
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/905136.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Shingeki_no_Kyojin_|_Attack_on_Titan
  Relationship:
      Armin_Arlert/Eren_Yeager
  Character:
      Armin_Arlert, Eren_Yeager
  Additional Tags:
      Titan!Eren, Mouth_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-30 Words: 1264
****** In Which Armin Has the Weirdest Boner for Titan!Eren's Mouth ******
by KageSora
Summary
     Armin, after having scolded Eren about using him as candy, finds that
     Eren has stuck to licking instead. But for some reason Armin can’t
     forget the experience—and he quickly stops lying to himself about how
     good it had felt. (Sequel to "Titans and Puppy Dog Kisses")
Notes
     I'm so, so, so sorry about the title I just gave up after spending
     like 2 hours getting steadily more and more disproportionately anger
     at my inability to think of a title and just gave up.
Heat.  That was definitely a sensation Armin Arlert was acutely aware of.  A
powerful warmth completely surrounding him.  Smothering him.  But somehow, it
wasn’t unpleasant.  The second sensation that was overwhelming his senses was
the wetness, the liquid washing over him, being rubbed all over him, pooling
around him.  The third was the powerful muscle moving beneath him as the titan
flexed his tongue, as it wrapped itself around Armin’s body, turning him over
and tasting every inch of him.  But there was no fear here, why would he fear
Eren?  The tongue moved around him again, gently pinning him up against the
titan’s teeth and brushed against him, earning a gasp as it slipped between his
legs.  Armin shuddered as it moved him again, stroking along his naked
body—wait where had his clothes gone?  Hadn’t he just been wearing them?  Armin
frowned, sensing something wasn’t quite right…

The blond sat up, panting a little, blinking to clear away the dream-memory.
 Armin flopped back down, letting out a sigh that trailed off into a frustrated
whine, cursing silently that it hadn’t been real.  He regretted scolding Eren
for his behavior, as Eren hadn’t attempted to put Armin in his mouth since
though he’d been in Titan form a few times.  Armin had been more annoyed than
anything at the time, but it hadn’t been altogether unpleasant, and he’d slowly
found himself thinking about it more and more—it didn’t hurt that the others
questioned him quite a bit at first, demanding to know what it had been like.
 After all—how often do you get to talk to somebody who spent enough time in a
titan’s mouth to get wrinkled skin from the saliva-bath and lived to tell the
tale?
These memory-dreams were visiting the blond’s sleep more frequently, and slowly
becoming more and more explicit in nature.  Part of it horrified Armin—he’d
seen for himself how the titans devoured people, he’d nearly been eaten alive
himself.  He’d seen Eren consumed.  And yet…  He’d felt no fear, neither during
times he was licked nor the one time he’d been inside of Eren’s mouth.  And
now…  Now he felt a curiosity, a longing.  Armin wondered if it was because it
was Eren, his childhood friend, the one who would stand up to bullies to
protect him, the one who had been willing to—and, as far as either of them had
realized at the time—actually sacrificed himself to save the blond’s life.
 Eren, who was more dear to him than anyone else.
But whatever the case—be it because it was Eren, or because the trauma had
finally caused him to snap and develop a twisted attraction to that which he
feared deeply (namely, being eaten alive by a titan)—Armin found the changes in
his dream-memories to be more than fascinating, and more than disappointing
when they ended.  Though the frustration was probably because he now often
awoke flushed and sweaty, breathing unevenly, and as aroused as he could ever
remember being.
Normally, he was more than a little disgusted with himself, and would do
everything he could to try and either go back to sleep or think about something
else while he dealt with the “problem" he usually awoke with.
This night, however, Armin was finally done lying to himself about what he
wanted.  He carefully reconstructed the memory in his mind as it had played
out, only he allowed his imagination to take hold instead of the incident
ending where it had in reality.  He let a hand drift down, slipping below the
waistline of his boxers as he imagined a different ending, bringing his other
hand up to silence himself as he stroked himself.
He let out a muffled moan, imagining it was Eren’s tongue rubbing against his
painfully stiff dick instead of his hand, imagining it was saliva being wiped
across his heated flesh instead of precum.  He shuddered, imagining himself
pressed up against Eren’s teeth, his titanic friend’s tongue still roaming over
his body, slipping up between his legs and a strangled whine managed to escape
him as he tightened his grip.
Armin imagined being scooped up, almost tossed about in the colossal mouth, the
darkness leaving him with his other senses enhanced—all the better for the
acute awareness of everything happening at that exact moment (as far as Armin
was currently concerned, it wasn’t just in his mind anymore).  He drew in a
shaky breath tossing his head back as he dragged a thumb over his slit, teasing
it—in his mind, it was Eren’s tongue again, and he was squirming, bucking
against it, slipping on the titan’s spit pooling around him, dripping onto him
and a part of him thought he should be disgusted but the rest of him was just
too far gone to care.
The blond let out a chocked groan, pressing his hand more firmly to his mouth
as he quickened his stroking, breathing hard, imagining himself being pressed
softly—there was pressure but not enough to hurt, no, Eren would never hurt
him—to the roof of the titan’s mouth, squirming and moaning Eren’s name.
 Begging.  For what, Armin wasn’t even entirely sure—release?  Something else?
 Both?
Armin squirmed again, trembling, he was close—so very close.  He bit down on
his hand, stifling the noises managing to escape again, and all he could think
about was the heat and the wetness and how it was Eren’s mouth, how it
was Eren’stongue teasing his body, how Eren was being so gentle with him
despite the immense power Armin could feel in the slick, red muscle moving
around and under him, and just that it was Eren who was in such absolute
control of if he lived or died—with almost no effort he could be crushed
against the roof of the titan’s mouth, or pushed between the teeth to be bitten
into pieces, or forced down the titan’s throat.  But because it was Eren he
knew that he was safe, that nothing would ever harm him while he was
within Eren, no matter what, because this was Eren and Erenalways protected him
and Armin was groaning that name—the only name he could ever imagine escaping
him in such a strangled, desperate tone—as he spilled himself into his hand.
Armin slowly moved the hand from his mouth, pulling his other hand out of his
boxers and wiping it on the sheets, shaking and struggling to control his
breathing as his heart raced.  As the blond finally calmed down, he rolled
over, readjusting his blanket, and let out a pitiful whine because he knew that
it would always remain something he could only imagine.
—-
The next morning, he found Eren before they set out for the day—a very rare
free day where they were allowed to do what they could to relax from all the
horrors and stress they endured (after all, mental health was important and
rather hard to preserve in their line of work—and Armin already suspected he
was losing his grip on sanity), and one that he and Eren were planning to spend
by themselves (Mikasa had’t been thrilled, but at the desperate look from Armin
she’d seemed to catch on—at least, she’d relented, and Armin could have sworn
he’d seen the faintest of smiles crossing her lips before she’d turned away).
 He pulled Eren aside, wrapping his arms securely around the other male, and
whispered into his ear.
"Next time, I want you to use me like candy again~"
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