Chapter Text
Armin is drooling; it leaks down the side of his mouth from Annie and his joined mouths. He came home only twenty minutes ago, but already his skin is smoldering and his clothes are off.
Flawless yellow threads dangle from Annie’s face as she rises to straddle his lap and hovers over him. She guides his thumping erection to her entrance and lowers herself. Armin gasps and Annie’s mouth drops; his mass opens her, strains, and pushes the limits of how he can fit in her small body. Her descent on him is swift, her body narrow from the position, the spot between her legs soaking heavily. Meanwhile, Armin’s brows furrow, leers at how he disappears inside this damp, gripping tube; it’s accepting, warm, and...
"Tight —" he blurts out.
Annie guides him deeper and exhales in shallow breaths like it's too much to take. She clenches up to sharpen the stretch, sighs when he yelps and shivers in her body. Armin presses back against the headrest of the bed, his arms digging into her lean waist as he angles up and digs into her. Each shove heightens Annie’s sense of being occupied, split; she bites her bottom lip. He scrapes against where she ends, and her body tenses, eager to secure more of him in — she needs more. Annie slides upward and his hips chase after in response, grinning when he grunts. Annie increases her speed, bobbing with a rhythm that tires her thighs & knees. He touches everything, each nook and cranny in narrow depths she keeps being shocked exists. She pants and smooths her hands over his shoulders; a stinging flare runs through her nerves where they touch, where she drags her teeth on his neck to taste his sweat.
"A-Annie, fuc-" he sputters.
Annie harshly gyrates on his lap, and he’s thirsty for every second she gives him. Every bump of her pelvis against his gets him so hard, his head could pop; now he’s going to explode at any minute. He lightly scratches his blunt nails down the inside of her leg so that Annie gasps at the combined sensation.
His skin is aflame while Annie slips up and slides down his cock. When she arches, her breasts bounce. Her pale skin is flush and her nails make crescents in his shoulders. He’s tired when he returns home; negotiating world peace is no easy task. But in the dark when he shuts the door, Annie is a silent tiger ready to pounce, and it fires up a beast that Armin didn’t know was hiding in him. The only thing left on him is his necktie and Annie yanks him by it, shoving another kiss onto his mouth. Their chins roll up and down, their rocking hips never ceasing. Annie has been topping more lately, and fuck, it’s nice. He throws his hips up and earns a high mewl from Annie and a harder slam of her pelvis on his. He grunts from the force of her downstroke and from how hard she’s anchored herself on his shoulders. Sometimes he wonders if he’s being used. But every time, he can’t find it in him to care.
Armin smirks through his panting, “Is this my punishment for coming home late?”
“I’d fuck myself and make you watch if I was that angry,” Annie breathes hard against his neck and adjusts her hips,” Ever think I’m just dying to fuck you?”
He lays his head back, pride whirling in him–that is always encouraging for him to hear. He slaps a defenseless butt-cheek, prompting a clipped sputter from Annie. Annie shoves him, but Armin keeps smirking.
“Quit your fondling and put your dick to work.”
He kneads one cheek–just to emphasize that he’ll do what he wants, but the rhythmic swallowing of her body draws him back into focus. He slips and slides in and out, shiny when he leaves, and widens her cunt when he’s fully in. He takes a firm hold and shoves himself in the molten suck of Annie’s body.
Her perspiring palms soak in his cut chest. Sharp fire cuts through her with every rut she throws down on his lap, working hard to leave him limping once she’s done with him. Once powerful and smooth thrusts become frantic stutters and Armin’s eyes are dilated and muddy; Annie smirks—he’s a paragon to the world, yet she renders him so helpless. The mattress creaks loudly and Armin thinks they’re fucking so loud, the sound is echoing through the entire house. Annie doesn’t like holding anything back, only likes going so hard that her hips are crunched by sweaty hands and she walks awkwardly the next day.
His face when they both peak is what Annie savors most.
His neck muscles flex and his teeth grit before he closes his eyes. Her muscles flutter around his swollen shaft and Armin holds her tightly, thrusting deep two final times with each bounce earning a sharp gasp from Annie—becoming higher, more urgent—then there’s a tight, knotting pain and a white flash of light. Her body shakes like explosions are setting off in every limb, the aftershock setting off a high so intoxicating, that her head spins. Armin joins her, his half-curtained eyes glassy. Curling over his body, Annie jolts and whimpers out over his shoulder. She leaks down his base with his scent filling her nose.
“Have I told you today that you’re gorgeous?” With dazed eyes, he smiles warmly at her. Armin slid a hand over her sides and stomach; he's memorized every crease and indent on defined, milky skin. “And I’d name off every bit which makes you amazing but… frankly there are too many.” A sharp hiss leaves her when he uses a death grip on a hip he still has hostage. “And yes that was lovey-dovey garbage and yes you have to listen to it.”
Annie snorts with a smile. His poetry gets annoying, but she isn’t against hearing all the ways he cares about her. He must get a good laugh when she attempts her own poetry on him.
His fingers rap against the small of her back, “I’ll be honest, Annie—I’m not entirely tired out.”
A weak scoff rings out of Annie, “And here I almost thought you were exhausted after a long day,” One grey-blue eye shows through her bangs, “Go on—take the lead.”
“Turn over, love,” his voice is sweet but serrated by his own need for her.
Annie doesn’t feel entirely complaint. She slips off him and his lap, but she cups his face and falls on her back to pull him in for a messy kiss. Armin’s jaw goes lax. Annie clutches his cock and he grunts into the kiss, his cock swelling more with her tight-fisted strokes from base to tip. She licks and sucks his lips until she’s satisfied. Before she can irritate him too much, her grip flees and she rolls onto her hands and knees, adjusting the pillow beneath her until her belly and hips are supported.
With the soft swells of her ass presented to him, his hand follows the curve of her spine down to a cheek, squeezing it before he spreads her thighs, holding them open as he kneels between. He lines up with the lip-lined crease of her cunt that’s never stopped being drenched. As he pushes the tip past her wet folds, he anchors himself on her small waistline. Annie’s soft, wet cunt gives way, enveloping him as he pushes inside fist-tight heat. Annie sighs, long and dreamy, pressing her face into the sheets of their bed. With steady pumps, Armin works into her snug channel until his pelvis is flush with her ass.
“Annie,” he groans. He clutches her pillowy rear to keep her steady as he eagerly thrusts in and out of her. Annie likes it hard and fast unless she signals him for something different, and right now, she pushes back on him, wanting it faster. He kisses a line down from her neck to her shoulder blades and watches her shiver.
“Armin,” she wiggles underneath him, her knees sliding out as she thrusts her rear back against his hips, desperate. Armin smiles; her weak whimpers incite a savagery that grips him by the balls, demanding him to fuck her harder. Wedging a hand under her hips, he reaches her clitoris. A gentle graze sends Annie twitching wildly underneath him, so Armin strokes it faintly, keeping her in a wetness that can take his brutal pounding.
“I’m working on it,” he rasps, already breathing hard. He sits back on his haunches and grabs her rear, spreading her cheeks so he could watch himself demolish her pink cunt. With the first hard thrust, she yelps, bracing herself on the bed; she’s still hyper-sensitive. As he moves inside her, Armin pants, skin dampening with perspiration again, his heart thundering in his rib cage. Their flesh claps together loudly, her ass taking the brunt of his thrusts; the wet sounds of his cock moving in her wakes up an animal depravity that coils in his gut.
Annie shudders and her mind is a blank slate, even as Armin keeps up a punishing rhythm. He’s aggressive and deadset to shove all of himself into her; it makes the dripping between Annie’s legs grow worse. Behind her, Armin’s grunting grows louder and louder from the effort, his hair sticking to his forehead, face red. Annie’s legs shake; her sighs are pathetically high. He plunges through her hole and fills her over and over, in and out, the walls of her cunt clenching around him almost like a mouth. She lets out a breathy whine, she arches even further, and curls her toes.
His balls pulled in tight, a warning blasting around in his body. With a snarling groan, he roughly slams into her once, twice, thrice more, before he finally jolts and bursts. Through the haze of his release, he bends over her and reaches down between her thighs to find her clit, pressing and rubbing it until she, too, jolts and releases. Her cunt squeezes around his cock as she peaks, and he shudders all over again. Annie muffles her pleased sounds into the bed, her face hidden in the pillows.
Sated, Armin pulls out and collapses beside her. He pulls her in until her back is flat against his chest. Her skin is dewy with sweat, and her slick, blond hair sticks to her neck and jaw. He relishes having her against him before she’d want to get up soon to wash the stickiness from her inner thighs; hopefully, he can join too. For now, he holds her, legs tucked against hers, and listening to her ragged breaths. His eyes grow heavy with peace and sleep.
“Armin,” she whispers. He hums in question, gently running his fingers along her belly. “Next time Jean tells you that you need to go abroad again, tell him to fuck off.”
Armin cackles. He wraps his other arm around her and presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, “I’ll have to–they’ve had me for six years now to put the pieces back together–Jean or Reiner can take the reigns sometimes,” his tone shifts into mocking, “I was only a few hours late tonight. Miss me that much? ”
“Naturally,” her hand strokes up and down his forearm, but there's a small tremble there, “I also found out…that what we talked about this morning is real.”
Armin’s eyebrows fly up his face. He sits up on one forearm, “You sure?”
He watches the back of her head nod, “Hitch helped me make sure…and it’s true.”
Fatigue isn’t a problem anymore; Armin’s wide awake now. His body shakes with nervousness, but mostly intrigue…and something else, something so warm that it tingles the back of his neck and the deepest parts of his chest.
Both his arms cross over Annie and he buries his face into the valley between her ear and shoulder, “First thing tomorrow, I’ll tell Jean and everyone else no more diplomatic trips abroad, not unless I can take you two.”