Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re the loud, outgoing president of the university anime club—always organizing events, hyping cosplay shoots, and dragging everyone into late-night chaos. nerd!Armin—quiet club treasurer, glasses-wearing Attack on Titan lore expert who blushes if anyone looks at him too long—has been secretly obsessed with you for months. after the filthy club room night, risky rooftop, sweet dorm morning, and desperate convention tent quickie, the long convention day finally ends. exhausted but still buzzing, you both stumble into the cheap hotel room the club booked for the night. Armin is still half-wearing his Eren cosplay (harness straps loose, green cloak draped over his shoulders, shirt half-unbuttoned), and the tension that’s been building all day explodes into a slow, exhausted, multi-round celebration where your pathetic, whimpery boyfriend finally gets to worship you properly again.

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, slow & desperate multi-round sex, cosplay elements (Eren harness still on), fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary + riding + lazy doggy, subby pathetic armin, university au, hotel room after-con, lots of whimpering/begging/praise, detailed slow build-up, overstimulation, fluffy aftercare & cuddles, tired but needy vibes

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

Part 5: Late-Night After-Con Hotel Room

The convention hall lights finally dim at 10 PM, and by the time you and Armin drag your tired bodies into the cheap double room the club booked on the 12th floor, both of you are running on pure adrenaline and leftover convention energy drinks.

The room is nothing fancy — two queen beds, a tiny desk, dim bedside lamps, and a window overlooking the city lights. But right now it feels like paradise.

Armin is still in most of his Eren cosplay. The green cloak is draped loosely over his shoulders, the brown vest is unbuttoned and hanging open, white shirt half-undone with several buttons missing from the chaotic day, and the signature harness straps still crisscross his chest and waist. His hair is a complete mess, lips slightly swollen from the quickie in the changing tent earlier, and there’s a faint hickey peeking from under his collar. He looks wrecked… and ridiculously hot.

You barely get the door locked before you’re on each other.

Armin drops the bag of leftover merch with a thud and pulls you against him, kissing you deep and slow, the kind of kiss that says he’s been thinking about this exact moment since the tent. His hands slide under your skirt immediately, squeezing your ass while he whimpers softly into your mouth.

“I’ve been hard for hours,” he confesses breathlessly between kisses, voice hoarse from talking all day. “Every time I looked at you today I remembered how you felt in the tent… how you let me cum inside you with all those people right outside…”

You push him backward until he sits on the edge of the bed. The green cloak pools around him like a cape. You climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, and grind down slowly on the very obvious bulge still straining his cosplay pants.

“Poor baby,” you coo, nipping at his bottom lip. “My needy nerd couldn’t stop thinking about filling me up again, huh?”

He nods frantically, glasses long gone (he switched back to them after the con), lenses already fogging up. “Please… I need you. I don’t even care how tired I am — I need to be inside you again.”

You take your time undressing each other, but you leave most of his Eren cosplay on. The harness stays strapped across his chest. The cloak stays draped over his shoulders. It makes him look like a desperate, fallen Survey Corps soldier who just survived the day and now only wants to worship you.

He lays you down on the bed first, crawling between your legs like he’s starving. He spends a long time between your thighs — tongue and two fingers working you open slowly while he whimpers praises against your pussy.

“You’re still so wet… still full of my cum from the tent… I can taste both of us… fuck, I love this so much…”

He makes you cum once on his tongue, thighs shaking around his head, before he finally crawls up and sinks into you in deep, slow missionary. The harness straps press against your chest as he rocks into you, face buried in your neck.

This round is exhausted but intense — long, lazy thrusts that drag against every perfect spot inside you. Armin’s whimpers are constant, soft and broken.

“Feels so good… even after everything today… you’re still so tight for me… I love you… I love you so much…”

He cums first this time, hips stuttering as he fills you again with hot, thick pulses, moaning your name like a prayer. But he doesn’t pull out. He stays buried deep, rolling his hips slowly to ride out the aftershocks while he kisses you messily.

After a few minutes of gentle grinding and soft kisses, you flip him onto his back. The green cloak spreads out beneath him like a blanket. You sink down onto his still-hard cock and ride him slow and deep, hands braced on the harness straps for leverage. Armin’s head falls back, mouth open in a constant stream of whimpers and broken moans.

“Look at me,” you whisper.

His eyes snap open, glassy and adoring, watching you bounce on his cock while the Eren harness digs into his skin. His hands grip your hips, guiding you gently even as his thighs start trembling from overstimulation.

“I’m gonna cum again— hah— please don’t stop— I want to feel you cum around me while I’m still wearing this stupid outfit—”

You ride him harder until you both fall apart together — you clenching around him, him pumping another load deep inside you with a quiet, overwhelmed sob.

The third round happens almost without words.

You’re both too tired for anything athletic, so you end up on your sides, facing each other. Armin lifts one of your legs over his hip and slides back in from behind in a lazy spooning position, the harness straps still digging into your back. His thrusts are shallow and slow, one arm wrapped around you, hand lazily playing with your tits while he kisses the back of your neck.

This one lasts the longest — just gentle, exhausted rocking, whispered “I love you”s and soft whimpers every time he bottoms out. When he cums for the third time he buries his face in your hair and cries out quietly, body shaking as he fills you one final time.

You stay connected for a long while afterward, breathing together in the dim hotel room.

Eventually Armin pulls out with a soft, reluctant sound. He disappears into the bathroom for a minute and comes back with a warm, damp towel. With gentle, careful hands he cleans you up, then himself, before collapsing back onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.

The green cloak is still half-draped over both of you like a blanket.

He tucks your head under his chin, legs tangled with yours, one hand stroking slow circles on your back.

“I can’t believe today was real,” he whispers, voice soft and sleepy. “The club room… the rooftop… this morning… the tent… and now this. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it was all just another late-night fantasy while I was jerking off to your cosplay sketch.”

You smile against his chest, tracing the lines of the harness straps still loosely buckled across his torso.

“It’s real, nerdmin,” you murmur. “And we still have the whole night… and tomorrow morning before checkout.”

Armin lets out the softest, happiest little whimper and tightens his arms around you.

“…Can we keep the harness on a little longer?” he asks shyly, cheeks burning even in the dark. “I like how it feels when you touch it while I’m inside you.”

You laugh quietly and kiss his collarbone, right above one of the straps.

“Deal. But only if you explain the entire rumbling arc to me while we cuddle… and then maybe round four when the sun comes up.”

He blushes so hard you can feel the heat on his skin, but he nods eagerly, already half-hard again just from the thought.

The city lights glow softly through the window as you both drift toward sleep — tangled together, still smelling like convention sweat and sex, his Eren cloak wrapped around you both like a promise.

Tomorrow the real world (classes, club duties, midterms) would come back.

But tonight, in this messy hotel room, nerdmin was all yours.

THE END.

anywaysss,,, here's the part 4

Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re the loud, outgoing president of the university anime club—always organizing events, hyping cosplay shoots, and dragging everyone into late-night chaos. nerd!Armin—quiet club treasurer, glasses-wearing Attack on Titan lore expert who blushes if anyone looks at him too long—has been secretly obsessed with you for months. after the filthy all-nighter in the club room, the risky rooftop session, and the slow, sweet morning marathon in his dorm, the big convention day finally arrives. you convince Armin to cosplay Eren for the club booth, but the tension between you two is unbearable. when the lines get long and the changing tent behind the booth becomes the only private space, you drag your pathetic, whimpery boyfriend in for a desperate, quick, but intense quickie while he’s still half in his Eren cosplay.

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, quickie, semi-public risk (convention changing tent), dry humping, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, standing sex + lifted leg, subby pathetic armin, university au, anime convention setting, lots of whimpering/begging, desperate & fast pace, slight exhibitionism thrill, fluffy shy aftercare

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

Part 4: Convention Day (The Changing Tent Quickie)

The convention hall is loud, bright, and overwhelming. Booths line the massive room like colorful soldiers—merch stalls, photo ops, panel signs, and the constant buzz of excited attendees in full cosplay. Your anime club booth is doing surprisingly well thanks to the giant Survey Corps banner Armin designed, the printed manga panels, and the free glitter temporary tattoos you’re handing out.

Armin is dressed as Eren Yeager.

He looks unfairly good in it.

The white button-up shirt is open at the collar, brown vest hugging his slim frame, green cloak draped over one shoulder, and the fake Survey Corps emblem pinned proudly on his chest. His blond hair is styled in that signature messy Eren look (you helped him with the wig cap earlier), and his wire-rimmed glasses are swapped for contacts today, making his wide blue eyes even more striking. The harness straps across his torso accentuate his shoulders in a way that has you staring more than you should.

He’s currently standing behind the booth table, nervously explaining the lore of the latest Attack on Titan arc to a group of freshmen while his cheeks stay permanently pink. Every time someone compliments his cosplay he stammers a soft “t-thank you” and glances at you like he’s begging for rescue.

You’ve been teasing him all morning.

Brushing against him “accidentally” while restocking stickers. Leaning in close to whisper “you look so fuckable in that harness” when no one’s looking. Watching the way his pants tighten every single time.

By midday the line for photos and freebies is long, and the convention heat is making everything stickier. Armin keeps shifting uncomfortably behind the table, trying to hide the obvious bulge the Eren cosplay pants are doing nothing to conceal.

You finally snap.

Grabbing his wrist, you lean over the table and announce loudly to the other club members, “Armin and I are going to grab more stock from the back! Be right back!”

Before he can protest, you drag him behind the booth into the small changing tent the club set up for emergency cosplay fixes. It’s a tiny fabric cube—barely big enough for two people—with a flimsy zipper door and a single folding chair inside. The noise of the convention is muffled but still audible: laughter, announcements over the speakers, footsteps passing by.

The second the zipper closes, you push Armin against the thin fabric wall. His back hits it with a soft rustle.

“Baby,” you whisper, already palming him through the cosplay pants, “you’ve been hard since we left the dorm. I can’t focus with you looking like this.”

Armin lets out a broken whimper, head falling back against the tent wall. His hands fly to your waist, fingers digging in desperately. “W-we can’t— not here— people are right outside— what if someone hears—”

You kiss him hard to shut him up. He melts instantly, moaning softly into your mouth as you grind your thigh between his legs. His cock is rock hard, straining painfully against the fabric. You can feel the wet spot already forming at the tip.

“You’re leaking just from wearing Eren’s outfit,” you tease, nipping at his bottom lip. “Pathetic. My pretty nerd can’t even handle a little cosplay without getting desperate.”

He whines, hips bucking forward into your hand. “It’s not the outfit— it’s you— you’ve been teasing me all day and I keep remembering how you rode me this morning and how full you were with my cum and—”

You drop to your knees just long enough to yank his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs out, flushed and dripping. You give him one slow lick from base to tip, tasting the salty pre-cum, before standing back up and turning around.

“Lift my skirt,” you order, bracing your hands on the folding chair in front of you.

Armin obeys with shaking hands. He flips up the short pleated skirt you’re wearing (a simple Scout Regiment-inspired outfit), pulls your panties to the side, and presses the head of his cock against your soaked entrance.

“C-can I… please?” he begs, voice cracking, forehead resting on your shoulder. “I’ll be quick— I promise— I just need to be inside you again—”

You push back. He slides in with one desperate thrust, bottoming out so deep you both have to bite back moans. The tent walls rustle dangerously with the movement.

Armin’s hips start snapping forward immediately—fast, frantic, needy strokes that make the chair creak under your hands. One arm wraps around your waist to hold you steady while the other reaches around to rub your clit in tight circles.

“F-fuck— so wet— still so full from this morning— I can feel my cum inside you— hah— you’re dripping down my balls again—”

His thrusts are short and deep, the harness straps on his chest pressing against your back every time he leans in. He’s trying so hard to stay quiet, but broken whimpers keep escaping—soft, pathetic little sounds that go straight to your core.

“Gonna— gonna cum already— I’m sorry— you feel too good— please let me fill you— please—”

You clench around him on purpose and he sobs quietly, hips stuttering as he cums hard—hot, thick spurts pumping deep inside you while his whole body trembles. He keeps grinding through it, milking every drop, whispering “thank you… thank you…” against your neck like a mantra.

You’re right behind him, biting your lip hard to stay silent as your orgasm crashes over you. The risk of someone walking by, the muffled convention noise, the way Armin is still in his Eren cosplay with the green cloak half-falling off his shoulders—it all makes it hotter.

For a few seconds you both just pant, his cock still buried inside you, cum slowly leaking down your thigh.

Armin carefully pulls out, whimpering at the loss, then drops to his knees behind you. He uses the clean wipes you keep in the tent to gently clean you up, pressing soft kisses to the back of your thigh like he’s apologizing for being so desperate.

When you both finally fix your clothes, he looks completely wrecked—hair messier than before, lips swollen, a fresh hickey barely hidden by the collar of his Eren shirt, and a blissed-out, shy smile on his face.

He zips the tent open a crack and peeks out, then turns back to you with wide eyes.

“They’re still busy at the booth,” he whispers, cheeks burning. “We… we should go back before they notice how long we were gone.”

You grin, fixing the Survey Corps emblem on his vest and stealing one last kiss.

“Later tonight, after the convention closes,” you murmur against his lips, “we’re going back to your dorm. And this time I want you to fuck me while you’re still wearing the full Eren harness. Think you can handle that, nerdmin?”

Armin lets out the softest, most pathetic whimper, already half-hard again in his cosplay pants.

“I… I think I can try,” he mumbles, hiding his burning face in your shoulder. “For you… anything.”

Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re the loud, outgoing president of the university anime club—always organizing events, hyping cosplay shoots, and dragging everyone into late-night chaos. nerd!Armin—quiet club treasurer, glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, Attack on Titan lore expert who blushes if you even say his name too loud—has been secretly crushing on you for an entire semester. after the all-nighter turned filthy in the club room (round 1 on the carpet) and then risky on the rooftop (round 2 against the railing), you both sneak back to his dorm just as the sky starts to lighten. what follows is a slow, sweet, face-to-face marathon where shy, whimpery Armin finally gets to worship you properly in his own bed… with all the time in the world and zero chance of getting caught.

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, slow & sweet missionary, face-to-face intimacy, fingering, nipple sucking, p in v, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, riding + missionary rounds, subby pathetic armin, university au, anime club setting, lots of whimpering/begging/praise, detailed slow build-up, fluffy aftercare + cuddles, morning sex

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

Part 3: His Dorm Room (Morning After the All-Nighter)

The campus is still quiet when you and Armin finally slip into his single dorm on the second floor of the east wing. The sky outside the window is that soft pre-dawn grey, the kind that makes everything feel a little unreal. His roommate is gone for the whole weekend, so the room is completely yours—walls covered in neatly framed Attack on Titan posters, shelves lined with perfectly alphabetized manga volumes, a small Mikasa plushie sitting on the pillow like a silent witness. The air smells like his vanilla body wash, fresh laundry, and the faint trace of printer ink from the club room.

Armin’s hand is still laced tightly with yours, fingers trembling just a little as he locks the door behind you. His beige hoodie is crooked, blond hair a total disaster, glasses slightly askew from the rooftop wind. There’s a visible hickey blooming on his collarbone and dried cum on the inside of his sweatpants, but he doesn’t seem to care. He just looks at you like you’re the only real thing in the entire universe.

“You… you really want to keep going?” he whispers, voice hoarse and shy, cheeks already pink again. “I mean— we’ve already… twice… and it’s almost morning and I know I’m probably a mess but I—”

You cut him off by pushing him gently backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He sits down with a soft huff, wide blue eyes staring up at you through fogged lenses.

“I want you in a real bed,” you tell him, climbing into his lap and kissing him slow and deep. “I want to see your face the whole time. No rushing. No hiding. Just you and me.”

Armin melts instantly. His hands slide up under your cropped hoodie, gentle and reverent, thumbs brushing the undersides of your tits like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you. The kiss turns softer, sweeter—tongues sliding lazily, little sighs and whimpers escaping him every time you rock against the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

You take your time undressing him. Pulling his hoodie off, kissing every inch of pale skin you reveal. He shivers when you mouth at his nipples, sucking lightly until they’re hard and he’s whimpering your name under his breath. When you finally push his sweatpants and boxers down, his cock springs free—still slick from the rooftop, flushed dark and leaking at the tip.

He’s surprisingly brave this time. He helps you out of your own clothes, hands shaking but determined, until you’re both completely naked on his bed. Then he lays you down on your back like you’re made of glass, crawling between your spread thighs and just… looking at you.

“God… you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, voice cracking. “I’ve imagined this exact moment so many times but the real you is so much better…”

He starts slow. Kissing down your body, sucking softly on your nipples until you’re arching off the bed. Two long fingers slide into you—still wet and full of his cum from earlier—and he curls them perfectly, thumb circling your clit while he watches your face with those wide, glassy eyes.

“I want to make you cum first,” he mumbles against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses between your breasts. “Please— let me feel you clench around my fingers again… I love how you sound when you’re close…”

You let him. He works you open with slow, deep strokes, whispering praises the entire time—“so wet… still full of me… you’re dripping down my wrist and it’s so hot”—until your thighs start shaking and you cum with a soft cry, clenching hard around his fingers.

Only then does he crawl back up, settling between your legs in full missionary. He hooks one of your thighs over his hip, lines himself up, and slides in with one long, smooth thrust. Both of you moan at the same time—deep, relieved sounds that fill the quiet dorm room.

Armin stays buried to the hilt for a long moment, forehead pressed to yours, glasses slightly crooked, breathing hard. “Too good… still so tight even after everything… I don’t know how long I’m gonna last but I want to feel every second…”

Then he starts moving. Slow, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. Face to face the entire time. You can see every flicker of pleasure on his face—how his eyes flutter, how his mouth falls open in little whimpers, how his cheeks flush darker with every deep push.

“F-fuck… I love you like this,” he gasps, voice wrecked and pathetic. “Looking at me… holding me… hah— please keep looking at me—”

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, nails dragging lightly down his back. He whimpers louder, hips snapping a little faster but still controlled, still savoring it. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it beside your head while the other cups your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in time with his thrusts.

The bed creaks softly under you. Morning light is starting to filter through the blinds now, painting soft golden stripes across his back and shoulders. You can see everything—the way sweat beads on his forehead, the way his glasses keep sliding down his nose, the way his blond hair sticks to his skin.

When he gets close he buries his face in your neck, whimpering against your skin. “Gonna— gonna cum again— please— can I fill you up one more time? I want to feel you milk me while I’m inside you— please—”

You clench around him on purpose and he breaks. His hips stutter, a broken sob tearing from his throat as he cums deep inside you—hot, thick pulses that seem to go on forever. He keeps grinding through it, whimpering “thank you… thank you… I love you…” until he’s completely spent.

But he doesn’t pull out. Instead he rolls you both so you’re on top, still connected, and lets you ride him slow and lazy while he recovers. His hands rest on your hips, guiding you gently, eyes half-lidded and adoring as he watches you move.

You ride him through a second, slower orgasm—his and yours—before he finally pulls out with a soft, reluctant whine. He’s shaking, overstimulated, cock glistening and twitching against his stomach, but he still reaches for the warm towel he keeps by the bed and cleans you up carefully, almost reverently.

Then comes the aftercare.

Armin pulls his oversized beige hoodie over your head (the one with the tiny Colossal Titan on the sleeve), tucks you against his chest under the blankets, and wraps his arms around you like he never wants to let go. His face is buried in your hair, legs tangled with yours, one hand gently stroking up and down your back.

“You’re… you’re really here,” he whispers, voice soft and sleepy and full of wonder. “I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up and this was all just another late-night fantasy in the club room… but you’re actually in my bed wearing my hoodie and I think my heart is going to explode.”

You laugh quietly and kiss his forehead, feeling him smile against your skin. He reaches over, grabs the Mikasa plushie, and places it gently on the pillow beside you like he’s introducing you to his roommate.

“Stay?” he asks, shy again, cheeks pink. “At least until the afternoon? I can make you breakfast… or we can just stay like this and I can explain the entire final arc of Attack on Titan while you fall asleep on my chest… whatever you want. I just— I don’t want this to end yet.”

You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat slow under your cheek, warm cum still slowly leaking between your thighs, his arms tight around you.

“Deal, nerdmin,” you murmur. “But only if we do round four after breakfast.”

Armin lets out the softest, happiest little whimper and hides his burning face in your neck, already half-hard again just from the thought.

Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re the loud, outgoing president of the university anime club—always organizing events, hyping cosplay shoots, and dragging everyone into late-night chaos. nerd!Armin—quiet club treasurer, glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, Attack on Titan lore expert who blushes if you even say his name too loud—has been secretly crushing on you for an entire semester. tonight the whole club pulled an all-nighter to finish the massive convention booth setup. after everyone left at 2 AM, things in the messy club room went from innocent planning to filthy when you caught him staring at the secret sketch of you in your Levi cosplay. now, still buzzing from the first round on the carpet, security’s footsteps are coming down the hall… and the only place left to hide is the rooftop.

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, intense dry humping/grinding against the wall, fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, standing doggy against railing, subby pathetic armin, university au, anime club setting, public risk (rooftop), lots of whimpering/begging, detailed slow build-up, multiple orgasms, fluffy shy aftercare

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

Part 2: The Rooftop (Escaping the Club Room Before Security Catches You)

You’re still straddling Armin on the glitter-covered carpet, his cock softening inside you, warm cum slowly leaking down your thighs. His arms are wrapped tight around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck as he catches his breath. The LED strips overhead cast soft purple glows across his flushed skin, and every tiny shift of your hips makes him whimper softly against you.

“…Can we… maybe stay like this a little longer?” he mumbles, voice hoarse and shy, lips brushing your collarbone. “Before we finish the posters… I just— I don’t want this to end yet.”

You smile, running your fingers through his messy blond hair, feeling him twitch inside you again already. “Greedy nerd,” you tease, rolling your hips once just to hear the broken little sound he makes. “We still have to—”

Footsteps.

Heavy, deliberate boots echoing in the hallway outside the club room door.

Security doing their 3 AM rounds.

Armin’s eyes snap wide open, glasses still somewhere on the carpet beside you. “O-oh shit— they’re coming— we can’t— they’ll see everything—”

You both scramble in a frantic, half-naked panic. You climb off him quickly, cum dripping down your leg as you yank your tiny grey shorts back up and tug your cropped hoodie over your head. Armin is even more of a mess—his beige hoodie is inside-out, sweatpants twisted around one ankle, cock still glistening and half-hard as he tries to stuff it back in. His face is bright red, glasses fogged and crooked when he finally finds them and jams them on.

You grab his hand, both of you giggling like idiots while trying to stay quiet. “Side stairwell— now!” you whisper, snatching the key to the roof access door from the club cabinet. Armin barely has time to pull his hoodie straight before you’re dragging him out the back exit, the club room door clicking shut behind you just as the security guard’s flashlight beam sweeps across the hallway.

The stairwell is pitch-black except for the emergency exit signs. You race up the concrete steps hand-in-hand, hearts pounding, bare feet slapping against the cold stairs. Armin’s breathing is ragged behind you—part from running, part from the way his cock is already straining against his sweatpants again just from the adrenaline and the memory of being buried inside you.

You push open the rooftop access door at the top. Cool night air hits you instantly, carrying the distant sound of city traffic and the faint smell of rain that’s finally stopped. The rooftop is empty, wide and open, with low concrete walls and a metal railing overlooking the campus lights sparkling below. A few old folding chairs from last summer’s stargazing event are still scattered around, and the fairy lights you and the club strung up last month are still twinkling faintly along the edge.

The second the heavy door clicks shut behind you, Armin spins you around and presses you against the cold concrete wall. His mouth crashes into yours—desperate, hungry, no longer shy. His hands slide under your cropped hoodie immediately, cupping your tits and squeezing gently while his thumbs brush over your nipples.

“I can’t believe we almost got caught,” he pants against your lips, voice wrecked. “I was still inside you and— hah— and now I’m so hard again it hurts—”

You grin, reaching down to palm him through his sweatpants. He’s leaking already, the fabric soaked. “Then do something about it, Armin.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He spins you around so you’re facing the wall, hands braced on the concrete, ass pushed back against him. The city lights stretch out below like a sea of stars. Armin yanks your shorts down just enough, then his own sweatpants, and presses his cock against your soaked entrance from behind.

“C-can I…?” he whispers, voice cracking, forehead resting between your shoulder blades. “Please— I need to feel you again— right here where anyone could look up—”

You push back against him. “Fuck me, Armin. Now.”

He slides in with one long, desperate thrust, bottoming out so deep you both moan into the night air. His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back onto him as he starts rolling his hips in short, needy strokes. The angle is perfect—his cock dragging against that spot inside you with every thrust, the cool wind brushing your exposed skin.

Armin’s whimpers are louder out here, unrestrained. “S-so tight— still full of my cum from earlier— fuck— you’re dripping down my balls— I can feel it—”

He leans forward, one hand sliding up under your hoodie to pinch and roll your nipple while the other reaches around to rub slow circles on your clit. His glasses press into your shoulder blade, fogged up again, blond hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. Every thrust makes wet, obscene sounds that mix with the distant city noise.

You push back harder, meeting him thrust for thrust. “Harder, baby. I want to feel you lose it.”

He sobs a broken moan and obeys, fucking you faster against the railing. His hips snap forward, skin slapping against skin, the metal railing creaking slightly under your hands. One of his arms wraps around your waist to hold you steady while the other keeps working your clit.

“I’m— I’m gonna cum again— already— please— can I fill you up one more time?” he begs, voice high and pathetic, lips brushing your ear. “I want to feel you clench around me while I pump you full— please— I’ve never felt anything this good—”

You clench around him on purpose and he cries out, hips stuttering. When he cums it hits him hard—hot, thick spurts flooding deep inside you again as his whole body shakes against your back. He keeps grinding through it, whimpering your name over and over like a chant, forehead pressed to your spine, glasses slipping down his nose.

You’re right behind him, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashes over you. Armin doesn’t pull out. He stays buried deep, arms wrapped around you from behind, breathing hard while the city lights blur below.

For a long minute the only sounds are your panting and the soft hum of the fairy lights.

Then his soft, shy voice murmurs against your neck, still hoarse:

“…I think I’m in love with you. Like… actually. Not just the fantasy version.”

You twist around in his arms, his cock still inside you, and kiss him slow and deep. He melts again, hands gentle on your waist now, thumbs stroking your skin like you’re something precious.

You stay like that for a while—pressed together against the rooftop railing, cum slowly dripping down your thigh, the cool night air cooling your overheated skin. Armin eventually pulls out with a soft, reluctant whimper, helps you pull your shorts back up, then tugs his own sweatpants into place. He grabs one of the old folding chairs, sits down, and pulls you into his lap so you can both catch your breath under the stars.

His arms wrap around you again, face buried in your hair. “We should… probably go back to my dorm before the sun comes up,” he mumbles, cheeks pink. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend. I have a real bed. And… maybe we can do this again? Slower? Where I can actually look at your face the whole time?”

You laugh quietly and kiss the top of his head, feeling him twitch against your thigh already at the thought.

Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re the loud, outgoing president of the university anime club—always organizing events, hyping cosplay shoots, and dragging everyone into late-night chaos. nerd!Armin—quiet club treasurer, glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, Attack on Titan lore expert who blushes if you even say his name too loud—has been secretly crushing on you for an entire semester. tonight the whole club is pulling an all-nighter to finish the massive convention booth setup. when everyone else finally leaves at 2 AM, it’s just you and him in the messy club room surrounded by half-finished posters, glowing LED strips, scattered manga pages, and the faint smell of instant ramen. what starts as innocent planning turns filthy the second you catch him staring at the secret sketch of you in your Levi cosplay that he’s been hiding in his notebook for weeks.

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, intense dry humping/grinding, fingering, nipple play, handjob, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, subby pathetic armin, university au, anime club setting, lots of whimpering/begging, detailed slow build-up, multiple orgasms, fluffy shy aftercare

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

Part 1: The Anime Club Room (2 AM All-Nighter)

The anime club room on the fourth floor of the arts building feels like a different world at 2:07 AM. The overhead fluorescent lights are off; only the soft purple and blue LED strips you strung up last month are glowing, casting everything in a dreamy, hazy light. Half-finished convention posters lean against the walls—giant Survey Corps emblems, printed manga panels of Eren, Mikasa, and Levi taped everywhere, foam board cutouts of titans scattered across the carpet like fallen soldiers. Empty ramen cups, energy drink cans, and glitter glue sticks litter the floor. The faint hum of the old air-conditioning unit mixes with the distant sound of rain tapping against the window.

Everyone else had given up and gone home around midnight, groaning about exams and sleep. Now it’s just you and Armin.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the worn grey carpet in the middle of the room, exactly where the big “Welcome to the Booth” banner is supposed to go. His oversized beige hoodie (the one with the tiny embroidered Colossal Titan on the left sleeve that he thinks nobody notices) is rumpled, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His blond hair is a complete mess from running his fingers through it every time he gets stressed about alignment. Wire-rimmed glasses sit crooked on his nose, sliding down every few seconds as he leans over his laptop, carefully adjusting the Canva template for the final poster layout. A mechanical pencil is tucked behind his ear, and there’s a smudge of silver glitter on his cheek that he hasn’t noticed yet.

You’re sprawled on the carpet across from him, legs stretched out so your bare thigh keeps brushing his knee every time you reach for supplies. You’re wearing your usual club uniform: an old cropped black hoodie that keeps riding up to show a strip of skin, tiny grey shorts, and fuzzy socks with little Attack on Titan logos on them. Your hair is messy from hours of work, and you can feel the exhaustion in your shoulders—but the way Armin keeps stealing glances at you is keeping you wide awake.

“Armin,” you say softly, voice teasing as you wave the glue gun at him, “you’ve been staring at the same spot on that poster for like fifteen minutes straight. Is the text really that hard to center, or am I just that distracting?”

He jumps like you shocked him, cheeks flushing that pretty pink all the way up to his ears. His glasses fog up instantly. “N-no! I swear I was just— the kerning on the font is off and I was calculating the perfect pixel spacing so it looks professional for the con and—”

You crawl closer on your knees, deliberately letting your chest brush against his arm as you lean over to “help” look at his screen. That’s when you spot it: tucked halfway under his laptop, a loose sheet of sketch paper. It’s clearly his work—clean lines, perfect shading, the same style he uses for club flyers. But this one isn’t for the booth.

It’s you.

Drawn in full detail wearing the Levi cosplay you rocked last month for the club photoshoot. The straps of the harness are pulled tight across your chest, jacket open just enough to show cleavage, hair styled exactly like Levi’s undercut, one hand on your hip in that signature glare. But the way he drew your thighs, the curve of your ass, the way the uniform clings to your body… it’s not club-appropriate at all. It’s filthy. Private. Like he spent hours imagining exactly how the fabric would look stretched over your skin.

Your eyes go wide. Armin realizes a half-second too late and lunges for the paper, but you snatch it first, holding it up to the LED lights.

“Armin Arlert,” you whisper, voice low and delighted, “you drew me? Like this?”

He looks like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His hands fly up to cover his burning face, shoulders curling in as he shrinks into his hoodie. “I-I’m so sorry— I didn’t mean for you to see that— please don’t hate me— I just— you looked so cool and powerful in the cosplay that day and every time I close my eyes I see you and I’m pathetic, I know, I’ve been drawing you for weeks and I jerk off to this sketch almost every single night and I’m so embarrassed I could die—”

His voice cracks into the tiniest, most broken whimper you’ve ever heard. The sound goes straight between your legs.

You set the sketch down carefully on the carpet and crawl the rest of the way into his lap, straddling his thighs right there in the middle of the glitter-covered floor. The LED lights above you sway gently, casting soft purple glows across his face. His breath hitches so hard his whole body trembles.

“You’re not pathetic,” you murmur, rolling your hips once—slow, deliberate, pressing right against the obvious, rock-hard bulge straining his grey sweatpants. “You’re really fucking hot when you get all shy and desperate like this.”

Armin’s head falls back against the low couch behind him with a soft thud. A shaky, broken moan spills from his lips before he can slap a hand over his mouth. His hands hover at your waist like he’s terrified to touch you, fingers trembling in the air. But when you grind down again—harder this time, feeling every thick inch of him twitch against you—his palms finally land on your hips, digging in desperately, pulling you closer like he’ll fall apart if you stop.

“Hah— oh god— please— I’ve wanted this for so long,” he gasps, voice wrecked and barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how many nights I stayed late in this exact room after club meetings… thinking about you… imagining you riding me right here on the carpet while everyone else was gone—”

You lean in and kiss him to shut him up. He melts instantly—soft, eager lips parting for you, shy tongue that quickly turns hungry the second you lick into his mouth. The kiss is messy, desperate, full of months of pent-up longing. While your tongues slide together you keep rolling your hips in slow, filthy circles, feeling him leak through the fabric until the front of his sweatpants is soaked with a huge wet spot.

Armin whimpers into your mouth with every grind, hips bucking up involuntarily, chasing the friction like he can’t control himself. His glasses are completely fogged up now, sliding down his nose. You reach up and gently pull them off, setting them aside on the carpet so you can see those wide, glassy blue eyes staring up at you like you’re the only thing in the universe.

Clothes start coming off in a clumsy, heated rush between kisses. You tug his hoodie up and over his head, revealing pale skin and a surprisingly toned chest from all the anxious late-night pacing he does. He’s surprisingly gentle when he peels your cropped hoodie off, hands shaking as he cups your tits like they’re something precious. The second he sees your nipples he leans in and latches onto one, sucking softly at first, then harder when you moan and arch into his mouth. His tongue swirls, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.

“F-fuck… they’re even prettier than I imagined,” he mumbles against your skin, voice hoarse. One hand slides down between your bodies, trembling fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts. Two long fingers push inside you easily—you’re already dripping—and he curls them perfectly, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit while he keeps sucking on your other nipple.

You ride his fingers shamelessly, grinding down on his hand while he whimpers and pants against your chest. His cock is throbbing so hard against your thigh you can feel it twitching every time you moan his name.

“W-want to make you feel good first,” he begs, voice cracking. “Please— I’ve dreamed about this exact moment for months— let me— let me make you cum on my fingers before I—”

You let him. He works you until your thighs are shaking, until you’re dripping down his wrist and the carpet underneath you is getting wet. Only then do you push him flat onto his back, yank his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and sink down onto his cock in one smooth, deep motion.

Armin’s back arches off the carpet so hard his spine cracks. A loud, broken cry tears from his throat—raw and overwhelmed—as you take every inch of him. “Too tight— too warm— oh my god— I’m gonna cum already— I can’t— I can’t hold it—”

You brace your hands on his chest and start riding him slow and deep, hips rolling in that perfect rhythm that has him seeing stars. The LED lights above sway with every bounce, casting moving shadows across his flushed face. His hands grip your hips like a lifeline, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, but he never tries to control you—just holds on while he whimpers and moans your name like a prayer.

Every time you clench around him he sobs a little, glasses-less eyes glassy and wet with pleasure. “S-so good— you feel so perfect— been fantasizing about this for so long— please don’t stop— please let me stay inside you forever—”

You lean down and kiss him again, messy and deep, while you ride him harder. His cock hits that perfect spot inside you over and over until you’re both trembling. When he finally cums it’s with a broken, pathetic cry—hips stuttering up into you, flooding you with hot, thick spurts while his whole body shakes underneath you. He keeps grinding through it, whimpering “thank you— thank you— thank you—” against your lips even as he fills you completely.

You stay seated on him, both of you panting hard in the quiet club room, the only sounds your breathing and the distant rain outside. Armin’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down against his chest like he never wants to let go. His face is buried in your neck, glasses still somewhere on the carpet, blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

After a long moment his soft, shy voice mumbles against your skin:

“…Can we… maybe stay like this a little longer? Before we finish the posters?”

You laugh quietly and kiss the top of his head, feeling him twitch inside you again already.

Pairing: nerdmin x reader

Synopsis: you’re bombing your midterms and can’t focus for shit. nerd!Armin—top of the entire batch, glasses always fogging up from how hard he thinks—is assigned as your tutor. but instead of studying, you keep catching him staring, and tonight in his tiny dorm room things get way too quiet… and way too heated. is pathetic, whimpery armin secretly the hottest guy on campus??

Content: nsfw, smut, mdni, heavy dry humping/grinding, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, doggy style, creampie, subby pathetic armin, university au, slight tit play, lots of whimpering and begging

──────────────── MDNI 18+ ────────────────

University is brutal for most people, especially you. Zero motivation, zero time, and your grades are screaming for help. But for Armin Arlert? It’s effortless. He’s top of every class, finishes assignments before they’re even due, and still has time to reorganize his color-coded notes. The only thing that completely wrecks him is you.

He’s been obsessed for months. Stealing glances at you in the lecture hall, pretending to adjust his glasses just so he can watch the way you tuck your hair behind your ear. At night he’d lie in his single bed, phone screen glowing with your Instagram stories, cock in his fist, biting his hoodie sleeve to stay quiet while he fucked his hand and whispered your name like a prayer. “F-fuck… so warm… so tight for me…” he’d whimper, hips stuttering until he spilled all over his stomach, shame hitting him the second he came down from the high.

Tonight is supposed to be different. He offered to tutor you after seeing you nearly cry over your failing econ paper. You said yes because you were desperate. Now you’re both sitting cross-legged on his bed, textbooks open between you, the only light coming from his desk lamp and the city glow through the window.

You’re not focusing. Not even a little.

Armin’s voice is soft and patient as he explains supply and demand, but all you can think about is how his oversized graphic tee (some old Attack on Titan print) keeps slipping off one pale shoulder, how his thigh keeps brushing yours every time he leans in to point at a graph. He smells like fresh laundry and that stupidly expensive vanilla body wash he always uses.

You shift closer. Your knee presses fully against his. Armin’s breath hitches.

He tries to keep talking, but his voice cracks. “S-so… the equilibrium price would be—”

You slide your hand onto his thigh. “Armin.”

He freezes. His cheeks go bright red behind his glasses. “Y-yeah?”

“You’re hard.”

His cock is straining so obviously against his sweatpants it’s almost cute. A tiny wet spot is already darkening the fabric. He whimpers—actually whimpers—and tries to cover himself with shaky hands.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean— I’ve just… I’ve liked you for so long and you’re right here and you smell so good and—”

You don’t let him finish. You swing a leg over and straddle his lap, grinding down on his bulge in one slow roll. Armin’s head falls back against the wall with a thud, a broken moan spilling out.

“O-oh my god— please— that feels—”

You rock against him harder, feeling every inch of his cock through the thin layers. His hands fly to your hips like he’s scared you’ll disappear, fingers digging in desperately while he pants against your neck.

“You’re so pathetic,” you whisper, but you’re smiling. “Been jerking off to me, haven’t you?”

He nods frantically, glasses fogging up. “Every night… hah— every single night— thought about you riding me just like this—”

You kiss him to shut him up. He melts instantly, lips soft and eager, tongue shy but hungry. While you make out you keep grinding, rolling your hips until he’s whimpering into your mouth, hips bucking up like he can’t control them.

Clothes come off in a clumsy rush. He’s surprisingly gentle when he peels your shirt off, but the second he sees your tits he leans in and mouths at one nipple, sucking softly while his fingers tremble between your legs. Two fingers slide inside you so easily you both moan. He curls them just right, eyes wide and glassy behind his glasses as he watches your face.

“W-want to make you feel good first,” he mumbles, voice wrecked. “Please let me— please—”

You let him. He fingers you until your thighs are shaking, then you push him onto his back, turn around, and get on all fours.

“Fuck me like this, Armin.”

He scrambles behind you so fast it’s embarrassing. His hands grip your hips like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. The head of his cock nudges your entrance, hot and leaking.

“C-can I…?” he whispers, voice cracking.

You push back. “Now.”

He slides in with one desperate thrust, bottoming out so deep you both groan. He doesn’t move at first—just stays buried inside you, trembling, forehead pressed to your spine.

“Too tight… too good… I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum too fast—”

You clench around him on purpose. “Then cum. Fill me up.”

That’s all it takes. Armin starts fucking you like he’s been starving for it—short, frantic thrusts, whimpering and moaning your name the whole time. His glasses keep slipping down his nose. One hand reaches around to play with your tits, squeezing gently like he’s scared to be too rough. The other hand grips your hip so hard his knuckles go white.

“Gonna— gonna cum inside— please let me— please—”

You push back harder. “Do it. Cream me, Armin.”

He cries out—actually cries out—when he cums, hips stuttering as he pumps you full, hot and deep. He keeps grinding through it, little broken sobs falling from his lips, until he’s completely spent and collapses against your back, still buried inside you, breathing like he just ran a marathon.

For a second the only sound is both of you panting.

Then Armin’s soft, shy voice in your ear:

“…Can we… study like this more often?”

(crttro)

I LOVE NERDS🫪🔥–especially nerd armin... hehe