To be fair, you're pretty girly, Armin," Hange chirps, wrapping their arm around Armin's shoulders with a sly grin. Their hair swings over their face, a dark shadow casting over their gaze. His striking blue eyes watch in amusement as the rest of the Survey Corps nods along in agreement. Truthfully, he doesn't mind the speculations, albeit a little strange how interested his coworkers are in his sex life, he can't blame them for being so interested when he has a boyfriend like you. Plus, he's come quite far from how he used to be— his hair is shorter, cheeks less rounded out by babyfat, shoulders broad and square. He doesn't need to prove anything. "You let a big rock like that push you around every night?"
The blond coughs into his fist, squeezing his big, cerulean eyes shut to stifle a laugh. You're much taller than Armin, even on a bad day, with a permanent glare in your eyes. You'd make mountains shrink if they could, with your piercing gaze. Even as you trail behind your boyfriend like a puppy, they see nothing but a guard dog, its canines bared and sharp and dangerous. Your intensity almost surpasses Levi's, even if they were too scared to admit it.
But it means nothing when you're under him.
You look up at him like he means the world, glassy eyes blinking against crystal tears as he pushes his cock deeper down your throat and forces you to gag on it. Your eyes roll, drool falling down your chin and down your chest that he loves to squeeze and fondle. You're such a good boy, the way you writhe and squirm with every orgasm of yours he ruins— just thinking about it makes his dick harden in his cargos.
Armin tugs at the collar of his shirt with his index finger, bending the fabric absentmindedly. His comrades snicker at his flustered display, and the hard smacks to his back lurching him forward, back and forth.
"Bet he really makes you his—"
"... bitch, huh?" His voice is fuzzy in your ears, sweet and tantalizing as rope digs into your wrists. Your legs are bent, knees reaching your head as a spreader-bar holds your thighs wide open. Your back is pressed into Armin's small mattress, which dips and sinks under your weight. No matter where you turn, you're consumed in Armin's warmth, his soft hands roaming along your naked body. He lets you whine, your head lulling back and forth as you knit your eyebrows together.
"Huh...? M'sorry.. m'sorry," You pant, not quite sure what you're apologizing for, probably because you've lost your train of thought, because you couldn't hear what filthy things he was saying because he's fucking you stupid.
"Oh, honey," The blond's voice is coated in just that, sweetness dripping from his tongue as he grips your cock tight, thumbing the slit and smearing precum all over the head. The bars at your knees stop you from bucking your hips, as he squeezes the base of your cock the second you start to pulse a little too much. "Such a dumb whore. What happened to my big, smart boy?"
Degradation. You love to hear it, especially from Armin's lips. If you thought too much about it, had it whispered in your ear until your brain melted, you could cum from that alone. Your cock throbs in his hand, as he spits down on it with a quiet 'p'tuh' and grins as you shudder. The wetness of his saliva feels too good, too warm against his skin as your rut and flex in his hand. "Mm, your cock is so pretty. Too bad it's useless."
You try to fuck into it, chase the feeling that has you wailing, writhing in your restraints and struggling to kick your legs. It's too much, the squelching in your ears as Armin's warm breath pans lower and lower down your chest, your abdomen, closer to your throbbing, needy dick. He sighs, open mouthed and breathy, watching your cock jump in retaliation— nearly out his hand. Nonetheless his grip tightens, pumping uppp and dooown, smearing precum until it covers your cock in a thin, shiny and tempting layer. You moan between your teeth, eyes glued on his skinny fingers milking you for all your worth.
