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MASTERPIECE - ARMIN ARLERT X READER

Warnings : this is set after the timeskip of course, not specified if this is canonverse or modern AU, handjob, almost-blowjob, cum swallowing, sub!Armin, dom!reader, implied overstimulation, implied edging and orgasm denial, Armin is kinda loud, one mention of blood, implied dacryphilia, Armin has a praise kink, very very light bondage, begging, implied corruption kink, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut, but they're in love lmao

Word count : 0.9K words

Synopsis : Nothing was ever more pleasing than the sight of a needy Armin Arlert being repeatedly brought to the edge.

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Masterlist

"F-fuck."

A stuttered curse, breathed into the heat of the room, blond head thrown back in tandem with the word and looking statuesque as he did---he looked like a painting of perfection, one that I'd painted in my own colors. Crystalline eyes welled with tears, almost heartwrenchingly beautiful as the smell of copper permeated the air, lips stained with rustic red as pearly white teeth snagged on a plump lower lip.

He was nothing short of ethereal; breathtaking in every angle of his chin, every involuntary jerk of his hips. Armin Arlert was reduced to putty in my hands, and yet he somehow resembled an angel even Michelangelo would revere and envy.

Panting and huffing, he writhed, weeping cock pulsing in my hand, almost adorably eager as his bound hands struggled against the fabric of the silken tie. Seeing him so desperate and begging for more without actually saying the words pulled a smirk onto my face, one that only grew wider as he leaked more precum into my fist as I pumped his cock, his veins pulsating against my palm.

"Look at you, such a pretty boy," I murmured, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his tip, reveling in the way he whined at the contact of my lips to his sensitive head, "Really, you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen, baby."

Armin groaned, "P-please. Can't hold back much longer. 'S been an hour," almost as though his muscles were remembering the sixty long minutes of torturous edging I'd put him through, his thighs trembled as his hands tried---and failed---to seek purchase in my hair; to bring me down to his aching cock.

But really, how was I to blame, when his face when nearing the edge was so captivating that it was almost otherworldly? When his sweet voice sang of how good I was making him feel, how close he was to cumming, how much he wanted me to use him? He was the epitome of eroticism in its most beautiful form, and I couldn't resist toying with him like that when he was right in the palm of my hand---quite literally too.

Pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat and a sensual red blush, Armin's chest heaved with every moan that escaped his swollen lips. My hand tightening as I picked up the pace, urging the most melodious sounds out of him, I couldn't help myself and found my lips trailing delicate kisses from his base to his hipbone and back again, tracing an invisible line only I could see. Pride filled me at the knowledge that only I could bring him to a state of ruin like this; that he was all mine to devour completely and leave a wanton mess every single time.

"I think you deserve to cum," I whispered, knowing that I was lightly tickling him as he shivered, abdominal muscles taut as I peppered more kisses, "You're rather responsive today, huh?"

With a fervent nod, his eyes glazed over, no longer thinking nor speaking coherently. His tongue just lolled out of his mouth, panting as he drooled with no self-awareness or restraint. Lost in the haze of pleasure as I fisted his angry red cock even faster, he could only whimper my name half-heartedly, hands close to ripping their ties from behind his back. I only barely had time to wrap my lips around his tip before he was jerking up into my mouth, the warmth no doubt sending him hurtling over the edge with a garbled whine and uncontrollable sobs as I swallowed the thick ropes of cum that seemed endless, hips completely raised as he arched his back off the bed in a sight that could only be described as pornographic.

Such an innocent boy, and yet such a filthy sight he was when he was in my bind. Pulling back as I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, I watched the way he came down from his dizzying high like a predator would watch its prey. And really, even as he laid on his side, hands still tied and wrists red from the effort of tugging against their hold, eyes fluttering shut as he curled into the mattress, soft hair fanning out underneath his head, I still felt the overwhelming hunger rise at the sight of him.

But I had to hold back, knowing that my beautiful boy was probably beyond spent, and I only ever wanted to make him feel good---so good, in fact, that he'd collapse into an exhausted heap like that every single time I was done with him, cheeks tearstained and glowing rosy red with sex or the like.

Untying my lover's raw wrists and kissing them gently as his breathing evened out, I rubbed the skin, making sure that not a single mark of pain would ever last on his perfect skin.

"There we go," I mumbled finally, kissing his temple as he always liked me to do; even in his almost-unconscious state his lips curled up into a tired half-smile, and it took all the strength in me to stop at pulling up the bedsheets to his chest and doing nothing more lewd, "Sleep well, handsome."

Armin Arlert was my perfectly wrecked masterpiece, after all, and art could only ever be cherished and treasured.

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