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What one's entitled to

Summary:

The door gave in with some effort, but still too fast. Like it was trying to stop Eren from doing what he knew he must, but couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort. He threw one last look at the guard, eyeing him up and down. He was the type Eren hated the most: who would turn a blind eye to senseless cruelty for no reason other than an order. He was the type he needed the most in this moment.

or: post table scene, Eren needs to make sure Armin will hate him enough to survive
and maybe take something for himself while he's at it

Notes:

i cranked this up so fast like my fingers were on cocaine
hope y'all enjoy it

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

                Armin’s wounds were almost healed when Gabi decided to speak up.

                “What will Eren Jaeger do to us?” She whimpered from the other side of the corridor. She was in a different cell, sitting uncomfortably on the prison cot. Armin had laid down on his, bones aching from the previous beating. Eren had all but knocked him out, breaking everything he could, to convince Armin to… what? that he was evil? That they should join him?

                “I don’t know.” he sighed eventually.

                “I killed his friend.” and many others remained unsaid, and Armin’s heart pinged at the memory of Sasha. It was a dull pain, similar to his grandfather and to anyone he’s lost so far, and he didn’t know if it was good or not. The mind was prone to protect the user, but Armin was starting to see some severe flaws into the design.

                “He hasn’t killed you yet. And honestly, Eren has bigger priorities.” Some distant part of him wanted to lie to her that everything will be okay. It was dead and distant, saved for children with the privilege to believe it. “If you’re going to die, it will be either an accident or far enough away it’s not a concern.”

                The girl sniffled – Armin couldn’t remember the last time pain brought him to tears. Sometimes in the past four years, his heart rang hollow, with no tears left to pour. He should say something, encourage her. She was a kid.

                A terribly misguided, brainwashed kid, who had done come horrible things. But at the same time, who were they to criticise it? Eren had done worse – attacked her hometown, like Berthold had done Shiganshina – and could only feel the similar pang of regret at the inevitability.

                “Are you… are you okay?”

                That surprised Armin, blinking him out of his meditation. “huh?”

                “I know you’re a Titan, but Eren hurt you pretty good. And the… the steam stopped.”

                Eren sat up. “I’m only a little sore” he managed a smile. At least the Colossal healed fast, for how useless it was in anything that was not a massacre. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, more for her benefit but his. “Are you okay? Did that knife nick you?”

                She collapsed a little into herself. “I’m fine.”

                “You could get sepsis.” Armin said, voice flat. “If you have any open wounds, try to clean them now. We can ask for water later.”

                “Where are the others? Why did they separate us?”

                “So we can’t plan an escape.” Armin sighed. “I don’t know where Mikasa is. I hope she’s all right.” he wasn’t as much worried for her physical safety as much as he was worried for her emotional one, and what else Eren could tell her while Armin wasn’t there to dispel it.

                There was the creack of the heavy dungeon door and then Eren’s familiar steps down the stairs.

~O~

                The door gave in with some effort, but still too fast. Like it was trying to stop Eren from doing what he knew he must, but couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort. He threw one last look at the guard, eyeing him up and down. He was the type Eren hated the most: who would turn a blind eye to senseless cruelty for no reason other than an order. He was the type he needed the most in this moment.

                “Make sure no one will bother us” Eren spoke, because he didn’t know if he could bring himself to act a second time. The guard nodded. “Do not attempt to listen.” another nod, probably a lie.

                Eren walked in either way.

                The girl retreated to the shadows of her cell, but Eren paid her no mind. She didn’t matter. He didn’t know why the guards put her here, but it wasn’t going to be an impediment. Who knows, maybe she’d help Armin after. Something for them to bond over.

                Armin was laid on his side on the bed, breathing evenly. He was facing the wall, and something akin to amusement rose into Eren’s throat.

                “Hiding, Armin?” he asked, voice echoing on the walls. “You really think you can ignore me?”

                “Are you going to say something of value?” The sass snapped through, even with his hands cuffed.

                “I didn’t exactly come here to talk.”

                Armin finally deigned to meet his eyes. “Then why?”

                He'd realized late, his feelings that is. Eren had always had big negative feelings, like anger and fear and guilt, and they tended to take up a lot of space in his head.

The positive, the good, small feelings were buried deep, and it took till way too late for him to notice them.

It came on a drunken night. Someone had asked them what they would do after the war was won, where there would be no more titans or enemies to fight. Someone had jokingly asked Mikasa if he'd get a chance at her hand once it was all over, and Eren had internally scoffed. Mikasa would stay with him. She'd been with him all the time, she'd keep being with him when all of this was over.

But Mikasa had only rolled her eyes and didn't deny it, and that had created a huge pit in his stomach.

Then, someone had suggested they'd rather marry Armin, “equally pretty to look at, better for conversations" and had gotten a square, forceless hit in the sternum from said Armin, saying something like " Like you could ever keep up "

That had been the day Eren realised he loved them. They were his. They had started all of this together. There was no way they wouldn't be his when this was over. They would stay his for the rest of their lives, because Eren had has so many things taken from him, he’d learned to sink his teeth into what he still had.

He'd tried to find ways to tell them, to start something after. To let them know they were spoken for, to show them why they should wait for him to be done.

But the time for pleasure had passed, squandered away by Eren’s arrogance, and there had been no moment for them to just be soft with each other, for them to only be with each other.

And they deserved this. Eren had dragged them into this war, this life, they deserved a way out, they deserved to know his feelings in a peaceful way. They deserved more than the corner Eren had dug himself into.

Now it was too late.

He hadn't gotten either of them, but the jeagerists had been excited and loyal enough to offer. The amount of times Eren had had Floch or someone else on their knees or beneath him, begging to receive some of his glory was now countless, and it made him disgusted. In them or himself, he couldn't tell.

He'd wanted to make it right. Right and soft like they deserved, like love was supposed to be. A soft bed with no war around it, time for hugs and kisses and bites and bruises. He'd wanted peace for them to get their chance.

He'd missed it.

Eren opened the cell door. Armin sat up. There was anger, yes, but also caution in his eyes. “Huh. You’ve finally learned to fear me.” he stepped closer, grabbing his chin. “Took you long enough.”

Armin wrenched his head away. “Eren, what is this?”

Eren could distantly hear the girl breathing in the background. He couldn’t find himself caring too much about it. Instead, he grabbed Armin’s face once again, studying his features as they were now, freshly healed.

He loved them. And they couldn't live if they followed him where he was going, and they wouldn't give it up unless they thought the worst.

He'd considered Mikasa for this. But her loyalty to him had always been one without reason and her love on display. There was a chance that she might want it. A chance she’d lay there and take it and be grateful for it, a chance she would forgive him this disgrace.

It had to be Armin.

He would see it as a betrayal.

 Armin would try to stop him, Armin couldn't turn Colossus for fear of hurting others. He’d just lay there and take it, because he couldn’t fight and he couldn’t run. Mikasa loved Eren for being kind. If he hurt, if he broke Armin the same way those men wanted to break her, then she’d learn to hate him.

She had to.

                Eren was going to die for this world. He was going to die hated and despised for the sake of Eldia and its people. Didn’t he deserve to be a little bit selfish?

                Hadn’t he been already way too selfish?

                Eren had given too much to this world already. He might as well take something for himself.

                “What do you want, Eren?” Armin asked, and Eren took the change to place his finger in his mouth. Armin froze. Eren smirked.

                “What Armin? No bite?” his hand moved to the throat and pushed him down. Armin finally started to fight.      

                “Eren! what are you doing?!”

                “And here I thought you were smart.” Eren said, shoving his arms up and hanging the cuffs on a hook on the wall. Armin’s legs were kicking at air behind him, and Eren settled comfortably over his crotch. Armin was flaccid. Eren would take care of that later.

                “Hey, Stop!”

                “Stop moving so much.” Eren said, taking care to pry every button of his shirt free. “I’ll have to rip this open, and I doubt you’d want to remain naked around here.”

                “Eren, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but stop right this instant!”

                “No.”

                Armin was panicking, his composure seeping out with every pop of a button. “There’s a kid here!” he tried.

                Eren stopped for a moment, as he heard the girl’s breath hitch. “So? Brat will die before she gets any action, might as well see some while she has the chance.”

                Armin stopped struggling. He was blinking fast, and Eren remembered the same look on his face as he was helpless to stop bullies from hurting him.

                “Why?” his voice was soft and broken.

                Eren had gotten good at lying, but he didn’t enjoy it. It was against his nature to be anything but brutally honest. Most important now, to be believable, he went for the closest thing to the truth he could allow.

                “Because you’re mine, Armin. What else there is to it?”

                His mouth clamps shut, his friend rendered speechless. Eren turns his attention to the expanse of skin beneath him. There’s no new wounds, only scars older than Erwin’s death. Armin had managed to evade a lot of the damage of the Scouts, so maybe his body’s disuse to violence is the reason for the gritting of his teeth. Eren kisses the side of his neck, above his pulse and feels it throbbing. He licks a thin, long stripe from his throat to his nipple, where he proceeds to suck and blow cold air on the bud, getting a wince in return. Armin tasted of soot and sweat, and there must’ve been a time when he tasted of home.

                It hurt to know he could've gotten this for free. Had he just asked, had he just known sooner. That Armin could have been splayed beneath him, open on his own accord, that Mikasa could've been near them, on a bed big enough to accommodate them all.

He could get the bed. There definitely was one in this building, and the jaegerists haven’t cared about their lives, they certainly would not care about their virtue.

But that would make this softer, that would make it seem like Eren still cared about them.

He needs to make it brutal, and, by the way Armin won’t meet his eyes, he knows he's achieving it.

                His head is turned towards the wall and lips pinched in a vow of silence. A wave of rage washes over him, more familiar than the previous apathy. What is the point of this, if not for a reaction? a lasting impact? Eren grabs his face and turns it towards him.

                “You don’t get to ignore me, got it?”

                “Or what? You’ll rape me harder?”

                Eren let out a huf. “I can make it worse, you know?” with one hand he pulled apart his pants and squeezed on his flaccid cock till Armin cried. “You don’t need a dick for this, and we both know it will grow back.” he pulled experimentally on the member, carving a scream out of the other. “Are we on the same page?”

                Armin nods. Eren lets the hold go loose, but doesn’t let it go entirely. Armin is watching him, waiting for his next move. Eren pushes himself down the bench, pulling Armin’s pants and boxers down with him. The metal buttons clink on the floor, a welcome sound in the tense silence.

                Armin’s legs spread with little resistance. A pale expanse of smooth skin and decent muscle Eren took his time sinking his fingers into. He’d seen Armin’s cock before, in the showers, felt it against his leg when they were cuddling for warmth before any of it had any meaning besides a simple body part. It is of decent size. He looked at Armin, who’s studying him once again. Wondering what Eren’s plan will be, if he’s going to hold up on his threat.

                Eren leaned into his thigh, planting a kiss on the inside of it. It was soft, gentle, like none of this was, and that got a loud hitch of breath out of him, fingers clenching in their shackles.

                “Hey!” The brat yelled from the spot Eren forgot she even existed. “Stop that! let him go! isn’t he your friend?” she was sniffing, crying, and Eren couldn’t find it in himself to care. Armin closed his eyes as if ashamed, as if it was his fault Eren needed to destroy him tonight.

                “Do you wanna take his place?”

                The girl went quiet. Armin’s head snapped towards him, rage clouding his eyes, and Eren’s face broke into a smirk. He talked, still to the girl, while holding Armin’s gaze.

                “If you’d like to come next, you only need to wait your turn. I can make time for it later.”

                “Eren, no!” Armin yelled rage back into his voice. “She has nothing to do with this!” Eren went back to peppering kisses and bruises onto his thighs. Armin seemed to be more disturbed by his silence. “Eren, promise me you won’t! she doesn’t deserve this!”

                “And you do?” Eren’s gaze pinned him too. Both Armin and the girl were quiet. “Answer me” Eren dug his nails into the soft flesh of his friend’s thighs. “Do you deserve to be here? Did you do something to deserve this?”

                “No… no.”

                “No what?”

                “No I don’t deserve this.”

                The room was quiet save for Armin’s pants. The girl was quiet as the dead. Eren kissed lower down his thighs, closer to his genitals, and Armin’s face flickered between looking away and preventing more pain.

                “Then, why are we here?”

                “You ask me?!” the pure indignation, the still present rage sent a spark of hope through Eren. He’d always loved Armin’s rage, a hard earned price for how hard it was to get it out. The sheer relief he’d felt when his friend threw the first punch earlier that day, the catharsis of the blood in his mouth was one of the few joy’s he’d gotten since everything started.

                “I told you already, didn’t I?” Eren licked a stripe along his cock, letting the tiniest bit of teeth to graze over the surface. “You’re here because you’re mine” He held Armin’s gaze from between his legs, and Armin gave in first. Eren raised and got fully on top of the blonde. His cock – already hard in expectation – grazed against the other’s backside, and Armin tried to pull himself away. There was no place to go. “Say it.”

                “What?”

                “Say it.” Eren traced a hand back to Armin’s entrance, fingers rubbing the rim in a threat. “Say it and I will be gentle.”

                “Eren, please.” Armin begged one more time. “Not… not like this.”

                “Would you rather be on your hands and knees?” Eren tilted his head. “Or would you rather use your mouth?” Armin nodded, if cautiously. “Too bad, I don’t trust your teeth.”

                “Then why ask?”

                Eren ignored him, fingers tracing the rim once again, trying in vain to relax the tense muscle. “Who do you belong to?”

                Pause.

                “You.”

                A shiver of pleasure when through Eren at the words. “I didn’t hear you.”

                “I belong to you.” Armin spoke once again, and relief passed through Eren at that moment. He took Armin once again by the chin, making him meet his eyes. This was fucked up. He knew it. He could see it in his friend’s eyes. Eren would never forgive himself for this, but he didn’t need to, if it kept the two of them alive. But still, to hear the words, the truth he’d known for so long finaly acknowledged, it was pure bliss.

                “So… so please…”

                “Please what?”

                Armin didn’t meet his eyes, and the look on his face was bashful. “Please be gentle.”

                Eren would’ve made a comment about pampered princesses, if this was any other time, any gentle time, where teasing would be met with a laugh. He said the line in his head, heard the non existent laughter and saved it somewhere in his memory for later.

                In the present, in the cell, he caressed Armin’s face with his knuckles, and Armin didn’t pull away. “You’re learning. Good.”

                Eren leaned in for a kiss and Armin put in no fight, opening his lips and letting Eren in. He explored every inch and crevice, holding Armin’s face, and the way Armin just leaned into him, opened up to his every move was amazing. Eren would’ve stayed there forever, making out in a dungeon and pretending that this was something soft.

                He couldn’t, so he saved it to his memory.

                After what felt like too long and not enough, Eren pulled away. Armin was flushed under him, and his dick had gone from flaccid to interested.

                Eren didn’t waste any more time.

                He sunk onto the cock in one go, and Armin took in a very vocal breath. His cock tasted much like the rest of him, and Eren swirled his tongue around the head, the shaft, sinking back and forth the way Floch did on his own. Eren had never felt the need or desire to offer to anyone else, and he probably could’ve used the experience, but, by the downright obscene sounds coming out of Armin, he couldn’t tell.

                Eren pulled away, tongue feeling up every ridge and vein on the member, leaving a string of spit between the shaft and his mouth. Eren leaned forward and paid some attention to his balls too, and that seemed to get the most reaction. Armin kicked his legs involuntarily, and Eren only held them down, without a comment.

                He returned to the shaft, sinking up and down, hand alternating between the cock and the balls, and Armin was getting more and more vocal about it. His cock was now hard, so Eren pulled away.

                “What… why?” Armin panted, face flushed.

                Eren gave him a cruel smirk “So now you’re excited.” Armin clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, snapped them open and then looked at the ceiling. “What did I tell you…”

                “I’ll look at you!” Armin closed his eyes. “just give me a minute.”

                “No.”

                Armin gulped and looked at him, trying to hold Eren’s gaze and intentionally avoiding the sight of his cock. It was Eren’s turn not to look at him, as he pulled out the small vial of oil from his pocket. Armin’s eyes followed him as he poured it on his shaft and rubbed it till it was covered. His cock was hard – had been for a while now – and part of him told they should go dry and bloody and painful, Eren himself should suffer a little after this whole ordeal. Why should he get the pleasure out of it?

                He did a throughout job on his cock anyway, and pushed in immediately after. It appeared that Armin had somehow managed to relax enough for the transition to be smooth. Eren went through the now familiar moves, unprepared for the feelings that followed. He mapped Armin’s face to his memory and, when it got too much, he sunk into his neck, his chest, marking as many bruises that wouldn’t last. When Armin tensed and tried to close his eyes, Eren would only push them open once again, fitting into the other till there was no space left. Maybe if he pushed deep enough, they’d get close enough to become one, to make everything make sense. Maybe if they became one, Eren could feel the pain he was inflicting, could find a space in Armin’s always busy mind that made sense, or that made no sense at all and allowed him to get lost in it.

                He was close. Armin’s breath became more erratic, body moving without mind behind it, cock red. Eren glided one finger on the surface and Armin whined, loud, definitely loud enough for the guards outside to hear him.

                “Eren, please…”

                “No.” Eren lied.

                He sat up, grabbed Armin’s thighs and pulled his knees over his shoulders. Armin whined at the new angle, and Eren bit his lip, because he wasn’t much better. He wrapped his hand around Armin’s cock, pumping a few times for good measure.

                Armin came first.

                Hot and sticky between them, and Eren bottomed out as he was riding it out. Eren struggled to come quietly, to not make a sound, and allowed Armin’s moans to do all the talking. He pulled out, watching his rim stretched around his cock, semen pouring out of the hole and onto the bed.

                Armin was spent and speechless. His eyes were hazy and his words slurred, if they were even words to begin with. Eren wanted nothing more than to lay besides him, in their own filth and wait for the world to start hurting again.

                He got up.

                He grabbed a rag and cleaned everything he could. Armin watched him, eyes gaining clarity, inquisitive, as the were trying to figure him out. “Why?”

                Eren picked the most cruel answer. “I may come back later.” he wouldn’t. Armin had to hate him enough by now.

                He tossed the rag and left the cell, taking his time locking it, only so he could watch Armin a little bit longer. The girl had curled up behind her own bed, hands on her ears, trying to make herself smaller. To hide from him. Armin was watching him watching her, so Eren returned to managing the door. The final lock clicked in place, and Eren spoke loud enough so both of them would hear it. “I’ll remind them to bring you water later.” to Armin “I think you’ll want to be dressed for that.”

                He left. His steps heavy and his soul dirtier than it had been when he first stepped through. He looked at the guard. Their eyes met for a second and then the guard looked down.

                “Bring them food and water in half an hour. Not a second earlier.”

                “Yes, sir!” the guard said, mechanically. Eren stepped into his space, the man pulling away till his back was to the wall.

                “He’s mine.”

                “Yes, Sir!”

~O~

                Gabi had tried her best not to hear them fucking, to pretend she wasn’t there, or that maybe she’d simply stumbled upon some of the older warriors getting frisky in a closet somewhere. She’d covered her ears till everything was simply muffled, and prayed to all the gods of Marley that the monster in form of a man wouldn’t make good on his threat.

                The blond – Armin, Armin who didn’t curse her, who took her from Sasha’s sister, who tried to talk to her in the kindest way she’d had people do after knowing her – did not deserve this. Sure, he was a devil, an Island devil who deserved to be exterminated and to pay for what he’d done to her city… but not like this. He should’ve died quickly, his kindness had earned him that much, not the… not the thing, the rape from Eren Jaeger. No one deserved that!  Weren’t they friends? Weren’t they loyal to each other? They’d fought together, they were comrades. Gabi had trusted her fellow Warriors with her life, and Armin…

                Armin did too.

                Her face was wet and she tried to stay silent, even after Eren Jaeger made his way out of the dungeon and the door locked with a thump. She tried to hold her cries – what right did she have to cry for him – to Armin’s heavy breaths and then to the slow, painful movement of him getting up. She only turned when she heard the belt buckle clink in the empty air.

                She needed to say something. She couldn’t stand the silence and the smell and the everything, she needed to say something, if not for his sake, then for her own, for her own cowardice when she’d stayed quiet at the threat.

                “Are you… are you okay?”

                “I’ll live”

Notes:

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