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Annie loves to watch Eren give head.
As much as she’ll never admit it to anyone, she’s always had a special fondness for Eren’s enthusiasm - whether he’s shelving or carrying boxes or reminiscing loudly and drunkenly about “that time when Mikasa took down two football players in a parking lot and it was like oh my god you are going to be arrested we are all going to be arrested” - and the readiness with which he takes to swallowing his best friend’s dick is no exception.
She loves the way Eren looks between her boyfriend’s legs, hands clutched around Armin's thighs for dear life as he buries his nose in dark blond curls and moans around a mouthful of cock. Armin’s hands are making a mess of Eren’s thick hair, tugging and curling it around his fingers, lower lip clenched firmly between his teeth.
Every time, it looks like this moment is everything Armin has ever wanted.
Annie could be considered somewhat of a voyeur. She rubs her fingers against her clit and presses them between her legs as Armin opens his eyes and looks at her. He’s always been able to read her better than anyone else.
“Come here,” he says, voice soft and breathy, a plea and a command all at once.
If there’s one things she’s still grateful to the ballet academy for, it’s the exercises that helped and still help her keep her core muscles strong. Because staying upright on her knees while Armin tongues her within an inch of insanity is a feat few people can manage.
Not that she’ll ever give anyone else a chance to try it.
-
This is a true story: Annie has never come during sex with another person. She can get herself off just fine; she knows her body, she knows how it works, how it bends, how it breaks.
She’s never liked to break in front of other people.
It’s like losing control, and as much as Annie would like people to believe that she never has a moment of insecurity or doubt, the intensity of her orgasms are sometimes enough to shock her into the slightest tears. She’s read enough of Reiner’s shitty romance novels to know that this is supposed to be an explosion of passion and true feeling, but it frightens her.
The thought of sharing that with another person has always been somewhere close to the realm of completely forbidden.
The first few times they’re together, she doesn’t use her vibrator or her fingers. To his credit, Armin doesn’t make her reassure him that he hasn't done something wrong. He’s not afraid of her or his sexual inexperience. What he does is start checking out books from the sexuality section of the store. He asks her hypothetical questions that don’t require answers, and respects when she doesn’t want to say anything.
He kisses her one day, in the cooking alcove, and presses their foreheads together. And then, very quietly, so only the baking shelves can hear, he asks her if she wants to watch he and Eren have sex.
Anyone else would have gotten socked in the face.
Armin is different.
She loves him. She knew going into this that he loved Eren too. And she knows he only asks because he loves her as well. Because he’d do anything for her. Because he trusts her completely with every truth he has.
And watching Eren on all fours, losing total control - groaning, melting, drooling into a pillow while Armin fucks him soundly, hair dripping from his short ponytail and sticking to his cheek with sweat makes her feel like maybe coming apart under hands that will put her back together even as they undo her and never see her as anything less… maybe that would be all right.
-
She’s been with Eren alone since then. They play Norwegian Black Metal and she edges him until he pleads with her, screams “FUCK, ANNIE!” over and over at her until Reiner bangs on the ceiling with a broom (hypocrite). His huge green eyes are bright and intoxicating. She almost comes. She could eat him alive.
Armin takes her to a sex shop and they buy a small bullet vibrator together. The first time they try it, he says things to her as his hands slide up her back that she won’t ever repeat, that she keeps locked away in the deepest parts of her where only he is allowed to go and little by little, she lets him unfold her. That time she’s so close she aches for hours after. He’ll be the one to consume her.
But when it really happens is the night Eren unsubtly comes into his and Armin’s bedroom one night on the cheerful and artless pretense of “Just getting some socks!” she can taste his come in her mouth and hear Armin’s gasps in her ear quicken. It was supposed to be her time alone with Armin, but the look on Eren’s face is irresistible. In the end, he’ll devour them both.
This is when Eren ends up between Armin’s legs, Annie’s slick in his mouth with his boyfriend’s cock, when Armin holds out his hand to her and. This is a true story: this is when it happens.
-
In spite of his forceful upthrusts, Annie can usually hold herself up easily when she rides Eren, but this time she lets Armin keep her steady and Eren hold her hips hard enough to bruise. Armin holds her from behind, his own cock between the cheeks of her ass and grinding against her, wet with his own precome and Eren’s saliva. He holds the vibrator against her with the same careful calculating determination with which he does everything that matters to him. She loves him for it, for the way he whispers “Annie” into her ear, and in the same breath, “You’re safe.”
His free hand holds one of hers. She digs the nails of the other into Eren’s stomach.
Things have happened to Annie that she didn’t understand. There have been times when she was sure that these things could have been change, stopped, if she only knew how. She promised herself that she would never not know how again.
And yet now? Right now. Right here.
“I don’t know how,” she says, turning her head so her bangs fall into her face. She can hardly breathe. She can hardly feel anything anymore because she’s feeling too much. Control is everything, control is her method and her motto, crinkling in around the edges now like burning paper.
Eren makes some sort of noise: a laugh, a groan, a name, none or all three. Then he lets go of her hips with one hand and places it on top of hers. She’s grounded by both of them on all points; the electric current building inside her finding a safe space to release the energy, and it’s enough to distract her so that when Armin squeezes her other hand, when his lips actually graze her the side of her cheek right where it melts into her ear and gently says “Annie, fall,” ...she does.
She screams the whole way down.
-
Annie opens her eyes in a Mikasa’s room. It takes her a moment to process what’s going on -the walls are a different color, the comforter pulled up to her chin has the “clean linen” detergent scent Eren and Armin use but without the extra notes of sweat and come- but she quickly calms down the spark of panic from waking up.
“You’re awake.”
Mikasa sits at the desk a few feet away, not even facing her initially, but as Annie watches, she shuts the book she’s been reading and gets up, coming to the bed and sitting down on the very edge.
“Here,” she says, holding out a glass of water to Annie.
Annie slowly sits up, gathering the comforter to her chest out of some sense of...propriety? Caution? She’s not sure. It turns out to be unnecessary, since apparently at some point someone put a large t-shirt on her. Her thoughts are quickly trying to route themselves into known paths, bring the world back into proper controlled focus. She takes the glass and notices her hand is trembling. The first sip is tentative but then she realizes she’s absolutely thirsty and drains the rest of it.
She hands it back to Mikasa.
“Thank you,” she offers, her voice husky. She clears her throat.
They’re quiet as they regard each other. From the day they met, Annie and Mikasa have been sizing each other up, figuring out where they run parallel to each other and where they mirror one another in two different lives. Both alpha females guarding their respective packs, Annie has always believed they had some kind of silent understanding: those are yours, these are mine.
But this is true: the lines that divided their territories are broken now.
“How are you feeling?” Mikasa finally asks, her voice softer than Annie might have imagined.
Annie doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t remember how she got from being naked between Armin and Eren to being semi-dressed and alone with Mikasa. She looks down at the shirt she’s wearing, soft and well-worn with “WEST MARIA HIGH SCHOOL BAND” in faded block letters. It slowly occurs to her that it’s Mikasa’s shirt.
Then she realizes Mikasa understands: love, passion, fear, need, acceptance. Control. All of it and more. Mikasa’s map of the world is different, but it’s lead her to this place, to her and Annie in this moment. The experiences are not the same, but the outcome is.
Then Annie can say, quietly, to the only person who will know what this confession truly means: “I was so scared.”
Mikasa smiles softly, reaching forward to tuck some stray hair behind Annie’s ear, the last place she remembers Armin’s touch.
“It’s all right,” Mikasa tells her. “It’s safe here."
-
“It was incredible,” Armin tells her later, as she dries her hair post-shower. “You were so intense.”
“You scared the garbage out of me!” Eren breathes out in a rush when she finally comes downstairs. “I thought maybe we killed you!”
“It would take more than that,” she replies, even though her legs are still shaking. She knows Armin can tell.
Mikasa watches from the top of the staircase as they each kiss her goodbye, and nods at Annie when she looks up.
She makes it home, to her own room, her own bed, her own well-worn white hoodie before she collapses into helpless sobs of terror. Of relief. Of gratitude. She cries until she starts to laugh, and it feels so good.
She goes down to the other apartment for dinner. Bertholdt makes her favorite black bean and cheese enchiladas. Reiner comments that she looks a little flushed and asks what she found so funny earlier.
“It’s nothing,” she says.
Nobody needs to know that it’s everything.
-
This is a true story: sometimes on days when it’s too much, too good, too far to have fallen, Annie lays or sleeps in Mikasa’s bed until she feels in control.
Here’s another one: the times where she allows herself to not be in control happen more often, little by little. With both of them. Alone with Armin (never alone with Eren for some reason but it’s still fun, so neither of them complains). Watching them fuck over Skype while she lays on her bed with her own vibrator, using it in ways she’ll never teach anyone, because some things are for her alone.
And then there’s this:
There’s a night where they go hard, they finish hard, and Annie doesn’t go to get up to go to Mikasa’s room. Eren has fallen asleep almost immediately, and Armin moves to let her up, but she shakes her head.
He strokes her cheek with all the care in the world. He's smart. Maybe he knows and maybe he doesn’t know how deeply and closely she keeps all of this. How much it means to be with Armin, with Eren, with both of them, with Mikasa when they take quiet sanctuary together. How much it means to give up control to them. She loves them for it.
“Are you okay?” he asks as runs her fingers tenderly across his lips, tracing his words to find their deepest meaning.
“I’m okay,” she says, and this is the truth.