Work Text:
Something has been bothering Annie for a little while.
It's crept up on her recently, and while she had been aware of it for a while, it's starting to bug her now that she's 18.
She knows it shouldn't be. She's not the type to give in to the pressure society crushes us all with - she's a quiet, cynical and angsty girl, preferring to just do what she needs to do in order to get the grades she needs to get into university.
But now, on the subject of university, she's starting to feel hot and bothered again.
Don't most people lose it before they go to university? she asks herself. Last year she heard one of the tall, hot, popular girls - Annie always thought she looked exactly like Barbie - saying that she and her then-boyfriend had gone all the way. It didn't bother her at the time, because she knew most of the people in her year probably hadn't done it yet. She felt normal.
She doesn't feel normal anymore.
Annie knows she shouldn't be upset by this but she is. She's had boyfriends - several, actually - but she stills labels herself as a "virgin" and she wants to get rid of it ASAP.
She is one of many, but she feels isolated and fearful in her internal battle.
* * *
Annie is not a social butterfly, but she has more friends than most think. She just isn't close to them. At all.
She made friends with a very sweet and caring boy at the start of their first college year. He went to a different secondary school to her, and brought along this best friend of his called something-Yeager who never stopped shouting.
She absolutely loves this boy's company and, truth be told, really grew to like him over the course of a few months.
She just wishes he didn't tag along with that really loud kid.
She wants to ask him out, but there is no way in hell she'd be able to. The boy is rather shy - not in the way Annie is, because she chooses to avoid social interaction. He's shy in a genuine, cute, and slightly unconventional way for a teenage male.
She's just so attracted to him, and when she's sat in the library after lunch and notices him entering the room, she has to catch his attention.
"Armin?" she speaks, and he stops in his tracks.
"Yeah?"
"Would you like to sit with me?"
He smiles. That smile. She can practically feel its warmth.
"Thanks, Annie."
He takes a seat besides her, and before she knows it, she's stopped taking notes on A Streetcar Named Desire and has diverted all her attention to what he's doing. Everything about him is so perfect and cute and sweet - from his soft blonde hair to his clear, blue eyes, to his tiny, thin hands. She's jealous of him.
She's even jealous of his handwriting. It's so much neater than hers. She's jealous of his high grades, his attractiveness, his soft, high voice. But not in a malicious way; she's grateful he exists, and she cares about him.
He's kind of a nerdy guy, very intelligent but amazing to talk to, and extremely sweet. Maybe she loves him. She's never actually been in love before, even if she tells herself she has.
"Annie?" a voice asks uneasily.
"Hmm?"
"I-is there something on my face? You're staring," Armin tells her.
"No, nothing on your face," Annie stammers. "Sorry. Just bored. And, um. Tired."
You stupid, socially awkward sod, she tells herself.
"I can give you some help with that," Armin says, pointing to the sheet of paper in front of her. "It's question 7 we had to answer, right? The long one."
"No, no, I'm fine," Annie sighs. "Um..." She doesn't want to talk about college work. All of a sudden, despite her little stutter just a moment ago, she's finding herself faced with a burst of confidence. "I'm sorry to stop you from working, but I really want to talk to you, Armin."
He nods gently and puts down his pen. "I'm listening," he says kindly. "I only have one thing due for tomorrow, anyway."
"Good," she says, her heart pounding. How can she ask this? It's so personal! He's her closest friend, isn't he?! Things are going to get so awkward between them if she-
"Armin, a-are you a virgin?"
Silence.
He's a little surprised, but as far as she can see, he's definitely not weirded out by what she's asked.
"No," he says reluctantly.
"Oh..."
Now she hates herself even more.
* * *
"I'm free until the end of the day," Annie says, after the 20 minute silence.
"Me too," Armin says.
"I'm sorry for asking that, Armin. I'm just in a spot of trouble at the moment."
"Oh?" He looks at her sincerely. Caringly. "You can tell me, Annie. I'll help you."
She covers her face as soon as she feels it heating up from the blush. "You can't help with this," she says, voice muffled. "Nobody can. Well, someone can, but I don't know who they are."
Armin can already guess, and he feels bad for her knowing someone like Annie is opening up to him like this. Annie never opens up to anyone.
"I'm insecure because... well, I turned 18 last March, and I still haven't... lost it yet. I've heard most people lose it at this age or earlier, and it's bothering me, Armin. I feel so unhappy. People look down on you if you lose it late..."
His eyes are slightly widened with sympathy. He has a mild idea of how this feels - he lost his at very late 17, and all he heard about from the guys in his year were shallow and vulgar descriptions of the poor girls they had coaxed into bed the previous weekend. It made him feel like crap.
Annie jumps when his hand cups hers. It's small and cool, very soft, and very soothing.
"You're gorgeous, Annie," he says. It's not spoken in the way other boys would express it - truthful maybe, but their intentions were never unselfish.
It takes a moment for her to process it. She's been complimented on her looks before, but she's shocked to hear it from a platonic male friend. "What?" she says, uncovering her face. "Oh my... thank you so much, Armin... thank you..."
She doesn't know what to do with herself. Is this how it feels to be a popular girl?! Or is she mistaken?
Armin frowns in concentration, dreading what he's about to ask for fear of what her reaction might be. Will she think I'm a creep? What if she actually has a boyfriend and asking about it is a bad idea? Should I even do it?
"Do you have a boyfriend, Annie?"
"No," she says instantly, completely on alert.
"Ah..." He can't ask her out! She's his friend... she'll hate him, won't she? Surely she will.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Annie asks, turning her head to hide the reddening blush. She's praising the lord they aren't sat opposite eachother.
"No. I haven't had a partner for a few months now."
"Neither have I."
Both are socially adept enough to understand what's being hinted at here, but neither is brave enough to initiate it.
"Hey... Annie?" the blonde boy says timidly.
"Y-yeah?"
"I feel like I'm attracted to you... I don't know. I'm kind of scared. I don't want to be creepy. But I just feel like we have chemistry." He hurriedly adds, "I-it's fine if you disagree, don't worry!"
She's absolutely overwhelmed.
"Armin," she says, smiling softly for what may have been the first time Armin's seen it. "Thank you."
"W-what for?!"
"I like you," she whispers, knowing full well that there was too much apologising and stammering for the conversation to not be awkward but not caring a thing about it. "You are so adorable, Armin. And kind..."
He's giggling happily. It's like an adrenaline rush, and all of a sudden he feels too wonderful to concentrate on English Literature.
* * *
They may not be dating, but there is no way Armin and Annie are simply platonic friends anymore.
"Wait, who?" Annie overhears while she's in the queue to get food. It's the loudmouth.
"I don't think she would want me to tell anyone," Armin responds to him. "I'll tell you if she gives me permission to. I don't know why you're so curious."
"So is she your girlfriend?" Eren asks.
"No, but I have strong feelings for her, and she has them for me. Please don't keep going on about it."
Annie scoffs quietly. They never change, she thinks.
Food is apparently banned in the library, but ever since that old hag stopped working there nobody's got into trouble for it, so she heads upstairs and waits by the table that she and Armin had arranged to meet at.
She doesn't mind that he's bringing Eren. She figures it'd save some explaining.
"Is this the girl?" Eren asks, his mouth full.
Armin nods and reaches over to gently tug on Annie's hand, squeezing it. Any kind of physical contact makes her feel wonderful.
"Isn't she in your English class?"
"Yeah," Armin replies. "Surely it was obvious who it was, Eren. You've seen me talking to her ever since we started here."
"I didn't know you had a crush on her!"
"It developed somewhat recently," Armin admits.
"How long you been dating?"
"Like I said, we aren't dating!" Armin groans, and Annie giggles slightly.
She doesn't speak much at all over the next forty minutes, but in reality she doesn't need to. She takes out her folder and begins to start on some homework when her phone suddenly makes a sound.
She glances up, confused as to why it's from Armin when he's sat next to her.
Can't say this aloud bc Eren'll take the piss, but if you'd feel comfortable, you can come to my place after college
Her heart practically skips a beat.
Yes please, she types, and Armin smiles and nods at her when he reads it.
She's never felt so anxious, but at the same time, she's never felt so elated.
* * *
It's a good thing Mikasa is mature.
"Eren," she says, tugging on his sleeve. "You can't go prying into other people's business."
"But Armin's my best friend."
"He doesn't have to share anything with you that he doesn't want to," the dark haired beauty says.
Eren scoffs. "It's obvious what they're gonna do anyway, right? Armin's dad works late on Thursdays and his mum works until after six anyways. And his grandfather's always out fishing or whatever, yeah? I just wanted to say good luck."
Armin facepalms.
"Eren," Mikasa continues. "Leave them alone."
Annie is overcome with a huge wave of relief when they finally step outside. Eren and his adoptive sister took the bus, and Annie and Armin didn't live too far apart, so they could have some peace.
"Hey, Annie," the boy says softly, taking hold of her hand. "Are you sure this is alright? I'm worried you'll regret it later or something."
"Why would I regret it? You, er... have precautions, right?" She doesn't have to clarify.
Armin nods. "Of course. But that's not what I mean. Are you sure you want this, Annie?"
"I do," she says quietly.
"Okay. I'm just scared, because... we've been friends for quite a while, you know? And... it's gonna be weird talking to eachother after we've done this... right?"
"No," Annie responds. "Not at all. I don't just want to be friends anymore."
Armin smiles happily. "Honestly? Same," he agrees, his cheeks tinted pink. "It may have been awkward at the time, but I'm glad you asked me that random question a couple weeks ago, Annie."
Same here, she thinks, unable to stop herself from smiling.
She hasn't properly smiled or laughed in a long, long time.
* * *
His house is a lot bigger than hers considering four people live there. It makes her wonder how much money Armin has. No wonder he's always wearing expensive clothes, she thinks.
He helps her out of her coat, hanging it up for her and placing her bag and folders beside his, by the side of the sofa.
"God... sorry to ask, but... are you guys rich or something?" she asks.
"Rich?" he repeats, taken aback. "Umm... I wouldn't say rich... just comfortable. My parents have always worked hard, and so have I. I used to have a lot of part time jobs when I was younger."
"Ah. Your house is really beautiful," she tells him as he guides her upstairs. Even the landing is huge, and when she peeks into the bathroom, she realises it's bigger than the living room.
"It's through here," Armin says, opening his bedroom door. As expected, his room is large, and beautifully decorated: pastel blue murals accentuate the walls, a whole shelf decorated with figurines and merchandise from that one really popular anime and manga series.
He squeezes her hand and lies down beside her on the bed, hugging her from behind.
He's patient in his actions and intent, and so is she. She's cuddled with some of her ex-lovers in the past, but it was never as sweet and comforting as this.
It's the first time she's noticed, but Armin's actually quite short for a boy. She's only 5"0 herself.
He hugs her a little tighter, wrapping his arms around her middle and gently rubbing them up and down her abdomen. She sighs happily in response, loving the way Armin is so gentle and caring with her, loving the way he's so considerate and sweet.
He leans closer to her ear and whispers, "I love you, Annie."
She shudders a little, ever so slightly aroused by the feeling of his warm breath against her skin. "I love you," she replies happily, tilting her head back to lean further into him.
He laughs gently, planting kisses on her neck. She's never been kissed on the neck before, and it's different to being kissed on the lips: more exciting somehow, but just as intimate, and she can't get enough.
By the time her skin is soaked with love, she's panting, full to the brim with the heat of desire.
"Armin," she whines needily. It’s a side to her that Armin’s never seen before. She’s let her guard down.
"It's too soon," he tells her. "It'll hurt."
"I feel ready."
"We need to wait a little longer," he whispers, turning her onto her back and facing her. "Trust me."
She sighs, but nods reluctantly. If it's something Armin has said, then it has to be right.
Nervously, he lowers his hand and cups her breast through her clothing, watching her face intently.
When she leans back and closes her eyes, he knows it'd be best for him to carry on if he knows what's good for him.
He starts to gently rub and knead the soft mounds of flesh through her clothes, smiling when she gives a tiny sound of pleasure. No words are spoken, which, surprisingly, eliminates any awkwardness that may have been there in the first place.
“They’re soft,” the boy gently remarks, his heart racing.
“Mmm,” Annie sighs. “It... feels nice.”
“Good,” Armin whispers, lowering himself until he’s holding her close, their cheeks pressed together. He gently drags his fingertips along her skin, sending little tingles down her spine and forcing her to writhe ever so slightly beneath him. She feels... thrilled.
She gives a slight gasp when Armin shifts his leg off of her, making her more comfortable. She can feel his erection against her thigh - warm, hard, and somehow comforting, to know that he’s just as aroused as she is. She almost never wants him to move. She’s content just laying here with his warm, soft body atop hers, his breath gently tickling her neck as he holds her close.
“You’re actually really short, aren’t you, Annie?” Armin notices. He giggles, rubbing his hands along her sides and stopping to caress her hips. “Not that I’m much taller.”
“You’re cute,” she pants, staring at him lustfully. “Really... really cute...”
“You think?” the small blonde boy asks softly. He doesn’t break their gaze, using the eye contact to distract her while he begins to stroke the palm of his hand between her legs. She parts them in invitation, practically begging him to touch her.
“Armin!” she sighs eventually. “Just get me out of my clothes.”
“Not yet.”
He smirks, and she wants to find a way to annoy him back, but she just can’t. She loves him. She doesn’t know why she hadn’t realised it earlier.
She’s taken by surprise when a small, cool and very soft hand slips beneath her jeans and underwear to press against the sensitive mound of flesh. She blushes slightly, wishing she’d shaved last night, but Armin barely even notices the stubble against her skin. He’s way more concerned with pleasing her to be focused on anything else.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he suddenly says, sitting upright and rubbing at her entrance with a single finger. She’s absolutely soaked, but something about her quiet nature is making him apprehensive.
“You could never hurt me, Armin.”
“No, I mean... you know what I mean,” he grins, grazing his finger over her clitoris and feeling himself grow harder when she moans. “I’ll be gentle, anyway. Just tell me if it hurts. I can’t have you in pain, Annie.”
“I know,” she smiles, wishing Armin wouldnt be such a tease. Is he like this with everyone? Why is one part of me actually loving it?
He slides off her clothes, hand still pressed against her. He pulls it away to see that it’s coated in her fluids, slippery and clear like egg whites. It’s turning him on.
“Can I finger you?”
Annie nods enthusiastically, but at the same time draws up her legs in embarrassment. It’s suddenly hit her that this is Armin she’s doing this with - the clever, sweet and innocent blonde angel who she always speaks to at college, who she can talk to about anything. And right now he has his finger pushed up inside her, pressing and stroking against the slippery ridges of her walls.
He gazes at her as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, as if she needs protecting.
They don’t break eye contact when he pushes a second finger inside her, observing her reactions, trying to tell whether or not she’s enjoying it without asking her. She’s laid back against his bed, eyes lidded, platinum blonde hair sticking messily out of the small bun at the back of her head, not giving a shit about whether or not she currently looks presentable. But that doesn’t matter either way, because she looks like a fucking goddess.
“It’s... really tight,” Armin says, stroking her hips with his other hand. “I’m worried about hurting you.”
“I can take it,” she says, hardly even registering his words. “Don’t even care if I bleed. All I’m worried about is messing up your bed.”
“I’ll try to stop that happening,” Armin tells her. “I don’t want to make you bleed. Not because of my bedsheets, but because I’d feel so guilty about causing you damage.”
“It’ll heal. Might not even bleed at all.”
“I’m still going to be really, really gentle.”
She lays back and sighs as he gets up. She closes her eyes, her heart thumping inside her chest. She’s been anxious about this moment for years now, ever since she’d heard other girls’ horror stories about how painful it was and about the blood and tearing. She was smart enough to know they were exaggerating, but she was also smart enough to know that the chances of her being in pain were reasonable.
She feels the bed dip down where Armin’s currently knelt in front of her. She wants to look, to see him. He’s so adorable and attractive, and she wants to see his body, but for some reason she’s scared. She’s scared that she’ll stop loving him for who he is, and instead will only want him because she likes the way he looks.
“Let me take this off for you,” he whispers, leaning down to pull off her top. “It’s warm in here.”
“Hate summer,” Annie murmurs, and Armin laughs kindly as he strips her bare.
“And all this time you were hiding this amazing body,” Armin says, hardly able to believe it. “I knew you were cute, but I’m still in awe.”
She slowly opens her eyes to see him above her, big blue eyes gazing into hers lovingly. He’s really slim, a little more muscular than she thought he’d be, but slender all the same. Graceful, even. Somehow she perceives him to be more feminine than she is, and she can’t get enough of his body.
“Annie,” Armin says softly, taking hold of her thighs. “Let me lift your legs.”
“Yeah,” she complies, raising them until her feet rest on his shoulders. He never stops looking at her, still shocked that this is even happening, but absolutely loving it all the same.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
She nods eagerly.
“Try to relax, okay?”
“I will,” she says as Armin squeezes his fingers around hers.
He stares at her as he pushes into her, breathing more rapidly when he feels himself sink into her hot tightness. She gives a strained groan, frowning and squeezing his hand, wishing it didn’t have to sting so much.
“It hurts,” she suddenly gasps, and he stops pressing forwards.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently, holding her close. “I’m so sorry about the pain, Annie. I’ll stop if you want.”
“No, I really want it, I swear. It just hurts now. I-I’ll get used to it.”
He nods slowly, feeling sorry for her.
He proceeds to penetrate her virgin hole, raising a hand to stroke comfortingly along her head when she begins to gasp with pain again. It’s certainly nothing she’d describe as “excruciating”, but it is painful, and she wants it to stop hurting as soon as possible. It stings and aches, and every now and then she’ll look down just to check she’s not bleeding.
“Ngh,” she vocalises when he bottoms out. He hits something within her that sends a sharp pain through her abdomen, something unexpected and slightly unnerving.
“Sorry!” Armin apologises, pulling back a little. “Crap... I didn’t know I’d actually hit it, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Annie replies, trying to loosen herself up a little to stop it stinging so much. Her cervix still aches quite a bit after Armin had hit it.
“Can I move?” the young man asks, and she nods. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
He tightens his grip on her hands, exhaling as he gently pulls out of her and then pushes back in. He’s sure it’s just his imagination, but her muscles are locked so tightly around his organ that he actually feels as if it could cut off the blood supply.
“Does that hurt?” he asks, pushing in for the third time.
“Less than before,” she replies, finally relaxing properly. “It still stings, but I can take it.”
“Good,” he says gently.
He begins a slow, calm rhythm inside of her, looking down at her relaxed face, listening to her every breath, processing the way she tightens around him occasionally and flinches when he goes too fast.
He chuckles sweetly at her. “You like it?” he asks, smiling at her.
“Mmm,” she replies, smiling back, eyes catching the light.
He increases the speed of his thrusts, pushing into her a little harder when a sound of pleasure escapes from her throat. She feels odd. A good kind of odd. She knew sex was supposed to be pleasurable, but it’s a kind of pleasure she really can’t put her finger on, something you can’t compare to anything else or recreate.
“Ah,” Armin suddenly breathes, tilting his head forwards, golden fringe lightly sweeping Annie’s forehead. He feels wonderful. He’s scared that she might still be in a little pain, but now that he knows she’s enjoying what he’s doing to her, he feels relieved. Excited.
“Oh my god,” she suddenly speaks, eyes opening wide. “Oh. My god.”
“W-what?” Armin asks worriedly, ceasing to thrust inside her.
“That, just now. It felt amazing.”
“Huh? I didn’t do anything different.”
“You did. You hit something. Like a patch of nerves or something.”
It suddenly dawns on him what she’s talking about. “Ah,” he says, taking hold of her hips and beginning his steady pace again. “I’ll try and do it again, if I can. I don’t know, it’s kinda hard to do.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Annie says dreamily. “It’s... oh... fuck...”
“What?”
“Oh god.” She moans softly. “Anything you do to me is good enough, Armin. It’s good enough because it’s you.”
* * *
She falls asleep. She can’t help herself: she’s tired, and despite not having reached climax, she feels as though she’s exhausted every muscle in her body. She hardly even did any of the work, and here she is, in a heap tucked into Armin’s bed.
He hears the front door open from downstairs, as well as a pair of voices. My parents, he thinks absentmindedly. It’s not very often they come home together.
Armin wanders downstairs after an internal conflict over whether or not it was a good idea to leave Annie up there on her own with the possibility of his parents discovering her.
“Hey,” he greets them, hoping they won’t ask why he looks as if he’s gotten dressed in thirty seconds (which he has).
“Hi,” his mother greets him, eyeing his messy hair but not commenting on it.
He decides to come clean. “I-I have a girl over...”
His dad rolls his eyes but grins. “Armin,” he says. “It’s your business. You know by now that we trust you.”
“Who is it?” his mother asks.
“Annie.”
“Annie? Isn’t she the girl you said you’d never be more than friends with?” She laughs lightly.
He sighs with embarrassment. “I wish I’d have just kept quiet.”
He dashes back upstairs, face flushed. He loves his family, he really does - but he never knows how to act around them.
“Hey,” he says, gently shaking Annie’s shoulder. She awakes, surprised to see that Armin had tucked her into bed to keep her warm.
She looks around in a panic. “Crap... what time is it?”
“You were asleep for less than ten minutes,” Armin laughs, leaning in to kiss her. She accepts it gladly, and it’s at that point that they realise there is no way they can treat this as a one off.
“Love you,” she says, pulling Armin into bed with her. There’s no way he can refuse, even if it means he’ll fall asleep too, which will mess up his sleeping schedule.
“I love you,” he says kindly, cupping the side of her face and kissing her once more.
He feels as if he’d give anything for the two of them to remain in this position forever. They can’t, of course: Armin’s parents are back, and if him greeting them while looking a mess wasn’t awkward enough, the thought of wandering downstairs together with the knowledge of what they’d just done was even worse.
And, of course, this isn’t some work of fiction. It’s not like a book or film or piece of fanfiction where everything always goes smoothly without a shadow of a doubt. The bond between Annie and Armin is realistic, and it’s almost tangible.
They should have admitted this was real a long while ago.