imagine armin taking the rice purity test lol
“Hey Armin...”
He looks up from his book at you, sitting pretty next to him.
The way you said his name has him on his guard, on the edge of his seat. Your voice is so crisp and steady, yet the playful look in your eye tells him you’re up to no good.
“Yeah?”
“You like taking tests, right?”
“...yeah?”
You hand your phone out to him, nodding your head towards it as he looks at you skeptically.
You sigh. “It’s not a bomb, Armin. Take my phone and do the test.”
“What test?”
“Do it and you’ll see.” You slip off the couch, stretching your arms out in the air and yawn, body feeling light as you let out all the tension from your muscles. “Call me when you’re done.”
You don’t offer much more of an explanation when you trod off to the kitchen, humming a tune under your breath. Armin looks down at the phone screen. It’s a simple looking quiz, the words Rice Purity Test in red letters at the top has him a little confused.
Why does he need to take a test on rice? And what is so pure about rice?
Most importantly, why did you look so cheeky when handing the phone to him when it’s a test about…rice?
He tosses his book to the side, careful to keep the bookmark from slipping out. Slowly he begins to tick off the boxes. Held hands romantically? He’s never been in a relationship, nor had he ever had the courage to talk to his crush before so no.
Been on a date? Nope. Danced without leaving room for Jesus? What?
It takes him a little moment before he gets it, the lightbulb inside his brain flickers on, flashing as bright and yellow as his hair.
A small gasp leaving his throat has you snickering from the kitchen, already having a feeling he’s finally understood the true intentions behind this test.
He slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, fingers hesitating to scroll down further. He doesn’t consider himself a dirty person, nor someone that has sexual thoughts very often, but hanging out with Connie and Jean has its perks (he hates sitting next to Connie in class because he makes it his personal job to draw little balls on the corners of Armin’s notebook), He’s able to deduce their dirty jokes in record time before they laugh at him for being as innocent as the pure driven snow.
He may not be dirty minded, but he isn’t clueless.
“Armin, is everything ok?” you call out, hiding a laugh when he doesn’t verbally respond, only nodding his head, his fluffy sandy hair moving with the movement. “Tell me when you’re done.”
He’s tuned you out at this point, now forgetting scrolling through the test in chronological order, skipping half the questions to read the rest. It only gets worse. The questions are more obscene, explicit, X-rated, questions ranging from sexual activity, to drugs, to—oh my god, is that beasitality..?— law breaking criminal activity, and just the mere thought of him completing these has his cheeks flushing hot from embarrassment.
You’re able to sneak up behind him, crossed arms resting on the back of the couch. “I scored 70.”
He visibly jumps when your silky voice is so close beside his ear, and he can smell the strawberry flavoured milkshake you’d been drinking on your breath. “70?” he asks, and you nod your head, taking another sip. “Is that good?”
“It means I’m not a whore, a junkie, or a weirdo if that’s what you’re asking—”
“I wasn’t asking that—”
“—but if you think mine is bad, you should see Eren and Jean. Holy fuck, we did it after class and Jean scored 66, Eren scored 64. Connie definitely lied because he said he’d scored 40 but we all know that’s straight up bullshit. Mikasa refused to take it and Sasha scored 90.”
Armin blinks at you, stunned for a moment. He didn’t realise this test was sucha big deal and that everyone took it. Now he’s a little embarrassed because he knows he will score lower than his male counterparts. It’s not that he’s a virgin…ok, he’s a virgin, but by choice.
He gets attention at school, girls show their attraction to him, but he always declines politely, mainly because they’re probably using him to boost their own ego, wanting to go after the more quiet one for whatever reasons they have in their mind.
“Go on, continue. Don’t let me stop you.” You take another sip of the milkshake, and maybe there’s something in the air, maybe the test had gotten to his head because he focuses on the way your lips wrap around the bottle, the few drops of the milkshake dribbling down your chin has him taking a shaky breath, his mind already replacing that image with something else.
“Uh…ok, okay yeah,” he stutters out, ripping his gaze from your face back down to your phone.
His nerves are racing ten times faster with the feel of your eyes watching every movement of his fingers, each box he ticks off. It’s a good thing he can’t see your face, he doesn’t wanna know what kind of face you’re making when you watch him skip past almost every single box, fingers hesitating before ticking off the Masturbated to a picture or video? box.
“You what?” You shriek out by accident, making him visibly jump once more from the sudden raise of your voice. “I would never have guessed that, holy shit.”
“It’s—”
“Relax, Armin,” you giggle helplessly, “you look like you’re 'bout to faint. It’s not a bad thing to masturbate. I just never expected that from you. So…” you tilt your head to the side, corner of your lips curling up in a wry smirk, “ who did you jerk off to?”
“I—I, well, I didn’t—”
“Was it porn?”
“No—”
“Someone we know?”
“I—”
“Was it Annie?”
“No—” His face is beet-red at this point and you swear he’s sweating profusely.
“Are you going to tell me even if I get it right?”
“No…”
You sigh , long, exasperated, shifting to sit next to him on the couch, knee knocking against his from how close you sat. “Alright that’s fair, I guess.”
He blinks at you with those intoxicatingly innocent eyes of his. “I don’t think I’m going to score that high on this.”
“I know that. This is probably the first test you’ll ever fail.” At that he frowns, and you reach out to pinch his cheeks, “don’t be sad, failing this test ain’t a bad thing. It’s kinda good. Means that you’re still…uh, how do I say this politely? Uh—innocent? I dunno, just know it ain’t anything bad, so don’t get upset.”
“Yeah?”
You nod your head. “If anything, the lower score you get on this, the more I don’t trust you. ‘Cause whaddya mean you snorted coke and ran from the police?”
He lets out a genuine breathless laugh, feeling a surge of confidence course its way through his veins. “Ok, I’ll finish the test.”
A couple moments later, he hands you back the phone, a bright red 96 as the final score. Your eyebrows lift when you see it, taking a quick peek over at him. He’s red as a tomato at this point, purposefully trying to avoid your gaze, eyes darting everywhere but your face.
“You’ve never even kissed someone before?” His cheeks tint impossibly redder as he avoids your question, and you bite at your lip. “Want me to teach you?”
He finally looks at you, eyes wide in shock. “Huh?”
“I asked if you want me to teach you.”
“Teach me how to k—kiss?”
You shrug your shoulders, like what you’re proposing isn’t a big deal at all. It’s really not. To someone like you, kissing isn’t even that deep. It’s just a kiss. But to Armin? He feels like he can’t even get a proper sentence out.
“If you don’t wanna it’s okay, I won’t be offended.”
“It’s not that—I just…won’t it be weird?”
“Hm?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch, till his back is against the armrest and you’re hovering over him, arms by the side of his face. “It’ll be weird if you make it weird.”
You feel a rush of adrenaline flush down your body when he looks up at you, his mouth agape, breathless as his eyes drop down to your lips. You lean closer for the benefit of it, ensuring your mere presence is enough to make his heart stutter in his chest.
“Is that a yes, Armin?”
His throat bobs when he swallows, eyes fluttering as he takes in the sight of you, gazing down at him suggestivly. The deep, prolonged, eye contact has his cheeks burning red. He gathers the saliva in his mouth to moisten it up, worried his voice would come out hoarse otherwise. “Yes.”
“Okay—” You’re leaning in closer. His world goes in slow motion. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“O—okay.”
His eyes remain open for the first few seconds your lips press against his. It’s slow, slow enough for him to learn the proper movements, tilting his head to the side to properly angle his mouth into yours. The kiss isn’t a full on make out yet, and he freezes up when he feels the tip of your tongue slide against his bottom lip. You suck his lip into your mouth, pulling away to look him in the eye, soak in the sight of him falling apart under you before letting go.
“How was that?”
“It was good…yeah, yeah good.”
“Alright, now—” you sink backwards to grab your phone, unlock it, then hand it back to him. “—now you can tick that off the list.”
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