For the sake of future scenarios and this chapter, I'm changing this to M. But for those who are worried, don't as even though I'm a nsfw degenerate, I didn't feel too much detail fit the mood here but everyone's version of detailed is different so I put an [X] where it starts and ends for those who wish to skip over it. You can pick up easily from there.
I'd also like to gauge the audience's comfort level as this story has been T since being published and I don't want to scare away readers with sudden M material or have them think it will become the focus of the story—it will not. What these two are going through remains to be the focus. There are some areas where I'd like to be more detailed but I'd rather get your input as to how far I can go before I continue.
Let me know the tier you prefer based off the below as I flesh out future chapters ^_^
a) Mild - all the fluffies and kissy kissy goodness of vague descriptions. (:3)
b) Moderate - nothing too explicit pls but if you do at least make it cute (:D)
c) Major - Make it cute AND give me the details Kitty ffs (o_o)
He for sure didn't hear her question right. The drunkenness outside has contaminated the air somehow because he doesn't even believe he's here right now.
He had expected to explore Stohess and catch up with her more tomorrow like she said they would do, but now, Armin is looking at the inside of her messy room. His heart pounded when the lock on the door clicked and his gut writhed when Annie took a seat on the bottom bunk.
Then there's Annie's version of small talk. One blunt, tactless question which has him standing motionless in the middle of the room and staring down at her, stunned.
"Can...uh." He clears his throat twice and pulls at his neck collar. "Can you ask that question again? I don't think I heard it right."
Always the composed one, Annie repeats her words, this time more slowly, "Are you a virgin?"
His brain fizzles out like a dead flame and he's sure the heat radiating from his neck to his forehead could light up the entire city.
"Annie..." Armin struggles to comprehend how she could be so brazen with such a question. "That's not something you just ask someone…"
"Too late now. So, are you?"
The discomfited Scout squeaks the past three times he tries to answer. He settles for focusing his sweaty face at the wall, giving the stiff, faint motion of a nod.
"I had a feeling you were."
Well, that wasn't very nice. "Um...Okay."
Annie's blank expression doesn't flinch as she stares at him, her chin settled in her small palm when she asks, "Want to do it with me?"
You're dead. His brain blares. You are dead or asleep or lying drunk on the street because this is not happening and she did not just ask or tell you any of these things.
Armin rubs his forehead, trying to clear all the thoughts buzzing and colliding together in his head. "Annie, I don't know...what…?"
"Only you could be polite enough to turn down an offer of sex." Annie criticizes with newly crossed arms. "Honestly, you should be more sensitive to a girl's feelings when she proposes something so personal."
"I-I'm not turning down anything!" He defends, embarrassment shaking his words and searing his cheeks. "I only..."
His voice is stuck in his throat. Confused rationale clashes with a body boiling from something primal and Armin isn't sure which to side with, especially when this topic he pondered on many nights has come up so casually.
"The last time we got close to that, we both weren't right in the head." He brings up nervously. "And to just jump right back into the issue again...especially when we haven't seen each other in a while, when we haven't talked about everything else. Even your letter didn't say too much—it just invited me here and mentioned what we could do together. Why..."
"You leave soon." Her empty tone didn't hide the sadness behind her words, driving the scalding blade of guilt deeper into his chest. "You're only here for a day and then you're bound to go beyond the walls at some point, bound to do something stupid no doubt if what you were telling me earlier is how you truly feel. Beyond what both of us did, you haven't done anything." Annie stops. "I haven't done anything beyond that either. Why shouldn't we do it before you head out? It's not like there would be any attachments afterwards anyway."
After a set of quick blinks, groves form between Armin's brows. "...What do you mean there'd be no attachments?"
Annie shrugs. "We would just be 'living a little' or however the hell people put it when you need stress relief. There's no need for you to worry like you always do and be obligated to think there's anything between us when we're done either. Not like there was anything between us in the first place anyway."
There it was, a weight of frustration packed so heavily in his chest, his own spine could snap from the final straw falling over it.
To speak so callously of what he tried so hard to understand between them—to try and reach out to understand her—and to say there are no attachments, they never even existed; everything she's said is a contradiction of how he feels and he can't agree with what she's saying. Why would she…?
"Annie, why are you doing this?" His voice cracks with rising exasperation and confusion. "What even is this between us? And why meof all people? The last time you tried doing this, it was so spontaneous and unlike you. It was like you picked me because I happened to be there, because no one better came around. Annie, you kissed me and you aimed to do more before I stopped you. Why..." Desperate for answers with frustration clawing its way into his composure, Armin looks at Annie pleadingly. "Why did you do all of that?"
A blue snowstorm swirling in the small girl's eyes are stuck on the window. "It's not like we did anything serious." She dismisses irritatingly. "You denied my advances when I tried. Is that what you're going to do now?"
"No, I-." His shoulders slump. A deep breath inflates his chest before he exhales and straightens his posture. "I don't understand is all. I want to understand but every time I try...you don't let me. Sometimes I don't even know if you want me around. You even looked disgusted by me simply touching your shoulder or giving you gifts— you never even acknowledged them until I brought them up. Then, all of a sudden, you yanked on my shirt to make me stay that night at the pond, you get us alone and you kiss me, and you run away after each time instead of trying to talk to me. Now you're trying to do this again? Why?"
Pain and confusion unlike any other corrodes his insides as he waits, watches how in just a few seconds, Annie's stoic expression blends with emotions more fiery than apathy.
After an uncomfortable silence, she responds in a tight voice, "You make things too complicated. I did everything I did because I choose to. And after everything we'd seen... I thought kissing you would help me forget it."
"So...I was convenient? Or," His throat tightens and bitterness laces his next sentence. "You also did it because you pitied me from the night before the wall was attacked. You felt bad for knocking me off the log and calling me a worm. Just like how you feel bad for me now..."
Annie cracks her jaw. Her narrowed eyes dart to him then flee back to the wall, an action which he assumes is a passive yes to one of his options—if not both—and disappointment sinks his stomach.
"Of course, you don't understand anything I'm saying because you alwaysdo things to impose attachments, don't you?" In her eyes and words is aggression beyond anything he's ever heard or seen from Annie but Armin is too agitated to care; hearing her only has him balling his fists. "I bet you think that you're the only one left in our regiment who can think tactfully but you're wrong. You think I wouldn't catch your little traps of guilting or flattering me? Like you did with all the others when you were teaching them? Well I did—your manipulations don't work and you won't obligate me to anything. High ranking official? What a load of crap. Why are you so interested in what I become anyway? Is it to put me in your back pocket for later? Get into my good graces so you can ask me for a favor one day? You must really not like how I caught you burying that drug lord heap of shit, that you have sympathy for horrid people. What kind of message would that give to the public if that got out?" A bitter scoff hisses through her teeth. "And it's funny how you bring up those gifts because your ideas and where I found them were good, too good. How else would you have known what I like unless you've been watching me? Or do you just get your kicks out of getting into people's heads or by being creepy?"
It's the first time she's ever said so many words to him and Armin sees red from them, his palms hurting from how hard he's clenching his fists.
"Annie…" He starts, anger tremoring the voice he tries to keep level. "I taught the others because they asked and they were the most capable of our regiment—we need people like that to at least pass areas they struggle in if humanity can hope to get anywhere. And you're very forgetful because you started staring first. I only responded! And you never approached me about anything so how was I supposed to know there was a problem?!" A larger offense cuts deep into Armin's bones. "And I've been nothing but genuine to you, Annie. For three years I have. On everythingI've asked you about or done, it was because I wanted to know—to understand or make you feel better—not because I had some ulterior motive. Anyone with eyes and ears and cares enough can figure out what other people like, even if they never say it! I figured with how unbelievably smart you are, you'd know that already. Or are you just so paranoid that you still don't believe that I'm telling the truth?!"
A malicious smirk shivers the side of her lips. "Paranoid, huh?" She repeats in a tone both perfectly smooth and threatening. "I wouldn't say that for me but it suits you very well because rather than fret and stew in my own juices to ask a question, I just do it. It was funny to watch you writhe and worry over what I thought about your gifts though. Getting under your skin is a rare treat."
Armin feels a scowl coming on but he holds back. Instead, he allows a small, knowing smile to twitch the corner of his mouth too. "You're right. I was too timid and passive for my own good—I realize that now. But more importantly, I also have something which you'll find funny. That straw-hat you gave me is similar to the one I used to wear on our off days before some jerks in my barracks stole and shredded it. I never told you how important it was to me, only frequenters of my lunch table. And yet, you managed to find a hat which is almost a complete match to my grandfather's and put it in the forest, didn't you? To the one place where you knew I'd be alone."
Her tremoring sneer falters and drops.
A scoff which mimics Annie's past arrogant one rushes out of his mouth. "It looks to me like you were watching and listening just as much as I was."
"More like a lucky guess." She fires back. "You did ramble too much over your grandfather's gardening...and those dumb dandelions."
"...You really should leave the lying tactics to me, Annie. You're really bad at it and I don't believe you."
Annie's frown doesn't compare to the tension he sees collecting in her neck or in the hands tightening on her knees. He's easily lost his invitation here and his chance of exploring the town with her but he stands his ground on legs shaking from anger rather than fear. He's exhausted of kinder methods not working and if this is the way to get her to finally talk, fine.
"You're the stupidest brainiac I've ever met." She spits with venom and a hushed voice but Armin detects emotion thickening words. "Stupid and blind. Did you actually have some fantasy expectation that by doing all you did, something was going to come out of you trying to talk to or be around me? That there's anything positive which comes by attaching yourself to wretched people like me? Don't delude yourself. I'm out only for myself and I will keep being selfish so you can either get over it or get out if you can't take it!"
He's not a child anymore—insults don't phase him—but Armin is genuinely confused, extends to Annie the same raised eyebrow and head tilt she gives when she wants to be condescending. "What are you talking about? You're nowhere near anything wretched or selfish—I even doubt you're really out for yourself. Annie, y...you're the first time I've ever been left speechless on how to describe someone because there's just too much to say. Annie, you're wonderful."
"...Stop it." She warns chillingly.
"N-No! I'm not being deceitful—I'm being as genuine as I've always been—and I'll keep doing that now! Most people just tune out when I talk or listen out of politeness, but not you. You never did. You listened and asked me questions while others would just play along or walk away from me. You picked me up and pushed me and Eren down harder so we could rise stronger. You could have done nothing or let someone else save Connie or Jean but you didn't. You risked your own life! Annie, you're rough around the edges like everyone else but your selflessness and kindness in all of those times prove you're—."
"I said, stop it!" She exclaims in time with grabbing and smashing a bottle in the divide between them. Liquid spills into the wood cracks as Annie rigidly shakes her head. "Just…" Armin's chest rifts at how her eyes look watery and the side of her hand rests against her forehead, standing clawed and tight when she gasps, "Stop."
He's pushed her past a limit he didn't know she had and he does feel somewhat bad. Armin allows the pause to live for a small while before his pursuit of knowledge continues.
"All I want is an answer to at least one of my questions." He bargains softly. "Any of them. All this time we've spent together and it...it doesn't feel like something where there's no attachments. There are so many mysteries already—too much information missing which is driving me crazy—but I know there is something here. Annie, I make things weird, I'm an idiot, and I sound like a crazy fool spouting fairy tales when I talk about traveling beyond the walls—I know all of that—but this is a feeling I'm sure of."
Never is there a moment in his pleading where Annie looks him in the eye—the color simply drains from her face at every pass of a second as her head shakes relentlessly. She looks down into hands which tremor like someone with a severe case of the shakes.
"What do you want from me?" The words leave her in a breathless whisper.
Armin squints at her curiously. He's just made everything he wanted clear. How is she still confused?
"You're like a stain I can't wash off my hands or some tedious itch...and I can't ignore it. Every other feeling I can ignore but not this—it just gets worse when I try. I don't know what you did and I don't know how or when you did it, but you did something—you were sneaky in some way I couldn't anticipate. And damn it...I can't figure it out. I don't get it. What did you do to me?"
Armin was always sure Annie was wary of touch—purposefully kept away from others too—but he didn't know her fears ran this deep, how anything he has given or done for her all this time is alien to her understanding. This lack of basic needs leads him toward a suspicion of childhood abuse—or worse—and suddenly, Armin feels soul-dismembering regret toward yelling at her.
"If you're that distracted by it, then isn't that enough to suggest something is here then?" He tries to prove more gently. "The fact that what you're feeling is so strong? I feel the same way!"
"No." She refutes sharply. "And the fact that you're so adamant to prove that there is one makes me believe more that this is a even if for some dumb reason it wasn't a trick it—." Annie's forehead falls into one of her hands. After a long exhale, she murmurs, "All of it doesn't matter anymore…it doesn't matter because it's done and it's brought both of us to this point. I don't care about the past, just what happens next. Everyone here always gripes about frustration and sexual tension so if us fucking is what gets rid of the worst of what I'm feeling, fine. I just want to be rid of it—that's probably all this is between us anyway."
"So... you're not going to answer me then." He responds, audibly hurt. "And to say everything up to this point doesn't matter…to even want to get rid of it..."
"You don't need answers in order to do this with me." When she looks up, the turmoil brimming in her eyes has been capped and stored away; all the proof left of her past woes is a wet shine at the ends of her eyes. "I do things because I wantto, not because I'm chained to pity or stupid obligations. That's it. That's allthere is to me. And all you need to know is when I tried this last time, all that went around in my head is-."
Annie stops, her jaw visibly becoming tight. An uncomfortable hush comes over the room. "We're wasting energy and time talking as much as we are. How tonight ends is entirely your choice, Armin. I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to, especially if it's sleeping with a horrid person like me. I'll even grant you with knowing that you're possibly the most decent person I've met. All the more reason for me to understand if you say no. And to get you off my back, I'll also let you know this…"
When she stands up—slowly approaches him—Armin takes in a rattling breath. "Back then, when I got us both alone and I kissed you…" Butterflies beat an angry rhythm in his stomach when her body is close and lips he remembered being so silky-smooth draw closer. "Trost showed me how short life is…" She whispers so carefully, one must strain to hear. A lone finger drags down the seam of his button-down shirt, his heart thumping harder and harder. Annie utters "And that sometimes we have to take a leap…" before shooting up on her tiptoes and captures his lips with hers.
The beasts of desire and frustration has risen too high on his skin to keep down anymore and Armin fights back with a harder press. He keeps being surprised tonight as Annie's kiss is undeniably rough but there's a tenderness which wasn't here last time; Armin can tell this by how slow her mouth moves against his quick one, how her quivering hands take his face and allows a thumb to sluggishly trace his jawline.
"You're one to talk about manipulation…" Armin mutters in a daze. "You compliment me and now this. Is this another way of you trying to provoke me?"
Her hands flinch away from his face like she's been burned but they hover over his cheekbones, idling there like she doesn't know what to do with them.
"If you had the will-power to resist me when I was literally on top of you, damned if you don't have the strength to deny me now." She returns fire with a blizzard-blue glare. "I'm simply taking something before your stupid morals make you say no. It's still your choice. Neither of us have to say anything. You don't have to overthink or get hurt either. All we have to do is...be here." Her fingers fall on him again and as if her skin is a magnet, he pushes his cheek harder into her right hand and Annie's hold trembles even harder. She feeds him one more kiss and when her lips leave him, a conflicted whine-like noise leaves her. "...I still don't get it." She mutters, pained. "Even this isn't enough. Why…?"
The young soldier isn't sure he should be happy or alarmed by what she says so he keeps quiet. He places his forehead against her warm one, peaks a glimpse into complicated ice-lake depths and gets lost in her.
Annie is clear-headed and means what she says, Armin sees. Frustration festers in her as it does in him but the underlying constant he sees in her and feels in him is both of them want this. She leers up at him the entire time he inspects and the soft fondness in her eyes paired with a glint of mischief sends flesh-bump thrills along his skin.
This...isn't how he wanted this to have happened; he wishes he understood more or could tell her how he felt with a piece of jewelry or over dinner tomorrow but all he can concentrate on is how Annie isn't a splintered girl this time. She's coherent and admitted he has crept into her thoughts and feelings too; for what's left of his rational mind, it's enough. He forces down a gulp which feels like he's swallowing an orange.
[X]
Armin speeds down and seals his lips over hers. The first kiss is always chaste, has them rolling their jaws slowly and the pleasant, fuzzy haze creeps into his head again. His hands seek out her waist and he brings her in so close, their lower abdomens push together. The ache is back and shyness has him stumbling against her lips because he knows she can feel it but she doesn't push him away; she lets out a haughty exhale over his mouth and presses more into him which has Armin's fingers hooking deeper into her hips. In return, Annie tugs him down so hard, his neck feels like he's caught in a head lock and her kissing turns more savage but he fights back. Sweet kisses transform into a form of war and Armin's breath comes in harder, each spot of his flesh smoldering as they sigh and mix breath from every shifting head slant.
Annie then tugs him backwards by his belt loops, leading him to the bed until Armin is caged between the bottom-bunk mattress and her.
"To think you'd actually agree to do this with someone like me." She smirks cockily through heavy pants. She sits on him with her knees resting by his hips and when she undoes her bunched hair, yellow strands drop like a waterfall over her shoulders. "I admit, I'm shocked. But you do tend to be a fool."
Armin's head rolls on the pillow in replacement of a puzzled head tilt. "I don't see how I am when I want this too. And I've already told you that you're kind and wonderful, Annie. Are you so forgetful and negative that I'd need to remind you of that fact every day?"
Her hands stop working on the laces of her pants. Annie looks down on him, eyelids heavy and peeking through bangs of platinum yellow. "...And if you actually had that chance," He barely hears her whisper, "...if you could, would you?"
Armin's brows upturn. She looms over him like he's prey—pupils blown wide with lust stuck on him—but the stare she holds him with...it has affection he's only witnessed her link with her Father, except right now, her dilated eyes wonder and plead, beckoning a response from him. And maybe it's his imagination, but maybe what he sees is...
He leaps up from the bed and snatches her lips with his, "You'reway better at catching actors and bullshit than me, Annie." He parts to say and her eyelids screw shut when he kisses her again. "You tell me if I'm lying."
The girl who can see through the world's smoke and mirrors doesn't respond, she does something even better—when his lips leave her, the top row of her teeth show with her smile and she ducks her messy head, like Annie knows he is being honest and is shyly flattered. He grabs her chin and kisses her ten-times harder for it.
He flips and puts her back to the bed this time and the darkness of night consuming the windows hides most of the teenager's inexperience and clumsy movements. His hands learn as he goes just like his mind had to and it's just not Annie if there are no sharp criticisms of what he's doing or how he's doing it at first, but his reward is responses he's left wide-eyed from. His fingertips dragging over her bare stomach has the firm muscles jumping, her eyelids snap open and breath catches when he finally finds it, and the sounds she makes; they're hungry, needful noises when she has him focus on her chest and pleased sighs when his fingers study between a more sacred place.
Then warmth holds all of him and they tremble together from the shock. She's impossibly snug but every push brings something new, has Annie shifting from straining to adjust to snarling over his name to sounding near sobbing and one time isn't enough; she clings to him when she peaks and he still can't believe a cry so wavering and girlish has come from Annie. Pent-up energy built over years has him going again and Annie doesn't argue, but like always, she tries to provoke him, scrapes her nails where she can or questions how far he can go. He should probably feel bad but he wants payback and he's proud of how he can shut her up through a sharp dive of his hips, cuts her off when she tries taunting him and leaves her hissing instead.
Only until the entire room transforms into a sauna and the bright gleam of dawn spills along the floorboards is when practice sets in and so does exhaustion. But even as both are still tired and boneless after a nap, Annie's husky voice plumes against his ear, "My roommate isn't back until early tomorrow morning," and the revelation grants the two access into untapped reserves, more energy to savor every second before their worlds split again.
[X]
After everything, Armin feels a not-unwelcome innocence has melted away and as Annie recovers on his chest—his arms keeping her pressed to him under sheets they had forgotten about until just now—he wishes now more than ever that he could freeze time. Annie's expression is relaxed from post-bliss and when she snuggles into his shoulder—her sweat-matted hair tickling him and has him caving in resting his head against hers—he realizes just how deeply he's entranced by her. He wants to tell her that.
His tongue is a giant wad of gum to work around in his mouth but he finally opens up with a tired, "Annie…"
A small hand falls over his mouth. Annie's hold is gentle and he feels her forehead resting against him shake. The muscles in his neck shiver when a pillow-soft peck presses on his pulse—makes a home there for longer than he expects—then a voice sounding lost in dreams mumbles tiredly:
"I missed you too, Armin."
Full disclosure, I do have an E rated version of this chapter in mind but I plan for it to be written when this story concludes so it will be completely optional for those who wish to skip over it and gives me much more time to develop. Nsfw content—especially first timers—take a long time for me to structure so the more time I have, the better.
Salem's interlude( watch?v=12gtrUg1uz8) & Motion /P1tI4VFMRmE?t=45 helped a lot with crafting this chapter. Khalid and R&B has a way of setting the mood.o_o