Prompt: Abs & Genderbend

Summary: Eren gets competitive.

Note: Set during training with the 104th

Note2: Both Eren and Mikasa are genderbent.

Note3: Not to be take seriously hehe (◡‿◡✿) [I don't like writing genderbend anything but...the prompts insisted]


It is the crack of dawn and she is running, chest pounding, legs heavy. She knew she was supposed to be sleeping like everyone else in their bunks, and she knew that today was the one of the extremely rare days—there probably wouldn't be another—Shadis gave as a break after yesterday's grueling excursion. Yet here she is, running laps, racing against sunrise.

Hair tied in a ponytail, midriff bared, skin slick from sweat, Eren pushes herself to complete at least 20 more laps before moving on to abdominal exercises.

"Eren," she hears, but doesn't stop.

"Eren," she hears again.

"Eren," Mikasa appears, running by her side. Always by her side, always following her.

"Mikasa…what are…you," she tries to say between breaths.

"What are you doing, Eren?" he asks.

"I'm running…laps obvious…ly," she responds, irritated by his presence.

"Why?" he asks.

She doesn't reply. In truth, her reasoning behind all this is simple, though she would never admit any of it. Eren has seen—maybe even stared at—Mikasa's six-pack numerous times during training when he'd go shirtless. Always the competitive one, she came up with the notion that she should have abs as well. Since then, she had been working out tirelessly on top of their training. The lines were forming, but it isn't nearly as well defined and chiseled as Mikasa's yet. A four-pack at most.

Mikasa places a hand on her arm and pulls her to a stop.

"What the hell!" she snaps. "Mikasa what are you doing?"

"You should rest," he replies simply.

"Stop telling me what to do!" she yells but he doesn't let go of her arm.

"Why are you doing this?" he inquires.

"What do you mean?" she snaps, a little flustered.

"You're pushing yourself," Mikasa replies calmly. "You've been exerting yourself too much lately. We've just gotten back from—"

"That's what you think," she retorts, annoyed. "I can handle myself pretty well, thank you very much. Just leave me alone."

She begins to run, trying to go back to the pace she has set for herself.

"I'll join you then," always the persistent one.