⚡︎ CW : explicit , oral fem!recieving , Armin being a nerd except maybe a little bit too educated in this field…
“wait…” you breathe out, realistically though you didn’t want him to wait… not really.
“You don’t have to um… guide me”
Armin murmurs; breath stuttering as his lips press soft tentative kisses to your inner thigh. “I’ve uh. done research… kinda...” He’s already on his knees between your thighs, soft curls brushing the softness of your skin as he adjusts your skirt like he’s handling a rare manuscript. You don’t even remember how he managed to get your legs over his shoulders. One second he was shyly fumbling with his glasses after you joked about how you “bet that tongue ring isn’t just for kissing”and now? Now… you’re biting your fist in his bed while he moans into your cunt like he’s starving for it. Except he’s not entirely smooth, not at first. his movements are a little eager and messy, like he’s trying to remember everything hes seen online. you can feel his nervousness in the way his fingers twitch against your legs; every time you make a sound his whole face goes pink. But he doesn’t stop.
The metal ball of his piercing glides over your clit with a precision that’s definitely not accidental. He’s been studying, maybe not bookwise… and from the way his eyes flicker up through his glasses; slightly fogged, and cheeks flushed… you know he’s proud of himself for making you look this dumb. You didn’t expect him to have one. You thought it was just some quiet nerd quirk. but now…? You’re starting to think maybe this is why he got it. Maybe he’s been waiting to do this. Or maybe hes always been this filthy underneath his quietness and AP calculus notes.
“Fuck… Armin” you gasp; thighs twitching around him. but he only holds you tighter — because he’s not ready to let you go just yet.
His finger tips dig into your thighs, hard enough to leave faint crescent shaped marks as if he to memorises you through pressure alone. grounding you as he buries his tongue between your folds. He holds you open, wide and trembling. not with confidence, but with panic — like some part of him still can’t believe he has you like this; terrified youll close up before he gets to taste every part of you. his tongue drags along your folds like he’s underlining every sensitive spot. Over and over. rhythmic. methodical. almost academic. you half expect him to pull back and explain the science behind how good he’s making you feel, but he doesn’t stop to gloat. He just eats. messy, reverent and greedy. And now? now all you can think about is when the fuck this nerd boy with a Tolkien tote bag learn to do this with his mouth.
