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"Hey, you're doing fine. Seriously," Armin said, hoping to calm your nerves as you practiced aiming at the cans off in the distance.
"I'm missing everything," you sighed in frustration, placing the end of the rifle on the ground in front of you. "How is it possible I even graduated from the 104th when I can't even aim?"
"You saw Connie yesterday, right?" Armin pointed out with a small smile.
"Yeah, but he eventually gets the hang of everything." You felt utterly defeated. For the past 3 days you were practicing with guns, the anti-Marleyan refugees supplying them and Commander Hange encouraging you all to find the time to practice with them. After all, now the battle wasn’t simply exclusive to fighting titans.
Armin had been sitting with you at the unofficial shooting range for nearly an hour now, and you've successfully knocked a whopping 5 cans so far.
You go on to miss another, causing you to sigh again dramatically. Armin stands, chuckling more to himself as he steps closer to you. "You're overthinking it," he states simply. You ignore him, shutting one eye as you aim. Armin covers his ears before you pull the trigger, grazing the next can with the bullet but not fully penetrating it.
At that point, you couldn't even sigh. It was getting ridiculous and quite frankly super annoying. Titans, whatever. They were big - a big, open target that was pretty much impossible to miss. Cans were another thing entirely, and you couldn't imagine being in a scenario where you were obligated to shoot at a moving, living being.
Armin takes one look at your pouting face and grins, trying to hold back a laugh in order to not make you feel worse than you already were. "Just relax," he says gently, reaching out and adjusting the posture of your shoulders before pulling away. "Don't squeeze the trigger too hard, either," he adds, covering his ears in preparation for your next shot.
You take a deep breath in, trying to relax your mind and body, before you pull the trigger. And what do you know? You still missed.
It took everything in you to not crash onto the ground and throw a tantrum, but your reputation would be in shambles if Armin saw. Not that he'd tell anyone, but it still took a lot of strength to hold yourself together and not completely crash out.
"It's okay," he laughs, taking the rifle from your hands. "Just give it time."
"What if I don't have enough time?" You ask, taking a few strides to the table to pick up a canteen of water.
Lately, but it all was dawning on him that time was very limited now. It could happen in an instant that something could change for the worst. With the knowledge of Marley and the impending war between them and your little island, it was tough to stay laid-back or even think of time as something unlimited. As a child, it was so easy to imagine time as something that never ran out. Here in the current situation, though, that wasn't really an option.
"I get what you mean," Armin finally replied, the silence thick between you two.
It seemed you both thought of things you haven't done yet, seen yet, or even said yet. And that feeling was nauseating, causing your own heart to swell and your mind swim with the thoughts of things you'd do if you had all the time in the world.
But you didn't. And that realization was panic-inducing, to say the least.
"Dinner's ready! Unless you two plan on starving out here!" The voice of Jean provided a momentary distraction, allowing you both to move on from that conversation.
You wait for Armin to start moving towards the mess hall first, then you fall into a stride beside him. "Well, if time's running out I better start hitting those stupid cans," you joke, making Armin let out a laugh.
ꔛ
The evening went on relatively normally after that. You sat with your usual friends at dinner and hung out near the training grounds for a bit before you all eventually decided to call it a night one by one.
You sat in your room at the barracks alone, your rank granting you a separate bedroom (which was just implemented largely due to all the new buildings seeming to sprout up all over Paradis). The setup was similar to a dorm, with a small cubic room to sleep in but shared bathrooms and shower spaces. It was nice and definitely an improvement to being forced to listen to Sasha's snoring every night.
A soft knock on the door made you perk your head up from the book you were reading. You stood up and walked over, only to be greeted by Armin standing on the other side.
"Hey," you said with a smile, "can't sleep?"
Armin, a grin instantly tugging at his lips at the sight of you in your pajamas, nods in response. "Yeah. I have been staying up pretty late, though, recently," he added the last part almost shyly, as if to justify being up at the late hour.
You step out of the way after opening your door wider, allowing Armin to take a few strides inside. Your dorm was equipped with all the things a soldier might need to pass the time. A bookshelf next to your small bed and a desk in the corner with papers scattered along the surface. A dim lantern gave the room a warm glow and a cozy feeling, along with the dainty curtains that covered the window that were thin and soft but nice for the warming weather.
"I was just reading," you say, shutting the door. "Sometimes I miss the training days where all of us girls would stay up late talking, but also I could go without a lot of things from then."
Armin laughed, taking a seat on your bed and eyeing the book you were reading previously. "You're telling me. The boys' barracks were always full of surprises, often not good ones," he replied.
You dropped next to him, letting the silence begin to stretch and envelope around you two before Armin cleared his throat.
"Listen," he started, head turning toward you but eyes not meeting yours as if he was nervous. "I was thinking a lot about our conversation earlier," he admitted. "About... time. And it kind of scared me a bit, if I'm being honest."
You nodded, understanding what he was talking about. "I know, me too," you replied. "Who knows what'll even happen tomorrow, let alone years into the future? It's scary."
"Yeah," he agreed. "It got me thinking about things I put off doing because I assumed I'd have the opportunity to do them later. Even little things, like ironing my shirt or drinking a glass of water. I always assumed these were things I would always have time for, but that's just not the case. With the lives we live, as Eldians and as soldiers, it's tough to say if we'll have time for anything."
The words hung in the air between you, carrying the weight of a truth both of you had been avoiding. You nodded slowly, understanding exactly what Armin meant.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." he hesitated, his voice faltering slightly like he was holding back. He paused, taking a deep breath as he finally turned to meet your gaze. His blue eyes, usually so calm and kind, were now swimming with a mix of fear and determination. "I'm done wasting time."
You blinked, momentarily stunned by the look in his eyes. "What do you mean?" You asked, eyes never leaving his.
"You know what I mean," he said, his voice a bit rough with nervousness and something else.
Your heart fluttered when the meaning of his words started to sink in. The vulnerability in his expression, the way his voice trembled ever so slightly, the way his fingers curled into fists on his knees as if trying to muster up courage—it was all so... Armin. And it made your heart ache.
"Armin, I..." you started, unable to really find the words to reply with anything else. Especially when he began to shift closer.
With a whisper of your name, his hands gently cupped your cheeks as he slightly leaned in as you felt yourself do the same. Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours.
The kiss started soft, almost cautious, like he wasn’t entirely sure if this was okay. But the moment you responded, your hand slipping to the back of his neck to pull him closer, all hesitation melted away. It was like something inside him snapped, and suddenly the kiss was anything but cautious.
Armin kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment forever, like he was terrified it might be the only chance he’d ever get. One of his hands moved to hold you at the waist, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
Your heart was pounding so loudly you were certain he could feel it. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed you now, nothing reserved. It was desperate, heated, and filled with all the emotions he had been holding back for so long.
When his tongue slowly traced at your lips you were unable to decline, your mouth parting as it gently slipped inside to meet yours. Armin let out a soft sigh at the feeling of your tongue and lips, his grip on your waist tightening just a bit. Your fingers tangled into his blonde hair as you kissed.
Armin’s hands slid down from your waist, his fingers brushing over the soft fabric of your sleep shirt—thin, worn, and barely concealing the warmth of your skin beneath. His touch was teasing, exploratory, as if he was mapping every curve, every breath you took. His lips never left yours, though the kiss had slowed into something deeper, more deliberate, his tongue tracing lazy patterns against yours.
When his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt, he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough with want but still laced with that careful consideration. "May I...?"
You nodded, breathless, and he didn’t hesitate any longer. His hands slid under the fabric, palms skimming up your sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath the swell of your breasts. He exhaled sharply through his nose, a quiet laugh escaping him as his fingers traced higher.
"No bra?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though his cheeks were flushed. "I mean... I get it. Comfort first." His thumbs circled your nipples, already stiffening under his touch, and he smirked. "But damn, is it convenient."
You huffed a laugh, but it dissolved into a gasp as his fingers pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive peaks between them. "Armin—"
"You okay?" he asked, though his hands didn’t stop, his touch alternating between soft caresses and firmer pressure, testing what made you shiver.
You nodded, biting your lip as his mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your throat. His teeth grazed your pulse point, and you arched into him instinctively, your fingers tightening in his hair.
You nodded, biting your lip as his mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your throat. His teeth grazed your pulse point, and you arched into him instinctively, your fingers tightening in his hair.
"Good," he breathed against your skin, his hands sliding fully up to cup your breasts, kneading them with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His thumbs flicked over your nipples again, and he grinned when you whined. "I’ve thought about this. A lot. Way too much, if I'm honest. How you’d sound. How you’d feel."
His lips found the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly before dragging his tongue over the spot, soothing the sting. One hand left your chest to trail lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of your sleep pants. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.
You shook your head, your hips shifting toward his touch. "Please don't."
Armin laughed, low and breathless, before his hands slid further down into your waistband, fingertips tracing the curve of your thighs. "Then let me—" His breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, brushing against the heat between your thighs—only to pause.
His eyes flicked back up to yours, wide with disbelief. "...No panties, either?"
You grinned sheepishly, shifting just enough to press yourself against his hand. "They're uncomfortable, too," you protested.
Armin groaned, dragging his fingers through your slick folds with a shudder. "Fuck, you’re killing me." His touch was featherlight at first, teasing circles around your clit before dipping lower, just barely pressing inside.
"Arm—please—" You whimpered, hips rocking against his hand.
He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as his fingers curled, finding that perfect spot inside you that made your back arch. "You feel so good," he breathed against your lips. "Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything. You know that?"
His words made your heart skip a beat. You instantly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his roughly as his fingers rubbed circles over your wet clit.
Armin’s breath hitched as he felt just how wet you were for him, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your slick folds, each stroke teasing another desperate whimper from your lips. His thumb pressed firm circles against your clit while his middle finger teased at your entrance, dragging up and down in slow, torturous strokes before finally—finally—sinking inside.
"Fuck—" His voice was rough, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your thighs trembling around his hand. "You’re so tight…"
The first push of his finger was slow, deliberate, letting you adjust to the stretch before he curled it just right, rubbing against that sweet spot that made your back arch off the bed. His lips crashed back onto yours, swallowing your moans as he added a second finger, stretching you even further, his palm pressing firmly against your clit with every thrust.
His fingers worked you with relentless precision, curling and scissoring inside you, each movement sending sparks of white-hot pleasure up your spine. Your nails dug into his shoulders as your hips rocked against his hand, chasing your release with desperate, broken gasps.
His fingers curled inside you, dragging against your walls in slow, deliberate strokes, each one making your hips jerk against his hand. "Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me, (Y/N)... like you don’t want me to pull out."
You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as he added a third finger, stretching you just enough to make your breath stutter. His thumb circled your clit in tight, relentless motions, matching the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. The slick sounds of your arousal filled the room, obscenely loud in the quiet space between your ragged breaths.
"Come on," he urged, his voice thick with lust as he watched you unravel beneath him. "Let me feel it—let me feel you come on my fingers. Please."
And god, you couldn’t hold back any longer—not when he was touching you like this, not when he sounded so desperate for it. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your back arching into him as you cried into his shoulder, your pussy clenching around his fingers in rhythmic pulses, soaking his hand with your release.
Armin didn’t stop—not even as you writhed beneath him, oversensitive and shaking. He kept fucking you through it, fingers still buried deep inside you, his thumb still working your clit until you were sobbing, your legs twitching with the aftershocks.
Only then did he finally slow, pressing a kiss to your parted lips as he pulled his fingers free—glistening with your arousal. He brought them to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them clean with a low, satisfied groan, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
"Armin!" You scolded, embarrassment seeping in at the way he tasted you.
"I'm sorry, was it too much?" He asked softly, one hand placed gently along the curve of your hip, and his eyes full of consideration and care.
You shook your head, unable to resist anything about him when you saw just how much he cared for your comfort. Remembering him being here wasn't just about fucking, but because he was trying to tell you something without using words. Something you similarly felt, but were never brave enough to act on.
Your heart pounded wildly as Armin leaned down to press another tender kiss to your lips, his fingers brushing along your heated skin with a reverence that made your stomach flutter. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to taste you," he admitted softly, breath fanning against your mouth.
The words sent another rush of warmth between your thighs, but before you could respond, his hands were already moving—slowly stripping away the last of his own clothes. Your breath caught as his shirt hit the floor, revealing the lean, toned frame of a soldier who had long since shed the softness of his cadet days. His skin was marked with faint scars, the proof of battles fought and survived, but the way he looked at you—eyes dark with need, lips slightly parted—made him seem almost vulnerable in this moment.
His hands slid up your body, fingers tracing along your ribs before tugging at the waistband of your loose sleep pants. You lifted your hips, letting him peel them off slowly, his breath hitching as he revealed the bare, glistening heat between your thighs. "You're beautiful," he breathed, before he moved his hands to the waistband of his own pants.
Then, his pants slid down his legs, and your gaze dropped.
His cock stood fully erect, thick and flushed a deep red at the tip, veins running along the length of it. It wasn’t massive, but it was perfect—curved just slightly upwards, the head already glistening with precum as it twitched under your hungry stare.
You bit your lower lip, your fingers reached out, ghosting along the length of him—just once—before he caught your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm before gently guiding you back onto the bed beneath him.
The weight of his body settling over yours sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of his skin pressing against yours as he leaned down to capture your lips again. His hips rocked forward, the hard length of his cock dragging through your slick folds, spreading your arousal along his shaft in a slow, torturous glide.
He leaned in to kiss you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips, your skin, the way your body molded so perfectly under his. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, hands pushing your hair back and out of the way of your forehead.
"Mnh... and... you're so wet," Armin groaned, slowly sliding his erection through your dripping slit. His hand held onto his cock, guiding it as he rubbed the leaking head over your clit before pressing it down to drag it over your entrance. Up and down he teased you maddeningly with long sensual strokes, his shaft growing damp and slick from your juices.
Armin grunted as he continued to slide his cock back and forth between your glistening folds, teasing and stimulating your clit as well. "Oh, my God," Armin shuddered, his member throbbing almost painfully in his grip, the broad crown glistening proof of your arousal.
Armin couldn't stop thrusting his hips now, the tip of his cock fluttering just slightly as if trying to push past your entrance and dive deep into your tight heat. He fought the urge to simply drive forward and bury himself balls deep inside you. He wanted to do so badly to watch you come undone beneath him. But even so, he wanted to savor you. Savor the moment.
"Armin," you whimpered, thighs and hips trembling every time the tip nudged at your clit, feeling wetness still seep onto the flesh of his dick. "Stop teasing, please," you say, brows furrowed as he continued the torture.
"I'm sorry," he grinned sheepishly, his hips also twitching slightly. You knew he was having trouble holding back also, but if his goal was to just get you unbearbly wet, he was doing a pretty good job.
Your breathing grew heavier as Armin continued to torture you with the slow drag of his cock against your wet cunt, the swollen tip parting your folds to dip teasingly into your entrance before he retreated, the drag of his length through your slick an obscene sound in the quiet room. Each deliberate pass over your clit made you jolt and shudder beneath him, your thighs clenching around his hips as he stoked the desire building rapidly in your core to a fevered pitch.
With every pass, he pushed into you just a little bit deeper until the fat head of his cock finally caught on your entrance, stretching you open with tender slowness as he sank into your tight, gripping pussy inch by inch. Armin groaned at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, so hot and slick and tight, gripping his length tightly.
"Fuck...you feel incredible," he rumbled, his breath coming in haggard pants now as he finally bottomed out inside you, every thick centimeter of him buried to the hilt in your grasping heat.
"Armin," you whined, earning a small smile from him.
"I know, baby," he said softly, composure barely holding on.
Armin captured your lips in a sweet kiss as he started to move, rolling his hips with deliberate slowness, letting you feel every drag and pull as he fucked into you torturously slow. It was different from how he'd touched you with his fingers, deeper and harder, more purposeful as each thrust seemed focused on hitting precisely that perfect spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your back arch clean off the bed.
"Feel good?" He asks, looking down at your flushed face and the way sweat began to gather at your forehead, his hand still pushing your hair out of your face as he fucked you.
"Mhm," you reply, hips rolling on their own to meet every thrust of his hips, driving his cock deeper inside of you. "Harder, please, Armin," you requested with a whimper, eyes meeting his.
"I've got you," he responded, then shifted his weight to pull you closer, impossibly closer, his arms holding you against him tightly. "I've got you, baby," he repeated, this time his lips grazing softly against your ear.
Then, his pace increased, and you had nowhere to go as he fucked you. "Armin!" You cried out against his shoulder, the feeling of his thick cock plunging into your dripping pussy again and again, the drag of his cock against your walls overwhelming as he fucked into you with an fervor that stole your ability to think. Your thighs trembled around his pistoning hips as he breathed into your ear, sweat starting to bead along his forehead as he drove himself deeper, harder into your body with each roll of his hips, chasing your pleasure and his own with single-minded focus.
"God—fuck—I've wanted this for so long," he groaned, his grip tightening around you as if he was afraid you’d slip away. "Wanted you... for so fucking long."
His thrusts were brutal, each one driving his cock so deep inside you that you could feel his hips slamming against your clit with every snap of his pelvis. But despite the rough, almost punishing pace, his words were tender—sweet—like he was pouring out every hidden feeling he'd ever had for you in between the filthy, wet sounds of your bodies moving together.
"You don't even—ah—know how many times I thought about this," he panted, his teeth grazing your shoulder before soothing the sting with a gentle kiss. "How many times I imagined fucking you just like this—holding you so close to me."
You whimpered, overwhelmed by the force of his thrusts and the raw emotion in his voice. His cock was stretching you so perfectly, hitting that spot inside you with every deep plunge, making your vision blur with pleasure.
"You feel so good," Armin grunted, his voice thick with lust and something deeper—something like love. "So good," he whimpered.
His hips stuttered as he adjusted his angle, fucking up into you with sharp, punishing rolls of his hips that made your toes curl. One of his hands slid into your hair, gripping gently but firmly as he forced you to look at him—his kind blue eyes burning with need, brows furrowed, his lips parted in pleasure.
"Tell me you feel it too," he demanded, his voice rough but pleading. "Tell me you've wanted this—wanted me—just as much. Please."
You could barely form words, your mind clouded with pleasure, but you managed a breathless nod, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked you through another wave of mind-numbing ecstasy.
"Say it," he urged, his cock twitching inside you as he felt your walls clench around him. "Tell me—fuck—tell me you're mine. Please say you're mine."
"I'm yours," you gasped, arching into him as the coil in your stomach tightened unbearably. "Always yours—fuck!"
Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your entire body tensing as you cry out his name—"Armin!"—your nails raking down his back as your pussy clenches around him in desperate, rhythmic pulses. The pleasure is overwhelming, white-hot and all-consuming, and you cling to him like he's the only thing keeping you grounded as waves of ecstasy shudder through you.
Armin groans, his thrusts growing erratic as he feels you clamp down around him, your slick walls milking his cock mercilessly. "Fuck—fuck—I can't—" His voice is ragged, his hips stuttering as he fights to hold on, but the way you’re gripping him is too much. With a final, shuddering groan, he pulls out just in time, his cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum stripe your stomach, hot and sticky against your skin.
For a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing, harsh and uneven, mixed with Armin's labored pants as he nearly collapses on top og you, his body trembling with exertion. His arm shakes as he holds himself up just enough to avoid crushing you, his forehead pressing against yours as you both come down from the high.
Slowly, gently, Armin shifts to prop himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching for his discarded shirt nearby. He cleans you up with careful, reverent strokes, his touch achingly tender as he wipes away the mess he made.
"Sorry," he murmurs, though the way his thumb traces idle circles on your hip tells you he’s not that sorry. "Got a little carried away."
You laugh breathlessly, your fingers threading through his sweat-damp hair as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I’m not complaining."
Armin smiles against your mouth before pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes warm with affection. "Good." He shifts to pull the covers over both of you, tucking you against his chest as his fingers trace lazy patterns along your spine. "You okay?"
You nod, allowing Armin to pull the blankets over the two of you.
"I meant everything. I really like you. Everything about you," he says into your hair, holding you close and praying you'd say the same.
"Me too," you reply, letting yourself relax in his embrace.