Morning everyone! Thought I'd post this before I do my last day of work before a few days annual leave. Hope you enjoy it, just as a warning there is some very non-consensual sex and heavy drug use in this chapter

There are numerous cons to sleeping with people for money but as far as it has gone for Armin he hasn't had to deal with the worst it could possibly get. Well... he hasn't had to deal with it yet. When he first started he knew to was only a matter of time before someone tried to force him into something. He also knows that if that was the case, there isn't a whole lot he can do to fight back, especially not if the other person is bigger than him.

This man's name is Mike. He is tall, with floppy flaxen hair and a small goatee to match. He doesn't say much so he closes the door behind him, just surveys Armin, dull eyes boring into him. Armin feels like he wants to retreat inside himself again – this guy gives off the same kind of vibe that Erwin does and it's unsettling – but he forces himself to smile.

"Hi I'm Azure," he says. "What can I–"

He's cut off as Mike strides over to him, roughly grabs him and spins him so that his back is pressed up against a hard chest. Armin tries to be pliant, just like Erwin said he has to be, but he stiffens as a hand reaches up to close around his throat. No one has ever done this before and this is a whole new level of not okay. If he wanted this Erwin should have told me beforehand... The hand tightens slightly and it becomes difficult to breathe. Armin can hear his own ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart, louder than anything else in the room.

Armin feels Mike's breath brush passed his ear and he bites his lip to stop himself from making a sound. He hears Mike inhale deeply, smelling him, and Armin has to suppress a shudder. This is already weirder than he would like. The vibe this man gives off and the fact that he hasn't said anything – Armin only knows he name because Erwin told him – is only making him feel more uncomfortable.

Still without saying a word Mike's knee hits the back of Armin's and he shoves him to the floor. A fist in Armin's hair shoves him face down, hard, against the cold, grimy floor while Mike's other hand grips his hips and pulls them back so that his backside is in the air. This isn't the first time Armin has been face down, ass up but this guy's unrelenting grip is painful. He doesn't want this, less so than any of the other times he has to fuck someone for money, this is not how he wants it. At least during other times he has the semblance of control. He tries to struggle against Mike's hold but that only causes his grip to tighten.

His heart starts fluttering in his chest and he tries to throw Mike off but he is much bigger than Armin is and he can't even get him to release his hair. Mike's hand lets go of his hip before it comes down, forcefully, on Armin's backside. Immediately Armin stops struggling, waiting for the possibility of another blow.

"You're mine for the night," Mike says, his voice sending a tremor of fear down Armin's spine. "Do you understand?"

"I..."

"I said do you understand?" Mike hisses as he gives Armin's hair another harsh yank.

"Y... yes," Armin whimpers. His scalp stings and he's expecting another tug to his hair or a slap to his backside.

Mike smells his hair again and Armin really struggles not to shiver with revulsion. "Such a good little whore," Mike whispers.

Whore...

That's what I am.

Armin swallows the tears down before he can really think too much about that word. "Please..." He doesn't know what he's pleading for but he wasn't this to stop.

"Now are you going to stop struggling?" Mike asks.

"I..."

Before he can finish Mike uses his grip on Armin's hair to pull him back in order to hiss in his ear.

"Just so you know Erwin Smith is a close personal friend of mine so if you want to keep your job you'll do what I tell you."

Oh shit!

Armin hasn't ever thought about that possibility. Mike could easily go to Erwin and tell him that Armin fought him unprovoked and that's just Armin out of a job. Who is Erwin more likely to believe? Despite everything, despite how much he hates this and hates himself for doing it, he can't afford to loose this job. He grits his teeth and lowers his eyes to the floor in submission.

"Are you going to continue to be a good little whore for me or do I need to have a talk with Erwin?" Mike asks.

"No," Armin replies quietly. "I... I'll do as you say."

"Good."

Mike shoves Armin's head down onto the floor again, pressing his cheek against the cold ground. Once the hand leaves his hair Armin doesn't move. He closes his eyes and tries to block everything out as Mike tugs his boxers down so that they bunch around his knees. He gives Armin's backside another stinging slap but the only sound Armin makes is a tiny, muffled squeak. A deep chuckle from Mike meets his ears and it makes him sick to his stomach.

"Spread yourself open and keep your hands like that," Mike orders and Armin wordlessly complies. He reaches back and pulls his cheeks apart, pressing his upper body harder into the floor to ground himself. A hum of approval meets his ears along with a zip being pulled down and that sickness begins to spread through Armin's body. Just close your eyes and it will be over soon... hopefully...

He listens carefully as Mike pus a condom on and Armin waits to hear the sound of more lube but it never comes. Before he has a chance to protest the plug he had keeping himself open is yanked out of him. He hears Mike spit, presumable into his palm, and the brief sound of skin rubbing against skin before those harsh hands grip his hips. In one swift movement Mike pushes into him. It hurts. It hurts like fuck and Armin has to sink his teeth into his bottom lip to stop himself from screaming.

Mike begins to ram into him without mercy and, despite his earlier preparation it's so painful. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth, trying not to make a sound. The grip on his hips is likely to bruise and his hands are trembling as he holds himself open. He prays for it to be over. He wishes that it would just end but no one is coming to save him. The money for this had better be worth it...

A few more hard thrusts and Mike stills, reaching his peak and cumming. Armin keeps himself as still as he possibly can as Mike pulls out. There is another harsh slap to his backside and Armin can't stop the tiny whimper of pain.

"You were good enough," Mike says as he re-dresses himself. "I'll make sure you get paid and I won't tell Erwin about your earlier insolence."

Armin can't bring himself to say anything in response, he just stays exactly where he is until he hears Mike leave and the door close behind him.

Now that he's alone he slowly comes back to himself. Curling up in a ball on the floor he jams a fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Tears begin to pour down his face and he hates himself for letting things get this far, for ever agreeing to this in the first place. I need to do something... I need to make this go away...

It suddenly occurs to him that there is one way he can make it all end. He pushes himself to his feet, pulling his boxers back up and leaves the room. Casting a glance down the corridor he realises that he is alone and quickly makes his way over to Ymir's dressing room. Just take the edge off...

He knocks on the door. "Ymir?" he calls and knocks again. There seems to be no answer so he tries the door. It's blissfully open so he slips inside. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, aside from anything it could land Ymir in so much trouble, but he needs something to make himself stop feeling like he's dying.

He sees her bag instantly – it's gaudy, pink and hard to miss – and begins to route through it. It doesn't take long for him to find what he's looking for: five bags of that white powder. He knows he shouldn't be doing this but he takes the bags, leaving the room as it was and disappearing to his own dressing room. He locks the door behind him and sits down in front of his dressing table, perching on the edge of the chair.

With shaking hands he opens each of the bags, tipping the powder into five lines and, before he can over-think it, he closes one nostril and inhales the first line. He doesn't waste any time before inhaling the next and the next and the next until he's inhaled all five lines of cocaine in one fell swoop.

His head spins as he stares up at the ceiling. Sorry Ymir... He waits for a moment, just until the room stops spinning before he pushes himself to his feet before changing into his regular clothes. His movements are sluggish and his body feels heavy but he manages to dress and heave his bag onto his shoulder. He pulls his hood over his recognisable hair but no one bothers him as he leaves. He doesn't meet anyone and he's glad. He doesn't think he could handle a conversation right now.

The cold night air hits him like one of Mike's slaps and only serves to make him feel worse. Ymir told me this was supposed to make me feel better... maybe I took too much... He stumbles as he catches his foot on the kerb and the world lurches horribly. Turning the corner at the end of the street is disorientating and his vision begins to swim before him. I just want to get home, I just need to...

Before he knows what's happening he's flat on his back in the middle of the street staring up at the starless sky. Over the buzz starting to fill his ears he hears a woman scream but there's nothing he can do. He knows he should try to get back on his feet and get home but he can't seem to move his limbs. Nothing seems to want to work anymore and he doesn't try to stop his eyelids as they slip closed and everything fades to black.