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ridingtorohan · 7 months ago

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How the shifters react to you having a high body temp, knowing that it represents your platonic/romantic attraction to them

Goofy headcanon time!

Each titan shifter can recognize how another shifter feels about them based on their body heat. This includes all attraction: familial, platonic, aesthetic, romantic, so on.

SPOILERS for shifter identities AND events up to Season 4 Special Literally everyone has some spoilers for the anime to some extent. Older shifters like Kruger and KSaver is excluded, but there's 11 listed. It's in order from oldest to youngest.

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ZEKE YEAGER

He feels it for a second, when your knuckles brush against his wounded shoulder, fastening his restraints tighter, making sure he's secure while transporting him out of Marley on the blimp

Blue eyes darting to you, tracing the features on your face, lingering for a second on the titan marks beneath your eyes

Then he focuses on the task at hand, filing that away for later

He has a lot of time to stew on it, the simmering heat under your touch. Low but steady. Lucky for you! You're assigned to his guard detail in the forest with Captain Levi

Shifter to shifter, you're able to relate on a different level than he does to Levi.

Also makes note how you drop to ice cold when the horrors of Shiganshina. Probably realizes that's where you snagged yourself a titan ability.

Listen... if you saw him coming out of the Beast........... you're smoking, iykyk?

Because he's a little shit, he uses it to his advantage. Makes full eye contact with you during conversations, leaning forward. Which makes it interesting when you or Levi nip off his arms to restrain him and you have to give him a drink.

Leans in nice and slow, eyes staring directly into yours, letting you watch him as he takes a long, slow sip. Licks his lips, knowing you're watching him, leans back, eyes lidded. "Thank you, I was terribly thirsty"

Levi kicks his teeth in

Lord have mercy on you for when it's time to bathe

He literally will always use it to his advantage if you let him but will never clue you in unless you already know

Zeke will tease you about this, pressing a cigarette to his lips, his arm or leg brushing yours. "Are you cold? I can help you feel warmer" (Levi is murdering him with his eyes in the background)

Y'know maybe he does warm you up later 😏

Probably starts warming up to you shortly before his jailbreak, though it's hard to tell in what way.

After this point, it's a little too late to do anything else about it.

LARA TYBUR

Bro you hardly even realize that she's a titan at first.

As a titan inheritor, the Marley Gov't requires that you and your fellows play nice with the Tybur family whenever they visit.

She's tepid temperature at first, your thoughts and ideas making you a little colder to the touch.

You brush against each other at some fancy schmancy dinner party. She act very much like an Eldian at the party, silent, refilling your cup and you thank her.

Later, you're just feeling soo awkward with her family, with watching Willy dance around his family, laughing and jesting.

Some of the Warriors keep trying to make guesses as to who the Warhammer is but ultimately you don't figure it out

You try your luck at befriending all of them, painfully aware of Willy's eyes on you every time you talk to his sister

But something about Lara keeps drawing you in. Her quiet demeanour, the sleek attire, her proper figure. Dutiful and classy, voice quiet but confident.

Telling her about books and the latest movie, offering tea and biscuits from your Zone whenever you visit.

She never says anything about your body temperature and honestly you don't touch her often enough to notice a difference

But you do notice that she talks to you a little more, lingers by your side more than she does anyone else

During the attack, you do everything you can to defend her crystal - so painfully, carefully aware of how it burns under your titan's hand

REINER BRAUN

Sorry, he's made to suffer. Nothing in his life is ever easy. Isayama decided that. (And so did I.) (There's a happy ending, I promise.)

Things would be simpler for Reiner if everything went well, if he became a great warrior, if his father noticed him, if he did well on his missions. The first thing that goes wrong is Marcel.

When he meets you for the first time, a memory tickles at his mind. Something familiar in the way your skin touches his. Then he gives you a smile, introducing himself and Bertholdt.

Something about you always drew him in. He'd watch you across the training yard and smile whenever you looked at him. Always glad to help you out, shedding himself of the warrior skin and so much easier into the soldier one.

Sucks as a sparring partner btw. Always checking to make sure he didn't go too hard on you.

At some point you probably made mention of him working up a sweat during the training. His body temp is not much warmer than normal but noticeable. Everyone in the Cadets is his pal but there's something special about you

You, who feels like they've had a bit too much sun, but still comfortable.

With time, it may increase to a warmth that lingers in his bones, reminding him of his mother's teas and fresh bread.

He really likes wrapping his arms around you for this, a big bear who just holds you tight to his chest. Big squish!

Likes to clap his hands to your shoulders from behind, feel your warmth in his hands

If you are this warm, he'll always do a little start when you touch him, caught off guard. With as often as he's thought about you, he'll become a bit flustered at times - he begins to entertain a crush and/or getting to know you better.

However, a part of Reiner always remains..... apprehensive

Lays awake at night wondering about you, your tale of being orphaned, family long dead. Something not quite settling

This is what stops him from actually getting close-close to you

At Utgard Castle, it's obvious why something niggled inside him at the sight of you. Because one day, when his dreams were shattered by a boy, a titan lunged out of the ground. That's how you inherited the Jaw

It explains everything, in the end. He may not have recognized that you were a fellow shifter but he did recognize the body heat

You, unfortunately, are either kidnapped or agree to go along with Reiner and Bertholdt in the forest.

You are, either, an unfortunate soul cast out of Marley or a former warrior candidate who was cast out alongside your family thanks to Zeke's efforts years prior. If the latter, Reiner does mention it to Zeke in hopes of him sparing you because, technically, you are on "their" side. It's not a positive outlook either way.

Knowing your fate in Marley, Reiner spends time with you. Painfully aware of how broken his betrayal meant to you (if you're colder) or how you still believe in him (if you remain the same/increase)

Above all else, Reiner considers you a friend and he's so sorry.

If, by sheer chance, he leaves you unsupervised or your chains a little loose to "let your blood circulate" and you accidentally escape, he won't be upset.

And if, he saw you, years later, doing recon work in Marley.. and your eyes caught, he would make the conscious choice to turn away.

Marcel may have been his first mistake but he doesn't regret these two.

Very awkward when you join forces with him to take down Eren.

Reiner remembers the last time he saw you, what your touch felt like.

But the thing about Reiner isn't that his soldier personality was a persona - it's still him. He still cares for you. At this point you know what the touch means, can't blame it on the campfires. You may or may not have trusted him before but you trust him now.

Your hand slides in his, reminiscent of your first meeting, letting him know. "I trust you, Reiner. We'll work with you"

He'll still be withdrawn from the Paradis group but ... his feelings about you never really stopped. Time, distance and circumstance may have changed it, but never stopping it.

He thinks of your touch, even now, even during the final fight.

And, when everything is said and done, when the titan blood doesn't linger in either of your veins, Reiner knows how you feel by the look in your eyes.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER

Whatever you do, do NOT think about Bertholdt touching a non-Marleyan shifter after he escapes beyond the walls. Do NOT think about your touch burning under his, with Bert pleading for Zeke's mercy. Because despite everything, you still thought so highly of him.

Real talk: THIS GUY IS THE REASON YOU BECAME A TITAN SHIFTER

Unfortunately, despite being a fellow warrior candidate, you weren't chosen. Your score was a smidge below what they were looking for.

Bert was one the first to shift. In the practice field where this is done, he, unfortunately, steamed the heck out of you. Bad enough that it was a matter of getting medical attention asap. Fortunately, thanks to your score, the generals decided that you would be swapped out with one of the candidates and inherit a titan!

This is Bertholdt's first memory as a titan, by the way. :) He feels beyond terrible for what happened.

But having grown up together, helped each other through the trials and training... you two wind up being friends. Decently close, because he winds up telling you about his family, what he's doing for his father.

Bert looks up to you a lot. Always staying by your bedside when you got injured, kept a Band-Aid in his pocket for whenever you tripped during the training. (Or if he does. As gangly-limbed as that boy was, that happened often too.)

He knows but also doesn't about the significance of the warmer touches. It was probably one of those tidbits that was filed away for later and then forgotten. It doesn't matter when you're in bed injured and recovering from the heat damage he literally inflicted on you.

Super caring. Always having to talk both of you out of trouble when you wind up in it. But Bertholdt finds himself admiring that anyway, how different you are to him. (He's actually so thankful that you're a warrior with him, even if this was the worst way for it to happen.)

The other warriors clue in that you two are close but don't really comment on it. "Good for them" stance.

Bertholdt likes sitting next to you! Thighs brushing, his leg touching yours. Just small intimate moments that mean the world to him.

Then Marcel gets attacked and all Bertholdt can think about is 'thank god it wasn't you'. He'll stay wide awake watching you sleep at night, only nodding off when/if you let him sleep beside you, his palm on yours.

During training, Bertholdt finds a lot of comfort by sleeping next to you. Even if he ends up sprawled all over your body.

Thing is, Bertholdt doesn't really quite piece together the heat thing. Just knows that you're his, in some shape or form, that you're what's making this mission bearable. He doesn't miss Marley, he just misses you whenever you're not around.

Gets fidgety if you elect to join a different faction from him. But he understands. (But when you walk past him during the scouts enlistment, his hand catches yours for just a moment. Just for this. Because no matter what you mean to him, he wants you to stay.)

Fake dating trope because how else are you supposed to inform Bertholdt about the information you gathered while in the interior?

Everybody believes the ruse lmao

And, the thing with him is, there always feels like there's going to be more time. Sitting at tables, talking about your days. Reminiscing about Marley and campfires.. it's easy to think that you'll get those days back. That it's just another year, another season, another "one more time" before you get to go home.

For Bert, his feelings are... kind of a catch-all. Could be inferred as romantic or platonic. All he knows is that you're the most important person to him. He's just so glad that he gets to spend your thirteen years together.

And, when the mission goes wrong, when the attempts to kidnap Eren go awry and he has to pull your battered body from your titan, Bertholdt is right by your side, as he always is. There's always going to be another attempt, another chance. (Until there isn't.)

Bertholdt feels like home, his hand warm in yours. (He wants to keep coming back to you.)

Maybe those three simple words are whispered, right before it all goes to shit and you're captured/immobilized and Bertholdt grows desperate to get you back. Maybe you two never say them at all. But when it's just you two, the moments feel like they last forever.

(But you do. You know you have to talk about what this means for both of you, even if it meant defining your friendship in a different way. And he'll stutter and stumble over his words but listen intently, knowing that nothing is worth the cost of losing you. And he's secretly so relieved that you feel the same way, no matter what form your affection takes shape as.)

Bertholdt will cherish your friendship for as long as he lives.

PIECK FINGER

Whoo! Titan! Bes - ties!

Warrior trainees together, it totally sucked when you were passed over and Pieck inherited without you. She's pretty chill about everything, walking down the street with you while holding hands, throwing her arms around you constantly. Letting you ride atop her titan's back while she runs around the airfield.

Consider your relationship with her a mix of her squad and Porco

Legit you both are close before you even get a chance to inherit your titan, which you do! Eventually!

She's honestly not that great at explaining how titan shifting works or how to "focus" and "control" it but she'll help you get your bearings by walking around with you in titan form

Her body heat is like a heated blanket, warm and comfortable, ooey gooey melting cookie in your mouth kind of warm.

If you're ever on a long trek together, it's easy to doze off next to her, backs pressed together or her head in your lap.

Honestly she probably doesn't even think to mention how you feel to her, or acknowledge what it means. Pieck is happy with everything you are, how it feels with you.

actually tbh might comment about it everytime she springs a hug on you

"Incoming hug! Ahh... this is nice. you're so warm😊"

Your warmth is so comfortable to her. She's often nuzzling against you.

Honestly you guys would be borderline romantic, even if one/neither of you felt that way. It's just how you two are.

If you do cheek kisses, she'd be all up for that.

If you're romantically attracted to her, it'd be a seamless transition. Like you could invite her somewhere and mention it's a date and she'd just go "oh yay :)".

Otherwise at some point someone comments about how you two are always together on outings (calling them 'dates') and Pieck just goes "yes. :)" then later when it's just you two, "it really does feel like a date sometimes, doesn't it?"

Definitely respects it if you're not interested in her that way + just think of her as a sister or best friend. She won't change how she interacts with you at all (unless you mention that it makes you uncomfortable)

ANNIE LEONHARDT

A year (or a few) older than her, your family has warrior heritage; it’s a point of prestige and honour for you, moreso than for normal candidates. You have an expectation and responsibility to your ancestors to follow through. Of course you’d get a titan. Especially the one your family has meticulously trained for again and again; it’s not so much about the high esteem but keeping it in the family. Inheriting their memories. (For giggles, imagine it’s the attack or female titan.)

By the time Annie and the other warriors are partway through their training, you’ve all but confirmed your spot. It’s just a matter of establishing which one you’ll get.

You’re not exactly friends with Annie initially, especially with her aloof nature. But she’s companionable, sitting quietly if you ever approach her. Everything about her at the start is like that - withdrawn, solemn. Just as focused on her duty as you are. Either you find companionship over this fact or in spite of it - finding life worth living outside of being a candidate.

When you’re recovering from your inheritance, Annie is the one to tend to you. While you don’t remember a lot of it, amnesia getting the better of you, you’re almost certain that she was holding you.

Annie often watches as you continue your training, especially as a titan. She’ll gladly train in titan hand to hand combat with you once she inherits the female titan.

All the shifters are given books to learn about how to best utilize their titans. As they’re leafed through, it’ll mention the odd quirk of the shifters. Pieck is the most excited for this, followed by Reiner. It becomes a point of conversation, where everyone compares their temperatures - though Annie is quite reserved about the whole ordeal. She takes pity on Bertholdt who feels hot to her touch, though she does throw him under the ringer. You, though? She says not much at all, calling it quits at that point (if she hasn’t already).

She doesn't make a big deal of it at all, merely treating you like another candidate. One that she gets along with better than anyone else, at any rate.

In the group, you're dubbed "Annie's best friend". If Annie ever hears of this, you never know.

When it's time to leave for the wall, her knuckles brush against yours. The only indication that she's restless and has any qualms about what they're doing.

But as children honed for war, sometimes rivalries are hard to beat. Especially when the first tragedy strikes your group and Reiner takes the lead, leading you to wall. To mayhem. Murder is a different burden to bear, one that sits funny in your throat.

She sits with you at the refugee camps. While you've never seen her grab extra portions of food, she always seems to have some for you. She takes care of you (and you remember your first shift, how she had been the one to hold you).

Joining the Police is the only sane decision, the inner network so much like Marley. So much like home. You're relieved when Annie goes with you, even though you think it was for duty. (You never know if it was.)

Hitch gets added to the short list of Annie's friends. But nobody replaces you, nobody knows her as well as you do. You know each other's mood, the subtle raise of her brow or scrunch of her nose.

She takes her duty seriously - but she takes you seriously too.

You're the only comfort from home she has.

In the forest after she's hacked up by Levi, you're the one to grab her. To take her back, tending to her as she's cared for you so many times.

Unfortunately your close bond makes it easier to seek you out as a titan. Easier to goad you into advancing attacks, to defending her honour from horrors Armin promises she's enduring.

For you, Annie felt like home more than Marley ever had. Siblings, best friends, lovers. Whatever you felt for her, it was strong.

If you get a chance to see her chrystalized, you touch it desperately, trying to feel a sense of life inside. And you feel it, an echoing thrum beneath your hand.

She mentions it, later, when you two are alone on the ship. "I don't remember what you said, but I felt you." (She always has.)

And when you both go to fight Eren, fighting for something you want so desperately to keep now, you feel her knuckles brush against yours like they did so long ago. When you two were sworn to duty, marching to the walls. This time, you take her hand and never let go.

If you both survive this, she'll show you exactly how much you mean to her.

YMIR

100000% figured out you were a titan shifter because of this.

Her memories of the castle are hazy at best; initially she only remembers the heat and fog, the truth of Christa's real name.

While she knows quite a bit about her titan and its abilities, she doesn't know anything useful. The body heat memories? She knows it. Knows how her previous shifter learned about it, knows how he felt about his comrades.

She's hardly had reason to touch you before this, but like she figured out Reiner in the castle (they touched briefly) she also knows who you are. Knows the truth of your Marleyan roots.

Like Annie, you had been more distant from the group and more independent - you weren't as easily found out compared to them. At that point, it was only Ymir who really knew. Go, you. Clap yourself on the back for a job well done.

As well as you'd hide your identity, unfortunately the capture must take precedence. With Annie compromised, Reiner and Bertholdt outed, you have no choice but to pick up their slack.

Eren is fucking pissed that you're a titan and regardless of your involvement with the walls breaking, often voices his displeasure towards you loudly.

Ymir saw it coming so she takes it in stride and is dismissive towards you. You two really don't get a chance to speak, not until she's back in Marley and that's all that's left for her. Stone walls and iron bars, her complacency and feeling like a debt is owed is what keeps her there.

You sit with her most days, where she eventually opens up about the cadets. That's not to say you're best friends, but she's not dense enough not to take advantage of how you feel about her.

Listen, if you're not a woman, you stand no chance. If you are, she might confess her feelings towards Christa, how Christa helped her change as a person, how she felt like she could be herself.

How she could be herself around you, too.

While Ymir was never as buddy-buddy with you as she had been Christa, she had often roped you into being indebted to her, owing her favours one way or another.

She's back to her usual tirade even while imprisoned, using those unreturned favours to charter better meals or pen and papers. Most days you watch her write, rewrite, try to figure out what she wants to pen to Christa. Ultimately she writes her final draft with Reiner and leaves it in his possession.

Ymir is never quite hostile towards you, not when she learns of your service to your country, to the threat you thought Paradis posed. To the family and people you swore to protect. She understood it. Perhaps better than anyone bar Marcel.

You get a chance to touch her sometimes, changing the irons or giving her new clothes or meals.

There was a time when you were closer, as cadets. When she'd sling an arm over your shoulder, teasing about something or other. That's what it mostly was, her goading you into some tasks for her or taking the fall for things.

Back then, she used how you felt about her against you.

Unfortunately, facing death, she's mellow and more withdrawn. You don't learn much of anything during this time, not verbally anyway. But you learn about what kind of person she was, what role she had before.

And she asks for you to be there when she's eaten. Not directly, but something Reiner tells you later. When he's telling you that you've spoken more to her than she has, that she had tolerated your presence better, that you were the only Marleyan that she looked forward to seeing.

And when you go through her cell later, rifling through what meagre possessions she had, you find a letter addressed to you, hidden beneath leaflets of messy unfinished letters. Thanking you for not treating her as a monster, for not using Christa against her like Bertholdt had. That if she had a choice, she'd want you to inherit the jaw solely for your friendship with your fellow cadets and Christa.

She writes of other things too, little things she noticed about you, tips on how to get better at hiding or hitting. Advice on to living for yourself and not under the charade of the Marleyan government.

There's scrawled out ink, too, of things that she crossed out. She writes in that familiar, knowledgeable but closed off way that she does. In those sentences, under candle light, you can make out her thoughts on the heat exchange, moments from your cadet days. Once, what she would've done if you both had stayed on Paradis. Even a list of favours that she wanted to bank on, teasing remarks written in margins of paper and belittling comments that felt only praising coming from her.

Strange, how you only know her better in death, where you can no longer speak to her and hear the words left unsaid.

PORCO GALLIARD

the biggest baddest boldest guy who will LATCH ONTO YOU SO FAST MAN. I'm half joking

But he zeroes in the second your temperature spikes whenever you touch him. Turns his head towards you, gesture a little quick, eyes watching you, half-lidded. Aware, aware, aware of what this means

He's always always watching you after this, smirking softly to himself, just nodding along

You're so lucky he feels the same way because otherwise he'd just wrinkle his nose and turn his head away, "ew, you're hot" like the turd he is /affectionate.

Once he notices, Porco will always be hovering over you, in your personal space, raising his eyebrows and smirking when you turn around and bump into him. Gtfo Porco. Always casual about leaning against you, your arms brushing.

Porco doesn't really do cuddling but he'll be annoying about this, lightly touching. all. the. time.

Porco knows what it means. And if you don't say anything about it, he will. Just casually drops the fact about shifter body heat before shoving his hands and walking off casually. Leaving you guessing about his intentions.

Eventually it culminates in frustration because this smug mf won't tell you JACK.

Honestly you're going to have to confront him about this at some point unless one of the others point out the weird dance you two are doing.

(If you get frustrated with him enough that it affects your temp towards him, he'll knock it back so fast. Rubber banding it like a pro. He may be a dick but once it's clear he's making you uncomfortable he'll back off.)

Raises his eyebrows, leaning back. "You know what it means, don't you?" All smug. Leading into him talking about his own temperature, "Well, what do you think it means?" Literally makes you guess about how he feels about you. If you guess romantic, he'll lean his arm up against the wall, getting close to your face, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah."

Free boyfriend.

If you don't do teasing, he'll be more upfront. “You know what it means.” He's reciprocal so even if he didn’t romantically like you if you guess boyfriend, he’ll be like “yeah”.

Again, free boyfriend.

If you're strictly platonic, he'll do a little sigh, expression smoothing and go, “You're my best friend, dumbass.”

Free best friend.

Will become the bitchiest bitch to ever bitch if your temperature ever lowers.

Possessive possessive possessive. Competitive af. “Well, the other shifters don't feel hotter than I do, do they?" Glowers and sulks if anyone teases that your touch feels scorching hot to them.

Other than these instances, he actually NEVER mentions your temp or asks how you feel when he touches you. Would listen intently if you ever decide to describe in detail what his body temp feels to you.

Gets super smug if you mention it in front of the others.

EREN YEAGER

Sorry, there's no happy way this can end at all. :(

Eren straight up does not know about the heat thing until he inherits the attack titan's full memories.

But he's always kind of ... known in a way too. Every time your hands slap together or you pull each other out of danger, he feels it. The warmth lingering under your skin.

Grisha learned it during his studies with Zeke and Eren inherited that memory. Eren remembers then forgets in that same instant when he inherits his titan as a kid. So he knows, by pure instinct, that it's good. It feels right

He emotionally warms up to you more because of this.

Does not get touchy feely over this, although his hands often linger a little longer on you

There's two paths here. One where you're a Marleyan warrior and one where you inherit it after (jaw or in Shiganshina).

As a warrior, your betrayals burns worse than anything else. He's always suspected Reiner because of his cold+hot flashes but you? You who always burned like a star under his fingertips, who sent a wave of comfort through him?

It stings like nothing else has ever before.

It stings when he's in Marley, bandage to his face and leg, watching the people walk past.

He either waits for you purposefully or has Falco grab you a day/hours before the Marley exhibit. (Conveniently, this would be when Reiner is busy and he has an excuse to talk to Reiner later)

Or you come along with Reiner

It's such a small moment, in the end. His palm meeting yours, or your shoulders touching when you pass him by.

But it's a supernova, lit under his touch. And it settles the idea inside him that Marley and Paradis are the same, that there are people he cares for both in and outside the walls.

As a non-Marleyan, in the end, it doesn't change anything. He's still Eren and you're still you. Despite everything.

He's like a comet when he touches you later, after the rescue from Marley. Even when his knuckles are bruised from Armin's bones, when there's a fire in his eyes and death on his lips

But he's still Eren and you're still you.

And there's never enough time

(There's a memory that you only get later, after Everything. Where you sit together, toes on the beach, shoulder to shoulder. Where his skin is warmer than the sands. Where he tells you in what way he thinks about you. Where he asks you about yours and you answer. And you will remember this with a heat in your throat knowing that you'll never feel his touch again)

ARMIN ARLERT

I'm absolutely losing it just thinking about going to a sauna with Armin and after he finds out about the body heat thing he accidentally exclaims, "wait why'd you gET COLDER?" (if you do it's def because you went through the mental gymnastics of respecting his body and not getting thorsty)

He honestly didn't even realize there's a difference between normal people vs shifters because he actually hasn't touched the Warriors trio a lot prior to his shifting (so he has no baseline to compare it to). And Eren always ran hot

He really only clues in when he notices that your body temperate is a lot higher than normal and he freaks out a little, thinking you have a fever. Except everyone else assures him that no, you feel perfectly fine to them, what are you on about Armin??

Hange knows jack all about it; it's not a normal titan feature. Armin eventually has to ask Eren, Zeke or Annie about it directly

Gets flustered and comforted by the realization that you care so deeply for him. If you run crazy hot then it'll be like making him face his fear of fire (rip Armin)

If you don't know what the body temp means, he'll be all too glad to inform you! He won't ask you what temperature you feel his touches at BUT would be all too willing to test what influences the increase/decrease!

Turns super red if the experiments get a little too handsy and you both feel each other's temperatures spike

He's actually super touchy feely! Always reaching for you, giving you lingering hugs or brushing at your clothes/hair. He'll take your hand when its just you two, thumb stroking over the skin, basking in your warmth.

Will cuddle if you let him/ask him. Absolutely adores it. Always happy to indulge

If you're crushing on him, this is the thing that tips Armin off! He's so studious and acutely aware of each minute change so he notices when you get a little warmer, esp if you're reacting to him grabbing your arm or brushing something from your cheek

Probably noticed how you act around him too

If you're not crushing on him the it's just an awkward fiasco BECAUSE:

He confronts you about this. You're both just sitting down somewhere, him across from you, knees drawn up as you're talking or enjoying the silence. Eyes downcast as he brings up, "Do you have... feelings for me?" Voice soft, skin even hotter than his tomato red face. He takes your hands in his and looks up at you earnestly, "this is how I feel about you", letting you feel his emotions

In the case that Armin thinks of you strongly as a friend/ally only, he'll let you down gently. By directly referencing his newfound knowledge. Purposefully going "It's interesting that we can tell so much about the other person when you touch them like this" and he grabs your hand, looking right up into your eyes, smiling gently, "Like this. See? You'll always be my best friend" Emphasis on 'always' and 'best friend'. #friendzoned #ripyou

FALCO GRICE

Sunshine baby, baby boy, my literal son in another universe

He's always holding your hand. You're so cool! A warrior who trained with Reiner, he looks up to you immensely, although your term being close to being up stresses him TF out about Gabi

Listen, you're stuck with little brother Falco who always follows you around, tugging on your sleeve or running off on errands for you. Give him the time of day and you'll have a new dog. I mean child

If you're close to Reiner at all he'll latch on even harder. You're both his parental figures, although he gets so flustered if anyone mentions it.

He's deadset on inheriting the Armour but if you have the choice of who you can give yours to and you pick him, he's gonna cry.

He doesn't remember a lot about his first shift or the events surrounding it, except the smell of burnt flesh and fire in his arms. If you touch him at all when he immediately comes out of his titan, he'll dissolve into hysterics, crying without knowing why, because your touch reminds him immediately of the memory he's almost forgetting

Fortunately, he does forget

When you finally get to touch him after the amnesia period is over, Falco absolutely melts in your arms. Also immediately cries. Because he does know what this means, has studied this in his books, knows it from Porco's memories. Sobs and wails in your arms, feeling so secure and loved. Because you love him and you care for him. After everything he's been through, he needs this

Hugs you so, so tight every chance he gets, getting red-faced whenever Gabi teases him. Hovers by your side a lot, knowing everything will keep being okay so long as he can feel your warmth.

Always touching you, probably gets a little anxious when you leave him alone but eventually comes around.

For the kiddos out there who are crushing on my son, I raise a counter scenario. Just for you. You're now my child-in-law

Training together!! Yay!!

Your grades will vary, though you're definitely behind Gabi on the roster. Sorry, I do make the rules.

Falco excitedly told you about body heat when he read about it in a book!! You two excitedly try to figure out how you'd feel to each other.

Unfortunately, this is about the time he gets a crush on you. So Falco gets so flustered the next time you mention it to him and he ends up blurting that he hopes he never finds out what temperature you'd feel like to him.

Wants to protect you forever and ever, taking a similar route that he does with Gabi in canon.

You became shifters together! Terrible news!

Except when you're both pulled from the napes of your titans. When you have to ride with Connie, forgetting everything except the press of his hand in yours.

Falco may not remember the meaning behind the warmth but knows that it's good, that he can trust you.

Once his memories come back, avoids you to high heavens because he is so acutely aware of the flipside of this scenario. That you can feel how hot he burns because of his crush. He doesn't even think about what your hot touch means for him

You have to chase him down.

Keeps making excuses until you almost fight him trying to get him to settle.

He's definitely heartbroken if you tell him you only see him as a brother/best friend. Probably gets teary eyed and red-faced but accepts it before running off. He'll stop avoiding you after this.

Gets so red if you tell him you romantically like him too.

After the confession or when he's calmed down from the rejection, he comes back around. He's pretty constant at your side and will hold your hand if you let him, reassured by your warmth.

No matter what happens, at least you have each other.

522 notes · View notes

hanjisungslag · 9 months ago

Note

Headcanons for when aot men get jealous? Maybe seeing reader and someone else spending time together and getting agitated and then dragging them away - ‘Pay attention to me not them.’ sort of vibe.

💢 aot men & jealously

characters included: eren, armin, connie, jean, reiner, bertolt, erwin and levi.

notes: this ask had me floored.

☆ eren jaeger

he caught you and reiner talking to each other AGAIN.

this has happened one too many times and eren finally loses it.

he’d definitely say something like “what about spending time with your boyfriend instead of him, hm?”

very temperamental about the whole thing..

one second he’ll be furious, next he’ll be sad, next he’ll be happy you’re back to spending time with each other

but mostly angry over it.

he storms over and pushes reiner away from you as he comes between the both of you, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing with MY partner?” eren asked threateningly “woah eren we were just—” but before reiner could say anything, eren grabbed your arm and stormed off with you.

☆ armin arlert

you and jean are very close friends

too close, your boyfriend may say.

armin usually lets things slide at first, he doesn’t want to come off as overbearing or jealous

also you and jean are just friends at the end of the day, right?

but one day, you and jean are laughing away as usual and armin asks what’s so funny and you say..

“oh, it’s an inside joke. you wouldn’t get it.”

after you said this, you continued to laugh. but armin had reached his breaking point, he slammed his hands on the dinner table and rose from his seat turning to face you, “y/n. get up.” your smile drops as you also get up from your chair. you two walk out the dinner hall. armin quickly speaks up “pay attention to me, not him.”

☆ connie springer

you and berty boy were spending wayyy too much quality time together.

making you spend less time with your own boyfriend!

connie obviously took this to heart and had to do what a man’s gotta do

aka pull a prank on bert.

every single day for like 2 weeks, connie would do something just to cause him inconvenience.

just like hiding his things right before practice, stealing food off his plate, replacing his sugar with salt, messing up his laundry etc.

but now what was connie going to do with you? after he pulled one of his pranks on bert he saw you HELPING him so not only do you spend all your time with him but now you’re ruining connie’s revenge plan? nope, not happening. he slams bert’s door open not taking any notice that the both of you are trying to talk to him, he just grabs you and pulls you into the hall. “last time i checked, i was your boyfriend. so, stop acting like bert is.”

☆ jean kirstein

there was someone in the survey corps who clearly had a thing for you

but you didn’t seem to notice. supposedly.

anyways, you guys would spend quite a bit of time together especially during expeditions.

jean obviously took offence to this and what does he do?

showboats🗣️🗣️

while on an expedition, you and this guy were chatting away, killing titans, all the usual stuff. but little did you know, from the back, jean was watching all of this happening and he was getting pissed off. his anger built up so much that when it came to killing the titans be whipped out half of them on his own. everyone was super impressed and the girls started complimenting you for having such a strong, brave boyfriend.

he pulls you aside afterwards and says “that was because of you and him, you know? so, you better start paying more attention to me now.”

☆ reiner braun

there was this one guy from garrisons who adored you!

and you thought he was sweet and you’d always try and catch up with him when you could.

which reiner would say was too often.

reiner would definitely intimidate this guy with how huge he is.

it’d be intimidating even reiner wasnt massive because he was just a garrison.

he’d pump his chest out more and wrap his big arms around you in front of him to prove how much bigger and better he was.

and when it came to you, he was so mad. as you stepped away from the garrison guy, he took his arm off of you and grabbed you by the shoulders turning you to face him. “hey. you better stop talking to that fucking whimp. i’m your boyfriend.”

☆ bertolt hoover

you and connie were super close.

you both trained together, love pulling pranks and just bounce off each other so well.

some people sometimes even think you’re a couple..!

but you already have a boyfriend.

bert doesn’t like to speak up about how he feels for a while until something really tips him over the edge.

bert always used to ignore how close you and connie were, he was too shy to say anything in the first place but he also didn’t want to ruin your guys’ relationship by being jealous. that was until someone asked if you and connie were a couple. that was his final straw. he calmly walked over to you but grabbed you with a grip you wouldn’t expect from bertolt. you found yourself outside with him where he looks you dead in the eyes “unless you actually want connie to be your boyfriend, you better start paying more attention to me, y/n.”

☆ levi ackerman

you mostly worked in the offices after a bad injury.

and there was this one librarian who really took a liking to you.

but, you’re already coupled up with mr. ackerman.

levi sees you guys talking all the time. sees that you’re in the library quite a lot even when you don’t need to be.

because of this he delegated menial work to him and even you, when he’s feel mean.

but when he catches you STILL talking while doing the tasks he set for you, he loses it.

you got distracted from your task when your little librarian friend starts discussing this ancient book he discovered the other day and as you were chatting away, you heard the door creak.. you jump out of your skin, trying to return to your task but it was too late. levi had already seen you. he calmly marched towards you and pulls you away to the other end of the library “is that what i said your task was, y/n? come here, i got a better task for you like helping your boyfriend. not this cretin.”

( however at the end of the week when things were all cleared up and you ask him about it he just says “me? jealous? no, i wasn’t.” )

☆ erwin smith

you and mike were working a little too closely lately.

erwin saw the way mike looked at you longingly

at first he thought it was nothing, he wasn’t even jealous!

until mike starts getting more physical

a shoulder brush here, a slight hand touch there

after this, he fully loses it.

erwin side eyes you and mine when he sees his hand gently brush up against yours, it could be pure accident but erwin couldn’t care less. he had gone too far. he marched over tall and mighty and swiftly stole you from mike “i’m the only man who gets to do that to you, you hear me?”

741 notes · View notes

ambrosialdesire · 5 months ago

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.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"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."

155 notes · View notes

jjkeremika · 1 year ago

Text

AoT men favorite places with you

description: AoT men’s favorite place to be intimate with you

pairing: Eren, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Porco, Levi, Erwin, Armin, Zeke, Bertolt // x reader

nsfwww

Eren

• prefers public places, not well hidden, like fingering you under the table or having you suck him off behind the racks at restaurants and shops

• risky, likes the thrill of potentially being caught, swears the adrenaline makes you look and sound sexier

• loves sucking on your neck and leaving hickeys, bites your shoulders enough to leave a visible mark for days

• shushes you while he strokes your hair, tells you that you need to be more quiet when you swallow him whole, that you need to bite your lip when he rocks his hips

Jean

• at home, in the kitchen, while prepping for dinner or while baking desserts

• likes lifting you onto the countertop, kissing and fondling you until his preset timers are going off

• always takes his shirt off before putting the apron on, just in case he spills something on it anyway

• smacks you with a spatula or wooden spoon when you walk by, threatens to do it again when you squeal

• watches you lick the batter off your finger with dilated pupils and starts palming his erection through the apron, staring at your lips the whole time

Connie

• well if it wasn’t the arcade, it wasn’t anywhere but home

• hes winning prizes and tickets at every game, smiling and handing you the gifts to keep, smacking your ass and kissing your cheek intermittently

• sometimes asks you to blow on his hands before ski-ball or air-hockey for good luck

• reminds you of that when he asks you to blow on his cock later, behind the pac-man operator, when he’s unzipping his jeans and you’re dropping to your knees

• sometimes will push up against you from behind, pushing your hips into the game as you play, as he teaches you

Reiner

• rents cabins so you two can be conpletely alone because he loves to hear you scream, and doesn’t want a soul to hear or see you (only him)

• likes you on your hands and knees, his hand roughly pulling your hair

• situates you so both of you are facing the wide window, overlooking the natural scenery as his hips slap against yours

• smirks at you in the reflection in the window, blows kisses when you both make eye contact in it

Porco

• could always find him hanging out under the bleachers, and he greets you with open arms and a big kiss each time

• wraps his jacket around you when he takes your shirt off; puts your shirt over his backpack so it doesn’t touch the ground

• holds you so close and so tight, protects your head with his hand if you two get too close to the metal benches

• loves the rattle of the bleachers when you grab onto the metal bars or benches as he fucks into you from behind

Levi

• hates doing it in bathrooms and kitchens

• prefers taking you to expensive hotels with clean sheets and fluffy towels, usually rents a room with two large beds so you can rest and relax on spotless sheets

• cleaning up is his favorite part, lapping up your streams of fluid from your thighs like a parched dog

• loves shoving his cock down your throat when he’s about to orgasm, loves feeling and watching you swallow his cum, enjoying everything more thoroughly with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to dirty a towel

Erwin

• back of the car, like you’re both hormone-crazed teenagers who can’t keep their hands off each other

• has a huge car, so sprawling you out into any position isn’t an obstacle

• always wraps his tie around his wrist, dangling it slightly, and sometimes sharply slaps it against your ass

• plays music through the speakers every time, always drives to the ocean or the lake

• likes the visual of you beneath him, his cock pushed between your breasts

Armin

• likes to be in private, at home BUT the back room at the public library comes quite close

• works there part time, so acquiring the room was easy, and there was something about seeing you amongst unbound books that evoked something inexplicable within him

• loves when you bend over him like an open book, especially when you’re asking him to lick you out while you suck him off

• always reminds you to be quiet when he’s louder than you are

Zeke

• likes to take you to plays and musicals and theaters and operas, “to enjoy the sounds and symphonies of art,” he’d say

• his hand is crawling up your thigh before intermission, tracing the tights pattern up your skirt

• hides the playwright over your lap so those in neighboring seats can’t gawk (but he also kind of likes it when they do)

• rushes you to the bathroom during intermission, hiking up your skirt and ripping a hole in the crotch of your tights

Bertolt

• plays basketball, so meeting him in the locker room after practice is the routine

• explores different positions on the benches and in the showers with you, bending you over it or holding you up

• loves holding your butt cheeks like two globes, moaning every time he compares his hand and dick sizes to the size of your ass

• blushes when he sees you at his games because he knows what will happen later in the locker room, what you’ve both practiced for

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vampcubus · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: it’s my love language ok. just needed to get this out of my system. also no gifs cus i'm sleepy...

⋆ ࣪.❤︎ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒!┊eren, levi, connie, reiner, and bertholdt.

⋆ ࣪.❤︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!┊mostly sfw but suggestive hehe.

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

— HE UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT, down to tussle anytime I promise you. Just make sure you’re ready for the smoke because he will not be going easy on you, he wants to WIN.

— The most likely to get a little too rough with it and one or both of you gets genuinely hurt 💀

— Something about play fighting flicks a switch in his brain and makes him feel like a kid again. Can’t help but laugh because hey this is so much fun.

— Eren is actually more likely to initiate and gets upset if you’re not as into it as him like, “Babe fight back :(((“

— Best way to win against him if you aren’t as physically able is to distract him! Nip at his ear, dig your fingers into his side to tickle him, press a kiss to his neck as you lunge for him. Makes him short circuit, all of a sudden he doesn’t wanna fight anymore 😳

— Henceforth why 9/10 times your roughhousing turns into you making out or something else.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

— Finds it annoying, naturally. But if you pester him enough he’ll give in and indulge you. He expects you to get bored after pinning you several times, but when you keep coming back for more he gets really into it. All of a sudden his pupils are all big and he’s fighting more enthusiastically.

— Play fighting brings out his inner child tbh. I doubt you can overpower his insane ackerman strength, but you can outmaneuver him if you really try. The look on his face when you finally flip him onto his back is worth the struggle. Grey eyes wide and the slightest of blushes adorning his pale cheeks.

“Ha! I finally got you!” you pant triumphantly, practically heaving from the effort it took to pin him.

“Yeah you got me. Now get off, you’re heavy.” he can’t even look at you, the image of you atop him is doing things to him he isn’t ready to confront.

— Learns to love roughhousing with you in time. It’s a nice way to burn off any restlessness before you wind down for bed.

— Don’t expect to win very often, and if you do give him plenty of kisses to soften the blow. He’s incredibly ticklish and you can abuse this fatal flaw to get the upper hand, he gets all squirmy and is more focused on wiggling away than fighting you between the wheezes being forced out of him.

— Sometimes he’s simply too exhausted to play to which you can usually tell and wrap him up in your arms to cuddle instead.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

— LOVES TO PLAY FIGHT!! In fact he’s usually the one that initiates! Hope you’re watching your six cus he could attack at any time, you’ll just be minding your own business and suddenly he’s pouncing on you from behind.

— Beware!! He does not play fair! Will pull out all the stops: tickling, smooching, pinching, BITING. He’s feral istg 😭 Pulls you back by the shirt when you scramble away, rests his whole weight on you to keep you immobile, will even pretend like you hurt him to get you to lower your guard so he can strike back.

“Connie ow! Did you just??? Did you just bite me?!”

“You didn’t say it was against the rules 🤨”

— Connie is overall a very affectionate partner, and I feel like he interprets your desire to roughhouse as wanting to be close to him. Another way to say “I love you and want to be around you.”

— It’s all too easy to get distracted by his grinning lips while you’re fighting for the upper hand, so there will be many kisses exchanged in between. And more often than not you forget about fighting all together, too busy sharing spit to care about throwing the other around.

𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

— His hearts in the right place… maybe a bit too much so because he can’t for the life of him loosen up enough to actually put up much of a fight against you. He’s too afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you for real and that wouldn’t be any fun at all :(((

— has too much anxiety to really enjoy it at first, but after a few rounds of you looking a little too smug? Talking all that smack? Well now he’s got to challenge you, just to see what you look like when you’ve been beat. He expects you to pout after he’s successfully trapped you beneath his body, but you can’t stop giggling because what you wanted from the beginning.

— Learns to love it because you get so into it, full on tackling him to the ground when he lets his guard down. He just likes to see you happy tbh, and if a little roughhousing is what makes you smile that big you can bet he’ll indulge you whenever you want.

— Likes it especially when you get Gabi in on it and coordinate combo sneak attacks when he’s none the wiser. The two most important people in his life giggling and squealing as he tosses them around? He can die happy.

𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

— He’s not the best at it, he mostly pretends to fight back while you maneuver him into various joint holds. He’s a gentle giant really, he’ll just let you pin him and look up at you with sleepy eyes as you pout because he’s not really trying.

— Doesn’t help that he very much likes to be pinned down by you and oftentimes his body reacts to you, turning your one-sided play fight into something less wholesome.

— Falls asleep on you a lot because you’re pressed so close, and you’re so soft and warm and… snore. You can tell when he’s had enough of your wrestling because he just rests his whole weight on you so you can’t move (the only time he ever really wins) you can’t help but sigh and accept defeat, opting to run your fingers through his hair while he snuggles into your chest instead.

— probably fights you more in his goddamn sleep than awake with all that moving around he does 💀

“You bored yet?” he chuckles as you’re perched on his thighs, hands barely pushing back against his.

“You’re no fun, Bertie,” you sigh, leaning forward til you fall on top of him. His arms wrap around you immediately, large hands rubbing soothing circles into your back as you relax against him.

“Sorry, I just get all soft around you I guess. I don’t even think of defending myself.” he yawns, eyelids drooping as your comforting body weight starts to lull him to sleep. “Not like I’d win anyways, you’re stronger than me.”

“Not trueeeee, you just won’t try. But it’s ok, I like seeing you beneath me.”

He chokes at that, suddenly wide awake.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #bertholdt hoover x reader #bertholdt x reader #bertolt hoover x reader #aot x reader #aot headcanons

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firefly--bright · 3 months ago

Text

knowing. (1)

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern a.u.

summary ; to love someone is to know someone, fully, wholly, and jean fulfills this, wholly, knowingly.

warnings ; (not in this part but) eventual smut (this part is sfw!!), descriptions of religion as a concept

a/n ; uhhh smut in the next part (which is already written. hidden for now.) and it was my first time writing that and . well. you'll be the judge of if it's good or not but if it's BAD dw I'm never writing smut again. I'm gonna delete my account after that actually. thanks.

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @ppushable , @raazberry , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana .

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿

centre tile art cred to @bpepper_cn on instagram :)

✿

jeans mother always told him that love will come with time and patience. when he complained to her about loving too much, she assured him that one day, he'd be loved the same. he has to have the courage and time to keep doing it. he rolled his eyes then. but now he's getting ready for a new years eve party, an invite extended to him through eren by Connie. he raked his hand through his hair, looking at his closet, deciding on what to wear, with you on FaceTime, propped up on his dresser.

so why was it that he'd remember his mother's words now, out of all times? why was it that his mother's assurances rung out in his ears after he laughed at a comment you made about his closet?

or maybe he knows why. he just hates to address it. instead, he focuses on your voice like he always has.

"maybe if you had less clothes, this would be an easier decision." you say, your voice muffled by something you're eating. jean rolls his eyes and you can barely see it. from where you're set up, you can only see his waist, the view ending just above mid-thigh length from the bottom and cutting off at his neck on the top. you can see the tips of his hair and parts of his growing scruff and grey sweatpants. he knows this, but he rolls his eyes anyway and he knows that you know he's making that face.

"you're a hypocrite." he says, lightly scratching his cheek. he reminds himself to shave before leaving.

in all honesty, jean doesn't do this. he's always been the type of person to have his outfit picked out the night before, ever since he was a kid – the need to be too prepared just so he has a plan of action; options he could employ. but he was rethinking everything today, after seeing what you were planning to wear and how he wanted to match with you without making it too obvious.

Why? He doesn’t know. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s too much of a coward to admit it.

he remembers the first time he did that accidentally. he matched what he was wearing with you and you greeted him with a giddy smile and your finger pointin0g to him and then yourself and he knew what you were saying without you even having said it.

he remembers how your smile made him reluctantly smile as well, even if he spilled ink on the maroon crewneck, and you made fun of him for it. he rolled his eyes but didn't have the heart to throw the cloth out. it was still there, in his line of sight, and he smiled to himself after catching a glimpse of it. he hears you hum in thought.

"what about that vest you have? the dark green one?" you ask. his eyes light up and he hums right back, appreciatively.

rummaging through his closet, he pulls out the knitted vest, holding it up to his chest. he nods to himself.

this could work. your outfit was the same shade, and if he layered it right-

"see! it looks perfect. you're overthinking too much, you'd look great." you say. he's glad you can't see his face and how flushed it was, the tips of his ears and nose warming with comfort and madness.

he clears his throat, muttering a small, "thanks" to you. you smiled brightly. he refused to look at the screen, not admitting what your actions did to him.

half an hour later, the call finally ended. he cut it unwillingly when you complained about there not being enough time to get ready. he agreed but didn't do anything about it for another ten minutes, letting you go off on a tangent that led to another tangent. he listened while laying on his bed, playing with the hair that lay on his forehead unconsciously. you talked with a smile on his face and he swore the brightness on his screen increased, he swore that you had swallowed sunlight when you were young, making everything you said meaningful. or maybe he was the only one who found meaning in them, soaking into your words like a plant waiting to grow.

or maybe he was the moon, shining off of your light. maybe he was meant to love you like this; with his love known but afar, seen but untouched.

that was the only way to explain it. the only way he could put his words into any fruition, the only way he could make it his, because this feeling wasn't his. he was used to loving people without them ever realising it. he was used to his love being messy and thrown around without any care, he was used to his love being everyone but his. but for the first time it was here, with him, in his hands that were reaching out to yours.

always reaching out to yours. it was the closest he’d felt to the reaching the stars. the world around him fell apart and it was just him and his love and you, afloat with hands reaching out to the others. always. Or maybe it was the fact that this was the only way he could describe it in a way that made sense. Maybe it was the fact that all other ways would be too plain, too simple. Maybe relating what he felt for you to something as important and all-consuming and divine as the stars he sought out in the city was the only way he could feel it be as important as it felt.

he got in the car with Marco at the back, waiting outside your dorm to pick you and sasha up, after which it would be Connie's turn. everyone had their designated seats - Marco in the middle of sasha and Connie because their presence together was something jean’s extensively loved car was not equipped to handle. and then you, sitting next to jean in the passenger seat with jean driving, and Connie complains about how you're allowed to choose the music but he isn't, and sasha complains how youre allowed to eat in Jean's car but she isn't. marco doesn't complain, but he does comment about the extra privileges given to you just because you "sit shotgun" with a nudge to Jean's ribs. jean rolls his eyes and says it nothing, tells Marco to shut up. Maybe he doesn’t want to address it.

he doesn't. even now, as you take your rightful seat next to jean, flashing him a smile, Marco notes how he'll annoy jean about his eyes wandering to you, how his mouth opens and closes, no doubt thinking of some compliment to give about how you look tonight. but jean ends up saying nothing, as always, and Marco notes it down to tease him for it later. it's a cycle; perpetual and routine but the routine provided comfort. it was predictable and it was comfortable because they were people he cared about. there was you, who was picking out 'the perfect song' (that only Marco would end up actually listening to) with a cheeky smile in the passenger seat. there was jean, driving, responding to Connie's jabs at how he's never let Connie play the music before and then there was sasha, who was rambling to you (Marco didn't know how you could possibly even pay attention to her and respond to her with Connie and Jean's back and forth, but you did it anyway) about that blonde guy she met at the diner the other day, and you gave her notes on how she should respond to his texts when she showed her screen to you with a panicked expression. marco smiled widely, crossing one foot under the other, getting comfortable in his seat. he was glad he met you clowns. jean glanced at him through the rearview with a knowing look. jean knew him long enough to know what he was thinking about with a small smile on his face.

"well then you shouldn't have lived so far away." jean mutters, his argument with connie pulling his focus back to the moment.

"what does that have anything to do with this?" Connie asks, grabbing the back of jean's seat.

"hey! careful with that, that costed more money than-"

"I'll lick the goddamn thing if you don't tell me what it meant." Connie said, removing his hand from the seat and folding them on his chest.

“yeah? Do it, you shameless cu-“

"and then, he said... wait let me scroll up. he's so cute," sasha says, looking at her phone in her hands, scrolling through her messages with niccolo. marco stole a glance at her phone. "oh! there it is!" she says, showing the phone to marco before passing it on to you.

"you should go for it sash. shoot your shot," Marco said, looking at sasha's flushed face under the dim passing of the streetlights outside. she looked good today, sparkly eyeshadow highlighting the browns of her eyes, a baby blue dress and pearl accessories to go with it. you took a while reading the texts, scrolling down to the current chat where sasha had typed out, 'see you there!!! I'm wearing blue! :)'

"oh my god, sash, this is adorable. i agree with mar, you should go for it." you say, and sasha takes comfort in the nicknames you used for her and marco. Predictable of you to use, really. It was only a shorter version of their names, nothing creative, but it felt comfortable when you said it. It felt more like it was yours, that they were yours to make short and say without hesitation.

"really? i mean, I am sorta old fashioned in a way. i want him to ask me first," sasha says, sighing and leaning on Marco's shoulder. "but I do also want to speed up the process." she says. you hum. marco puts his head on top of Sasha's and she thinks, amongst many other things, how glad she is about the fact that you're here. that she met you and marco and jean this year and about how she had always dreamed of friends that felt like family like in the T.V. shows she used to watch, sitcoms with their own openings and closings, inside jokes that kept repeating until it became a comfortable thrum of predictable but bright laughter.

"i think you should go for it first. he seems like the guy who'd bring you flowers and stuff. besides, I think he really really likes you. I mean, the way he looks at you, sash-" you start, putting a hand over your chest. jean glances at you not so discreetly while waiting at a stoplight.

your face is lit up under the usual red stop light; an everyday feature, something jean has come across uncountable times, but jean looks at you like you've been casted in the sun and sasha blinks. if that's the way nicolo looks at her then she may have a chance.

"alright. I'll go for it." she says with resolve, clapping her hands together. you smile back at her, looking at marco, neck straining with effort, stretching to look over your shoulder so your eyes could meet his. "do you like this song?" you ask. marco smiles and nods - a cycle. Predictable. Comfort.

the five of you reach yeager's house in about ten minutes of the same cycle, the same perpetuality. jean opens the door for you, and marco stretches as he gets out, wringing his hands after being cramped. sasha adjusted her dress. Connie exits last, closing the door loudly.

"don't close the door that hard, dumbass." jean says, waving a hand through his hair, crouching down to look at the side mirror to get his hair just how he liked it. sasha asks you if her lipstick is okay and you tell her she looks perfect and has nothing to worry about, holding her cheeks in your hands. she smiles into them, giving you a hug that leads jean to stabilize you, abandoning his view in the mirror in favour of placing his hand near your shoulders gently.

his hands don't leave that place until youre inside the house and you have to pretend it doesn't affect you. it shouldn't. it really shouldnt send a large shiver down your spine, the touch making your bones relax and melt and be remade again. you wish he did that more often - let his hand sink into your skin. You wish he made it a routine, a second nature. Muscle memory. Your tendons would shape around his, and the comfort of the routine wouldn’t make it any less important. let his body meld against your own until it was one entity, floating and untethered but still grounded on earth with the same clay you were made from, same strings you were attached to.

"you guys! over here!" Reiner's voice booms out as he waves his hands over his head so the four of you could see.

you were soon joined by historia, ymir, bertolt, reiner and annie. you didn't do well at parties; a fact jean knew far too well, but you talked to the group you knew well, laughing and smiling, trying. everyone's finals had ended, and Reiner boasted about how well bertolt did - even if they hadn't released the results, he knew that Bert did well, patting a hand on his back as Bert smiled shyly. historia and Ymir were talking to sasha and Connie, marco struck up a conversation with Bert, and you and jean were talking to Reiner but jean wasn't really paying attention to it because he was too busy looking at you. A routine.

it was unusual, he thought, how quickly you had grown into his company and vice versa. but you did, somehow. you claimed everything to be yours without you even touching it. it was unusual how quickly he grew comfortable into this non-existent touch, more importantly how he knew it was there, how he quickly made it his rightful home because it would be too formal to call it sacred. sacred would mean he'd have to abandon and pay for his sins. sacred would mean he'd have to join his hands and beg for forgiveness. sacred would mean rules and regulations - a book he'd have to keep reading until he understood it, until the verses poured from the tip of his tongue as a reminder of his guilt. Loving you was divinity as a whole because it was the only word that could describe how it felt, how you felt, but you were far from it. Your divinity was your humanity, jean thought, because that was the only sin he could commit to memory.

but no, you weren't a place of worship that upheld it's sanctity. you were holy the way his home was - the way he didn't have to beg or pray or pay for his crimes, but the way where he could remove his jacket and hang it up next to yours. you were holy in the way where he didn't have to read you because of shame or guilt but because he wanted to, because there wasnt compulsion in your love. you were holy in the way he found god under his blankets when he was a child; shining a torch light on his sketchbook and drawing a nameless face while thunder roared outside.

his heart settles back into his chest, not realising it hadn’t been his for a long time. you were holy. not because you were pristine and untouched and well-kept, but because you needed to be touched, because you needed to be held and kept in the palm of his hand.

he'd do it. he'd hold you. he'd love you as a sacred home that was meant to be lived in even as you do as you were doing now, your hand holding a cup and fingers tapping the rim of it to the beat of the song, nodding along to reiner's story, he'd do it. he was doing it - all the loving and praying. not praying for you, but praying to you without the guilt and shame and begging.

you were not a god but jean would see you in every one. jean would find you everywhere. he would look at the sun and think of your smile and he'd feel the breeze in his hair and think of your hands. you were not god because you weren't and couldn't be as cruel as him but jean loves you like you are one - like you're the one that gave art it's meaning, like you're the one that followed him everywhere he went, that you're the one that could ever have the courage to look him in his eyes and forgive him even if he didn't ask for it, even if he didn't think he deserved it.

you weren't god but he says your name like worship. He looks at you like home.

"i think there needs to be better music," Reiner says, and you nod readily. Connie joins in the conversation, "I think they need to pass it to me." jean rolls his eyes, and you laugh, agreeing with Connie, egging him on.

more people arrived as the night went on, some of whom you knew the names of. it was a mix of people - a bunch of zeke's friends and a mix of eren's. friends in a loose sense – classmates and acquaintances of the classmates and their coworkers, making the large house seem smaller than it had when it was just you guys on the weekends playing with an abandoned ouji board (jean and eren tried to shit talk each other but ended being the most scared out of all of you. jean’s shriek still echoed through the basement when connie tapped on his shoulder in the dark). you were glad you at least knew the way through it as you lead sasha by the hand to the kitchen, deciding to give her a pep talk there.

the plan you and Connie made was simple - you'd lead sasha to the kitchen under the guise of giving her some encouragements, and Connie would lead niccolo to the kitchen as well, claiming that they could really use him there, even though the area was mostly empty. it wasn't an actual 'plan' – nothing you and connie concocted ever was - more of just a way to speed things along. Connie had brought it up the night before and you had readily agreed before putting a pack of gum in the shopping cart he was wheeling.

(grocery shopping with Connie had become a routine for the two of you. it started first as a way of getting Connie's life together but then spiralled into buying dumb snacks that you knew sasha would eat anyway. The last one she had tried was butter chicken jerk beef, something you had to spit out immediately but something sasha gobbled up in flat 6 minutes).

the kitchen was, thankfully, away from most of the crowd. the music still penetrated through the walls and the vibrations were still present on the floor, but there wasn't anyone in here, preferring the loudness of a stereotypical party to the quiet of a corner, finding their spots either outside or on the lawn or in the basement to dance. you held Sasha's hand as you turned to her, rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

“youre beautiful.” You tell her. She nods, understanding that it’s a command and not a compliment, a beckon for her to believe the truth as it is. “and I know he’s important to you, and I know you’re afraid of loosing him, but that’s why you should go for it.” You say, fixing the top of her hair that had gotten a little frizzy because of the heat in the house. “he’d be the dumbest person alive if he rejects you. I’d egg his car, but that’d be a waste of eggs.” That gets a small laugh from her. You’re glad that the noise from the outside isn’t loud enough to be important because you can hear her laugh. That becomes more important than any music with any amount of meaning.

"thank you. im just...really scared. i just haven't, I dunno, put myself 'out there' for a long time. especially since he's a good friend too. i mean you get it, right? with you and je-"

"i know what you're saying." you interrupt gently before she has a chance to complete her sentence, "I wish there was an easier way out, too. But, I mean, again, its scary because its important. And it’ll be even more important once you go through it." You say, unsure of what exactly your mouth is spewing out.

you're not good at this. you wonder what drove Connie to tell you, of all people, to give sasha advice on a topic that you also had barely enough experience with.

"just...rip the band-aid off. then you won't have to worry about it anymore. you won't have to have this wall with him, and if everything goes well - which I know it will - this can turn into something beautiful. just these couple minutes. and then it'll be done and over with." you say, hoping it does the job as well as you think it should. Verbal words were never your forte – you only hoped your actions could provide enough proof of your love than your flimsy words could, have more of a grip and tangibility than your voice.

she smiles and squeezes your hands in hers, and you smile in relief. "you're right. ripping the band-aid off. mhm." she says, nodding once in approval, before bringing you into her warm embrace. you happily obliged and hummed - sasha's hugs had a way of making your unsaid love feel heard. (you found that out after a long day of working at the café where an older customer had screamed at you until his head turned red, all for accidentally getting his order wrong. the start of your day was just as crappy as his yelling, everything had gone wrong since the moment you woke up. but when sasha took one look at your tired expression and mumbled hellos, she wasted no time in wrapping you up in her hug and you were sure it cured you, healing all the wounds that had been there prior to that day. if you could bottle up her hugs you were sure that it'd sell as an antidote for any poison, the gentle and consistent strength of her arms around you could hold the sky up better than Atlas could, holding your world up on her pinkie finger without breaking so much as a sweat).

"thank you," she muttered softly, pulling away. you didn't have a chance to reply before connie and niccolo entered the room, and connie sent you a not-so-discreet wink with two thumbs up, sealing the business deal.

you smiled back at sasha, squeezing her hand twice before walking up to Connie. "we'll leave the two of you alone!"

"use protec-" Connie's voice was cut off by your hand on his mouth, muffling it and pulling him out the kitchen. “don’t ruin it, man.” You tell him under your breath with a hopeful gleam on your face.

removing your hand just as you stepped out, connie turned to you with just as much of a bright smile on his face, holding his hand up for a high five.

you replied with a smile of you own, slapping your hand against his, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

"we did it!" he exclaims. you laugh, nodding, the slight amount of alcohol you had buzzing in your head; just how you liked it. Everything felt joyful – the faces and smiles unblurred, important, but words slurred. he continues, "you know what I just realised?" he asks, and he has to shout over the music to be heard, even if it wasn’t too much of a strain for him. Connie thrived in parties, being used to the shouting and the continuous laughter and bad decisions that led to even worse hangovers. you don't say anything, tilting your head and furrowing your brows instead., allowing him to continue. "this was our last mess-around of the year!" he shouts, leaning closer to your ear. You can smell the boozed punch on his clothes.

“oh my god, it is!” you say, “my favourite one was when we made the lights go out for the entire building.” You say, your voice reaching his ears only barely over the music. He nods with a big smile. Connie Springer in his natural element – going over shitty ideas with a drink in his hand, not his first and definitely not his last either. “holy shit, dude, I forgot about that!”

“im pretty sure what we did was illegal-“

“we’ve done more illegal shit-“ “shoplifting a pack of condoms isn’t the same as plugging the wrong wire into the wrong hole-“ “I CAN FIND THE HOLE.” He cuts you off, making you burst out laughing. Its routine – he says something particularly stupid, you say something worse, and he would say something to top it off. (the last time the pattern occurred was this morning – he spilled his mug of coffee on the kitchen counter as well as his pants, you had joked about how he kept “getting wet” to which he says “I always am.” Jean scoffed from across the room)

“no you cant, connie.” The familiar voice yells out to the two of you from the end of the wide, poorly-lit hallway. Jean walked towards you with what seemed to be his first drink of the night, and the dim overhead light made his hair shine like a halo on his temples. He tips his glass towards you with a nod and raised eyebrows, worldlessly asking if you’d like one. You shook your head. Connie continued, rolling his eyes. “not what your mom said last night.”

“my mother doesn’t even know you exist.” “that’s not what it looked like last nig-“

“im going to go out. To dance.” You say, avoiding another bad excuse of a brawl. If it was anything like the countless times you’d witnessed before, jean and connie would end up failing their arms at eachother; nothing short of just a catfight.

Jean turns towards you, his feet pointing to yours, “dance?” he asks, his voice only heard because you were standing so close to him. You nod once, knowing that you probably weren’t going to step outside so soon, knowing you preferred more quiet rather than the loud, crammed bodies in the basement or front of the house. Jean nods once too, knowing what you’d want, knowing what this is, knowing what your voice meant even if he can’t hear you well.

Connie shrugs, “im gonna go to the basement. Find the love of my life tonight.” He says, turning around with a smirk as you shout to him, “use protection!” mimicking his cut-off statement from before.

Jean shakes his head with a smile that only you got to see. the house was big enough to have two kitchens – a smaller one that was occupied by sasha and niccolo, and a bigger, more known one that was occupied by barely recognizable faces and loud voices. This hallway, although used many times by you and your friends, seemed more sacred now that jean was infront of you, latching onto every blink of his eyes, every sip of his drink, every tone of his voice. You liked having the intel – the power, really – of knowing him so wholly. Knowing that he knew what you meant, knowing what you did and didn’t mean to say and knowing exactly what he was feeling even under the dim, warm light of this hallway. It didn’t deserve to be called just a hallway. It felt more like a temple, more like the road that led to something twice more beautiful, more like the process you were told to trust.

“so,” he says, and you note how unaffected his voice is by the scarce alcohol he had. Reaching out, you take his previous invitation now that its just him, holding his cup and stealing a small sip. Jean tries not to think about why an even an indirect indication of a kiss can make his heart flip out into the open world and he wonders even more if you can see it, his heart, bare open on the carpeted floor of the hallway, ready to be treated however you’d choose to treat it. He wonders if you know its waiting for you, and he wonders even more about if this is what is never told to people about love. About how its known that you know him, that his heart – more soft than he’d like it to be – was for you to hold but more that he trusted you to keep it well. He knew you more than enough to know exactly how you’d treat his pulse. Maybe that was what the movies and t.v shows failed to tell him, that maybe loving someone meant knowing that they wouldn’t willingly hurt you. or maybe it was just him. Maybe it was just you.

“so,” you say, handing his glass back to him. “roof?” you ask, tilting your head towards the end of the hallway, leading him to an escape from this sanctuary, but really, everything would be a sanctuary with you. so he agreed, taking his cup and then your hand, leading you up the stairs, your hand clamped into his, feeling the folds of his palm under your own. You wondered if he knew that the wrinkles on your hand described everything you knew about your unheard future, and you wondered if he knew you were trusting him with it. You wondered if he knew it was only his to hold.

Maybe he did. His thumb circles the back of your hand, drawing conclusions to questions he was too afraid to ask out loud, knowing that the answers only lay with you. the rooftop was also a routine – visited countless times by the whole group after the basement got too stuffy to handle. The lawn would be too predictable, eren would say, and led everyone to the extra guest room on the last floor of the house (it was a mansion, really, you remembered thinking, because what kind of a house had a spacious basement and three whole floors? You remembered also knowing why eren preferred to spend nights at mikasa's much smaller, shared apartment than this solitary building with nothing but empty halls and stairways, quiet bedrooms that were almost never occupied). The roof wasn’t built to have people on it, presenting to be slanted and kind of a risky ordeal to climb up to it through the window of the bedroom, but it was worth it because the air would no longer be filled with the now comfortable smoke but would remind you of how wide everything felt, about how the watchful but drowsy eyes of your friends provided and endless amount of comfort against the cold nights.

jean opened the window of the bedroom, exposing you to the forgotten thought of how cold the air was, how still but lively everything felt. The music was still heard, but there were barely any people in the lawn below you since the back of the house always went untouched, the grass growing wildly – a stark contrast to how the front yard looked. The window was large enough for jean to fit through, and you held his cup as he climbed out of it.

His shirt rode up a bit as he climbed out, his arms flexing with the effort to pull himself onto the roof. This part was a routine. A dance, well-choreographed and practiced to the point of it being muscle memory, his hand reached down just as you sat on the ledge of the window, handing him his cup and then your own hand. Jean pulled you up with ease, holding your shoulders as you adjusted yourself on the slanted platform, breathing comfortably right beside him because that’s the only way you could breathe when he was around.

You sat with your legs on top of the other, and jean prefers to lay down right beside you just as he had countless times before, admiring how the side of your face looked because he knew he was too much of a coward to look at you fully without feeling everything he had tried not to feel before. Your weight rested on your hands behind you, and you looked at the sky, as the clouds rolled in to cover the moon momentarily before moving, seeing something new. Jean looked at your face, gauging the light on your face to know if the moon was visible or not, admiring how your eyes shone against the soft glow more than he’d ever appreciate the moon.

“what a year.” You said, the statement enveloping jean as your voice carried out to him softly, wholly. This was how he knew you. how he wanted to know you, how you were, your presence wasn’t a symbol of what could be or what was, not a reminder of what he could be, but more of the present tense. Love had always been something jean viewed as something he should be better for, something he should improve for, unknowing of how this was the feeling he should’ve been looking for all alone. Or maybe the fact that he wasn’t even looking for it made it even more beautiful – the fact that love was how you found him in the present. How you sat beside him, patiently, knowingly, always there. Its been a whole year of you being friends, of jean finding more things to appreciate, to love a little freely. His hand rested on his chest, and you rested just as he did. Rested, because that was what he made you do, no longer running around for some better version of yourself that you wouldn’t find. No, you were here, present, whole, with your muscles as relaxed as they could be without the influence of anything but him.

He hummed. You didn’t dare look at his face, knowing you were too much of a coward to look at everything you wanted to tell him, the silence stretching beyond the space you two shared. You wondered if he knew what you wanted to say, but you decided to take the risk. Break the comfortability, take a step against the routine.

With your heart beating at a slower rate than you thought it should in your chest, you spelled it out for him. “I didn’t… think I’d be here. With people I care about and who I know care about me.” You said. Jean breathes in and out, his hand covering his heart that was already safe with your own, listening, knowing.

“thank you.” you say. “youre important to me. Thank you for seeing me as important to you, too.”

The same silence stretches before you again, but unlike other times, you don’t have to wonder if you said the wrong thing, because it was an important thing to be said. Sacred, to you, more like the scriptures that told you how live, what was right and how to not do wrong.

Loving him was right. Knowing him was right.

He sits up. His shoulders brush yours as he does and then he says your name like you belong there. You swear you do, because you’ve never really fully been present but he says your name like you do, like you are. He says your name as if you’ve always been his to say, always been his to become. “youre so much more than that.” He says, “youre so much more than just important to me.”

You could stay here forever, you think. His voice is everywhere, colouring every atom with himself, and you can finally find the courage to look at him. His face shines, his cheekbones highlighted by the moon and you swear its made for him. The too-important, all-knowing satellite shines just for him, his eyes shine, watery and beautiful. The browns look a little greyer under the night, safe and tucked away for something less important, a small speck of white in his pupils, reflecting the light form above, preferring you over the wholeness of the moon. Theres no breeze and you barely notice the winter cold because of him, the warmth in his gaze holding you, wrapping itself around you long enough to make it known. It already was known.

He continues. In his head, he’s counting everything that makes you beautiful but loses count, loses track with you infront of him, giving him everything that was already his. “youre…. Youre you. I mean, everywhere I go, everything I do, I think about you because I know what you’d think. I know what you’d say, and everything becomes so much more meaningful. I don’t know how I can even simplify it or, I mean, I don’t know how to say it,” he does have to, you think, but he says it anyway. “I just… this feels more than anything ive been feeling. You feel right. I love – I love you. everything feels much more than what it is ever since ive met you, since ive known you. I… I don’t even know if love begins to cover it, honestly, but you know-“

“I do.” You say in a breath that youre so afraid to take because that would mean that everything he was saying was real. but he makes you braver than you thought you’d be, and so you inhale. Exhale. Youre you. he’s always seen you as such, and not as a perfect version of you that you’d always wanted to become.

“I know.” You say, “you’re in everything I’ve done. Everything I continue to do. Jean, i…I’ve always wanted to be, like, better than what I was. Better than I could ever be, but for the first time I think, because of you, I don’t need to be. Everything I have is yours. Everything I want is yours. i mean, its not…complicated, really, its simple and I love you. so much.” You complete, your words soft and quiet and that’s how jean knows they’re yours.

the string tying him together snaps in half, an inevitable conclusion to the long drawn-out, impossibly divine moment and he finds his hand meeting yours again, resting on top of yours, and he knows youre not god because he feels the reciprocal of his unending service because your hands turn upwards to his, interlocking your fingers, engulfing them in his. It feels predictable, comfort, routine even if you hadn’t done it before, even if you’d have the chance to do it countless times again.

And he knows youre not god because he’s never been close to the concept of one like this before, face to face, noses touching, the only thing he can think about is how your lips look, how his hand his travelling up to your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear so it doesn’t bother you. he knows youre not god because loving you is the closest hes ever been to himself, to everything that ties him to his existence. All meaning, all importance, all routine and all comfortability lies with you, he thinks, your breaths mingling together, both an answer and a question, and jean closes any gaps that had been left in the distance between you two, placing his lips on yours, slowly, wholly.

Everything happens. Universes are created, ended, made again, you shift closer to him if that was even possible, letting yourself melt into him because his hands are the only ones capable enough to build you all over again, your hands tangling themselves in their hair like its second nature, muscle memory, routine, comfortability. Your heart beats contently in your chest for the first time in a while, and the moon witnesses it all, shining softly. Your hand traces down to the left side of his chest where his own heart beats for you, and he pulls away for only a second to breathe before his lips are on yours again, half of his being in him and the other half in yours, your legs laying on top on his. Your hands caresses his heart, gripping his green vest, wishing to take it off so you could hear it louder than your own pulse. But youre sure you can hear it, because it sounds the same as yours, because its been with you this whole time. His hair tickles your forehead and you smile because it feels right.

You feel like yourself and jean had never felt the outcome of his love so tenfold before.

✿

part 2 >

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #jean kirschtein #marco bodt #connie springer #sasha braus #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #ymir #historia reiss

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levithestripper · 3 months ago

Text

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Eren Yeager

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love me,” you tease, giggling.

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

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

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

— Armin Arlert

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Jean Kirstein

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not my fault you fell for it!”

Jean huffs. “Will you let me up now?”

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

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

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

— Marco Bodt

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

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

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

“How soon until you guys finish?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Connie Springer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I don’t want to? What then?”

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

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

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

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

— Bertolt Hoover

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Porco Galliard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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luvbugs-blog · 2 years ago

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one bed? - featuring the aot boys

today we have: jean, bertholdt, and reiner

in which: there's only one bed? lmao have fun! note that in reiner's part, you are a warrior that escaped back to marley with reiner after the shiganshina arc.

warnings: none. i have extreme paranoia when it comes to me writing smut, so you will not see some from me until i get better (i am literally touch-starved, so i feel like anything i write will be cringe)!

author's note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know what to write next. i'm literally out of ideas. either in the comments, or in my messages. i will appreciate ANYTHING.

jean

"alright everyone," hange says, "go to your respective rooms. we'll meet back up in the morning and explore some more!" she turns to leave with onyankopon and levi who were staying in a nearby hotel as to not draw too much attention.

you look around for jean, sasha, and connie who were also staying in this hotel with you. as soon as you went to grab sasha to room with, connie swooped in, and the two were so excited that they were going to have a "sleepover". you heave a small sigh.

"don't sound too disappointed." jean says, giving you a small smile. "sad you're stuck with me tonight?"

"never." you say, bumping your shoulder with his. "it will just be much harder to keep an eye on those two." jean's smile slowly slides off his face.

"oh yeah." not much you can do about it now. you grab jean's hand and pull him to go find your room.

"this is actually so interesting, being in marley. i can't believe they have actual cars!" you say excitedly, smiling while looking out the window. you couldn't believe how advanced this place is.

"you sound like hange now! keep it down before your dumbass gets us caught." you give jean a little smack.

"oh shut up." the two of you finally reach the room, and as jean opens the door, he stops halfway into the room.

"hey! get out of my way, horse-face!" jean turns to look at you, his face a little red.

"i think they gave us the wrong room." confused, you look around jean to see there is only one bed in the entire room.

"oh." the thought of spending the night with your best friend in the same bed also made you a little pink. much to your relief, jean didn't see because he was too busy hurrying to use the bathroom. in reality, he was trying to calm himself down, but you didn't know that.

your stomach was swirling as jean finally came out of the bathroom, his face wet, like he had washed it. you had to look away. of course you were nervous. you've had a crush on the man for quite a while now. but you'd rather die than admit that.

an awkward, uncomfortable silence blanketed the room. until jean spoke up. "I honestly think we should just share it. it's pretty big. and we've grown up together. it won't be awkward."

that's a relief. "yeah. as long as your big horse feet won't kick me in the middle of the night."

"hey! my feet are normal shaped!" you giggle, the previous tension gone. "yeah yeah."

the two of you chat a little bit before calling it a night. you tuck yourself under the covers, turning your back to jean. "i hope you don't snore."

"guess you'll find out tonight." the two of you try sleeping, and for a few hours, it was successful. until the room got incredibly cold. you shuffle closer to jean, but it wasn't helping all that much. you turn around, facing jean, who looked fast asleep.

"hey." silence. "hey!" nothing. so you start poking his face, and he flinches. "what?" now you're embarrassed.

"nevermind."

"oh no. you didn’t wake me up for nothing." he pokes your face. "what do you want?"

"can you hold me?"

"what?!"

"i'm cold!"

"oh. alright then, come here."

"really?"

"yes, y/n. now hurry up." so you weasel your way into his arms, sinking into his chest. he is so warm.

and in the morning, when he wakes up before you, he'll let you sleep, with your leg around his waist and his arms around you. maybe he will finally work up the courage to ask you out.

bertholdt

you were shaken. of course you were, you were kidnapped. the last thing you remember is walking away with armin on the wall, and you could faintly hear hange talking to moblit about titans that could dig. but you wake up on a tree, in the forest which was surrounded by titans. you see ymir awake, scowling at two men up on higher trees. is that eren over there? you have to blink because it's so bright, but when it finally comes into focus, you realize it's reiner and bertholdt. oh yeah. the traitors. you start breathing heavily, thinking about how it's your lover up there. ymir tries to calm you down, her eyes wide, but it doesn't work. how could he do this to you. was everything fake? were your friends still alive. why were you here? you start feeling faint, and feel hot tears pooling at your eyes. you faintly hear the screeching of odm gear coming closer, and you hear bertholdt talking to ymir, but it's too late, and you pass out once again.

when you awaken a second time, it's night. you have to adjust your eyes to try to figure out where you are. but all you see are stars. you're on the wall. you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"y/n?" you turn your head without moving your body and see him. bertholdt, who's eyes are red and swollen. you reach your hand up to hold his face but then think better of it. you let your hand fall.

"i'm so sorry. y/n, i'm so sor-"

"bertholdt!" you recognize reiner's voice and lift your body up, with his hand on your back. you shove his hand away, ignoring the hurt look on his face. you see reiner and ymir coming your way. while bertholdt and reiner whisper to each other, ymir comes to check on you.

"are you alright?" you shrug. which earns a sad smirk from ymir. shortly after, bertholdt returns to kneeling next to you, but not saying anything. after a while, you find your voice.

you turn your head to bertholdt and ask, "how did i get here?" he flinches at your strained tone, but softly explains what happened while reiner and ymir set up sleeping bags they found in the district below. you also find out the truth about bertholdt's background. about him being from marley, his mission, why he decided to become a warrior. he explained about his sick father and the oppression he received just because he was eldian.

and suddenly, your heart was conflicted. there was life outside of the walls. but they weren't free. they had the same blood you did, and they were being tortured for it. but they killed so many innocent people from inside the walls. those people didn't know what they were dying for. they didn't deserve to die. you wanted to yell and scream at him, but you also wanted to comfort him. so you cried. you cried and cried and fell into him because you were weak, and despite hating him for all he had done, you loved him. and he held you as you cried, and eventually he started crying with you. so the two of you cried until there were no tears left. in the silence left behind, you whispered to him, "take me with you. take me home with you." too weak to argue, he agreed. he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and wiped away your tears.

"ok."

what felt like hours later, reiner came to drop off the sleeping bag.

"i'm sorry, but we could only find three." while bertholdt starting insisting you take it, you just stand up and take the sleeping back from reiner, giving the man a hug, which surprised him.

"thank you. one is enough. we can share." and so you did.

you held onto his long ass body and just held each other, oozing comfort the both of you needed.

reiner

while porco and pieck were mocking him from behind, you were at his side, giggling at his little pout. you intertwined your arm with his and put your head on his shoulder, causing the two goons to laugh and mock even more. but the two of you didn't care. you guys were considered pretty close before, but after returning from paradise, the two of you were inseparable. the two of you walked along the festival, reiner occasionally having to stop to pay for gabi and the others, but never separating from you.

"oh, reiner!" pieck says, "don't forget about the meeting we have tomorrow." the both of you sigh.

"we haven't forgotten pieck," he replies. you detach yourself from reiner when you see porco beckoning to you. while reiner and pieck chatted, you were able to talk a bit with porco. the two of you wandered for a bit before reiner came to pull you away, looking a bit jealous, which porco wouldn't let him live down.

the two of you follow the children around until they get too tired and full from all the festival food. while reiner is dragging gabi around, the two of you talk about the trek you will have to make for the meeting.

"we should rent a hotel room. that way we won't have to get up too early tomorrow to travel."

"good idea!" so after dropping off the children at their respective homes, the two of you hitch a ride to the hotel nearest to HQ where the meeting was taking place. when the two of you check in, you only ask for one room, but two separate beds.

however, when the two of you went to go to sleep, there was only one bed. although, it didn't bother you two that much, as the two of you often slept over together.

so when it was time for bed, the two of you crawled in together, immediately cuddling together. you lay your head on his chest and he holds you. this was how you often found comfort when the two of you first got back from the island, often crying about bertholdt, annie, and the comrades you considered friends. and the two of you haven't stopped this little routine, even years later.

but this time felt a little different. reiner was holding you more tightly than usual. but you couldn't bring yourself to ask why because you were too tired. as you were falling asleep, you hear him whisper, "I love you." not that you would know this, but he had been telling you this for a long time when you were sleeping. so it quite surprise to him when you opened your eyes and smiled.

"I love you too." you slowly press a kiss to his lips and he graciously returns it.

author's note (again): will there be a part two? idk yet. let me know if y'all want one in the comments section. (and i know you saw my author's note up top. *suspicious side eye* you better tell me what to write next)

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apollodarling-writes · 1 year ago

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isekai’d reader, thanking reiner and bertolt for their help during training and giving them a knowing smile : thanks guys! we’ll make the greatest warrio- haha, sorry! i meant scouts — we’ll make the greatest scouts someday.

bertolt, glancing at reiner and having vietnam flashbacks :

reiner also having vietnam flashbacks :

isekai’d reader :

levi, glaring at reiner and bertolt, then directing his attention to you : where the hell did you even get “warrior” from, brat? you’ve been in the scouts long enough to know the damn name.

isekai’d reader :

reiner :

bertolt :

levi, sighing : it’s time for our daily cup of tea, cadet. let’s go.

and then bertolt and reiner are left to wonder if you know more than you let on or if it was actually just a slip of the tongue.

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pinkmirth · 2 years ago

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Bertholdt being shy about how big his dick is has me kicking my feet n twirling my hair <33

He would 100% roll his hips against yours when you’re making out with him n then get shy when you’re surprised because you can feel how big n heavy his cock is sjfjakcnkand

𝒢ℰ𝒩𝒯ℒℰ 𝒢ℐ𝒜𝒩𝒯 . . !

𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: based on this post! a teensy-tiny drabble for bertl! my sweet big boy 💘

𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈: (700+ words of . . .) aged up!bertholdt hoover x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, bertl has a mega size kink, handjob, oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex, mention of bertl’s big bawls, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

omfg sandie!!! now this is everything to me! there’s nothin’ like a giant man who can’t truly grasp just how large he is.

bertholdt is well aware of his height— since his earliest memories he’s towered over others, standing head and shoulder above them. but when it comes to size-size? bertl doesn’t fully register how big he is. this bashful man don’t got a clue in the world!

your reaction to bertl discarding his underwear is what gets him to finally understand. to you, he already looked fairly large when wearing his boxers, but witnessing the real thing proves to be a stark difference. you unashamedly observe your boyfriend’s fat dick as it throbs lewdly, free of any confines. he can feel your keen eyes fixate on him.

“you’re fuckin’ huge.” you release the airiest whisper.

to that, bertholdt’s breath catches in his throat, adam’s apple bobbing. he gets self-conscious, even more so than usual. a stream of questions swirl about in his head. is he too big? will you be able to handle him? are there even condoms in his size?

his worries quickly dissipate once you begin to wrap your dainty fingers around his cock. you stroke whatever you can manage to reach, touching down his shaft and twirling your hand over the precum-smeared tip. you gaze at his endowment with lust-blown eyes, seemingly appreciative of what he has to offer.

“how big are you, baby?” he doesn’t know. hell, he’s never cared to check or measure before now. your assumption is nine whole inches, maybe ten.

“i— fuck,” he lets a foul whine slip past, bringing a hand to cover his mouth. he shyly speaks through his slender fingers, “i-i’m not sure...” with a stammer, bertholdt instinctively rolls his hips, bucking against your hand. his pale-green eyes stay trained on how you can barely close your fingers around the base of his girthy dick. in that very moment, within the depths of his mind, he can practically hear a switch flicking— that’s the size kink he never knew he had, officially turning on.

following that experience, bertholdt’s shyness considering his length doesn’t get any better. he’s easily flustered, but also more self-aware than he’s ever been. bertl starts to notice how wide your plush lips stretch around his cockhead when taking him into your wet, pliant mouth. he finds it amusing; how you can’t mutter a word when he fills up your throat, weighty and pulsing against your tongue.

he admittedly likes to give himself a rush during sex, by sizing you up— placing his rigid cock onto your tummy, just to make an estimate of how far he’ll reach. before long, he brushes past your folds and pushes into your velvety cunt. you clamp down fervidly, eager to take all of him.

he’s settled in your womb. you’re so fucking full. “it’s big,” you brainlessly mewl. bertl interlocks his fingers with yours, cheeks dusted red. he makes slow, impassioned thrusts forward, swiveling his hips to plunge into you just right.

“is it too much, love?” bertholdt’s words spill out shakily, wavering breaths dropping from his agape mouth. dark shaggy bangs fall across his forehead. you thread your hand through his hair to help him brush it back. faint traces of sweat trail down his forehead. “uh-uh. it’s perfect, baby,” you reassure with a soothing smile, pressing your lips to his. he returns the haphazard kisses, immodestly groaning into your mouth.

you’re always given generously thick loads when he finishes, because his balls are fat and heavy, too. bertholdt is slowly, but surely, learning how to use his imposing size for your benefit.

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marisoil · 3 days ago

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𝑰𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

summary: taking care of bertholdt while heʼs sick </3

an: hello?? why is nobody writing for my husband anymore .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. stop this madness i beggg

genre: fluff

word count: 1,865

bertholdt hoover is dying, or at least that’s what he’s convinced himself.

he’s spread out on the bed like a wilted fern, blankets wrapped somewhere near his ankles, his cheeks are sweltering with a rouge so pronounced it appears to radiate heat, an almost wrathful vermilion. perspiration grips his pores in uneven tracks, weeping down the line of his jaw until it pools at the hollow of his throat. his hair sticks to his forehead in a matted constellation of ink and sweat, each strand entangled by the molten fever devouring him from the inside out.

the illness has robbed him of his grace; it has transformed him from a man of deliberate tranquility to a disheveled, breathless mess. his chest stutters unevenly, and you try not to count the seconds between each rise, try not to let your concern wrap itself too tight around your ribs, but it’s no use. his breathing hooks into you like barbed wire, pulling every composed thought to pieces. the air is heavy with sickness, wet and sour. nose red and raw from tissues he’s half-heartedly tossed to the floor that youʼll have to clean up sooner or later, everything in his head feels indistinct, every square inch feels like itʼs been stuffed with dense cotton.

he canʼt think, he canʼt breathe. he’s miserable. absolutely, profoundly miserable.

“you’re not dying.” bertholdt groans. his arm flops over his face in what he most likely believes is a tragic display of distress. his flaked lips part, but whatever retort he was working on tangles in his throat, collapsing into a pitiful whimper. he lets his arm which is suddenly as heavy as stone descend unto the bed, that small gesture costing him something he can’t spare.

he blinks up at you, his glazed eyes lazily wandering along your features. “i can’t breathe,” he wheezes, voice shredded by congestion. “it’s over for me. tell reiner… he can have my star destroyer lego.” you bite back a laugh, dipping the washcloth into the bowl of cool water you’ve set by the bed. his dramatic tendencies are endearing, really. he always leans into the absurd when he’s out of his depth, and now, with his fever tugging at the strings of his lucidity, he’s in a rare form.

“you’re gonna be fine,” you coo, wringing out the cloth and pressing it to his forehead. he shivers at the touch. “you don’t know that,” he whispers.

“actually i do. because you’ve just got a bad cold, and bad colds don’t kill people.”

“you say that,” he mumbles, “but “it’s not… just a fever. it’s—” his hand weakly reaches out, awkward fingers fumbling for yours. “—the plague?” you cut in. his hand finds yours, and you take his sweaty grip, cradling it between your palms. “then i guess weʼll die together,” you reply lightly, brushing back damp strands of hair from his forehead.

“don’t say that!” his voice cracks, and it’s hilarious how genuinely horrified he looks. “i don’t want you to get sick. stay away from me. i’m—i’m toxic.”

“you’re not toxic,” you reply, leaning down until your nose brushes his. “and i’m not going anywhere.” he tries to protest, tries to scoot away from you, but he’s too weak, too exhausted. instead, he slumps back into the pillows with a squeak, looking up at you like you’ve just confessed to a crime. you don’t care that he’s sick, that every exhalation is a cloud of germs, that you’ve probably already doomed yourself to catching whatever he has. none of it matters. you’ll take care of him, hold him together when he feels like he’s falling apart, and if you get sick, you’ll survive.

“you’re gonna get sick,” he nods, “then you’ll hate me. then you’ll leave me.” “never,” you say, without hesitation. you press your lips to his temple, ignoring the way his skin burns against yours. his breath hitches, a soft sound caught between disbelief and something far more fragile.

“you’re too close,” he croaks, “too close, yn. you’ll…” the rest of his sentence melts into the heat of his fever, ecstasy coursing through him in the way your lips press against the side of his head.

“bertholdt,” you interrupt, your voice low and certain, “shut up.” something in him jolts, sharp and immediate. his heart stumbles, then picks up, drumming erratically in his chest. it’s embarrassing, dizzying, and so utterly him. he shouldn’t like the way you say it, shouldn’t revel in the dominance of your voice, but he does.

“you’re like… the sun.” your hand pauses mid-stroke, the damp cloth pressed against his temple. “what?”

“you’re…” he blinks up at you, his glassy eyes catching the soft glow of the bedside lamp. his mouth is dry, the words sticking to his tongue, but he forces them out anyway, clumsy and slurred. “you’re warm. but not… not too warm. just right. like… like sunlight.” you stare at him, your expression unreadable, and he feels a fresh wave of heat rush to his cheeks. it’s not the fever this time; it’s the realization of what he’s just said, the absolute absurdity of it. he wants to crawl under the quilt and never come out again, but your lips twitch into something close to a smile, and it stops him cold.

“you’re delirious,” you say, but there’s no bite to your words, no mockery. it makes his chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with his fever. your palm lies flat against his cheek, and he leans into your touch without thinking, his body betraying him. “but i guess it’s sweet.”

he huffs out a laugh, or something close to it, but it breaks down into a cough that wracks his entire body, making you wince. your hand is there instantly, guiding him back with a tenderness that makes his heart ache. “easy,” you whisper.

“see? this is what happens when you talk too much,” you chide gently, easing him back against the pillows.

“sorry,” he whispers, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. “goodness, bertholdt. i honest donʼt know what to do with you.”

“you’re…” he tries to speak, but his throat is too dry, his mind too foggy to form more coherent thoughts than he already has. he swallows, the effort sending a fresh wave of pain through his body, and you’re there immediately, lifting a glass of water to his lips with steady hands. “drink,” you command, and he obeys without question, the cool water soothing the fire in his throat. when he’s finished, you set the glass aside, your fingers brushing against his as you pull away.

“you’re cute.” your breath stills, the faintest laugh escaping you. “say that again,” you coax, your fingers trailing along the line of his jaw, pulling his gaze back to yours. his cheeks deepen in their flush, though fever alone cannot take the blame.

“i didn’t mean to—”

“you did. say it again” you counter, your tone light, teasing. he groans, burying his face in the pillow. “you’re cruel.”

“maybe,” you admit, your lips ghosting over his ear. “forever and always, bertholdt hoover,” you whisper, your words laced with warmth. “even when you’re sweaty and gross.” his breath stirs faintly against your neck, soft and uneven.

“you’re ridiculous.”

you shift slightly beneath him, trying to adjust the pillow to give him more comfort, but bertholdt doesn’t let you move far. his hand suddenly slips to your waist, his grip featherlight but firm enough to keep you close. “stay, don’t go.”

“i wasn’t planning to.” his eyes are heavy-lidded as they search yours. there’s something desperate in the way he looks at you.

“you’re so… so good to me,” he breathes.

“you deserve it,” you say simply, and his breath hitches like the words are something fragile and unattainable. you feel his fingers flex at your waist, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

“can i…” he starts, his voice trailing off as his eyes meet yours again. he doesn’t finish the sentence, but you understand him anyway, leaning in before he can lose his nerve. his lips are chapped, rough against yours, but the unpolished texture only makes the kiss feel more real, more him—raw and unguarded. but then you kiss him back, your hand slipping to the back of his neck to pull him closer. the fever has made him pliant, his usual hesitations melted away, and he responds with an urgency that surprises you. his mouth is warm, and his kisses are clumsy, desperate, as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of you.

you don’t pull away, not even when his breath catches or when his fingers tighten against your hip, grounding himself. instead, you let him pour himself into you. it’s feverish, messy, and utterly perfect, the taste of him lingering on your lips like something you’ll never forget.

when you finally part, it’s only because you can feel the way his body has gone slack, his head falling back onto your chest. he gives you a small, blissed-out smile that makes your chest tighten.

“you’re…” he whispers, his voice trailing off as his eyelids grow heavier. “perfect.”

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chuuyasballz · 1 year ago

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Attack On Titan characters as random screenshots in my phone (part 11)

Link to other parts

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman #marco bodt #eren jeager #eren aot #armin arlert #bertolt hoover #hange zöe #hange zoe #annie leonhart #reiner braun #historia reiss #christa lenz #ymir aot

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hanjisungslag · 1 year ago

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attack on titan headcanons #8

## - when they get jealous

genre - angst & fluff

pairing - aot x reader

word count -

warnings - none!

notes - i might start uploading more than once a month.. christmas specials coming soon😈

EREN JAEGER -

lil’ bro gets soooo mad. jean was chit chatting to you about something you guys had in common and there was too much laughing, giggling and jean was FAR too close. like he doesn’t need to be making you laugh first of all, but then being all up in your business?!? nahhh, eren was NOT having it.

“‘that’s it. i’m going up to him, how DARE HE—” then he feels a tug on his shirt and gets yanked back right into his seat.

“you need to learn how to chill out, eren.” reiner says, lecturing him “i know it looks bad, but it’s gonna be embarrassing for you and y/n if you go up there and cause an argument.”

god, he’s right. eren knew he was. but, he was SO angry, he needed to let out his anger somehow! the only option was to go to the dorm and just start punching shit.

MIKASA ACKERMAN -

silence suddenly took over in mikasa and sasha’s conversation. sasha slowly turned to her left to see what had mikasa in such shock and there you were with none other than ymir. ymir had her arm right above you, looking down on you. what the fuck did she think she was doing?! mikasa was furious and you could tell she was just by her energy. it was pure silence but those looks could kill.

sasha decided it was probably best for her to step back a bit.. she was also terrified that mikasa would kill her with one glance although she wasn’t doing anything bad..

ARMIN ARLERT -

as armin was strolling around town, he sees you! he starts walking over, shouting your name through the busy crowds of the town centre when he sees you and bertholdt.. laughing, bumping shoulders, looking through what seemed to be like some sort of gift shop. armins never really the jealous type, he doesn’t like to get worked up over things like that but something about this made his stomach turn.

he decided to head back to the dorms.

eventually, when you and bertholdt came back from your little shopping trip - you obviously, go to go see armin! you knock on his door and gently start pushing it open,

“hey babe~ whatcha doing?”

“oh nothing, just uh, sharpening my blades ready for tomorrow” he tried to put on a smile because he really doesn’t want to start anything. he just wants to act like nothings happened.

“oh.. well then. i- erm, i got you something today..”

“w-what?” he swung his head around to face you

“yeah! i know you’ve been wanting those maps of the outside world but i didn’t know where to find them but bertholdt did, so he took me to the shops!”

armins jaw dropped. first of all, maps of the outside world?!? that’s incredible! but also.. that whole situation that made him so jealous, was about buying something for him? god. he feels SO silly.

SASHA BRAUS -

honestly, this queen isn’t the jealous type. i feel like she doesn’t care over little things like touching, laughing, spending time with others - it’s the BIG things like if someone’s trying to flirt with you. but even then, she doesn’t feel jealous. she loves you and you love her and that’s enough for her.

there was a celebratory party with the military after you guys finally caught the female titan. this include the whole military obviously the survey corps but even garrisons and military police.

a girl from the garrisons, whom you’ve never met before, makes her way over to you and strikes up a conversation. you think nothing of it until she starts laughing, shoving you away by your shoulder and then.. she started flirting. as you were about to calm the situation down before she got any ideas, your girlfriend walks over.

“hey babe” sasha exclaims

“oh, sasha!” you say in shock, you really hope she isn’t upset.

“hey i’m sasha, i don’t think we’ve met before!” she puts her hand out to the girl, “by the way, this is my s/o. i don’t mind you guys talking but boundaries! thanks.” she giggles slightly.

“oh god— this is so embarrassing. i’m so sorry, i have to go.” the girl says before she runs off.

“sasha, i’m so sorry. i was just about to tell her” you quickly explain yourself

“it’s fine! honestly, i know that you love me and i love you. i trust you” she says, giving you a tender smile.

CONNIE SPRINGER -

he tries to act soo nonchalant. but omg he’s so jealous because, he sees armin as this insanely intelligent, witty, incredible leader and you, also being crazy smart, tend to help armin out with plans for the survey corps.

“i already sent some soldiers to do some scouting around that area, they’ll be back in a couple of hours”

“god armin!”

“what..”

“it’s like you read my mind! i was literally gonna ask to go do that.” you giggle slightly at the coincidence. armin lets out a sigh of relief and says ‘y/n!! don’t scare me like that, i thought i did something wrong!” you both giggle at armins fright but as you two were laughing away, little did you know, a mr. connie springer was watching from the crack in the door.

connie quickly walked off after he realised he was literally eavesdropping on you and armin. ‘why am i feeling so jealous? god, get a grip connie.’ he thought to himself and he stomps down the corridor, getting far away from you two in that room.

eventually, you find connie chilling outside, “connie!!” you run towards him in excitement. “i’m so sorry, i’ve been stuck in that room planning with armin all day. but i missed you so much” you say before wrapping your arms around him.

“ugh, babe. it’s fine, seriously!” he says hugging you back, slightly too tight.. “connie. cant. breathe.” he quickly lets you go, “shit, sorry.”

you raise an eyebrow and ask “are you sure you’re okay..?” “what?! what a preposterous accusation!” he says defensively “okay now i know somethings wrong. since when do you say ‘preposterous’?”

he sighs in defeat, he cant lie any longer “okay fine. i just got a bit.. jealous.. when you were with armin today, okay? armins super smart and so are you, so maybe you two should just marry each other and have super smart babies” he says, as he slides down a post, hitting the ground with a thud.

“connie…” you slide down to sit next to him, “connie, i know you think me and armin are super smart but, i think YOU’RE super smart. you’re so emotionally and socially intelligent. i love that about you and not even just that, i love everything about you! and if i’m gonna get married and have super smart babies with anyone, it’s gonna be you.” you say as you give me a sweet, genuine smile.

thank god you know him so well or else he would’ve never had said anything.

JEAN KIRSTEIN -

is that what jean think he just saw? y/n, HIS partner with eren jaeger?? oh wow. greatttt, no it’s fine.

IT IS NOT FINE. why were you talking with him and why did you both seem so happy? this jealous anger that was building up inside of jean quickly switched so sadness. this man was so heartbroken.

his ego just felt it got crushed by a 100 buses. his first instinct was to fight eren as usual but, it had been a while since their last fight honestly and if anything.. jean looked up to eren. sort of. he really appreciated his boldness, his strength and his willingness to keep going no matter what. although, he was still a suicidal maniac.

jean already felt like second place to eren in most things but now his partner? really?! jean couldn’t take it anymore so he decided to go on a walk in trost, maybe even pop by his house and have his mum make him an omelette.

after you were done talking to eren, you go to find jean but.. he’s no where to be seen? and after EXTENSIVE searching for the whole place - you knew where he had gone. you get to trost as fasttt as possible and end up at his house, talking to his mother. she lets you inside, of course, offers you tea and omelette, which you politely decline and head straight for jeans childhood room.

you slowly open the door, the old creaking letting jean know of your presence before you even said a word. “hi babe..” you say slightly awkwardly, “so, how come you ended up here?” you ask and you slowly make your way towards the bed. jean stares at you as he chews his omelette, which he eventually swallows and continues to stare at you. “why were you with eren?” he eventually asks after some silence “oh jean! really? that’s what this is about?” you ask, slightly annoyed.

“yes it is!” he exclaimed and jumped off his bed in anger “do you know how—” he begins to choke up “how much i hate yet respect eren? he’s so much better than me in so many aspects and he has some god awful traits but also some incredible ones that people could only DREAM of having.” tears begin to stream down his face and before he says another word, you jump up and wrap your arms around him.

you guys stand there momentarily. while still hugging, you say to him “i’m sorry, jean. i didn’t know you felt like that. i just- i hope you know how much i admire you more than anyone else. it’s not just because we’re together, it’s because you’re an amazing person.“ you slowly pull away from him “you may look up and respect eren, but i look up to YOU.” you wipe his tears gently “and so do so many other people.” you smile tenderly at him.

he’s such a lucky guy to have someone like you.

REINER BRAUN -

big bro does not get jealous. sorry but, this man is too perfect. he doesn’t get jealous because why would he? he knows you love him and that’s more than enough for him. he genuinely trusts you with every fibre of his being however, he doesn’t trust other people.

it’s less of a jealously thing and more of a protective one. he doesn’t get jealous if someone’s flirting with you, he gets protective over you. like get the fuck away from my s/o, bro!!

ANNIE LEONHART -

hot take: annie gets so jealous and so insecure when someone she believes you could like gets too close with you.

the ONLY REASON she would ever get so jealous or insecure is because you guys are in a relationship. this cold demeanour that she keeps up with around everyone else is not a thing when she’s around you, she just feels so herself and so authentic around you and the thought of that getting taken away scares the ever living shit out of her.

so, when she sees you chatting it up with sasha, she shits herself. now usually, sasha wouldn’t faze her but sashas bright, outgoing personality seems like something that you would like and that’s terrifying.

however, annie doesn’t say a WORD about how jealous she’s feeling. she’s already scared enough but she’s more scared to piss you off by saying something. but, that’s your mfing girlfriend!! you know when there’s something wrong with her, so obviously you asked,

“annie, are you okay? you’ve been really off lately.”

she looks at you confusingly “what? i’m fine.”

no she’s not.

“i know when somethings wrong, so just tell me!”

she doesn’t even look at you. she cant bare to face you right now. while she’s ignoring you, you think long and hard about what could be wrong and you finally come to a conclusion..

“omg. you’re not jealous i’m spending them with sasha, are you?”

annie’s eyes widen in shock, how did you know?! well, now you’ve said something, i suppose there’s no point in lying.

“yes, i am. you caught me.” annie puts her hands up in defeat.

“annie~ you silly bugger! there’s no need to be jealous, it’s just sasha, she’s just my friend. as great as she is, i could never date her..” you say reassuringly.

annie smiles slightly, “i appreciate that, y/n..”

BERTOLT HOOVER -

connie springer. most people wouldn’t be jealous of a 5’2 teenage boy but this 6’3 teenage boy is. connie is just so outgoing, bright and funny and bertolt is scared that you may just find him better than him.

so when he sees you two acting really close, he starts freaking THE FUCK OUT. he’s soooo flipping scared, he’s genuinely scared to face you again.

when you you over to him after being with connie, he just freezes and you’re so confused, “bertolt, what’s up with you?” you ask “o-oh, um, it’s nothing. i just couldn’t sleep last night.” he says, sounding very unconvincing. for the next week, he does EVERYTHING for you, just hoping that that’ll be enough to override connie’s impeccable humour.

“hey y/n, you can have the rest of my food! i don’t want it.” he says as he holds out his plate to you.

“bert.. why do you keep giving me your food? and making my bed? and washing my clothes? and just doing everything..?”

oh my god, he’s fucked it. HES DONE TOO MUCH, WHAT DOES HE DO NOW??

“i- umm. well—” he freezes.

you pat the seat next to you “come here, what’s wrong?”

he sighs “well.. you’ve been hanging out with connie a lot and i don’t know, he’s just a great guy..”

“bert..” you say sorrowfully, “connie may be a good guy, but you’re the greatest guy i know! there’s no need to ignore me or try to impress me. i love you just the way you are.”

bertolt puts his head in his hands “god, you’re right. i was being silly wasnt i?” he said sheepishly

you giggle at his embarrassment “yes, very silly.”

LEVI ACKERMAN -

brother, this man has been through enough shit. honestly, he doesn’t get jealous - the worst that could happen to you is you dying. which happens to everyone he loves. if for someone reason you were to cheat or break up with him and move on to someone else, at least he knows you’re happy and loved.

“hey levi, i’m going to help erwin with something, will you be okay on your own?” you ask

“yes, i’ll be fine, y/n.”

“i’m sorry if i’ve been with erwin more often lately, it’s just that-”

he cuts you off, “y/n, it’s fine. i seriously don’t mind you spending time with him for whatever reason.”

you look at him sweetly “okay.. sorry. i’m gonna go now, i love you!”

“yeah, yeah.”

“I SAIDDD.. i love you” you say as you give him a wide smile

he sighs “i love you too.”

ERWIN SMITH -

nile dok. always going around trying to take erwin’s partners man😭.

you’ve been in wall sina with the military police a lot lately, dealing with all the shit they’ve got going on and therefore, you’ve come in contact with their former commander, nile dok, A LOT.

although erwin had chosen the secrets of the titans over marie, doesn’t mean he wasn’t lightly suspicious and jealous when you kept mentioning nile. however, this is erwin smith, he’s a grown and mature man and what do grown and mature men do? talk about their problems!!

“y/n?”

“yes..?”

he chuckles slightly before speaking “gosh, this is going to sound so silly now i’m thinking about it. but, is anything happening between you and nile?”

you burst out laughing “what?! me and nile? erwin, come on now!”

he rubs his forehead “i knew it was silly.. i was just feeling a bit jealous, that’s all.”

you sympathise with him very quickly “aww erwin” you go into hug him “i’m sorry, i know i’ve been there a lot but i promise, there’s nothing happen, just pure innocent work.” you say as you rub his back.

you both pull away “i do know that, i think i just wanted some reassurance that’s all.” he says.

HANGE ZÖE -

what is y/n doing.. talking to mr. levi ackerman? aha.

now.. hange wouldn’t think much of this, but they could see what people would like and appreciate levi, especially after seeing how petra was with him - for someone reason, they can’t shake this feeling of jealously! what does one do when they’re jealous? get angry? cry? talk to their partner?

nope. hange is going to distract themselves until they simply forget. they begin to get super indulged in their work like i’m talking, you’ll leave the lab and they’ll say they’ll be another 5 minutes then you go back in the morning and they’re STILL there. researching titans over and over, taking any mission they possibly can, yapping about random stuff over and over, and eventually, you reach a breaking point.

“and then i said YOU CANT DO THA—”

“OKAY HANGE. hange..” you yelled

hange looked shocked at the sudden outburst and quickly shut their mouth.

“hange, what on earth is going on here?! why’ve you been indulging yourself in your work more than usual? you’re spending hours and hours on work and random stuff and i feel like i haven’t been able to get a word into our conversations lately!”

hange stops and reflects, oh my god. has it really been that bad? hange just wanted to do a little more work than usual, to distract themselves but clearly it’s been much more.

“i-i-” hange is speechless for once. “i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry y/n, oh my god!! what have i been doooiiinnngg..?” they slam their head on the table in front of them

“i don’t know, what have you been doing? i wanna know!” you ask, feeling slightly frustrated.

“god, y/n!! i’ve been so stupid, i was JEALOUS over you and LEVI, OUT OF PEOPLE?!” it’s like it all hit them at once, how crazy and silly they’ve been.

“i am soooo sorryyyy, snuchems” they say, pouting. “please, tell me a really long story so i’ll finally shut up for a few hours, i’m begging you. im sick of hearing myself at this rate!” they say with their hands clasped together, pleading with you.

“first of all, forgiven. second of all, LEVI ACKERMAN REALLY? third of all..” you look mischievous.

“okay so it started when i was 13 right and i was still living—”

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