on. I don't usually take on challenges from beginners like you, but maybe you'll surprise me with what your daddy taught you, huh?"

You giggled before tossing a balled up napkin his way that he failed to dodge in time. "You're so annoying. Watch, I'll surprise you."

Mikasa wasn't ever bothered whenever a woman would hit on Eren. She was confident in their relationship but Armin's jealousy and possessiveness didn't stem from any deep rooted insecurities he had. You weren't sure where it came from but you knew that he loathed whenever someone would invite you into a one on one conversation without him in it. Especially when it was with Eren.

It seemed extreme and maybe it was, but it never got to you. Not until he brought it up with a fist full of your hair in one of his hands, driving his cock along the walls of your sopping wet cunt, calling you a whore for liking the attention of someone else that wasn't him.

Sometimes...it got bad but at times, he seemed a bit more composed than usual.

This didn't look to be one of those times.

"Hey Eren," Armin spoke up, earning a small sigh from you as you sunk back into your seat, wanting to just fall through the booth all together. Possibly off of the face of the earth. You had a strange feeling that Armin was about to make a scene about you talking with Eren right in front of him and wished you didnt have to be there to witness an unnecessary fight about it.

The brunette set aside his menu and looked at his friend with a raised brow.

"How's Christie doing?"

Eren face dropped by an inch but you caught onto it. It was even seen through his body language. He sat up straighter and had glanced at Mikasa to find that she had stopped her conversation with Sasha and Jean, eyes narrowed at him. You looked back at Armin and watched him smirk, barely noticeable if no one paid him any mind but you did. You saw it and knew what his game was.

"Christie?" Mikasa asked, leaning towards the two of them, pressed against the edge of the table. "What? That bitch from high school that literally dated you for three days just to show that she got to you before me?" It was clear Mikasa was growing angrier by the second so you and Sasha tried to tell her to not get upset but she was past that the moment she had heard the name. "You met with her didn't you?" Eren looked away from her, like he had something to hide.

Did he?

"The fuck?" She blinked, mouth still opened. "Eren-"

"Yeah, I did," he interrupted, looking down at his hands that were in his lap. "I didn't meet with her. She uh... She came in the bakery on my shift for a dozen donuts and some coffee to take back with her and we...started to catch up a little." He looked up at his girlfriend and sighed. "S'not like I asked her out on a date or anything. What's the problem?"

She let out a weightless laugh, taken aback by how aloof he was acting. "Are you kidding me? What's the problem? God, you know just how to get under my fucking skin every fucking time. You know that I have never liked her! She followed your ass to the same university that she'd heard about us wanting to go to and tried to steal you away from me several times throughout those four years or did you forget about that?"

He shrugged, "You shouldn't really hang onto something like that. That was so long ago. I've forgiven her."

"Yeah? Well I haven't!"

Mikasa shook her head in disbelief as Eren sat there, staring at her back like he had nothing else to add. Almost like he didn't really care that she was upset. It should've pissed her off but she was more hurt than anything else and couldn't bear the sight of him any longer.

She gave it another moment before she nodded her head, sniffling, "Yeah, alright. Cool," and looked at Sasha and Jean, "let me out," and hopped out of the booth, needing some air. "I can't do this right now."

"Mika..." Sasha said with a sad look, wanting to reach out for her but Mikasa was quick to snatch her handbag from beside Eren and walk out towards the back.

Connie connected eyes with Sasha and shrugged before looking at Eren. He was just sitting there, looking to have chosen to not run after his own girlfriend which made him look guiltier than it should've. Especially for someone that was supposed to have nothing to hide if all he talked about was how happy he was with Mikasa.

The entire situation pissed Jean off from the start and he slapped his hands on the table to get Eren's attention. "Dude," Eren looked at him with a frown. "Get the hell up and go after her, man. What the hell are you doing? She's hurt. You, sitting there, makes you look like an asshole. I mean, just say you don't care about her and get it over with."

"Fuck do you know about our relationship, Jean?" Eren argued, "Just because you hang around her and follow after her like some puppy begging for her attention when you know she's with me, that doesn't give you room to tell me what I should do in my own fuckin' relationship!"

Connie sighed and got up so Eren could get out of the booth. He shot Jean an angry hot look from over his shoulder, "Stay away from her from now on. I don't wanna see you near her again. If so, I'm beating the shit out of you and I'm not playing," and stormed off to find Mikasa.

It was quiet for a moment as neither of the three could even look at each other. You didn't know what to say and maybe there was nothing you could say. It wasn't your place, and it hurt you that you couldn't change the outcome of the situation because you never liked the group to separate. You were all close friends. It didn't seem that way now, and you weren't sure if things were ever going to come back to some sort of normalcy with Eren so upset with Jean for being around his fiancé all of the time.

You sat there and watched as Jean got out as well, pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket.

He stuffed it between the corner of his lips, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Sorry guys. Gonna...go outside and get some air or somethin'."

When he walked off, Connie rubbed at his head in conflict, not knowing who to even follow after. He had a thought that getting in between another argument he was sure those two were going to get into wasn't going to be a good idea so he chose to go after Jean. He hoped to cheer the guy up but there wasn't going to be much he was going to be able to do for him. Naturally, Sasha followed but not before mouthing a quick, 'sorry' to you and Armin, and dashing after her boyfriend and best friend.

Though the tension had left with the group, it felt like the lingering effects from it was now there in its' absence.

Armin still wore his conniving smirk that he'd held throughout the entire ordeal and for once, it pissed you off enough to finally speak up about the way he dealt with the situation. How he was able to instigate the entire argument and not even feel bad for it. All because he'd gotten jealous with the way you and Eren engaged in a short conversation about skiing.

"That was uncalled for, Armin. Why did you do that?"

He laid back against the cushion, messing with the straw in his drink, looking up at you through dark lashes, "What? So I mentioned the girl I saw come in the other day." He shrugged, "Big deal. How was I supposed to know that was going to happen? I didn't know her. Never seen her a day in my life but they did look rather cozy so," he raised his hands in defense, "I figured it was something Mikasa needed to know about. Especially since they're together and when you're in a relationship-" he leaned forward again, a hand of his moving across your knee underneath the table, "-you're supposed to love your partner and only your partner. Not look at anyone else. Right or wrong?"

You quickly swatted his hand away from you and began scooting out of the booth, "Fuckin' sick, I swear. I can't do this with you." He eyed the way you pulled the strap of your purse up your shoulder, looking at him like he was carrying some detrimental disease. "Are you happy? I hope so because you got just what you wanted."

Armin hummed, "Not yet," before getting out of the booth as well. He stood to his feet and released a long breath, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out his wallet, slapped a few hundred dollar bills on the surface of the table and gave you a once over.

"You're a noisy little thing, aren't you?" His deep blue eyes moved over the two slits in your dress that allowed him an eyeful of not only your breasts but your thigh. He grinned to himself. "You drive me crazy, y'know that?"'

You frowned, "Armin, I could give two flying fucks about what weird shit turns you on right no- Let go of me! What are you doing?"

He had a hand wrapped around one of your wrists, pulling you with him as he sped walked in front of you. It was so abrupt, you'd almost tripped over your own feet. You forgot to wear shorter heels because with Armin...you never knew what you were going to get yourself into with him.

He always made quick decisions and never really filled you in on them. He was rash and impulsive. You figured that if he let you in on the things he decided on doing, that was a way into his head which he wasn't going to ever allow you to do again.

Just more questions instead of answers.

Perhaps you were getting used to that.

The walk down the hall wasn't long when you were suddenly face to face with the women's restroom. Why had he brought you here?

He moved you in front of him with his hands on your arms, steading you. He pressed his lips against the shell of your ear, feeling you jump at his touch. "Go in."

Confused but not willing to argue and get him anymore upset than he was, you pushed the door open and walked in with him following closely behind.

The door quickly locked behind you and it was as if you could hear your own heart drop to your stomach. You closed your eyes, clutching your bag against your thighs.

Fuck, you thought to yourself. I shouldn’t have said those things. I can’t even apologize. He’s not going to listen to me. What do I do?

Your mind was completely blank. Heart was beating so fast, you could easily hear it through your own ears. Body trembling, unable to guess his next course of action. Armin made sure to always stay unpredictable. After all of those years, you could never spot a pattern in him. He was calculative, intelligent and made you feel dumb because he needed you to know that he was better than you. That you two weren’t equals. Never could be. You were beneath him and that was how it needed to be.

Don’t mistake. Armin...was a feminist. Loved to remind you that as a woman — he worshipped you like a god to his world. Wanted to take care of your need and be there for you above everyone else. That much was true. He did take care of you but not like someone in love did. Armin was different.

He took a different approach to affection.

“Knees.”

His voice was low, commanding, almost body rocking with fear. His demeanor should’ve scared you but he knew you by now. Knew your strengths, your weaknesses.

Him being in control was one of them.

He also knew that you liked those rare moments after fucking you where he cuddled you, just held you close and begged you not to leave him. Tears soaked into your skin, kisses along your neck and sweet promises in your ear that he was going to do better. That he never wanted to hurt you. Would tell you that he needed to do better because he knew that you didn’t deserve any of the hurt and pain he caused you.

Lies, over and over and somehow — they always worked.

He knew that too and exploited that for his own selfish gain.

Armin walked until he was standing in front of you. He wasn’t as tall or as broad as Eren, but his aura — that was all he needed to make you feel ten times smaller than him. Physically and mentally.

His pretty blues narrowed. “What? Hard of hearing? Let me help you then.”

Without warning, he took you by your neck and forced you down until your knees met the cold tile floor, whimpering up at him. Tears were already brimming your waterline, threatening to fall at any moment. That only made him sigh, shaking his head.

“Crying, are you?” He bent down to your level, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, eyes darting all over your face. “I haven’t even done anything yet and you must think I’m the meanest guy in the world. Shit,” he chuckled to himself, resting his elbow on a knee. “You really are pathetic.”

He stood back up and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at you in disgust. “Maybe if you go and chase Eren, he’ll choose you over Mikasa right now. Might even stuff his dick in your mouth as a reward. I mean," he shrugged, "The conversation between you two seemed so electrifying, you might as well had tossed your dress up and rode his cock in front of everyone." He smirked, "Bet you would've like that, huh slut?”

Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to fight back the tears but Armin could just be so mean sometimes. It was fucked up, the way he treated you. The way he talked to you. You deserved so much better but couldn’t get away from him. He wasn’t forcing you so why the hell did you always stay?

His jaw pulsed with a tick, clearly getting annoyed by your lack of response.

“Wouldn’t you?” You blinked up at him, sniffling as you held onto your bag, desperately wanting him to just forgive you and punish you later. “Answer me!”

“N-no!” You let go of your bag and moved forward to grasp at his pant leg, looking up at him through tears. “I love you, Armin! Please don’t act like this right now. I'm sorry for what I said! I'm not interested in Eren and I never will be! For fuck's sake, he's my friend. Our friend!"

Armin looked at you for a moment, "So you aren't interested in him."

You tried your luck and stood up on your feet, taking his face in your hands. "Armin, no. I'm not. Breathe, okay? You know that I accept every single one of your flaws but you can't treat me like trash every moment you feel like I'm doing something that gives you the impression that I'm not happy with you or that I want someone else. It's not right."

It looked like he was really taking in what you were telling him but for some reason... a part of you felt like it was a little pointless. As well as he knew you, you knew him and nothing with him was ever that simple.

"Baby," he whispered as a hand of his traveled down your back until it rested at the round of your ass. "I hear you and you're right. However," he gave your bottom a quick smack, mentally eating up the moan that slipped out of your mouth, "I need to punish you. I have to." He pecked your lips, smiling. "Do you understand? I won't hurt you," he walked you until you felt the counter hit your lower back. "I just need to remind you who you belong to in case your dick-riding fantasy with Eren is still somehow in your head when the only dick you should be thinking about is mine."

His lips crashed against yours, tasting your cherry chapstick and groaned, pushing his fingers into your hips to lock you in place. His lips were warm and soft getting lost in the way he lead your lips here and there. You couldn't help but fall under his spell yet again.

His tongue traced over your teeth, eyes half lidded with desire as he pressed his body into yours, feeling the want from you that came from the way you whimpered and tried to touch him back. He grinned against your lips and moved to hook his arms under both of your legs, picking you up to settle you on top of the counter so that he could touch you better.

"Happy?" he said as he kissed at your neck, hands pushing up your dress bit by bit.

"Yes.."

If you couldn't fight him off then what was the point in continuing to try? You were wasting your energy and time trying to complete the impossible. Armin was playing a good game and maybe you were always meant to lose.

"Mine," he said before biting into your neck, feeling your back curve against him, "all fucking mine."

"All yours."

.x. .x. .x.

The walk back to the car was strange.

Armin had held you to the counter, face in between your legs as you tried to hold back your moans, creaming on his warm tongue within minutes. Afterwards, he stood up and when you made a move to return the favor, he stilled your hips and told you, "not now." Your face fell into a sullen look as you let him clean you up and take your hand, leading you out of the restaurant completely.

Something wasn't right.

Armin was never one to shy away from getting you to suck him off. In fact, it'd become muscle memory to get on your knees and give him your best performance each time. Plus, wasn't he supposed to punish you for talking to Mikasa about what was going on in the apartment? You weren't sure if she had bought what you and Armin had told her, but how was he able to overlook that slip up so easily?

Was he beginning to not care? Was he...

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, too afraid to go down that route.

No.

Armin was in love with you. Obsessed with you, even.

You weren't getting boring, that was for sure. He'd told you, jokingly, that he'd kill for you so maybe you were overreacting.

Had to be.

Armin loved you and was just tired.

That was all.

He was walking in front of you, hands in his pockets, leading you to the car. He'd been silent the moment both of you left the bathroom and you couldn't understand why.

You couldn't hold your tongue any longer. You needed to know what his problem was.

"Armin."

He didn't turn around. He continued walking and you heard the keys jingle in his coat pocket.

You frowned.

"Armin, please," you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Stop ignoring me and talk to me, will you?"

"Nothing to say," he replied with a shrug, glancing at you and back at the car in front of him. "We're here. Get in." He punched in the correct code to unlock the door and had the passenger door unlock itself as well.

You stood there next to him and crossed your arms over your chest. "No. Not until we talk this out."

He sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair, "There's nothing to discuss. Least not right now. Just wanna get home, eat some takeout and go to sleep. Sound alright with you?"

For some reason, the fact that you didn't get to return the favor earlier began to genuinely bother you. Why didn't he want you to do anything for him? When had he ever turned something like that down? It had to be because of you. He wasn't tired. He was lying and he was a fool to even think that you were going to believe any bit of that.

"No. Let's talk. Now."

He gave you a blank look before slamming the car door shut.

"Alright." He leaned against it, hands back in his pockets, a bored expression on his face. "Talk."

Under clear judgmental eyes, you fidgeted in place, suddenly not knowing how to even start the conversation. Now that he was willing to hear you out, it felt strange to talk to him about it because maybe you were blowing it way out of proportion. What if he was actually just hungry and tired? But he wasn't too tired to get upset with you earlier...

He cleared his throat, looking off to the side like he could've been anywhere else right about now. "Gonna speak or should we just head home now?"

"No, I-"

"You know," he looked back at you and tilted his head, unable to shake the fact that he managed to steal someone as pretty as you. He felt lucky, but right now – he could hardly even look at you without feeling a spark of anger. "You're so confusing, you know that?" Your brows creased in confusion but he was more than happy to continue. "You want me, then proceed to piss me off by wearing something I didn't give you. Then I find out you're talking to Mikasa about...what? As if I'm mistreating you or something. You sit at home and write for a living. I own a bakery shop, successful at that and we live in a luxurious apartment. What are you going off and telling her about? Are you not happy with me anymore? Do I not make you happy?"

You could feel the tension in the air rising and sighed, trying to keep your emotions under control. "Armin, no listen. I-"

"No," he pushed himself off of the car, clear irritation looming over his head. "Tell me. Tell me what the fucking problem is because I'm over here doing everything that I can to make sure that you don't want or need for anything. You have access to my bank and I take you out on dates. You know the password to my phone so you know you’re the only one I’m interested in. We fuck almost everyday and I love you more than anyone else ever has. What's your deal? Huh? Are you unhappy with me? Just answer the fucking question."

It was clear that his anger came from something he’d been holding onto for quite a while. It wasn’t just because of what you told Mikasa or getting under his skin with your usual charade of pissing him off — no. This was different. It sounded like his trust issues were getting to him again and you weren’t sure if what you had in mind to say was going to help him this time.

"Armin, I am happy with you. I promise," the look on his face didn't change, just as you had expected. "I just think you're overthinking stuff again. I told you that I love you, and I do. I feel like there's still unnecessary tension with us and I'm trying to figure out a way to move past all of this."

He scoffed, "And yet you still ran off and told Mikasa god knows what. Shit that's probably not even true."

"For fucks' sake, Armin," you rolled your eyes, "It was the truth. We argue and fight way too much. Just earlier, you broke the bathroom door down just because I locked it! How fucking insane is that? Or do you wanna act like that didn't happen?"

He gripped the keys in his hand tightly, the mail key pushing into his soft skin little by little. "Like you didn't make me do that," he angrily replied. "I told you about locked doors. Maybe if you didn't do things to cause those arguments and fights, you wouldn't be so fucking unhappy!"

You threw your purse down in anger, throwing your arms out. "Armin, who the hell's unhappy here? I said I'm happy with you! God, you don't listen and that's because you'd rather believe whatever truth you decide to cook up than what I actually tell you! All because of your horrible past relationships with other women and maybe going further back to childhood, which you refuse to tell me about!"

He looked away from you and chose to stay silent as you walked up to him, arms crossed.

"The more closed off you become, the more distant I become. Do you understand?" You tried to look for some sort of breakthrough in his face but found none. He looked hot with rage with no other vulnerable emotion in sight. It almost broke your heart because you wanted to desperately know what was going on inside of his head but he continued to refuse letting you in. "I appreciate all of the things that you do for me, but its' all materialistic. It's not enough. It's just not, and I think you know that."

He turned his head back towards you, oceanic eyes narrowing, "Do you think I give a shit? What I choose to share or don't share isn't any of your business. You either like it or you don't. I'm done with this conversation. Get in the car. We're going home."

Armin moved to open the door but found you still standing there.

"Get in."

"No."

He took you by your wrist, grabbed your purse from the ground and began pulling you around the car to the passenger side. "Pissing me off."

"And I don't care! Let go!" You fought him by pulling at your wrist, trying to tug him back so that he could release you. He wasn't having many of it and still yanked you onward. It wasn't until he felt a few of your nails scratch at his skin that he finally reacted.

"Fuck!"

As an immediate response, he slammed you forward onto the hood of the car, pressing his entire body onto you to keep you still as you tried bucking and pushing against him.

"Get off of me!"

He used the arm that had gotten scratched and pushed your cheek into the car. "Listen and listen good," you whined, trying to focusing on calming your breathing and not getting light headed from the adrenaline. "Scratch me like that again," he chuckled, "and I'll scratch back." His eyebrows furrowed, making sure to lock your hands behind your back so you wouldn't have the opportunity to get him again. "You fight me when you already know what happens. I'm stronger than you. Where do you think not listening to me gets you? And you think that I'm the bad guy."

Armin full on laughed, looking up at the night sky, "Ah fuck. All of this useless arguing's got me kinda hard, to be honest." He looked back down at you in a half grin before his eyes trailed down to your ass, finding your dress pushed up from the struggling. "Maybe I should fuck you in this parking lot." He heard you gasp but it fell on deaf ears. "Guess you wouldn't mind huh?"

He removed the hand that was on your head and slid it down your neck and back until it was on your bottom. His fingers played with the edges of your underwear, humming to himself. "Nah. You wouldn't mind that at all. Bet you'd love someone catching us. What would you do if they stayed for the show? Hm?" he smacked your ass and you moaned out before biting your lip in shame.

None of this was supposed to turn you on. You two were in public.

What Armin was talking about doing was shameful. You'd rather die than let some stranger catch you getting fucked. Or even heard you for that matter.

"Armin, please," you pleaded, wiggling in his hold which only made him laugh.

"Oh god, when you beg, you make it so much worse," he commented, slowly tugging down your panties until they were tight against your thighs. He groaned at the sight, letting his middle finger dip past your slippery folds, catching onto a little of your arousal. "Fuck, what a shameless whore you are. Wet from the idea of me fucking you out in the open. Hah..." he smiled wide before bringing the wet digit to his lips, slipping his tongue out to collect every bit of you from it. "I feel delirious. You taste so good baby." He moaned, glancing down at your trembling form. "So willing yet so combative. You act so shy yet your body gives you away every time."

Your thighs rubbed together in want but you were in fact ashamed. How could you let him do this to you? You were well within your right to tell him no, get in the car and forget any of it ever happened. You didn't have to give into the idea of letting him touch you for someone to see.

But did you want that?

He was so close. It was so easy for him to do it. To let him do it. Do whatever he wanted with you on the hood of his car and maybe you needed to let him because you wanted it just as bad.

"I want you..." you whispered, too embarrassed to admit it any louder. "Please touch me."

Usually he would've forced you to be louder for the hell of it but ever since he caught the way you looked at him like he was the most disgusting man on earth back in the restaurant after causing the fight with Eren and Mikasa – he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. He loved when you wanted nothing to do with him. That in your eyes, you were telling him that you could do so much better than someone as shitty as him. He wanted to fuck that feeling. Fuck it into the sheets until he couldn't physically go on anymore.

It turned him on so much.

"You're gonna make me put a fucking baby in you right in this fucking parking lot," he admitted before quickly hooking a few fingers around your underwear, ripping it right off. You squealed and flexed your fingers in surprise, feeling the cool night air hit your puffy cunt. "Fuck me," he muttered to himself, lifting the bunched up fabric in his hand to his nose, taking a good inhale. He released a euphoric breath, looking down at you with stars in his eyes. "If Eren so much as looks at you for more than three seconds again, I'm gonna kill him." He chuckled, feeling you stiffen against him. He leaned down while stuffing your soiled underwear in his back pocket. "Like I will actually drive a pocket knife into his neck the next time I see him so you'd better hope he's got his dick in the right person or I won't hesitate. Now," he leaned back up and smacked your ass, earning himself another pretty moan from you. "My cock needs a little warming and I know just the place to put it. Can you guess?"

You balled your hands back into fists and begged him to let your arms go so you could grasp at something, anything. He granted it and stepped back to undo his belt. You placed your palms flat against the hood and let out a breath, the heat of it creating a puff of fog next to you. Your dress was still flipped up and your ass was bare for anyone to walk by and see. It should've unnerved you but your only thought was Armin, Armin, Armin.

Nothing but him and it wasn't necessary to tell out loud because he already knew. You wouldn't have still been lying there if he didn't.

The feeling of his tip rubbing up and down your folds caused you to jump a little, wiggling your hips for more.

He smirked, "Eager, are we?"

"Mhm," you shamefully hummed, breath ragged. "Want it so bad. Please, please. And I'm sorry about the argument, about what I said at the table and what I told Mika. It won't happen again, I promi- Ah!"

Armin pushed his cock into you in one full stroke, holding your hips in place, hearing you let out a broken wail that made him rock solid. Your walls clamped down on him and it almost made him cum pathetically fast but he held onto his restraint. He wanted to make this last for more than thirty seconds.

"Fuck baby," he was looking down at the way you were tightly wrapped around him, a sight to behold. Some of his fringe was sticking to his forehead as beads of sweat continued to roll down the side of his face. He laughed, licking his lips, "You're so fucking tight. We haven't even started and I'm about to lose my mind."

When he began moving his hips, without the need of hearing you tell him to, nothing came to mind but wanting to cum. In that moment, you cared for nothing else. The worries had been cleared up. Armin did want you and was just upset about everything as a whole. It wasn't particularly you, just the situations you'd put him through.

Armin still wanted you, physically, and it almost made you want to cry. You were still useful. That was all you'd wanted.

"My god," he breathed, holding your hip with one hand while the other laid at the lower end of your back, pushing down so that he could keep himself steady. "So good for me, so so good."

"Harder please!" you moaned out, trying to push your hips back against him, clawing into the car. "I need more, want more."

"Mmm," he took the hand off of your hip and hiked your leg up onto the hood so that he could gain access to that little bundle of nerves he knew would have you screaming his name. "If I'm going to cum, so are you. Need to feel you clench around me one more time before this is over."

He pressed two fingers against your clit and grinned when he heard you whine out his name, moving them in circles. The purposeful dragging of his cock going in and out of your pretty hole almost distracted you from being unable to see his face as he did it.

The positioning didn't allow you to do much other than lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to. The fact that you were outside of the restaurant, albeit a few yards away, was exhilarating. There was no telling who was bound to walk by and see you getting fucked by your boyfriend. It didn't really matter to you. Nothing did other than coming undone right on Armin's cock.

"Ah! Armin, I can't- I don't think I can hold out m-much longer!"

You felt him press his chest into your back, lips against your ear, "If you're gonna cum stupid girl, cum."

He didn't have to tell you that.

You were already past making the decision.

His name was the last thing to roll off of your tongue as you came, almost seeing stars. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, accepting your second orgasm of the night. Skin so sticky and hot, mind completely out of it and your body jolting from the aftershock of the pleasure. Even so, all you wanted to do was lay there and let him finish since this was about him anyway. If nothing else, at least you were able to do this for him.

Armin had both hands firmly on your hips, using your spent cunt as his own little flashlight, fucking you like an animal in heat. Desperate to reach his high and fill you up with every last drop of his seed, intent on letting you know that you belonged to him and no one else.

Definitely not Eren.

The thought of the brunette quickly made him angry and his pace quickened, giving you a few slaps across the ass, eyes completely focused on his cock driving in and out of you.

"You're mine, do you understand? No one else's. I'm all that you need. All that you'll ever know. I won't let anyone else have you. Mine, mine mine," he growled, taking out his leftover anger onto you. "Fuck," he moaned brokenly, feeling his balls tightened. "I'm gonna breed the fuck out of this pretty pussy," he curled a hand around your throat, ignoring your weak moans. "-and make you a mommy, baby. Would you like that? Huh?" You choked out a whimper, giving him a nod. He groaned against the shell of your ear, eating up the slapping sounds his balls hitting your ass. "God, I'm gonna fill your little cunt up until you're dripping it out. Need to make sure you know who you belong to and to not try that shit with me ever again, yeah?"

"Yes!" You were barely listening to him, feeling your walls constrict yet again. For the first time, you realized that you were about to cum without any clit stimulation. You never knew it was even possible for you but as the pressure continued to build, your suspicion was right.

Armin felt it too.

His high pitched moan into the night air was signal enough that he couldn't hold out much longer, and spurted his seed right into you, panting your gummy walls in nothing but white. His cock twitched until it was done pumping you full but he didn't bother to pull out of you yet. He laid on top of you, covering your neck in little kisses.

"My pretty girl," he mumbled, hands rubbing up and down your sides. "I love you."

Your mind was still foggy so without thinking too much about it, you replied, "I love yo- Eren?"

Armin frowned almost instantly, believing that you'd been thinking about Eren instead of him and looked up to find you looking off to the side. His curious blue pools followed your line of sight and widened upon seeing what you saw.

Eren stood not too far away, arms by his side, rigid in shock.

He'd seen everything.

You knew it.

And yet, a part of you wasn't embarrassed. In fact...

A part of you hoped he'd seen it all.

And judging from the bulge in his pants, he had.

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next chapter coming soon!

end note: if you want to be tagged in future chapters for this fic, pls lmk!

© all content belongs to temptedbysyn 2022. do not modify or translate without permission.

[syn-city]

1k???????? idk what to do or what to sa- actually, i should probably get chap two finished huh 🤔

[syn-city]

regarde nous – eren j. x fem!reader [ part I ]

synopsis: after a night out at a bar, you wake up to a beautiful mysterious man in your bed. despite being a stranger, he keeps coming back because maybe he’s got nowhere else to go and home seems to be wherever you are.

genre: modernau!, romance/fluff, lots of angst, hurt/comfort, psychological thriller, supernatural/mythology, small town au!, yandere!eren, mentions of death, heavy violence, psychotic!eren, eventual smut

chapter warnings: swearing, slight suggestive themes, clingy/cocky eren

word count: 5.2k

a/n: so this is my first drop of work here on this platform so i’m very nervous. in addition, i don’t really write for people as often as i would like so i’m not sure how this will be received, but taking a chance :”)

another thing – as this is a fresh idea of mine, i don’t have much of a direction for this right now so pls don’t expect too much. i am kind of going with the feel honestly. i do have some sort of plot? but nothing concrete! but theories are welcomed ofc.

i am also currently working on two other fics but this idea came to me out of the nowhere and i really wanted to write it out. guess we’ll see where this goes, huh?

part one. part two. part three. (coming soon)

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The room was warm.

A faint tune of some song played in the background as the warmth of the sun shone through the white satin curtains.

A bird rested by the windowsill, mirroring a statue as it perched still.

The sky was clear. An ocean of blue. It felt like a summer day in the middle of September.

At seventy five degrees, with a cool breeze, it could've easily been spring. Yet, the weather was at the brink of fall. It was a nice day to be outside or inside admiring the beautiful, warm day.

You were nestled under the cozy, soft sheets, your mind still foggy with sleep. Every part of your body sent signals to your brain to stay put; to continue sleeping. On the other hand, you felt so hot. The room was suffocating, and your body felt uncomfortable and sticky.

You groaned. With one eye cracked open, you saw another body curled around yours. His head was tucked underneath your chin, long arms snaked around your torso, legs tangled in yours. There was no space between the two of you, which explained why you felt like you were burning up. And sticky. Sweaty and sticky. You frowned. It was early in the afternoon, the sun was out, the room was hot, and to make matters worse, the man against you was a human furnace.

You grew annoyed. How was he sleeping so well? The temperature in the room could’ve easily been around eighty degrees. The heat was draining, and it made you want to go back to sleep but you weren't comfortable. You wanted to get out of the bed. Desperately.

Gently, you tried to move one of his arms, but he didn't budge. He had a tight hold on you, as if you would disappear the moment he let you go. You couldn't even see his face. You weren't sure who he even was, but oddly, that wasn't much of your concern. You remembered bits and pieces from last night, but the memory was hazy.

— flashback.

“Are you good with getting back home on your own?”

You giggled, stumbling off to the side. The dark haired male caught you by your elbow, smiling at your clumsiness.

“I think I can make it?” You didn’t sound very convincing and it was how the guy ended up taking you home himself. It was supposed to be a quick drop off but you struggled with the seat belt and looked like you weren’t going to be able to make it inside of the building without tumbling over so he took it upon himself to help you inside.

“You’re so sweet,” you said against the arm you were holding onto as the two of you walked towards the elevator. He only found you cute and made sure you got to your apartment safe and sound but you didn’t let him leave. You begged him to stay because you didn’t feel safe being on your own for the night.

He couldn’t tell you no. Not even if he tried.

So, he got you inside. Had you sit on the bed as he knelt by your feet, taking your heels off one by one. You were giggling and talking nonsense. Running your fingers through his hair, fingertips brushing against his tinted red cheek as you told him how pretty he was. He tried to ignore it and finally got you in bed. He wasn’t one to undress someone he didn’t know or without consent so he let you stay in that pretty black dress you had on. It didn’t seem as though you were uncomfortable considering the moment he pulled the covers over you, you were out.

Though, when he smiled and turned away to leave out of the room, intending to leave the apartment – you reached out and grabbed his hand. You cried for him to stay and it was another battle lost. Those pretty eyes of yours, brimmed with tears. Voice trembling with want. You needed him to stay.

How could he even think about saying no to you?

— end.

A few things clicked in place as you took a peek back down at the guy wrapped around you. He was from the bar last night. He’d taken you home with good graces and stayed because you couldn’t let him leave. A complete stranger that could’ve been a serial killer or something. Maybe your rash decision came from being so lonely after the breakup with Jean. Maybe you needed someone to take up his side of the bed again. A big bed with just you in it.

Now, it wasn’t empty.

It was full and warm with another tall body.

Arms that held you at the middle of the bed. Lips that were pressed against your collarbone, breathing warmly against your equally warm skin. Legs that trapped yours underneath them, keeping you right where he needed you. There was a mess of brown everywhere. It was just below your chin and it told you he liked his hair a little long. The elastic band that held a small handful of his hair was slipping out from its tight grip that it was in last night. All you could see were long, dark lashes that fluttered every so often.

It was tempting to touch him. To push some of his hair away so that you could see the face that was pushed into your neck. To understand why you had felt so comfortable to allow someone you hardly knew into your home and into your bed. He looked content. So snug, you didn’t have the heart to shake him awake.

The level of uneasiness was low. The fact that you had let the guy in and felt secure enough to let him sleep with you told you that he wasn’t really a bad guy. That some part of you knew he could be trusted. It was still a risk. You didn’t know this man but it felt like you did.

The way he held you, breathed against your neck, body relaxed against yours and with a peace of mind, knowing he could also trust you during such a vulnerable state.

The sun that escaped past the curtains poured in more as the day began to stretch. The rays hit directly behind you, growing closer as the time ticked on. You could feel the warmth against your lower back and released a low sigh. It was time to get up. The sun was going to ruin the morning if the curtains weren’t drawn shut.

The moment you wiggled your hips, you heard a groan vibrate throughout the body that was pressed closely against you. His arms tightened around you almost instinctively and you couldn’t fight back the burn along your cheeks and nose. Didn’t seem like he was going to let you go. It was a problem.

“Hey…” you muttered in a faint tone, careful not to startle him too much as you laid a hand against one of his arms. “I have to get up..”

“No.”

His voice was deep, rough around the edges and reached your ears quickly, surprising you. His response was curt.

He’d meant it.

He moved down until his cheek rested against your tummy, humming at the new positioning. His legs were still hooked around yours and his arms were now circled across your hips, hands dangerously close to your bottom. It was only then did you realize that he was shirtless and you were only clad in a see through laced gown in a faint color of white.

You looked down and saw that the floral patterns across your chest weren’t enough to hide your nipples which made you feel even more exposed to the stranger next to you.

When had you changed? Didn’t you go to bed in the same dress from last night?

Did he…change you?

In that moment, you knew that it was time to get up.

Or at least do a better job at trying to get up.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you gently peeled one of his arms off of you. “I need to get up.”

His other arm wasn’t budging and it was beginning to annoy you. He didn’t know you and you were sure that he was at least half awake. Half aware of what he was doing.

You worked with what you had and managed to scoot away from him just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

You smiled and looked back at the sleeping man.

It dropped.

Even through sleep, he looked unreal.

Had he really been the same guy from the bar last night? Or did you mistakingly pick up some random guy after the one in the bar?

From his dark brows to his curved nose and soft lips, nothing seemed facially familiar to you.

Nevertheless, it was hard to peel your eyes away.

You looked back down at your attire and could’ve died on the spot all over again.

There was no way he hadn’t changed you in the middle of the night. He was shirtless and you were damn near naked. Couldn’t he have chosen something a little more–

“Mm, what are you doing way over there?”

You heard his voice mumble from behind you before feeling his arms pull you by from your hips, towards him again.

You felt your back meet his warm chest and found yourself frozen in his hold.

You were in between his legs, leaned back against his front with his chin at the top of your head.

What were you supposed to do?

Tangled back in the sheets with his arms around you again.

Slowly, you tilted your head back and looked up at him.

His pretty dark eyes flickered down to you and his strong gaze made you immediately shy. You could do nothing but look elsewhere. He caught your jaw, and made you return your focus back onto him. Finding success, he smirked down at you and it set your skin on fire.

His hair fell beautifully, framing his face with the tips tickling at your nose. He didn’t look away and you couldn’t either. Not when he was forcing you to stare right back.

What were you supposed to say?

You didn’t know this man. At least, if you met him in the bar and had a conversation with him, you didn’t remember anything he may have said about himself. You were only going based off of what you saw and what you saw…

He was so attractive, it was painful.

He didn’t look like anyone in town. No one you’d ever seen before. Except maybe on tv, walking runways at a fashion show in London or Paris.

You lived in a small city; population a few thousand.

No one this gorgeous ever came through your little town.

No one.

He was the first you’d ever seen and by some strange dumb luck, he was in your bed.

Holding you. Staring at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

It was impossible not to feel immensely intimidated.

Why you?

Out of everyone in that bar last night, why had he chosen you to talk to? Were you special? You wore a simple black dress. Nothing you couldn’t afford without coming up short for rent soon. Did you look interesting to approach? You preferred to stay far away from people. Chose to drink at the end of the bar where it was the darkest. Where no one saw you.

Where you were able to drink alone and chug away your sorrows.

He’d managed to spot you out of everyone in that room and no matter how you’d flipped and turned it — it couldn’t make sense to you.

Why you?

“Aren’t you going to ask me why you’re wearing that?” He spoke, his low and smooth voice startling you back into the present. You felt his hands play at the middle of your stomach, fingertips slightly dipping into your soft skin.

You blinked, still looking at him. “Okay. Why am I wearing this?”

He blinked back and moved his gaze along your body, still holding a faint smile. “You kept pulling at your dress. If you woke up naked, I wasn’t sure what you were going to assume. So, I gave you the first thing I found in your top drawer. Is it okay?”

His tone seemed a bit playful. Like he was very aware of how revealing the gown was and wanted to eat up your annoyed reaction towards his choice of dressing you.

Naturally, it was annoying.

With an exasperated look, you pushed his hand away from your face and turned around. “Look, I don’t care about that.” He rose a questionable brow. You sighed, “Well, I do but it’s not my main focus right now. I want to know why you chose to stay. You didn’t have to. I was a complete stranger asking you to stay with me and you did. What made you even say yes in the first place?”

He dropped his brow and rested his palms against the sides of your legs. He was silently thankful that you were still close enough for him to touch.

“Dunno,” he half answered along with a shrug. “Felt pretty obligated when you started to cry. I hate seeing girls cry.” He drew small circles into your thighs that almost distracted you as you listened. “I know we’re strangers. I kind of just moved here and wanted to get to know someone last night.” His eyes drifted from your eyes to the window across the room. The sun had fully made it’s entrance and lit up the other side of the bed. He could feel the warmth from where he was. “Should I have left? You were pretty upset.”

You couldn’t help but look away from him.

It was embarrassing. Of course you were upset.

The break up with Jean had been nasty.

He’d left during another one of your shouting matches and claimed to be tired of the same old thing. Arguing over and over about the same problems that started when you two started dating.

He was too jealous and insecure to let you do any of things you wanted to do.

How could you stay with someone that wouldn’t allow you to even leave the apartment without him?

— flashback.

“It’s a trip. A small trip with the girls, that’s it.”

“I don’t care. You’re not going. End of story.”

Jean walked about the apartment looking for something that he needed for work and you were tailing behind him every agonizing step of the way.

It felt degrading not being able to make a decision on your own. Especially when it was something for you.

Why couldn’t he understand where you were coming from? It was just going to be a small trip away with your friends. Two or three days, tops.

Jean was too reluctant on letting you leave without him. He feared that you were going to meet someone and leave him for them.

You loved him. Why would you do something like that?

He couldn’t see past his own insecurities.

He loved you too much.

You only wished he could love you just a little less.

“Nothing’s going to happen-“

He turned around, almost knocking you over from how close you were behind him. The look on his face mirrored exhaustion and irritation. An expression you didn’t like seeing on him for good reason.

“When I say no, it’s a no,” he reached a hand out and you flinched from instinct, afraid he was going to- “Baby…” he frowned and it made you feel bad. “C’mere.” He pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around him, feeling tears brim at your water line. “I can’t let you go because I can’t go. If I could make the time, I would. Can you respect the fact that this will just have to happen at another time? Hm?”

He held you like he cared. He held you like he loved you. He held you like he was making this decision for your own good and not his. As if he was coddling an inevitable decision that had to happen.

How hard was it for him to let you go?

To say yes?

More importantly, why did you need his approval?

You didn’t.

So you left.

You should’ve never came back home.

When you walked through the door after being gone for almost four days instead of maybe just three, the entire apartment was cleaned out.

Not even a speck of dust was left.

Jean…was gone.

Like he never even existed.

— end.

The breakup with Jean was undeniably one of the most heartbreaking things you’d ever been put through.

You never ran into him after that. It should’ve felt like a good thing but you found yourself missing him terribly at times. Looking for him on the other side of the bed.

Desperate to wake up one morning and hear the shower running with his god awful singing in the background.

To wake up to the smell of breakfast and walk into the kitchen to see him half naked, standing over the stove.

To feel his lips against your cheek before he dashed out of the door for work.

To make it home from work before him and have dinner ready for the both of you. Talking and laughing over the day while eating your bad cooking.

To spend an hour or so in the shower with him, feeling his hasty hands all over your body, gripping you in sore places filled with marks from the night before, kissing you in places he’d already marked and feeling him push inside of you, walls pulsating around his cock with your back against the cool, stoned shower.

To feel his hands comb through your hair as you listened to him hum a tune you never knew. To curl up against him in bed, wrapped up in his arms and falling asleep to his voice as he droned on and on about his day.

Today was different.

Different because you didn’t wake up alone again.

You were with someone; albeit a stranger.

Someone that held you better than Jean had.

Someone you…forgot the name to.

“Sorry, what was your name again?”

He breathed sharply out of his nose before an airy chuckle escaped him.

“Eren. Name’s Eren.”

It still didn’t sound all that familiar but it was good to get his name. Especially since he’d seen your half naked and slept in your bed.

The aching headache that pulsed at the back of your head began to make its appearance.

With a low groan, you rubbed at your forehead.

“Hate hangovers.”

He watched you for a moment before he moved off of the bed.

Questionably, your eyes moved with him as he disappeared into your bathroom, rummaging through a cabinet. It sounded like the one above your towel rack that held a few bottles of medicine and a few miscellaneous items. If he was doing what you thought he was, it was going to freak you out because how did he know where your bottle of aspirin was located? Like he’d done it before…

True to your suspicion, he walked out with two small white pills at the palm of his hand. He grabbed the half full water bottle that was on your dresser before sitting at the edge of the bed.

He motioned for you to come to him and you chose to stare at him, heart beating rapidly against your chest.

“Hey…” you blinked, too alarmed to move. “How did you know where that was?”

Eren sighed, dropping his hand on the bed. “Just come here, will ya.”

You shook your head, moving backwards. Your feet hit the floor and you were thankful for the distance put between the both of you.

“No. I think…I think I want you to leave.”

It was strange to think that some hot guy had stalked you enough to know your place better than you but it wasn’t impossible to believe. Weirder things happened. Just not to you, of all people.

Many thoughts ran through your mind. Whether he was a serial killer or someone worse. The things he had planned for you. How, if you tried to run, he’d easily catch you.

You wondered what else slipped your mind from last night and how important was it to remember it.

There was just no way you were going to let yourself end up on the channel five news as a missing person or worse; dead in a ditch, somewhere.

Your eyes followed him putting both items on the dresser next to your bed and watched him stand up. It was only then did you take notice of how tall he actually was compared to you. Not to mention, his build was a bit intimidating as well.

Maybe your chances of escaping were slim to none.

Wasn’t like you weren’t going to try if it came down to it.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Eren said with a tired look that didn’t match the growing fear you felt for him. “You told me last night. Not that you’d remember that.”

As he spoke, he got closer. He rounded the bed and you were close to the window now. You owned a balcony but it wasn’t like that was a good escape route. Not if you wanted to soar to your death and splat across the concrete.

The door was the only way.

His hair was completely out of its weak bun now, pretty brown strands laid across his shoulders. It looked soft enough to touch. To get lost in.

You tried to think more about last night. The exact moment you’d told him about the medicine in the cabinet but nothing was resurfacing. Was he lying to you?

Would it have been shocking if he was?

He was a total stranger.

Of course there was a good chance he was lying to you.

In the midst of your thinking, you didn’t notice how close he’d gotten and knew that your window of moving away from him was only growing smaller and smaller so you ducked under the arm that tried to reach for you and climbed on the bed to get to the other side.

Your heart was racing. You saw the other end of the bed and almost threw a leg out to get off of it when you felt a hand enclose around one of your ankles, tugging you backwards.

You yelped and was flipped onto your back with Eren hovered over you, an arm trapping one of your wrists above your head and the other pressed into the mattress next to your head.

“Don’t look so frightened. Christ, you act like I’m going to actually hurt you,” he said with a deeper frown, a tick in his jaw. “I’m not a murderer or anything like that. Just trying to help you.”

“Does this look like you’re helping me?!” You hissed out, chest rising and falling with adrenaline. He rolled his eyes.

“You’re so annoying, y’know that.”

He let you go and sat crisscrossed at the middle of the bed, not looking at you anymore. You quickly sat up and drew your legs up to your chest, watching him intently.

You were happy that he had moved away because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the feeling of him pinning you down like that. You almost wanted him to do it again but blamed your hormones on not having sex for almost an entire year.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. It didn’t look like he was going to start talking to you again any time soon so you turned your attention to the pills he’d gotten for you. You squinted at them before releasing a sigh and taking them off the dark surface.

You popped them in your mouth and let them follow with a swig of water from the plastic bottle. Unbeknownst to you, Eren watched you from the corner of his eye and fought back a smile as he turned away just before you looked back at him.

“Okay,” you began, not wanting to fight again. “Um…thanks. For the pills, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

You sighed. Maybe you’d been wrong about him. Just a little.

What if he was just some normal guy that was interested in your well-being and wanted to make sure you didn’t have a raging headache for an entire day? Was it so strange that someone cared about you?

Nothing was ever going to not lead back to your relationship with Jean, it seemed.

“Look, I’m sorry.”

Your apology felt a bit weak even to you and you knew that he wasn’t going to take you very seriously.

“Okay no, listen,” you scooted closer to him and noticed his body stiffen at feeling your body heat behind him. “Just tell me. Are you one of the good guys, weird and wanting to secretly kidnap me or are you an asshole pretending to be a good guy?”

He looked at you from over his shoulder, tempted to laugh. “What?”

You blinked, unable to understand what could be even remotely funny. You were trying to trust him enough not to immediately kick him out of your place. Answering a few questions seemed more than doable.

“Just answer the question. Honest or I’ll know.”

“Doubt that.“

“Eren.”

He smiled. “You said my name.” He saw you narrow your eyes at him and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll humour you then. I would consider myself one of the good guys but my ex would definitely say I’m pretty toxic so I guess that would make me a good guy with asshole tendencies?”

You found yourself letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. “If you’re an ass, you’re an ass. Should probably just say that.”

He laughed. “No because it’s not completely true.”

“Yeah. Sure. Well, you passed the test.”

You gave him a pat on the back and moved off of the bed again. You walked to the closet and pulled out the first shirt and shorts you saw. From the corner of your eye, you noticed his gaze on you and you felt the blood rush to your face.

“Hey…by any chance, were you joking earlier? About changing me?”

Eren shook his head. “Nope,” he smirked. “Saw everything.”

The bear, from the shelf near you, that came flying towards his face was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

0000

“Here. You have to press it and keep it there, idiot.”

“Wouldn’t have to do this if you hadn’t football thrown that stupid bear at me.”

“Shut up. You’re not dying. You’ll be fine,” you said with another roll of your eyes as you walked back to the sink to wash your hands. “How was I supposed to know one of his beady little eyes was going to hit one of yours? Not the bad guy here.”

Eren sat at the kitchen table, frowning and holding a damp rag with a few pieces of ice inside right up against his injured eye. “Yeah, that’s why you think before you do. But nope. Just monkey see, monkey do.”

You sighed heavily before spinning around to look at him with an annoyed look. “Are you kidding me? Are you actually calling me a monkey? I’m sorry okay? Remind me to never throw a stuffed animal at you ever again. Christ.”

You turned your back towards him again and decided that was all he was going to get if he was going to choose to be so rude towards you. Not like you’d done it on purpose. It was more on instinct than anything vindictive.

“Shouldn’t have joked about seeing me naked and maybe you’d have 20-20 vision right now.”

“Okay, Quarterback. Excuse me for making the wrong call. Remind me to never joke with you again, yeah?”

You gave him the finger from over your shoulder and heard him laugh, ending that discussion.

It was still a bit early in the day so you decided to make a little breakfast for the both of you. It didn’t seem like he was leaving anytime soon so perhaps to thank him for getting you home so safely last night, cooking a bit of food seemed appropriate enough.

You weren’t an excellent cook by no means and Eren was more than willing to make that known unlike Jean who pretended it was always good. He never did like to voice anything negative towards something nice you did for him. He always took your gestures as something to treasure and savour. Eren on the other hand…

“Yikes, this could’ve stayed in the pan a little longer.”

“I love burnt bacon! Thank you!”

“Why are the eggs so…wet?”

“No toast? Understandable.”

“Oj’s a little flat…and why does it have pulp?”

Eren was an annoying little shit that didn’t know how to be the least bit of appreciative towards your hospitable gesture of making him a little comfortable and using cooking as a way to thank him for last night.

Maybe you should’ve went with your first mind and made him a bowl of oatmeal.

After breakfast, you made him wash the dishes and pans used. He complained all the way to the sink but once the water ran, you couldn’t care less what came out of his mouth. As long as he got to scrubbing.

You let out a short yawn and a long stretch before standing up.

“Think I’m going to shower.”

You made sure he heard you and once you got a nod, you left down the hallway, to your room.

You didn’t stay in the shower that long. Not when Eren was left to roam around alone, without being under your surveillance. No telling what he was going to get himself into or find. When you walked out, clothed in a dark grey crop top and jeans, you didn’t see him anywhere. You checked the living room, the bedroom, the spare room and even the laundry room.

Eren was nowhere to be seen.

“Hm,” you let out a breath, hands on your hips. Your eyes fell on the front door and it was locked. You frowned and cocked your head in wonder. How…

The cell phone left on the counter from last night vibrated against the granite, scaring you half to death. You laughed to yourself and made your way over to see who it was. If Eren was gone, it was more of a relief than anything else.

It was a text from your best friend, Mikasa.

– mika mika

wanna grab a coffee or something? having girl trouble rn :(( #SOS

delivered, 9:12am

You took a glance down at your attire and figured it was good enough. You quickly retrieved your coat, keys, wallet and cell before leaving the apartment. You made sure to lock it behind you and headed towards the elevators that’d soon lead down to the parking garage. If Mikasa added a hashtag with ‘sos’ at the end, that only meant something was wrong. Then again, her and Ymir always did have problems. You wondered what was the issue now.

Once you were in the elevator, you were instantly immersed into your phone. You missed the figure that walked out of a dark corner next to your door. Missed how they pulled a spare key from their person and unlocked the door, waltzing right in.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

click for the next chapter!

© all content belongs to temptedbysyn 2021. do not modify or translate without permission.

[ohpannoinno]

(1) Hello everyone. I’m from Ukraine. Please help spread the information about African and Nigerian students in Ukraine. #AfricansinUkraine

I read from @ nzekiev on twitter that the day before yesterday it was very hard for Africans to get on any train in Kyiv, they were letting them in the last, many managed to get in only coz they started pushing African women into the train so they had to allow everyone in. Before that if they managed to get on the train they were sent back outside with the phrase “Ukrainians first”, but nobody was checking anyone’s passports.

Today, February 27, he says the Ukrainian soldiers at the Polish border were holding them at gunpoint if they crossed the border before Ukrainians. These are students, they can’t be fighting this war!!! Other people of color share on twitter that it’s harder for them to cross the border, a Nigerian medical student told @ stephheharty they were told Ukrainians go first and were sent to the back of the queue by Ukrainian soldiers on Polish border.

@ Damilare_arah shared a video where Ukrainian soldiers block Africans from getting on trains. (https://twitter.com/Damilare_arah/status/1497654141350522880?t=rkNx-B9TffKopCRtfgZodA&s=19)

I can’t figure out how to download videos from Twitter so I’m attaching screenshots. (https://twitter.com/Damilare_arah/status/1497855205098106880?t=gi_dUgx8nFI36KqlH-CeEA&s=19) (https://twitter.com/nzekiev/status/1497805019311218689?t=hz-3gS0hFxwAZQddLZI85w&s=19)

We must help. They can’t be denied shelter while every other white Ukrainian gets to cross the border right before their eyes. @ chylady and @ Damilare_arah share all the important information for Africans and Nigerians on where to find help and also donations.

@ korrinesky is actively sharing all the information. This thread increases to this day and time https://twitter.com/korrinesky/status/1496770898019303427?t=oheEMMWK2KecFzPFWb05iA&s=19

They also have a Telegram chat for African and Caribbean students who are in Lviv but I can’t seem to be able to copy the link directly so I’m sending the link to the tweet: https://twitter.com/korrinesky/status/1497661192038453251?t=1bzZxfWvu-zf-zQhFk4BMw&s=19

Use the hashtag #AfricansinUkraine and mentions @UN @RedCross @UNESCO @wateraid @amnesty @gatesfoundation @FordFoundation @ActionAid @Oxfam on twitter.

[ohpannoinno]

(2)

Here’s some of the information where Africans and Nigerians can find help:

RESOURCES FOR UKRAINIAN REFUGEES:

RESOURCES FOR UKRAINIAN REFUGEES AND SUPPORTERS

RESOURCES FOR UKRAINIAN REFUGEES AND SUPPORTERS Table of contents (in this document) INFORMATION ON CURRENT HUMANITARIAN CORRIDORS/OPEN BO

Use the hashtag #AfricansinUkraine and #NigeriansinUkraine mentions @UN @RedCross @UNESCO @wateraid @amnesty @gatesfoundation @FordFoundation @ActionAid @Oxfam on Twitter.

[softvanillas]

AOT and their college majors

one day i will write a college au series, but today is not that day. so here’s the prep for it.

Eren: Political Science (Minor in Criminal Justice maybe?)

when they have to do a practice debate, he wears this light gray suit and his hair is up in a bun

and for someone who barely puts any effort into his work, he dominates the room

when he and annie take the same classes, they’re always going head-to-head

those will be the only classes he puts all his effort into

Armin: Marine Biology Or English

okay so i feel like marine biology is just a given. he loves traveling and exploring and all things aquatic animals

he would probably intern at a aquarium and wear the khaki get up

can tell every single fact about a specific species like that one guy on tiktok

BUT ENGLISH ARMIN maybe it’s because i’ve considered english but

he would go for his doctorate to become a professor

writes some top tier essays bruh and loves classic books

ARMIN IN GLASSES THE CIRCLE ONES AND HE WEARS LIGHT ACADEMIA AESTHETIC CLOTHES

Mikasa: Sociology, minor in Child and Family studies

she’s the sweetest

idk i just see her wanting to do social work to take care of people especially children in systems or such

takes classes very seriously and tends to overexert herself

prefers to study in her dorm, mostly with armin (sorry eren but he never gets any work done)

Jean: Finance OR Nursing

i’ve considered finance simply because he would mansplain everything whenever he got the chance

oh you don’t know what crypto is? don’t worry your little pea-brain, honey. i got you.

but i do see him majoring in nursing because male nurses get it on

not really tho. he tries to pick up the girls in his classes but they’re obviously too caught up in studying and working towards their own goals

JEAN IN SCRUBS

definitely vomits on the first day of clinicals

Connie: Architecture

tbh i don’t know but i could see him with some blue prints

i actually don’t know much about architecture i just think he would work very hard and do very well

pencil behind the ear kind of thing

is always sketching and getting tips and ideas from jean

has a pinterest board

Sasha: Agriculture conc. Animal Medicine

you thought food science? too obvious

i could see sasha wanting to be a vet

she grew up on a farm back in her small town, waking up at the crack of dawn everyday to feed the animals

would make her family very proud, which she craves

sasha in a white coat and scrubs! hair up in a ponytail!

people tend to doubt her work ethic but i don’t think she gets enough credit for how much effort she puts in. yea she doesn’t really make the best grades in her classes but she gets praised by teachers a lot for how much she obviously cares

wants to open a clinic in her town one day :”)

Historia: Pre-law

i think she would be absolutely badass

she met eren in one of their shared classes and offers to help him out alot

he denied at first but after the first test he desperately needed help

will definitely become crazy good and top in the class and whatnot. she slaughters in the courtrooms and practices.

lives in one of those “day in my life” videos where she wakes up at 5AM, eats breakfast, meditates, stretches, studies, goes to classes, studies again, works out, and lives that aesthetic life

i’m jealous but whatever

Ymir: Barber school

usually can be found cutting connie and jean’s hair

she doesn’t go to the university but can always be found in historia’s classes and eating in the cafeteria

when men deny her service for “being a woman” she proves them wrong with her sick ass instagram page

honestly she could do some tattoos too, maybe on the side tho…. might not end up too well though

Marco: English or Piano

OK IM TORN BC HE PROB HAS THE PRETTIEST PIANO HANDS

would def be a great pianist with great musicality omg

writes music about his friends </3

but english because literature

he always has like 3 books in his bag and loves to edit people’s papers

would probably become a writer or editor for a big company

maybe even journalism??? hmmm

Reiner: Mechanical Engineering

he’s one of those STEM fuckers

i don’t know much about engineering i just know that it’s hard and it’s math and i hate that

can be seen running around campus to get to class, biting off more than he can chew his freshman year

always has bags under his eyes poor baby

doesn’t wear a booksack. absolutely raw dogs it everyday and just carrie’s his shit

athletic clothing everyday. never anything different. at a party? joggers. a fancy dinner with friends? nike sweatshirt.

Bertholdt: Computer Science

HE

once again it’s hard and has math and idc for it but HE WOULD

loves everything about it, is very passionate, would explain coding if anyone ever asked

can be found carrying his stuff in a canvas tote, with a button up shirt and some flattened trousers

he wears them men shoes. the fancy ones. y’all know the ones. maybe not but figure it out

builds PCs with ease. has every step memorized and if you ever have any questions he will be the best person to go to

Annie: Criminal Justice minor in Applied Forensics

she would probably become a private detective or something along those lines

does really well in her forensics classes which is like ?? damn bae u good

when classes show dead bodies she doesn’t even flinch no matter how gruesome

gets a job offer immediately out of college, which can be strange for a criminal justice major. she ends up working in a forensic lab and on scenes.

im jealous of u bae