Ch. 15
This chapter contains a spoiler from Chapter 125. It's nothing major or pertaining to the current plot position in the manga but it's a spoiler nonetheless, so beware.
I can't kick my old habits so please excuse me as I throw myself into the trash can again for the scene I should be ashamed to have written. ;C
[X] marks where M-rated content begins and ends.
A warmth centered on Armin's face flinches his eyelids. When he opens them, the sky of early afternoon shines through the bedroom window. He clenches his eyes to clear his vision and as Armin rises to peek at the clock, a weight holds him down. His chin declines.
Annie is asleep on his shoulder. The bedsheets come up to the middle of her arm and beneath them, he feels one of her legs curled around his. His eyes are wide open from amazement and in the same instant, Armin becomes shy and discomforted at noticing they are both still naked, but he doesn't move.
It wasn't a dream and by some miracle, Annie is still here. She rests soundly, her brows which quiver now and again narrowed—even in sleep, she seems discontent and the side of his mouth flinches up; it just wouldn't be Annie if a fighter like her was too relaxed when at her most vulnerable.
Armin is puzzled though. His heart thumped as rapidly as hummingbird wings whenever she was near. Now, as their close bodies trade heat, a steady rhythm is kept in his chest. He isn't sure how to explain it but the room and Annie look different now. He feels like a scrub brush has been taken to his brain—scraped and cleansed him of fears bogging down his mind—and for once, it's nice to lie in bed with no worries, to float and have a blank slate in his head. Maybe this is what was called the afterglow.
He notices his hand is on her waist and maybe it's because he's feeling a little more daring, Armin carefully runs his palm along her side, registering all the firm muscle along the way. Holding her like this is soothing, tranquil even, and he wants more, hesitates at first before finally reaching for it. The back of his hand brushes a slow, feather-light glide along Annie's cheek, down to the middle of her chin. She's always much softer than he imagined, her skin satin-smooth and flawless. His hand acts on its own, repeating his strokes, unable to tear himself away.
As he watches Annie sleep, there's a fuzzy bubbling in the back of his head. He sees light like he's emerging from a dark tunnel and he inhales sharply. His mind has unearthed something.
He sees again.
"I just wanted to see it…" His smaller self sniffled. Armin glanced back at the contraption which had stopped sputtering and whirring by his parents who rushed to shut it off. "You guys are always in here a-a-a-and I-I wanted..."
"We told you it isn't safe." Mother reminded him firmly. The sheets he had taken off are hurriedly put back on until the small boy and onlookers could no longer decipher what was below the covers. "You scared your Father and I to death. Imagine what could have happened to you if something went wrong?"
Armin clenched his hands tighter. He didn't like imposing concern even if it's on his own caring parents.
"Everything your Mother and I worked for will be shown to you one day." Father told him a little less sternly than Mother. "It isn't ready yet."
"But when it is...I'm afraid." He hiccupped, inching near a bigger meltdown. "What if you get lost? You'll be alone and the Titans will hurt you. H-How can Grandpa and I help if you're so far away?"
Armin stared down at his feet, his eyes burning with unshed tears but he held it all back—he didn't want to prove he's a weak cry baby who's too attached to his parents. There's a rustle next to him and when his sight lifted up, Mother is crouched at his side. The smooth details of her face are clear as day and eyebrows which he inherited are in worried, upside down crescents.
"We won't get lost, Armin." She assured him. "And we know what we're dealing with. We need to do these test runs so we're prepared on how to make a safe landfall. We'll travel more safely that way."
"That doesn't mean you'll come back home though…" He doubted, his lower lip wobbly. "That thing is big and people will notice it go over the walls. I don't...want to be left behind."
Mother collected his cheeks in hands hardened by welding and woodshop and raised his chin. A smile so warm graced her face and Armin wanted to break down there but he forced the tears back still. "My sweet Bumblebee. You won't be. Home is where my loved ones are—where you are. That's why we need to make sure the path is safe for you. For this to succeed, we need to make sure all the obstacles are gone so next time, you can come with us. Then all of us will be home again."
Mother wiped away one of his tears which had fallen. "Then I don't see why I can't help you…" He mumbled. "I can teach myself and fast too. I even assembled one of the components entirely on my own! I can show you!"
A large hand fell on his head. His neck swiveled around and eyes which matched the blue depths in Armin's own gazed down at him. "This contraption is still unstable and you're too important to join in this with us, son." His Father ruffled the young boy's hair. "We can stand to lose this hunk of junk, but not you."
"If you keep touching my face, you'll be able to recreate it in clay while blindfolded, Arlert." Annie mocks sleepily.
Armin stops and Annie's eyelids open, groggy ice peeking out through her messy bangs. A line of yellow rises on her forehead at spotting his hand so close by.
Armin smiles awkwardly but he counters with, "Maybe that was my intention and you just spoiled the surprise."
"Well it's getting annoying and your surprise is dumb." She retorts and slaps his hand away from her.
"Call it payback for trying to give me a limp." Armin responds, his inner thigh still shuddering a little from strain.
Annie harrumphs. "I didn't waste my time teaching you so you could get even weaker on me." She chastises. "And you weren't exactly gentle the whole time you were fucking me either. I'm sore too but you don't see me crying about it."
Armin rubs the bottom of his nose, embarrassed by his own memory and at how coarsely Annie describes sex. "I was gentle when it mattered. And last I checked, you told me to be rougher and you didn't exactly protest it…"
Annie snorts. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It still sounds like you need to train more."
If all of last night and this morning is Annie's definition of "training" then he will gladly take her advice.
Armin waits for when Annie pushes him off or tells him they need to clean up the room but the statement never comes. Both of their breathing is the only sound in the room for the longest time.
Annie tucks her face a smidge deeper into his shoulder. "Are you going to tell me what was bugging you?"
"Hm?"
Her eyelids fall to half-closed. "You cut yourself off while you were making your grand speech at the church. And right now, you seem to be thinking about something."
Armin adjusts himself on the bed, discomforted. "It's nothing important."
"Doesn't seem like it."
"Really, it's nothing." He insists. "I just remembered something is all."
"Which is?"
He's a little startled. He's not used to Annie being so insistent.
Armin turns his head to her and smiles lightly. "I don't want to be a nuisance, Annie. I'm fine—"
Her index finger and thumb pincer his nose and he nasally gasps, "Ow". She shakes his head side to side. "I'm not interested in hearing your bullshit. I'm better at catching liars, remember? Tell me the truth."
Armin is reduced to stunned silence from her demand. He sighs resignedly and rotates his head, examining the dark space between the wood boards above them.
"My parents were murdered by the government." He gets to the point quickly. Annie's head is knocked back but no words leave her parted mouth. "At least...that's what I believe. They worked on something in their workshop and forbade me from looking at it or touching it. I don't know how many times they field tested it, but one day...they just never came back. Grandpa never gave me a straight answer of who or why—I'm not even sure he knew—but...there was something in his eyes whenever the Military Police came around. Kids called me a heretic for simply talking about what's beyond the walls and the government outlawed research into it. I can imagine what other worse things are done to those who actually act on the desire to go out…"
Annie keeps up her standard routine: she says nothing and her face is vacant. Even so, Armin spots how her forehead is delicately wrinkled.
"They always had side projects, always pushed what the law said they couldn't do." He goes on. "I admired them for it—I think maybe I'd do the same if I were in their shoes—but at the same time...going after their dream took them from me. They didn't mean to but they knew the consequences. Sometimes, I can't help but feel bitter. They chose what they wanted instead of me. And I guess if I'm being selfish, I felt like I was…"
"Abandoned." Annie finishes in a whisper.
He looks to her, taken aback. "Right. Was it that obvious?"
Annie doesn't answer. Her sight is locked on him and a sadness he didn't mean to impose creeps into her eyes. He feels bad again.
He rubs the side of his neck nervously. "Or perhaps I'm being too hard on them. My parents meant well and they even told me they had to draft a path so I could go with them. It only makes sense considering Titans are roaming everywhere outside."
"...It's okay to be upset, you know."
Snowball-blue spheres are the softest they've been when being judgmental and Armin gulps on sight.
"But you're also right." He counters. "Sometimes the past doesn't matter anymore. What matters is I look forward and remember them as they were to me."
"That doesn't mean you should shut out what's happened either and you're the type that needs to let it out. So, why don't you do so now?"
"But really, I'm not—"
A dainty hand slaps over his mouth again. "Stop fighting me when I'm trying to make you feel better. You'll hurt my feelings."
Annie is only half-serious when she plays around but knowing so doesn't stop his heart from dipping. Armin can't look at her anymore and he rips his sight away.
Beneath the hurt of Grandpa dying, splinters he forgot lived in his heart pulse with pain again. He pushes through his swallow twice and Armin wishes he didn't sound so wounded when he whispers, "...I guess so much has happened, I kept pushing away how much their decision affected me. I love my parents and they loved me, but they chose their ambitions over me. And I wish they..."
He cuts himself off before scalding wetness pours down his cheeks. He takes in a labored breath and in the corner of his eye, Annie's face is apathetic per usual, but disks painted ice-blue are full of the most sympathy he's ever seen from her. She shimmies herself up on the bed so her head is higher than his and when she tugs on his shoulders to bring him onto his side, she guides his face to rest on her chest. To say he's shocked is an understatement and he's glad Annie can't see just how wide his eyes stretch out.
His yesterday-self would have fainted by now what with them being naked and his cheek is literally on top of one of her breasts but being this close to her feels natural. Annie's body is strong—pleasantly cushy and toasty against his own—and her fingers timidly slide up and down his nape, like she's trying to pet his unease away. In other moments when he is low, Armin appreciated words of fire from Eren to motivate him and cool encouragement from Mikasa of how he was okay, but he likes Annie's method way more: she just holds him because sometimes there isn't anything to say.
He kisses her clavicle as a thank you and the skin against his mouth flinches. Armin expects a snide comment but he keeps being taken by surprise: Annie holds him tighter and nuzzles the top of his head. He smiles at a new discovery: Annie likes cuddling and he's more than happy to oblige, surrounds her back with his arms. Armin feels a radiance as they breathe in unison and he's not sure if this burst of warmth is from just Annie or the sun setting in the window. He's being painfully corny with this next thought but he believes it sincerely: this must be how fireflies feel—to be luminous and warm even in the face of darkness. Annie emits a tiny sigh and Armin burrows his face into her chest.
"I love you." He blurts out.
Annie tenses and her movements stop. She's as stiff as he expected but she doesn't let him go.
"I thought I just liked you or was desperate to get to know you because I admired you so much." He continues when she says nothing. "But I see now that it's both...and more."
Her heart beating against his face picks up in speed but Annie's composure doesn't break. She remains quiet, still as the grave.
"That's how I feel and what I believed this was between us. That's what I was struggling to accept since I thought we should just be friends even though I really didn't want to be. I didn't understand why I felt this way or how it even happened, especially with how close and then distant we'd be. But now..." He rubs his cheek against velvety, light peach skin and croons, "I just love you, Annie."
The muscles in her back have become noticeably taut but Armin keeps hugging her through the rigid silence.
"...You say that," She mutters faintly. "But I wonder if that's your silver tongue working because you just want to have another go with me."
He turns his face to stare up at her. "Look me in the eye again and tell me I'm lying."'
She doesn't. Her muddied glare darts down to him then quickly flees to the other end of the room. Annie hrmphs. "You're sweet but you're still a boy and right now, I think you're too blissed out at having popped my cherry."
Armin grimaces. "... Annie, that was needlessly vulgar."
"Blame the person who taught me the phrase." She bats back. Her finger points at the top bunk and Armin sighs. Annie surely has an interesting roommate and he's not sure he wants to meet her.
"Anyway, that's how I feel." He gets back on track. "You're right. I bottle things up too much and I can't see straight from it...so I figured I'd just come out with it."
Annie becomes selectively mute again.
"...And what do you expect me to say?" She finally questions.
He mulls over her question for a moment.
"Nothing." He responds.
She shoves him back by his shoulders and frowns down at him, startled. "What?"
"I don't expect anything." He responds more happily than he probably should but he means it. "Don't get me wrong, I'd like a response but I see that I've been too pushy and timid and honestly...it's exhausting. I understand now it must have been just as exhausting for you too. I knew there was a reason why you're quiet and with what you said about not understanding what I feel, I assume you didn't get as much affection as I did when we were younger. Bunch all of what I did on top of that and... I must have really scared you."
Annie stares at him. A doubtful exhale ejects from her mouth and she rolls her eyes. "Oh for—is this your lead up to another speech on how you can rescue the fair maiden from her past woes?" She criticizes venomously. "That I'm so emotionally wounded and frail and you can help me by sweeping me off my feet? Give me a break."
"No." He answers soothingly. "All I wanted was to tell you how I feel. I always wanted to but I was too worried I'd scare you off like before and you just wouldn't talk to me again. But I'm glad I just fessed up. I feel better but I understand you want no attachments or maybe you need time to sort your thoughts. Either way, I get it. And Annie," The end of his lips rise softly. "You never needed my help with anything. I think you just need to be reminded of how special you are. I'd keep sending you letters to tell you just that."
And he would. He'd count every characteristic of her he finds wonderful and make it the single subject of every letter so he has a topic to write about every day. And under different circumstances, he'd keep sending letters even if she rode out to HQ and buried him under five feet of dirt in an unmarked forest grave to get him to stop; he wouldn't.
"Actually, you can start by stopping with those letters." Annie breathes exasperatedly and moves back from him. "My drawer is getting full and my roommate is pestering me about them."
"Then I'll stop."
Annie's head snap toward him is quick, her eyes wide enough to imply she's shocked.
He carries on his smile to her. "I've bugged you for too long and I bet it must have been really annoying. And now that you mention it, I can see how everything I did was kinda creepy…so, I'll stop. I'm sorry I made you so uncomfortable."
A scowl lacking full inspiration yanks down the side of Annie's mouth. "I only said all that because I was angry…"
"Doesn't make what you said any less true."
A pale-blue marble zips to him, looks away, then locks on to him again. "You're serious." She states rather than asks. "After all that grief you gave me last night and your little confession just now, you'd be willing to drop it all because I said I want no attachments?"
"Of course I am." He answers, a tad perplexed. "I'm not going to force on you something you don't want."
"You're pulling my leg."
"I'm not."
"You're serious?"
"I—yes. Annie, I'm not so sure how else you want me to tell you I'm serious..."
There's a brief wait time as Annie drills an incredulous look into him. Annie's lips part for a condescending noise then her mouth leaps up into a smile and she laughs. It's not one of her belittling snickers; Annie is genuinely amused with high-pitched chuckles coming from the bottom of her gut and all her teeth show. He's never seen her smile reach so high or heard the delicate soprano of her laugh and she looks so...
"Armin, that's literally the dumbest thing I've ever heard." She laughs wholeheartedly. "How does someone so smart waste their time wit— "
His lips crush against hers. Annie tenses from surprise but she doesn't pull back. His hands holding her face feel her go from stiff to unraveling until she's completely limp in his grip. He wants to smile but he doesn't—the complacent rolling of her jaw against his is all he needs.
Her mouth leaves his and circles of frigid ice affix to him. "You said I need time but I told you what I wanted already. What makes you so damn confident that I don't already have all this figured out?"
"Knowing you, you do." He brushes a few strands of hair covering her eyes. "All the more reason for me to leave you alone for once."
"...and why would you do that when you've come this far already?" She tests him with a sharper glare. "All of this sounds more like you've gotten what you wanted so it's easier for you to make up a story and toss a girl to the side."
"I'm not tossing you aside." He calmly disputes though his chest stings minorly in how Annie is still suspicious. "What's a way I can relate this whole thing to…" He taps his chin. "Think of us like Winter and Spring. You're snowed in by things and if you want to talk to me about them, the worst of it all will eventually melt like Spring does to Winter. I don't mind hearing you like you've heard me and I'd like to think that if you did feel the same way or if you wanted to...I could help you with what makes you so sad and angry. But," He laughs lightly. "Like humans and nature, that healing happens at a snail's pace."
"I can't tell if you're lecturing me on weather technicalities or reciting disgusting poetry from some preachy poet. Knock it off either way or I'll arrest you for pissing off an officer."
"Ah, disgusting, maybe! But it makes my point, right?" He grins in time with Annie's disagreeing lip purse. "Disgustingly good point it is then! Or disgustingly proven? Disgustingly achieved? Hmm...or maybe— "
Annie grabs his jaw so hard, her fingers dig into his cheeks and with a firm tug, her lips ram onto his.
When she pulls back, only the tamest threat of murder constricts her pupils this time. "Since you never shut your damn yap, I have to do it for you." She then mutters more to herself than him, "Like everything else."
"Now that doesn't have to be true." Armin runs his hands over the outside of her thigh, evoking a knee-jerk from her. "I learn pretty quick and I learned a lot last night."
"Ha." She taunts haughtily. "More like you just got lucky. What the hell can a wimp like youdo to me anyway?"
Annie's mock-scolding is chilling but there is channeled focus in her stare, one which is hanging a little too closely on his next word. Armin tries his best not to smirk.
"You're awfully interested in hearing what a stupid idiot has to offer." He judges with a caricature-like pout and eyebrow quirk. "Why the sudden change?"
"Even a broken clock is right twice. Maybe you finally learned something interesting." Her hand grabs and squeezes the underside of his jaw. "Now cough it up."
"Hmm..." Armin closes his eyes in deep thought, feigning being conflicted as his face is held hostage. "But telling you would obstruct the first rule of the Idiot Club: never share our magical secrets. This is a tough spot. Sorry, Annie…I don't think— "
A pillow shoves into his face. Armin flails and gags, certain Annie aimed well enough in having his mouth stuffed with pillow cover; he supposes the fun of getting under her skin has its consequences. She lets go and he jerks backward with a loud pleh while Annie scoots away from him, curling in on herself.
"You probably knew all those fondling tricks because of some filthy book." She mumbles with a faint huff. "Didn't you have anything better to do?"
"Is it really so surprising if I did?" He disputes with calm ease. "I'm surprised I'm getting complaints about it. Did you not like it?"
Annie's face is stone though her cheeks blaze with a hotter pinkish-red. "If you're looking for praise on something you finally did right, you won't find it from me."
That is the damned closest to a yes he's ever gotten from Annie and the young soldier guffaws loudly. Irritation crinkles the side of Annie's face and she tries smushing the pillow over his mouth again but Armin fends her off and what's weirder is he doesn't care that she gets two good pillow-slaps over his head in effort to shut him up. He's stuck in a stupor of giggling happiness of finally having everything out in the open, in having Annie by his side in spite of exposing how he feels. She's even given him the outcome he thought he'd never get: she hasn't run away.
Armin throws his arms around her and holds this person who is so precious to him tightly to his chest. Annie grumbles inaudible things—most likely curses—into his chest. Hugging her is like cuddling a fussy pet which prefers not to be held and she fidgets the entire way through it but he nuzzles the top of her head anyway and swiftly pecks her temple. To his pleasure, Annie shivers upon his lips landing on her and to his disappointment, it's what has Annie pulling away.
"Enough of this cuddly-wuddly crap." Annie waves off firmly though her face is adorably crimson. "My roommate will be back soon…but that doesn't mean we can't sneak in one more time."
"Really?" Pride laces Armin's cheery acknowledgement. "If I wasn't so dumb, I'd think you seemed eager to go at it again."
"I just like the idea of using a side-whore while I can." She puts him down with a straight face. "I guess I'm becoming a full-fledged MP after all."
"Only if I'm the main whore then." He kisses a spot on her neck which inspires a shudder from her. "I don't think the others will be as quick a learner as me."
"You'll have to work hard to convince me of that, brainiac." She taunts huskily, sneering. "There's a line and your clever words don't mean shit here."
"Roger that." He rasps as he closes in on her.
[X]
He slants his mouth over hers in a heated kiss. They start tame and slow, every kiss soft and savoring. Then Annie grabs the back of his head, molding their lips more fiercely and rolls her tongue over his bottom lip. He opens and damp velvet mingles with his. Armin's mind becomes waterlogged again and the buzz of excitement rings in his ears as their tongues mimic intercourse. Armin carefully rotates their bodies until Annie is on her back and he hovers over her. He kisses harder, sparingly twisting his tongue around hers.
"Mmph." Annie's muffled noise goes down his throat.
Armin retracts for air, their lips parting with a light smack, and he peers down at her through the triangles of his sweat-dampened bangs. Annie's hair fans out like a golden crown on her head and all the definition grooving her pale arms and dividing her abdomen are lined on her body with a marble carver's finesse.
And don't get him started on how perfect her legs are.
He dives down, pressing fierce, openmouthed kisses along her jawline, to her neck, her collarbones, swearing all the while how even through the texture of sweat, he can taste the forest berries from where she was raised in her pores. His traveling kisses cross the border to her chest, peck along the incline of a breast before latching onto one, pink nipple, his hand pinching and teasing the other.
A beautiful moan is pulled from her, both her hands tangling in his hair, holding him tighter to her. The hard nipple throbs between his lips and gently, rhythmically, he sucks.
Annie writhes immediately, her legs rubbing together in a search for relief and fuck, there must be different tiers for getting hard because hearing her weak whimpers has him throbbing like he's close to bursting. Her hands bury themselves in his bright, yellow locks, holding his head close to her breast as he sucks and toys with her. His lips move to suck her neglected breast while his hands slide over her sides, creeps them through the open space in the arch of her back, runs them down to her firm behind. He cups her buttocks—squeezes them—and Annie's ass is like the smoothest, softest rock he ever had the pleasure to knead.
"Stop screwing around." Annie growls but it's more of a desperate whine than her usual razor-edged bite. "If I'm not seeing stars from you fucking me in the next five seconds I swear, I won't forgive you."
Static excitement skitters along his limbs. He's dying to be inside her again and he's so hard it hurts but he's dealt with worse. What he's doing is pleasing her and Armin feels gratified in it, ventures to do even more.
"Almost." Armin assures her gravelly and his hands on her rear feel Annie twitch at a tone which surprises even him. "Just bear with me."
His fingertips skate down her muscled belly, down the curve of her hip, until he's between her legs and somehow, the sun is glowing inside him, burns him from the inside out on being near this place again. Armin is mesmerized at the slick dripping from her already, entranced because Annie's soaked and trembling over something he did. The tip of his finger peaks inside and glides along the sensitive seam hiding her core and she moans sharply. Annie bites her lip—trying too hard to deny or mask his effects—but the blaze of lust shines too brightly in her eyes. Armin knows what his fingers are capable of and now, he wants to add something new.
The breadcrumb trail of his affection kisses down her navel, then the inside of her thigh until Armin's head is between her legs and he hovers, trying to remember the right spot again. He parts her gently, kisses the top of her cleft where the nub he found is and eagerly, he sucks it. Annie lets out a hiccupped gasp and her leg jackknifes up. Her palm slamming on his forehead lifts him up to face her.
"What the hellwas that?" The baffled girl hisses.
"Uh...I was just trying something out." He answers sheepishly. "Did it hurt?"
Her red, perspiring forehead crinkles from thought. "No…I don't know. It's hard to explain."
Confusion radiates from her face and her hand resting on his head is steely but tremors slightly. His thumb strokes the inside of her thigh to ease her. "Sorry. I'll go easy next time."
Annie's pride resurfaces and yanks down her mouth. "I'm not a twig who can be snapped in two like you. Stop treating me like I am."
"I wouldn't dare." Armin obeys with a grin. "You being that way is why I love you so much."
Armin opens his mouth and his tongue drags along her swollen folds. Salt lines his taste buds and there's an immediate "Ngh…" and buck of hips from Annie. His finger slips into her and when he curls his digit inside her in time with his tongue lapping her clit, the resounding shout of his name fills the room. She pulses against his finger, wetter than anything he's ever encountered before and Armin gets to work on pleasing her again, dives his finger into her as he licks and sucks her swelled nub.
Above him, Annie is breathless, her pants heavy and quick through every stroke, her thighs moving and flexing against his cheeks. His hair is held tight in Annie's clutches and when she screams "Aah!" from a harder suck—tugs on his defenseless roots—satisfied goosebumps ripple along his flesh.
Always, he wants to observe the effects of what he's done. Her insides quiver hungrily against his finger, even more when he pushes in a second and the planes of Annie's body are glowing red like she's sun-burnt. Her silvery hair is matted and beneath thick, lashed eyelids is a heavy gaze which is focused on him, as well.
His tongue must have faltered during his observation because Annie bonks the top of his head. "Don't you dare stop!" She barks.
"Ow! Hey, I need that." Armin complains against her. He tries to rise but Annie holds his head where he is and fists a tuft of his hair.
"Damn it, just—. "A soft, needful sound which is almost a sob hitches in her throat. "I'm so close…"
Eager to please, Armin descends on her again and works harder. He thinks Annie needs pressure and speed to finish so he concentrates on her little nub, swirls the tip of his tongue around the swollen pleasure point at the top of her sex. Her thigh muscles tremble on either side of his head and Annie's pants and gasps become louder. His fingers feel abused at not being used, and as his suction on her intensifies, two fingers slither in damp tightness and pump hard.
Annie arches her back then lets loose a pained shriek. Her legs clench, every thread of muscle taut solid and everything tightens around Armin for a split second of pain. Warmth rushes over his hand and Annie's back sags back on the bed. He slows his tongue and fingers, her flesh quivering and hips bucking into him as she rocks through her orgasm. When she's completely spent, Armin wipes his face and rises.
"You sound cute when that happens." Armin grins childishly.
Annie's panting persists but her hand rises and she flips him the middle finger. Armin roars with high peals of laughter. He kisses above her navel as an apology.
She pushes herself up and runs her fingers through her disheveled, sun-bleached locks. "Just for that, you owe me something."
Her hand wraps around his solid shaft and when her grip tightens, Armin winces: she always grabs a bit too hard. He groans and his eyes shut as her hand works slow, firm strokes against his hot flesh.
She leans over and lustily repeats in his ear. "I told you that you have to work for the number one spot. Don't think this is any kind of help."
She's right. How slow she strokes him won't bring him close to peaking, only has his erection pulsing hungrily in her hand. He pays too much attention to how her thumb firmly and slowly travels up and down the underside of his cock and the feel of her on him paired with the eagerness in her eyes has him caving.
"Lay down." He pants.
Annie listens but she keeps his hardness in her hot clutches. She parts her legs wider and seeing the split of her body so puffy and slick—how she's presenting herself for him—has dizziness swimming in Armin's head. His mouth is dry and his senses enter a place beyond coherence.
He straddles her right leg before Annie can move off her side and throws her left leg around his waist. Annie looks to him, confused, until he nudges her entrance—a motion which has Annie biting her lip again and Armin can't help it—he throttles into her in one swift motion.
Annie's lashes flutter and chin tilts back. "Fuck, Arlert…"
Her wavering voice and the unforgiving squeeze of her body almost has him release right there but Armin resists, drops his chin and groans. He's so overcome by muggy heat, his body can't think about anything else except chasing after more and it makes him so much more thankful that Annie allows this. With her, he can give in to other instincts his other friends might scowl at him for. He clutches her hip and ass to pull out and slam into her.
Annie groans throatily. "Armin…" He bottoms out from another thrust and her chest heaves with a high, needy gasp. "Ah! Armin..."
His hips run on overdrive as he goes as hard and quick as he can, holding her so forcefully, the tips of his fingers turn white. Annie cries out and just when her pitch dies, an even stronger pleasured shout erupts from her. In the back of his head where coherence is dormant but murmuring, he wonders why he's rushing this, why he's risking being too rough.
Was he still mad at her for all she said the other night? Or is he going so hard because Annie prefers him to be rough? No…all of that is there, but it's not entirely the reason. It's that their time is shortening and he's wanted to tell her and undo her for so long, he's frantic to have her. Every rut into her has him clamped by strangling heat and for once, Annie is defenseless against him, whimpers little broken noises he's only heard from pleading, hungry pets.
At the same time he shoves in again, his thumb carefully rubs the swollen spot above where he penetrates. Annie's back dips and she yelps—Annie can actually yelp. Her leg around him tightens painfully and her nails grate down his pectorals but he doesn't care. He enjoys it when he takes her like this. He likes being gentle too, especially when the light catches her just right and he wants to prolong being close. But being rough has a different thrill—no wonder Annie likes it so much.
The hot irons of Annie's hands rub up and down his chest and Armin groans, grips her tighter, his thumb speeding up on where he thinks she needs it most. Annie bucks to his hip's rhythm, her flushed face twisting from agonized pleasure and watching her writhe and whine has Armin's end curling at the base of his spine, hot and alarming, but he fights it—he won't go until she does. As he dives deep, he recalls Annie gets bored quickly—he should change methods. His finger shifts to drawing quick circles over her clit and Annie wriggles below him, rolls her strong hips in time with his. There's a ripping sound from how tight Annie fists the bedsheets.
"God, Armin yes..." She chokes out helplessly, her foggy eyes tearing, and that's it, he can't hold back anymore. He thrusts faster, harder and fervently rubs the small hub of her pleasure faster until Annie's eyes blow wide and she releases a strangled scream. Armin gnashes his teeth, her body spasming around him but he pulls out quickly, returns back to how he acted on more shameful nights and pumps until the coiled spring in his gut releases and a flash blasts over his eyes, then he's as gone as her.
Both of them pant like runners coming back from a long sprint. Armin shuts his eyes as he breathes until the chime of white noise stops ringing in his ears. He doesn't want to open his eyes either, because he can already feel on his hand how he's made a mess.
A towel slaps his face. "Wipe yourself off, damn it." Annie scolds. "You've done a fine job of making my bed far from saving now." She combs her hands through her hair and winces as she moves her stiff legs. "Fuck. What the hell did you read anyway?"
He doesn't remember. Everything Armin did was him acting on whatever his body told him to do. Dry anatomy books, adult novels girls hid behind shelves in the library, and his own imagination was all he had to go off of. But based on Annie's vocal enthusiasm, he'd like to think his indirect "studies" paid off.
Armin regains his senses and becomes nervous he's lost his clothes in the hills of dirty laundry Annie and her roommate have about their room; they really should be tidier. And as for Annie's bedsheets...they really did have no chance of being saved. If there aren't rips and tears from where Annie gripped the sheets too tightly, there are stains from both of them.
[X]
As their breathing steadies and the heat in the room scales down, loud bangs drum on the wall next to them.
"If you two bitches are going keep boning at least be quiet about it!" The neighbor yells. "Some people are too hung over to deal with your shit!"
Armin inches backward from shy alarm and he feels a twinge of regret. The sting evaporates when he sees Annie's wolfish smirk.
"How's that?" She snickers. "You sound so girlish during sex that they think you're my roommate."
"I do not sound like a girl." He defends, maybe a tad too insistently.
"Depends on where I get you." She nips his chin and Armin twitches. "You do whine a lot."
"Maybe you just make so much noise that it sounds like there are two girls in here…" Armin mutters.
Annie snorts and shoves his head back. A surprised pitch leaves him when Annie flips them and she takes her place on top of him. Her dominant poise has her appearing like a queen staring down from her throne and enthusiasm zaps down Armin's spine, has his hands grabbing her hips.
She smirks smugly. "You're funny when you're testy." Annie leans down until she's centimeters from his face. "You better not stop being so entertaining."
"Excuse me," Armin pokes her firm, lower belly. "A request like that is a two-way street. All you have to do is say please."
"Shut up."
"Shut upppp?" He sings out to lead her into saying the magic word.
"No."
"Nooooo?"
Her hands slide over the grip he has on her shapely hips. "You have nice hands, Arlert. Don't make me break them. I'm not saying it."
"That would make me very sad because my broken hands would be the biggest inconvenience for you especially." He smiles, simultaneously genuine and playful. "You go quicker than I do when I use them on you. You wouldn't want to lose such a nice perk, would you?"
Annie bares the side of her teeth in threat but her face turns so red, the teasing boy thinks she could spontaneously combust. Inside his head, a more devilish side of him cackles but Armin maintains his sweet grin to convince her...for now.
With her attention aimed away, she snarls bitterly, "...please, goddamn you."
"Ah-ha! Now we're getting somewhere!" He cheers. "We made it through the first lesson!"
The powerful girl who he's enamored with shoves him down into the mattress so hard, it almost hurts but Armin keeps on grinning. "Shut up and pay up, Arlert."
He does and as they go at it again, the two ignore the next wave of pounding and demands for silence on the other side of the wall.
If anything, Annie makes sure she's even louder this time.
The once lively streets are quiet and dimly lit, the celebration's aftermath reduced to banners and masks discarded on the floor much like the passed-out partiers who snooze there. As they walk to the stables where his horse is kept, Armin rubs his hands over his clothes, ensuring the image of when he left is preserved before he heads back. Thankfully, nothing looks out of the ordinary and no one would ever know Annie tried to rip off his pants and shirt last night like he feared.
"One more question..." Annie begins. She leans against the threshold of the stable's opening while Armin walks toward his horse. "After everything you've told me—your gripes and your…feelings—, how can you just roll over and easily accept that I don't want the same thing? You pestered me for years. I'd expect most boys to be furious."
"I already told you I'm not going to push you into something you don't want, Annie..." Armin reiterates gently. "All I wanted was to tell you how I feel."
Her fingers tap against the forearm of her crossed arms. Her next question has her voice low and tense, "...And say hell froze over and I was as braindead as you to actually reciprocate how you feel. What makes you think we'll even do well together? You're weak, you bug me, and you talk too much."
His heart leaps with a sudden hope but Armin finds he is getting better at controlling his expectations.
"Honestly...I don't know, Annie." He answers truthfully. "I'd like to say some of the bad people see in each other can be overcome by the good when they're together...but maybe that's me being too optimistic. All I know is I can't decide for you and I need to give you space regardless of if you're conflicted or not. And if hell has frozen over and you're still deciding…then when you're ready—when you think you have everything you need figured out or set up to be tackled—you know where I'll be."
There's a slow, hard roll of Annie's eyes. "The 'I'll wait for you' trope is unoriginal and pathetic."
"And I'm doing it anyway." Armin smiles brightly. "You always were great at dealing with things which annoy you, so I know you'll do great in managing this one well too!"
"Smartass."
"Hm?" Armin combats innocently. "How so? I'm just motivating you."
"Quiet." She glares but Annie hasn't kept eye contact with him for long and moves to drill frustration into his poor horse instead. She pushes her hair over her ear and her focused spheres fly to Armin again. "When is the next time you're in Trost?"
Armin looks up from petting his horse's mane. "Uh...I'm not sure. Probably when we come in for supplies but it's mostly at random when we—."
"Then send me a letter when you do find out." She interrupts. "We have our own private headquarters in each district. If you tell me in advance, I can set myself up for a training or whatever other bullshit the MPs use to travel to other cities. I'll tell you where we'll meet."
The young soldier's smile rises a little higher. "If that's what you want."
"Would I even bother telling you if it wasn't?" Annie snaps.
"No, you wouldn't." He laughs to himself. "I just wanted to make sure is all."
"Ugh." Annie huffs beneath her breath but Armin takes no offense. "Your coddling is beyond annoying so cut it out."
"It's not coddling, just me trying to keep my manners. I could teach those to you too, Annie, since you really need them."
A hard slap to his shoulder and a growl of "Shut it before I give you a fat lip" is the reply he gets but Armin chuckles gleefully. Getting under her skin is quickly becoming a bad habit.
Annie's anger withers away as he guides his horse out of its pen and there's a sudden quivering of her pupils. "Which route are you taking?"
Armin ponders the question. "Same one I took to get here: the gates nearby the farming hubs. It makes the travel time from here back to HQ much quicker."
"No." Annie refuses his plan. "There's been a lot of bandit sightings there and crime has been getting worse all over the other districts at night. I'll take you to another gate." With a twist of her foot, the MP's stallion on her back faces him. "Follow me."
She knows what's best as this is her city so Armin complies.
As they walk the empty streets with his horse in tow, Armin summarizes in his head how he is going to get his story to take flight if asked about his travels. This thriving in underground activity is a good scapegoat for Armin claiming he was helping the Garrison investigate cold cases—he can be nosy, after all. Should he be pressed by higher officials for specifics, he's not above pinning the responsibility to record the forgotten and undocumented details of his visit on officials he knows who get so notoriously drunk, they hardly remember their own names. Honestly, it would be such a shameful display of incompetence and lack of basic protocol practice from public workers, his superiors would see. Armin takes a peek under his collar and warmth prickles the space under his eyes.
He's going to have a tough time explaining why his chest and back are covered in so many scratch marks though...
Fire whips within torches resting on the sides of a lazily guarded gate. They walk past officers playing cards and with one glance at seeing Annie's emblem of the Military Police, the men turn back around and both he and Annie become invisible to them. Armin hops up on his horse as Annie motions for the gate to open.
"This is the safest route and it also puts on display how cripplingly oafish the MPs are." Annie observes as her fellows smoke and guffaw. "How ironic."
"Glad I'm with a hard-working outlier then." Armin beams down at her.
"Your sweet talk won't get you anywhere." She reinforces.
"Not sweet talk. Just the truth."
Annie pulls her lips to the right in disagreement but those ponds storing many shades of blue tell him Annie is far from genuinely upset. As the gate rumbles from activity and opens with a loud, grating creak, Armin holds the reigns of his horse tightly.
"Thanks for the help, Annie." He fills the quiet void. "I'll see you soon."
To not waste time, he kicks to motivate the horse and his stead speeds forward. As the frozen wind of night flows over his face and he dares look back, Armin's grin tugs higher.
Annie isn't staring at him from a hidden side glance like she did for so long. As he rides away, Annie's body is faced toward him and she stares right at him until both he and her are out of sight.
As usual, Annie is already in bed by the time Hitch returns. She stores away her goods stolen from her escapades in her personal closet, uncaring if it's loud because Annie manages to sleep through violently noisy thunderstorms. How that girl still manages to have bags under her eyes with that deep a sleep boggles Hitch's mind.
Hitch dons her pajamas and places the bottle of perfume which she "conveniently" had an extra bottle of on her roommate's desk; maybe, just maybe, the short girl can pick up on what floral smells are meant to be used for. She stretches and readies herself for bed then stops.
Her nose bounces from smelling something, a scent which wasn't here last time. Hitch twists her torso side to side again, more closely examining the room. Other than the dry stain on the floor where the tiny klutz probably dropped a bottle and an odd devil mask, nothing is amiss. Hitch scans her roommate's bedsheets, finds they are just as wrinkly and standard as they were before…or were they? They do look a bit crisper, possibly changed recently.
A loud snort whistles through Hitch's nose.
No way. She mocks in her head. Annie's too stubborn to actually listen to my advice.
She ignores it and hops into bed.
Wow. I just realized I posted this story about a year ago now. O_o I'm glad I went at this pace, but still, to those who have stuck with this through the slow build up, I give you all the lovies. ;~;
Soundtrack:
Ahead of the Road – Yutaka Yamada
Blood Oath - Benjamin Wallfish
Beverly - Benjamin Wallfish
