#bertholdt lives au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ambrosialdesire · 2 months

Note

OMG i would like to request yandere bertolt x paradis reader.you can pick whatever part of the timeline you want, maybe he managed to survive to take her to marly, or maybe she just tried to escape on marly or paradis, or maybe he just kidnapped her I don't really care

Thank you

desiderate

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 bertolt x fem!reader word count: 9.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, some explicit sexual content, s4 bertolt au, implied non-con, violence, kidnapping mention, stalking, forced kissing (kinda dubcon), slight groping, kinda masochistic bertolt, cigarette usage/smoking, blood kink, knife kink, slight voyeurism, male masturbation mention, panty jerking off mention (?), slight body mutilation, scarification implications, all characters are 18+ synopsis: they've brought you here on this foreign land, a land that was once believed to be completely overrun with monsters. you've been living pretty easy with this new life of yours but it's hard to forget about what he's done to your old home. this singular man, capable of complete destruction despite his nervous demeanor. there may be humans here but the true monster still remained, watching your every move until he was ready to strike. a/n: IM NGL IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST BERTOLT LMFAO i made bro a creep cause i feel like between bertie and reiner, bertie definitely has the tendency to be lurking and stalking behind corners and constantly following you and finding to opportunity to snatch your underwear to jerk off into LOL the reference that i used for s4 bertolt is this fanart that was used in a tiktok edit but i have no idea who made the art and it's making me scream bc it's definitely how i imagine what he looks like (but with thicker chin stubble) and i want to give the right creds (if you look up s4 bertolt/bertholdt fanart on google and see a tiktok image of him smoking, that's what i'm talking about but i want to give actual creds to the artist) also mb on the smoking scenes idk how it feels to smoke but i do sorta know the distinct smell of it this is also in no way connected to the cacoëthes series just to let yall know hehe i hope you enjoy this anon! thank sm for your request!! and sorry for the wait LOL note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

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"Call off your damn hound Reiner, I'm getting sick of his shit."

Pushing past the blond as you entered his home, you made your way to his dining table. You huffed as you sat down, leaning back against the chair as your boot-covered legs kicked up on the wooden table. Reiner rolled his eyes, pushing them back down to the ground with a heavy thud. He crossed his arms, leaning on the wall adjacent from where you sat.

"A hello first would suffice. What's Bertolt getting himself into again?"

"My business!" Exasperated, you threw your hands over your face. "He keeps fucking following me and it's starting to freak me out. You guys know I'm not suspicious anymore, there's no way for me to be able to contact Paradis Island at all."

Saying your old home's name had started to feel foreign on your tongue unfortunately. It's been over four years since you've been whisked away by these two assholes and living here has been nothing but a thorn on your side. You worked under the Warrior Unit, mostly a simple soldier for both Bertolt and Reiner to boss around for basic things. It's nothing different from your time as a scout but it's frustrating working for them instead of with them.

You don't know why they took you away with them instead of breaking out their other accomplice, Annie, but after a handful of screaming, punching, kicking, and biting from you, they managed to drag you off to the boat. You stayed there for an estimated week or so with random strangers coming and going, poking and prodding at you as if you were one of Hange's experiments on Eren and randomly caught Titans.

The two of them finally came back one random night unconscious, battered and beaten to the point where their Titan healing powers couldn't even help them fast enough. You needed them alive — how else were you going to manage escaping this unknown place of theirs — so you helped tend to their wounds, staying at their sides until they were finally awake.

Once they were conscious enough, you punched Reiner square on the nose, spinning around to smash your knuckles right into Bertolt's cheek. Your hand was throbbing in pain but the burning fury you felt was stronger. By the time they woke up, the boat already was leaving the docks, and now you were most likely already miles away from home.

"You fucking assholes."

Blood was dripping down his nose, while a cut just barely formed on the bruised skin of the other. It was in vain however. Steam was steadily coming out of the two of them, meaning that the healing was back in working condition.

"FUCK! I didn't even say anything yet!" Reiner scowled as he placed his hands around his nose, snapping it back in place with a nauseating crack.

Bertolt laid there quietly however, lanky fingers brushing against the welt on his face but he was unable to meet your stare. Tears started streaming down your face, your body crumpling to the floor. You were completely hurt, you trusted these two like they were family, especially Bertolt. Was he really who you thought he was? How could they do this to you? To everyone back in Paradis?

"Why? Why me?"

The two of them fell even more silent, Reiner looking up at the ceiling while Bertolt closed his eyes shut as if he was the one that was currently going through it.

"Well say something goddamnit! Why am I here?" You were beyond angry, voice crackling from how loud you were screaming at them. "Tell me!"

Bertolt finally opened his eyes, pale green staring into yours. You couldn't see him. There was only the Colossal Titan looking down at you as if you were nothing but an insignificant speck on the wall. He opened his mouth, uttering remorselessly one phrase that made you even more resentful of their entire beings.

"I'm sorry."

Now you were here after long months of being processed and interviewed over and over by many Marleyan higher-ups, eventually and finally gaining their trust. You knew they still didn't like you but who really gives a shit, they left you alive and that's all you could be grateful for.

Since you directly worked underneath the two Titan shifters, they were able to get you housing and some basic supplies for you to be able to function properly in their society, as well as a good amount of pocket money to buy whatever you needed. You didn't go out of the house for a month though, still horribly and rightfully angry at them. You were also afraid of the idea that you'd get mobbed immediately once you stepped out and killed on sight by the locals.

Bertolt was the one that finally knocked on your door, tired and baggy eyes focused on the peephole. Part of you wanted to keep the door closed and ignore his presence, but he might report you or something stupidly petty. When you opened it up, the faint waft of bitter tobacco invaded your senses, nose wrinkling at the unfamiliar smell.

As you looked up at him, he felt and looked even more like a stranger than a past friend. It's only been a month but it looked like he had gotten broader at the shoulders and taller. He was wearing a beige uniform, a white undershirt and black tie peeking out of the chest of the long, belted trench coat. His black hair was partially pushed back with gel, slightly being more grown out from the last time you saw him. The way he held himself now in Marley was completely different from Paradis, an eerie calmness surrounding his person. He used to hunch into himself when he was a trainee and a soldier, but now his back was rigid and straight, arms hidden neatly behind his back. The posture reminded you of the utmost dedicated soldiers in the Scout Regiment.

"You haven't been going to work." He softly spoke, his head slightly tilting to the side.

"So?"

"Failure to comply means termination. Termination means you'll get kicked out of Marley. Getting kicked out of Marley means death." Alright, straight to the point. Even the way he was speaking sounded different, as if he had suddenly gained a newfound confidence that was only present here in his homeland.

"You guys really thought I was able to function properly in a new continent where everything is different in a few months? Not to mention, I'm still pissed off at the two of you but fine. I'll come in tomorrow. Goodbye." You proceeded to close the door on him but he stopped it with his boot. Groaning under your breath, you tried pushing at the door so he could back off, but it was to no avail.

His hand grabbed the side of the door and heaved it open with little struggle, letting himself in as you toppled back into the ground from the force.

"You haven't been going out at all. When's the last time you bought groceries?" You flinched, avoiding his judging gaze. How did he know?

"Last month." You muttered as you got up from the ground, brushing yourself off.

Bertolt sighed, glancing off to the side. "Okay. I'll wait here for 15 minutes. Go get dressed and get your money, I'll help you navigate the markets."

You didn't want to but food was definitely running low, and you don't know how long the canned meat in your pantry was going to last in your anger-riddled protest. You made your way upstairs, rummaging through the closet and grabbing the cleanest clothes you were able to find and put on within the time limit he gave. Making your way back down, you found him in the exact same spot, his eyes glancing around the living room.

"Alright. Let's go and we're going to make it quick. I don't think I can stomach standing next to you for this long." You bitterly grumbled, moodily pulling the door open. Bertolt followed after, closing the door for you and taking the lead. What sucked even more was how quickly you had to dash after him, his steps being too large for you to have a steady pace next to him. Maybe him being a near giant compared to a normal person — you noticed as the two of you walked through crowds of people — was thanks to the Titan DNA.

Each passerby gave you a look as you walked on through but never spared a second glance, which was good. You knew that you were an unfamiliar being, a foreigner that was never supposed to be here in the first place. The farmer's market was still open, vegetables and fruits neatly lined up in each stall. He did most of the talking, being able to haggle easier due to his status and the blaring armband that wrapped around his upper arm. You didn't like having to be publicly labeled, it felt like you were merely a product rather than a person.

You were focusing on a stall with jars of honey and jams when some person suddenly shoved you aside with their shoulder, body suddenly losing its balance due to the amount of groceries you were holding on one arm. You prepared for the impact of the cobbled ground but never felt it, instead feeling a firm hand snug in-between your curve of your side and another on your shoulder.

"Careful now." You opened your eyes, meeting his in shock once he steadied you back on your feet. Bertolt's face soon turned to a bright red, his hands quickly leaving you, and his gaze glancing away. Perhaps there really is still some semblance of the man you knew in your homeland.

"Th-thanks..." Adjusting the bag stiffly back up your arms, you proceeded forwards without him, leaving him behind at the stall. It became a usual thing eventually, he'd come over every two weeks to make sure you were fine and the two of you would go out buying your necessities for an hour or two. It didn't erase the fact that you still hated them, but at least he was helping you get comfortable in this strange new world.

You finally started going to work as promised, wearing an awkward and stuffy white uniform that made even the tangling straps of the cadet uniform pale in comparison. According to the paper that came with the uniform, you were to report to Reiner and Bertolt in one of the headquarters' rooms. However, the details were so vague that you were completely lost in the beginning, roaming the hallways without a clue where you were heading.

"Soldier. Face me."

You stiffened, turning around and straightening up. The tall man was vaguely familiar, a full blond beard lining his face and round spectacles hiding his eyes. His right hand raised up as if he was saying hello and you quickly returned the gesture, somewhat remembering that it was their version of a salute.

"Name and ranking?"

"Y/N L/N, er... I'm not sure of my ranking sir. I just know I'm assigned to work for the Vice Captain and one of the Warriors?" You shuffled your feet awkwardly and he nodded, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. He started scratching his ear as he walked, as if he was in thought. To you, he really felt familiar but you couldn't quite place where the feeling belonged.

"Ah yes," His eyes glanced at you, the blue color peeking out from behind the glasses. "Now I remember. You're Reiner and Bertolt's human souvenir from the devil island, aren't you?"

Is that what they called you? And how dare he call your home a devil island! A bubble of anger was rising within you, but you didn't want to take it out on the older man that was helping you find your way. He had to be a higher-up based on his demeanor and you'd rather not get in more trouble.

"...Yes sir, I am."

"You were supposed to be here a month ago." You cringed internally but nodded slowly.

"It's my fault sir. I've only been here for a few months and everything is too... new. I hope my absence didn't affect anything." The man simply hummed, stopping at a door with the words 'WARRIORS UNIT' neatly carved into the wood. You pulled the door for him, letting him saunter in before you entered.

"I found your little pet, you two." His hand pressed against the small of your back, pushing you forwards towards a table where the two of them sat. They looked completely exhausted and were partially bandaged up, quietly sparing a glance at you with a short wave.

You settled yourself in-between them, about to thank the man for helping you but he was already stepping away, going outside to light up a cigarette.

"Don't mind Zeke, he's just... eccentric like that. Hope he didn't offend you." Reiner pushed a pile of papers towards you to sort once you turned back to them, saying something about piling them from who sent them; the important files being from the commander and the Marleyan superiors and the unimportant files being from other soldiers. It slowly dawned on you that you became some sort of assistant to them, a glorified secretary for their war schemes.

"It's nothing too difficult, you're lucky to get this kind of work compared to us and the other Eldian soldiers." Bertolt slightly smiled, continuing to read a paper in his hands and you sighed quietly, beginning to sort. Part of you was grateful you didn't have to face war anymore, but the other part didn't want to be treated differently. Maybe the Marleyans thought that you'd defect once you were on the field or kill as many as you can with a weapon in your hands, going out in a blaze of glory. You never held a gun before though and it was most likely that everyone in this military could shoot you down before you could aim it at one person.

An hour or two passed by and you finished up the sorting, neatly tapping them together. It really wasn't a difficult task at all, were they going to make you do something else for today? You quietly waited for any orders, the two focused on their own thing until Reiner suddenly got up.

"I'll go get lunch for us. Y/N, you can relax for now, there's nothing else we need from you today. Good work." He ruffled the top of your head playfully, just like he did before after a training session in the corps. The blond soon left the room, leaving only Bertolt and you alone.

The two of you sat in silence, your hands fiddling with the seams of your uniform. Was sorting the only thing you're going to be doing during your time here? You'd quit within the month if that was the case but if not, maybe in due time you'll save enough money to open up your own shop. You've always wanted to sell clothing back in Paradis, just like your mother and father.

"You look good in the uniform." Bertolt finally mumbled out, the sound of a paper flipping over barely making it audible. You slightly flushed at the comment, diverting your attention to the closest wall in sight.

"Really? I feel like a wet cotton ball, it's so uncomfortable. The scouts uniform is way better." You grumbled, tugging at the cloth around your legs.

He slightly laughed at that, shaking his head. "No way. The scouts uniform was too tight, not to mention the straps were always so difficult to put on."

"Maybe it's cause you're a literal giant compared to everyone there. I just know they had to customize a whole other set for your ass." He snorted and started laughing, dropping the paper in his hand. You couldn't help but let out a few chuckles as well, crossing your arms together. The two of you bantered for a little bit longer and just for a second, it felt like you were right back home in the training corps canteen.

Everything fuzzed out in your hearing and you soon found yourself comparing home to here. The smells were different, not quite fresh as the countryside air and had a more smoky tone with every breath you took. The sights were different, more machinery was seen rather than grassy fields and trees. The people were different, there was no one recognizable to chat with besides your kidnappers. Everything here had entirely evolved and you were being forced to adapt to it. The realization made you feel a drop in your stomach, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Bertolt."

"Hm?"

"I want to go back home." Your voice was meek, heavy droplets falling down and staining the white fabric beneath you. His body stiffened and he got up from his chair, almost slamming it into the table when he pushed it in.

"This is your home." He responded coldly, a singe of irritation trailing off his words as he left the room, slamming the heavy door shut. You started to sob quietly, tightly holding onto the sides of your sleeved arms.

No it wasn't, and Bertolt knew it too.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Your work schedule was simple: Monday to Wednesday from 9:30 am to 6 pm, you served the Warrior Unit. Every other day, you could do whatever you wanted and that was that. The pay was pretty good for a livable wage, but nothing special. No task you were given from Reiner or Zeke was too difficult either, it was usually just sending out letters to their superiors or sorting anything they wanted you to sort. To be honest, it felt like they were just tolerating you since the Marley government didn't want to deal with you anymore. It sucked but it's better than being belly-up in the ocean.

You haven't tried to make amends with Bertolt after that day because one, it was his fault so why would you apologize anyways and two, he hasn't been around that often in the office space. Reiner explained to you that there will be days, sometimes weeks or months where some or none of them will be here. Apparently when they came back with the failure to retrieve the Founding Titan, the loss of Annie and her Titan, and the inability to capture Eren's special Titan, some nations came together and declared war on Marley.

"Hopefully it won't be so often that we're going to be gone for long. Wouldn't want to have you sit at home and do nothing." Reiner teased with a slight nudge against your arm before downing his glass of liquor.

"I do nothing even when working. Maybe I'll pick up some new hobbies when you guys are gone, like knitting or cross-stitching."

Maybe you can give the creations to your neighbors since you were just doing it for fun. One of them is an expectant mother and since you had moved in, she had been nothing but kind to you. It would be nice to give something to her in return.

"Alright grandma." You elbowed his side hard, rolling your eyes. He grunted and started rubbing the affected area, grumbling under his breath about your temper.

"Where's Bertolt? Aren't you guys inseparable?" He suddenly cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. Back in the training corps and the short time in the Survey Corps, you've rarely seen the two separated. Wherever Reiner went, Bertolt followed suit.

"Probably caught up in something. He'll be here soon, he never cancels without notice." He waved his hand dismissively and you thought none the wiser, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass before taking a swig.

"Already missing him?" You suddenly choked on the liquor, throat burning at the sensation. No way. No way in hell, you'd ever miss him. He could get swallowed up by another Pure Titan and you wouldn't even bat an eye. You'd laugh instead, basking in the blood that would gush out of his torn corpse.

Before you could even say anything back, a soft voice popped into the conversation. "Missing who?"

The two of you turned and there stood Marley's behemoth, still dressed to the nines in his uniform. Reiner greeted him happily, ignoring the question completely, turning towards the bartender and ordering another scotch for his friend. Bertolt settled right next to you, taking the glass in his hand and drinking up the entire thing in one go, some liquid spilling out of the corner of his lips. He quickly wiped it up with his thumb, his tongue peeking out and licking the remnants away. His cold green eyes glanced down at you suddenly, catching you staring at him.

A flush of heat went through your skin, quickly looking away to stare into your partially-full glass. The drinks kept on coming, the haze of alcohol filling everyone's systems. You were the least intoxicated, slowly taking in the new attitudes and information from your drunk companions. It wasn't much but they became more chatty, opening up about their lives before Paradis.

"I joined because of my mother." Reiner moved his glass towards the bartender, his head leaned up against his arm as he watched the brown liquid fill up his cup.

"Oh yeah?" He nodded, taking a sip from the newly refilled glass before speaking once more.

"She had high hopes that our family would've been whole again. Me, her, and my father. He's, uh—" He cleared his throat, turning his attention towards you. A faint dust of pink rested on his cheeks, a cheeky smile growing. "He's a Marley-blooded man, so y'know... I'm not really supposed to..."

"Exist." You muttered as you finished his sentence and he let out a soft laugh, nodding lightly before downing his drink again.

"Harsh, but more or less, you could say that's it. Compared to me though," The black-haired man closed his eyes, huffing softly. "Bertolt here is more tragic."

Curious but puzzled, you turned your attention towards him, his hand running through his gelled locks and he mumbled something under his breath before taking a shot. You did wonder a bit about how this man turned out to be the worst attacker on Paradis Island's humanity, it felt sickening thinking about a sweet little boy being trained into a horrid monster.

"You know I hate talking about it Reiner." The blond snorted, turning on his chair and leaning back on the bar's counter.

"C'mon. Let her in on your situation, after all—" He stood up, walking over to him and placing his hand over his shoulder, leaning in close to his ear that you almost barely caught what he said.

"You owe her that much."

Reiner made his way to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone once more together. The thought of trying to decipher what he meant flew past your inebriated mind and so you sat in silence, instead thinking that you might as well make your way home now. It was probably already past midnight, and you were sure that you were waking up late with a massive headache. As you finalized your decision, turning in your stool and towards the door without a goodbye, the thump of glass hitting wood snapped you out of it.

"I was raised only by my dad." Bertolt started and you slowly turned back towards the counter, your full attention on him.

"Don't know what happened to my mom, he never really told me and I was never curious enough to ask. It was just the two of us for as long as I knew but even as a kid that could barely read, I knew that he wasn't... okay." His fists clenched together and you could hear the cracks of his joints from how tightly he was gripping.

"When you're born an Eldian and live in the farthest parts of the internment camps, medicine is hard to get by and treatment is even more difficult to obtain. The minute I became eligible to join, I took the opportunity." You don't know what compelled you in the moment, but you placed a hand on one of his fists. He started relaxing once he realized that you were touching him, still stiff as he reminisced further.

"Did they give him the meds?" Bertolt nodded, taking in a shallow breath.

"A few days right after I inherited the Colossal, they started giving him everything they promised and he was getting better day by day. It wasn't until I left for our mission in Paradis that his condition evolved into something worse." You swallowed nervously, slipping your fingers into his and holding his massive hand gently. His head turned towards you, his eyes soft as he looked into your gaze.

You've never seen or heard him be so vulnerable before, guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. For him, he was fighting a one-sided war against your home, all because he wanted to take care of his dad. Yet in return, he caused the displacement of so many from their families, ripping them apart with a few kicks into the walls.

"When Zeke came on Paradis and we finally met up, I asked him about my dad and he told me that despite all the medicine and treatment that he's been getting, he wasn't getting any better. I had to see him again, no matter if I had failed the original mission or not. I couldn't die on that island without being able to see him again and I just barely made it. Sometimes the way we escaped made me wonder how I even made it out of there. It was only for a few months that I got to spend with him once we came back, but he passed away in his sleep last month."

His hand tightened around yours, though not enough to break it. No wonder he started to look more disheveled and exhausted recently, his whole reason for getting where he is was now gone. You pitied him but that didn't excuse the murders of thousands he did in your homeland. At the same time, it didn't mean that you should bring that major fact up, not when he was currently grieving.

"I'm sorry Bertolt."

"It's alright, you don't have to pity me. I have more to be sorry about towards you and the others. I'll never be able to properly make it up, nothing I'll ever do will be enough to wash away the blood on my hands."

The two of you sat there in silence, a warm hand around one cold hand. You really should leave now, before Reiner comes back and you'll be stuck drinking even more than you wanted to. You attempted to finally slide off the wooden seat, but he clenched your hand gently and tugged you towards him instead. Your eyes fluttered in both confusion and tiredness as you stood in front of his sitting frame. Blinking once, his face appeared right in front of yours. His free hand slid behind and rested against the nape of your neck, feeling thin but calloused fingertips tenderly brush against the skin as he pulled you even closer.

Okay... this was getting a little too weird for your liking. Beginning to open your mouth to verbalize your annoyance and trying to move back, he then took the opportunity to press his lips against yours.

You could taste the alcohol that the three of you had been previously been consuming intertwine with the tobacco's bitterness of the cigarettes he used, a vagueness of something sweet brushing up against your tongue as he tried to coax you into returning the action. His stubble was rough against your skin the more he moved, digging deeper as he pressed further into your mouth.

You had half the mind to bite that damn muscle of his, but the warmth of both the alcohol and him was stupefying, hypnotizing. It felt like you were melting against him, a warmth pooling in your stomach and in-between your thighs. Slowly, you convinced yourself to return the kiss, gravitating into his embrace. It was stupid of you to do considering you hate the guy but hey, who doesn't do stupid shit every now and then? Fuck, you even started wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders.

There wasn't much people in the bar anyways, either too drunk off their minds to care or simply ignoring the disgusting couple intertwining themselves in the public space. The bartender was off chatting with another patron, most likely used to the sight of a couple making their passion uncomfortably known to others. It's the Colossal Titan user, who on Marley dared tried to say something about it?

The hand that once was holding yours, grabbed at the crook of your back to draw you even more impossibly near him, then sliding down towards the curve of your ass. To your utmost surprise, he clutched and squeezed at the flesh firmly, feeling you up with this sudden confidence that you would never thought of him having before.

"Annie."

Sobriety hit you like a cold bucket of water splashing onto you once you heard her name slip through his swollen lips, taking no time to immediately shove the man right off of you. He just told you his story, that his dad had just died last month, and here he was, kissing and groping you and then suddenly calling out Annie's name. You were breathing hard, eyes wide as saucers as you stared down at him in shock.

"What the fuck? What the fuck!?"

Bertolt's hand reached out to you, as if he was trying to make you lift him back up. You've never felt so nauseated to hear those very words come out of his lips as a valid apology, like it was no big deal.

"I love you."

You ran.

You ran out of the bar, into the blackened sea of night, never once looking back. If you did, you were afraid of what you might see in his eyes or if he was chasing after you. With tears lingering in the corners of your eyes, one single thought remained.

Out of everyone in the squadron, why did it have to be him?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

For a month and a half the day after what happened, you never saw Bertolt in the office or around the internment zone.

It was probably the first time him and Reiner were ever separated for this long, the blond telling you that it was his own decision to be sent off into the battlefield alone. You wondered if he told him what he did to you after he came back from the bathroom, or excused why he was on the floor and why you were gone. Reiner never said anything about the incident, so it soon faded in the back of your mind into obscurity.

He wasn't your first kiss anyways, some now-dead nobody trainee back in the day was, and the two of you were drunk, stupid shit happens. Part of you also somewhat knew about Bertolt's fondness for the Female Titan user, originally not knowing about how close they were previously, but damn it. For a heated moment to be ruined like that left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn't help but hate him even more for it.

"He's back."

"Who?" Reiner's fist came down on the top of your head playfully, catching your attention from the paperwork.

"Y'know who. Better talk to him now before he passes out from exhaustion from the looks of it. Also, because I know you miss him~" He teased and you swatted his fist off of you, watching him as he walked off towards the main room laughing, leaving you with a pit in your stomach. You really didn't want to talk to him, even if a month had passed on by, but legally, he was your superior. Professionalism before personal feelings unfortunately.

You finally got up, walking slowly to the destination before taking in a deep breath and entering the medical unit. Bertolt was near an open window, a lit cigarette lazily nestled in-between his fingers as he stared out of it. He was the only person there and you swore that every time you saw him, he started to look more unrecognizable from his previous cadet days. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore, falling at the front of his eyes; in fact, you thought it might've grown out a little more from the last time you saw him. The Titan marks were still prominent on his face, like he had just transformed not long ago.

Wiping your clammy hands on your puffy uniform, you approached him, pulling up a chair nearby the bed and sitting down stiffly.

"Welcome back sir."

His head turned towards you and you swore that you felt the room grow colder as he gazed into you through the black strands of his messy hair. Maybe you were the only one that noticed, but his eyes were dead, hollow but still held some sharpness in those pale green irises. This was no longer the Bertolt you knew, this was a numbed man that got mentally thrown and torn apart in the arms of the constant war, the constant transforming, and the constant murder of many.

"Hit me."

"E-excuse me?" He must’ve gotten faster because you didn't realize how quickly he grabbed you until he pushed the palm against his healing skin. It was burning to the touch, as if you were right next to a blazing bonfire. Instinctively, you started to try and wiggle out of his grip but he held steady.

"Hit. Me." Bertolt's grip grew stronger around your wrist, fear creeping in through every cell in your body as you watched the surrounding skin pale from how hard he was holding. "That's an order."

You swallowed but nodded quickly in agreement, just so he can let go of you before any bones shatter. He immediately released you straight away, the action as fast as he previously took ahold of you and took a hit of the nearly burnt out stick. You had to hype yourself up for it, thinking back on every rotten memory you’ve had with him, balling up your fist and striking him as hard as possible where he originally placed your hand. The force made his head swing the other way, the cigarette butt dropping on the ground as your knuckles throbbed in agony. It was like directly punching a stony wall, not like the previous time you punched him on the boat to Marley.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, straightening back up as you held onto your wounded hand. "And how do you feel, Bertolt?"

Bertolt’s body didn’t move, but his hand began to slowly trailing up to the injury, pressing his fingers against the forming bruise. You flinched as he pushed his hair back to where you could finally see his eyes, exhaling the smoke that he previously took in through his nostrils. He glanced over in your direction and let out a soft chuckle, although you noticed that it didn't quite reach those dull eyes of his. There was one thought that lingered in your mind as you stared back into his gaze, that he must've gone crazy fighting in the frontlines.

"Good hit, make me bleed next time." ...What? "Though, I'm surprised that you decided to visit after... what we did the last time we saw each other."

Recovering quickly from trying to process what he just said at first, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms. "The Vice Captain requested me to visit his right hand man, who am I to refuse his wishes?"

He simply hummed in response, reaching for another cigarette in his pocket and his lighter. Placing the unlit stick at the side of his mouth, his eyes caught yours once more, a slight smirk forming. "When'd you start talking like the soldiers? You forget the years we've spent together already since I've been gone, or did you finally get in trouble for treating us like equals?"

You scoffed, pulling your lips in a thin line. "You're the one that gave me an order earlier, and I've had a recent revelation that I had to start acting like a subordinate rather your friend or buddy or whatever the fuck we are, so yeah, I guess it's the latter."

"Ahh, better watch your language then or I'll have to report you for profanity against a superior." Bertolt was of course joking, the mocking tone intertwining with his words. As you felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance, the sound of lighter clicked and ignited, your eyes watching him pull the flame near.

"Y'know..." He started as he took in a drag, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and soon exhaling the smoke out slowly. "I've been thinking about you the entire time I was gone."

A heaviness plopped itself back on your shoulders, and you wanted nothing more but to excuse yourself out of his premises. You were about to say something to leave him alone, but he kept on talking, droning on and on about how he was counting down the days when he could finally see your face again. Bertolt mentioned that you were the only reason he kept on fighting, why he kept on killing so his commanders could see that he was doing such a swell job as their loyal Titan holder and let him leave early. What a horrible ideology, most of those people could've been innocents.

"And another thing, I kept thinking back on the kiss we shared that month ago." All the color drained from your face, turning and taking a step back to try and run, but felt his hand grasp onto the fabric right against your back. His voice had the same disdainfulness as before, a demandingness that you didn't even know he had in himself to project.

"Don't leave and turn back around. That is an order."

You grit your teeth, finally turning back around once he let go of your uniform and find him standing, his tall stature hovering over you. Nervousness crawled up your spine, flinching once you felt his cold fingers reach over to caress your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, inspecting your features quietly before taking another drag of his cigarette. He then neared your face and press his lips against yours.

Recoiling at the abrupt kiss, you tried to push him away but the grip on your face was painfully tight, almost akin to the hold on your wrist earlier. You could do nothing but endure this assault, a slight whimper slipping out as the soreness of your face grew.

Bertolt's tongue brushed against your lips, trying to coax you into opening them. You might as well obey, just to get this over with and the fact that you were running out of oxygen at an alarming rate. Once you did, he pushed the smoke in your mouth as he deepened the kiss, the burn in your lungs and in your throat getting worse. In a panic, you bit down as hard as possible to free yourself, the taste of iron combining with the bitter nicotine. You quickly doubled over and started coughing, watching in tears as vague smoke came out of your mouth with every heave and breath.

"Ah." You peered up at Bertolt from within your teary vision, the tips of his fingers on his lips and pressing against the wound you inflicted. It was deep from what you're able to see, but already started to heal itself. Yet, that's not what at all made you run out the room in distress, almost vomiting into the bushes once you stepped foot out of the building.

You watched in mortified horror as he smeared the crimson around his lips and chin, a seemingly euphoric and satisfied expression reflecting on those pale green eyes of his. He looked down at your frozen form, crouching down and reaching over to your face with his bloodied fingers. A small whimper slipped out as he smeared the substance on your mouth, a hungry grin forming.

"Isn't this a beautiful sight? My blood on your lips, I wonder if I can make you bleed for me soon." It felt like he wasn't supposed to say it aloud, but maybe he wanted you to hear, to have a taste of what his true self was like. That thought alone made you run out, leaving him on the ground once again.

This time, you had to make sure you'd never see the sick fuck ever again.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

And this brings you back to the beginning, in Reiner's home completely agitated and frightened for your life.

The past few months, Bertolt resumed his normal duties along Reiner and you; although you limited your interactions with one another, you can’t help but notice that he was following you everywhere. Not just at work, but the times where you were on your breaks, going out to eat, shopping for groceries or clothes, even in your own home; you saw him. You barely caught him sometimes, he'd disappear in a blink once you tried to get in a second glance to confirm who you saw.

He lingered behind corners, staring at you with such a frightening glimmer in those dull eyes of his. He was usually expressionless as he stared into your very soul, not a single crooked smile or the usual slight upwards curve of his eyes. Nothing, absolutely nothing. And the strangest part was that he never said a word, just... stared. Sometimes he just stood there right in the public's view, crowds of people passing besides him without a single glance towards the weirdo in their way.

There was nothing you could do about it, he wasn't technically bothering anyone and due to the internment zone being rather small, they already knew that he was associated with you. How unfair it was. You wished you could live like them, ignorant and dismissive of the monster that stood right next to them.

Him being right outside of your window was your final straw, the lamplight just barely highlighting his features as he stood in your backyard. You screamed and backed up into your dining room table once you realized that he was right against your window, pressing his hand against the glass as his breath began to fog it up. His eyes were crazed, the first time you ever saw anything in them after weeks of ignoring him. You flung the drapes over the window — as if it could do anything to protect you — before running upstairs and hiding in your closet for the rest of the night.

If he was able to sneak up on you, to be that close without you noticing… what else has he done?

"He's being a fucking creep, Reiner. If it's not him trying to figure out that I'm some kind of double-crosser, it's him being some kind of perverted stalker." He snorted at your remark and you could tell that he was not entirely convinced. You took in a shaky breath, finally putting down your foot.

"Then I would like to request that I leave the Warriors unit and work somewhere else. I don't care where and if I have to move, all I want is to never see Bertolt ever again." Reiner's expression suddenly hardened and he pushed himself off the wall, leaning on the table opposite of you. You've never seen him quite as serious until now, unease filling your stomach.

"You do realize that we cannot protect you once you leave the unit, right? The only reason you're alive still is because of us, Y/N. Anywhere else in the other units, the generals and commanders will watch you like hawks for any mistake you make, minor or not. They would use any excuse to have your head." His hand rested on your shoulder and squeezed it firmly, checking his surroundings before leaning close into your ear.

"Look. I know about Bertolt's strange behavior, trust me, I've already noticed he's been off ever since he came back from that recent excursion. I don't know if I can convince him to stop doing this to you, but I mean it when I say that you're better off staying in our unit." He then leaned back and lightly smiled for more reassurance; a part of you felt that it was the scout in him that was talking and that made you feel a little better.

"We're all you got in this world and your best chance for living. C'mon, just give him one more shot." This wouldn't be happening in the first place if you left me back in Paradis, you thought bitterly but hesitantly nodded your head.

"Okay, fine. But you better get it in his head that I don’t want him stalking me anymore or I’ll report him to General Magath and leave the unit, no matter what the consequences are." You got up and headed towards the exit, turning your head to see him slowly push in your seat. He noticed that you didn't leave yet and lifted his hand up, almost waving goodbye.

"No promises," Reiner held up his pinky, slightly wiggling it. "But I'll do my best."

You scoffed, but smiled regardless.

"Then whatever happens, it'll be on you."

The next day continued on as usual, something normal for once as both Reiner and Bertolt weren't in today. You thought that they must've gotten deployed to another war since you hadn't seen any of the other Warriors either, but you continued work as usual for your shift. Even if you weren't required to, you might as well lighten the load for you the next time around.

By the time you were done with half of the stack, you finally called it quits, seeing that the sun had began to slowly set behind the towering buildings right outside of the windows. Clocking out, you slung your satchel over your shoulder and pushed past the doors, quietly walking back to your home. Now that you started to think further during your trek, it's strange that you didn't get any notification from Reiner about their sudden leave. He'd always gave you some kind of heads-up even if you didn't ask, either through a note or in person.

Was this something so serious that not even you can know about? That would make more sense, you're technically just an underling to them, you didn't need to know more confidential information from the Marleyans as a Paradisian; not like you wanted it or had any use for it anyways. The orange glow of the sun began to fade, the sky slowly turning darker by the minute as lamplights started to flicker on right on cue.

You were so close to home that you started to pick up the pace, a feeling of anticipation running through you. It's not like you felt scared, no. This was the first time in days that you finally felt like you didn't have to look over your shoulder, the first time in months where you didn't feel like you were being watched.

In a matter of minutes, you finally reached the front door of your home. You rummaged through your bag for the keys, taking your time as you pushed through the unfortunately crowded mess. There was no need to rush anymore, not until they come back, and hopefully Reiner was able to talk Bertolt out of his abhorrent, unprofessional behavior. Letting out a happy hum as you finally found what you were looking for, you pushed in the key and turned it open, only to be greeted with a gut feeling that caused goosebumps to immediately form on your skin.

Something was wrong. Despite everything being in their right and respective places, there was something... off. Standing still at the entrance way, you scanned the environment slowly, a lump forming in your throat as they darted to-and-fro nervously. The windows were locked, you knew they were, and none of the drapes seemed to be moved or altered from their original places. There was only one entrance and to get to the backyard, you would have to take the side fence door at the outside of the resident. You almost were tempted to back out of your own house, the one place where you've considered as the safest haven from the outside. This feeling, it had to just be that you were unused to being finally left alone... right?

You finally took a step inwards, the wood creaking underneath your boot. Mentally, it felt like excruciatingly long hours had just passed by for you to get another step, internally praying that your mind won't play tricks on you from the various sounds that were occurring in the considerably old home. There's nothing or no one here, you're just being a paranoid baby.

Exhaling slowly, you finally shut and locked the front door behind you. Repeating the phrase over and over gave you confidence to continue forwards, determination in your eyes. You'd be damned if Bertolt thinks he could scare you out of your own home, you'd rather go to prison than try to stay at his home for temporary shelter.

You lost your appetite to prepare a simple dinner, now knowing that you'd prefer not to try cooking something when you've just arrived in fear for your life. However, you carefully made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a knife out of the wooden block. The sound of the metal sliding out of its sheath may have been the loudest thing you've been currently hearing. You gripped onto the handle tightly, turning towards the stairs.

You knew you weren't alone here, the house may settle now and then, but this felt different. This was different. No matter what your brain was telling you, your gut was telling you otherwise.

Crrreeeaaakkkk...

You froze, feeling suddenly out of breath as you stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. The sound came from your room, there was no doubt about it. A memory of Bertolt trying to secretly make breakfast for you flashed into view, the sounds of pans clashing below waking you up. You should've questioned how he gotten in the house in the first place during the earlier stages of this thing of his, but you were far too hungry and tired to even notice until now.

In meticulous steps, you made your way to the staircase, trying to make sure you didn't step on the wrong board and alert the intruder of your presence. Hell, he might've already known since you unlocked the door. The hallway never felt longer than it was before as you approached the room, the moonlight shining down on you and the weapon held in your dominant hand. There was more creaking the more you came towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest in the rhythm of a thousand Abnormals sprinting towards their next delectable meal.

The door was slightly ajar, alarms ringing in your head. You never have left the doors in your room open in your life, especially when sleeping and even when you left the premises. Someone is in there and you know who it is. Taking in a deep breath, you leaned in gradually towards the crack in the door, trying to control the trembling in your hands as you peeked through.

The stench of blood first hit your nose, then the sight within nearly made you scream in horror. Bertolt was in your room, sitting on the middle edge of your bed, all bloodied from head-to-toe what you were able to tell from the street's lamps dully illuminating the surrounding room. Though that was stomach-churning in itself, the action he was performing on your bed made everything even more heinously depraved.

The bastard was fucking his fist with your panties wrapped around his cock, his pelvis erratically jutting into the tight hold he put around it. His lips were slightly parted, almost barely audible groans slipping out with every stroke. Even worse, you could hear just the cusp of your name with it, your own face growing warm.

You had to report this to General Magath, now. Burn your bed and used underwear once you got the chance to second on the list. Reiner failed, maybe even never went up to him, and now you had to take the drastic way out of this. He finally took things way too far; if not your underwear, it might’ve been you.

You took a step backwards, immediately paling as the floorboard behind you squeaked loudly under the weight. The movement from within your room paused abruptly, anxiety and dread crawling up your veins with every passing moment. The sound of the bed springs being relieved of any weight on them immediately alerted you that you needed to start running or hide until he leaves. It was too late, the door opening with a grinding, crackling noise.

"Welcome home, Y/N."

Bertolt lunged at you, instincts kicking in as you swung the knife, aiming for his throat. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, you’ve seen Mikasa do it years ago and he healed without any trace of the injury left, but it would give you enough time to get to Magath’s residence. At least, that’s what you tried to do, but he moved last minute, the blade only digging into the side of his face towards his mouth.

He was stunned by it at first, a nauseating feeling permeating within your stomach as you watched the skin and muscle separate as he opened his mouth, blood streaming down his jawline in thick streams. Then he started chuckling, pressing his hand against the wound roughly and almost pulling it apart. This was no time to stay shocked however. You took this final opportunity to run, carefully trying not to cut yourself as you made your way down the stairs.

"Y/N!!!" Oh god, oh god, oh god. You reached the entrance, turning the lock and pulling it open, the cold air of the night blasting in your face. Freedom was right there in your grasp — just right there — before a thickly drenched hand from behind grabbed ahold of you from the mouth and pulled you back inside.

You couldn’t scream as his bloodied palm held firmly down onto your mouth, tears streaming down your face as he lodged himself right between your legs. He was crazed, his pupils dilated with excitement as he stared down at your quivering form. You could the hardness straining against your uniform pants, a sob stuck in your throat. The inflicted wound on his face was obviously starting to heal, steam coming off of it.

"Good try, too bad you aren’t strong enough to even try to finish the job." He took the knife out of your hold, his blood still staining the edges. Bertolt neared it towards your throat, your body fighting back as it approached closer and closer.

"Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving like that." He scolded, as if he wasn’t the one with the weapon, the cold blade right against your jugular. You froze on cue, taking in sharp breaths with your nose to try and not to panic even more.

"You weren’t meant to see me uh—" His face flushed pink, scratching his uninjured cheek with his pointer bashfully. This bitch was acting like he didn’t just break in your home, committed a perverse act on your bed, and about cut your throat open. Bertolt slightly adjusted himself, rubbing his still-hard cock against you. "But it was pretty exciting, how long were you watching? Did you get excited?"

You wanted to shake your head, only flinching as you felt him unbuckle the belt, nimble fingers unbuttoning and zipping down your pants. You had no choice but to feel him slip his dirtied hand into your underwear, his fingertips pressing against your hole. A proud smile grew on his face, a vast contrast to your horrified expression as the two of you made the same realization. You’re wet.

Bertolt pulled the knife away from your neck, short relief coming out of you in waves, but he didn’t drop it or throw it aside. No. He used it to tear your uniform shirt open, a muffled yelp escaping you as the cool air made contact with your bare skin.

"We’re going to have some fun together, okay?" You felt like throwing up in his hand, hoping that you’d asphyxiate from it. Your heart stopped as you realized that he was nearing the tip of the blade on your lower stomach, right below your belly button.

"Right after I carve my name into you."

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darkbutterflyart · 1 year

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Let's be realistic: they only have each other😭

Some Reibert Angst and Bertholdt lives AU🥲

Really had to force myself here to only do black and white and not shading too much🙈

Hope you like the sketches! I had a lot of fun! I just love drawing them❤️

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #season 4 bertholdt #reibert #my art

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dollyslvttt · 3 months

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random modern au attack on titan headcanons

eren gets into fights regularly, mainly with jean

armin watches those fan service isekai animes

mikasa is wiccan, and does daily spells and rituals to try to make jean leave her alone

jean is a “i need a goth gf🤓”type of guy

sasha comes from a low income family

marco and armin do chess and robotics together

ymir is basketball player masc lesbian

annie, reiner and bertholdt all come from military families and have known each other since childhood

annie, reiner and bertholdt were forced to do jrotc together

connie and sasha live in the same neighborhood and are best friends

historia secretly has a crush on ymir, despite talking to reiner

#attack on titan #aot #eren yeager #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #annie leonhart #reiner braun #historia #ymir aot #headcanon #aot headcanons #aot hcs

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lymoncat · 8 months

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AOT HCS MODERN AU! What pet you guys own

Eren-

he has a dog I’m not even gonna lie, he comes across as a dog person, he doesn’t care what breed but prefers big dogs specifically German shepherds he bought a dog when y’all moved in together and he’s actually really close with the dog, you named the dog bobo you chose the name cuz you thought it would be cute, the dog is very attached to eren

armin-

a cat, an orange tabby cat. Armin comes across as a more calm less crazy person meaning he would want a cat to chill and read with. He named the cat tangerine cuz it’s orange. You bought him the cat for Christmas one year since you didn’t know what to get him. It’s the wholesome moments, when you see him on the couch after work holding the cat, you fall in love all over again with your gentle small ray of sunshine

Jean-

you may think that he has a horse but your very wrong, he has an annoying green parrot that calls you mom, you can simply walk by the change and you’ll hear “food mom?” And you eventually get used to it and get another parrot for them to play together and stop bugging you

connie-

oh you poor unfortunate soul, him and that tortoise. Jk he has a dog still, you poor unfortunate soul, him and that dog do everything together, he has a border collie that joins you two in everything, taking a shower, the dog is at the door, using the bathroom?, the dog is staring into your soul, trying to leave? The dog is following you out the door. The dogs same is bacon cuz the dog loves bacon

Reiner-

Bull dog off the bat, he has a big dog strong like him, they wrestle on the living room floor all the time, go on walks, play fetch, chase little kids- wait- what?! Yeah, they think it’s funny to chase children in the park especially the snotty teenager brats over in the corner doing some not so innocent things, the dog is a female named Presley very energetic and playful but don’t expect any unwanted visitors there will be none, middle of the night a robber comes ain’t no way that person getting out alive, maybe in a body bag but not alive.

Bertholdt-

a tortoiseshell cat with gold eyes, you guys went to an animal rescue center for your anniversary and he fell in love with this cat, he was begging you until you said yes I mean how could you not?! He’s batting those pretty green eyes while on his knees with the cat “please can we get her? I’ll do anything my love” it was a yes in that very moment and next thing you knew you were on your way home with a cat named pineapple don’t bother asking how that name came across his mind but it’s always nice to see him in one of his weird sleeping positions with pineapple splayed across his chest on her back

Erwin-

a lazy pug named Mr. There’s no question just a fat lazy pug that sheds buckets of fur.

Levi-

you begged him to get an animal and he kept saying no until he came home to you having bought one without his permission, he glared and looked pissed until that fat fluffy black cat looked him in the eyes with her emerald ones. He caved in. The cat was named jasmine and he allowed you to keep it because cats are very hygienic and easy to take care of. He hates changing the litter box but will do it for Jasmine. And when he does actually sleep it’s curled up with you and jasmine and absolutely precious, jasmine sits on his lap when he’s doing work and he shares his food with her all of the time strangely enough she loves lettuce, you’ll be in the kitchen making salad and she’ll prance over and sit there meowing for lettuce

I hope you guys liked this, please comment your thoughts and send me requests and don’t be afraid to give me feedback ❤️✨

#connie springer #connie x reader #aot x reader #aot headcanons #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover #aot x reader fluff #jean x reader #jean kirstein #eren jaeger #eren x reader #reiner braun #reiner x reader #erwin smith #erwin x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader

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mvrtaiswriting · 10 months

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Run your mouth x Armin Artlert. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

this is a revisited (and better) version of my old work. enjoy!

gender neutral reader. pronoun "they" used.

warnings: angst (it ends well), suggestive, intoxication (weed). alternative au

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

“Why didn’t you not say anything?!”

“You need to stop letting people speak to you like that, Armin. God, even one of Connie’s ‘yo mama’ type of joke would have been a more decent comeback!”

Those words rolled down your tongue before you could realise it, planting one dagger after the other right where Armin was hurting the most. Yet, Armin's gaze escaped yours one more time that day, looking at everything else but you. Letting himself crash against the sofa of his living room, he finally sighed.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Armin finally spit out, biting his bottom lip. Another sigh escaped his lips as you watched him run his fingers through his hair, a few blonde strands falling over his forehead. All he wanted to do was leaving everything that happened behind and avoid another conflict. Specially with you.

“Fine.”

Was all you managed to say, rushing towards the door and putting your jacket on. The warmth on your cheeks was getting harder to ignore and you just couldn't allow yourself to lash out at Armin again. Maybe Armin didn't care - maybe he was able to leave it all behind. But you weren't, and if those words didn't hurt him, they definitely hurt you. There was nothing in this word that could justify his complete lack of reaction, the complete silence you were met with every time you tried to talk things through.

After all, this was a tale as old as time. Since you had known him, you had seen him react. Not when Bertholdt took his book out of his hands and set fire to him when you were in middle school, not when Annie almost punched him but you intervened instead - ending up in a fight and then in an hospital room with 5 stitches on your chin as a consequence. The two of you had met in primary school, when you were still taller than him and his hair was longer than yours - and you always took care of one another. The memory of Armin's little finger putting a plaster on your scarred knee on the playground was still vivid in your mind - you've never parted way since.

It was so hard now to grasp onto this dear memories. All you could see was a grown man not standing up for himself, a true believer of always being the biggest person instead of flipping someone off - even if that meant overlooking the worst episodes of one's life. Adrenaline was still pumping in your veins from earlier on that morning, that pervasive sense of frustration still all over you as if you had to fight back, as if you were the one who was insulted. You were fuming - you were mad at him for being so passive about life, you were mad at the world for being so disgustingly cruel.

Armin’s blue eyes remained locked on you the whole time, meticulously following your movements as you roamed through the room to pick up your things. You were gone before he could say something, before he could swallow the lump in his throat and actually come up with something that would make you stay. Yet, before he could come up with something, you stormed out of his apartment, neither of you speaking one more word. It was only when he realised you were distant enough that Armin finally let himself go, a frustrated scream finally making its way out, emptying his lungs and lifting an heavy weight from his shoulders.

There were so many things Armin should have said - maybe he should have thanked you for standing up for him, for always stepping up even if it didn't matter, even if he didn't deserve it. He knew you could see right through him; he knew that you could how much all the hatred collected through the years had cracked his seemingly unbreakable shield - you knew there was hurt underneath his shell of indifference.

Maybe he should have told you that he hated himself for all those times he had put you in danger, by allowing you to step up - or maybe he should have just told you that he was working on his avoidant tendencies. Maybe, just maybe, he should have confronted you and tell you that yes, he hated being involved in stupid arguments but he would turn the world upside down for you.

When Jean asked him to come over, Armin didn’t think about it twice: he really needed an excuse to shut down his brain.

The familiar, stinging smell of weed, typical of Jean's and Connie's apartment tingled Armin's nose even before knocking on his friend's door. Jean was quick to open the door, leading Armin to the living room where the rest of the group had already started their session.

Sitting on the floor, Armin took place next to Eren. Despite Jean's invite to a 'boys-only' night, Armin couldn't help but quickly scan the room, hoping to find you there. There was radio-silence between the two of you - and he hated it. Quickly reaching his pockets, Armin grabbed his phone and scrolled quickly through his notifications - not a call, not a text. Not from you at least.

“Someone told me you had a rough day.”

Eren's raspy voice called Armin back to reality. Armin only nodded in response, before his friend passed him the already light up joint he was holding in his hands.

“Are they okay?”

Armin asked, taking a long drag from the joint between his long fingers and leaning his body against the sofa, shoulders and head resting on the seating’s pillow. As he breathed the smoke in, Armin realised you must have talked to Mikasa about what happened.

Eren nodded silently, knowing well enough how worried Armin was for you.

“They’re with Sasha and Mikasa, they’ll join us later.”

Eren added, only receiving a weak nod from Armin in response.

Riding off the slowly building up high, Armin let his mind wonder. How could he be stupid enough to let you walk away? Was he testing his luck even further? How hard could it be to realise the luck that he must have had during all those years - in which you never left his side. Always showering him with love, and care, and so much affection - and all he managed to was being a damsel in distress. Never man enough to stand up for himself, or for you. How could he even dare to dream of you, how could he even bring himself to think you could love him the way he loved you - and deserve it. If love was to be earned, Armin wasn't sure if he'd ever deserve yours.

Armin finished his joint without even realising it, smashing its remains against the ashtray as he slowly started to feel his body become lighter and his mind quieter, highness rushing over his body as he finally felt calm for the first time that day. The rest of his friends were a mess, Connie laughing his lungs out while having meaningless conversation with Jean. He enjoyed the peaceful chaos of the moment, finding himself laughing at one of Connie’s ‘deez nuts’ jokes without even realising it.

When you finally arrived at Jean's apartment, followed by Sasha and Mikasa, Armin had already smoked one more joint with Connie - yet, this didn't hinder his senses. Simply hearing you greet the rest of the group made him sit up straight, his eyes quickly scanning the room hoping to catch a glimpse of you. When you finally entered his visual field, he couldn't help but stare for a moment. Locking his blue eyes on you, he looked at you in religious silent as he observed every movement your body made. Not a word left his lips - he couldn't bring himself to say a word. A wave of unexpected emotions had rushed over him and all he could do was admire you, finally being able to maintain eye contact with you for the first time that day.

Letting out a big sigh, you were quick to notice the state Armin was in. His eyes were half-lidded, the blue of his iris emphasised by the redness of the rest of his eyes. You slowly kneed next to him, scanning his face looking for any trace of lucidity.

"You're beautiful."

Armin finally spoke. Your faces were only a few centimetres apart while you made sure he was okay, so close to him he could feel your warm breath tickling the skin of his face.

"Shut up."

Was all that you said as a soft smile adorned your lips, finally sitting next to him. Even when sitting down, he still managed to be a little taller than you. You let your head rest on his shoulder, and he instinctively adjusted himself to ensure you were comfortable enough.

"I mean it. and.."

Armin paused, taking a deep breath. He wasn't lucid, but he wasn't absent-minded either. He just was high enough to have the courage to speak up about his feelings.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't."

You replied, letting out a sigh. Snuggling closer to Armin, you guided Armin's arm around you, engulfing yourself into his embrace. Armin was quick to tighten the grip on you, letting his long fingers reach your hips and holding you tighter.

"I wish I was a better man."

Armin spoke again. His words felt sharper than ever this time, piercing right through you. The last thing you wanted was to make him feel as if he wasn't enough - all your life you tried to make him understand his worth.

"You're the best man I know."

You replied, making Armin giggle. Your replies were always quicker than his, always sharper - and he loved that. Armin watched as you reached for his hand, playing with his fingers. Snuggling closer to him, you let your head rest on the crook of his neck - your breathing gently itching his soft spot, constantly sending shivers down his spine. Armin remained silent for a while - he was feeling your body in ways he had only dreamt of, his senses being completely overwhelmed. Yet, it was your words that echoed in his head - was he hallucinating? Are these words that every friend would say to another?

Shifting from your position to sit down properly and take a hit from the joint Connie passed you, Armin was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, trapping you in his embrace once again. Your back was now resting against his chest, your bodies perfectly fitting together like a puzzle-piece. That was the quickest reflex Armin has ever had in his life. Where were you going? He didn't want you to leave his arms. Not tonight. Not ever.

Laughing at his reaction, you allowed him to hold you closer, melting under his touch. His hands wondered down your hips again and every stupid fibre of your body ached for more, your skin almost burning every time Armin's fingers grazed you, even by accident. If only Armin had known about this - about all the times your mind went dumb at the sole idea of him touching you. If only Armin knew how much you loved him, and cared for him. If only Armin knew the only reason you were so mad at him was his blindness to the way you ached for him, realising just how wonderful he was.

Taking the joint from Connie, you were quick to take a hit. Armin's eyes were once again fixed on you, as he watched the way your lips wrapped around the joint's filter - dying to have a taste of them. Armin shook his head, trying to think straight - but he just couldn't. The higher he got, the more the thought of you crowded his mind. Your lips had him so obviously hypnotised, making his mind wonder off again; flashback of you kissing when you were 12 because you wanted to be each other's first kiss was everything he could think of. The way it felt, the softness of your lips, the sweet innocence of a typical, awkward first kiss. Too many times he had asked himself how would it feel to kiss you now that the innocence was gone, now that he touched himself under the shower just thinking of you.

Worried about Armin's sudden silence, you shook his shoulder only lightly, in hope to get him back to reality.

"Are you okay? Wanna hit?" Armin looked at you for a second, processing your question and analysing the scene he was watching. You were standing only a few centimetres away from his face once again, your lips were burning red because of the heated filter you smoked from. His heart was beating quickly and suddenly that was all he could hear. Flashback of you kissing running through his mind once again, the dirtiest scenarios he imagined you in flooding his mind and running just before his eyes.

"Fuck that."

Armin said, before grabbing your waist and pulling you into a desperate, passionate kiss. His grip felt unusually strong and firm on your skin, his touch loosing its usual kindness as he locked his lips on yours as he slid his tongue into your mouth, desperate to have a taste of you. Although surprised at first, you were quick to reciprocate the kiss, letting your hand reach his jaw and almost pulling him on top of you.

Jean and Eren cheered for Armin, echoing some stupid choirs as the two of you ended up making out on the floor. Breaking the kiss due to a shortness of breath, you rested your forehead against Armin's. Staring at you, he left a soft kiss on the tip of your nose praying you won't notice the redness of his cheeks.

"Damn it Artlert.."

"So you do know how to run your mouth, uh?" you teased, leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

"I have a few more tricks I can show you."

89 notes · View notes

daleelahwrites · 8 months

Note

Got any Hc’s on how Timeskip Bertholdt would interact with the warrior kids

He definitely has a soft spot for them and Gabi would definitely try to compete with him in sharpshooting.

I feel like Udo would idolize him, (I HC Bertholdt returnd with Reiner to Marley after RTS) because Vice Chief Bertholdt is able to command respect from a select few reluctant Marleyans

But him and Zofia would so precious. Him seeing Annie in Zofia just feels so heartbreaking and him being concerned about her safety more than the others because he wasn’t able to save Annie

Annie was left behind on Paradis and for all he knows, Annie is likely dead. I can imagine him accidentally mistaking her for Zofia a few times.

Ouch. Such a sweet and bitter headcanon, anon!! I can see the whole scene and it hurts. But even with all the sadness, see Bertholdt being able to help the little ones it's just so-- 🥲 and he seeing Annie in Zofia!! How sad, how helpless he would feel when the poor girl dies... And Udo, such a horrible death... He couldn't save another life, after trying his best... Annie, Zofia, Udo... He feels like it doesn't matter the person, he just can't save them. It's like he already knows, since they escaped Paradis: this is the world as they know. But he is sick of this fucking damn world.

I love you bring Udo and Zofia, those kids deserved better! 🥲

Gonna post it so the others can read your ideas! Thank you so much for sending this message! 🥰✨

#ask #ask anon #bertholdt lives au #post time skip bertholdt #vice chief Bertholdt #this hc is so good!#udo aot #zofia aot #queue

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tender-hearteddd · 2 years

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

bertholdt x fem!reader

modern au, college au, established relationship, slight music nerd bertholdt, bertholdt is above 6’4, reiner ships you and bert so hard (´◡`)

wc - 4.0k

warnings - kissing, overthinking, insecurities abt relationship, kinda bad 😭

a/n - wrote this on a whim when i was on my work break so it’s not the best 🙁 unedited and kinda messy

bertholdt loves it when it's just you two.

having his head cuddled between your plush thighs as you play with his brunette shag you hoped he never cut - watching the princess diaries in a comfortable silence you two shared so often that came with a growing mutual understanding of your budding relationship. he kisses the side of your plush thigh once in awhile when you run your hands over the side of his head in that way you always do when youre positioned like this on nights like these - when reiner is gone slaving away at practice right before the big game and it's just you two showering each other with affection.

that's until reiner comes back to his shared apartment with his best friend of over 5 years.

"reiner!" bertholdt slightly yelled like it was bloody murder. bertholdt quickly stood up, getting his abnormally big head (and big body) away from your thighs trying to act like nothing was happening - which was exactly happening. bertholdt accidentally pulled you off the couch as he frantically got up, a thud coming under you and a sympathetic look coming from bertholdt. sure - bertholdt loves showering you with his affection, but he'll never actually parade it in front of others, including the person who has seen him naked several times.

"what are you doing here?" he stupidly asked like him and reiner haven’t been living together for a whole year now.

"oh you know - coming back to my lovely home after a long day at practice.” reiner explains as he drops his gym bag and take off his sneakers, not acknowledging his best friends awkwardness to make him and you feel better.

it’s been a routine for the past couple of months. he’ll come home, see you and bertholdt cuddling, lost in your own world, and bertholdt being abruptly deported from his own little world with you whenever reiner appears into the living room.

reiner finds it slightly entertaining, not just how embarrassed bertholdt gets but the way bertholdt can easily be this close to you; you’ve created your own world with each other, speaking a language only you and bertholdt can understand. sure bertholdt’s awkward tendencies get in the way of him showing his love for you but reiner can see the way you love each other when he sees you two giggle at the plural form of ball.

and when you scold him for eating peanuts ever since he found out he was allergic to them because during your guys first date, they brought out a bowl of peanuts as an appetizer and apparently peanuts aren’t supposed to hurt your mouth like that (yet he still eats them).

and when he makes CDs for you filled with the static noise he calls music reiner and annie can’t stand yet you somehow like it.

and when you made reiner secretly steal all his pants one by one so you could tailor them to fit into his long legs.

and when bertholdt loves you to the point where he creates and you love him to the point where you can invent.

and when bertholdt gets too lost in his head, and reiner or annie never know what to do, but somehow you’re the only who could find him, and when bertholdt makes sure you don’t ever get lost, ever.

and when reiner comes home, after a long day at football practice, and he catches a quick glimpse into your shared world with bertholdt, speaking your own language, and he sees how he becomes you and you become him in the way you two hold each other. reiner likes this bertholdt, don’t get him wrong, he also likes awkward bertholdt a lot as well but he knows bertholdt is a lot more than an awkward sweaty lanky mess. he’s just happy that bertholdt has someone to be himself around - even his awkward self. and reiner would totally try pushing bertholdt to be more comfortable with holding you in front of others but right now, he smells like wet grass and total ass and he can’t feel his legs; trying to push bertholdt out of his box will have to wait.

apart, scratch that, a good chunk of you finds it insulting. like him being your boy and you being his girl is hell on earth. you know bertholdt loves you. of course he does! you’re his own prayer. but sometimes - he gets up a little too fast whenever reiner comes home, and it makes you do the unthinkable; overthink.

which is exactly what you’re doing right now as bertholdt helps you up the floor and you could feel his once dry palm, which he used to play with the side of your thighs as you played with his hair, now moist do to his nervousness. you sighed under your breath and grabbed your jacket and bag from the front door.

“alright, gonna take this as my sign to leave.” you said avoiding eye contact with bertholdt and reiner while zipping up your jacket.

bertholdt knows you’re annoyed. and he knows you’ll tell him that it’s fine.

“good luck tomorrow reiner!” you yelled as you were making your way out the door.

“wait!” bertholdt ran after you, swiftly putting on his house slippers, “let me walk you out!” bertholdt grabbed the top of the door frame preventing it from slamming, ducked his tall body under the door frame, and gently closed the door making sure he wouldn’t bother reiner.

you waited for him as he jogged a short distance to catch up to you.

“hey,” he greeted you like you weren’t hanging out the whole day.

you know you should say hi back, you always do, but you know what he always does? he always pushes you away when reiner comes home. and it’s not his fault for being so shy, but still, can’t a girl hold her boyfriend in peace?

“are you mad?” bertholdt asked with the worried look on his face he always seemed to have.

“no.” you briskly told him, keeping your eyes forward.

bertholdt sighs as he pushes the button for the elevator to go down. your arms are crossed as you wait for one of the elevators to be available. usually you and bertholdt would talk about everything and nothing - why he hates his philosophy professor, king krule possibly coming to paradis, if you should get those jeans from jaded london, giving him a fake palm reading just to touch his hands, looking at the view from the window in the elevator room and people-watching into the apartment complex across the street - but right now, it’s silent, and not the comfortable kind you two always have but the “please don’t be mad” kind.

“are you sure you’re not mad?” he asks, a little exasperated watching you walk into the elevator while you try to avoid eye contact. he walks in after you, distracted from how worried he is about you, the tall oaf ends up hitting his head on the sill of the elevator.

“Ow!” he rubs his forehead with his pointer finger and his thumb trying to numb the pain. he ducks down to the mirror of the elevator to check for any bleeding and catches you trying not to laugh your ass off at your oaf of a boyfriend. you have the prettiest smile, he swears. he tries to suppress his own smile as he hears you fail and you erupt into snorts and giggles.

“do I have to hurt myself in order for you to acknowledge me?” he jokingly asks.

“yes.” you respond as you still have a grin on your face from your fit of laughter not too long ago. bertholdt presses the button to go down to the garage, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek to reassure you about whatever you’re upset about.

bertholdt walks you to your car, still a little cautious around you.

“what’s on your mind? i know something’s wrong.” bertholdt steps in front of you, preventing you from going any further to your car. bertholdt isn’t letting you go to sleep tonight feeling like this.

“it’s nothing really.” and it really is nothing, to you at least but not to bertholdt.

“it’s something.” bertholdt quickly retorts gently bringing his hand to yours.

you’re a little emotional, you’ve always been.

“can you just hold me? there’s no one around.” you reassure him. bertholdt’s heart stings at your act of reassuring him. bertholdt looks around for a moment and hugs your body to his in the empty parking garage, feeling your specific type of inviting warmth to his chest and having the smell of your vanilla coconut leave in conditioner scent hug his nose. he’s leaning against your car as you lean into him.

“are you mad because i pull away from you whenever reiner comes home?” he gently asks as he gave you a kiss on your head.

“im not mad, just..”

bertholdt gives you all the time to continue.

“just..are you embarrassed of being in a relationship with me or something?” you look up at him, slightly teary eyed, hoping he wouldn’t notice. but he does; because he wants to make sure you’ll never get lost.

“no! of course im not!” he furrows his eyebrows at you. you stare up at him looking if he’s telling the truth. and you know he is but overthinking gets the best of you sometimes. “you should be the one embarrassed to be in a relationship with me!” bertholdt jokes to make you feel better.

you smile as you hug him tighter, “never.”

“it’s just sometimes i feel like you are embarrassed of me.” you push the side of your face into his chest, avoiding eye contact once again.

“I’m not.” and he isn’t. bertholdt looks down at you with sympathy in his eyes, rubbing and kneading your back. he knows you deserve someone who can hold you whenever they please.

“you know how shy I get.” bertholdt reassures you that it’s his problem, not yours.

“i know.” you tell him. “i don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just want you to hold me, just right now.”

“trust me, holding you doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

bertholdt holds you in his strong arms like you’re a dove. every touch from him is carefully placed. you pout your lips signaling for a small kiss. as soon as he reaches down to give you a quick kiss, the tip of his ears red from his meekness, here comes porco galliard and his loud ass car beeping twice at you two. your eyes crinkle at his cars bright ass headlights and bertholdt lets you go from his grasp, not wanting porco to see the monstrous act of holding his girlfriend.

“give this to reiner for me!” the boy named after a pig yelled through his rolled down passenger window and threw out reiner’s jockstrap, bertholdt catching it as he let out a sigh of dissent. porco irresponsibly and annoyingingly, may I add, sped out of the garage, bertholdt yelling at him to slow down.

your eyebrows furrowed in distress when your giant of a boyfriend let you go. you watch as he slightly jogs after the speeding car and yells at the pig man driving it to slow down. bertholdt walks towards you, the dissatisfied look in your eyes wishing he kissed you a few moments earlier. bertholdt gives you a sympathetic smile as he held reiner’s jockstrap in between his fingers.

“bye,” you curtly smile back and tried as fast as you could to get into your car as you ignored your boyfriends goodbyes.

bertholdt watched your car drive out of the parking garage, a disappointed groan coming from his body.

the olive skinned boy closes his apartment door with a sigh. it pains him to know that there’s apart of you, that may grow into a chunk, that thinks he’s ashamed of you. and you know he isn’t, but he knows how you overthink. hell, he can’t blame you. if he was in your position, he would think the same thing too.

but bertholdt is shy - painfully shy, almost like he’s cursed to be this way forever, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you the way he does behind closed doors in front of others. if bertholdt could, he’d have you attached to the hip.

bertholdt is just…how you say - modest.

one touch, and he knows he’s gone.

it took him at least three months into the relationship for him to even comfortably hold you, and took him another three for it to become a regular thing. every touch from your fingertips is a modified blow, and bertholdt is made of glass. the first time you molded your hands to the side of his face, he swore he shattered into a thousand pieces. and you put him back all together. you touch him like a prayer, a prayer only you two understand. the first time you touched bertholdt, when you held his face, or when he laid his head in between your thighs, or when his senses are overloaded with you - bertholdt feels his heart take root in his body, discovering something he doesn’t even have a name for.

so it’s not that bertholdt is embarrassed, he just craves even the slightest brush of your fingertips against his skin too much.

“You forgot your jockstrap.” bertholdt throws it to a now freshly showered reiner, who is currently eating his second bowl of lucky charms right now.

“thanks.” states a tired reiner.

reiner put his now empty bowl in the sink while bertholdt got ready for bed.

“goodnight bertholdt.” reiner slaps bertholdt’s flat ass.

“goodnight reiner.” bertholdt does the same to reiner.

reiner yawns and before closing his bedroom door, he peeks his head out, and with tired eyes and a tired voice, he tells his best friend since middle school,

“if you could slap my ass every night, you can hold your girl without being a scaredy cat about it by the way.”

bertholdt looks back at him with a surprised look on his face.

“you should hold her more.” reiner states before he kicks his bedroom close and going to sleep for his game tomorrow.

and bertholdt agrees.

these intrusive thoughts aren’t letting you sleep. the many times bertholdt has pushed your affection away in front of others is making you cringe and the little voice inside your head is not letting you forget them. there’s a devil and angel on your shoulders arguing whether he really loves you or not. you’re being dramatic, no you’re not, yes you are. all you really want is your boyfriend to hold you. is that too much to ask? you wanna cry but you don’t let yourself, bertholdt would let you. you let out a frustrated sigh and grab your phone from your nightstand. a second ago it was only 12 but now it’s almost 3 o clock in the morning. to hell with these intrusive thoughts.

bertholdt <3: Just wanna say goodnight and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I hope you feel better in the morning, I love you.

sent at 12:25

you roll your eyes at the text message sent by your boyfriend but can’t help but feel a teensy bit better, but not enough to fall asleep. a glass of warm milk and those melatonin chocolates bertholdt bought for you will do. you find your roommate pieck awake at almost 3 in the morning making herself a cup of tea in her jaw titan mug.

“he did it again.” you tell her as you get out the carton of milk and pour it into a glass.

“again!?” pieck suddenly drops her spoon into her cup of tea.

“shhhhh!” annie is in her room doing the right thing you’re supposed to do at 3 in the morning, sleep. annie is also possibly the lightest sleeper you’ve ever come across and even pieck’s soft voice can wake her up.

“did you tell him how you feel?” pieck asked more quietly this time as she blew at her hot tea.

“yeah.” you sighed, waiting for the microwave to be done warming up your glass of milk.

“and?”

“and…he told me that he wasn’t embarrassed of me and he was just shy.” you take your too hot glass of milk out of the microwave and ended up yelling, possibly waking up annie and praying you didn’t.

“shhhh!” pieck pulls her finger to her lips.

you and pieck stay quiet to listen out for annie’s footsteps, and luckily for you two, you heard none.

“well that’s good right? he’s not embarrassed of you!” pieck says, a little more quiet this time, just in case.

“yeah but, your pig of a boyfriend, who’s headlights are way too bright, came to drop off…something reiner forgot and he let go of me like i was burning hot.” you drink all your milk in one go and let the chocolate dissolve in your mouth.

“but you are burning hot.”

“pieck,” you smile at her playful flirting while staying stern to let her know now is not the time to flirt

“why the hell are both of you still awake?” annie opens the door to her room glaring at both of her roommates.

“what the fuck annie!?” you yelped in your normal voice not having to whisper anymore.

annie makes her way to the fridge and grabs a water bottle, gulping it down like she’s been stranded in the Sahara desert for eternity.

“you two suck at whispering.” annie states throwing away the now empty water bottle.

“what could you two be talking about this fine night?” annie sarcastically asks.

“your bestie is a scaredy-cat and can’t hold his girlfriend in front of others.” pieck jokes.

“pieck!”

“bertholdt?”

“who else?” you confirm

“you can’t make him do anything that makes him uncomfortable, bertholdt’s always been like that.” annie defends her best friend as if you were talking bad about him in the first place.

“im not.”

“well it sounds like you are.” annie’s a good friend, you note.

“i never took a dig at bertholdt as a person, you know how I feel about him annie, i just…feel like he’s embarrassed of me.” you look away from her, a little embarrassed yourself.

annie scoffs, sitting down at the kitchen table “he is not embarrassed of you stupid.”

you look at annie a bit relieved.

“he’s just meek, okay? trust me, it gets to me sometimes too. bertholdt always seemed like he would be meek forever..”

“that’s not a bad thing.” you retort

“can you let me finish first?” annie continues “but, and I know you know this, he’s destined to be more than that.”

“he is already more than that.”

“i already know that.” annie says

there’s a bit of an awkward silence and pieck has awkwardly been stirring her tea the whole time.

annie sighs, “he seems to be a lot more confident ever since you’ve been with him and….” annie hates that she’s admitting this, god she prays you and pieck learn to whisper so she won’t ever have to say something like this again to anyone.

“I like that he’s happy with you.”

your eyes brighten up with joy.

“really?” you smile brightly.

“yes really.” annie sighs once again.

“thanks annie.” you give her a hug and she awkwardly pats your back. you make your way back to your bedroom, with a lingering smile on your face. you text bertholdt goodnight and you know he’s gonna worry over the time you sent your text (3:15 in the morning) but at least now your intrusive thoughts have stopped.

annie doesn’t see you as a friend like pieck or the rest of her friends do. you’re just her roommate. but ever since bertholdt has been dating you for the past 9 months, he does things like hum while doing basic tasks, developed an actual sense of fashion, listens to actual good music and her favorite? tells her and reiner that he loves them every night in their groupchat.

“annie?” pieck says quietly, her tea gone cold.

“yes pieck?” annie sighs, once again.

“do you like bertholdt, in the way Y/N likes bertholdt?” pieck is also a good friend.

annie turns to pieck a bit dumbfounded “pieck, I am literally a lesbian, god.”

“oh thank god.” pieck lets out a breath of relief.

annie goes back into her room, her head now hurting.

you have no idea how football works.

you chant offense when it’s defense, defense when it’s offense, don’t even know what it means to be flagged. yet here you are, giving all your undivided attention to the very homoerotic game that is football, trying to ignore your intrusive thoughts about your boyfriend. all you really know is reiner’s jersey number.

the score is currently 14 - 7, halftime is in three minutes, and under these late night stars, the crowd is starting to get rowdy. eren jaeger is sat three seats beside you yelling at jean kierstein about how much of a pussy the opposing team is. jean kierstein’s face is tomato red as he tries his hardest not to punch eren in the face. armin is right in the middle of it wishing he never came. mikasa knows that these losers wouldn’t even survive in a football game but she can. your roommate pieck just wants to support her boyfriend, and bertholdt and your other roommate annie are just supporting their best friend.

you don’t understand the hype for college football games. the aftermath was always so depressing. men fighting over two groups of other men cuddling each other, underage college students getting alcohol poisoning, people you’ve seen post environmental activism infographics on their instagram stories littering like it’s nothing.

you’ve seen the worst minds of your generation at a college football game.

bertholdt knows you have no idea what’s going on. he’s talking to annie about the game, while also trying to subtly explain to you how it works and annie has no idea why bertholdt is explaining the game to her. If bertholdt keeps this up, annie will probably have to beat his ass.

“the titans just got flagged? wow I wonder what they got penalized for.”

“yeah our defense, who stop the other team from scoring, have been doing really well this season!”

“our offense, who have the ball currently, have been kinda sloppy this quarter, don’t you think?”

Bertholdt is lucky halftime is about to start.

“I’m gonna go get something to eat.” annie states, annoyed by bertholdt.

“get me a korean corn dog please!” you yell after her. she flips you off as she walks away, which means yes, you will get your korean corn dog.

that silence between you and bertholdt appears from last night again, the “please don’t be mad” kind, and you don’t like it. you can feel bertholdt’s doe eyes on you and you know he’s worried about you. he let you go home feeling like an embarrassment to him and he has so much to make up for.

you two don’t really get into the typical fights, sure some misunderstandings, but nothing like this before. you’re overreacting, you know you are. but you can’t help but feel so insecure.

“you should stop explaining how football works to Annie before she beats you up.” you tell your oaf of a boyfriend in a way to let him know him that you don’t want it to be like this any longer.

“if she beat me up, would it make you happy?” bertholdt jokingly asked, a little relieved.

“very.” you gave bertholdt a toothy grin. you give him the most brisk kiss on the cheek, you don’t even think your lips touched him.

“thank you.” you tell him because you know the only reason why he even is explaining football to annie, who probably understands it way more than you and bertholdt, is because he thinks you need space from the passive aggressive predicament you got into last night. (which is far from what you need)

you’re eyes are guided back to the big jumbotron in the center of the field, watching the two dogs who represent the two teams race against each other. bertholdt keeps his eyes on you and observes the way your face lights up when you see the brown labrador dressed as an armored titan race against a black great dane dressed as the colossal.

“bertholdt that black dog resembles you so much!” you tell him in the nicest way possible as you point at the screen. ymir bursts into the most disrespectful laughter possible, her and her girlfriend historia sitting above you and bertholdt.

“ymir stop being mean!” historia scolds.

bertholdt doesn’t care though, he does look like a dog to a certain extent, and he doesn’t care - as long as he can see you smile. he disregards ymir’s snorts, he ignores eren and jean’s arguing, he hasn’t noticed that annie’s been gone for longer than usual, he forgets what breed the dogs were and which one won, the cheering in the stadium has suddenly stopped - all he knows at this moment is you. here you are, his girl, the biggest smile on your face accentuating your cheekbones with your eyes crinkling in the corner. he swears you have the prettiest smile. it makes his brain go fuzzy, makes him forget everything around him -

your intrusive thoughts have gotten the very best of you, all of last night and up to today. there’s that voice in your head who keeps on telling you that you’re not worthy of being shown off, that being with someone like you is an embarrassment - how dare anyone love you? but right now - bertholdt feels so honored in this current moment sitting this close to you and having the privilege to see you smile. he looks like an idiot probably as he admires you from his seat that his tall body can barely fit in. but he doesn’t care - all his inhibitions have left and you’ve replaced them.

reiner can’t wait until this game is over with. he’s sat on the metal moist bench with his helmet off squeezing his water bottle into his mouth as his bandages are being renewed below him by the teams nurse. the black game paint he painted across his face has became grey and smudged and his hair is soaked from how much he’s been sweating. there’s about three minutes of halftime left and he’s spending those three minutes watching the Jumbotron across him.

“pucker your lips and get ready for the kiss cam titans!” came a booming voice from the intercom.

the first couple weren’t even a couple and the girl ended up moving away when the guy motioned a kiss towards her.

the second couple gave each other a meek kiss and the crowd boo’d at their lousy excuse of a kiss.

the third couple was a girl in the middle of eating a korean corn dog and the giraffe of a man totally entranced by her cheese pull.

reiner’s eyes widen as he sets his eye on the dork of a couple who were cuddling on his couch last night.

bertholdt is looking at you like you’re the only person in this whole stupidly funded football stadium. you have a bit of mustard on the corner of your lips and your inhaling the cool night air to cool down the burning piece of fried cheese in your mouth. you look to bertholdt and stick your tongue out and point at it with sad eyes.

“I burnt my tongue,” you said with your tongue still sticking out.

“you’re on kiss cam you idiots!” ymir smiled at the both of you and playfully pushed bertholdt’s towards you.

bertholdt doesn’t even know he’s on kiss cam. he barely felt ymir push him over to you. he sees you look over to the jumbotron and grow embarrassed as you use your hand to cover your face. out of nowhere, you’re hit with the massive weight that is the whole crowd’s judgement. somehow, you’re the one filled with inhibitions and bertholdt isn’t.

“bertholdt…” you whisper to him, “we’re on kiss cam!” you say this like it’s the worse thing in the world.

all bertholdt hears is kiss and that’s what he does - in front of thousands of people, all of paradis’ college towns watching on their TVs, in front of eren jaeger and jean kierschstein who’ve stopped arguing due to how surprised they are, in front of armin arlert who’s just glad they’ve stopped arguing, in front of mikasa ackerman who has never felt so much second hand embarrassment in her life just from you eating your corn dog, in front of pieck finger who’s smiling so big because you were just telling her last night how you felt bertholdt was embarrassed of you, in front of annie leonhardt who can’t help but roll her eyes at you two, in front of ymir who’s cheering bertholdt on, and in front of reiner braun, who’s annoying the nurse who’s bandaging his calves from his constant movement as he stands up and cheers for his best friend since middle school.

bertholdt is carefully cradling your face in both of his hands, like you’re his own personal prayer, his own personal heaven, his own angel; they’re large and warm up your cool face and his fingers reach to your scalp. you didn’t expect this from him, you even thought he would just walk away pretending to not even know who you are (and if he did that, you would give him something to be embarrassed about). but here he is, his lips on your lips, kissing you like this is what mouths are for. finding warmth in his mouth, you relax into his lips and hold his hands closer to your face.

neither you or bertholdt can hear the crowd cheering you guys on as bertholdt’s lips put you into some sort of trance just like how your smile induced his. it is every kiss bertholdt owes you every time he pulled away in front of others. it is the song baby by donnie and joe emerson that is the first track on the CD bertholdt gifted you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. it is the last track - ‘baby’ by ariel pink. it is bertholdt’s hands cradling your face up to reach his lips and your hands on his, your mouth becoming his mouth, it is you who breaks into shards and it will be him who will put you back together.

once you both pull away due to the ear-paining air horn signifying that halftime is over, the kiss cam screening had already been over with. bertholdt’s olive skin heats up, his lips covered in your gloss and your lips a bit swollen.

you look up at to him with bright but bashful eyes, and you smile.

and he swears you have the prettiest smile.

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pickalilywrites · 2 months

Note

Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Marco, Reiner, Bertholdt, Porco and Marcel all go into a haunted house. First one who leaves the place screaming has to ride the most embarrassing kiddie ride in public

thanks, this was fun :)

never too old

104th trainee squad boys. modern au. 2789 words.

The group of friends stand in front of the haunted house, although some of them look more skeptical about entering than the others. Eren and Connie look especially excited, but Armin’s lips have been pursed nervously ever since they’ve entered the amusement park and Bertholdt has been growing an unsettling shade of green as they’ve neared the haunted house.

“We’ve agreed, right? First one out of the haunted house screaming has to ride a kiddie ride?” Eren asks with the biggest grin on his face. Like Connie, he lives for horror and thrill rides and the thought of going through the haunted house excites him to no end.

“We're going into a haunted house in the middle of the summer. Is it really going to be that scary?” Jean asks doubtfully. He looks up at the haunted house with a frown. It looks out of place in the middle of the amusement park, especially since it’s such a bright and sunny day. He glances over at Eren. “Is it even worth it at this point?”

“Y-yeah,” Bertholdt stammers as he tries to put on his bravest face even as his knees shake horribly. “M-maybe we should t-turn back now. We c-can go on a different ride.”

Eren shoves Bertholdt aside so he can get in Jean’s face, one side of his mouth upturned in a smirk. “What’s wrong, Kirstein? Are you scared you’re going to run out screaming?”

There had been a time when Jean would have ignored any of Eren’s jibs, but Eren’s provoked him for far too long for him to hold back anymore. With a growl, he grabs Eren by the collar and pulls him forward. “Don’t talk as if you’re not going to be the one pissing his pants five minutes in,” Jean snarls before dragging Eren with him to the haunted house entrance.

The doors are a muted purple, the paint peeling although that might be by design. The floorboards of the porch creak as the group of friends cross the boundary of the amusement park and this haunted mansion. Once they step inside, the light in the entrance hall flickers on and the lamps that line the corridor turn on one by one. The lights are dim, illuminating enough to give the visitors a glimpse of the ornate rug that runs from the entrance all the way down the seemingly endless hall and the detailed paintings that hang from the wall and seem to be staring at them intently as they hesitantly step forward. Once they make it past the front lobby, a figure steps forward from the shadows, making a few of them jump.

“Holy shit!” Bertholdt yelps, stumbling backwards and nearly knocking over a vase sitting on an end table. He immediately turns his eyes downward to avoid any eye contact with the haunted house’s host whose skin has been painted blue to give them a ghostly appearance. He finds a way to stumble back and cling onto Reiner’s sleeve, groaning, “Oh my god, why’d they have to pop out like that?”

“It’s just part of the gig, Bertl. Don’t be so jumpy. You know this is all fake anyway,” laughs Reiner, pulling Bertholdt from out behind him and giving the trembling giant a pat on the back.

“Thank you kindly for visiting us today. Please be assured that we will take care of you as best as we can,” the host says, his voice more of a ghastly groan than a normal speaking voice. It only serves to make Bertholdt even more anxious about everything they’re about to encounter. The ghostly butler in front of them is welcoming them into the haunted house and giving them instructions, but only Armin, Marcel, and Marco seem to be paying any attention. If the butler minds, he doesn’t show it and continues to drone on and on about the horrors they might encounter and how they should continue to trudge forward even if they find their knees becoming weak.

“Haunted house! Haunted house! Haunted house!” Connie and Eren chant in unison as the butler is finishing up his spiel.

“Did you guys even listen to anything he said?” Jean asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter what he said. We’re going through this without batting an eyelash,” Eren says. His arm is linked with Connie’s and the two idiots stand with their chests puffed out proudly even as Jean shakes his head.

“The deal is just that we had to get through the haunted house, right? Can we just go through the whole thing with our eyes closed?” Armin mumbles. He fiddles with his hair, twirling a lock between his fingers as he stares at his feet.

“Wouldn’t that make it scarier? You don’t even know what’s jumping out and screaming at you or waving a chainsaw in your face,” Marcel points out, but he yelps when Porco elbows him.

“This whole attraction is, what, twenty or thirty minutes? It’ll be fine,” Porco says. He takes a more empathetic approach to calming down the nervous people in their party, although it’s unclear if it’s more helpful than Marcel’s more rational approach. Porco rubs at the back of his neck when he sees that Armin and Bertholdt are still shaking. He wonders if he shouldn’t have said anything at all. “Anyway, it’s fine if you guys get scared. It’s just a stupid bet. You’re supposed to get scared in a haunted house.”

As they walk down the corridor, they see that the hallway has become covered in cobwebs. There are only a few at first, but soon the entire hallway is covered and only the floors are free of spider silk. Even though Connie and Eren laugh and point at the various cocoons trapped in the spiderwebs, Armin and Bertholdt cringe especially when they see the cocoons wriggle as if the victims are alive and struggling to get free. There’s a particularly large cocoon in the corner, one that’s about Reiner’s size, where muffled screams can barely be heard.

“It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,” Armin whispers to himself in a mantra. Even though he had resolved himself to staring at the floor, he can’t tear his eyes away from the large cocoon the corner. He’s attached himself to Eren’s side, but even Eren’s hysterical laughter can’t ease his anxieties.

“It’s probably just a clever machine,” Marco says reassuringly to Armin. “Most of the things in this haunted mansion are.”

“Y-yeah,” Armin stammers.

There’s a sharp screech and a shadow drops from the ceiling in the center of the hall. Armin and Bertholdt exclaim in alarm and even Porco and Reiner curse as a giant spider joins them. The spider is twice as big as Bertholdt and pitch black with glowing red eyes. It twirls around menacingly on its silk thread, its pincers opening and closing as it lets out another high-pitched screech before it slowly retreats into the ceiling.

“I hate this place,” Bertholdt groans. He clings to Reiner’s back like a koala and Reiner laughs.

“It’s fine if you want to keep going like this, but just don’t pass out on me. I don’t want to have to carry you the rest of the way. You’re pretty heavy,” Reiner jokes, but even his light-hearted words aren’t enough to make Bertholdt feel better.

The corridor twists and turns as they continue to walk down the path. There are many different paths, but only one is open to the guests. The other paths are closed off with velvet ropes and signs that say, “Warning! Do not enter.”

As they escape the cobwebbed corridor, the hallway soon evolves into a jungle of fake flora and fauna. Even though it was bright outside, the foliage blocks any sunlight that might be streaming through the musty windows of the greenhouse. Only the dim garden lamps give them any light and it makes it difficult to navigate, so the group sticks close together with the exception of Eren and Connie who keep darting towards every moving bush or running towards every sound of jostling leaves.

“Do you really have to do that? It’s scary enough without you guys actively seeking the thing that’s supposed to scare us,” Bertholdt whimpers. He’s lagging behind, clinging to the hem of Reiner’s shirt. Despite his long and lanky legs, he’s only able to move an inch at a time.

“It’s more fun this way,” Connie laughs. He gives an excited shout when they hear a low growl of a wolf, and he and Eren run forward to find out where it came from.

“Our definitions of ‘fun’ are way too different,” Armin mutters. He’s grown increasingly pale the deeper they’ve gone into the haunted house. Like Bertholdt, he’s stumbling forward inch by inch, but unlike Bertholdt he has the ability to use his much larger friends as a shield from whatever horrors they might face.

“If you think about it, you guys are really getting a better deal out of this,” Marcel says. After failing the first time to console his friends, it seems he’s trying his hand once more. “Isn’t the point of going into a haunted house to get scared? If you don’t, it’s not a very good haunted house.”

A rapid flutter of wings and cicada screeches fill the air, causing Bertholdt and Armin to yelp. Any comforting words Marcel had offered have gone unheard. The wings flutter once more and the cicadas shriek, but this time they’re joined with the sounds of hissing and the rattle of a snake. A low growling can be heard in the distance. The growling grows louder and louder. Even as the group of friends inch closer, Bertholdt and Armin struggle to take steps forward and have to be dragged forward by everyone else. Without warning, the growl erupts into a piercing howl that makes Armin yelp, but Eren and Connie simply cackle and let out mocking howls of their own before bursting into giggles.

“I hope you two are having fun,” Jean says dryly. He and Marco are holding up Armin whose knees have grown so weak that he can hardly stand upright. “Your friends are going to faint soon.”

“Are you two able to keep going in this state?” Porco asks with a doubtful frown.

“The faster we walk, the fast we can get this haunted house over with,” Bertholdt says. Though he does his best to sound confident, his words come out shakily and his gaze is terrified at what might lie ahead.

They trudge on ahead, Bertholdt and Armin much more grudgingly than the others. Even though Connie and Eren forge ahead making jokes and mocking everything they encounter, it’s still not enough to ease Bertholdt and Armin’s worries. They’ve managed to make it past the strange greenhouse portion of the haunted mansion and have returned to a hallway that looks similar to the hallway entrance from before. The ornate carpet is the same, but this time the hallway is lit by wax candles that flicker as they walk by.

“How much more of this do you think we have?” Marco murmurs.

“Hopefully not much more,” Armin groans weakly.

There’s a door where light is illuminating so much brighter than the dim candlelight. They are drawn to it like moths to a flame. Only their footsteps can be heard as they approach the room and as they cross the threshold, they see a warm fire burning in the fireplace. The room they’ve entered is decorated ornately like the rest of the house: various paraphernalia adorning the shelves and tabletops, books with titles written in strange scripts across the spine, torn curtains fluttering as wind streams in from the open window. A closer inspection shows even more oddities: blood staining the carpet and walls, scratches across the hardwood floor and stone walls, and a strange satanic pentagon carved on the exposed in the center of the room. Bertholdt realizes too late that he’s standing directly in the middle of the pentagon.

“A sacrifice? The Master will be quite pleased,” a disembodied voice booms. It echoes across the room, seemingly coming from every direction.

As the party looks around in alarm, a figure begins to form in the fireplace and a silhouette of ash and fire rises from the embers. Just before its final form can take place, the fire goes out completely and the room rumbles with the sound of laughter. Suddenly, a cloud of smoke appears from the ceiling, illuminated by flashes of lightning from the window, and a face appears in the clouds. Its expression is twisted in an evil grin, but everything about it — the eyes too far apart, the mouth too wide, the cheekbones too pointed — is too warped to be human.

“Tonight, I shall feast!” the voice cackles and Armin faints in Jean and Marco’s arms. Bertholdt’s reaction is much more severe.

The gentle giant, finally scared out of his wits, jumps up a foot in the air screaming before running out of the room in the direction they came from. His friends, baffled, stare after him.

“Should we ... should we go after him?” Porco asks.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to go backwards,” Marco says worriedly.

“Is he going to be alright? He’s going to see everything that scared him again,” Marcel points out.

“We should probably go after him,” Jean sighs.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It turns out that running out of the haunted house in the wrong direction is highly discouraged, which is something the party would have realized if they had paid attention during the host’s speech at the entrance of the haunted house. There are many alternative routes that are typically closed off to guests and only available to amusement park workers, but guests are known to wander off either in panic or out of pure curiosity and then get lost. In his fright, Bertholdt had scurried down one of these forbidden paths and had gotten lost. In the end, the haunted house had to usher its guests out and enlist the help of additional park workers to find Bertholdt in the haunted house in an operation that took nearly an hour.

“I feel kind of bad. Maybe I should have offered that park worker more than fifty dollars to not ban us for life,” Eren says even though most of that money was Jean’s. “He was pretty young. He doesn’t understand the value of money yet. You know how kids are.”

“We shouldn’t have gone into that haunted house in the first place,” Marcel sighs.

“At least Bertholdt looks like he’s having a better time,” Reiner remarks.

The friends look over at Bertholdt riding in a small dragon roller coaster. His smile has returned to his face. He’s in the very front seat despite being the largest person on the ride. Behind him are Gabi and Falco who look like they’re having a much less fun time than Bertholdt despite being the appropriate age for the ride. The friend watch as Bertholdt loops around the tiny rollercoaster, a smile on his face as the wind whips through his hair.

“... does that look kind of fun?” Connie asks and Eren nods beside him.

“He looks like a giant on that ride,” Eren says almost enviously.

“We can’t ride on that thing. We’re not kids, and we don’t have kids,” Porco points out.

Eren grins wickedly at him. “Don’t we?”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The tired, underpaid park employee looks tiredly at the group of friends and the two children that the friends are claiming to be the guardians of. The young teenager asks once more skeptically, “So all of you are fathers of these two children?”

“Yup!” Eren says with his chest puffed out confidently. He gives the employee a charming smile, but she couldn’t care less whether or not he was telling the truth. “All of us are their legal guardians. Should we have brought the legal documents? Who brings that sort of thing around with them?”

The girl remains unconvinced, but she sighs and opens the gate for them to enter the ride. She doesn’t get paid nearly enough for this. “Enjoy the ride.”

The friends all shuffle into the carts in the front, leaving Gabi and Falco to take the cart in the back. Even though Falco seems disappointed about having to ride the same kiddie ride again, Gabi looks excited.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this. Aren’t they too old for this?” Falco mumbles under his breath.

“Aw, lighten up, Falco. It’s only just this once. And they said they’d take us to two PG-13 movies next weekend,” Gabi says with a grin as she straps her seatbelt around her stomach. “Besides, nobody’s ever too old to have fun!”

#eren jaeger #armin arlert #snk #jean kirstein #connie springer #porco galliard #marcel galliard #bertholdt hoover #reiner braun #gabi braun #marco bodt #falco grice #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests #modern au

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marleysfinest · 5 months

Text

PUZZLE PIECE | reiner x jean college au

college au reijean

fluff, c/w implied weed smoking, alcohol, two dummies in love (they just don't know it yet)

wc 4.8k

this was originally intended to be part of @reijeanweek which was lovingly curated by my wife @fromriches-tosin but alas I am terrible at deadlines and stuff got in the way HOWEVER! I always resolved to finish it and I HAVE!! it is both below the cut and on ao3 if u prefer on there but anyway HERE! reijean fluff!!!

The University of Paradis takes on new life once spring calls round. The campus suffers months of naked trees, dull and damp limestone walls, and blanket upon blanket of grey clouds every year, winter often feeling as if it lasts longer than three months. But when the sky begins to brighten and the birds begin to sing, the campus sings with it. The sports fields and quod gardens breathe to life as the grass is once again vibrant, the trees start to regain their leaves, and the crocus begin to flower. The students continue to socialise after the holiday break, but it’s not until the weather warms that they really come back to life. Parties that had been spent huddled inside a single dorm or frat house can finally spill outside to make the most of the warmer evening air.

For roommates Reiner Braun and Marco Bodt, the warmer weather means finally breaking free of bitterly cold morning runs and drizzle-filled football practice, ushering in the season of shorts and vest tops and cooling down in the shade or campus swimming pool. The two are unlikely friends; allocated as roommates at the start of their studies eight months before owing to them both majoring in sports science and, while they’d gotten off to a stilted and awkward start, they found that they enjoyed one another’s company. At the very least, they were both tidy and respected each other’s space. Reiner, in particular, had been anxious about sharing his space with someone else having grown up an only child, but was pleasantly surprised. Marco had three brothers, a fact that made Reiner’s stomach tense when he’d heard it, but being the youngest meant that Marco valued his space and belongings perhaps more than Reiner did. It had been a happy accident that the two had been paired together. Looking at them, one wouldn’t have thought they’d make good friends. Marco’s tall and slender frame, with pale skin and jet black hair was a stark contrast to Reiner’s muscular build, blonde hair, and warmer tone. Aesthetic differences aside, they grew close and soon counted each other as friends. As is often the case at college, lives become condensed and what happens on campus is shielded from the consequences of the outside world. Students have their own ecosystems, their own set of rules and regulations that would never fly in the real world. Everything is amplified, although that wasn’t always a bad thing.

While their fellow classmates were diving headfirst into all that college had to offer over the course of their first year - including, but not limited to, experimenting physically - Reiner and Marco had a habit of keeping to themselves. They went to parties together and separately, each had their turns tying a sock around the doorknob warning their roommate not to enter, but in truth, they didn’t see the fuss about it all. They had shocked even themselves at how academic they both were - Reiner, seeing through every physical test with flying colours and Marco, scoring straight A’s on every assignment - and so their efforts were simply better served elsewhere. A couple of their friends had even joked that they’d become something of an “old married couple”, with their fondness for staying in on Saturdays and distinctly lack of one night stands. They did still thrive socially, just not in the way most people would “expect”. Outside of his roommate, Reiner had befriended Bertholdt Hoover and Annie Leonhardt at a rowing society social in the autumn, and the three of them had stayed close. Bertholdt and Annie were a welcome relief from the hardcore party-goers, instead more than content to camp out in Reiner’s dorm with a crate of beers while Annie smoked out of the window. The three would talk for hours, and occasionally Marco would join. He always seemed happy enough to tag along when it suited him, and Reiner was always happy to let him do so. Marco was the type to get along with anyone; easygoing, lighthearted, a little introverted, and he tended to attract like minded people - it was perhaps why he got along with Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt.

Towards the end of the winter semester as the nights grow lighter, Reiner and Marco spend less and less time bundled in their dorm room, their only real time spent together now consisting of the late hours before bed, and the small hours of the morning. Marco mutters something about a new group of artsy-types he’s met at a social, but Reiner doesn’t catch the gist of his point, although nor is he particularly bothered. He held no ownership over Marco, there was no reason for him to know how his room mate spent every minute of his spare time.

The evening is crisp but pleasant as Reiner half-stumbles back to his room after drinks with Annie and Bertholdt. It’s not late, only just approaching 9AM, but Reiner has never been one to hold his liquor and letting Annie twist his arm into shots and beer pong after their last lecture of the day had only proven it. As he nears his room, he pauses at the sound of muffled conversation coming from the other side of the door. He hesitates, glancing down at the door handle to make sure he hasn’t missed a key detail, but sees nothing there. Has Marco just forgotten? Should he go in? The ground begins to shift beneath his feet, and Reiner knows he needs to collapse onto his bed. Urgently. With a deep breath and apology cocked at the ready, he hastily twists the doorknob and bursts into the room.

The dormitory is suddenly silent, as Reiner’s frame fills the doorway in its ever-intimidating manner. Time seems to slow down as he meets Marco’s (understandably) alarmed gaze from across the room, and breathes a sigh of relief that he hasn’t interrupted his room mate’s private time. But then, where were the voices coming from?

“Uh… you OK, man?”

An unfamiliar voice pierces the quiet, and Reiner whips his head around to see someone sitting in Marco’s desk chair, absentmindedly twirling himself left and right with a gentle push of his toes. Reiner doesn’t recognise him - although his mind is so clouded that he could have met this person before, he just isn’t in a position to recall. Although, even in a drunken stupor, he realises that surely he’d remember this stranger…

“Reiner?” says Marco, drawing Reiner’s attention, “what’s up? You look weird.”

“Uh…” Reiner’s mouth is suddenly dry as he realises just how intensely he’s put the spotlight on himself. In an attempt to shift the focus of the room, he turns once again to the stranger.

“You… you do not live in this room.”

His words are a little slurred and his stance wavers slightly as he limply raises a finger to point at the figure in the chair. The stranger’s eyebrows crease together, and from the corner of his eye, Reiner sees Marco put his head in his hands.

“No…” answers the stranger, “I’m hangin’ out with Marco. I’m Jean.”

Despite having just been offered a very plausible explanation, Reiner struggles to understand what this Jean is saying, and decides to further his interrogation after closing the door. He glances at Marco, who is sitting on his bed, hugging his knees, and has decided against intervening for the moment, the curiosity of just how the encounter will unfold getting the better of him.

“Just… just hangin’ out?” asks Reiner, folding his arms across his chest. Jean scoffs as he stops pushing the chair left and right, bringing a foot up to rest on his seat.

“Yeah, that alright with you?”

Reiner glares at Jean, not taking kindly to his cocky attitude. Jean is, after all, a guest in his room. In the background Reiner’s bed screams out, but it would have to wait. He had to know why this stranger was in his room.

“Well, that depends,” he slurs, “what are your intentions?”

Marco’s face is suddenly in his hands as Jean barks out a laugh.

“What are my intentions?! Oh my god, what are you, his dad?”

Reiner feels the heat of a blush flare in his cheeks, but struggles to determine whether it's through embarrassment or the liquor. Realising that he’s flattened any chance of an interrogation, he resigns himself to silence and heads for his bed, not once relaxing his scowl at Jean. So many comments gather in his throat - be nice to him, he’s my roommate. What was your name again? Are you his boyfriend? No, no, you don’t look like you have boyfriends. Hey, enough with the snide comments in my room - but none are verbalised as he crashes on top of the mattress. He hears quiet whispering as he loses the battle against his heavy eyelids, and soon falls into a deep sleep.

***

Saturday morning rolls around all too quickly, and Reiner wakes with a heavy head. The pillow feels as if it’s made of concrete as he rolls onto his back and is assaulted by the sunlight flooding through the curtains.

“Mornin’,” says Marco. Reiner slowly opened his eyes to see his friend sitting upright in bed, nursing a steaming cup of coffee as he scrolled the morning news on his tablet.

“Feeling rosy today?”

Reiner buried himself back into his pillow.

“Shut up,” he says, voice muffled and croaky. “Not another word.”

Marco huffs a laugh and takes a sip of his coffee, not sparing a glance at his hungover friend. He knew Reiner would be feeling all the worse for drinking - it wasn’t something he did often, in excess - and decided against pushing the matter any further than necessary.

“Whatever you say.”

The morning moves slowly in a haze for Reiner as he drifts slowly in and out of sleep, before finally clinging on to consciousness just before midday. Marco had long since gotten up and ready for the day, and had left to squeeze in some studying soon after finishing his coffee, leaving Reiner to wake up alone.

After washing up and returning to bed, Reiner picks up his phone for the first time that morning, realising that his memory of the night before is patchy. There isn’t much of a breadcrumb trail - some photos of Bertholdt and Annie playing beer pong, a selfie of them all walking down the street, presumably back to campus - and Reiner’s more than pleased to see that nobody had posted anything stupid on social media. With a heavy sigh and creeping hunger, Reiner sets his phone down on his nightstand and begins contemplating what his delicate stomach will keep down, when a knock on the door jolts him. A ripple of pain shoots through his head at the sudden noise and he lets out an exhausted groan; perhaps leaving the room wouldn’t be such a good idea. If this was what a knock at the door felt like, he didn’t fancy his chances if he came across an ambulance siren. It feels as if all his joints are screaming as he stands up. He swings the door open and is suddenly face to face with a stranger - is he a stranger? He’s tall, with unruly tawny hair cut into a haphazard mullet and faint stubble peppering his chin.

“Hey…” He greets Reiner with a coy smile, his voice trailing off and leaving the two in silence for a moment. Reiner can’t ignore that there’s something about the way the stranger is staring at him, something captivating and familiar.

“...Is Marco here?”

Reiner is snapped from his daydream and clears his throat loudly, leaning on the doorframe as he does so.

“Marco?” he asks.

“Yeah, name ring a bell?”

Why is this guy talking to me like he knows me? Thinks Reiner, still trying to decipher whether he’s put off by the person in front of him or… something else.

“Uh, no, no he’s… he’s out, sorry,” he replies, the vibrations of his own voice rippling through his head uncomfortably, prompting him to massage his temple while steadying himself on the doorframe.

“Ah…” remarks the stranger, before plunging them both into an awkward silence. Why isn’t he leaving? Thinks Reiner, although… he isn’t too bothered.

“How’s the head this morning?” asks the stranger, holding back a grin. It takes Reiner a moment to reply, as he tries his best to remember anything about the night before, thinking that he must have met this person recently.

“Not…great?” he replies, immediately feeling bashful that he was drawing a blank. The stranger huffs and takes a step back, signalling his imminent departure.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he remarks, “you were kind of out of it last night. I’m Jean, by the way, in case you don’t remember. Marco’s friend.”

There’s a twang of familiarity in the back of Reiner’s mind at the name, but more than anything he’s pleased at no longer being in the dark about the stranger who interrupted his morning.

“Jean…” he repeats, “I’m Reiner.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Jean. There’s a beat of silence before Jean readjusts his rucksack and offers a half-hearted wave, turning on his heel. “Tell Marco I’ll catch him later.”

Reiner watches as Jean disappears down the hall, weaving between the students emerging from their own dorms or gossiping in doorways, until he disappears and Reiner is alone once more. His mind is flooded, suddenly, as an interest is piqued that hasn’t reared its head in a while. After a few seconds of seemingly staring into space, he’s snapped back into consciousness, and retreats inside once again.

***

“Yeah, and I told you I’m not drinking like that again!”

Reiner’s phone is propped up on the bathroom counter, only just keeping him in the frame as he talks to Bertholdt on FaceTime while shaving.

“You don’t have to drink!” argues Bertholdt, “just a couple of games of beer pong. No shots.”

“I didn’t agree to that!” Annie protests in the background. Reiner laughs as he watches Bertholdt push her away as she attempts to elbow her way into focus.

“Whatever,” concedes Reiner as he swishes his razor in the sink, “I’ll be there but no shots. Got it?”

Annie offers a grunt of approval as Bertholdt offers his reassurance before hanging up the phone. Reiner pulls the plug to drain the sink, and as he reaches for a soft towel to dry his face, he catches a glimpse of Marco rummaging around the room.

“What’re you looking for?” he calls.

“My shoe! How does someone lose one shoe?!”

Marco’s voice disappears into a muffled ramble as he squeezes beneath his bed in search of his lost sneaker. Reiner laughs at his friend’s misfortune as he goes to get dressed, offering a cursory glance around the room as he pulls on a t-shirt and jeans. Suddenly there’s a gentle thump from Marco’s side of the room, followed by a pained groan. Marco shuffles out from beneath the bed massaging the back of his head with one hand, and semi-triumphantly holding his missing shoe high in the air with the other.

“Hey, you found it!”

“But at what cost?!”

Marco laces up his shoes and stuffs his phone into his pocket before running out of the dorm with a hurried “see ya!”, leaving Reiner in the quiet. Since the weather had improved and the year progressed, Marco had been socialising more and more, his hermit-like habits apparently only reserved for the winter months, but Reiner didn’t mind. He liked the peace and quiet of being alone in the dorm, although he also had to admit that he was meeting with Bertholdt and Annie more often than usual. Despite being a homebody at his core, he had to admit that it was nice to have found a solid group of friends.

Reiner’s about to start the search for his own shoes when there’s a knock at the door. He instinctively freezes - Marco’s already left, and he was supposed to be meeting Bertholdt and Annie at the bar, they weren’t supposed to be meeting Reiner, but perhaps they’d changed their mind. Or had Marco forgotten his keys? Another, louder knock at the door shakes Reiner out of his daydream, and he goes to answer.

In an almost exact repeat of the week before, Jean is standing in front of Reiner expectantly, wearing an expression that gives absolutely nothing away. A flurry appears in Reiner’s stomach at the sight of Jean, as he realises he is as handsome as he remembered.

“Hey!” says Jean before Reiner can even form a thought, “Marco around?”

“Uh…no, no, you just missed him.”

Jean squints at Reiner, apparently unbothered by his friend’s absence.

“You’re not hungover again, are you? Am I being filmed? Is this a prank?”

Reiner is confused by the influx of questions and furrows his brow.

“What?!”

“This has to be a Groundhog Day style thing. No way are you repeating yourself word for word.”

Not knowing how to respond, Reiner feels himself panic and flounder for the right words to say. Why does he feel so nervous all of a sudden? Reiner’s no bully, but he’s no stranger when it comes to telling someone to back off if they’re bothering him, so why can’t he do that now? What’s stopping him from telling Jean to maybe text Marco instead of just turning up and hoping for the best? The more he thinks about it, he knows exactly why, but he’s neither the type of person nor is this the place to make a move on someone he barely knows.

“I’m not…I’m not hungover! Jheeze, don’t you have Marco’s number? Call him next time.”

He goes to close the door on Jean when he’s met suddenly with a protest.

“Alright! Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to be fun, guess that didn’t come across. Truce?”

Jean holds out a hand towards Reiner, who looks down at it feeling confused. Truce over what? Being an asshole? A cute asshole…

“I think Marco might like it if we’re friends, so, whaddya say?”

“O…kay?”

Reiner shakes Jean’s hand and tries to ignore the hairs on the back of his neck as they stand on end. Jean’s hands are calloused but soft, and after just a quick glance Reiner notices the numerous multicoloured stains across his skin.

“It’s paint, not dirt,” says Jean, releasing his grip and reading Reiner’s mind, “I’m studying Art History but that doesn’t stop me trying to turn myself into Rembrant, you know?”

There’s a sudden sincerity and almost nervousness to Jean’s voice as he explains the dulled splodges across his palms and blue tinge beneath his fingernails. Reiner doesn’t know how to reply - needless to say the arts were never his strong suit - and he tries to ignore the impulsive thoughts that are yelling for Jean to just keep talking.

“Uh-huh…” His voice trails off as the two are once again lingering in silence, but the awkwardness has subsided ever so slightly as the curtain of being strangers is slowly pulled back. Jean clearly knew more about Reiner than Reiner knew about him - all thanks to Marco’s penchant for oversharing, most likely - but despite his tendency towards privacy, Reiner doesn’t feel affronted. In fact, he acknowledges that he wouldn’t mind all that much knowing a little more about Jean.

“Anyway,” says Jean, piercing the silence once again, “I gotta go. Sorry to bother you…again.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” assures Reiner, trying to shake off his daydream and frantically searching for reasons to suggest that Jean stays. Of course, he doesn’t think of any in his panic.

“I’ll call Marco next time. See ya ‘round.”

For the second time in as many weeks, Reiner watches Jean hop down the hallway until he’s out of sight.

***

The ground shakes as the bass thumps rhythmically from the speakers, whipping up the partygoers’ taste for dancing and shots. The party has long since spilled out onto the front lawn and throughout the back garden, with people jumping in the pool drink in hand and coupling up in the dimming light. Inside the sorority house, the party rages with games of beer pong, groups socialising in the halls, and keg stands in the lounge. By the time Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie arrive, the party is already well established, and they walk into something resembling chaos. The trio enter and gently elbow their way past gossiping students until they reach the kitchen, where a tipsy Historia squeals in delight at their arrival. Historia, head cheerleader for Paradis University, has a soft spot for Reiner and despite knowing that partying isn’t his scene, never fails to invite him to every party she throws.

“You came!” she bleated, leaping up to throw her arms around Reiner’s neck. He catches her small frame in his arms before gently placing her feet firmly back on the ground. She sways slightly but keeps a firm grip on the bottle in her hand.

“Beer?!” quizzes Reiner, “you are drinking beer?!”

Historia looks momentarily offended.

“Why wouldn’t I be?!” she asks, “I can drink beer!”

“C’mon, you, quit bothering everyone that walks through the door, you klutz.”

Historia is whisked away by Ymir, fellow classmate of Reiner’s, with a knowing nod and wink. Reiner would’ve been lying if he ever said he didn’t have a soft spot for Historia, too, and so knowing that she was in the capable, albeit firm arms of Ymir gave him some relief.

“Alright, I’m gonna find the punch and then head for a smoke,” announces Annie, realising she’d seen more sights sober than she’d wanted, leaving Reiner and Bertholdt to their own devices. Not always wise, seeing as they were both as timid as each other oftentimes. They each scoop a beer from a large cooler packed with ice in the kitchen and do their best to begin mingling.

By ten o’clock the party is in full force. Annie and Bertholdt are both deep in conversation with a group of Philosophy majors by the swimming pool, sharing long drags of Annie’s secret stash between muted arguments on the apparently tumultuous ethics of being a coxswain. Reiner had been with them on the sidelines but had long since lost interest in both the conversation and the smell - he didn’t mind either of them smoking, but it wasn’t for him, and soon the smoke was overpowering. He got up and disappeared inside as Annie began to roll another.

After scooping one of the last remaining beers, Reiner returns to the vaguely quieter porch outside and stops to observe the garden. Behind him is thumping music and rambunctious shouting and singing, but the party is a little tamer outside. People are playing in the pool - splashing each other and playing chicken - but the groups gathered in front of Reiner are generally more subdued and engaged in conversation. He huffs a sigh, and for a moment considers heading home when there’s a sudden presence beside him. To his right, he finds himself shoulder to shoulder with Jean. He’s taken aback momentarily, for some reason surprised to see him.

“Hey,” he says immediately, for once beating Jean to the punch.

“Hey! You’re not stuttering this time,” teases Jean. Reiner can’t help but laugh.

“Nope, not today,” he says, before glancing at his beer, “not yet, anyway.”

Jean returns a smile and the two resume gazing out at the party in front of them.

“What’re you doing here?” asks Reiner. He feels Jean shrug, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle once again.

“Eh, was talked into it by Marco,” explains Jean, “he’s run off somewhere. I think he’s gettin’ lucky upstairs, truth be told, but I’m not about to try and find out.”

Reiner whips his head round in utter disbelief.

“Marco?!”

“I know!”

The pair share a moment in surprise at their friend’s good fortune - not because it was Marco, but because it wasn’t typical Marco behaviour - and Reiner raises his bottle.

“To Marco.”

They toast to their friend, and take a healthy swig.

After stealing some more beers and smuggling them out, Reiner and Jean find a quiet spot on the grass at the very back of the garden where the party turns into nothing more than a distant, muffled echo. They sit on the grass with their backs against the splintered wooden fence and begin to get to know one another, mostly via the avenue of Marco. Jean and Marco had met by chance at a job fair and, despite having polar opposite areas of study, bonded over their mutual love of Star Wars and The Ramones. For all his cockiness and confidence, Jean had found himself thin on close friends after the majority went to different universities, and so clung to Marco somewhat when the two had made a bond. Reiner was surprised to hear that Jean wasn’t swimming with friends - his impression had certainly been the opposite - and somewhat selfishly, it made him feel better. He didn’t want a city’s worth of people to call friends, and he was happy with the little handful he had, but there was something reassuring and almost validating to know that even the more seemingly popular on campus had struggled to adjust, just as he had done.

“Y’know, even though you looked like a bruised grizzly bear that morning, I was glad to see you weren’t a total asshole,” said Jean, prompting Reiner to turn to him.

“What?”

“Y’know, the morning I came to see Marco? And he wasn’t there? And you were hungover?”

“Yes,” interrupts Reiner, “I know when you mean. What do you mean I wasn’t a ‘total asshole’?”

“Well…” Jean’s voice trails off for a moment, “you’d given me the third degree the night before and, I don’t know, I was glad to see you were just drunk, I guess.”

Reiner’s memory fails as he tries once again to remember what had happened the night he’d returned home and apparently met Jean for the first time. A flush of heat hits his cheeks, and he finds himself glad for the dim light to hide his blushing.

“Ah…Well, I’m sorry for whatever I said. Or did.”

Jean scoffs suddenly.

“C’mon! You didn’t do anything. I guess you were just looking out for Marco. I was worried you were like… dating or something.”

Instinctively, Reiner tenses at Jean’s words, suddenly feeling panicked that he’d befriended the wrong person. If Jean was the type of person who disagreed with same sex relationships then Reiner knew he was going to have to make his excuses fast. A ball forms in the pit of his stomach, churning the beer in all the wrong ways.

“Uh, no, no, it’s not… it’s not like that with Marco, he’s my roommate…”

“No!” interrupts Jean, propelled forward by the volume, “no, I didn’t mean it like that! I don’t… I mean I do… fuck, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was… I thought you were Marco’s boyfriend. Which is fine! If you are. Or if you’re not. It’s really fine if you’re not. I’m not either, I don’t have a… OK, this is not going how I planned.”

Reiner is stunned into silence at Jean’s cool-guy facade crumbling before his very eyes. So far, every interaction with Jean had involved Reiner being the bumbling, stuttering idiot and Jean being the cool, calm, and collected one able to disarm Reiner with just a glance. He’d never imagined that he’d be sitting idly by while Jean fell over his own words, apparently trying to tell Reiner something important. Jean takes a glug of beer and a deep breath before angling himself more towards Reiner.

“What I meant was… I thought you were dating Marco, which you’re not, and I’m happy about that, not because I disagree with it or anything that fuckin’ stupid, but… I dunno, Marco told me so much about you, and you walked in all drunk and… big, and…” A force that Reiner would never understand takes over as he watches Jean continue to stumble over his words. In a split second’s decision, he discards his beer bottle and leans forward to bring himself level with Jean, planting a firm kiss on his mouth. The millisecond of bravery quickly subsides and Reiner is acutely aware that he might’ve done the wrong thing, until he feels Jean kiss him back, and within seconds the two fall into each other like the last two pieces of a puzzle. Something clicks in their minds as they sit and explore one another, beneath a clear night sky and away from prying eyes, and realise that they feel no apprehension. No nerves. No worries. A revelation that being with this person is as easy as breathing, and that, just maybe, things will be alright.

#reijean #reiner braun #jean kirschtein #attack on titan #shinjeki no kyojin #reijean fluff #fluff #college au

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