#Marco Bodt x Reader

[levithestripper]

part two of how the members of the survey corp and marley warriors would train with you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, marco lives! au, marcel lives! au, suggestive in some areas.

included characters: eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirstein, marco bodt, connie springer, bertolt hoover, and porco galliard.

length: 3.6k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

part one || part two [you're here!]

request: [anon] Would you be willing to do another part of "how the members of the survey corp and marley warriors would train with you" but with gn!reader winning this time. Maybe it's luck, maybe they cheated (tickles ? Unfair move?), or one time vicrory only ? If you're up for it of course ! Loved it :>

a/n: i loved writing a part two of this for you, nonnie! i hope it's everything you wanted :) if you guys have any other requests for hcs, please send them my way! i find the guys easier to write, so i just did them! and if i didn't include one, it's probably bc the reader already won in p1 or i couldn't think of a scenario for them. if you want me to write for the ones i left out just lemme know :) sorry it took almost a year for me to get to this lmao.

— Eren Yeager

As much as Eren likes to show off and impress you, he still takes training seriously. If he doesn’t take it seriously, how will he get strong enough to achieve his goals? He has gotten rather good at the basics of it, but he still has a lot to polish and work on, just like you, so it makes you two a good pairing. Eren has the wooden prop knife this round, and he’s winning so far. Every time you lunged at him, he’d dodge out of the way, leaving you out of breath and frustrated. You’re all for winning fair and square, but in this instance, you’re not afraid to play dirty to get what you’re after.

“Hey, Eren!” you call out to him, a conniving look spreading across your face. 

He raises an eyebrow at you with suspicion. “What is it?” He stalks you, circling you slowly, watching your every move.

You circle him as well, walking sideways, legs crossing each other. “I heard about your most recent spat with Jean the other day.” Eren doesn’t respond, so you continue with your little scheme. “Connie told me Jean decked you right in the face, giving you a black eye.” You watch as Eren touches his black and blue cheekbone with his free hand. “‘Parently you lost,” you snark. 

“I did not lose to that horse face!” Eren yells at you, gritting his teeth. “Mikasa pulled me off of him before I could defend myself! You know she always does that!”

You smirk at him. He had fallen into your trap, hook, line, and sinker. “Oh yeah? That’s not how Connie told it. He told me—well, told everyone, really—that you laid there and let him win.” You know your boyfriend well, saying the exact things guaranteed to make him snap. “Maybe Jean is better than you at sparring, too.”

That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. Eren charges at you with all his strength, yelling as he does, giving you precisely what you want. Sidestepping him and sticking out your foot, Eren unceremoniously trips and faceplants in the dirt with a groan. Smugly, you crouch down to pluck the knife from Eren’s grasp. “I win, Ren.”

“Fuck you,” he groans, still facefirst in the dirt. 

You sit crisscross beside him, your expression a mix of a smile and a smirk. “Maybe later.”

Eren looks up at you out of the corner of his eye. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” you tease, giggling. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Eren’s voice has no malice behind it as he sits up., rubbing the dirt and blood off his face. A rock must’ve scraped him when he fell. You’ll never admit it, but he looks hot with blood trickling down his forehead.

You kiss his dirtied cheek with a soft giggle. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A faint dusting of blush reddened Eren’s already ruddy face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Regardless, he returns the gesture, kissing the tip of your nose. 

— Armin Arlert

The more often you ask Armin to train with you, the more comfortable he gets. He’s less worried about hurting you, as you’ve proved to him that you’re more than capable of holding your own. It’s not that he views you as weak; he just views your safety as his top priority. He pulls his punches but comes at you in full force without you having to insist upon it this time.

Armin isn’t the best fighter, but he still puts up a good fight. You have the prop knife this round, and you’re winning. He may not have the brute strength of Reiner or Eren, but instead, he uses his brain to fight, aiming primarily for your legs and remaining defensive. All his efforts are for naught, as you’ve pinned him in the blink of an eye. Armin yields to you, just like he had in the past rounds.

“You win again,” Armin says with a smile, accepting your outstretched hand, and you pull him to his feet once more. “I lasted longer this time, though!”

You return his smile with a squeeze of your hand. “We’re both improving, aren’t we?” Armin nods. The sun has started its descent below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful orange color. You tilt your head up to look at it. “It’s getting late. We better get going to catch a shower before suppertime.”

Armin nods again with a hum. “You know, it’ll be quicker if we shower together.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tease, turning to walk with him towards the showers. 

“Mhmm,” he smirks. To imaginary onlookers, Armin looks like he’s innocently messing with you, but the glimmer in his eyes tells you his perceived innocence is merely a facade.

— Jean Kirstein

Winning against Jean is a challenge. You’re both evenly matched in talent, so it comes down to technicalities and skill to beat him. And when that doesn’t work, you resort to playing dirty. Today’s exercise is to wrestle the other to the ground and keep them there until they tap out. Something Jean is excellent at, unfortunately. So you have your work cut out for you.

The two of you were the only ones left in the training yard, the sun setting beyond the trees. Everyone else had gone to shower and change for supper, but you were determined to beat him, even if it meant you’d both sit down for supper in sweaty uniforms. Jean has pinned you twice now, and his victories made him cocky. Perfect. 

It’s the beginning of the round, so you’re circling each other from a small distance away. Jean’s hair is ruffled, giving him an almost disheveled appearance that suits him well. You hate how he still looks good after hours of training. “Say, Jean-bo,” you say with a smirk. 

Your expression tells Jean you’re up to no good, and he isn’t even slightly surprised. “No, no, no, you’re not gonna trick me! Not this time!” 

“Awwww, do you not trust me, Jean-bo? Since when have you so little confidence in me?” you tease.

“You know when!” Jean inches closer to you. 

You shake your head no, feigning innocence. “No, I don’t think I do, Jean-y. Enlighten me, hm?”

Jean waves his hands as he speaks. “Last week, when you got me so worked up, you somehow managed to get me all tied up in my ODM gear!” You giggle at the memory. “Heyy, no laughing at me!”

“I can’t help it! You were hanging upside down!” 

“Only because you spun me around and twisted my lines!” Jean exclaims, eyes fiery. “Captain Levi made me run laps ‘till I dropped!”

Your grin is filled with attitude, knowing exactly how to effectively press Jean’s buttons and irritate him. You watch as he stalks closer and closer to you. He watches you closely, eyeing you up and down. You imagine he’s trying to piece together whatever you’re planning. Having fallen to your schemes more than he’d care to admit, Jean’s learned not to underestimate you. But you still have a few tricks left up your sleeve that Jean hasn’t cracked just yet.

“I bet it was hard coming back and finding out our superiors surprised us with meat for dinner, too,” you snark. Unbeknownst to Jean, the squad captains promptly changed their minds when Sasha practically launched herself into the ceiling. There are nail marks left over to prove it. 

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “You didn’t even save me any, either!” 

You answer by sticking your tongue out at him, playing innocent. You let him get within grappling range, his actions playing right into your evil plans. He quickly knocks you on your ass, giving Jean an easy win if he can keep you there. But his frustration made him sloppy, leaving holes in his attack for you to latch onto and exploit. 

Turning the tables, you slide out from below him and kick Jean’s legs out from underneath him. You straddle his waist before he has the chance to retaliate, pinning his arms behind his back, rendering him immobile. “I win, Jean-bo,” you grin with a laugh, reveling in the glory of your success.

“You only won because I let you!” he argues, face flushing red.

You chuckle at his reaction. “I won because you got sloppy, Jean-y.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, but he holds no resentment against you. “Not my fault I got sloppy; you were goading me!”

“Not my fault you fell for it!”

Jean huffs. “Will you let me up now?”

“Maybe. I think I deserve something for winning, don’t you agree, Jean-bo?” you tease.

He does his best to look at you from the corner of his eye. “If you don’t let me up, you won’t get any kisses. How’s that for your prize, idiot?” You hurry off him, not eager to discover if Jean would hold true to his threat of withholding kisses from you. Jean stands and dusts off his stained pants, pouting at you cutely with a huff. “If anything, I’m the one who deserves kisses after that.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, but you kiss him anyway. “You’re so dramatic.”

— Marco Bodt 

Marco watches as you approach him, his signature smile plastered across his features. He’s sitting in the mess hall with Jean, helping the slightly shorter man with what appears to be paperwork. Jean looks up from his work when he notices your presence, kicking Marco’s leg with a knowing smirk.

You sit down across from them, mirroring Marco’s smile with a sweet one of your own. “Hey, Marco, Jean.” Jean gives a halfhearted wave. “Whatcha up to?” you ask, leaning over the table to look at the paperwork between them.

“Not much; Jean needed help writing his debrief report, so I offered to help him with it.” Marco looks at you with a stupid amount of affection, so much you can practically see it radiating off him. Since joining the Survey Corps, Marco has let his hair grow out, his bangs falling in his eyes, giving him even more of the boyish cuteness he already possesses. He claims he’ll cut it short again, but you like to believe Marco keeps it long because he knows how much you like it this way. 

“How soon until you guys finish?” 

Jean groans at your question. “Not fucking soon enough. It’s making me wanna rip my hair out.” Marco giggles quietly at his reaction.

“Not long.” He smiles at you, nudging your foot with his. “Something you need?” 

“I was hoping you’d have some free time to spar with me, Marco,” you hum, nudging him back. 

Jean, being the dick he loves to be, makes a gagging sound at the both of you. “C’mon, guys, cut it with the sappy romantic eye fucking, already. Go and spar with them, man; I’ll be fine to finish up on my own.” He sticks his tongue out in fake disgust, hurriedly shooing Marco off the bench.

You roll your eyes with a soft chuckle, taking Marco’s soft hand within your own. He waves goodbye to his friend as he leaves and holds the door open for you as you exit. “What exactly do you want to practice? Anything in particular?” he asks, swinging your arm cutely. 

“Hand to hand, mostly. I practically got my ass handed to me by Reiner the other day, and I don’t want a repeat of it.” As you walk towards the edge of the training yard, the sun is high in the sky, surrounded by a pretty shade of light blue, not a cloud to be seen. “What about you?”

Marco shrugs, happy to go along with whatever you prefer. “Nothing comes to mind. I’m happy with whatever you want to do.”

“Okay,” you smile at him, reaching your destination quickly.

By the time you have Marco on his back and yielding to you, the sun has started to set. You help him up and dust off the dirt from his shirt. “So, you finally have enough?”

Marco nods, exhaustion written all over his face. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem holding your own against Reiner, that’s for sure,” he says tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

— Connie Springer 

Connie loves hanging out with you, even if that means he gets his shit rocked while doing it. He thinks it’s hot when you show off how strong you are, so he’s more than happy to seriously train with you instead of just goofing off.

Today’s training is melee fighting with a rifle. Something Connie hates. He’s never been good with rifles; they’re large and clunky, and he can never get an accurate shot with them during target practice. Sasha’s excellence at it drives him up the wall, so he’s adamant about improving his skills, no matter how much he hates doing it. 

“You gonna keep losin’, or should I start putting in some effort?” you tease, standing upright, holding your rifle diagonally across your chest.

Connie drags himself off the ground, white pants stained brown with dirt and mud. “You’re not gonna be winning for much longer, babe,” he says with an evil-looking grin, not giving you any time to prepare before he lunges at you, thrusting the training bayonet towards your chest. 

“Oh, yeah?” You easily dodge his attack, striking the backs of his thighs in retaliation, earning yourself a yelp of surprise and pain. “Doesn’t seem like it, babe,” Connie growls in frustration, darting behind you to land a blow on the weak points of your knees, making your legs buckle, falling to your knees. 

“You wanna take that back?” He stands over you, pointing the fake bayonet between your shoulder blades.

You turn your head to look at him, returning his smirk. You shift your rifle to your other hand and sweep it in an arch behind you, just barely knocking Connie unstable enough for you to escape the compromising position. With Connie off balance, you return the favor, kicking him in the back of his knees, and he lands flat on his face. “No, I don’t think I will,” you chuckle triumphantly, pinning him there with the heel of your rifle. “Maybe next time, love.”

Connie responds with a groan. “I swear, you and Sasha are conspiring against me.”

“Why, I have no idea what you mean! I’d never do something like that!” It’s clear that you’re lying; you and Sasha get along like a house on fire, so that’s something you both would one hundred percent do just to annoy him. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just let me up, idiot,” Connie grumbles, shifting to lay on his back so his face isn’t in the dirt anymore. 

You hum to yourself, tapping your chin with a finger. “Hmmm, I don’t know, should I? I kinda like seeing you underneath me like this.”

Connie’s face flushes a deep shade of red. You notice his pants have tightened slightly, and you move the heel of the rifle to sit just below his belt. “Shut up.”

“What if I don’t want to? What then?” 

“Then I won’t share my dessert with you,” he goads.

You sigh defeatedly and help Connie up. “Dessert tonight better be good.”

Connie kisses the corner of your mouth, holding your free hand in his. “Maybe you’ll get two desserts.”

“Oh? I do like the sound of that,” you smirk, properly kissing him back this time. You hear Jean yell in disgust, and you both flip him the bird.

— Bertolt Hoover

“Are you sure you want to keep going? It’s dark out!” Bertolt whines, looking utterly exhausted. 

“I just wanna get this trick right!” you reply, sweat dripping down your forehead. 

He sighs. “You know I love you, but wouldn’t you fare better if you weren’t this tired?”

You ball your hands into fists and position them like Annie does. “Just one more time, Bertl, please?” you plead, and he caves quicker than you expected him to.

“Just one more, then we’re headed inside, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, and Bertolt rushes toward you. You angle your body so your side faces him. You lift your arm and fold it so your wrist touches your shoulder. When Bertolt reaches you, you grab his sleeve and pull his arm longways across your folded one, and you turn your body again so your back is flush against his chest. In the blink of an eye, you’ve got Bertolt off the ground and over your shoulder, quickly throwing the taller man to the ground. It knocks the breath out of him, but you both have a smile on your face despite it.

Between heaving breaths, Bertolt congratulates you. “You did it! Finally!”

“Finally!” You collapse beside him in a fit of giggles, ecstatic that you’ve finally gotten the hang of the move you’ve been trying to learn all day. “I’m so tired, Bertl.”

“I tried to tell you that, love.” He smiles at you sweetly. “But you had to do it one more time,” Bertolt says with a chuckle, kissing your sweaty forehead. 

“Oh, shush,” you giggle again and kiss his nose in return. “You like training with me.”

Bertolt’s tan skin darkens with a flush of red across his cheekbones. “Never said I didn’t, honey.” He kisses your forehead again. “Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” 

You nod, groaning as you sit up. As the adrenaline fades away, you begin to feel the toll the training had on your poor muscles. Everything is sore and vaguely hurts, making you even more eager for the boiling hot shower in your near future. “The baths should be empty by now, so we can take one together if you like.” Your words cause Bertolt’s blush to worsen, only serving to make you giggle again. “You’re so cute, y’know.”

“Shut up,” he whines, hiding his face from your watchful eyes. “Let’s just go take a shower, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you grin, kissing the backs of his hands before standing up. You offer him a hand, which he accepts, even though he most likely doesn’t need assistance. “I hope there’s extra food left over from supper.” 

Bertolt keeps his hand within yours as you walk back to the bathhouse. “Probably not. You know how Sasha gets.”

“I can always try to bribe one of the cooks. They love me,” you say as your grin widens with a cute smugness.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “They’re gonna stop loving you if you keep pestering them for extra food like this, love.”

“Impossible.” You open the door to the bathhouse, but like the gentleman he is, Bertolt holds it so you can walk inside first.

— Porco Galliard

When he’s training with you, Porco’s cockiness is oftentimes the reason for his downfall as well. He knows you’re also an excellent soldier and fighter, but that doesn’t matter to him when he’s determined to beat your ass into the dirt. But that also gives you a slight advantage as well. He doesn’t underestimate you per se, but he does think he’s hot shit, which opens up plenty of opportunities for you to get him angry, then beat him at his own game once he’s let his guard down. 

“Hey, Pock,” you grin at him while he cocks a suspicious eyebrow at you. 

“What?” he questions between panting breaths. “You trying to talk your way outta this ‘cause you’re afraid of losin’ again?” Sweat drips off his chin and down his neck, making him look stupidly attractive, at least more than should be allowed for this situation.

You smirk at him. “No, dummy. I was just gonna say you look hot, but I guess you don’t wanna hear it,” you say with a shrug, watching to see if your plan works, which it does. 

Porco’s brain lags for a few seconds, giving you all the time you need to dart behind him and wrap him in a headlock. Porco yells and claws at your forearm, but you only tighten your grip on him, forcing him to either struggle or surrender. “You cheated, asshole!” he curses you out, gritting his teeth as he fruitlessly tries to break free of your hold.

“Not my fault you fell for it,” you snark back, teasingly tightening your arm around his throat. “You should’ve kept up a stronger guard, Pocky.”

“God, don’t call me Pocky. Pock is bad enough,” he groans, his short-cropped nails leaving little crescent marks in the meat of your forearm. His words say he’s angry, but the way he’s pressing against your front tells you otherwise. 

You rest your chin on his free shoulder, digging your chin into it just to fuck with him more than you already were. “Oh? You don’t like it? But it’s so cute, Pocky.” 

Porco growls at you with frustration, but he stops trying to escape your grip. “If I yield, will you stop calling me that?”

“Maybe,” you giggle, drawing out the ‘A’ sound. “Only if I get to brag to Marcel about beating you.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, ensuring you know of his despair. “You and your demands are gonna kill me one day, and I’ll enjoy the silence I get from being free of your nagging.”

You pout cutely, but unfortunately, Porco couldn’t see it. “That’s such a long way to tell me you love me, Pocky.”

“Mmm, I wonder why,” he snarks, swallowing thickly. “Will you let me go now?”

“Can I brag to Marcel about your crushing defeat?”

Porco groans dramatically. “Fine, you can brag to him, I guess.” You pepper his cheek with kisses before you free him. “I’m never hearing the end of this from either of you, am I?” 

“Nope!” you giggle, kissing his cheek again before backing away.

taglist: @myglitteringstardust, @alicchis-badonkadonks (sorry if this isn’t you, it’s the only blog that popped up when i typed in the user from my taglist form), @nxuvillette, @killeva, @aestosia, @aangze, and @fantasy-and-love.

[luna-eclipse2000]

An Unexpected Surprise

How the AOT boys react to an unexpected pregnancy

Ft: Eren, Armin, Jean, Marco, Levi and Reiner

Trigger warnings: Mentions of sickness, pregnancy complications

Eren

- You get home from work at four and decide to sit for a half hour before making dinner

- You decide to make Eren his favourite since he warned you that this project he was going to be working on would be long

- You’ve made him this meal dozens of times before so you’re absolutely shocked when you feel instantly nauseous upon smelling the ingredients

- “God, what the hell? Is this all rotten?”

- You check the packages and see that none are even close to the best before date

- You still feel sick so you go to grab something to drink, but the movement sends you over the edge and you end up having to throw up in the sink

- “Shit… What’s going on?”

- You wipe your mouth with a paper towel

- You start to wrack your brain for anything that might’ve made you sick

- When you remember your night with Eren the last time you went on a date

- “Oh, no… Please no…”

- He comes home one night after a long day at work

- When I say long, I mean it

- He usually gets home around 5, but today he’s home at 7

- So he’s assuming that you made dinner and are waiting for him at the table

- Not that he expects you to cook for him

- He’s just assuming because of the time and the fact that you weren’t picking up his calls

- So imagine his confusion when he sees an empty table and a completely clean kitchen

- He checks outside and sees that your car is there

- “(Y/N)?”

- You don’t respond, so he calls out again

- When you still don’t respond, he gets increasingly worried

- So he runs upstairs to your bedroom and he still doesn’t see you

- But when he turns to go check out other rooms, he sees you on the floor of the master bathroom with your knees tucked up into your chest

- “(Y/N)?” He asks softly

- He heads straight into the bathroom and kneels down beside you

- “Sweetie, I was so worried. Why weren’t you answering me?”

- You look up at him and that’s when he sees that you’ve been crying

- “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to you? I’ll kick their asses, just say the word”

- “I-I’m sorry…”

- “Hey, don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

- You point to the counter silently

- He stands up and turns around to see five different pregnancy tests

- All of them are positive

- “Wait… You’re pregnant?”

- That phrase causes you to start crying again

- “I’m sorry!”

- He immediately kneels back down in front of you

- “Hey, it’s ok. Why are you apologizing?”

- “Because we’re not ready for a baby, and we never even talked about if we wanted kids or not.”

- He gently takes your hand and kisses your knuckles

- “I’m with you all the way, ok? No matter if you choose to keep the baby or not. If you want this, then we’ll get you everything you need to keep you both safe. If you don’t, then we’ll schedule an appointment in the morning.”

- You wipe your tears from your cheeks

- “I… I always did want to be a mom.”

- You can see his eyes light up at your decision

- “Really? You want to keep it?”

- You nod and start smiling

- He pulls you into a hug

- “We’re gonna be parents! You’re going to be amazing, I know it.”

Armin

- You started to prepare for your period since your app told you it was about to start

- But then it didn’t

- Two days later and it still didn’t start

- Now you’re getting nervous

- So you quickly go into incognito mode on your phone and search up reviews about different pregnancy tests

- Once you’re satisfied with two different brands, you wait for him to go off to a meeting before heading out and grabbing the tests

- You grab two of each just in case either gives a false result

- But each come back positive

- Now you’re terrified

- And when you’re terrified, you don’t tell anyone because you want to ignore the reality

- But your subconscious exposes you

- And the fact that Armin is so damn observant

- “Yeah, grandpa. We’ll definitely be there.” He says into his phone. “Yes, (Y/N) will make the stuffing you all love so much. Ok. Bye, grandpa.”

- He hangs up his phone and heads to the living room where you’re sitting

- You’re wrapped up in a blanket, something you only do when you’re upset or not feeling good

- “We’re gonna be going to my grandpa’s for thanksgiving this year.” Armin tells you. “Everyone can’t wait for your famous stuffing.”

- “I’m not going.” You tell him

- “Why not?” He asks. “Did something happen last time?”

- You shake your head and pull the blanket tighter around you

- Armin walks around the couch and sits beside you

- “Is everything alright? You can tell me, you know.“

- “Everything is fine.” You assure him, despite knowing that he doesn’t believe you

- “Ok, and now the truth.” He says. “I know you better than that, angel. Your smiles have been empty for days, you’ve been binging your comfort show, and you’ve only eaten things like nuggets and mac and cheese.”

- Armin stands up and walks away

- You didn’t think he’d react like this

- You weren’t expecting him to jump for joy

- But you thought he’d hug you and tell you everything would be alright

- That he’d hold your hand through the whole thing

- You hear him running back down the stairs and know that he’s got a bag packed

- You can practically hear him say-

- “Will you marry me?”

- What?

- Your eyes fly open and you see him kneeling in front of you

- He’s got tears in his beautiful blue eyes

- “What?” You asks aloud

- “I’ve been wanting to ask you for months now. Grandpa gave me my grandmother’s ring when I told him. I wanted to ask you at the beach where we met but… this felt perfect. We’re gonna have a family and I want you to know that I’ll be with you throughout this, and forever. Please, (Y/N). My beautiful (Y/N). Marry me.”

- You start crying again but with tears of joy

- “Yes!”

- He laughs and takes your hand from the blanket

- He kisses your knuckles as he places the ring on your finger

- He then cups your face and starts kissing it absolutely everywhere, causing you to start laughing

- “I love you so much!” He says

- “We’re probably gonna put your grandpa in the hospital, you know?” You say.

- “I’ll have the ambulance on speed dial.” He says

- He then leans down to your stomach

- “Hi there, baby. I know it’s still too early for you to hear me, but I don’t care. I’ll read you all kinds of stories, and I’ll sing to you. I’m going to get all the parenting books I can so you grow up in the best house possible. I’ll protect you always. No matter what.”

- He then looks back up at you. “You’re not lifting a finger for the next few months, ok? I’ll take leave off of work. I’ll even get a bell so you don’t have to yell.”

- “Are you gonna wear a maid’s outfit?” You ask, totally joking

- “If you want me to.”

Jean

- You stare at the test sitting on the bathroom counter

- You start to cry

- You live in a two bedroom apartment and just graduated college

- There’s no way you’re prepared for a kid

- But you know you want to keep it

- Your mind instantly goes to Jean

- There’s no way he’s gonna want to have a kid yet

- He’s so handsome and you’re about to look like the title character in Moby Dick

- You pick up your phone and write out a text

- Jean’s hanging out with his friends at the bar when his phone goes off

- He sees your name on the screen and smiles as he clicks on the notification

- But then his face falls when be reads your message

- “We need to talk”

- No emojis

- No “I love you”

- No “Don’t worry, but…”

- Luckily he’s only had a few sips of his drink so he’s perfectly fine to drive

- “Hey, man. Are you ok?” Marco asks

- “Yeah, you look like you’re about to shit yourself.” Connie says

- “(Y/N) said we need to have a talk.”

- Both of his friends suck in a breath

- “Good luck, man.” Marco says

- “Maybe buy some flowers on the way home just in case.” Connie suggests

- Jean nods and stands up. “Start planning my funeral.”

- “We’ll miss you, buddy.” Connie says as Jean walks back to his car

- Connie was right though, he’s shitting himself

- He keeps running through the day

- Did he say something wrong?

- Did he forget to do his chores?

- Was he supposed to go straight home?

- He’s practicing the apology he’s going to give you based off the different things he could’ve done to make you mad

- He knows from previous relationships that the line ‘We need to talk’ is only said when he’s fucked up

- He doesn’t know how true that statement actually is

- He’s practically shaking as he arrives at your shared apartment

- He’s practically praying that you don’t leave him

- He sees you sitting at the dining room table waiting for him

- “Hey, honey.” He says softly, like he’s walking through a minefield, as he takes his shoes off and walks over to you

- “Have a seat, please.” You instruct

- Jean does as he’s told

- This is it

- You’re about to break up with him

- “I don’t know how to say this…” You say

- He can already feel tears welling up in his eyes

- Maybe if he grovels now and proclaims his undying love, you’ll give him another chance

- He loves you so much, he can’t-

- “I’m pregnant.”

- His mind stills

- Everything goes silent as his mouth opens a bit

- “I know we’re not ready for a kid.” You say. “So I’m offering you an out. You can go pack your bags if you want, I understand. A kid is a big responsibility and we’re both just starting out in our careers”

- “You’re… We’re going to have a kid?” He says

- You honestly get taken aback by his voice

- It’s so soft you swear he spoke like if he said it any louder, that you’d shatter

- He gets out of his chair and kneels down beside you, grasping your hands

- “I’m not leaving, (Y/N). I’ll never leave you or our kid- A kid! Oh, what do you think it’s gonna be? You know what? I don’t care. As long as both of you are healthy. I’m gonna take care of you better than ever before ok? Do you want anything right now? Ice cream? Pizza? Wine- Wait, no you can’t have that. Grape juice that I’ll put into a fancy bottle?”

- You laugh at his sweetness

- You kiss him sweetly and feel tears run down his cheeks

- “I love you.” You say

- “I love you more.” He responds

Marco

- A few days ago you realized how sluggish you’ve been feeling

- So just to be safe and to rule out the big possibility, you bought a test from the local drug store

- And when it came out positive, you felt a flurry of emotions

- You were excited because that means you get to start a family with Marco

- You’re scared because you’ve heard of everything that can happen during pregnancy

- You’re sick just thinking of how much pain you’re going to be in

- So in this state of jumbled feelings, you sort of shut down

- You don’t express your feelings at all, barely eat and barely talk

- Marco’s noticed all of that

- You barely even touched dinner last night

- And you didn’t even the pancakes he made you this morning for breakfast

- He figures your mad at him about something so he offers to do the grocery shopping by himself so you can rest

- Now that the food is out of the way, he makes his way over to the gift section of the store and grabs a box of your favourite snack

- He then heads over to the toys and picks up a stuffed bear he thinks you’ll like

- And then finally over to the flowers to buy you a beautiful bouquet of your favourite flowers wrapped in your favourite colour

- “Darling, I’m home!” He calls out as he opens the door

- He sees you still sitting in the kitchen so he walks over with the gifts in hand

- “I bought you something.” He gives them to you and then sits down. “I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. Can you tell me so I know not to do it again?”

- “I’m not mad at you, Marco.” You say and then look over to him

- “Oh. Then why didn’t you eat dinner or breakfast?” He asks. “Are you feeling sick?”

- “No. Well, yes, but that’s not why I didn’t eat. I guess I’m just a little stressed.”

- “Is it something I can help with?” He asks

- “Marco… I’m pregnant.”

- He blinks a few times

- Are you being serious?

- “Is this something we’re happy about?”

- “I think so.” You answer. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

- Marco smiles happily and kisses you sweetly

- “We can turn the second spare into the nursery!”

- He starts rambling about all the things he’s excited to start doing

Levi

- You’ve been feeling a lot more tired than usual

- Seeing as you work with kids all day, this is extremely annoying

- You sigh as you lean against the bathroom counter while getting ready for work

- “Maybe it’s that time in my cycle?” You wonder

- You open your phone and pull up your period tracking app to see what phase in your cycle you’re at

- But instead, it tells you that your period is four days late

- You’ve never had an irregular period before so this fills your gut with unease

- You’ve always been careful so there was no need to keep any pregnancy tests on hand

- You quickly check the time and see that you can go to the drug store that’s around the corner and make it home before you would have to leave

- So you throw on a pair of shoes and book it outside, clutching your bag nervously as you walk down the street

- You grab three different brands just to be safe, not caring which brands or how expensive

- You also pick up a water for you to chug on the way home

- You’re glad that Levi has already left for work so that’s a bit of pressure off your shoulders

- But it’s waiting for the timer to go off that causes you to pace back and forth in front of the counter

- You jump when the alarm finally blares

- You take a breath before looking at them. The first has a plus sign, the second says positive, and the third says pregnant: 2-3 weeks

- “Shit…”

- Levi comes home from work at his usual time and immediately smells cleaning products

- You have the same love for cleanliness that he does

- It stems from your job as a kindergarten teacher since you see sick children almost as much as if you were doctor

- He figures that there was a cold or flu outbreak at the school so you’re doing your annual fall deep clean

- He removes his shoes at the door and places down his bag then goes to find you

- He wants to help you clean so the both of you can relax for the night

- He finds you at the kitchen counter scrubbing like your life depended on it

- He opens his mouth to greet you when he notices how red and raw your hands look

- “How long have you been cleaning for?”

- “Don’t know.” You answer simply, setting off alarm bells in Levi’s head

- He walks up to you and grabs your hands

- He knows that for your hands to look like this, you would’ve had to be cleaning for a lot longer than if you started right when you got home

- “What’s wrong?”

- You don’t look at him

- “Levi, please. Let me go.”

- “Not until you tell me what’s wrong. You’re practically hurting yourself at this point.”

- “I… I’m pregnant.”

- Levi stiffens a bit

- You two were careful, you’re always careful

- But you’ve talked about kids

- He knows you want them

- You both have good, stable jobs so it’s not about money

- “Why aren’t you happy? I thought you wanted kids.”

- “I do but…” You trail off. “I know how much mess and sickness bothers you. Kids get sick all the time.”

- He lets your hand go so he can gently move your head to look at him

- “Hey. It’s ok. Getting messy and sick are just normal kid things.”

- “But I’m gonna get sick, too!” You remind him. “I’m gonna throw up all the time, and I’ll blow up like a balloon, and I’ll-“

- “Do you think I care about that?” He asks genuinely. “I’ll take care of you when all that happens. If you have some stupid craving in the middle of the night, I’ll go get it for you. I’ll make sure you both are safe and healthy, even if I have to get dirty in the process.”

- You smile, feeling your anxiety wash away

- “Now, let’s go put some cream on these hands, ok?”

Reiner

- You’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately which is unusual for you

- You’ve always had an amazing immune system

- So you start freaking out, trying to figure out why you feel nauseous around the smell of apples

- Maybe you’ve developed an allergy

- So you set up an appointment with your doctor to see if she can figure it out

- When she asks if there’s any chance you could be pregnant, you practically run out of the office

- Once you’ve calmed down, you realize that she could be right and you should know

- So you buy the best (and most expensive) test the drug store has to offer

- You can’t help but bounce your leg and rub your hands as you wait the agonizing few minutes

- And then you see the word ‘Positive’ pop up on the little screen

- Reiner’s at work when he gets a call from you

- Because he’s with his boss, he figures he’ll call you back right after he’s done

- But then you immediately call back

- “Reiner, is everything ok?” His boss asks him

- “Um… I’m not sure. Can I quickly take this?”

- His boss nods so Reiner stands up and turns away as he answers

- “Hey, ba-“

- “R-Reiner.” You interrupt him

- He can hear you sobbing so he goes on high alert mode

- “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

- “I-I’m scared.”

- “Ok, where are you?”

- He’s already headed out of his boss’ office and back to his own to grab his keys

- “Home.”

- “I’m coming, ok? I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can.”

- “O-Ok.” You say and then hang up

- He speed walks to his boss’ office, who looks concerned when he sees Reiner

- “I need to go. Not sure what’s going on.”

- “Yeah, go.” His boss says. “Don’t worry about clocking out, I’ll do that for you.”

- He nods and speed walks out of the building then books it to his car

- “Road safety laws, prepared to be ignored!”

- It takes about half an hour to get from his work back to the apartment

- He makes it in 15

- And that’s only because he hit two red lights that he couldn’t blow through

- He damn near drops his keys as he quickly puts them into the lock and opens the door

- “(Y/N)?”

- He sees you on the couch with your head in your hands

- You look up at him with red puffy eyes

- “Hey, what’s wrong?” He says and walks up to you

- You start crying again so he sits down and lets you cry into his suit

- He shushes you softly as he runs his hand through your hair

- After a few minutes, you finally calm down enough to tell him your news

- “I’m pregnant.”

- He looks at you with starry eyes. “Really?”

- You nod and wipe your eyes. “I’m scared, Reiner. You know that my family has a history of complications during pregnancy and labour. What if all that happens to me?”

- “Ok, first question. Do you want this baby?” He asks you

- “What? Of course I do.”

- “Then prepared to be absolutely pampered, complications or not.” He says. “And if there are complications like the rest of your family, I’ll take a leave of absence and take care of you. I’ll carry you to the bathroom if you’re even a little bit nervous about tripping or something.”

- “Really?” You ask, starting to feel a bit less nervous

- “Of course! And if we have to, we’ll book a hotel near the hospital. Either because it’s safer or for your own peace of mind.”

- You smile and hug him. “I love you, Reiner.”

- “I love you more, (Y/N).”

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 7

last || m.list

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.1k

chapter warnings: explicit smut, dry humping, oral, praise, a touch of corruption, first times, they're in love your honor

a/n: it's chapter 7 but its been just over 2 years since I started this fic so I think that qualifies as slow burn

♪ good old fashioned lover boy by queen ♪ you and I by lady gaga

➷➷➷➷➷

When you drag yourself out of bed for wake-up duty the next morning, Marco is waiting on the deck with coffee in his red thermos. He holds it out to you.

“Two sugars. I only have one travel mug, but I figured we could share. If you want.”

You’re in no position to turn down caffeine, but it’s more than that. You hadn’t asked him to do rounds with you, but here he is: eyes bright like he’s been awake for a while, holding a mug of coffee sweetened the way you like when he usually takes his black. This man might be in love with you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Considering he might be inside you later, you decide you might as well get used to kissing spontaneously. He rests a hand on your waist, tongue brushing yours in a way that crosses from sweet to steamy.

After a long, heady look into his sable eyes, you gratefully reach for the thermos and take a long sip. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”

“How about just one more kiss instead?”

You couldn’t possibly resist.

-

Almost as soon as you arrive at arts and crafts with your group and Ymir’s, Moblit puts you to work. He can’t know that you told Marco your secret; it must be cosmic punishment. While Mobs shows the campers how to make leaf rubbings, you get down to business peeling the paper off of at least a hundred crayons. Ymir grumbles beside you, her fingernails too short to get under the labels. Now’s your chance, and you need to take it.

“Hey, wingwoman.”

Ymir scoffs. “Are you addressing me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, well, well…”

“You should be glad that I’m asking you for a favor.”

“Historia owes me so much money.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d come crawling to me. She didn’t believe me. But I have a sixth sense.” Ymir taps her head.

“Ok, seriously. I need the cabin to myself during free time today. Can you make sure everybody has somewhere else to be?”

Ymir considers this, her bottom lip jutting out in thought. “Well, Hisu goes where I go. If Hitch and Mikasa aren’t already occupied with a Jaeger each, I can probably convince them to go for a hike. Or better, a drive. With the AC on full blast.”

You throw your arms around Ymir and squeeze. “You rock.”

She pushes you off. “You’re just now realizing that? Some friend you are.” She picks at another crayon. “Do you need me to come up with an alibi or should I just tell everyone you’re having clumsy sex with the resident virgin?”

“He could be a sex god. You don’t know.”

“Fat chance.”

“I guess I’ll have to let you know. In excruciating detail.”

“Fuck no you won’t.”

–

Marco meets you on the steps outside your cabin, hands deep in the pocket of his red hoodie. True to her word, Ymir made Historia invite Mikasa and Eren to drive to town with them to buy soda at the convenience store. Hitch said she already had plans and not to wait up.

“What about the rest of the guys?” you ask.

Marco rubs the back of his neck. “All at the pool. Apparently they put up a net and I’m missing a grand volleyball tournament with the Galliards. I told them I had something else to do.”

You give him a sly smile. “Shame.”

Grateful for the privacy, you nudge Marco on the shoulder and lead him inside. After flipping the latch on the door and turning on a small lamp in the corner, you sit down on your bunk and pat the space next to you. “Take off your shoes and stay a while.”

Marco chuckles, cheeks reddening, but does as you say. He lays his hand on top of yours. “I’ll be honest. I’m kind of freaking out right now.”

“If you’re not ready, you’re allowed to change your mind.”

“I’m less worried about stopping than I am about getting started.” He leans in, his forehead touching yours. Quieter, he asks, “Can you take the lead?”

“Mmhmm.” You slide both hands up his neck, thumbs coming to rest at the corners of his jaw. “Kiss me a little first and see if you feel better.”

You don’t need to ask twice. Marco rolls on top of you like he’s been waiting for the chance, hands on your waist as he presses you into the bed. His mouth finds yours hungrily, his breath toothpaste-fresh. He prepped for this.

His tongue dips into your mouth, kissing you deeper. You rake your fingers through his hair, behind his ears, down his back. He’s folded over the edge of the bed, toes on the floor. Slowly, you drag one foot up the length of his leg, arching into the next kiss.

Marco gathers you in his arms as your body rolls.

Your hips seek his own. Now that you’ve had a little taste, all you can think about is getting closer to him. You can’t help yourself: you want to feel his skin, his breath, his body heat. You want it to smother you.

But as badly as you want him, you know you need to take this one step at a time. Today is about enjoying it: his first time, and your first time with him.

As gently as you can, you tug the hem of his hoodie up toward his chest with your fingertips. His t-shirt rides with it, a swath of his tanned-bronze skin meeting your stomach. You nudge inside his shirt, hands meeting his warm back, teasing him for more access bit by bit.

Marco finds your hip and slides a hand up under your top. He’s timid at first, but when you sigh and bend to his touch, he ventures on, hesitating only when he brushes the edge of your bra. With a slight tremble, he cups your breast in his palm.

He inhales sharply, then with a little, almost imperceptible hum, he melts. You feel him start to let go of it all: the fear, the hesitation, the self-consciousness. With another deep breath, he gives an experimental squeeze.

You break the kiss long enough to pull your shirt off over your head. You feel a flash of shyness and cover your bare stomach with your arms as Marco looks down at you with reverence. His pupils dilate, making his irises look almost black as he unfolds, standing to remove his hoodie and shirt in one motion. You expect him to drop them on the floor but giggle when he drapes them carefully over the rail on Historia’s nearby bunk.

“Sorry.” He blushes.

“Don’t be.” You pull your legs up on the bed and stretch out. “Come here.”

Marco drops into your open arms, lips finding yours before he crawls onto his hands and knees on top of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbles through a messy kiss.

You cup his jaw, bringing him closer. “So are you,” you try to say, but he swallows your words.

Your eyes flutter closed and your hands wander, stroking down the planes of his strong neck, his broad shoulders, his sun-speckled chest. There’s so much of him to explore, so much of his body yet untouched. You can’t get enough.

The ambient creaking of the cabin and the rustling of wind outside are punctuated by the slick sounds of kisses as you pore over each other. Marco’s mouth drops to the bend of your neck, drawing heat to the spot. He tangles his legs with yours and rolls you both onto your sides. Arching, you slide your hands around the small of his back and push your hips forward. Dizzy stars burst behind your eyelids as his erection twitches against your lower stomach through his running shorts.

With a little moan, you wrap a thigh around his waist for leverage and grind. Marco jerks his hips forward, head thrown back against your pillow with a hushed, “Fuck.” You drink it in, savoring the sound like the last sip of wine at the bottom of the bottle.

Your leg holds Marco against you, right where he should be, as you set a rhythm, rolling your hips up and down his body. Every few strokes, your clit catches against his clothed cock with delicious friction. When you moan, he moans.

Marco’s breath lands heavily against your face as he tilts his chin down, forehead against your own, to focus on the motion. He watches as you dry-hump against his bulge. Even without being skin to skin, it’s filthy. His hands grip your ass and everything begins to speed up.

Yes. Yes. This is finally happening.

Marco grips your hips and rolls over, balancing his weight above you on his elbows. His breaths come heavy, his body crashing over yours again and again like waves. Plunging your hand between you, you reach for his cock. He moans and humps into your hand like he can’t stop. God, it’s so big, straining against his shorts, and sensitive, throbbing in your grip.

You pant, quick and shallow, thinking about having him inside you, how full you’re going to be. It’s hard to stay calm when the anticipation burns so brightly.

When you let go of his shaft, Marco whines at the loss. You lock eyes as you brush his waistband with just your fingertips. “Ok?” you ask.

He nods desperately. “Please.”

Together, you push the elastic down until he kicks his shorts off behind him along with his underwear. Needy but defenseless, he babbles, “I’m sorry if it’s too much, if you don’t want to—”

You wrap your hand around him, lightheaded at the girth. “Marco, you’re perfect.”

He groans in his throat and rocks into your hand, a man possessed.

With a hand to his side, you guide Marco onto his back. Puffing, he rests while you take off the rest of your clothes. His arm falls across his eyes. “Oh my god.”

He pulls it away to watch as you kneel between his legs and press a kiss to the head of his cock. His muscles tense at your first few kitten licks before you wrap your lips around him. With your fist around his base, you run your tongue back and forth over his frenulum. When you come up for air, you give a few more wet strokes over his tip before Marco reaches for you.

“Please, it feels so good, but I’m gonna cum instantly if you keep doing that.” His laugh comes out more like a breath, but his smile is in his eyes.

Smirking, you crawl up to his middle. Your legs have to spread so wide just to straddle him, but fuck if your hips hurt later. The pain will be sweet. He’s worth it. He’s worth anything.

Marco paws at your arms, pulling you closer. “You don’t have to kiss me after I blow you,” you offer. “I know it bothers some people.”

Marco shakes his head and drags you to him with his hands to the back of your neck. “I don’t care, I want to,” he pants. “I need to kiss you right now.”

Messy kisses string between you, deep, hungry caresses against your tongue. “How do I—” he mumbles into your mouth, “How do I get you ready?”

“You can touch me,” you sigh.

“God,” he moans, reaching between your thighs. “Show me?”

Head hanging over your bent neck, you guide him by the wrist until two of his fingers press over your clit. You show him where to rub the little circles you like, wetting his fingers with your dew. Bracing two hands on either side of his head, you leave him to it, closing your eyes to focus on the repeated motion while you breathe into each other’s mouths.

You hold yourself together until your legs start to tremble. A rush of heat spreads from your face down your neck, flowing between your legs with an irresistible tingle. The words come out clipped and sharp. “You can put a finger in. Please.”

Marco fumbles a little at first but spreads you like a pro once he gets his bearings. One finger dips inside, and it’s both a relief and a lightning strike to your core. “Yes,” you can’t help but hiss.

It’s not like he knows nothing—Marco presses and curls his knuckle, and it makes you whine with pleasure. “Two, please.”

He adds another finger, and the heel of his hand brushes your clit with every flex. Heat builds until it skyrockets, your legs and hips jerking above him as you find a little peak. As the pulses dull around his fingers, your muscles release and your head swims with pleasure. You had no idea how badly you needed that.

You open your eyes to Marco staring in awe. “Did I really make you cum?”

You tap his arm so he knows to pull his fingers out. “Yeah. It was really good.” On wobbly thighs, you climb out of his lap and rest on your knees beside him. “Please tell me you remembered the condoms.”

Marco twists to his side. “Yeah, in my hoodie pocket.”

“I got it.” Slippery between your legs, you retrieve the condom and reach for the bottle of lube you know Historia keeps under her bunk while you’re there.

“Is that—”

“Yeah. It’s been a little while, and I might need it. Trust me, you’ll like it. Want me to put the condom on?” Your hands shake, eagerness making your movements sharp and clumsy. If he’s ready, you don’t want to wait another second.

“Sure.” Marco pushes up onto his elbows while you tear open the gold foil. He did the right thing buying the bigger size. “How do you want to… what’s going to be most comfortable for you?” He sighs as you roll the condom down his length, holding it in place at the tip. Your mouth practically waters as you squeeze out a few drops of lube and spread it on.

“If it’s ok with you, I think it’ll be easiest if I’m on top. At least for the first time, it’ll be better if I can control the angle and the speed.”

Marco lies back, exhaling heavily. You straddle him again, and his hands slide up your thighs. You can tell he’s steadying himself. Swallowing thickly, he asks, “You sure you’ll be ok? Is it going to fit?”

Your chest clenches. At a time like this, he’s thinking about you. Above all the emotions swirling inside you—excitement, lust, nervousness, all of it—you feel safe and important. You couldn’t be more grateful to be with someone like Marco. You hope this thing between the two of you can turn into something that lasts.

You kiss him deep and slow, rekindling the fire between you and topping it off with a sweet peck to his forehead. “Yes. I want you.”

His hands slide to your waist. “I want you too.”

With one more kiss, you reach below you, positioning him at your entrance, and sink down. As the first few inches slip in, your eyes widen and Marco’s hands clamp down tight. “Fuck,” you both curse at almost the same time.

He’s so thick. It’s all you can think about as you work him inside you, pulling out before pushing further down with each rock of your body. He’s filling you up. He’s splitting you open. It’s incredible.

You moan as your cunt sucks him in, and before you really know it, you’re as fully seated as you can be. There might be an inch or so that you just can’t fit, not today. It doesn’t matter—he feels fucking perfect for you.

Clenching involuntarily, you hold yourself in place as you acclimate to the stretch. Your hips prickle with heat, and you can only hope you’ll feel this tomorrow and be reminded of how it felt to be this full—to remember the absolute pleasure of being the first one to ever be filled by him.

Marco’s jaw drops as he rubs your hips, the tops of your thighs, anywhere he can reach. “You doing ok?” you pant.

Marco groans and nods. Words come huskily. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, feels good.”

His lashes flutter. “Can you move?”

“Mmhmm.” Pacing yourself, you grind up and down, tucking your hips to guide him to your sweet spot with each thrust. Overcome with the need to be as close as possible, you fold, pressing yourself closer to his chest.

With his hot hands guiding you, Marco huffs in your ear, and you ride. Finding your rhythm and steadily increasing it, he arches to meet you as he rolls your hips down. Intensity crescendos, passion breaking over you in waves and weeks of longing pouring over your bodies until it reaches its climax. You move as one until you hit critical mass and Marco takes the lead.

Moaning low and shallow, Marco slams into you over and over, driving you to the edge with a sharp cry, and you snap. It hits you in surges, your prolonged pulses dragging pathetic moans from your throat until you finally clamp down and force Marco to the other side with you. He whines until he chokes on it, his cock throbbing until he’s spent.

As much as you just want to collapse on top of him, your hips are screaming, so you carefully pull him out before curling into his side. You lie together, Marco’s arms around you, pulling you close in the crinkly twin bed. Between breaths, he kisses your lips, your cheeks, your neck before tucking your head under his chin, holding you in the still and quiet after the storm.

You trace constellations in the freckles on his chest. “So. How was it?”

“Worth it,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to your crown.

–

That night, around the campfire late in the evening, no one mentions it when you show up wearing Marco’s big red hoodie. Nobody asks where you were during free time or questions why you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other during the free-throw competition after dinner. The most you get is a wink and finger gun from Ymir, but she keeps her big mouth shut, and you love her for it. Everyone probably knows, or at least suspects, and maybe they’ll tease you for it later, but for tonight, they grant you peace.

After making you each a s’more, Marco wraps the both of you in his blanket. Despite your sticky smiles, you lean your head on his shoulder, one hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat under it.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list

[firefly--bright]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ episode one ; pilot !

➷ episode soundtrack.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

➷ Sunday, 12:12 p.m.

"-and the commute was just too much. I'd have to get up at, like, five just so I could reach campus on time, you know, and most days- most days I couldn't go back home after working at Smith's for so long, so I just ended up crashing at my ex's place, or sometimes at my best friends place." you say, your hands articulating your point, gesturing in the air as you sat on a couch chair that really had no job being this comfortable.

you smile nervously at your hosts. they seemed nice enough, you suppose, but you felt like they were seizing you up, like an animal up for adoption, trying to weigh all of the pros and cons of living with you.

the one on the far right of the couch - you think his name is Connie, you're not sure - has his forearms leaning on his knees, observing your every move, every blink with a slight squint in his usually large eyes. the one in the middle - had you seen him somewhere? - was doing the exact opposite of his room mate. his back was supported by the back of the couch, sitting himself as comfortably as he could, arms crossed over his chest. he had a blank look on his face and you noticed his jaw clenching and unclenching while you spoke. his eyes didn't leave you. from the moment you had stepped into the apartment with a small box of donuts from your shift at the café, he had not stopped looking at you. you were sure he probably didn't have eyelids because you hadn't seen him blink even once.

the only person that provides you any sort of comfort was the one sitting next to him, wearing a light brown sweater that covered his arms up till his elbows, the sleeves bunched up. he smiled gently at you, nodding at your ten minute long rant and if you knew more about him then maybe you'd assume that he was trying to calm you down.

"that sounds tiring," he says. you wave your hand infront of your face with a shrug and a smile. "it wasn't that bad until the start of this semester with the workload and stuff," you say.

the other two hadn't said anything. honestly, it would've been better if it were just you and marco talking, that way you would've been considerably less nervous.

the one on the far right took a breath, finally speaking up. "can you cook?" he asks. that's the first time you heard his voice, and it's a little surprising, but not as much as his question.

"Connie-" marco starts, but Connie jumps to his own defence. "what? she should be able to take care of herself!"

the one in the middle - you assumed he was jean - rolled his eyes. "we all know that's not why you're asking." he mutters, but it's loud enough for everyone to hear. "is that really all you think of me?" Connie retorts, putting a hand on his chest. marco raises his hands placatingly, trying to say something but it's, again, cut off by jean's (you wonder if anyone in this apartment has the freedom of speech), "I try not to think about you at all."

"after everything we've been through?"

"we haven't been through any-"

"what happened to being together until the end?"

"guys, please, not no-"

"we are not engaged,"

you clear your throat. the bickering is not bothering. if you really think about it, it reminds you of home, of a life before college. it's a little nostalgic, but you have to get back to your shift at the café in an hour and you really didn't have the time to allow yourself to be entertained by this.

"the apartment is great," you say. the three of them look at you, stopping all bickering immediately. jean clears his throat as well. "thanks." he says.

"how do you know she meant it for you, jean?" Connie says. there's a small smirk on his face, the one that you have when you willingly mess with noor.

he struck gold - jean clenches his jaw tighter, if that was possible and it strikes gold again.

you know where you've seen jean. it's not really a one off thing, but you know you've spotted him across campus, carrying a coffee that you made earlier that day, sporting a hat over his ashy blonde hair. you'd spotted him at the bus, sitting in the back seat, with his head propped up against the window, headphones on his ears. you spotted him in the graphics studio, clicking the mouse and tapping on the keyboard of the spare computers as you sat far behind him, glancing at what he was working on.

you didn't mean to be a stalker, really, but it was inevitable that the two of you crossed paths considering the fact that you had a couple overlapping lectures in the same parts of the uncomfortably large campus.

jean was the beautiful stranger.

you blinked, keeping that information locked up in your head. what he didn't know wouldn't kill him, and he certainly did not need to know about how you'd been trying to seek him out on campus, trying to see a familiar face that would bring you any sort of ground over the past few months.

glancing at marco - who looked at you apologetically - you looked back at the other two, still bickering. marco shook his head, getting up from the couch, inaudibly prompting you to do the same, leading you to the kitchen.

you weren't kidding when you said the apartment was great - it was spacious enough to feel roomy but not cold and empty. every corner felt like it had been lived in, like it had been breathed on, like no cleaner could ever remove the marks of the smudged fingerprints on the walls. you hadn't had the time to decorate your own apartment, if it could even be called that, making the space a little less livable than you'd have expected from yourself.

"I'm sorry about them," marco starts, looking at you with the same expression he had been sporting the entire time you were there. you laughed softly and shook your head. "it's okay. I'm used to it." you say.

marco doesn't press further, smiling gently himself. "I'm glad you liked the apartment," his eyes glance over behind him towards the narrow hallway that leads to everybody's rooms, "we don't know how many more room mate applications we'll get, but you're a pretty strong candidate up till now. considering, you know, you're our first one." he says. his wording makes you feel like it's supposed to; a business interaction, and you're reminded again, how this isn't your home. how you're a stranger to them and even if their banter made you look back to earlier years, your rambling probably hadn't done the same with them.

you nod, smiling politely. "thank you. im glad you think so."

➷ Sunday, 7:59 p.m.

"oh my god a dog? how old is he? do you have pictures?" noor asked, her brown eyes lighting up with excitement. you laugh a little, shaking your head at the questions.

"i don't have pictures cause apparently the dog - polo, by the way - is being babysat by Marco's friend. said he didnt want to have polo running around cause he thought I'd get overwhelmed." you said, shrugging, "he did ask me if I was allergic, though."

"wait, so, that's it? besides freckles they didn't even talk to you? Baldy asked you if you could cook and emo mullet barely spoke to you? that's it?" noor asked, taking a sip of the coffee you had given her. the two of you were waiting for the bus, the sun having dipped a little more than an hour ago.

"i mean... I don't blame them. they barely even know me." you say, rolling your shoulders to try and get rid of the tension in them.

noor sighed. "yeah, but that's the point. they're supposed to get to know you and make sure you're not, like, a creep."

"I'm a creep, I'm a wei-" you start singing, making noor join you with a laugh. "I'm a weirdo," she sings back, her tone changing down with the "o" to mimic the infamous Radiohead song.

you share a laugh, shaking your head. "I'm just glad that something's happening, you know? like I did something to move out. I tried, and that counts."

noor nods decisively. "yep. also this coffee fucks, what is it?"

you smile widely, proud of your own creation. "it's a new thing I tried. strawberry goes surprisingly well with coffee," you say, "and cinnamon."

"god it's amazing. you have to open your own cafe one day,"

"i mean I didn't invent the thing,"

"still." she insists, opening the lid of the cup a little to smell it, humming afterwards.

she didn't have to do this. waiting with you at the bus stand wasn't even supposed to be in her routine, but it somehow got added there without your permission. her dorm was walking distance from the campus, near her department, too. she called it a great deal, and you agreed, so she really didn't have to wait for the bus with you. but she did.

you were glad to have her. you didn't have anyone besides her, in all honesty. her shoulder had always been comforting and warm to lean on, ever since you had met. she left you with smiling lips and a full heart at the end of the day. senior year of highschool hadn't been the kindest to either of you, so you made up for it by being kind to eachother, and for noor, you were sure that it came easy. it was easy to believe that she could replace the sun because she had replaced the sun for you. she replaced all meaning of the world by just holding your hand.

and the world agreed, you were sure, because her smiles attracted so many wonderful people. some not as much, but she seemed to attract beauty everywhere she went. she became it.

sometimes, when you were actively trying not to think about how cold your bed felt, you thought about how you would not be surprised if she talked to you less. not in the sense that you didn't trust her, of course not, but in the sense that she could have the world in the palm of her hands. why would she elect to hold your palm after that offer? and trying not to think about this only led to thinking more about this, more about everything. but now was not the time to do so.

no, because you had things to look forward to. because noor was sitting beside you, despite the cool late january air with the warmth she provided. she smiled as she told you about how she had a film assignment that she was looking forward to because she had so many good ideas. you leaned back and listened to her like your life depended on it. maybe it did.

➷ Sunday, 8:17 p.m.

"got a new applicant." jean said, swallowing the bite of breakfast-for-dinner eggs that marco had decided to share. the latter stood near the stove, one hand on his hip and the other in the air with a spatula, waiting for the pancakes to cook, checking for bubbles near the edges like Jean's mom taught him to. marco hummed. Connie leaned over to jean, peeking at his phone, trying to see who texted about the apartment. jean furrowed his brows with a slight scowl, hiding his screen from Connie's eyes, who pouted dramatically.

jean tried not to laugh at his expression, but a small smile slipped out anyway. "his names floch," he said, not acknowledging Marco's little whoop of excitement after flipping his first non-burnt and perfectly golden brown pancake.

"ugh. i know him. hes such a know-it-all." Connie says, waving his fork in the air. marco sets the plate of almost all burnt pancakes (except for the one) in the centre of the table. "don't speak with your mouth full, con." he says.

"you think everyone's a know-it-all. have you considered that maybe you're a little dumb?"

"I'm expectionally smart." he says, sitting up straight.

there's a small beat of silence.

"did you mean exceptionally, connie?" marco asks, pausing from cutting his pancake.

another beat of silent.

jean snickers.

Connie rolls his eyes. "whatever the word is. i think we should choose the girl that came in today, if you guys even care."

jean glances at him from his plate. "we should decide that after going through the applicants."

marco nods. "yeah, we should give it atleast a week or two."

Connie sighs. "okay, but Im pretty sure she's the one."

jean drops his fork on the table, having finished his plate and leaning back into the chair. "seriously? you didn't even talk to her-"

"i did!"

"you asked her if she knew how to cook and she didn't even answer. how have you already made up your mind?"

Connie shrugs. "she tolerated our argument."

"it was barely an argum-"

"not a lot of people can do that." Connie says.

"you guys can get loud," marco says.

"that's what she said." Connie mumbles with a small laugh. jean smiles, covering it up with his glass of water.

"she did seem pretty nice. but we should still wait for other people. who knows?" marco shrugs, "maybe we'll find someone better."

"well, whoever you two decide on, just know my vote's going to be a no if it's not her." he says, leaning his head on his palm, his elbow against the table.

"why are you rooting so hard for a person you barely know Connie? just because she's pretty?" jean asks, equal parts curious and suspicious.

Connie smirks at a joke jean fails to understand. "sasha knows her, I'm pretty sure. her name sounded familiar but then I called sasha about it, and she said she works at Smith's with her."

"so basically you're on her side because of neo-nepotism?" marco asks with a small smile.

"i dont know what that means, but yeah, probably!" Connie agrees, a wide smile gracing his face. "besides," he continues, the smile now turning into a small smirk, "jean thinks she's pretty."

jean sits up straight, his jaw clenching. "when the hell did I say that?"

marco sighs, gulping his food down.

"literally just now when you asked me why I was rooting for her. you admitted that you thought she was pretty." Connie says. jean really thinks he's fucking with him. some times, jean can't tell what goes on in his friend's head, a gap that's bridged by sasha and marco. but the former is currently in her own small apartment with her boyfriend, and the latter is too busy shoving food into his mouth and avoiding jeans eye.

jean sputters. "i think all women are pre-"

"okay slut," Connie mutters.

"I'm not a slut, will you stop calling me that I am not a common who-"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

⁀➷ previous episode ! (introducing; apartment 201) ➷ next episode ; the news !

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⁀➷ taglist ➷ @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @cherrypieyourface

⁀➷ a/n ➷ first chapter done!! 832982 more to go. i have a lot of Stuff Planned for this fic I just hope I don't get swept up with too much work (they say, with a pile of assignments to be completed). i hope you guys liked this :) I'm very sorry for any blurry images, my phone's screenshotting method is buggy.

⁀➷ comments, likes, reblogs are always appreciated!

line dividers by @peachesofteal

[ukeshik]

Is someone interested in some writings with Marco Bodt and Bertolt Hoover?

I really have ideas with them, and I want to write it, but I think it’s not interesting for another people and no one should read it.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

This is a little strange but can I request marco (if you write for him) and jean with a reader with wings? Maybe they found out she has wings in the 104th or they found her injured or something. Whatever you want

pairing: jean x angel!reader x marco

wc: 1k

tw: fighting, injury, cursing, sfw, blood/wounds, short & simple story

summary: jean and marco come face to face with a life changing realization when they discover you hurt during the battle of trost.

a/n: this is very short, my apologies. if i didn’t make it short, it’d be a thousand pages and i do not have the time for that lol

“jean!” marco’s usually calm voice now rang out in a shrill tone, barely heard over the thudding of titan’s footsteps down below. jean, who had trained himself to always hear marco’s voice, knew what marco had meant when he called for him. marco had found you.

minutes earlier, you were zipping through the air. you, headed to wall rose, were determined to stop the flow of titans pouring in through the massive hole. it was jean’s idea to catch them at the entry before they could wreak any more havoc on the town of trost.

jean knew he’d fucked up, disobeying orders by sending the three of you towards the wall when you were supposed to be hanging back. he knew it the moment he saw a titan intercept your path. the line falling short, your body’s momentum was cut too soon causing you to plummet. jean watched in horror. it was slow motion as you fell, watching you reach out for something to catch you to no avail.

marco and jean were too far away to help you in time. you fell, panic filling your lungs all the way down. your vision faded to black, the height from which you fell was too high; you would have never survived the impact if it weren't for your secret.

“jean!” marco called again, ripping jean from whatever thoughts raced through his mind. he pointed down to an alley where he could just see strands of your hair underneath a pile of debris. jean’s eyes followed marco’s fingers. they widened at the sight of you, face down on the pavement, still.

jean launched downwards, not caring if he left marco behind or not. he needed to get to you. you were his number one priority and he was the reason you were in this situation. marco’s quick to follow him. jean and marco’s footsteps were near silent on the ground except for the crunch of gravel below their feet.

jean was the first to fall to his knees, digging rocks and pieces of wood off of your unconscious body. marco drop[ed next to him, joining in on the process. they were able to rid you of all the debris but not of the blood and dirt staining you.

marco tried to pull you up by your wrists, relying on his strength alone, but jean stopped him. marco turned his head around, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. why would he try to stop him? did he not want to save you? or were you already gone?

“marco…” jean started with a quivering voice. “look.” he whispered as a shaky hand rose to point out something on your back. there were two slits on the back of your jacket which should have revealed your tender, smooth, soon to bruise skin. instead, there were two parallel weeping wounds. it was the biggest source of your blood loss. there was bits of scar tissue around the cuts.

“what..is that?” marco whispered, his voice just above a hush. instinctively, he reached a hand to trace the edges of your jacket, just around your wounds.

jean and marco had never seen any scratch or cut like this, if you could even call them that. they were parallel, almost methodical. those weren’t an accident, there was no way in hell. and it looks like you’d been cut there more than once, obvious because of the scar tissue outlining it. somebody had done this to you, jean was so sure of it. anger surged through him. the thought of somebody hurting you like this…over and over. he just couldn’t bare it.

when marco’s fingers just brushed so slight against your skin, a gasp broke from the grasps of your throat and you shot up backwards. you weren’t sure who’s eyes were wider, yours or theirs. marco’s hand hovered in mid air, the tip of his finger with a smudge of blood on it. confidently, you released your wings. a visual explosion of white, flapping once to create a gust of wind, blowing your hair. you had been discovered. it was too late to do anything; they had seen you. they had seen your wings. you leaped to your feet, ready for flight.

you forgot just how quick jean’s reflexes were. his hand wrapped around your wrist before you could take off. he said nothing as his eyes bore deep into your soul, different emotions flashing through them. your mouth opened as if to say something but marco had cut you off.

“you were too late.” it’s a statement, a confident one at that. his pointer finger and thumb rested on his chin. marco was too damn smart for his own good and always had been.

“what?” jean snaps, fear and confusion dripping off of his tongue.

“you tried to save yourself.” marco looked back at you, peeling his eyes off of jean. he shook his head and continued speaking in a calm manner. “you were falling. you wanted to save yourself” he repeated. “it took longer than you thought. you were too late and you hit the ground.”

“marco…” you whispered, jean’s grip still tight. marco was being compassionate in this moment; you could always count on him to be just that. he wasn’t asking a thousand questions. he wasn’t afraid or curious. he was thinking logically as if to not overwhelm you. or he was studying you.

jean, on the other hand, wasn’t as relaxed as his best friend. “what the fuck? (y/n), you have fucking wings. marco, do you see that? tell me you see that shit right now, marco.”

marco just laughed, taking the attention away from you. he ignored the baffled look his friend shot his way. “jean, relax.” his words did little to soothe jean. you took jean’s words out of his mouth.

“why are you so calm?”

“it’s a shock, yeah.” he rubs his neck, a sneaky blush dancing across his freckles face. “but, i mean, titans exist, right? maybe your wings aren’t the strangest thing.”

“it’s pretty damn strange.” jean shakes his head and palms his forehead.

click here to read my jean fic 🤍

[minkyungseokie]

ꜱʜɪɴɢᴇᴋɪ ɴᴏ ᴋʏᴏᴊɪɴ

𝔖𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬! 𝔰𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬! 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔷𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬!𝔖𝔲𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔢 𝔫𝔬 𝔤𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔦 𝔴𝔞

𝔦𝔪𝔞 𝔨𝔬𝔫𝔬 𝔱𝔬𝔨𝔦 𝔫𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔫𝔦

𝔖𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬! 𝔰𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬! 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔷𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔶𝔬!

𝔖𝔲𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔲 𝔟𝔢𝔨𝔦 𝔪𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔦 𝔴𝔬

𝔸𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟 𝔸𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕥

Nothing yet….

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣

Nothing yet…

𝔹𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕥 ℍ𝕠𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣

Nothing yet…

𝔼𝕣𝕖𝕟 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕣

Nothing yet…

𝔼𝕣𝕨𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕙

Nothing yet…

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕂𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕚𝕟

Nothing yet…

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕚 𝔸𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟

Nothing yet…

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕠 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕥

Nothing yet…

𝕄𝕚𝕜𝕖 ℤ𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕤

Nothing yet…

ℝ𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕦𝕟

Nothing yet…

𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕡𝕝𝕖

Nothing yet …

𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

Nothing yet…

© All of the works on this blog belong to Minkyungseokie and I do not give anyone permission to copy or translate them

[missglittersmiles]

Sound Mind & Heart CH. 1

AOT Various × Fem! Reader

The stars looked exceptionally pretty tonight. The light breeze made the leaves rustle softly. Three people sat on a tree branch closely together. None of them spoke as a melancholic feeling hung over them. They knew this would be their last late-night meeting ever. Graduation was in a few days, and there will be a small celebratory party for the 104th cadets tomorrow night.

It started out with Marco wanting to improve his ODM skills. He knew he'd never touch an ODM gear when he joined the military police. But he wouldn't be given the choice if he didn't improve his usage of it. He'd ask y/n to train him because he saw her sneak into the woods with her ODM gear on after curfew multiple times.

The girl was flattered. "I'll help you train, but you have to agree to marry me." She held Marco's hand like it was made of porcelain. "Don't worry. I'll pay for the rings. Just tell me your ring size, and I'll figure out everything else." He opened his mouth to respond, yet he couldn't find any. The poor boy was too flustered and taken back by her reaction. She let his hand go with a light chuckle. "I'm just partially joking, but you can train with me."

The first few nights were a struggle. y/n couldn't stop babying Marco, like any sudden movement would break him. And using ODM gear in the dark wasn't easy for him. y/n nearly had a heart attack every time he bumped into a tree. Still, Marco was slowly making some progress.

It wasn't long before Jean joined their late-night training. He was moping about Eren getting a better grade than him in their latest test. Marco invited him along to do some extra training with him and y/n. Jean turned down the offer. Explaining that he was good enough to not need extra training, but he'd eventually cave in and join them.

It was supposed to be about improving each other's skills, but it quickly became y/n and Jean teaching Marco the best techniques for using ODM. The two had very different teaching styles. y/n constantly showered him in praise while Jean focused more on the actual training. Leading the two to slightly bicker, though it never got too out of hand. y/n never seemed to take anything seriously.

"Still plan on joining the scouts?" Jean asked. He didn't bother looking at y/n and she didn't look back at him either. They both just looked up at the night sky. Marco stole a glance at y/n, hoping to see her consider her options or hesitate at the very least.

"Yeah. Of course." There was no delay in her response, which saddened the two. Though it seemed to bother Jean more. "You're just going to die out there. Honestly, you're better off joining the garrison. There's no need to play the hero." Marco didn't like Jean's aggressive tone but did agree with him to an extent.

"Aw, are you worried about little old me?" y/n gave him a cheeky smile. Her voice was too light for this important conversation. She swung her legs off the tree branch with a sort of excitement. This seemed to anger Jean more.

"You could have easily been one of the top ten if you didn't sleep through all those lectures. Do you have the same death wish as that dumb suicidal maniac? Or do you really think that there's a future outside the walls?" His irritation hid his concern and fear.

She stopped swinging her legs and looked down for a moment. She stared at the tree branches down below with a sort of thoughtfulness etched into her expression. The two waited for her response, one being more patient than the other. Marco placed his hand over hers and said, "No matter what you do, y/n, I'll support you." She looked at his sincere smile for a moment before returning one herself.

Jean swiftly popped the tender moment. "You're going to support her in getting herself killed?" He pointed out with gritted teeth. Marco looked away, a little abashed. He responded with uncertainty, "No. I didn't mean it like that. You know what I mean."

How the two acted so nonchalant about the whole thing irked Jean. y/n, their friend during these 4 years of training, was marching to their death with a smile. And all Marco would say was essentially measly good luck. Just as Jean was about to spit out venomous words at the two, y/n spoke up.

"There's life outside the walls."

Jean's frustration was calmed for a moment by y/n's statement. The way she said it so confidently made them look at her with curiosity. Waiting for her to explain herself further. "What do you mean?" Marco asked; his eyes were filled with interest. She stared into his eyes as if searching for something. After a moment she'd look back at the sky and said, "I believe." Jean asked her what the hell she meant by that. "I believe there's life outside the walls. That's all." Jean rolled his eyes and Marco thought about the idea.

Marco shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I guess it's possible." He didn't want to crush y/n's belief because he didn't at least entertain the idea. "The only thing outside the walls are titans and death." Jean snickered at his friends' optimistic naivety. Unsurprisingly, y/n let out a chuckle. Sometimes it felt like y/n couldn't be knocked down, and even if she was, she'd still be laughing to herself. "Yeah, maybe. But how could we know if we don't go out there?" She gave Jean a small smile.

"Don't expect me to cry at your funeral when I hear you got eaten by a titan. That is if you still have remains to be buried." Marco called Jean out for his crass remark. Telling him to apologize for what he said, all while y/n laughed.

She put her arms around both of their shoulders and pulled them close to her. "Jean, Marco…You two have made every day so much better. Honestly, it's going to hurt a lot when we split up, but knowing you two have each other when you become an MP has brought me peace. I think…I think I'd do just about anything for you two." A sniffle came from Marco. y/n could feel his shoulders shake a little; she didn't have to look at him to know that he was crying. She tried to keep up her smile and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"If you'll do anything for us, then join the garrison." y/n quickly blinked away any tears. She didn't want to show how emotional their final time here was making her. She was upbeat, if not wishy-washy. That's how she wanted them to remember her. Not the girl who broke down in tears because she'd be left alone with people like Eren who were crazy enough to join the scouts.

"I said I think I'd do anything for you. And that's not one of them. Hey, but when you become MPs, how about you send me some candy through a letter or something? I’m sure candy from the interior is heavenly. I asked Annie to send me some when she gets there, but you never know with her. Plus, she's greedy with her sweets." y/n started babbling on. Trying to stray further from that conversation. Marco was too busy wiping away his tears, and it didn't seem like Jean was even listening. Too busy thinking to himself.

Just as y/n was starting to reminisce about their first day here, Jean finally snapped out of it. He pushed her arm off his shoulders and gave her an intense look. "If you join the garrison, then I'll join it too." The two looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

"But the whole reason you're here is to live in the interior." Marco stated. He was completely dumbfounded by Jean's sudden shift. Jean let out a frustrated sigh, "y/n, you shouldn't have to throw your life away. There's so many people that care about you more than you realize. The scouts aren't worth your life."

y/n's heart felt heavier with each word he spoke. She could feel her facade cracking under his gaze. Then Marco spoke up, "I'll join the garrison as well! We'll be together till the end!" His voice was soft but held a bright determination. y/n couldn't take it longer and let out a choked cry. Tears streamed down her face.

She swiftly pushed her arm to her eyes. A poor attempt at hiding her tears. She could feel a hand rubbing her back to provide some type of comfort. Yet it only made her cry harder. They were too good for her. So selfless compared to her. She was a mere insect and they were everything but that. Everyone here was so much better than her in multiple ways. It was almost unfair.

After a moment of weeping, y/n croaked, "Write to me how nice it looks in Sina." Jean looked at her disbelief. He and Marco are willing to throw away their dream of joining the military police so that they could be together. Yet she's still determined to die beyond the walls.

Jean didn't doubt her skill. Again, she could have easily been one of the top ten, but she threw it away. She threw away any good opportunity for herself. There was a difference between training dummies and real titans. The thought of those disgusting things getting near any of them sent a chill down his spine. There were so many ways one could die out there. She'd be considered lucky if her corpse wasn't completely eaten. Or maybe she'd be marked as MIA.

At what point should one give up on someone? Jean can't tell if she's stupid or ignorant for throwing everything away. Jean stood up. "You're fucking worse than that suicidal maniac." With that, he used his ODM gear to zoom through the trees and back to camp. The two were silent for a moment. Watching Jean disappear into the night. "I'd tell you to take care of Jean, but I know I don't have to worry about that." y/n said, appearing to be unbothered by the whole thing.

"Of course. You can always count on me, but..." Marco trailed off for a moment. She waited patiently and took her arm off his shoulder. Swinging her legs as she picked at the tree bark. "But promise me you'll come alive back from every expedition. No matter what it takes." She held herself back from recoiling at his words. She subconsciously started twirling a strand of hair with one of her fingers. "I'll try." She said it without looking at him.

"Promise me. Promise Jean. Promise us that you'll live." His voice was surprisingly stern. 'I wanted this to be a nice night.' y/n thought to herself with a sigh. "I promise you, Marco Bodt, my freckled fiend, and Jean Kirstein, my trusty steed, that I'll try to come back alive." She forced a smile. "y/n," Marco said with a frown.

She was quick to interrupt him. "Just smile for me." She held both sides of his face. "Just between you and me. I think your smile looks prettier than Jean's." He scoffed a laugh before pulling her hands off his face and giving her a smile. "There it is! There's my winning smile! Come on, let's head back before someone notices we're out."

"But you'll try to live, won't you?"

"Yes, my dearest. Now stop worrying about that." She hid her slight annoyance behind a laugh and a dismissive hand wave.

Next Chapter

Sound Mind & Heart Masterlist

[variousxreader]

Send in any and all requests, short, long,

Horror to angst to fluff to smut

Check my pinned for deets

[darklcy]

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 | 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : armin arlert x reader, slight! marco x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.4k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: slow burn, takes place in season 1, bad language, mentions of shooting, physical fighting, reader has a bit of a struggle being social. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: training begins, and new friendships blossom. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

….

….

Is this right?

You stiffly observed the straps that laid criss-crossed over your body, checking the rear view of your shoulders and legs. A frown circled your lips at the discomfort. The uniform was not light, nor did it feel like you could properly move beyond walking. The maneuver balance assessment was already a failure.

A whine from the other mirror grabs your attention. Mikasa pulled, pulled, and pulled on Sasha’s harness and pinned the buckles together, tight and seamless. Christa dutifully checked over her handiwork on Ymir’s uniform as well as her own. Even Annie Leonhart herself, as stoic and isolated she’d been the entire first day, was swept up in conversation with Mina in the corner. Though Mina requested assistance from the blonde, she didn’t offer much outside of a glare.

You bit down a grin. Mina was fun to observe, how her mannerisms bubbled out and the laughter she was able to create. It was comical to see her charm try to work its way inside Annie, who was probably better off left alone. 

But when breakfast came along, it surprised you when Mina joined the opposite side of your table. 

“Mind if I sit here?”

She caught you mid bite. You shook your head with cheeks stuffed in bread.

“Okay, good. You looked like you needed some company.”

You swallowed.

…Suppose you did. You weren’t really looking forward to another lonely meal. Minus Marco’s introduction, the dinner table was empty. 

“Good morning, [Y/N]!”

A familiar greeting that scarily matched the person you were just thinking of. 

The freckled boy beamed while passing by your table, joining Jean and his own clique further down the room. Your gaze lingered on his back. Mina noticed and chirped up. 

“Do you know Marco, [Y/N]?”

You shrugged. “He sat with me last night.”

She sneered, corners of her lips sharp and pointy.

“Uh huh..”

The weird smile made a laugh bubble in your stomach, making you cup a palm over your mouth. Her expression immediately faltered.

“What?”

“...Don’t look at me like that.”

The muffled, breaded sentence only intensified your giggling, with Mina joining in on the other side. It was so dumb and childish, but maybe that’s what was so funny in the first place.

 The simplicity of it all, compared to what lay ahead.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

“IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL RUNNING, ARLERT? BECAUSE ALL I SEE IS A PATHETIC MAGGOT ABOUT TO BE EATEN AND BECOME SHIT! YOU BETTER GET A MOVE ON, ASSHOLE!”

“LENS, BETTER GET THOSE LEGS MOVING, GIRL! UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE STOMPED TO DEATH, I SUGGEST YOU START RUNNING LIKE YOU FUCKING MEAN IT!”

“FOR SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO JOIN THE MILITARY POLICE, YOU ARE NOT SHOWING A LOT OF PROMISE, KIRSCHSTEIN! FUCKING MOVE IT!” 

This is hell. 

“ARE YOU TOO BUSY TWIDDLING YOUR THUMBS TO FUCKING RUN, [L/N]?! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND PICK UP THE PACE!”

Absolute hell. 

Shadis shadowed like a hawk on horseback, hollering at anyone who lacked speed or allowed their exhaustion to take over…which is exactly the position you found yourself at.

Leading the pack up ahead neck-and-neck was Mikasa Ackerman and Reiner Braun, who both had not been shouted at once. In fact, the two carried themselves with blissful grace, like this excursion was just a regular outing. Not too far behind them was Eren Jaeger, Bertholdt Hoover, Annie Leonhart, and even Marco, who clenched his teeth and pushed his body more in order to keep up. 

A curse from Jean beside you told of his state, his own battles to outrun the surrounding cadets not looking bright. 

“ARLERT, SERIOUSLY? HAUL SOME ASS!”

You spared a sly peek at the blonde. 

His face was flushed to a vibrant red, with his breath wafting out in puffs and wheezes. A sizable gap formed between him and the herd. Any second now and he might stumble over his feet.

…You turned back to the front. You’d feel sorry for him if it weren’t for your own legs wanting to falter and break. It almost seemed like the backpack was growing heavier and heavier with each passing second. The way rankings were going, you were performing very average, and that fueled your frustrations even more.

No matter how much you pleaded with your legs to carry you faster, they refused to listen, leaving you smack dab in the middle. You wished to be up front, surpassing Mikasa and Reiner and earn the respect of your stone headed instructor, but your wishes went unheard. 

Jean’s back entered your peripheral as he remarkably jogged past you. Damn it! The finish line was just a couple more meters, if you could just push a little more…

“HALT!”

A chorus of sighs resounded as the hoard stopped, eagerly swooping in breaths of air to calm the fire in their lungs. Hunched over onto your knees, a bead of sweat dropping onto the forest floor, you felt your nose scrunch up.

It’s fucking hell.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Hand-to-hand combat followed right after.

Basic rules and guidelines on safety and protocol had already been shared, but a male instructor briefly went over them again once everyone lined up. He cleared his throat after speaking.

“I will now pair you up: Sasha Braus and Mina Karolina.”

You watched as the two greeted each other and jogged away to an open space.

“Mikasa Ackerman and Jean Kirschtein.”

The boy flushed pink as Mikasa walked over to lead him away.

“Hannah Diament and Franz Kefka.”

Like lovesick swans, the trainees giggled bashfully once they heard their names, practically skipping away.

“Eren Jaeger and [Y/N] [L/N].”

The brunette turned over his shoulder to meet your eyes. You haven’t spoken to him much, though you were fully aware of his affectionate alias ‘suicidal bastard of the 104th.’ First week of training and this nickname had stuck like hard glue. 

“So, [Y/N], you remember how this goes?”

He’d already begun stretching his arms out by the time you found a spot.

“I do.”

Neck tilting from side to side, your joints popped and cracked, releasing any tension. You moved to your shoulders and knuckles.

“This will be interesting then. I haven’t had the chance to see you fight. I did hear about you winning against Connie the other day, you know.”

He cracked a grin. You lightly scoffed.

“I don’t really consider that a victory…he was just too busy messing around.”

Eren arched a brow.

“Oh? Then, if you win against me, will you consider this a victory?”

His fists rose to his face, bracing himself for impact. Extending your right foot back, your legs bent in a semi lounge with clenched knuckles to your chest.

“...Depends on how it goes.”

You crouched when Eren leaped forward with a fist aimed directly at your cheekbone, instead brazing the top of your skull. Before he could gather himself you stood up to slam your head against his chin, throwing his face backwards. His feet toppled off balance allowing you to hit him in the center of his ribcage. He coughed and heaved, pausing for a couple moments to beat his breath.

You gritted your teeth in pain. Ow ow owww. 

This was exactly the reason you disliked the combat drills..!

The end result was always the same, both parties scuffed up and bruised. Ironically enough, fighting was something you found to be kind of good at. Stamina was still an issue, marksmanship wasn’t a favorite. On the contrary, the 3D maneuver gear topped the rest. It was a popular opinion amongst the cadets, but it was a practice that didn’t feel like training. Flying with the breeze, feeling the wind on your skin as you let go…

WHAM

A heavy fist whacked the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.

…You’d so much rather be doing that than to be sparring with Eren Jaeger right now. 

“Hey! You’re not daydreaming on me, are you?”

You weakly glared at the leather boots planted in front of you. 

“...No.”

Eren sighed.

“Shadis will lose his shit on you if you don’t get up.”

“Ok, I’m up.”

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

A miniscule aching started bothering the right side of your face once it was time for marksmanship drills. The upside though was that this marked the halfway point of training for the day. And fortunately for you, Marco, who had been outshining everyone in this practice, stood right next to you, cheerfully readying his firearm.

…Somehow the image of his expression while holding a deadly weapon did not stir you the right way. 

Eyeing the cutout of the human figure in front of you, you pulled back the trigger and raised the weapon up, closing one eye to aim.

BANG

A bullet cut the wood seamlessly in the left shoulder. You lowered the firearm. Staring at the residue, you began to readjust your grip, and readied yourself to shoot once more.

“Hey, [Y/N]? Hold on a second.”

Marco’s voice halted your actions. You turned over to glance at him when he trotted over to you.

“..Is something wrong?”

He didn’t say anything as he examined your stance. He silently circled around your body, making his way to your frontside. He then hummed.

“You’re holding it wrong.”

…Huh?

“Pardon?”

He chuckled. 

“Lemme see your aim.”

Slowly readying the rifle, your cheek leaned in while closing an eye. When you caught Marco’s lingering stare, you warmed.

“Now what?”

You felt his hand move your right elbow upwards and rearranged your finger on the trigger, making sure it was firm rather than the soft grip you originally held. 

“There. Your elbow had to be more leveled with your shoulders, and you had a weak hold. Try it now.”

He stepped away from your weapon, giving you space to shoot, and with a squeeze…

BANG

…A clean shot right in the forehead.

Your mouth hung open.

“That actually worked.”

Looking over to Marco, he grinned at the bewildered expression in your eyes. He didn’t move to adjust you any further, instead finding his way back to his own post. You watched as he walked away.

Marco had done nothing but surprise you since your first conversation with him, and yet he continued to do so. The skin between your brows cinched. 

“Why are you so nice to me?”

The boy paused. Flitting his dark eyes to meet your seeking ones, he cocked his brows.

“That’s kind of a hard question to answer, [Y/N].”

A sheepish smile had you tilting your head.

“There’s no real reason. We’re friends, and friends treat each other nicely, right?”

Your eye contact trailed off to the side. 

“...But even when you first talked to me, you were nice. You didn’t know who I was.”

Marco hummed. 

“I figured with joining the military I could take another leap of faith and talk to new people on the first day. I mean, how could I ever serve the King if I didn’t know how to introduce myself?”

He laughed while facing his cutout target, gun preparing itself in his grasp.

“And…I don’t know, I saw you sitting by yourself, and you looked anxious. I thought talking to you could help you feel more at ease. Did I…read that situation wrong?”

His voice sounded worried, making you slightly panic. He almost appeared guilty from where you stood. 

“Of course not…! I thought it was nice. I’m glad you did.”

Peering at you over the rifle, you could spot his warm eyes and signature smile. You found yourself smiling back the same way. 

“That���s good to hear.”

BANG

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

By the time curfew knocked on the dormitories, your body weighed down on itself like a pile of lead, refusing to budge. The muscles beneath your blood throbbed, and the harness had carved lines of bruises all over your frame. You found home in the comfort of your pillow, eyelids permanently shut and not finding any desire to reopen them ever again.

“Hey, [Y/N, look what I have.”

Sasha practically moaned from beside you. It took every will power in you to simply turn your head in her direction.

“I saved a piece of bread from dinner! I swiped it off Mikasa’s plate. She didn’t even notice!”

Sasha’s lips drooled as she devoured the loaf, crumbs flying all over her face and mattress. Your slow blinks had your eyelids shut again, not really caring about the mess she was making. 

“Sasha, what are you eating?”

Mikasa’s piercing voice startled both you and your bunkmate. You heard her gulp.

“Oh, y’know…jush a schnack.”

She pitifully spoke with the bread still in her mouth. You uneasily reopened your eyes to peek up at the girl who stood behind the ladder. Her tense aura leaked out in shadows that filtered over you and Sasha’s bunk, killing any space of warmth.

“I remember specifically having a piece of bread with my dinner. Do you know what happened to it?”

It was hard to tell if Mikasa was genuinely upset with Sasha or if she was just messing around.

“I..uh, ya know. I-”

Sasha fumbled over her words in a frenzy. This wasn’t the first time a confrontation over her food thievery crimes had happened. Her hunger didn’t keep her from Annie and Mikasa, the two scariest cadets in the whole regiment, but actions have consequences. Perhaps this was her learning lesson. 

“I ate it.”

Sasha made a noise of shock at your words. Mikasa appeared surprised as well, eyes darting over to your tired body.

“I’m sorry. I apologize for Sasha too because she originally thought of the idea, but I took it.”

Mikasa stared at you before closing her eyes with a sigh.

“Make sure to eat your own food next time.”

Turning over her heel, the girl sauntered off back to her own bunk, the shadows leaving with her. Sasha’s hands trapping yours yanked you towards her.

“[Y/N]..! You saved me! But why? You knew it was me.”

You shrugged, a timid smile on your face.

“Just felt like it. You should probably stop stealing Mikasa’s bread, though. She actually seemed a little sad.”

Releasing you, Sasha settled back down on her bed and wiped her crumb-covered face.

“I know, but I can’t help it! It’s just too good.”

You chuckled, turning over to rest on your back. 

“Well after that, I’m pooped. I’m going to sleep. G’night.”

Sasha tossed over to lay on her arm, spine facing you. The cabin was soon laid to rest as well as the candle blew out, signaling the curfew in effect. 

Staring at her back for a brief moment, a pang of fondness hurt your chest, making you nestle deeper into the pillow, feeling its arms wrap around you. 

“Goodnight.”

[shingeki-no-alena]

Lost Promises (Chapter 3)

Marco Bodt x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Cannon AU

Warnings: Blood, injuries, future gore, future spoilers, future character deaths, cheesy moments, reader is Levi’s sister so she’s got some baggage (I’ll add more as they appear!).

Summary: After years of constant pressing, Levi has finally agreed to let his little sister, y/n, join the scouts. On the condition that she goes through the extra training of the cadet corps first, in hopes that it would help make her change her mind.

Chapter 2 || Masterlist || Chapter 4

About a year has passed since Y/n began her training with the cadets. Over that amount of time, she has made friends with most of the girls in her barracks. When she is not hanging out with Marco, she is usually with some of the girls. She has also grown very fond of Sasha and Connie, them usually being able to convince her to have more fun.

As for her and Marco… well, she is completely smitten. After a year of denying and denying, she can now admit to herself that she’s developing feelings for the sweet, freckled boy. Feelings that are not just platonic. She would never tell, though. Just because she has accepted her own feelings doesn’t mean she is anywhere willing to act on them. She needs to focus her mind on her goals so she can get back to her family in the scouts.

Currently, Y/n sat under a tree that stood at the top of a hill. It was a ways walk away from the training grounds. Y/n had discovered this spot on one of her long nature walks she used to calm herself from a stressful day. The only other person that knew about this spot was Marco. She would invite him sometimes since she enjoys his company, and overall calm nature.

Since she has been with the cadets, Y/n has been sending letters back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin, giving them updates and reminders that she is doing fine. That is exactly what she was doing right now. Her pen scribbles against the parchment as the early afternoon breeze flies through her freshly washed hair.

To My Family,

I’ve been doing well lately. I am missing you all deeply still, but I have made friends to keep me company while I work to come back home. My closest friend right now is Marco. I mentioned him before, right? Before you start to freak out, Levi, he’s just a friend and a comrade. I know what I’m here for and I have been working really hard. Besides, he plans to go into a different branch, unsurprisingly. No, Erwin, I do not think I could convince him otherwise. There is, however, another friend I made who has centered his whole goal around joining the scouts. Him and his two childhood friends. He’s so passionate about it, in fact, that it’s almost worrisome. Oh! I have been taking a lot of nature walks. I even found this really peaceful spot no one knows about. It’s a tree on top of a hill. I’m sitting there as I write this. Also, tell Hange that I will be writing her soon in regards to her latest hypothesis.

Alright, well I have to get back soon, so one more thing. Send my love to the rest of Levi squad. Tell them I miss them, and I even miss Ouro’s smartass remarks.

That’s all for now.

Love, Y/n

Y/n smiled as she finished up her letter, imagining them reading it and smiling too. She proceeded to fold up the parchment, tucking it into an envelope, before gathering her belongings and heading back to the training grounds.

It was the cadets’ day off, so the training grounds were practically empty. Before Y/n could open the door to the sleeping quarters she shared with the other girls, the door had already swung open, revealing Hannah. She was one of the girls that Y/n had become friends with. Hannah brightened up seeing Y/n at the door.

“Y/n!” She chimed, grabbing Y/n by the hand, and pulling her inside the barracks. “I was just about to go look for you! Some of the other girls and I were about to use my new tea set.”

She led Y/n to where the group of girls sat around Hannah’s bunk. It was Mina, Mikasa, and Annie. Annie was one of the girls Y/n hadn’t talked to that much. Annie was quiet and very reserved. Y/n was honestly surprised she was joining them. She just assumed Annie was a big tea fan. Y/n took the open spot, next to said girl.

“Great! Now that we are all here, let’s talk about the boys,” Hannah said, mischievously, wiggling her eyebrows at everyone. Oh, good. A trap. At this, Mina grew excited and clapped her hands together, bouncing up and down in her spot. Mikasa reached out to pour a cup of tea for Y/n. Handing it to Y/n, Y/n took it graciously, thanking her.

“That sounds like fun! But you know Hannah, we have to start with Franz,” Mina started, smirking. Hannah blushed, immediately going quiet. “You two are so cute together!”

Hannah hid her face behind her hand, the other waving frantically at Mina. “Stop! I’m so embarrassed!” She squealed, playfully pushing Mina.

Y/n started to feel a bit out of place. Living with a bunch of traumatized soldiers, you don’t have such giggly moments with friends. She would joke around with the rest of her brother’s squad, but it was never like this.

Looking at either side of her, she noticed Mikasa and Annie, both with expressions of disinterest. Y/n felt a sense of relief, realizing she may not be the only one that feels this way. Before she could deviate a plan to escape, Y/n was brought into the conversation.

“Why talk about me and Franz when we could talk about the new couple in town? I hear Y/n and Marco always sneak off somewhere together!” Hannah teased. Y/n froze. Where did she hear that from? Mina gasped as everyone’s eyes landed on Y/n. Y/n heated up, taking a gulp of her tea. She hoped the tea would sooth her sudden dry mouth that developed from her nerves.

“Tell us, Y/n! What’s up with you and Marco? And where have you two been sneaking away to?” Mina interrogated, leaning forward in interest.

“We are just friends… W-We hang out a lot because he’s nice company and we just go for walks and stuff.” Y/n answered, quickly. She hoped they would just leave it at that and move on. Clearly, her “acting” was not good enough for the two insatiable girls because they surely did not leave the conversation at that.

“You are such a liar! Friends do not treat each other the way you two do. Trust me, Y/n, and I promise I am not making fun. I acted the same way with Franz before I realized that life is too short to just keep denying feelings that will not go away. And I tried. I was scared that he didn’t feel the way I did, but now I’m so happy that I took that chance.” Hannah said, reaching out to rest a hand on Y/n’s knee. Y/n pondered on what Hannah said for a moment before quickly shaking her head.

“Even if I did have feelings for Marco… We are going into two different regiments.” Y/n retorted. This was Y/n’s big defense for something that truly has a deeper explanation.

“Listen to me, Y/n. You have two years to love someone and be happy. When the time comes that you have to leave each other, that doesn’t have to mean it’s over. Even if it’s not every day, you could still see each other. And if you didn’t, at least you could say you had fun. I think it would be worth it, don’t you? If you spend your whole life focused on your future, then you’ll miss such beautiful opportunities like this one.” At Hannah’s words, Y/n felt herself grow a little conflicted. Most girls dream of falling in love and, up till now, Y/n did not care about any of that. She had goals of her own. But now, she doesn’t know what to feel because in a way, Hannah was right.

“But, what if I fall in love? A-And he doesn’t feel the same? Or, he leaves and I get hurt?” Y/n asked, feeling herself starting to get choked up, “I’ve never felt this way before. It’s scary because I know what it’s like to lose the people I love…”

The girls grew quiet. And, for a moment, Y/n regretted even saying anything. Until Mikasa piped in.

“Y/n… I understand how you feel… I have lost people I love too, and it is hard to meet new people for the fear that I will grow attached and lose them. Because of this, I feel so desperate to protect the family I do have left. The world is cruel like that. But, you know what? It’s also beautiful. I truly believe that if you don’t give this a chance, you will regret it way more than you will if it doesn’t work out.” She spoke. The girls all looked at her in shock. This was the most Mikasa had really talked, let alone pour her heart out. Y/n assumed she had been referring to Eren when she spoke about her protectiveness. She was always right by his side.

Y/n took some time to think about everything the girls have said. She still was not too sure. She decided that she would wait until she received on more sign.

“What do you think, Annie? Should Y/n go for it?” Mina asked, bringing Annie out of her silent thoughts.

“If she thinks it would make her happy, then she should.” Annie mumbled, giving Y/n her final sign. Y/n sighed and looked up at all of their hopeful faces.

“Okay… I will tell him how I feel.”

~~~

The boys sat around in their barracks, talking casually as the sun went down on their final day off for the week. Marco, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Bertolt, Eren, and Armin, all sat together in a corner of the sleeping quarters. They were having their own conversation about cadet life so far and things they would like to do before they graduate.

“I mean it would be nice if I could get to her, but it’s practically impossible with Ymir around. I can’t even get a word in.” Reiner groaned, complaining about his failed attempts at trying to talk to Christa. The sweet, blonde girl everyone refers to as a “goddess” for the fact that she spreads infectious kindness to everyone she meets. Ymir was a much taller girl, with tomboy tendencies, that is always attached to Christa at the hip.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need good luck for that one, big guy,” Jean laughed, throwing his arm over his knee. “At least you’re trying. Right, Marco? But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would ya?”

Everyone glanced at Marco with knowing looks. He was easily found out about his feelings for Y/n by the other boys, simply for the fact that he would not shut up about her. If he wasn’t talking about her, he was lost in his own thoughts that consisted of her. During the last year, Marco was quick to figure out how he feels about Y/n. It was obvious with how he always wanted to see her and hang out with her. How he looked at her way differently than the rest. He just knew that it wasn’t an option for him as she only ever showed care for her future. He also hadn’t told the guys about this fear yet, fearing they would tease him, or maybe even tell her for him.

“It’s complicated, Jean. She’s going back to the scouts in two years, and I will be going to the interior.” Marco diverted, pouting at Jean for always bringing this up.

“Exactly! That is two whole years you could spend with her. You could even see her while you’re in the MPs. Mikasa said she’s going to the scouts and that hasn’t stopped me.” Jean remarked, avoiding Eren’s dirty look.

“Marco’s old enough to know what’s good for him, Jean. He’s not doing anything wrong.” Eren hissed.

“All I’m saying is that Marco obviously has feelings for her, but he’s gonna miss his chance if he keeps making excuses for his fear.” Jean defended, furrowing his brows to match Eren’s glare.

“Let’s not fight, guys! It’s really not a big deal! I just don’t want to give Y/n any stress, that’s all!” Marco pleaded, trying to disperse the growing tension.

“’I just don’t wanna give Y/n any stress, that’s all!’” Connie mocked, rolling his eyes, “Marco, you obviously like her a lot. Go for it, man. There’s no way she’ll say no. Hey, even if she did, she’d do it in the nicest way possible so it won’t hurt as bad.”

Marco deadpanned. “Gee thanks, Connie! That makes me feel so much better!” He said, sarcastically. Connie shrugged, leaning back on one of the bed posts.

“Ignoring the terrible execution of Connie, Jean, and Eren’s support, I think you should tell Y/n how you feel,” Armin cut in. “If you don’t, then you might continue to hide it for so long that it could affect your guys’ relationship negatively without you even having given yourself a chance. Wouldn’t you rather take a chance then feel sad, knowing you never tried?”

Marco looked down, knowing Armin was right. “What do you guys think?” Marco asked, motioning towards Reiner and Bertolt.

“I agree with Armin, personally. But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, either.” Bertolt admitted, shrugging. Reiner nodded, “I think you should, if you care about her so much. And you obviously do.”

“Alright then, I’ll give it a try.”

A/N: We’re on a roll now… Here’s Chapter 3!

All rights reserved. Please do not repost or steal my writing. Re-blogs are welcome!

[levithestripper]

how the members of the survey corp and marley warriors would train with you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader

included characters: eren yeager, armin arlert, mikasa ackerman, jean kirstein, marco bodt, connie springer, sasha braus, reiner braun, bertolt hoover, annie leonhart, porco galliard, levi ackerman, erwin smith, and mike zacharias.

length: 1.5k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: hi y'all. i never thought i'd be writing for attack on titan again, but here we are lmao. i've been rewatching the series from the beginning, and this is the result of that. anyways, some are more 'x reader' than others, but i hope y'all enjoy it!

— Eren Yeager

When you ask Eren to help you train, this boy gets so smug you can practically see his ego grow three sizes larger. You know you’re probably better off asking someone else who’s better, but you know Eren appreciates it when you go to him. He likes to show off and impress you, so you get more of a show than actual training assistance. Still, you appreciate the effort Eren puts into trying to help you out. Eren falls on his ass more than he likes to admit, making you hide your laughter behind your hand. 

— Armin Arlert

Asking Armin to train with you surprises Armin more than anything. Him? You want to train with him?! He immediately rejects your offer, saying he can’t possibly help you with anything that isn’t tutoring. However, you insist upon it, assuring him that you want his help and prefer it over others. The training you guys do isn’t intense; instead, it focuses on the areas you said you needed to improve. Armin always pulls his punches, never wanting to seriously harm you. But if you insist upon it, he will come at you in full force, just not very happily. Afterward, Armin apologizes profusely for possibly hurting you, and you reassure him you’re fine. Expect a flurry of hugs from him and a part of his supper rations, but he denies knowing anything about where your extra food came from. 

— Mikasa Ackerman

Mikasa isn’t keen on helping you, viewing you as something that will only slow her down from achieving her goal of being as strong as she can be to protect Eren. It takes you a few minutes to convince her that you won’t get in the way or be a burden, simply wanting to shadow her, spar with her, and pick up any techniques that make her such a good fighter for yourself. Realizing you didn’t want her to teach you, Mikasa accepts your request, warning you that she doesn’t go easy or pull her punches. It’s safe to say that you hurt all over come supper time, wincing from the hard wooden benches in the mess hall. 

— Jean Kirstein

Similar to Eren, Jean is cocky as hell when you come to him for training help. He doesn’t stop until you threaten to ask Eren instead, which makes him shut up and behave. Jean’s a decent spar partner, so you’re in good hands with him. You’re decently matched against him, winning about half of the rounds and losing the other half by only a second or two. He’s better at the knife-disarming move than you are, though, which he teases you for.

— Marco Bodt

Marco is flattered that you picked him out of everyone else. Being the definition of an average fighter, Marco didn’t think there was anything he could help you with, but he’s ecstatic to spar with you regardless. After all, it’s time Marco gets to spend with you. And if you think he’ll go easy on you because you’re his partner, you’re sorely mistaken. Marco loves you and wants you to be as prepared for the world as possible, seeing no benefit in pulling punches. But that’s not to say he’ll beat you up, obviously. After all, this is only an exercise, so you’re relatively unharmed, ignoring the scattered bruising. 

— Connie Springer

Connie is more than eager to train with you, joking around and laughing the entire time. He knows he should take it more seriously, but Connie can’t help having fun with you instead, completely ignoring the current exercise. He’ll hide behind you and tap your shoulder, waiting for you to turn around before ducking just out of your view. When you finally catch him, you’re dizzy and out of breath from laughing so hard. Your efforts are rewarded with a peppering of kisses all over your face <3

— Sasha Braus

Like Connie, Sasha is just as obnoxious during training but takes it a bit more seriously than he does. If you are serious about training, she’ll do her best to take it seriously with you. She’s not immune to Connie making faces at her from across the field, and frankly—you aren’t either. Typically, if you’re sparing with Sasha, you’ll end up with Connie, too. 

— Reiner Braun

Training with Reiner is like training with your long-lost twin. You read one other perfectly, evading and blocking each other’s swings like it’s nothing. You duck underneath his outstretched arm to kick him in the back of his knee, but Reiner is two steps ahead, spinning on his heel to knock your feet out from under you. He expects you to yield, but you don’t give up that easily. Sneaking between his spread legs to pop up from behind, it was your turn to knock him unsteady, twisting his arm behind his back and disarming him of the prop knife he wielded. It goes on like that until the quittin’ bell rings, except the roles reversed themselves every few rounds. 

— Bertolt Hoover

Bertolt is still such a sweetheart, even when he’s trying to pin you to the ground. He wants to win, but that doesn’t make his timidness disappear. You win more often than not, but you let him get the better of you sometimes. Watching a blush spread across his face and neck is worth letting him win. His blush worsens when you point it out, too. Still, he likes sparing with you, regardless of how well he does or not. 

— Annie Leonheart

Training with Annie is very similar to training with Mikasa. It’s not that Annie believes you’ll hinder her progress; it’s because she’s simply not good with people. Annie knows you can hold your own against tough opponents; she’s seen you go against people like Reiner and Eren and win. The best way to put it is that she feels awkward, not knowing how to help you or what she should say. You’re the only one able to render Annie speechless, a talent that immediately raises you above the rest in her eyes. 

— Porco Galliard

If you want to spar with Porco, you better be prepared to have your ass beat into next week. He’s out to prove he’s the best, and not even you can get in his way. He’s stubborn and afflicted with tunnel vision, blinding him from remembering how talented you are at it, too. Porco’s favorite move is pinning you on your stomach, twisting your wrist until you forfeit your prop weapon of choice. He’s stupidly cocky about it, too, straddling your hips and spouting snark while your face is shoved in the dirt. You may be talented at that day’s exercise, but somehow, Porco always has the upper hand, no doubt due to his Shifter abilities giving him heightened agility and reflexes. He’s always stupidly proud of himself afterward, bragging to his friends about how many times he’d pinned you. It earns him a sharp flick on his forehead from you.

— Levi Ackerman

You must be a glutton for punishment if you seek out Levi as a sparing partner. His version of training isn’t just sparring, oh no, no. First, he has you running laps around the courtyard for at least thirty minutes. And if he catches you jogging, he adds another ten minutes. You wanted the best, so you’ll have to endure everything he throws at you to get it. Next is calisthenics. Push-ups, thirty-second planks, burpees, sit-ups, dips, and wall sits are the bane of your existence for the next hour and a half. By now, your entire body aches, and your legs are shaky and exhausted. Levi gives you a break, allowing you to drink nearly your weight in water and grab a quick snack before his torture resumes. He gives you enough time to ensure you don’t vomit, but finally, it’s time for sparring once you’ve finished your snack break. Once he deems training to be done for the day, you ask him why he put you through such an intense workout just to spar. Levi’s reasoning? If your body was tired, you’d fight better. If you’re exhausted, you’ll seek out more ways to end the fight quicker and discover new techniques as you go. If you get frustrated enough after losing to him so many times, combined with your body’s exhaustion, you’d eventually find a hole in Levi’s attack and utilize it. 

— Erwin Smith

Training with Erwin isn’t much different than training on your own. He acts professionally throughout the exercise, seeing it as nothing to take lightly. Erwin doesn’t go easy on you, but he does pull his punches, not eager to send you to the infirmary just because of sparring practice.

— Mike Zacharias

Believe it or not, Mike is like a combination of Levi and Connie. Training with him will last hours, but he’s having fun with you while he does it. Mike is quick on his feet, darting this way and that, always out of reach. It’s almost like a dance you’re engaged in. Every time you miss, he’ll pop a teasing joke as if he’s goading you into catching him. When you think you’ve cornered him, Mike’ll knock your legs out from underneath you, claiming the win for himself. He’ll help you back up and reset the round, giving the prop weapon to you this time.

taglist: @myglitteringstardust, @alicchis-badonkadonks (sorry if this isn't you, it's the only blog that popped up when i typed in the user from my taglist form), @nxuvillette, @killeva, @aestosia, @aangzeo, and @fantasy-and-love.

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 6

last || m.list || next

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.5k

chapter warnings: sex talk, smooching, swimming, dick insecurity

a/n: attempting to post this on my iPad was a mistake but I just couldn’t wait.

♪ washing machine heart by mitski

➷➷➷➷➷

You feel like you have a secret. The feeling of Marco’s lips burns on your own, so vibrant you wonder if people can see it on your face. If that’s not obvious, Marco holds your hand all the way back to the cabin that night. You part at the door with one last kiss, his palm resting warmly on the side of your neck. You don’t know if anyone sees. You don’t know if you care.

When you step inside the cabin, bodies scramble away from the window in a ruckus. Hitch dives for her bunk while Ymir and Historia flop onto the floor, as if they had already been lying there. Mikasa doesn’t move; she’s writing in a journal on the other side of the room.

Your face heats, but you try not to let it show. “Lurkers.”

Ymir and Historia explode into a fit of giggles while Hitch flings herself at you, squealing. “You did it!”

You’re quick to shush them. Even if it’s not a secret, you don’t want to embarrass Marco if the boys hear everyone screaming about him through the wall.

Hitch takes your cheeks in her hands, practically touching her nose to yours as she stares into your eyes. “Tell me everything.”

You’re somewhere between giddy and embarrassed, still trying to wrap your brain around it. “We just kissed, that’s all.”

Hitch claps her hands. “Details, details! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “Yeah.” You can’t even lie.

Historia squeals and slaps Ymir eagerly on the arm.

“Ok, ok, ok, chill. I’m excited too but oh my god,” you shush again.

“You are IN, baby!” says Hitch.

“We’ll see.”

“You WILL deflower him, or so help me god–”

“YMIR!”

But you hope she’s right. You really hope she’s right.

In an effort to keep your cool, you start digging around in your suitcase for pajamas. “So Hitch. Any updates on Erwin?”

She pouts. “No. I’m not getting anywhere with him.”

Mikasa shuts her journal. “Oh, Erwin? He’s dating Levi.”

Everyone freezes, staring at her. “...What?”

“Who the fuck is Levi?” Ymir demands.

“Levi,” Mikasa says, like it’s obvious. “The groundskeeper. The short one.”

He must be the one who found Zofia’s sunglasses. “I had no idea who he was.”

“Kenny is my dad’s cousin. Levi is his nephew,” she explains. “But yes. He’s also Erwin’s boyfriend. Don’t tell anyone about it though, Levi is super private.”

“He just appears out of nowhere sometimes. I was starting to think he was a ghost or something,” says Historia.

Hitch hops happily into her bunk. “Well. Good for them. And good to know I’m not losing my touch.”

-

Even though you really want to, you don’t kiss Marco again in the morning. You settle for a lingering brush of your hands when he brings you another cup of coffee at breakfast. There’s so much warmth in the way he looks at you, but something’s off. He’s jittery, more nervous than the night before.

Keeping your voice low, you lean over and ask, close to his ear, “You want to talk later?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, that would be good.”

You don’t want to scare him, and you’re not trying to rush, but, “Are you ok?”

Under the table, his hand skims your thigh before pulling back. “Yes. I just… Yeah. We should talk.”

“Ok. Meet me during free time?”

“For sure.”

You don’t think Marco would lie to you. Even though you do your best to take him at face value, you can’t help but worry something’s wrong. When you part for group activities, he brushes a few strands of hair from the back of your neck lightly with his fingertips, like he wants to touch you but he’s afraid. It’s reassuring, but a knot settles in your stomach as you lead your campers to music class.

In the lodge, where Nifa teaches her sessions, she carries around a box of small instruments and noisemakers: maracas, kazoos, sandpaper blocks to rub and clap together. No matter how many times you tell 20 kids to wait until they’re told to play, the temptation is too great. They can’t manage to be quiet while she gives directions.

Jean retrieves his acoustic guitar from the cabin to play along, and you tap on a mini tambourine while Nifa teaches some basic rhythms to fit the songs the kids already know. When the campers reach the limit of their ability to pay attention, Jean offers to take some song requests so everyone can have a little break.

The kids ask for a little bit of everything, from Queen to Post Malone. Zofia requests “the washing machine song” by Mitski, which she claims she heard about from her big sister. You help Jean lead a couple songs before handing the reins back over to Nifa.

To give your ears a rest, the two of you settle onto one of the couches in the corner. Jean strums absentmindedly on his guitar while you fold your legs under you and lean back against the arm of the couch. “Play Wonderwall,” you tease after a short pause.

He snorts but plucks the chord progression quietly anyway, maybe just to prove that (of course) he can. “You doin’ ok today?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“You’re wringing your hands a lot,” he shrugs. “Usually a sign that something’s bothering you. Just thought I’d ask.”

“How much do you know?”

Jean doesn’t look up from his guitar. “All of it, I think.”

If Marco told anyone what happened, you suspected it would have been Jean. “I’m fine, but it doesn’t seem like he is. Do you know if there’s anything I did–”

“He is absolutely crazy about you, first of all.” Jean doesn’t hesitate, his hands still moving over the guitar strings. “He’s nervous about being able to… please you. Since he doesn’t have much experience.”

“Please me?”

Jean lowers his voice to a mumble. “He’s scared he’s going to be bad at sex.”

“Oh my god. Did he ask you for tips?” You can’t help but tease. It’s an impulse.

Jean shushes you. “It was more like, he knows that you and I used to… so he came to me all freaked out that I was going to be mad if you two got together.”

“And you told him…?”

“That we’re just friends, obviously. And that he doesn’t need my blessing, or whatever.” Jean sighs. “I tried to tell him not to worry, but he won’t relax until he hears it from you.”

“I mean, of course I’m gonna tell him the same thing. Even if he doesn’t want to–”

Jean cuts you off again. “Oh, he wants to.”

Your heart rushes. The anticipation may actually kill you. “Thank you for talking to him. I hope it hasn’t been too awkward.”

Jean rolls his eyes, overdramatic. “How could I not be happy about two of my best friends dating each other.” It’s not a question. “Meanwhile, I’m just a perpetual third wheel.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Come on, it’s not like that.”

He mutes the guitar with his palm. “Last night, I caught Eren and Mikasa fucking in a canoe.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, muffling the strangled, dying animal sound that escapes anyway. “I knew it,” you whisper-scream. “I KNEW it!”

Jean stares at you, deadpan.

You tilt your head, pitying. “I’m sorry. I know you were really hoping–”

“It’s fine. She’s not into me. I’ll get over it. I accept that I’m having a celibate summer.”

“Maybe Pock and Reiner would let you–”

“What, watch?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“I’d rather third wheel Jaeger than witness Reiner finding himself, thanks.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Jean chokes on a laugh. “You’re right, what am I saying?”

-

The afternoon sun is sweltering, the air humid and sticky after a brief rain shower during lunch. It’s too hot to sit in the cabin, even with the fans on, but the air conditioning of the mess hall is far too public for the conversation you’re about to have. Instead, you and Marco claim a porch swing on the upper deck of the lodge, nestled in the far corner where nobody can sneak up on you.

Marco’s long legs reach the floor, and he uses them to rock the swing slowly back and forth. He reaches over for your hand, wrapping his own around it in your lap. You stroke the back of his knuckles while you talk, marveling at how comfortable it is to touch him. It’s like you’ve known him forever, even though it’s only been a couple weeks.

While you could just sit there with him for hours, you know you only have so much time. “I want to be abundantly clear,” you begin. “I really like you. I have for a while.”

Marco exhales. “Doesn’t it bother you that I’ve never dated anyone before? Or that I’ve never slept with anyone?”

“Not at all. I like every part of you, Marco.” You give his hand a squeeze, feeling a little bashful, but you know this is a conversation you need to have. “In fact, I kind of think it’s sort of hot.”

Marco laughs before he can stop himself. He turns to you, face reddening. “You’re serious?”

You nudge his side with your shoulder. “Yes. I mean, I would still like you even if that weren’t the case. But yeah. You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re hot.”

“Nobody has ever called me hot before.”

“Now that’s hard to believe. And I’ve thought about it a lot. And… things I want to do with you.”

“No way it’s as much as I’ve thought about you.” He plays with your hands, rubbing your thumb with his own.

You cuddle a little closer, your hip touching his. “But hey. I think it would be good for us to talk about it a little first.” Something occurs to you for the first time. “Was last night your first kiss?”

“No,” Marco chuckles. “There were a few girls in high school, not girlfriends, but I don’t know. Crushes, I guess. I made out with my senior prom date.” Marco glances over your head before he continues.

“She asked me to touch her boobs, so I did. But I basically stopped her when she started trying to unzip my pants. We were at an after-party, behind someone’s barn, and I was scared of getting caught.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” you agree. “Is that the farthest you’ve gone?”

Marco clears his throat. “There was this girl freshman year, Rico. We’d taken a lot of AP classes together, but then she went to a different college. She got in touch when she was in town visiting once, so we went out for dinner and then back to my dorm. We kissed a lot, and she got naked in my bed, but uh.”

You try to help. “But you didn’t go all the way?”

“Yeah.” He goes quiet, gently rocking the swing back and forth with his heels.

“Did something happen?”

He clears his throat again. “It’s embarrassing.”

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I won’t make you tell me, but if there’s something I can do to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen with us—”

“My dick scared her away.”

“You... What?”

Marco sighs. “I got hard, and she got me out of my pants, but when she saw my dick, she changed her mind.”

Your brain short circuits. What could possibly—

“Not anything like… She said it was too big. And I know how that sounds, but I felt like a freak. She just got dressed and left. I don’t blame her or anything. But yeah.”

You squeeze his hand. “That must have been really tough, I’m sorry. But you know, also, some people don’t mind that. Plenty of people like it, actually.”

“So I’ve been led to believe,” Marco chuckles awkwardly. “But the evidence to the contrary… it was hard for me to get over for a long time.”

“I get it. We all have our things. But thank you for telling me. For the record,” you click your tongue. “I am very much ok with that.”

Marco’s cheeks turn an even warmer shade of red.

“Would it make you feel better to know how many guys I’ve been with?”

“Yes,” Marco answers immediately. So he’s definitely been preoccupied.

“Four.” It doesn’t bother you to tell him. And it’s only fair, considering how open he was with you too. 

“The first was this guy, Eld, that I met at a frat party the first week of my freshman year. I was very much exploring all my newfound freedom then. We hooked up a couple times, but it just kind of fizzled out after that.”

“Then there was this guy I worked with at the library. We dated for a while, but the breakup was bad.��� You can chuckle about it now, looking back, but, “I had to transfer my work-study to the admissions department to get away from him.”

“Sorry. You’re ok?” Marco asks.

“Yep, it’s fine. Haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“That’s good,” Marco agrees. “And you and Jean?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, last summer. But you know we’re just friends now, right?”

Marco sweeps his thumb back and forth across your hand. “Yeah.”

Before he can get too in his head about it, you continue. “And I’ve never told anyone this. But the fourth guy was Moblit.”

Marco’s jaw drops before he can catch it. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Don’t tell, especially not Hitch, or else everyone will know within minutes,” you laugh. “He doesn’t want people bugging him about it, and I can’t blame him. But yeah, we used to hook up in the chapel.” Secluded in the woods, the chapel is off one of the hiking trails and apparently used by some church camps here during the year. Somehow, nobody ever found out, but you want Marco to know everything.

You tell him how despite his general demeanor, you’d made quick friends with Moblit last summer, and inevitably, the two of you became closer and closer until the tension burst. You could match his sarcasm, and he started giving you rides in the staff golf cart whenever you crossed paths. Those turned into little joyrides late at night, when the campers were asleep and you weaseled out of card games or ghost stories with your friends.

The night you ended up at the chapel, you sat together for hours by torchlight just talking. Things got a little deep—he was hung up on Hange, who was either too oblivious to notice or knew everything and just wanted to make him squirm. Meanwhile, you were becoming aware that Jean was much more in love with you than you were with him. After baring your hearts to one another, it was easy to let him pull you into his lap and get some frustration out of your systems.

Moblit made it very clear: you were just friends with some very satisfying physical benefits, and you were fine with that. There was perhaps a second in time where you thought it was a shame—he was the best you’d ever had, every time—but it was also clear that the two of you weren’t truly compatible. You couldn’t date him; you liked picking on him too much.

For a few seconds, Marco is quiet. Just as you start to worry, a smirk pulls at his lips. “Ok, now that’s pretty hot. And impressively mature. But the secret is safe with me.”

“Good, it better be. Or else Mobs would kill me and you’d never find my body.”

“Understood. Speaking of, I saw Hitch heading down the trail with Zeke today. Do you think—?”

“Yes. I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” Erwin is taken, and she’s found her next mark.

Marco’s brows arch. “You don’t say?”

You give him a nudge. “Ok, Gossip Girl. I thought we were here to talk about us.”

“You’re right, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You curl your hand into his shirt, wanting to be as close to him as you practically can be. Though you feel you’ve pretty much covered everything, you still have to ask, “So if you’re feeling a little better, and you want to find some time together, I also want… that. You.”

Marco inhales so hard, he coughs. “Um. Yeah. I do. But I know we should be kind of strategic about where and when. And I’m not going to lie, I’m really nervous. I might need you to… teach me.”

Your stomach flutters. “I don’t think you understand how hot that is,” you whisper.

“I really don’t. But I guess if it’s working…” Marco lets go of your hand to rub the back of his neck.

You press a kiss to his burning cheek. “Maybe tomorrow. Just give me a little time to arrange some stuff.” You have an idea, and someone claiming to be your wingwoman who better be ready to make good on her word.

Some kids race by on the lower deck, their feet pounding the old wooden boards. Gabi chases Falco out to the tetherball court, shouting after him about how she’s going to win every match.

You clear your throat. “One more thing. You did buy the condoms, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, good,” you sigh. “I really didn’t want to go ask Bert for some.”

Marco sputters a laugh. “I think that would honestly be worse for him that it would be for you.”

You double over into Marco’s lap, both of you giggling, happy, clinging to each other, not wanting to let go.

-

There‘s a nearly full moon hanging in the sky, and the air is balmy and warm, even for after sunset. On top of that, the Galliards have been talked into sticking around for the night. Everything quickly falls into place for a night swim—the first of the season.

After the evening campfire, all the campers are sent to bed, and the rest of you rush back to your cabins to change. Towels in hand, you all tromp down to the lake to splash under the stars.

Marcel leads the way. “Listen, I know you’re not kids, but don’t go in far enough that the water is over your heads. There’s not enough light down here, and you have to be careful.”

Ymir gives a salute. “Got it, dad.”

“Could you not?”

And they’re bickering again.

As you near the shore, you just barely notice some silhouettes in the water. Two people, you think, too big to be campers, one particularly tall. Miche and Zeke are with you, which leaves—

You gasp and grab Hitch by the wrist. “Look.” She slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking.

Against his word, Erwin is in the lake up to his waist, where Levi is wrapped around him, arms thrown over his shoulders as they wade together. 

Miche whistles, and they snap apart, both darting for shore on the far side of the dock.

You smack his arm with the back of your hand. “Why are you the way that you are?” 

He blows air through his lips. “Psh. They’re fine. And trust me, they’re not good at keeping their own secret anyway. Just the other day I went out to the shed for a broom, and they were—“

“Spare me,” Zeke says before letting his palm fall to the small of Hitch’s back.

Miche gives him a glare that makes you wonder why it’s warranted.

As soon as your toes dip into the lake, you can understand what drew Levi and Erwin here for some alone time. The water seems to sparkle, the way it reflects the stars out here, the sky ironically bright in the relative darkness of the mountainside. Even with chatter and splashing all around you, it’s easy to feel alone but peaceful.

A light wind blows ripples across the water, but mostly, it’s all still. You glance behind you—Mikasa sits with Eren at the shoreline, only their legs in the water. Zeke carries Hitch on his back, her feet kicking in delight. Reiner and Porco see who can hold a handstand the longest before playing with each other’s hands while Ymir and Historia assume basically the same position Erwin and Levi had been in.

Now that you think about it, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Marco was never more than a breath away. You’ve walked out about as far as you could go with your neck still above water, while he’s only chest deep. He bends a bit at the knees, reaching for you. You paste yourself to his side, wrapping your legs around the notch in his hip where you fit perfectly. Subtly, he brushes a kiss behind your ear. Once again, if anyone is watching, you don’t really care.

Your body aches for him, but you’ll have to wait just a little longer. For tonight, though, this is enough. In fact, it’s perfect.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list || next

[firefly--bright]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ introducing ; apartment 201 !

⁀➷ jean boy!

has vinyls stacked up against a wall.

proud plant dad (after many failed attempts at it)

went to one (1) tame Impala concert and made it his entire personality for two whole years.

an "old soul" is what he likes to call himself, but in all reality he likes to grumble alot. regardless, after his friends make their way into his heart, there's no getting out. he's not the best at uttering his words out loud in a way that makes sense, but his love is ever-present. its everywhere until you're covered with it, littered in the ground and in the laundry that he complains about, in the takeout he buys, in the little lamp he keeps on so that Connie doesn't hurt himself when he reaches home late.

⁀➷ constance springer!

has a meme account on Instagram that he takes way too seriously

"I'm a...niche mirco celebrity.. influencer. i want free nachos in this fine establishment."

second year set and film design major in University of Paradis

chronically online but not in a creepy way, he swears

almost failed 8th grade because he "forgot" about the exams

self-proclaimed aux guy in every road trip. despite all his jokes, it's easy to love him. he's light of the party, and even if he's not the smartest academically, he's smart emotionally and offers surprisingly good advice, and will always be determined to put a smile on everyone's faces despite any adversity.

⁀➷ sasha braus!

won a hot dog eating competition in 7th grade against grown adults. the trophy rests in her closet at all times.

if Connie is the life of the party, she's the encore.

hoards twice posters and photocards. she made Connie, marco and jean listen to it and now they're hooked onto it too, although not as much as her

doesn't know how to spell, barely uses any punctuations ever

once she starts talking, it's really hard for her to stop. but even during her rants, youd find her making a note of anything and everything. nothing can escape her watchful eye, and she'd offer you a helping hand even if her own hand was chopped off. lives and breathes in the kitchen and believes that the kitchen is the heart of the home. her love is radiant and within your grasp at all times, not leaving, always patient.

⁀➷ marco bodt!

has a dog (golden retriever) named polo. if it wasn't obvious.

has always loved and been surrounded by animals. doesn't like crowds but he loves hustle bustle because it feels like home to him

coffee addict

dad friend. always has bandaids, aspirin, and gum in his pocket.

his glasses are always smudged with fingerprints, jean has to remind him to clean them

very intuitive. knows other people's emotions and behaviours probably more than he knows his own. loves his friends in the deepest and purest form, his comfort lies in spending a night in with them. his love is like when your favourite song comes on in an unexpected setting - you didn't know you needed it but it would put a smile on your face nonetheless.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ previous episode! (introducing; the homeless) ➷ next episode ; pilot!

⁀➷ fic playlist ➷ fic visuals

⁀➷ series masterlist ➷ main masterlist ➷ enter my taglist!

⁀➷ taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @cherrypieyourface , @jeanscremebrulee

line dividers by @peachesofteal

[savkirschtein]

AOT character & their personal fashion styles

characters : Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus, Marco Bodt

warning: all of these are just purely based off of my personal insight and views of the characters and how i think they’d dress today

🪩🥡🪐🎸🎧

Eren Jaeger: 🎱🌪️🩻⛓️

based off of season 4 Eren

i picture Eren in todays world really rocking with a minimalist street style

he’s all for comfort and breathability in his clothing and his style reflects that

a closet full of loose fitting boxy t-shirts

LOVES the cold months so he can layer his hoodies and leather jackets

while also sporting the slutty tightly fitted black shirt grey sweat pant combo every now and then

maybe even just walking out his apartment with a wife pleaser and baggy jeans on as a fit alone

all paired with sneakers, small silver hoops, and a chain of some sort

Mikasa Ackerman: 🍒💿📷🃏

we all know for a fact that Mikasa can DRESS

she just has an eye for fashion and has a unique style of her own

one that isn’t over the top, in terms of being a spectacle, but just well put together and tailored to HER. a girl you 110% give a second glance

she is a girlie who LOVES wearing any skirt whether it be long, midi, mini or knee length she LOVES them

most of her pieces are pretty free flowing with lots of different silhouettes

absolutely loves a good leather boot, pair of mary janes, or platform loafers

she literally could wear a trash bag and make it look like it’s the next trend

and has a huge collection of baggus

Armin Arlert: 🎧📘🍵☁️

Armin will literally never be free of the soft light academia aesthetic

the cable knit sweaters, soft cardigans, and sweater vests will forever have a hold on him

but what college boy Armin loves more than anything is a good quarter zip or quarter button up

or a nice casual white and blue striped button up

almost all of his clothing is soft and warm materials

definitely withholds the cute boy in the library title

Jean Kirschtein: 🪐👁️‍🗨️⚡️🌉

will live and die on the hill that Jean is a Carthartt guy

his look is a casual-relaxed but clean one

he’s all for clothing that is durable and will last him forever

Jean’s style is honestly super basic but NOT boring

although Jean’s style isn’t one that is made to make it hard to look away from its one that really just compliments him well

loves a good hefty Dickies or Carthartt jacket, basic white t-shirt, or a loose button up over a tank top

while wearing a variety of rings, with small hoops and a chain

his clothes compliment his strongly built and lengthy body well, which is why although they are basic, it isn’t boring

Connie Springer: 🎧💽☄️🩻

Connie is a literal fashionista

he probably is tiktok famous for his fit check videos and adventures at the thrift stores

the street style aesthetic was MADE for Connie

knows how to put pieces that may not look ideal together into a cohesive fit

LOVES JORTS and swears he made them trendy again

and wearing jerseys of teams he has no clue of , but it’s for the fit so who cares

Sasha Braus: 🍰🪩🗽🧸

the DEFINITION of downtown girl or coming of age movie in a city aesthetic

Sasha lives for the nostalgia of 90s pieces and it shows in her clothing

comfort is also a huge factor that plays into Sasha’s outfits

color is another component that makes Sasha’s outfits HER outfits

LOVES a good brown leather jacket

Sasha honestly though has a hard time sticking to just ONE specific style and will wear whatever feels good for her

Marco Bodt: 🍙🪴♠️🍊

Marco is a soft boy at heart but he’s traded in the traditional sweaters vests for hardy collared jackets

he absolutely LOVES PLAID

and loves layering his button ups with his worn out thrifted jackets

has a more warm palette in terms of colors and leans more towards earthy tones

super casual in his shoes though sticking to good tried and true high top converse, sambas, or loafers if he's feeling fancy

[yawujin]

potential spoilers˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ aot boys react to a royal reader

type | no titans, no death/gore , fluff , comfort , light hearted , short read , gender neutral reader

the queen of paradis island, historia reiss, introduces you, the monarch of a neighboring nation, to all of her male friends. . .

armin arlert ♡

he gives a long bow to you, trying to remain calm and collected but in reality, he's eager to learn about the nation you rule over

he listens intently to the in depth explanations and stories you tell him about your country... with you apologizing everytime you feel he is getting bored

"oh, no! please, continue." he encourages with a sweet tone in his voice

he is thoroughly intrigued and, though he wouldn't tell you this, he loves how eloquently you speak

(he is definitely going to practice his speech patterns using you as an example)

bertholdt hoover ♡

when first meeting you, he didn't know whether to refer to you as "highness" or "majesty" so he accidentally blurted "your majness" which you still tease him about from time to time

you usually remind him that he doesn't need to be so formal or nervous when you are near

was pleasantly surprised when he had heard you considered knighting him

'maybe going to war for them wouldn't be so bad..."

connie springer ♡

feels super cool for knowing two monarchs

like armin, he asks a bunch of questions about your country

he would seriously love to visit it someday

he really thinks highly of you and your ability to balance being royalty while still being a down to earth person

eren jäger ♡

kisses your hand out of courtesy which angers jean bc he thought he was about to be the first one to do it lmao

compliments your nation, making sure to mention how much he admires it because it's a FREE country

you gift him a few pictures of landmarks in your country for him and his friends to view

starts missing your company right before the day you have to go back home

jean kirschtein ♡

kisses all the way up your arm in an effort to one-up eren he just rolls his eyes he really dgaf

"shall i show you around, your majesty?" jean offers his hand to you

you take him up on his offer and the two of you take a stroll

he listens to you speak, not daring to interrupt you...however...

the more you lament on the struggles of being a monarch, the more he wants to comfort you

"what's your favorite food?" he suddenly asks. you answer, but not without questioning him. "just wondered if i could make it for you." he quickly looks away. "if you want." he murmurs.

marco bodt ♡

also kisses your hand

no matter how close you two get, he will always give you a bow (even if it's a short one)

you like marco because you feel like you can be open with him

you believe this is the same reason marco likes you

the two of you often engage in harmless gossip together and joke around with each other all afternoon

you tell him all the details about your country, making sure to include the cons of living there

doesn't make him steer clear of wanting to visit though!

"i can't wait for you to show me around! " he beams

reiner braun ♡

goes the extra mile and gets down on one knee to bow to you, and kisses your hand.

the most likely to compliment you on how beautiful your various items of clothing are

after hearing what you said about bertholdt, he wished you had considered him as a knight too :(

as time passes, you two build a great rapport, he treats you like he would anyone else while still holding a huge admiration and respect for you.