#Marco Bodt x Reader

[luna-eclipse2000]

An Unexpected Surprise

How the AOT boys react to an unexpected pregnancy

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

Trigger warnings: Mentions of sickness, pregnancy complications

Eren

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “Shit… What’s going on?”

- You wipe your mouth with a paper towel

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

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

- “Oh, no… Please no…”

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

- When I say long, I mean it

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

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

- Not that he expects you to cook for him

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

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

- He checks outside and sees that your car is there

- “(Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

- “(Y/N)?” He asks softly

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

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

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

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

- “I-I’m sorry…”

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

- You point to the counter silently

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

- All of them are positive

- “Wait… You’re pregnant?”

- That phrase causes you to start crying again

- “I’m sorry!”

- He immediately kneels back down in front of you

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

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

- He gently takes your hand and kisses your knuckles

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

- You wipe your tears from your cheeks

- “I… I always did want to be a mom.”

- You can see his eyes light up at your decision

- “Really? You want to keep it?”

- You nod and start smiling

- He pulls you into a hug

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

Armin

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

- But then it didn’t

- Two days later and it still didn’t start

- Now you’re getting nervous

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

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

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

- But each come back positive

- Now you’re terrified

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

- But your subconscious exposes you

- And the fact that Armin is so damn observant

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

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

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

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

- “I’m not going.” You tell him

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

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

- Armin walks around the couch and sits beside you

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

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

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

- Armin stands up and walks away

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

- You weren’t expecting him to jump for joy

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

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

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

- You can practically hear him say-

- “Will you marry me?”

- What?

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

- He’s got tears in his beautiful blue eyes

- “What?” You asks aloud

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

- You start crying again but with tears of joy

- “Yes!”

- He laughs and takes your hand from the blanket

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

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

- “I love you so much!” He says

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

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

- He then leans down to your stomach

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

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

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

- “If you want me to.”

Jean

- You stare at the test sitting on the bathroom counter

- You start to cry

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

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

- But you know you want to keep it

- Your mind instantly goes to Jean

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

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

- You pick up your phone and write out a text

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

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

- But then his face falls when be reads your message

- “We need to talk”

- No emojis

- No “I love you”

- No “Don’t worry, but…”

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

- “Hey, man. Are you ok?” Marco asks

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

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

- Both of his friends suck in a breath

- “Good luck, man.” Marco says

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

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

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

- Connie was right though, he’s shitting himself

- He keeps running through the day

- Did he say something wrong?

- Did he forget to do his chores?

- Was he supposed to go straight home?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “Have a seat, please.” You instruct

- Jean does as he’s told

- This is it

- You’re about to break up with him

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

- He can already feel tears welling up in his eyes

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

- He loves you so much, he can’t-

- “I’m pregnant.”

- His mind stills

- Everything goes silent as his mouth opens a bit

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

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

- You honestly get taken aback by his voice

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

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

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

- You laugh at his sweetness

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

- “I love you.” You say

- “I love you more.” He responds

Marco

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Marco’s noticed all of that

- You barely even touched dinner last night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “Marco… I’m pregnant.”

- He blinks a few times

- Are you being serious?

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

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

- Marco smiles happily and kisses you sweetly

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

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

Levi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- You jump when the alarm finally blares

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

- “Shit…”

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

- You have the same love for cleanliness that he does

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “How long have you been cleaning for?”

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

- He walks up to you and grabs your hands

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

- “What’s wrong?”

- You don’t look at him

- “Levi, please. Let me go.”

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

- “I… I’m pregnant.”

- Levi stiffens a bit

- You two were careful, you’re always careful

- But you’ve talked about kids

- He knows you want them

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- You smile, feeling your anxiety wash away

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

Reiner

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

- You’ve always had an amazing immune system

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

- Maybe you’ve developed an allergy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- But then you immediately call back

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

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

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

- “Hey, ba-“

- “R-Reiner.” You interrupt him

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

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

- “I-I’m scared.”

- “Ok, where are you?”

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

- “Home.”

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

- “O-Ok.” You say and then hang up

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

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

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

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

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

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

- He makes it in 15

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

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

- “(Y/N)?”

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

- You look up at him with red puffy eyes

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

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

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

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

- “I’m pregnant.”

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

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

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

- “What? Of course I do.”

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

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

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

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

- “I love you more, (Y/N).”

[levithestripper]

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Eren Yeager

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love me,” you tease, giggling. 

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

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

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

— Armin Arlert

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Jean Kirstein

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not my fault you fell for it!”

Jean huffs. “Will you let me up now?”

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

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

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

— Marco Bodt 

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

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

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

“How soon until you guys finish?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Connie Springer 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Bertolt Hoover

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Porco Galliard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 5

last || m.list || next

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marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 5k

chapter warnings: mentions of underage drinking, sexual innuendo, brief bi panic, reader sits in a shopping cart and conditions her hair

a/n: made it in just under the 2 year mark with a new update. guys...

♪ farewell andromeda (welcome to my morning) by john denver

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When you’re not chasing grade schoolers from place to place, there are only so many things to do at camp. After hiking, swimming, reading, and just generally hanging out around a campfire in your free time, you tend to get a little desperate for a change of pace. With a little planning ahead, Ymir has secured everybody a night off for a Wal-Mart trip, and by the end of a long week, the idea of hitting up the only nearby grocery store is genuinely as exciting as a ticket to Disneyland.

Camp Shiganshina is at least fifteen square miles from anywhere, so walking to town is out of the question. You spend dinnertime trying to figure out the carpool situation, and it turns out not everyone is coming along. Bertholdt twisted his ankle playing basketball, so he’s staying in the cabin for rest, ice, compression, and elevation on Nanaba’s orders. Eren and Mikasa also decline for unknown reasons, but they’re always weird like that, and only Jean seems disappointed. That leaves seven of you, and there’s only one vehicle in the parking lot that can fit that many passengers.

Erwin is surprisingly chill with the idea of letting you borrow the company van. “Why take two cars when you can all fit in there?” he reasoned when you, Reiner, and Hitch went to ask him together. “There’s no sense wasting your gas, and you’ll be safer if you all stick together.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure everybody’s taken care of,” says Reiner, flexing so hard you hear a thread snap in his t-shirt.

Erwin laughs, big and exuberant and sincere. “Of course! You have my trust.”

After running back to the cabin to toss your wallet and other necessities in a bag, you meet in the parking lot outside the mess hall. Erwin and Miche are leaning against the front of the van chatting while everyone loads up. Hitch dances her way over to them, holding out a hand to Erwin. “Keys, please!”

Erwin dangles a keychain as old as the vehicle itself above her palm before quirking a thick brow at her. “You are not to go over 55 miles per hour on the state route. You are not to exceed 35 on the side roads. And everyone wears their seatbelts. Understood?”

Perhaps startled by his serious tone, Hitch dials herself back. “Yes, sir.” He smiles and nods as he drops the keys in her hand, and she scuttles away to the driver’s seat.

Miche nudges you with his elbow. “Will you text me when you get there safe?”

You roll your eyes, hiding how sweet you find it. “Whatever, dad.” He makes a face at you. You stick out your tongue.

“Hey loser, you got bitch seat,” Ymir calls for you out the sliding door of the van.

You whirl around. “Historia is the smallest, why can’t she sit in the back?”

“We drew straws or something, I don’t know. Got a problem with that?” You’re used to the sass, but when she nods her head to the back of the van, it clicks. Marco and Jean sit on opposite ends of the third row bench seat—of course the middle is reserved for you.

You squeeze your way between the two bucket seats in the middle row, making sure to step and lean on Ymir as much as possible as you climb over her, just to be annoying. Tucking your bag between your feet, you manage to wedge yourself between the boys, shoulder to shoulder.

“Cozy,” you chuckle.

Jean reaches for the handle above the side window, making a little more space between you. “It’s not that far, at least.”

You pat behind both hips looking for your seat belt before you realize Marco is sitting on it. You start to reach for it, freezing only inches from his ass. “Uh, Marco. Can you scoot—”

Marco looks down where your leg is pressed against his. “Oh yeah! Uh…”

He twists as far as he can, already buckled, trying to lift his hip out of your way. You reach under him quickly, but your knuckles definitely drag across his back pocket. You click your buckle and then sit stiff as a board, hyper-aware of the fact that you fully touched his butt.

“Jesus Christ,” Jean mutters, sending you and Marco into a fit of laughter as Hitch backs out of the parking spot.

The first several minutes of the drive are spent messing with the music. Ymir shouts for Reiner to switch over to the radio, but every time he tries, it switches itself back to the tape deck after a few seconds. The cassette won’t eject, so your options are a John Denver single or silence.

“Leave it, this is a great song!” Historia begs. Neither Ymir nor Reiner will say no to her, but at least it’s Take Me Home Country Roads.

You’re a little embarrassed at first, but Marco nudges you after the first chorus. “Come on, I know you know the words. Everybody knows this song!”

You can feel your cheeks burning. “You just wanna make me sing.”

“Maybe I do.”

Historia is already singing, and when you start, so does Marco. Jean pipes up, and so does Reiner, and soon, everyone is belting the chorus.

There are only two songs on the cassette, and the B-side must have been less popular, because nobody knows the words to it. The van quiets down, but Marco still hums along. When you give him a surprised look, he blushes.

“My mom loves John Denver. I recognize the melody.”

It’s funny when Take Me Home repeats and prompts a second singalong, but by the fourth time the tape flips over, no one is singing anymore. Hitch turns the volume down to a faint rumble, and before long, you pull into the nearly empty parking lot of the Wal-Mart.

You stumble out of the back seat, thankful to stretch your legs after being crammed in so tight. You shoot off a text to Miche, letting him know you made it to the store with no casualties, to which he replies k thx kid. You could truly gag.

“Do we need a cart?” Reiner asks as you approach the giant sliding doors.

“Better get a couple,” you reply, pulling one from the stack. You know you want to buy snacks, grab a couple packs of Gatorade, and probably beg Ymir to get you some alcohol to smuggle away, and you’re not carrying all that around by yourself.

“Is there, like, no one here?” Jean asks, stepping through the second set of doors. “I swear it feels like it’s closed.”

“Relax, there are other cars outside.” Ymir rides her cart past him like a scooter, pumping her foot for a few paces before jumping on the bottom rail and gliding down the center aisle.

“What do we need to get?” Historia asks, scrambling after her.

“I’m heading for food and drinks,” you announce, pointing your cart toward the grocery section. Marco and Jean drift that way along with you.

“I need another pair of flip flops,” says Hitch. She and Reiner start to head the other way, where you’re sure she’ll find much more than just a pair of flip flops.

“I’m out of shampoo,” says Historia.

“And I want one of those things that you can make a grilled cheese with over the campfire. Everyone get what you want and then meet back at the pharmacy. And…go!” Ymir takes a running start, then rides her shopping cart out of sight as you head for the groceries.

You lose Jean somewhere around the Pop Tarts.

“Where did he go? Wasn’t he just behind us?” Marco asks, pushing the cart beside you in the beverage aisle.

“Either he wandered off or he’s looking for us just as fast as we’re looking for him.” You stop to heave a twelve pack of purple Gatorade on the bottom rack of the cart, making the whole thing rattle. You try to hide how heavy you’re breathing as you reach up toward the top shelf for another multi-pack.

“Want me to get those for you?” Marco asks.

“Sure, grab a pack of blue ones, please.”

Marco loads them under the cart for you, then takes the handle with a smirk. “Woah, this is super bottom-heavy now. Gonna need to counterbalance with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Counterbalance?”

Marco chuckles. “Just get in the cart. You know you want to.”

“Ride in the cart? What am I, five?” You scoff, fully pretending that you don’t want to take him up on the offer.

“If we’re going to find Jean before Ymir destroys the pharmacy out of boredom, we gotta pick up the pace.”

You poke him in the chest. “Sir, you are being especially wild tonight.”

“Must be the fluorescents.”

Marco holds the cart steady while you flop inside the main basket. It’s a tight squeeze, but when you dangle your feet out of the front, it’s almost comfortable. Once you’re situated, Marco pushes you down a few more aisles while you point out the snacks you want, and he piles them on top of you. 

Armed with fruit snacks, cheese crackers, and a bottle of pre-made margaritas to make Ymir buy for you, Marco zips down the dessert aisle and grabs three boxes of Little Debbies. ”Guilty pleasure” he says with a bashful shrug. “I swear I’m not going to eat them all in one sitting.”

“I didn’t assume so, but hey, no judgment here.” You shrug, motioning at the mountain of snacks in your lap. You’re not terribly concerned with eating clean and healthy every day this summer, especially not when you’re sweating buckets and trudging up and down the hill all day anyway.

Marco laughs. “Maybe when I was sixteen and super active. But now I think that would end me.”

“Oh?” You can’t help it—you’re insanely curious. “Were you a jock in high school?”

Marco rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I’d say that, but I played hockey for a long time.”

While you’d spent many afternoons daydreaming about him in football pads or tight baseball pants, something about the thought of Marco in a hockey uniform just makes sense. “Oh wow, hockey’s a big deal where you’re from, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, in Minnesota, it’s super popular. A lot of kids start playing pretty young.”

“Do you still play? I’ll admit, I don’t really know anything about hockey but I think it looks pretty cool.”

“I play on the university’s club team during the school year. We travel and play against other schools, but we’re a step below the official team. It’s fun, but none of us are going pro, you know?” Marco’s cheeks turn a strawberry pink, his eyes falling to the shelves of cereal boxes beside him. “Maybe you can come to a game sometime.”

“I absolutely will. I want to see you body check someone.” You’re giddy just thinking about it.

That makes Marco laugh. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

You round the corner of the next aisle and finally find Jean with a tub of pretzels under one arm and a case of Red Bull under the other. He notices you laughing and riding in the cart, and he gives you a look.

“Um. Where am I supposed to put these?”

“Here, fine, but you have to help me get out.”

“Don’t crush my zebra cakes!” Marco pleads.

Jean puts down his snacks and pulls you up out of the basket while Marco holds onto the cart, making sure you don’t get dumped out on the floor. Once Jean’s stuff takes your place, the three of you head for the pharmacy.

You find Ymir in personal care, waiting with the cart while Historia picks out hair products. Their basket is full of sheet masks, candy, a fleece blanket, and four of those sandwich irons Ymir wanted. When you pull up next to her, she invites herself to poke around in your cart.

“Are you feeding an army?”

“No, just stocking up.” Shooing her hands away, you slide the booze into her cart. “A gift from you to me.”

“Wow, ok. How presumptuous.” She fakes a scoff, but you know she doesn’t mind or care.

“Oh. I thought you wanted me to get that for you,” Marco says. “I guess it doesn’t matter who buys it but—”

You don’t really intend to cut him off, but you’re surprised. “I didn’t think you were 21.”

“I wasn’t… until last week.”

“Marco!” You can’t stop yourself. It just comes out.

“What?”

“Was it your birthday last week?”

Marco looks nervous. Almost frightened.

“Yeah.”

You push the cart out of the way to get closer. “Your twenty-first birthday?”

“Yeah?”

“And you didn’t tell us?” You’re yelling. You’re in the middle of a practically deserted Wal-Mart Superstore at 11 o’clock at night, and you’re yelling.

“Oh my god, yes,” Marco laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t want anybody to make a big deal about it. Now please calm down before you get carded and we all get in trouble.” He’s right, you’re causing a scene, and it makes your own cheeks burn. You don’t intend to forget about this, though.

“Well shit,” Ymir quips. She reaches for the margarita bottle and shoves it into Marco’s hands. “Then you can buy the lady her liquor.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marco puts the bottle back in your cart.

Ymir pretends to gag. “Do not call me that.”

“Hey, kids!” Hitch sails by into the next aisle, waving, Reiner hurriedly following her with their nearly full cart. You all follow, rounding the corner before you realize you’re congregating in front of the contraception. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’re adults, after all—but it’s not easy to be totally mature looking at a wall of condoms, especially with this group.

Hitch picks out a box of ultra thins, remarking, “For me,” as if you all really needed to know. Then she reaches for a box of magnums. Just as soon as you start to raise an eyebrow, she declares, “And for Bertie.”

“He wanted you to buy him condoms?” Reiner asks, sounding genuinely dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Marco looks pointedly at the tampons on the opposite side of the aisle, and Jean snickers like a complete dork.

“No,” Hitch smirks. “But he told me Annie is visiting next week. Gotta make sure he’s prepared.”

Ymir scoffs. “Fucking gross that they package those in gold like your jumbo dong is some sort of prize.” Then she reaches up to one of the higher shelves, asking nonchalantly, “Hey, baby, do you want warming lube this time? I think we’re almost out.”

It’s the kind of deeply intimate detail she normally has no problem sharing, but almost as soon as she says it, she freezes.

Reiner loudly clears his throat. “Who are you talking to?”

Nobody moves.

“Um.” Ymir rocks on her heels. Her eyes jump from person to person, searching. “Uh, Jean—”

Jean snorts. “Not even—”

“Ew. You’re right, that’s disgusting.”

“She was talking to me, Reiner,” Historia explains calmly. “Ymir is my girlfriend.”

Reiner barks out a laugh, but it fades quickly. He seems to realize she’s not joking just as Hitch and Jean fall apart, giggling. You have half a mind to abandon all your snacks and go hide in the van, you’re so secondhand embarrassed. You should never have gone along with this. 

Ymir crosses her arms proudly and leans against Historia’s side, though you’re not really sure if Ymir is winning or losing her own game anymore.

Hitch, pulling herself together, pats Reiner on the back. “Let’s go check out so we can get out of here.”

Fixing his own face, Reiner stammers, “Yeah. We should… yeah.” Almost tenderly, Hitch puts a hand on the front of their shopping cart, steering Reiner toward the registers as he follows behind.

Historia’s hands drop to her hips, and she gives Ymir a look. “Are you happy now?”

Ymir shrugs. “Pretty much.” Huffing, Historia takes off with their cart.

“Meet you at the front, baby girl,” Ymir calls.

Marco, his face beet red, reaches for your cart, but Ymir blocks one of the front wheels with her foot.

“Hold on, birthday boy.” She grabs a basic box of condoms and pushes it into Marco’s hands. His fingers don’t close around it—he drops it on the floor like it’s on fire.

Ymir snatches the box and shoves it back at him. “You’re gonna need these, trust me,” she snorts, and that familiar, overwhelming urge to smother her washes over you.

Marco, cheeks burning, flaps his lips a few times, but no words come out. Slowly, like he’s thinking hard, he puts the box back on the shelf.

You look away, your stomach dropping. You get that he’s embarrassed—Ymir is crossing a lot of lines—and it’s not like you didn’t pack a box of condoms in your suitcase, so you’ll have some if you need them. But now, you just want to get out of here because if you let yourself think about it for one more second, it’ll hit you all at once that Marco is just a really nice person who was never actually flirting with you and doesn’t like you back. 

You allow yourself one last glance over your shoulder to see if Marco is coming with your cart before you go lay in the road and wait for traffic.

Your breath catches when you see him drop a black and gold box, identical to the one Hitch picked out for Bert, into the cart.

Screaming in your head, you power walk past the checkout. Marco will have to pay for everything because there’s alcohol in the cart, so you wait by the exit like an idiot while trying to act casual, but really, how can you? You’ve only thought about Marco’s dick print a few hundred times, and those condoms practically confirm that he’s really and truly packing. And you want it. You want him so bad—

“Ready?” You blink and Marco is there, everything bagged up and ready to go.

Ymir walks by behind him, silently mouthing, “Jumbo,” and you don’t know whether to thank her or kill her where she stands. You hope neither registers on your face.

In the parking lot, you help Marco load the bags into the van. Now you’re the immature one, wondering which bag the condoms are in, whether they’re touching your Gatorades. You hope to god he bagged them with his damn zebra cakes so you don’t have to negotiate some kind of awkward, presumptuous handoff. He’s definitely smart enough for that. Of course he is.

When you buckle in for the ride home, it’s quiet in the van. Only Hitch talks over her shoulder to Historia about the big game of flashlight tag that Moblit and Hange have organized for tomorrow night. Ymir yawns heavily, and you’re pretty sure Jean already nodded off with his head against the window.

Reiner is silent in the passenger’s seat—if he’s not back to himself by tomorrow, you’re rounding everyone up to apologize. It was mean, what Ymir did to him, and you’re all pretty complicit. But sometimes Reiner bounces back from his moods miraculously, and sometimes he doesn’t. You’ll just have to wait and see what you’re dealing with in the morning.

The John Denver tape plays softly from the speakers. Beside you, Marco hums along, his long legs crammed in behind Ymir’s seat. Just as the silence is about to cross from uncomfortable to unbearable, Marco slowly but deliberately reaches out, lightly covering your hand from where it rests on your knee.

You curl into his side, and he starts to sing a little louder, just enough so that you can hear.

“Welcome to my evening, the closing of the day. I could try a million times, never find a better way.”

Before the drive earlier, you’d never heard this song. Now, upwards of six repeats in, you know at least some of the words—enough to mumble along a little with him. The chorus is familiar by now, an easy refrain of la la las that everyone who’s still awake can jump into.

Even if it’s a little awkward, at least you’re all either singing or snoring.

It wasn’t long ago that Marco told you that he felt safe with you. With your head on his shoulder and your hand wrapped in his, you’re sure you feel the same about him.

-

Before your first alarm goes off the next morning, you wake to the hushed sounds of Historia chasing Ymir out of bed. You can’t make out any clear words, just whispering and grumbling, but after a minute or two, the bed creaks. You roll over and crack an eye open just in time to see Ymir pull on her shoes and slip out the door.

You try to snooze a few more minutes before your alarm goes off, but it’s fruitless. Everyone is starting to rustle themselves awake, so you figure you might as well just get up and shower. Quietly, you gather your things and head out.

You pass the lodge on the way to the showers, where you spot Ymir on the upper balcony, sharing a porch swing with Reiner. They rock slowly, overlooking the hill that leads down to the lake. Good. As stubborn as Ymir is, you’re almost positive she’s up there apologizing. You hope he’s not taking everything too hard. Sometimes his feelings can be too big for him.

You leave them be and take a slightly longer shower than usual, your mind drifting back to Marco and the way he held your hand. You make sure to really take your time conditioning your hair and scrubbing down with your scented body wash. It’s silly, but you feel like you’re right on the precipice of something with him, and you want to look as nice as possible for it. As if it’ll last in this humidity. 

It’s a quiet morning when you return to the cabin to get dressed. Mikasa is already gone to do the wake-up calls (with Eren, because he can’t be trusted to get up on his own, let alone rouse everyone else). You expect a subdued breakfast. Maybe everyone who was at the store last night does.

Marco meets you at the front of the mess hall holding two styrofoam coffee cups. You’re getting used to the sight, but as you sit down next to him at the table, you see Jean already has his first cup. Marco hands his second cup to you.

“Oh, thank you. Does it–”

“Two sugars,” he says, and your heart squeezes. You try not to take it as a marriage proposal.

Glancing around, you don’t see the one person you were worried about. “Does anyone know where–” you’re about to ask, but you’re interrupted by a shockingly loud voice at the other end of the room.

You’re used to Erwin’s startling morning announcements. What you’re not ready for is Reiner standing at the fireplace next to him, smiling with all his teeth, shouting, “Good morning!” to the campers instead.

The campers look up, and Reiner doesn’t even have to give instructions. He simply points to the left side of the room, takes a big breath, and starts singing the first part of Down by the Bay, off-key but with heaps of enthusiasm. Erwin, pointing to his side of the room, comes in quickly with the echo, and the campers erupt. They’ve been working on the song in Nifa’s music lessons since the first week of camp, and they’re thrilled to sing it as a giant group.

You lean your chair back on two legs to ask Ymir, “What did you say to him?”

She simply shrugs over the bowl of cereal she’s already poured herself. “Don’t look at me. You know what he’s like at the asscrack of dawn. I didn’t say anything.”

“Liar,” you tease. She sticks her tongue out at you.

For all intents and purposes, Reiner does seem fine. But you saw the look on his face the night before. You can’t help but worry he’s just putting on a mask. 

You could send in a professional to get all the details from Reiner. Unfortunately, Hitch is posted up next to Erwin with a thermos of coffee, so she’s not going anywhere for the foreseeable.

Instead, you scurry up to Reiner yourself after breakfast and steer him out into the parking lot. “Hey. Are you ok?”

Reiner chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “What do you mean? I’m great.”

When you give him a look, he sighs. “All right, listen. Yeah, I was kind of messed up last night. But I thought about it, and I talked to Ymir this morning. The whole thing was partially my fault anyway.”

“Huh?”

“Deep down, I always knew the two of them had something going on. I didn’t know they were actually dating, but I ignored the obvious signs on purpose. I think I was just trying to distract myself from…” 

He kicks the dirt, eyes cast down. “You know what you said about those snaps Galliard was sending me?”

 “I remember.” You’re careful to answer evenly, as excited as you are about where you think this is leading. You don’t want to freak him out.

“Well, I sent some back. And it turned into a whole thing. Because I think I like it.” Reiner hesitates between every sentence. “But instead of thinking about how that made me feel, I wanted to flirt with someone else. A girl. Because I don’t have to think as much about that.”

You give his shoulder a squeeze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But you know, if you want to flirt with boys too, you can.”

Reiner clears his throat. “Is that… ok?” He asks so earnestly, it almost breaks your heart. He’s not asking if it bothers you; he’s asking for reassurance. For someone to give him permission.

“Yes. And if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. Or Ymir. Or Jean, or anyone. Nobody is going to be mad at you. I’m pretty sure Porco would be thrilled, actually.”

Before you can take another breath, Reiner wraps you in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you wheeze. “But you’re kind of crushing me.”

Reiner lets go, laughing. You both know you need to get moving to your next activity block. Reiner skips a few paces ahead, turning backwards to face you. “Gotta go. I have a wiffle ball game to win.”

“Go get ‘em!” Yeah. He’s going to be ok.

-

When the late June sun sets over the hill, you meet Hange and Moblit at the back door of the lodge. After making sure all the campers have a working flashlight (thanks to Hange’s messenger bag full of spare batteries), Moblit lays out the rules, and they’re all off into the dark to chase each other around.

It’s your job to hang around the perimeter of camp and make sure none of the campers go out-of-bounds into the woods or by the lake. With your own flashlight pointed down at the ground, you walk the path just past the tree line. When you hear a rustle in the leaves, you flick your light up, ready to point some little feet back toward the lodge.

Instead, you find a certain tall, broad, and dorky counselor stumbling out of the trees, the leg of his jeans caught in a prickly bush.

“Please help,” Marco chuckles.

While he points his flashlight at his ankle, you crouch down and shake his pant leg free.

“Thank you.” You can just make out his outline in the dark, shaded by the trees, but you can hear in his voice how hard he’s smiling.

“Any time.” You realize how close you’re standing, how much electricity hangs between you as you laugh awkwardly. You’ve never felt this alone with him before. You want something. Anything.

You lean a little closer, and he lingers, not pulling away. A hot wave of breathlessness washes over you, and you rise onto your toes, one hand ghosting over the back of his neck.

“Marco,” you whisper.

His flashlight hits the ground. Both of his big hands rest on the small of your back, and he pulls you in, capturing your bottom lip with his mouth, urgent but soft. You can’t help yourself. You throw both arms over his shoulders and squeeze, pressing your body against his, so close you can feel the pounding in his chest.

He gasps before deepening the kiss, letting your tongue slip past his lips. There’s nothing to say as you hold on a little too desperately, wrapped up in each other in the dark.

When you finally break apart, Marco is trembling. “I really, really like you.”

“I really, really hoped so.” You press one more light kiss against the hint of his collarbone that peeks out over the collar of his t-shirt.

Peals of laughter and flashlight beams from a few meters away startle you, and you hop back as a few campers chase after each other on the other side of the trees.

Marco retrieves his flashlight, and you wish you could see how hard he’s blushing. Instead, you give his hand a little tug. He laces his fingers between yours and gives a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” you tease. “We should pay attention.” You have the rest of the summer to figure this out. Right now, you have a job to do.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list || next

[firefly--bright]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ episode one ; pilot !

➷ episode soundtrack.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

➷ Sunday, 12:12 p.m.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"after everything we've been through?"

"we haven't been through any-"

"what happened to being together until the end?"

"guys, please, not no-"

"we are not engaged,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

jean was the beautiful stranger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

➷ Sunday, 7:59 p.m.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

➷ Sunday, 8:17 p.m.

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

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

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

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

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

there's a small beat of silence.

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

another beat of silent.

jean snickers.

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

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

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

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

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

"i did!"

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

Connie shrugs. "she tolerated our argument."

"it was barely an argum-"

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

"you guys can get loud," marco says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

marco sighs, gulping his food down.

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

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

"okay slut," Connie mutters.

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

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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

⁀➷ fic visuals ➷ fic playlist

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

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

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

⁀➷ comments, likes, reblogs are always appreciated!

line dividers by @peachesofteal

[luvbugs-blog]

getting saved by the aot boys

including: eren, jean, marco, bertoldt, and reiner

warnings: none!!

author's note: struggling a little bit with school and figuring out when I will set aside writing time. but please please please send me your thoughts!

eren

is this how you were going to die? in the arms of a filthy titan? well in this world, how else were you supposed to die? of old age? you weren't that lucky…you were overwhelmed with the stench of impending death, the titan's giant hand squeezing you so hard you thought you were going to break in half.

how could you allow yourself to be grabbed? oh, yeah, you were trying to save another cadet. selfishly, you thought that if you knew this was the outcome to begin with, you would have never tried to save him. you didn't want to die. you were going to leave behind your friends, your family… eren.

the two of you had just started going out, despite liking each other since you were children. but eren was too stubborn to admit he fully liked you until the night he was admitted as a soldier. he was so happy he passed the balance test, he just blurted out his feelings, much to your delight.

how was eren going to respond to your death? not that it matters, as you won't be alive to see it. black started to crowd around the corner of your eyes, but you swear you saw lighting out in the distance.

then you heard an animalistic cry. eren. was he coming to save you? just as the titan was lowering you into his mouth, you were thrown into the sky, before being snatched up by armin. as you hold onto armin with desperation, you look behind you to see eren's titan stomping on the titan's neck. you weren't going to die. tears sprung to your eyes as you held tight onto your other childhood friend. you were alive. you are alive.

armin found a space on the ground far from any other titans, but you refused to let go.

"armin. i always knew i was going to die by a titan. but it was so scary." he sighed, a started petting your head.

"i know. you're ok."

armin loaded you onto the cart to be towed back inside the walls, as you can hardly stand by yourself. the day passes, but you can hardly remember it. nurses come and go, replacing bandages and ice packs on your stomach, feeding you, and tending to your bruises.

eventually, eren runs in, looking around for you. when he spots you, a relieved look passes over his face. he quickly makes his way over, ignoring the nurses' attempts to get him to stop. kneeling beside you, he fusses over all of the gauze, apologizing profusely for not intervening faster. you jut grabbed his hand.

"thank you." he smiled and placed a small kiss on your forehead.

"YEAGER!" he definitely was going to be lectured for turning into a titan without permission, but this time, he couldn't care less.

jean

this wasn't how the plan was supposed to go. they were supposed to take jean and armin. but somehow, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and taken with armin. you were only in the cart for three seconds to help secure armin's wig, and jean was standing near while mikasa, levi, and connie were helping him look like eren, much to his dismay. But before jean and you could switch places, the cart lurched forward, almost sending you and armin tumbling out. panicked, you look at armin, who urged you to stay with him. maybe the plan could still be salvaged. unfortunately, you didn't have any ODM gear on, no guns, or knives. nothing you could use to defend yourself.

"armin. the plan is going to fail! i don't look anything like eren!"

"it's fine. i'll think of something. don't worry." how can I not worry? after a few minutes, the cart seemed to slow, and two men came around the back with rope. they take a while to tie the two of you up, but after a while, they leave the two of you tied to chairs.

you don’t know where the men went, so you look at armin and try to speak with your eyes. what's going to happen? armin just gives you a reassuring glance, knowing that the others should be coming soon. it wasn't long before the men returned, one caressing armin's (fake) hair, the other advancing toward you.

"you don't fit the description of eren yeager," he said gripping your shoulder. "but you're too pretty to let go. Maybe little eren will come for you, and we can get our reward." his nasty hand begun to make its way down your body, which you tried to ignore. thankfully, before anything could happen, the windows break open, and mikasa throws the first man down. armin and you burst out of the restraints, looking around on where to help. the second man draws a gun at you, but is also quickly stopped when your boyfriend lands on him, after jumping in from the window.

with all of the kidnappers down, jean quickly runs up to you, as mikasa goes to check on armin. he draws you into a hug, which you gratefully return.

"had to take all my fun, huh?" you giggle at his little comment.

"glad a big strong man came to rescue me. thank you eren." jean's mouth gapes open. "HUH? i don’t look anything like that ugly guy!"

you just laugh and press a kiss on his lips. "thanks jean."

marco

panting, you slid between houses, trying to lose this titan on your tail, but it was fruitless. it seemed to sense you, no matter how many times you ran away. this might be it for you. you lost your remaining gas trying to save your squad, but that was unsuccessful too, and now your ODM gear is useless. you tried looking around for any other squads that might be around. nothing.

this isn't how you wanted to go. you at least wanted to be seen, to be remembered in some way. but it looks like you were going to die alone, for a random cadet to find your body when they were doing cleanup. a small tear trickled down your cheek at the thought of leaving your family behind. your friends. marco.

the two of you had gotten together shortly after training. you wonder if he'll know you are dead, or if he'll hold onto hope that you are still alive, just lost. you lean up against the wall of one house you were hiding out in, and try to catch your breath. peering out the window, you see the titan chasing you get held up by another cadet. eyes roaming around for any way out of this predicament, you see a fallen soldier, with their ODM gear in tact. maybe you could make it. holding your breath, you sprint out and quickly try to remove the gas tanks. you start to sweat, knowing you shouldn't be out in the open for so long.

it wasn’t long before you heard stomping heading in your direction. how stuck were these damn tanks? you quickly decide to abandon the tanks, and just run, hoping you can figure out another plan in a quick amount of time. you sprint between houses before you start slowing. the adrenaline was gone, and you were winded. the titan rounds the corner, eyeing you. you start sprinting again, but not before tripping on rubble left by the surrounding buildings. this is it. your legs were so heavy, and your arms too weak. you were tired of running. you hoped marco would forgive you for giving up. just as the titan, starts reaching for you, you hear feet. human feet.

"y/n!" connie jumps from on roof and distracts the titan from the front, when marco jumps from behind, slicing the neck.

you scramble out of the way to avoid the already disintegrating corpse. marco comes and scoops you up, while connie follows behind. once the three of you are safely atop of the walls. marco sets you down, but you don't let go of him. you’re shaking badly, and marco just sits with you until you calm down.

"i thought i was going to lose you," marco whispers. you turn to look at him, and there are tears in his eyes. "but you didn't," you say as you pull him closer. "thank you." you press a sweet kiss on his lips, happy the two of you are together and safe. "you saved my life." marco smiles and you two sit close together before you refill your gas.

too bad you couldn't return the favor in the future.

bertoldt

you glance behind you on your way to breakfast before training. another trainee is following you. the same cadet that has been bothering you for the last few weeks. he's been trying to drag you away from friends to hang out with you, trying to sit down at the table next to you, trying to help you put on the straps for your ODM gear. it was nice at first, to feel like somebody liked you. but now it's just creepy, and you have no idea what to do about it. you're afraid that if you go to a commander, they will think you are wasting their time. it's not like they’ve tried to hurt you.

your friends have noticed it too, and are slightly worried. eren won't let you go to the stables by yourself. mikasa always walks with you. reiner and bertholdt always sit beside you during meals. jean is always by your side at training. you feel a bit like a burden, because your friends have better, more important things to worry about.

today, you are walking by yourself, as mikasa is busy helping eren after he hurt himself. and this stalker seems to have noticed that you don't have your normal bodyguard with you.

the thought makes you a bit angry. does he not think you can take care of yourself? you are one of the top trainees. you can definitely kick his scrawny ass. despite that, you still got a chill up your spine, feeling uncomfortable, so you pick up your pace a little bit. you make it into the dining hall, and see reiner and bertholdt already seated. you take a seat next to berty, and exhale a little bit, trying to maintain your breathing. bertholdt leans over and asks, "are you ok?"

you crane your head to look up at him. "i'm fine. just my little buddy over there decided to follow me here." the two of you quickly glance behind you, and see that your follower had begrudgingly had sat by his friends. reiner leans over, listening to your conversation, "why didn’t mikasa come here with you?"

you scoff. "i can take care of myself, reiner."

"oh no doubt. but, I just don't trust that guy."

"me neither," bertholdt frowns. you smile. you've had a crush on him for a while, and suspect that he likes you back.

"you jealous, berty?" you say, while smirking. he blushes and turns away. "don't be a brat." you just laugh and lean your head against him, which makes him turn an even darker shade. after a hot second, you jump out of your seat.

"where are you going?"

"don't you worry your head off, bertholdt. i'm just going to the bathroom." he pouts a little bit, which you think is cute.

"you shouldn't go by yourself."

"i'll be just fine." you were not just fine. apparently, the cadet was watching you leave, and grabs you, pinning you against the wall.

"is he your little boyfriend now?"

"why does it matter to you?" you say, shoving him away. "you don't mean anything to me, you fucking creep." you try to walk away, but he grabs onto your arm.

"i am her boyfriend," a voice says behind you. "so please, let go of her." the cadet turns, looking at bertholdt, who looked so intimidating, towering over him. "now."

he immediately let go of your arm, and sprinted away.

"oh! are you ok?" you smile at him. "my hero," you say, hugging the literal tree trunk of his body. he places a small kiss to your head. "oh yeah?"

you tilt your head to make eye contact and smile. "yeah. boyfriend."

reiner

this was the first expedition with the scouts, so it was understandable to say you were a bit nervous. of course, you have fought titans before, but you had never been so exposed in terms of no trees and no surrounding buildings. you were riding for a while with a senior member of the scouts, and the two of you rode alongside each other quietly, occasionally breaking the silence for small questions about the mission. the two of you were pretty uneasy, after seeing multiple red flares, but no evidence that there was going to be a retreat.

"squad Leader?" you waited until you heard a small grunt that she had heard you before you continued. "why are we continuing? do you think erwin somehow didn't see our flares?"

"no, I think he saw them. But erwin has a bigger plan in mind."

"oh." That wasn't the answer you were hoping for. but you couldn't express your worries as another member joined you explaining that a flank had been completely wiped out. your partner jumped into action.

"I'll spread the word! y/n! stay here!" she quickly rode off to inform the other parts of the formation. after 5 minutes, you felt a chill down your spine.

you turn towards the member who joined you when you started hearing loud footsteps headed your way. that's impossible! there would have been warning flares if a titan breached the formation. oh wait. the flank has been wiped out.

the footsteps got closer, and soon, your partner is kicked into the air, blood spraying everywhere. time seemed to slow, and you know you have to do something if you want to live. you veer your horse to the right, nearly missing the titan's foot, but in doing that, you fall off, causing your horse to scatter. this is it.

you lay on the ground, not sure what to do next. you can't outrun a titan. there are no trees around for you to use your ODM gear. the titan turns to you, and you lift your head to see where the next attack will come from.

blond hair moves in the wind, and you realize, the titan has a striking resemblance to -

"y/n!" reiner scoops you up, the ends of his ODM gear on the titan's back. While reiner is saving you, jean tries to target the female titan's nape.

"jean!" armin yells. you miss what happens next, because you are tossed to the ground, reiner flying to rescue jean.

your eyes widen when you realize the titan grabbed your boyfriend. you scream his name, but your ODM gear busted when you hit the ground. you don't have time to fix it. you're going to watch him die. seconds seemed like hours as you screamed his name, tears pouring from your eyes. You try to run towards him, but jean was holding you back.

you close your eyes, trying to block out what is happening, when you hear jean gasp. you immediately open your eyes to see that reiner had broken free.

he lands on the ground, grabbing you and armin. you exhale, letting him carry you from the titan.

he's alive. you're alive.

reiner is such a rock in your life. you are so glad you can count on him, knowing he will be there to save you, that he will never betray you.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

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

pairing: jean x angel!reader x marco

wc: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why are you so calm?”

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

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

click here to read my jean fic 🤍

[ukeshik]

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

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

[missglittersmiles]

Sound Mind & Heart CH. 1

AOT Various × Fem! Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"There's life outside the walls."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

Sound Mind & Heart Masterlist

[esthersarahhh]

characters; Marco Bodt x gn!reader, past Jean Kirstein x gn!reader

summary; After Jean’s insensitive rejection of Y/n’s feelings, he starts wondering if he made the wrong choice.

word count; 1,4k (1463)

content warning; my constant switching between you and i 😿

notes; i am SO SO sorry for taking so long with updating 😭 school is really stressing me out!! Do you guys want a part 3? If yes, should it be Marco x reader, Jean x reader, both or something entirely else?

Also important! this is a part 2! so i recommend reading the first part before reading this one. you can find part 1 here

———————————————————————

After your not-so-successful confession to Jean, you’ve pretty much avoided him. It wasn’t all too hard the first few weeks, and since he was still head over heels about Mikasa, i think he hardly noticed.

You’ve spent more time with the other cadets and made good friends with them. You’ve become closer to Marco than ever before. You also still shared the same bed together with Marco a lot. Not necessarily in a romantic way but not entirely un-romantic either.

Most boys in the dorm didn’t mind you there, in-fact they liked your presence, and luckily Commandant Shadis didn’t know because if he did God knows how many laps he’d have you run.

Tonight was a night like every other. As you were walking to the boy dorm you noticed that Jean was walking before you. You hadn't talked to him since the whole '' confession '' thing, and you didn't feel like talking to him now. You just kept walking behind him, hoping he wouldn't hear you. He didn't and he went inside the dorm. The same dorm you were going to.

' Why am I suddenly caring if Jean is there or not? He's been in there while I was as well countless times before. ' You thought to yourself. Did you still miss him? Were you only so close with Marco to drive out any leftover feelings you had for Jean?

No. You couldn't think like that. What would Marco say? What would anyone say for that matter. All of your other friends whom you had told the story to said the same thing Marco said. That Jean is stupid and that you shouldn't try to even befriend him again.

But Jean was lonely too. After what he did both Marco and I had stopped talking to him. Me, because I obviously didn't want to talk to him, and Marco because he wanted to focus on me. Jean didn't have any friends exept for us, and seeing him alone in the lunch barracks broke my heart, one piece at a time.

You shaked off the thought you had, turned heel, and went back to your own dorm. You'd have to apologize to Marco later for not showing up like you promised.

_

You apologogized next morning, as you were eating breakfast in the barracks. Marco said he understood, that even though you hadn't thought about Jean for a while, that doesn't mean you never had feelings for him in the first place.

'' I suppose you're right. '' You said, taking another bite of food.

'' I always am. '' Marco replied which made you snort. Your eyes wandered the hall. You saw Mikasa, talking to Eren and Armin. You saw Sasha, stuffing her mouth with more food than she could chew, and Connie laughing at her. Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner were sitting with Mina, Thomas and Daz just talking and laughing together.

Jean was sitting alone in the fathest end of the hall. His food laid untouched on his plate as he just stared at the table before him. You suddenly felt a deep pit in your stomach as you watched him. He looked so alone. You turned to Marco, only to see him talking to Nac next to us. You figured he wouldn't notice if you slipped out for a minute.

So you did just that. You stood up and walked over to Jean's table. As you approached he looked up from his food and looked at you. You stood there, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to think of what to say.

'' ...You looked alone so I thought I'd ask you to come sit at our table- '' You said but were cut of as he said '' I'm fine! You don't have to pretend to care about me. ''

Half of you wanted to scream at him and make a scene, the other half wanted to be polite to him. The polite half won. '' Well umm.. the offer is open. '' You said and as you were about to turn around and walk back, you turned around again. '' ..Please. '' You looked at him and he looked back at you. He picked up his plate and you frowned in defeat. He was leaving. You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. As you opened your eyes again Jean was standing infront of you with a confused look on his face. Then he started grinning.

'' Are you going to stand there with your eyes closed or are we going to sit over there? '' He said, still grinning. You let out a small chuckle and walked with him over to where you were previously sitting. Marco looked at you and Jean, and then put a welcoming smile on his face.

_

You and Jean were neutral after that. Well, you wouldn't call it neutral. You just said hi to each other when walking past each other, not much more than that. You did however have a conversation with Marco about him.

It was a few nights ago, you were both on the porch just looking at the stars when Marco suddenly said '' Why are you talking to him again? '' it sounded more like a statement than a question and he sounded the slightest bit jealous.

'' To who? Jean? '' You questioned, just to make sure. He nodded in response. '' Well he looked alone and it made me think of before i joined the cadets. I was also alone and no one would talk to me. The only company I had was my family. I didn't want Jean to feel the same lonelyness I did. ''

It was quiet after that. You looked at Marco but he looked away. You finally broke the silence by saying '' Are you mad at me? For talking to him again? '' He still wasn't looking at you but he shook his head no.

'' Then why aren't you saying anything..? '' You ask again. Marco turned his head to face you. He had tears in his eyes. You almost broke down right then and there. Seeing Marco cry was like the world was on fire. You leaned into him and put your head on his shoulder, whilst wrapping your arm around him. He took a few deep breaths and then said '' Do you still like him. '' He sounded like he was about to break out into sobs again.

'' No! Not at all. I.. I like someone else. '' His eyes glistened from the tears. You didn't want to say right out that it was him you liked, though it was pretty obvious that he liked you too. You looked into his eyes and he looked at you, then he leant in and kissed you. You kissed back but it didn't last as long as you would've liked. As you pulled apart you felt the presence of someone behind you.

Marco felt that feeling too and you both turned around, only to be met with Jean. You couldn't quite figure out what Jean was feeling from the expression on his face, but from the fact that he was holding flowers and a handwritten letter, you could tell it wasn't good.

'' Congrats. '' Jean said, unimpressed. He dropped the flowers and the letter, and turned around. He walked away. Not to the dorms, but to be somewhere alone. You picked up the letter and gave the flowers to Marco, so he could hold them while you read the letter.

'' Hi Darling Dearest Dear Y/n. I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I wanted to say this to you in person but Im afraid of what you will say so I decided to write this instead. I haven't been fair to you.

You liked me while I barely talked to you because I was so obsessed over Mikasa. I regret everday that I ignored you when you wanted to talk to me that day. You were still nice to me even after what I did. You invited me to sit with you and even though it might not seem like a grand gesture, it meant a lot to me. Im not asking you to forgive me, I just want you to know how sorry I am. Hopefully we can still be friends, and I would do anything for you to give me a second chance.

-Jean ''

You gave the letter to Marco and let him read it as well. After he read it you said '' I um.. need some time to think about this. Sorry I'll see you tomorrow. '' You mumbled as you walked away, back to the girl dorm.

What do you do now?

[variousxreader]

Send in any and all requests, short, long,

Horror to angst to fluff to smut

Check my pinned for deets

[darklcy]

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 | 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

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

….

….

Is this right?

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

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

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

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

“Mind if I sit here?”

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

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

You swallowed.

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

“Good morning, [Y/N]!”

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

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

“Do you know Marco, [Y/N]?”

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

She sneered, corners of her lips sharp and pointy.

“Uh huh..”

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

“What?”

“...Don’t look at me like that.”

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

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

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

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

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

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

This is hell. 

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

Absolute hell. 

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

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

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

“ARLERT, SERIOUSLY? HAUL SOME ASS!”

You spared a sly peek at the blonde. 

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

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

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

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

“HALT!”

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

It’s fucking hell.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Hand-to-hand combat followed right after.

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

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

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

“Mikasa Ackerman and Jean Kirschtein.”

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

“Hannah Diament and Franz Kefka.”

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

“Eren Jaeger and [Y/N] [L/N].”

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

He cracked a grin. You lightly scoffed.

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

Eren arched a brow.

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

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

“...Depends on how it goes.”

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

You gritted your teeth in pain. Ow ow owww. 

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

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

WHAM

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

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

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

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

“...No.”

Eren sighed.

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

“Ok, I’m up.”

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

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

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

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

BANG

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

“Hey, [Y/N]? Hold on a second.”

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

“..Is something wrong?”

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

“You’re holding it wrong.”

…Huh?

“Pardon?”

He chuckled. 

“Lemme see your aim.”

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

“Now what?”

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

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

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

BANG

…A clean shot right in the forehead.

Your mouth hung open.

“That actually worked.”

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

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

“Why are you so nice to me?”

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

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

A sheepish smile had you tilting your head.

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

Your eye contact trailed off to the side. 

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

Marco hummed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s good to hear.”

BANG

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

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

“Hey, [Y/N, look what I have.”

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

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

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

“Sasha, what are you eating?”

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

“Oh, y’know…jush a schnack.”

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

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

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

“I..uh, ya know. I-”

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

“I ate it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged, a timid smile on your face.

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

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

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

You chuckled, turning over to rest on your back. 

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

[bokutosbabe]

Don't Let Go

Marco Bodt x reader

Cw; angst, Marco survived his lil ol titan encounter, friends to lovers, lovers to strangers, let me know if I missed any!

synopsis; You and Marco met and fell in love while in the scout regimen, but after a brutal injury the Marco you knew is gone.

every good thing has to end terribly. that's how you viewed it, but maybe this time it'd be different.

Marco Bodt was never someone you had been planning on meeting, or even staying friends with. Except, when you joined the scout regiment and saw the happy-go-lucky boy with someone who quite resembled a horse. Of course, you weren’t here to fall in love. You were here to get revenge for your family, all killed by titans. So you’d sit patiently, maybe sit near him at times just to get over him faster, and get over this silly little crush.

Well, that was what you would’ve liked to do, but of course Marco Bodt had other plans. He smiled at you, more than usual, after your first mission together. He talked to you and disappeared from his friend group’s chats to come sit with you by the fire. He became a calming presence to you, one that you were a little too reliant on. 

When you and Marco began dating, it was sweet and simple. Small kisses in passing, late night talks while staring at the stars and simply dreaming of the days before the titans had broken down the walls. You two had actually were from the same district, but lived on opposite sides. You couldn’t imagine Marco growing up on the nicer side of the place that you were always so ready to leave before the world went to hell.

You had been dating for about 3 months before his accident. Before the Marco you had been ever so intimate with had completely changed due to the betrayal of others.

Marco getting severe head trauma was hard. Him being in a coma and having to stay in the hospital bed next to him every night was harder. But hearing him ask who you were when he awoke? That was the hardest. Marco, the man you’d loved more than you thought humanly possible, couldn’t even remember your name. 

That was okay. You’d simply refresh his memory by becoming great friends with him again. Maybe that would wake up the part of his brain that had forgotten all about you and your love towards the man. Except, Marco wasn’t the same at all.

He was stricter, meaner, and colder towards everyone. He still befriended his old group once again, you’d even heard them trying to refresh him on the love that you two had shared one. Yet, he never seemed interested in talking to you again.

You tried and tried and tried. Nothing was waking Marco’s brain from the hidden spot of where it had kept the feelings you knew he had for you.

Oh love, it’s beautiful isn’t it? You were truly in love. At least that was what it seemed. You loved him so much, your heart would beat faster every time you saw his face, every time you heard his voice, every time his hand brushed past yours. But now? Oh… now you look like two strangers. Strangers who never had a story together. Strangers that are insignificant one to another. How could you both? How could you forget all those feelings like this? How could you start over and pretend that never happened? Sometimes, in the silence of the night, under the light of the moon and the brightness of the stars, you think about him. About the ‘us’ that never got to be. About your beautiful love. The memories you got, the places you’d gone, the songs you heard. You miss all of that, You miss him entirely, every single thing of him. That horrible night, you didn’t lose just a lover, you lost a friend. A best friend. How could you ever let this happen? How could you lose him this way? Oh if you only could turn back time and beg a little more for him to stay and not go to find annie, reiner, and bertholdt… maybe, maybe you two could be happy together like you both had wished for.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I HOPE U GUYS ENJOYED MY RETURN TO TUMBLR POST. LOVE U BAES.

[levithestripper]

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

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader

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

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

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

— Eren Yeager

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

— Armin Arlert

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

— Mikasa Ackerman

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

— Jean Kirstein

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

— Marco Bodt

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

— Connie Springer

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

— Sasha Braus

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

— Reiner Braun

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

— Bertolt Hoover

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

— Annie Leonheart

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

— Porco Galliard

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

— Levi Ackerman

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

— Erwin Smith

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

— Mike Zacharias

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

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

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 6

last || m.list

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.5k

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

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

♪ washing machine heart by mitski

➷➷➷➷➷

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Historia squeals and slaps Ymir eagerly on the arm.

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

“You are IN, baby!” says Hitch.

“We’ll see.”

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

“YMIR!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Who the fuck is Levi?” Ymir demands.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok. Meet me during free time?”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

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

“How much do you know?”

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

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

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

“Please me?”

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

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

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

“And you told him…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean stares at you, deadpan.

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

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

“Maybe Pock and Reiner would let you–”

“What, watch?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

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

“You don’t mean that.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobody has ever called me hot before.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did something happen?”

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

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

“My dick scared her away.”

“You... What?”

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

Your brain short circuits. What could possibly—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry. You’re ok?” Marco asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marco’s brows arch. “You don’t say?”

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

“You’re right, sorry, sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

Ymir gives a salute. “Got it, dad.”

“Could you not?”

And they’re bickering again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list

[firefly--bright]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ introducing ; apartment 201 !

⁀➷ jean boy!

has vinyls stacked up against a wall.

proud plant dad (after many failed attempts at it)

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

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

⁀➷ constance springer!

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

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

second year set and film design major in University of Paradis

chronically online but not in a creepy way, he swears

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

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

⁀➷ sasha braus!

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

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

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

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

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

⁀➷ marco bodt!

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

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

coffee addict

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

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

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

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

⁀➷ fic playlist ➷ fic visuals

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

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

line dividers by @peachesofteal

[luvbugs-blog]

underrated character deaths from aot (m version):

marco b.

moblit b.

marlo f.

miche z.