My late hero Eren x reader ( completed )

Silent Watcher: Glimpses From Above And The Unspoken

The aftermath of the proctor incident had rippled through the ranks of trainees like a tempest. Whispers about my strength—how I had subdued the proctor with such force that he reportedly walked with a limp—quickly became the talk of the camp. Some trainees, with a mix of jest and envy, began referring to me as "he-she" in hushed, conspiratorial tones. The moniker was both amusing and disquieting; perhaps my actions had been too extreme.

In any case, the sun's oppressive glare was no longer an issue for me. Instead of enduring the brutal hand-to-hand combat drills, I had retreated to the tall tree where I had once found solace beside Eren. From my lofty perch, I observed the trainees below, with particular attention on Eren as he absorbed yet another punishing blow from Annie. His tenacity, despite repeated defeats, was a curious blend of infuriating and endearing. I couldn't suppress a smirk as I watched him crumble to the ground once more.

Nestled among the branches, the sound of my subdued laughter mingled with the distant chirping of birds, likely going unnoticed. My gaze wandered over the training field,  when my attention was suddenly drawn to a figure standing out amidst the chaos—someone with piercing, icy eyes reminiscent of a man I had encountered long ago. Just as I focused on him, he turned abruptly, as if sensing my gaze. His eyes locked onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I could almost see the faint hint of irritation on his face, a subtle sigh escaping his lips.

How could he see me from up here? And did he remember me? The brief encounter had left an indelible mark on my memory. The clarity of his eyes haunted me, and I found myself grappling with why the memory of him lingered so vividly.

Determined not to dwell on these unsettling thoughts, I shook my head and leaned back against the tree trunk. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, letting the sounds of the training ground fade into a distant murmur, surrendering to the comforting embrace of sleep once more.

Eren's POV:

The ground slammed into me, my legs awkwardly flipping over my head. Frustration bubbled within me. How had I, Eren Yeager, been overpowered by Annie?

"Yeah, Jean, teach her a lesson!" I snapped, my anger evident. It was infuriating to be in this position, and Jean ended up on the ground just like me. If anyone deserved it, it was him.

"I feel accomplished," I muttered, though the bitterness in my voice was hard to miss.

Jean's smirk was tinged with sarcasm. "Why? Because you're gunning for the Recon Corps and putting your life on the line?"

Jean's glib remarks were nothing new. He clung to his easy, carefree existence, never understanding the drive that pushed me.

"Shut up, Jean. I'm just happy, okay?" I shot back, my frustration seeping through. Despite his jabs, the satisfaction I felt was genuine.

Jean raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with mockery. "I wonder why, oh why, little Jaeger is so happy?"

The taunting smirk on Jean's face only sharpened my irritation. Yet, I forced myself to refocus on the training ground, pushing aside the tumult of emotions roiling within me. My thoughts gravitated towards Y/N, her image flashing in my mind—a blush blooming across her face, a reminder of the awkwardness I had nearly dismissed. The impulse to tell her to move on had been strong, but I was tethered by shared experiences too profound to simply ignore. The time to confront our reality would come, but not yet.

Jean's voice cut through my reverie, a low murmur that held a thread of bitterness. "Yeager, face it—you're an ungrateful bastard," he muttered, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

"What's that supposed to mean, Jean? And why are you laughing?" I demanded, the edge in my voice unmistakable.

Jean's laughter was far from light; it carried a dark, almost tragic edge, his face cast in a shadow of deep-seated melancholy. "You're blind to your own luck," he said, his voice tinged with a forlorn sadness. "Here you are, seemingly flirting with Y/N, and I've lost all faith in you. Besides, Mikasa's figure has far sex appeal than Y/N's."

"Jean, you're twisted," I retorted sharply, frustration rising. "And I wasn't flirting. We're preparing to face titans. Romance is a luxury I can't afford. I'm not planning to die."

"Besides, I'm not interested in muscle-women, and I don't date boys," I added curtly, emphasizing my point.

"You don't understand women," Jean re torted, condescension lacing his voice. "You're only sixteen."

Jean's rant about Mikasa droned on, but my attention snapped to a new presence. I turned to see Y/N approaching us with a determined stride, her expression a blend of concern and resolve.

"What was that about me being a muscle man?" she asked, her voice steady but edged with irritation.

"It's rude to comment on people's bodies, Eren—Jean," she added sharply, her gaze unwavering. Then suddenly my fears came true- "Mikasa! Jean and Eren are being assholes!" Y/N called out getting Mikasa's attention.

Mikasa's approach was swift, her anger palpable as she joined the fray. "Eren, didn't I tell you to watch your mouth?"

Jean and I braced ourselves for the oncoming storm. Y/N's fist landed sharply on Jean's face, while Mikasa's precise kick made contact with my stomach. I winced, but Mikasa's rage seemed to ebb as she turned to me, her tone softening.

"I'm sorry, Eren. I lost my temper," she said, her voice unexpectedly gentle despite the fire in her eyes. "Don't apologize, Mikasa. Men who reduce women to objects deserve this kind of treatment." Y/N added curtly.

"But you're the one who punched me!" I protested, my voice rising in exasperation.

Jean, still clutching his aching stomach, managed to groan, "I'm hurt too, you know!"

"Shut up, I don't care," Mikasa said tersely, brushing off his complaints. "Y/N and I need to get back to training now."

As they walked away, I was left grappling with the complexities of their emotions. Jean appeared as though he were on the verge of collapse, his face as pale as a specter.

"Don't go into the light, Jean!" I called out, rushing to his side. I grasped his spirit and wrestled it back into his body. Despite his ongoing distress, my gesture was a feeble attempt at solace. Even a cocky bastard like Jean had his vulnerabilities, and it seemed even he could be ensnared in the tangled web of unspoken feelings.