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angelzai · 2 months

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crush

good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 3.5k

cw: gn!afab!reader, bathing/washing, alcohol, mild hurt/comfort, fluff, implied/referenced self harm, implied/referenced substance abuse, post-dark era, intimacy, explicit sexual content, spitting, soft (ooc?) dazai

reid: this has been sitting a bit and i finally got around to fixing it up :,) sorry again for my absence i am unwell but surviving and i hope to keep sharing with you guys what i can. thank you for all your patience

. . .

He’s never admitted how much he delights in crawling back to your apartment after he’s been gone for too long — long enough to make you worry a little. It’s cruel of him, really, to keep you waiting around so much. But you’re going to be here waiting anyway! So, he figures, why not? It’s a few miles off Port Mafia turf, and you always have hot food and plenty of sake. Not to mention that your hands were the first to ever hold him so gently — to hold him like a lover — and that’s plenty to keep him coming, even if he sometimes takes weeks at a time to find his way back.

It’s always worth it to have Osamu half undressed in your bathroom. A decent meal and the humidity fogging up the tile walls usually melts his resolve just enough so you can work his crumpled white tee off without him sending you any sort of eyes; tonight though, the human spirit is unbreakable. You brush the small of his back as you lift his shirt and it has him hitching his hips toward yours.

He’s truly a sight.

His brown mop is greasy. Accumulated sweat is beginning to force the dramatic lengths of bandages to curl away from his skin. He looks little more than empty and tired, but there’s a shadow of contentedness in his sharp features — you’ve just fed him seafood boil and a couple of Tokyo Mules (heavy on the American vodka), after all.

You reach down and dip your fingers in the filling basin; scalding, how he likes it.

“Drawers off, please.” You poke his chest with a damp finger pad and disappear into the hallway in pursuit of linens.

Dazai sits naked (save for bandages) and curled in on himself on the edge of the bathtub when you return. You stack a change of clean clothes on the sink, and his ankles knock together as he waits for your attention to fall back on him. Your towels sling over the door before you turn to him with your hands tucked together. He looks uncharacteristically meek, not unlike a fawn before it first walks -– the way he only ever does before what happens next.

He holds his arms out, wrists up, and smiles like the sunshine.

You smile back uneasily, appearing much less enthused than he; you know that sunshine smile well enough to know it only ever comes out as a shield. You know no matter how many times you unwrap his dressings, he's always going to hate it.

So, you start with the butterfly clip secured at the crook of his elbow, and you talk.

"I have a slice of tiramisu in the fridge for after."

"From that place I like?" His eyes get wide.

"From that place you like," you sigh, grinning.

"You must've had a feeling I was dropping by."

You usually encourage him to reuse the strips of fabric when possible, sometimes going so far as to let him hide from the city while you take them to the laundromat with your own clothes, but these ones are far past help —barely white, significantly bloody in spots and dirtied in others, so you just ball them up and toss them in the trash. You're stocked anyway, and you reassure him of this by retrieving a few fresh rolls from under the sink.

"Maybe I did."

You finish one arm and move to the other. Osamu lets his marred, bare skin dangle in the air. The sunshine is gone. He’s zoned out. You know he’s protecting himself.

You push his hand down to rest in his lap and your mind selfishly drifts to later, where you hope he'll sleep without his bandages, too — he had traipsed into your apartment lined up to his fingers, and all you had wished for was that you could’ve felt his palms, his knuckles, his nails when he hugged you back. You take as much of him in as you can in these kinds of moments; it’s just the kind of person you are. Damaged or not, his skin is your favorite place to be. You’ve told him this, but it seems to come across much clearer when you look into his sad brown eyes like they’re the only ones in the world while your fingers trace the tracks across his thighs like they��re no one’s in particular.

“So pretty,” you mumble.

It’s so well received this time around that Osamu sinks into the water with barely a shred of apprehension. Granted, he’s still a bit glazed over.

He really snaps to once his shoulders are beneath the water and you’re lathering shampoo — the coconutty one — between your hands.

He speaks your name with an earnest that’s almost mocking. “What are you doing?” But he knows what you’re doing, or what you’re not doing, rather, and he’s not going to let you get away with it.

“What?” Your hands are sudsy and he has the audacity to be yanking at your shirt now. You bat him away as well as you can, flinging some bubbles at him in the process. “What?”

His bottom lip pokes out as his wet hands find purchase around your wrists. Dazai has manipulated a lot of people with nothing but the look in his eye, but it’s never this one; this specific look is reserved for you, and he figures it’s hardly manipulation if he knows you’d enjoy it too. “Get in with me,” he whines, drawing out his ‘e.’

You grumble something about your soapy hands, something about not wasting a perfectly fine handful of your good shampoo, but it just allows him to insist even more on helping you out of your clothes. You sigh, but really, it’s these silly idiosyncrasies about him that make you cry when he’s gone. So, you indulge him. You commence an awkward and wiggly dance in which his fingers stretch your sleeves over your hands with care. You kick your pants off and shimmy out of your undergarments, feigning annoyance as you give into his whims so easily.

The bath is still nearly boiling. You make peace with it by hissing hot, hot, hot, hot, hot (he chuckles at you) until either of your knees are nestled underwater on either side of him. You rub your shampoo hands together and — now that Osamu’s gotten his way for one of many times tonight, for the millionth time ever, never for the last time — he graciously lets you wash his hair.

You inhale all the little hums and sighs he gives you. He tastes like every emotion you’ve ever felt. Heaven is a bathtub in a crummy apartment.

“You smell much better. Let’s rinse.” You go to push yourself up after you’re finished with him, but Osamu grips you unceremoniously and by both of your ass cheeks, so you look sternly into his face.

“Wait, wait, wait, just—” he pleads.

You flick water at his eyes. “We’re wading in your filth, thank you. Get up.”

“Just a second, damn it.” He clutches you closer, hands clasped behind your back, and you settle with shattered resistance against his chest. He mumbles something about who you think you are, telling me what to do.

Not that you try all that hard with him anymore; you both know well he’ll get what he wants, and right now he’s intent on holding you in the cooling water, so you loop your arms around his neck, unable to help the kiss you press to the side of his jaw or the stifled roll of your hips against his.

He’s silent for a moment as he traces the expanse of your back. You hope his eyes are closed. You know they’re probably not.

“Thank you.”

It’s something Osamu says quite a bit. He doesn’t get terribly sentimental often, but it’s usually after you’ve rid him of those wrappings that he comes close. Although, he never says exactly what for. For bathing him. For feeding him. For loving him. You understand well enough.

He’s still a little shit. He squeezes your ass and bites the shell of your ear.

“That’s it,” you yelp. “We’re rinsing.”

His laugh is whole as you pull the drain and start the shower, dodging your (mostly) dry hair.

The promise of dessert lets you get him into a pair of shorts at the very least. Once again you return to him — you wait on him like he’s a prince, and he looks like one on your bed with the blankets pooled around him as he towel dries his hair.

It’s so unfair, you think, how angelic he gets to be no matter what he’s doing. It’s something so mundane; his scars are on display, he’s tipsy and damp and has your plush cat-printed blanket acting somewhat like a cape, yet he steals your breath as you enter your bedroom. To top it all off, he pretends not to notice your presence right away.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, unfinished bottle of sake in one hand, delicate plate of tiramisu in the other, and Osamu finally acknowledges you with owlish eyes, raised brows, and a grin that reprograms the pattern of your heartbeat. He tosses the towel aside, eager, and reaches out.

“This—” his mouth is full, “this shit is…God. Heavenly.”

“Share.”

“Should’ve brought two forks.” He makes a show of lifting the plate out of your reach. You grasp at it lazily, uselessly, and he laughs, taunting you. You’re tired so you hoard the sake in response, which he’s fine with only until the tiramisu is gone — you only got two bites in — and he goes for that as well.

“Greedy!” you accuse, but you can’t help your laugh. You’re warm — the few swigs from the bottle are doing their job, and you let Osamu know this by giving in; you steady his head with one hand, and with your other you press the bottle to his lips and tilt it up. He drinks like it’s cider, and comes up for air with a soft curse.

The way he licks it off his lips wants to draw a gasp out of you, but you’re trained like a skilled gunman when he gives you targets like these — you’ve built up trigger discipline, and there are some things, you suppose, that you don’t let him have so easily after all.

Nonetheless, it’s like Osamu reads this mechanism working in your mind and takes it as a challenge. The bottle is transferred from your hands to his somewhere in the searing kiss he gives you; you fully register a hunger buzzing between you both that has nothing to do with tiramisu as you reach out for him, fumble toward him until you’re in his lap — you almost overwhelm his lithe frame with your tenacity, but he catches you, bottle tapping your back as you engulf each other.

Osamu is sneaky, he is; he never executes even the smallest action without meticulous thought. The way you end up under him might’ve been planned out from the bath, or maybe even before he was on your doorstep — either way, you give way to his weight; the bottle’s in one hand, somehow your wrists are in the other, and his waist connects with yours.

If nothing else predicts what you say next, it’s his restless hand clutching your hip, pulling at your shirt, clawing up your side.

“Missed you,” you slip into his mouth. You’ve already said this over dinner, but it’s different, heavier, when you’re breathing him in. Osamu lifts away from you for a kiss from the bottle. In brief control again, you wring your hands.

He’s statuesque above you. You wish you could snapshot the seconds in which he tilts the bottle back, where his drying hair falls in those loose waves around his angled jaw and his eyelids flicker. You reach out to trace him. His severe collarbone to his lean shoulder, down the thin valley between his bicep and tricep. You ghost around the fingers suspended in midair and bridge the gap to end on his pretty waist.

The bottle disappears onto your nightstand. Your eyes are wide as he grips your chin. He holds his breath, plants an elbow by your head, thumbs your bottom lip — all a means to waterfall the sake into your open, waiting mouth.

Liquor drips off him, into you; how are you supposed to keep from the way your legs demand his hips toward yours? The way you grind into him from below? You’re a live wire and he’s fraying the hell out of everywhere you end and begin.

You swallow what he gives you before he pulls back. You’re breathless, and he’s laughing. He’s laughing. This is what he does — he gets you under him and he laughs, so beautifully that you can hardly be mad, and sultrily enough that you flush pink.

“You should see your face!” he exclaims. Osamu is truthfully at his most joyous when he’s catching you off guard. “Little too filthy for ‘ya?”

“Please,” you scoff, willing him toward you again as you recover, more from the sting in the back of your throat than anything, pressing all your love into each of his mangled wrists with your palms and fingers. “As if that’s the filthiest thing we’ve done.”

“Jog my memory,” he suggests as he puts his smile back to yours, and so you work him out of the shorts you just got him in less than ten minutes ago.

As for yourself, well — you’re only naked from the waist down before you’re working your own slick up and down on him, biting your lip with anticipation, all but pulling him into you. You don’t even care if it hurts, and you almost say it, but you don’t — everything you’re doing is saying it for you — you just want him in you right now, right now, and he touches you between the gasps you draw from him; he watches the way he slides into you like you’re meant for him, like he’s meant for you, and you dig your heels into him as you whisper his name.

“Baby,” he whispers back. Those sad brown eyes flicker, shut, open, find you. “Oh.”

He rocks into you softly, such a contrast from the urgency with which he was kissing you mere moments before. Osamu’s a natural at giving you whiplash, sometimes in ways you didn’t know him to be capable of. He’s concentrated; you watch him, the slightest bit confused as his lips purse shut. You want to hear him, he knows, but it’s all welling up within him, he can feel it on his lash line, so he tucks his face into your neck and hopes you won’t say anything. You don’t, not for bit. You just circle your arms around his neck and groan at the way he grips you, feels you all over; you clench around him and pretend you don’t feel the tears beading along your shoulder.

“Too filthy for you?” you finally tease, but gently; you cup his face in your hands, push his hair from his forehead, and kiss the wetness away. He half-laughs, half-sobs. He obviously wasn’t expecting this. “Oh, ‘samu. Honey.”

“Don’t know what the fuck’s going on.” It’s his way of apologizing. He sniffles and follows it with an explanation. “You feel so good.”

You know they’re not tears of pleasure, but you let him write it off as he fucks into you. “You- uhn- you feel so good,” you echo.

It’s not unusual for him to be vocal — he moans, he gasps, he gives you delicious noises to make up for the words he can’t ever find, but tonight is so different; you don’t know what it is, but he talks. He’s talking, and it’s not the lewd musings you expect from Osamu Dazai, much less while he curls his hands into your hair and begins to pound into you. Yes, it’s much different tonight.

“Missed you too,” he finally gives you. “Missed you. So fucking much- fuck- I’m- oh, fuck…”

“Stop leaving,” you say breathlessly. “Stop leaving me. Just move in.”

“Shit, I might.” His hair is your lifeline. You knot your fingers in it like you hope you become part of it. “Might just have to come home to this every day. Y’take such good care of me. Don’t know wh- hah- what I did to deserve this pussy.”

“Please, please, Osamu.” You’re begging for more than one thing. “Fucking stay.”

So he keeps his pace, staying in one way or another — at least he can say he’s done that much. Whether or not you’ll wake up next to him tomorrow morning doesn’t matter right now; right now he’s fucking you, right now he’s yours, right now he’s ripping himself open a little further to let you see his rotten soul and you’re giving him everything he could never ask for, everything he doesn’t think he deserves — it’ll be enough, you’re sure, even though it’ll hurt when he disappears again; at least you’ll know you opened up in return, reflected his rottenness in the way that you know how. You’ve made a place for him in your home. You’ve made a place for him in your heart. He knows you want him to take it. Take it.

“So pretty, my baby, takin’ it so good.” He looks at you with those wet eyes between pressing bruising kisses to your lips, chin, neck. “Y’feel like fucking heaven. God, fuck. Don’t know if I- don’t know if I deserve it. So fucking good. So good. So good.”

“You d- you don’t have to do anything to deserve it- just fucking stay, please,” you plead with him. You’ll plead with him until he understands. “Oh- Osamu- ah!”

Your hands flail for a resting place — his head is restless with his kisses, his calloused hands and ridged arms are moving too fast for you to keep up with, the expanse of his back isn’t nearly close enough amid his wild pace, so you claw into the peaks of his shoulders and give all your sound and breath back to him while he rains praise upon you. He’s almost frantic in his task, like he needs you to know.

“Need you to know how much I love comin’ back here.” Osamu grabs one of your hands and guides you to your clit. “Touch yourself, please- please- want you cummin’ on me, baby, give it to me. Please.”

He pleads with you until you do.

You’re well aware that everything you can give him might not be enough to convince him. Convince him he’s not rotten. Convince him he does deserve it. Convince him he’s worthy of love. You know the best thing you can do for him right now is rub yourself quick and hard in time with his heavy thrusts. You keep giving him what he needs — you give him all your moans, grunts, curses, and he reflects them right back — you match each other, sobbing, twitching, biting, heaving until the wave rolls over you and you’re collecting him, throbbing around him and telling him it’s all for him, he’s so perfect, don’t stop, it feels so good while he spills into you, fills you up in that familiar way you don’t think you want to live without for weeks at a time anymore. Osamu’s tense as he drags both of your climaxes out for as long as he can; you’re crooning out his name and Osamu’s panting out yours and he’s so beautiful as he cums, he’s so beautiful while he cries, he’s so beautiful when he’s raw and selfish and fucked out of his brain, he’s so beautiful, he’s so beautiful, he’s so beautiful.

“So afraid to hurt you, baby,” he mumbles into your cheek minutes later, half-asleep and tipsy and still pulsing inside you. “You don’t deserve my shit. Get caught up in my shit.”

You don’t care about his shit, is what you tell him in return. You want him. You want to show him all the wonderful things he does in fact deserve.

Like the picturesque breakfast you cook him after you do wake up next to him in the morning. Like the tender way you rewrap his dressings as the afternoon sun gleams in white columns through your window. Like the first day he spends completely sober and well-fed in a long time.

“I don’t know if I deserve it.” All this, he means. You, and how wonderful you are. He says it again and again.

“I don’t care if you don’t deserve it.” You secure the butterfly clip in the crook of his elbow and meet his eyes. Far off. Waning sunshine. “Wanna give it to you anyway.”

For a moment the sunshine returns, and for the first time in a long time, if not ever, you see it reach his eyes. They don’t look so sad. Big, brown, maybe hopeful. Maybe sweet with preemptive regret. You hug Osamu in the still air of your apartment.

“Stay,” you whisper.

He hugs you back, limply, like he’s scared to break you. He trembles out, “I will.”

#bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #angelzai original.ᐟ #devilzai hours.ᐟ

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kagakuoniryu · 2 months

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Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

#writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #angst #alastor angst #x reader #x reader angst #hazbin hotel x reader

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nogenderbee · 27 days

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕎𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Luka, Dan Heng, Welt, and Sampo being called their partner's whole universe?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah, definitely! And omg thank you sm for requesting Sampo because I honestly didn't knew I could have this much fun writing him! I don't even know if he's cannon or ooc buuuut... I had fun! So hopefully you'll like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

Your boyfriend was classically just sitting in his room, reading a book. Meanwhile you sat right next to Dan Heng and just leaned on him, as he caresses your hair, clearly lost in the story, despite it being classical book.

But then you looked up at him, getting sudden urge to compliment your lover a little bit and speak facts as you do!

"Hey Dan~ You're my whole universe, y'know?"

"Don't people normally say 'my whole world'?"

"Just accept the compliment..."

Despite him pointing out something this small, you could see his face gained a little red hue on your statement, clearly not expecting that out of nowhere. And the pointout was obviously just go mask his reaction~

"Well I assume that's fitting looking at how we're Trabilazer's... And... well I can say you're my home."

"Your home? Well that's... still sweet~"

"Notice how I usually prefer to stay at home, the Express than go traveling. It's more meaningful if you look into it."

He said and tried looking away and hiding his cheeks that reddened, but you moving his hair aside definitely didn't made it easy on him... and you finally saw your cold boyfriend, flustered for once.

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@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!

You and Welt were sitting and admiring the views of newly discovered planet. Surprisingly, it had magnificent views! Ones that any previous one could never even come close to. Your boyfriend and you were sitting among the nature, holding hands... it was absolutely perfect! And what better, Himeko did you a favour by watching over 2 energetic kids from Astral Express.

"We'll be going onto yet another planet soon... seems like we still don't know all in this universe, even if we might think so."

"Well I think I already know all about my universe~"

"You do? We're you on all the other planets before joining Astral Express?"

He turned to you with small look of curious and even slightly impressed. You felt almost bad having to crush it but you just couldn't help but he a little bit romantic today it seems!

"No! Not yet~ I meant MY universe! Which happened to be you~"

Upon realizing what you really were after, he couldn't help but chuckle as small, almost unnoticeable pink hue spreaded on his cheeks.

"Why thank you, love of my life. I may not be as romantic as you today but believe me, I care about you very deeply nonetheless."

He leaned in, placing small, soft kiss on the back of your hand and looked at you with pure affection in his eyes. And it seemed like the view you were just admiring just got even prettier~

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@vodka-glrl - come get your father of the express!

It was calm day in the Overworld... untill you saw group of guards trying to find someone... one even asked you if you saw Sampo anywhere since you're often seen together. But you told them no since that was the truth...

But right after they walked away, you felt an arm wrapping around your neck and a flower being held right next to your cheek.

"I knew I could count on you! You'd never snitch on your boyfriend after all? You're just the loveliest person in my life!"

It was your boyfriend acting all sweet and flirty just to get on your good side and possibly, to make you not ask what he did AGAIN... so you decided to respect that and tease him in return~

"Well how could I ever do that for someone who's my whole universe~?"

Sampo may act all smug and sly, but when it comes to you flirting with him... he always catches a blush. And that's exactly what happened in this case as well!

"I- Well of course! You're the sweetest, my dear. I should've expected something this lovely from you!"

He tried hiding his flustered feeling behind his classic charming persona. And despite the fact you could see right through it, you decided to play along and just smile. It was nice hearing something like that from someone! And the information you made him blush may stay for you alone~

"Sooo hypothetically... can I sleep in at your place tonight? I can sleep on couch!"

"What did you do?"

"... Well..."

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You decided to visit Luka during his training session, not exactly on purpose... you were just supposed to pick him up from there and it just so happened you arrived a bit earlier, so you decided to enter while you were there! After all, you were pretty sure he wouldn't mind~

He didn't notice you at first when you entered but he surely did when he was about to grab some water! But he decided to screw that plan because greeting you was much more important to him than that~

"Hey! How's my love doing?"

"Pretty good~ Will you be done soon?"

You said with soft smile as you handed him bottle of water you bought on your way here, which he happily accepted.

"Yeah I'm just gonna go get changed and get quick shower, is that alright?"

"You know I could wait eternity for my universe~"

You replied not breaking eye contact with him as smile was still so very soft on your face. Meanwhile your boyfriend stared back, considering if what he's thinking of is what you really meant... finally he broke the silence asking for confirmation.

"Your... universe? As in me?!"

"Mhm~ I don't see anyone else it could be for!"

You could see him smile like a kid who just got his favorite candy when you confirmed his thoughts. He even gave you a quick hug... this time only short since he was still a bit sweaty from his training, but either way too happy to not show his love towards you.

"Awwwh, thank you!! I promise to make you proud as your universe! I'll think of some nickname for you as well! Just give me a second, I'll take a shower and I'll be back with something!"

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xnxthinglastsfxrever · 8 months

Text

// Replies will be on hold, I had a car accident today and I've been pissed off since then.

#out of vodka || ooc #psa #PEOPLE DONT FUCKING LOOK ANYMORE #STOP RELYING ON THE FUCKING BACK UP CAMERA AND FUCKING TURN YOUR FUCKING HEAD TO LOOK!!#FUCKING PEOPLE OVER THE FUCKING AGE OF 80 SHOULD NOT BE FUCKING DRIVING #PINCHE #DU MA CON DI CHO

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chuuyasheaven · 9 months

Note

If you ever write that drabble i would devour it right away 🙏🙏

“— Fyodor likes fucking you, really, but deep down he actually despises those sinful acts. So he had to come up with a solution, right?”

Tags: Fyodor Dostoevsky / fem! Reader, slightly drunk! Reader, doggy position, mixture of praise / degrading kink, pet names, rough sex, creampie, mentioned religiousness?, alcohol, slight breeding kink?, might contain grammar errors, rushed, ooc!, short?, etc.

Notes: Well, guess what?? I cooked so you can devour it, pookie !! :p

It was one of those nights, those nights where Fyodor decided to sin. Tonight, he gave you some wine mixed with vodka to intoxicate you, from that point you knew what he was doing. Even while you were getting drunk, you could tell by him starting to get touchy with you. When he decided that was enough, you lured you to your shared bedroom.

Fyodor let you fall on your back as he smirked at you, you looked so pretty like this, how couldn’t he? “Such a pretty darling..”, he whispered to you, his hand was slowly but gently caressing your thigh, moving it towards your panties.

You were getting eager now, you wanted him so fucking badly, probably from the alcohol. Then he slid your panties down to your ankles. “Getting impatient, aren’t we, myshka? Well, only good girls will be rewarded.”, Fyodor chanted, not wanting to wait any further, you looked at him with puppy eyes to beg.

“N-no, I’ll be a good girl! Please, I need you.”, how could he resist, you just looked so cute and eager like this! “Oh? Okay then, be good and get on your fours, dear. Show me how much of a good girl you be..”, just like the obedient girl you were, you got on your fours, ready to take him.

He let out a small hum of satisfaction before freeing his cock, he rubbed it a few times before entering inside your walls. It felt all so warm and wet, just how he loved it. “Also, p-please try to gentle at first..”, he’ll try.

Fyodor let his hands rest on your hips, getting ready to fuck you senseless. When you gave him the go, Fyodor started to thrust into you, gently at first, until he started to get rougher with each thrust. Now, come on. Don’t act like you haven’t taken him multiple times before, perfectly at that, too! “—Come on, darling, stop pretending like you haven’t done this before. We both know you can handle this, so just take it like my good little slut..”, as Fyodor degraded you, you felt yourself get turned on by this. His grip got slightly harsher as he fastened theJust because of that, pace, yours on the sheets did too.

All you could hear were moans and skin clapping from you both, well, the moans were mostly yours because all what left Fyodor were grunts. “Just like that, angel. Take it like the good girl you are.”, at this praise made you get closer to your long awaited release.

“—Ah! I’m g-getting close, Fyodor..”, you moaned, stating your soon-to-be arriving orgasm. Just because of that, he started to thrust into you deeper, trying to find your spot. And soon, he found it, so repeatedly hit it. It felt so amazing, your knot was going to snap faster, your body made that clear enough for Fyodor. He could feel you pussy clench around his cock, signaling your orgasm’s coming. (pun intended!!)

Fyodor bent down to your level to whisper you something in your ear. “You could hold it, right? Let’s cum together, alright, dear?”, you wanted to be good for him, so you tried to edge yourself to finish with Fyodor.

It didn’t even take so long either, about a few minutes he filled you up so nicely, just as you gushed around his dick. It was quite a lot since some it was leaking past your cunt. He really enjoyed that view, but he couldn’t just leave it all go to waste!

“—Hm, that’s quite a lot, isn’t? What a pity that it’s leaking.. How about I’ll fill you up so nicely that you won’t remember tomorrow?”

Kinda sucks, but it’s alright-y..

#bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #bsd fyodor #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader

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cmncisspnandmore · 6 months

Text

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar.

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk.

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face.

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again.

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it.

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water.

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him.

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap.

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass.

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap.

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin.

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow.

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together.

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose.

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth.

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin.

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you.

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers.

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…”

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent.

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie.

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.”

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod.

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?”

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots.

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin.

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks.

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you.

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date.

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would.

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us.

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.”

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.”

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked.

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights.

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it?

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks.

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door.

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots.

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses.

“Water is okay,” Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass.

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water.

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.”

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..”

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life.

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle.

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment.

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears.

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips.

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning.

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face.

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

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urrockstar-xe · 6 months

Text

detective sweetheart - n.a x fem!reader

posted nov 3rd, 2023 12:22 am

this was what i did for my "based on my day" challenge (i spent it watching svu season 14 lmfao) its also my first time writing for nick amaro or any detectives in general so I'm sorry if he's a bit ooc, its also a crossover with criminal minds and i think i made up the whole technical analyst assistant thing but that's my job in my criminal minds DR lmfao. hope you enjoy :)

this includes alcohol (reader consumption), use of Y/n, and possibly wrong wording for FBI stuff?? the reader likes children (in a not creepy way). Jennifer Jareau

summary: the BAU's technical analyst assistant develops quite the crush on SVU's detective Nick Amaro

masterlist

word count: 0.8k

You sat quietly in a bar, sitting amongst a group of FBI agents you knew well and a few detectives you’d just recently had the pleasure of meeting, chatting about the now-closed case and a few chatting about their children, you hadn’t spoken much, too busy trying not to stare at Detective Nick Amaro.

“Detective Amaro, this is Y/n L/n, she’s our technical analyst assistant, our official technical analyst is back at Quantico focusing on another case” Your boss, Aaron Hotchner, introduced you to one of the detectives you’d be working with for a necrophilia serial killer case,

You two spent the last few days working very closely together on this case.

Penelope had been working on another case and due to a small fire that you and Penelope accidentally started with a candle in your already small office, Hotch decided to bring you with the team to Manhattan.

And of course, with your luck, Penelope couldn’t be there to fangirl over the hot detective with you, so you had to deal with the consequences of your short attention span all on your own, (granted our beloved Spencer did try to relate and fangirl with you, he did his best, but he was quite busy getting into conspiracy arguments with Sergeant John Munch).

Now that the case was over, Hotch decided that the team was in no rush back to Quantico and could leave in the morning, so while he called in early and left back to his hotel, the rest of you went out with some of the SVU detectives,

Including Nick

of course.

“What about you? Got any kids?” Nick asked, accidentally snapping you out of your trance, as he handed JJ back her phone after she showed him a photo of her boys.

“Oh, uh”

fuck, he smelt good, why did Derek have to sit you right next to him??

“No, no kids, I do adore them though” You smiled in a way you hoped wasn’t too awkward, before Emily spoke up “She’s great with them too! I mean they just love her”

Nick smiled at that, nodding as Emily talked.

You laughed awkwardly in response, “she’s exaggerating” you whispered just loud enough for Nick to hear, earning a laugh.

oh my god, he LAUGHS?

“As much fun this has been, I’m gonna call it a night” JJ announced, standing up from her seat, her actions mirrored by Spencer as he agreed.

They were shortly followed by Olivia, Fin, and Emily. Derek went home with a pretty girl (obviously) and finally, Rossi left with Rollins, after she offered him a ride back to the hotel.

That left, you and Nick, alone

of fucking course

“So, miss L/n, how was your first time in New York, huh?” He asked, taking a sip of his bourbon or was it whiskey? Maybe scotch? You couldn’t remember

“Oh, you mean besides the corpse-loving freak? Pretty great, thanks for asking, Detective.” you joked, feeling less intimidated thanks to the vodka cranberry sitting in front of you.

He laughed, “Yeah, dumb question” he shook his head almost embarrassed but you were eating it up.

“How was your first time working with the BAU, hm?” Nick smiled as you practically hummed the question, he thought it was cute, and you could tell, which only boosted your confidence.

“Gotta be honest, I was worried you guys would swarm in and take everything over but, it was a lot easier than I expected” You nod in response,

“A lot of people think that, but typically it’s an ego thing. was it an ego thing for you, Nicky?” The nickname had slipped off your tongue with ease as you teased your schoolgirl crush, having called him that just a few days ago when you first started working together.

Nick scoffed, “What? No, absolutely not” but the small smirk on his lips was a dead giveaway. “Okay, maybe it was kind of an ego thing, just a little bit” he whispered his confession. You all but giggled in response

“It’s gettin’ late, what do you say I walk you back to your hotel huh?” he offered, standing up and putting his coat on before reaching for yours

“I’d like that, thank you, Detective” You smiled, standing from your seat and sighing as he carefully put your coat on for you.

The hotel wasn’t far but god you wished it had been, it would’ve given you some more time to flirt with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life

(exaggerating? Pft nuh-uh)

But yet, here you stood, in front of the tall building that ruined your excitement.

“Hey, uh how would you feel if the next time you were in New York, I took you out?” Nick asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his tie hanging loosely around his neck.

You smiled, hoping the lights surrounding you both hid the blush on your cheeks instead of accentuating it. “Or if you’re ever in Virginia?”

He smiled, nodding.

“I think I’d like that a lot” You responded, quietly, suddenly very sober.

“Great, have a safe flight back home, alright?”

it's already over

“Thank you for walking me back, Nick”

“Anytime, goodnight, sweetheart” he smiled once more.

Sweetheart

“Goodnight, detective”

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #nick amaro imagine #svu imagine #law and order svu imagines #nick amaro fluff #nick amaro #Spotify

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bugs1nmybrain · 6 months

Text

Fruity Drinks: L x Reader - Drunk Sex (Minors Don't Interact)

Writer's Notes: Can you tell that I'm running out of ideas? First Shigaraki's stoned smut and now L's drunk smut. I don't encourage substance use!! It's just funny to write about with my favorite characters.

Warnings: VERY ooc L, silly L, fem reader, alcohol use, drunk sex (L and reader are both drunk), the reader is described as a young adult, oral sex (m and f receiving), 69, no penetrative sex, comedy smut sorta, lame and cheesy but kind of fluff ending

How L ended up agreeing to this little arrangement was beyond him. It wasn't that he had never consumed alcohol before. There were a few times when he'd buy a sweet drink from a nice restaurant when he went out. Drinking enough to get drunk, though? L couldn't recall ever doing that. He hated the idea of his judgement and self-control being impaired.

However, he had recently solved a very internationally significant case. You insisted that he and you should celebrate. L didn't really understand the point, he solved cases left and right all the time. He had so many under his belt that it didn't necessarily add to his notoriety anymore. In actuality, though, you simply wanted a night where you and L felt like two typical young adults, wanting to have some fun and loosen up. His solving his latest case was merely an excuse, a poor one in L's opinion.

So you and him sat in one of his more cozy rooms at his house. The room was big and decorated nicely. You questioned if L had chosen the interior design or if it was how the room was before he purchased the house. Or maybe a product of Watari's doing? Themes of white and gold rained prominent throughout the room, which added to the novelty. In front of you and L were many drinks, accompanied by juices and soda that you thought would make the drinks more tolerable. L expressed to you that he could hardly bear the taste of alcohol, so you made sure to accommodate him with some easier options.

"So, it must feel nice to have gotten that case out of the way," you comment.

A part of L was agitated by that question, perceiving it as petty small talk. "Yes, it is. Admittedly, every time I solve a case, I feel disappointed knowing there's no more to uncover from said case; that the war has been won. The satisfaction from my victory is more to compensate for it, though. I'll just have to go searching for another, now."

"Mhm. Did you have any ideas on what drinks you were interested in?" you asked.

"Hard to say. Something sweet, for sure."

"No need to over-explain yourself. I'm sure it'll be perfectly fine."

You chuckle at his very obvious statement, "I could've guessed that. I heard that vodka cranberries were sweet, so I chose stuff for that, if it's alright. I will warn you that I am not someone who mixes drinks often. I kind of don't even know what I am doing, but I tried coming prepared."

So you continued to pour L a drink, mixing vodka and cranberry juice like an amateur bartender. You also made yourself one, hoping that the matching drinks would provide some nice bonding between the two of you. When you were done, you handed your lover his drink and he held the glass with his pointer and thumb, eyeballing it for a moment.

"This would have been nice with some cherries," he comments.

"I'll remember that for next time," you chuckle, taking a sip from your drink.

L began drinking his beverage as well, furrowing his brows at the sting of the alcohol in his throat. You eyeball him, finding his face of discomfort adorable.

"Are you alright?" you ask.

"Yes, love. It's not as bad as I thought. I think the cranberry juice dilutes the taste of the alcohol, but there's still a burning sensation."

"Makes sense."

"Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"To have fun. Loosen up a little."

"Ah, I see. You know that I'm not one to do this sort of thing. Especially not anything that would impair my reasoning abilities."

"I know. Is it okay? We can stop if you'd like."

"I didn't mean that, exactly. Honestly, I'm a little curious to what you are like while intoxicated. Is that strange of me to say?" he questions, giving you an engaged expression.

"That's true, though. Perhaps I should indulge your curiosity. You deserve the privilege for being such an outstanding girlfriend, " he eyes you with a neutral expression.

You blush and laugh a bit, "No. I don't mind that."

Honestly, L being nosy was something that was a surprising turn on often.

"I actually wanted to see how you'd be, honestly. I've never seen you drunk or high or anything like that and I was curious on how your behavior would shift."

"You're the perfect psychologist."

You chuckle abruptly in response.

You laugh at his compliments, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing his admiration for you. L continues to drink his vodka cran, watching you as you drink yours as well.

------------

About an hour rolls by and you and L are absolutely hammered. This was a surprise for sure. L had never submitted to this kind of lack of cognitive control, and you had surely never seen this side of him.

The two of you hadn't simply sat there and drank. You had turned on some crime documentary and sat side by side, with your form leaning onto his shoulder. L seemed to really be enjoying his drinks, as he downed one after the other. It was actually very concerning. In truth, he just really liked the taste of them and you two hadn't gotten snacks.

It seemed that L could hold his liquor quite well, and he did when he was simply watching TV. Until now. You sat as the documentary began to give the viewers options as to who they thought the suspect was in the series of murders. L went from dead quiet to deeply and prominently vocal, so much so that it startled you.

"It's him. How..? A seven year old could guess who the murderer is...that one-uh-guy."

Your eyes shot wide open and you tried your hardest to hold in a laugh.

"I'm shutting this off," L announces, clumsily reaching for the remote. He grips it sluggishly and flicks the tv off, slouching back onto the couch. He still sat in his typical position but with his head titled to the side, looking as though he was about to fall over.

You hadn't exactly processed your own intoxication up to this point. It was terribly difficult not to hold back your laughter, and ultimately, you failed. You let out the most uncensored laugh, and L shot his face your way with his finger pressed to his lip.

"What's funny?"

"You. You're cute."

"Oooooh. Yes, you tell me that very often."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh no need..my love. You're, quite "cute" yourself. Did you know that?"

Your flustered face beams a glow, both from the alcohol and your embarrassment. You continue to chuckle for way too many seconds. You sat rigidly in response, thighs pressed together and hands on top of them.

"You..."L begins. You could tell that him never being drunk before contributed to his very apparent intoxication.

"You're so pretty. Your hair,,, and your eyes...you're..how did I manage to end up with such a beautiful lady?? You're so gorgeous, Y/N."

He was plastered. This was hilarious. You thought he was lying but when you looked at him and saw his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, along with his finger teasing his lips, you could tell he was genuine. He was cute, so much so that you couldn't control more flustered laughter escaping your lips.

"Am I funny?" L asked. You couldn't tell if he was insulted or not. You hoped that it wasn't the case, as your laughter was far from out of a malicious nature.

"Yeah. I think you're the funniest person I know. You make me laugh without even meaning to, like all the time."

"Hmm...you like me that much? Do I have really have that affect on you?"

Even though you were very drunk, you could hear the tone of his voice become rather flirtatious, though uncoordinated.

"I've noticed, Y/N. You're rather addicted to my attention. And when you look at me, your face lights up. Your body tenses. Your speech becomes stammered. I'm not referring to the alcohol, nuh uh. You love me."

"Yes, of course, I love you. Why wouldn't I?"

You felt hurt a little, so you held your head down. It made you upset, because yes, he was a rather sneaky and occasionally manipulative partner. He wasn't harsh or anything, or trying to corrupt you, at least you thought. But he would try and pry out information and reactions from you, and get you to say things that would help him understand your tricks and own manipulation tactics.

"Because I am a treacherous, inhumane liar. Who's to say..I'm not lying right now? About how pretty you are, hm?"

L is always a thousand steps ahead of you, easily picking up on your suspicions of the genuineness in his compliments.

"Lovee...don't frown. I didn't meaan that. I actually, have proof. That you're pretty."

"Huh?"

"Yes. Do you want to see the evidence?????"

The drunkenness of yourself and his slurred speech confused you and so you cocked an eyebrow and let out another, "Huh?"

"Come here..Sit right here, next to me."

So you complied. You scooched directly next to L. He reaches to cup your shoulder and presses you close to him. He takes your hand carefully and sets it down over his crotch. Your heart jumps at the touch of his stabbing bulge, straining against his jeans.

"You see, do you see my point?"

You could feel his point, for sure. An unexpected moan escapes your lips, and you can feel yourself become wet instantly from the knowledge of his attraction to you. It didn't help that you loved his cock, either. You feel incredibly embarrassed at the noise you made uncontrollably, and bury your face into your hands.

"No, don't do that, my love." He takes your hand and sets it on his bulge again. "I want you. Would you be willing to indulge me? In your beauty?"

"Mmmmm...yea. Yea, I'd..like that a lot," Your verbal communication has gone out the window and you are unable to manage your composure at all. "Y-yes..yes please..."

"You're so cute," without much warning, L crawls on top of you, fumbling as he does so. He hovers over you and looks you in the eyes for a moment as his hair falls downward. With lustful, lidded eyes he makes his way to kiss the nape of your neck. Even intoxicated, he manages to maintain his romantic and calculated movements, even if they are a little sloppy.

"Mmm!"

"That's it..."

L's desperate need for stimulation encourages him to grind his clothed cock on your thigh for relief. He groans as he kisses your neck, lightly nipping at it. Your gasps cause him to twitch in his pants and he yearns out in painful arousal.

"Mmm, you're soooo pretty. Can I see your breasts? They're so nice. I want to see them."

It was a little humorous when L would talk about your body. He hardly used slang terms, such as tits. His use of clinical language was cute, though awkward. You nod with an eager, "mhm."

It took him a bit to remove your shirt and unhook your bra. Surprising for him, L is usually so good at coordinated actions. Once you were exposed for him, he merely stared at you for many seconds, cock pulsing at the sight of you.

"Oh my goodness," he comments, making you embarrassed.

You can feel your face flush and grow hotter and hotter, as well as your cunt. You couldn't help it when you began squirming your thighs together in arousal, and L let out a sigh at the impact of your movements against his erection. His penis was painfully sensitive, perhaps caused by blood flow from the alcohol.

You gripped his pants, pulling the hem to release his member so you could touch him. You tuck your hand under his waistband and wrap your fingers gently around him. He sighed heavily as you stroked him clumsily. His hips rocked himself into your hand, basking in how good it felt.

"Are you,, do you feel good?" you ask with a slurred tone.

"You have no idea."

He continues nipping at your neck. His hands were relentless, searching for any part of your body to squish or tease.

"Are you turned on?" L asks with a tone of voice that makes him almost sound guilty. He knew full well he was losing control of his gravitation toward you and perhaps wasn't being the most romantic or courteous.

"How about you look for evidence?"

"Hmm.."

L did just that, hand slipped into your pants to feel your pussy. When he discovered you had a hot, wet secretion that drenched you, he slowly plunged two fingers inside out you. You whimper in tension, but once he began rubbing your special spot, your body relaxed to his touch.

His fingers pulled out, making sure to rub your clitoris a bit. The lubricant from your pussy made his motions much more fluid. Fuck, even while he was hammered he was so precise. Sloppier than usual, but still knew exactly what they were doing.

"I...i want to taste you so badly right now," he yearns as he stops fingering you. He begins moving his way down to your crotch but you grip his hair before he can make it.

"I want to..to make you feel good, too. Let me do it to you."

"What? No. I want to bury my face in you, like right now. I don't have time for your mouth."

wow.

"I think people do like, 69? Right?"

"I'm not extremely educated in that department. But...that could be nice.."

You and L exchange a few more lusty kisses until he pushes you to lie on top of him. "You should turn the other way, right?"

Without a response you turned your body so that your ass was facing him. Your cunt hovered above him, to which he glanced at for a few moments. He cupped his hands around your ass and pulled you down so that your heat was pressed against his mouth.

You yelp quietly at the contact. You hadn't ever tried 69 and the position was rather vulnerable. However, the way L was devouring your cunt made it clear he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

He lied down with his legs crunched so that his knees were bent. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few tender strokes and finally stuffing it in your mouth. L moaned against your pussy, enhancing the stimulation. He sucked on your clit vigorously while holding you in place.

L was interesting in that he adored eating you out. You felt bad as if you were a burden for wanting that kind of pleasure. He never objected, though. He had a pretty significant oral fixation, and running his tongue along your cunt was strangely soothing. Plus, the added bonus of the pride he felt when he made you cum was incredibly rewarding.

Blowing him was kind of difficult right now. Your mouth had a hard time coordinating, but you managed to bob your head along him. He must've been enjoying it by the muffles he made against your cunt. L's cock was a bit long, which made taking his whole length tricky. His hips jolted forward on impulse, gagging you a little.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's..okay," you said in between kisses along his cock. L wanted to chuckle at how you were treating his length, but he was far too concentrated on making you cum. You were taking a little longer than usual, but it was alright. L simply thrust his fingers inside of you for a bit and rubbed your G-spot.

He could feel himself building slowly, and he wondered if he could make the two of you orgasm at the same time.

"Mmfm...you taste incredible," he comments. "You're so pretty down here, too."

L's praise always made your heart jolt a little. Sometimes you questioned his sincerity, but he seemed to want you to feel good about yourself for whatever reason. It still made you feel validated nonetheless.

You hummed on his dick in a pleasant response. L kept running his tongue along your clit in consistent motions, and you can start feeling your cunt quiver. L knows, recognizing the way your pussy twitched in his mouth. A smirk grazes his face as your cunt spasms in convulsions and you have to pop your head up for air as you mewl uncontrollably. L allows himself to let go as well as his cum spurts out onto your face while you gave him a mess as well.

You and L both were panting, absolutely overwhelmed by your sensations. An instant exhaustion washed over and you collapsed on top of him.

"Come here," L requests. You pull yourself to face him and L kisses you deeply, not caring about the swapping of genital fluids. "Tonight has been very pleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hehe...I suppose. That felt very, very good."

"I thought so, perhaps we should do that more often."

"What about the drinking, should we do that more often?

"Honestly, I'm not the biggest fan. I feel very out of control of my inhibitions," he admits. Tonight was surely fun, though.

"That makes sense."

"I liked tonight though. And I'm happy I got to spend time with you."

"Me too," you fall on L's chest, and if he wasn't so drunk, he'd probably leave once you fell asleep. But he let himself drift along with you this time, enjoying your warmth. You were already sleeping, but he planted a kiss on your temple and allowed himself comfort in your love for him.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet

155 notes · View notes

jaegersdevil · 9 months

Text

vodka problems – eren jaeger

Modern!Eren x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sasha and Connie throw a party, and all the exciting things happen at parties! OR in which you and Eren are exes, and it's the first party you both attend after the break-up.

w/c: 5k+

warnings: maybe ooc eren (because idk how to write him yet, yikes), angst, alcohol, dissociating, c-word (3 whole times), swearing, anxiety about the future & love, maybe some errors, and a rushed ending because i had no more ideas. a/n: this isn’t how i thought this would go, but it’s how it turned out so, enjoy.

You were going to kill them. Nothing could sway you from doing so. Sasha Braus was about to be your first victim, and Connie Springer your second. The plan was already brewing in your mind: promise them an all-you-can-eat buffet, take the pair to a warehouse, blindfolded, get them into a position where the method of execution could be performed (you hadn’t thought that far ahead yet), and then strike. Quick and easy, and nobody would be surprised; they couldn’t even be convinced to go in the first place because you’d already said this to their faces.

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Sasha exclaimed, rolling her eyes. You glared at her from your spot on her bed and then at Connie, who sat on the floor against the wall across the room.

Connie laughed manically. “She’s gone insane!”

You shook your head, clenching your fists to stop the slight shaking of your hands. “Guys…”

At the sound of your exasperated tone, Sasha threw a lone throw pillow at Connie’s face, and the pair stopped teasing.

“Listen,” Sasha started, sauntering toward you. “We can’t just… exclude him from our group get-togethers because you broke up.”

It was the truth you had accepted a month ago, yet it was like a thousand needles in your stomach when Sasha said it aloud. You nodded, your gaze finding your hands.

“I’m sure he feels the same right now,” Sasha looked over her shoulder at Connie, who shrugged. The former rolled her eyes again and turned back to you. “Or at least, I hope he does. Asshole.”

“Hey! It’s not like he’s been sleeping around! Eren’s a good guy,” Connie’s face screwed up in an angered expression at the thought that his closest friends were talking wrong about his other friend. “Just because he’s not hung up on this doesn’t make him an asshole!” He stood up, Sasha facing him.

His last comment made your eyes weary. The one thousand needles tripled.

“We know that! But-–” Sasha tilted her head in your direction. “Let girls talk shit, okay? It was a bad situation.”

Connie cringed at the mention of the aftermath of your and Eren’s breakup. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/n is allowed to react the way she is because girls can feel emotions without being overdramatic.”

“What about killing us? You said she was being dramatic.”

“I mean, threatening to kill your friends is a little…” Sasha glanced at you. “But everything else! I know what you boys have been saying, and it’s not only hurtful to Y/n but to me! And Mikasa! Girls, in general! Just because Eren moved on so quickly doesn’t mean Y/n has to! She has every right to feel the way she does. I was like this for months when Nic and I broke up!”

“That was a different thing, and you got back together.”

“Besides the point!”

“Sasha?” You pipe up, tired of watching your friends argue over you.

The two twist their heads toward you, forgetting you were there. Sasha’s eyes softened when she saw the dejected look on your face.

“I’m just gonna go,” You wring your fingers. “I’ll see you tonight, though. Yeah?”

Connie opened his mouth to say something, but Sasha elbowed him. “Yes, we will be seeing you tonight. Glad you’re coming.”

You got up from the bed, and Sasha hugged you.

“Bye, Con.”

“Bye,” Connie replied solemnly.

As you left the room, you heard a smack. “Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up, Springer?”

You left their shared apartment—where you would return later.

—

7:29 pm

Hearing the elevator ding, you turned towards the opening doors; the smell of sweat, alcohol, and weed hit you in the face as you exited. Despite Sasha and Connie’s apartment halfway down the hallway, the music and scents spilled out their front door.

You held the bottle of Chardonnay you had brought loosely between your fingers, the effects of the other bottle of wine you had downed before coming hitting you straight on: liquid courage and all that.

You opened the door without knocking and stepped into Sasha and Connie’s apartment. Music made the floor vibrate, which was ignored due to your inebriated and gloomy state.

“Y/n!” Hands on your shoulders, and the familiar ecstatic energy of your best friend drew you out of your daze. “You’re here!”

“I’m here!” You laughed bitterly, although the previous unwanted anxiety and feelings towards tonight were already dissipating.

“Oh jeez, you’re already gone,” Sasha shook her head disapprovingly. “Tch, should’ve kept you here from this morning.”

You disagreed. “No! See, I wouldn’t have brought us a bottle if I stayed here. This is for nobody else.”

Sasha’s grin grew wider. “Thank you!”

You lifted the bottle towards her face, giggling. Sasha snatched the bottle out of your hand as soon as it was close enough and uncapped it, all in one motion.

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the now half-empty bottle in her hands. “Sash!”

She held the bottle out of your reach and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. “I think the boys are in Connie’s room, but don’t worry, I won’t take you to them.”

You knew who the boys entailed, and you were beyond grateful.

“Annie, Ymir, and Historia are in the living room, playing some board game. I don’t know who does that at a party, but they’re having fun…” Then she looked behind you. “Oh! Marco,” Sasha pushed you backwards slightly. “Get Y/n a drink. I gotta pee.”

You stumbled back into a tall figure, spinning around to meet your friend. “Marco!”

The freckled boy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Y/n! What would you like?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Make me a mimosa? Mr. Bartender?”

Marco laughed and reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard unit beside you. “Of course, Miss. Any special requests?”

You eyed the Grey Goose on the counter, not thinking twice about your answer. “Hold the vodka, please.”

Marco blanched as he poured sparkling wine into a cup. “Oh, yeah, okay. No problem.”

You folded your lips between your teeth at the awkward air settling between you, and you didn’t think your response through before it slipped out. The music from the living room speakers, paired with the clink of a spoon on glass, was the only sound in the kitchen.

It was no secret what had happened between you and Eren—the entire friend group had been there to witness it, which was the worst part. A party, a few bottles of vodka, and insecurities from both sides were at play that night. It was a recipe for disaster, and it just so happened that you and Eren were the casualties, along with friendships that were becoming more strained as the weeks passed. It didn’t help that you or Eren were often missing from group gatherings when the other was present, but somehow, Sasha had managed to get you in the same apartment as him for a night. It was either a master plan that could save the group or cause it to dismantle completely, and nobody wanted that.

“Here you go,” Marco said, pushing the glass across the counter.

Tears welled in your eyes at his sudden distance. “Thanks, Marc.”

At the sound of your teary voice, his eyes shot toward you. “Hey, hey,” He reached for you, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. No crying tonight, okay? Nobody hates you, I promise. You are as much a part of this group as he is. You are not allowed to leave.”

“Who said I was leaving?” You mumbled into his chest, tears dampening his t-shirt.

“People talk,” He replied, rubbing your back. “And a little Sasha told me you mentioned the group would be better without you.”

You sniffled and laughed, eyes watery. “Can you blame me? Mikasa hasn’t spoken to me in a month, and Armin only says hello when he has to. I can’t keep putting myself through that. I don’t want to lose more friends over this.”

“If I were a nice person who cared about your well-being, I would tell you to leave us ASAP. But since I’m not, I need you to stay, okay? Who else would I make mimosas for at these ‘parties’?”

You laughed and pulled away. “Nobody.”

“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed. “And just you being here tonight tells me you don’t actually want to leave.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“No guessing about it,” Marco stepped back. “You are staying. Now,” He clapped. “Wanna join the losers in the living room for a game of Monopoly?”

You nodded, sipping your drink. Marco would never know the effect his words had on you. No matter what happened with Eren, you had a place in this group. Sure, Sasha had repeatedly told you the same thing, but hearing it from someone else, who didn’t have to say anything, was special. “I would love to.”

—

9:02 pm

After Sasha had joined the game and Historia had won Monopoly (thanks to Ymir, who kept slipping her money under the table), the rest of the boys emerged from Connie’s room, bringing the stench of weed along with them.

“Holy shit! Y/n?” Jean yelled in greeting. The grin on his face was wide, and it caused one to break across your cheeks too.

“Hi, Jeanie,” You laughed, standing up from the couch. You rounded the table to hug him, ignoring the others. You and Jean had always been close, even before you started dating Eren. Not seeing him because you chose to distance yourself proved more hurtful than beneficial.

“Haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?” His voice was soft against your ear, and you tightened your arms around him.

“Been better, but I missed you.”

“We’re here too, you know,” Connie piped up, rolling his eyes.

“I saw you this morning, idiot,” You laughed, Jean joining you as you pulled apart.

You stepped to the right of Jean and scanned the faces of everyone in Connie’s room; Armin, Mikasa, Bertie, Reiner, Eren (sparingly), Connie himself, and—who is she?

A petite brunette girl stood at Eren’s side. Her features were sharp and tinted pink when you met her eyes.

You lifted your hand in a lazy wave and turned back to the couch. Your chest tightened at seeing someone you didn’t know hanging out with your group—were they replacing you already?

Sasha noticed your fidgety hands and grabbed them as you sat next to her. You didn’t look anywhere but at the table.

The room grew tense and awkward.

And when nobody spoke, Eren threw his arms up. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone want one?”

The sound of his voice was cutting. It shredded the weeks of progress you had tried to heal and buried deep into your subconsciousness. You missed his voice.

Your eyes lifted, and when your gaze landed on him, Eren inhaled sharply. “I’ll have one.”

Everybody held their breath as you and Eren exchanged words. They never thought they’d see the day, even if it was to be mean to each other.

Eren’s lip curled. “You sure you don’t want vodka? I heard it’s good for ruining relationships, which you seem great at!”

“Okay! That’s where we end that. Real mature,” Sasha stood abruptly, her hands ripping from yours. “Eren, a word?”

“Would love one, Sasha,” Eren’’s tone was clipped as he stalked back down the hallway.

The brunette girl shifted her weight. You watched her stand awkwardly without Eren there.

You couldn’t move with everyone’s eyes on you. With your muscles frozen, you’re eyes were unblinking as the muffled voices from down the hallway got louder.

“Y/n, right?” A new voice spoke. You lifted your head and saw the new girl walking hesitantly toward you. “I’m Cate.”

Your eyes flickered to Jean, who was holding his breath. A small smile replaced your blank stare as you shook the girl’s hand. You couldn’t hate this girl. No matter what happened between you and Eren, she would never be the target of your anger.

“Nice to meet you.”

Around you, the room started moving normally again. Laughs were heard, and conversation picked back up. After her introduction, Cate scuttered to the kitchen, and you slumped back into the couch.

“Nice to meet you,” Jean teased, flopping down next to you, lifting his leg to put it over your lap.

“Shut the fuck up. What was I meant to say?” You snapped, smacking his knee.

“What you said was fine. Jean’s just being a dick,” Marco said from the other side of you.

“If anything, Eren’s being a dick,” Jean mumbled.

You said nothing. And when Jean was going to start speaking again, a pair of legs stopped in front of you.

The blonde boy looked nervous as he looked down at you. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Hi, Armin. How are you?”

He sighed and smiled. “I’m well. How are you?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “You know…”

Armin nodded and sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your knees hit his as you pouted at him.

“Armin… why haven’t I seen you in biochem?” You asked, giggling as you said your following sentence. “You didn’t drop out, did you?”

Armin gaped at your jab and shook his head. “I’m offended at the thought! I had to change classes. It clashed with my other biology class.”

You smiled understandingly. “I guess I was just hurt you didn’t tell me. I know it can be awkward.”

Armin sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I always want to hear from you,” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re the only one who listens to my ramblings about everything.”

Jean and Marco went to object, saying anything about how they’d had heard it all for the past few weeks when Armin laughed. “That’s true. Got anything for me right now?”

“And that’s when we leave,” Jean stood, motioning for Marco to do the same. “Bye, guys.”

—

10:39 pm

To say a majority of the group was intoxicated would be an understatement.

Ymir and Historia left an hour ago because Historia was on the verge of passing out. Sasha and Eren had gone to different ends of the apartment a while ago after Sasha yelled at him for half an hour. He hadn’t looked in your direction since he came out of the room.

Eren now sat, with Cate, on the couch, a beer held loosely between his fingers, taking sparse swigs. His eyes were heavy, but his cold facade never wavered. Surrounding him were Bertie, Reiner, Mikasa, Armin, and Annie. They were conversing about the NBA or NFL; you couldn’t remember the topic when you left.

Conversely, you were perched on the counter in the kitchen as Marco, Jean, Connie, and Sasha competed in a ‘who could make the better drink’, with you as the judge. You were beyond tipsy, everything falling from your lips unfiltered, which was good and bad when tasting their beverages.

Your face soured as you swallowed. “Fuck, Jean! That’s disgusting!”

The tall boy cackled, holding his stomach as you tipped the rest of the drink down the sink. “I spent my time on that! You're so ungrateful!”

The rest of the group laughed at your misfortune, pushing various shaped cups and glasses in your direction for you to try.

The laughter soon died when Cate walked into the kitchen. She wore a smile on her face and waved when she noticed everyone’s eyes on her. “Hey, guys. What’re you doing?”

“Best drink competition, wanna play? Y/n’s judging,” Connie asked, his eyes hanging and words slurred.

“Uh, yes! I’ll make mine now. No peeking!” She laughed, picking up a random cup off the opposite counter. You and the others covered your eyes playfully.

“Okay, done,” Cate muttered, handing you a black cup. “Tell me what you think.”

Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on you, but when she handed you the cup, the typical mischief you’d encountered in everyone else’s eyes when they gave you their drinks was far less dark and cynical than hers. Cate wore a smirk as Jean did, but it seemed more calculated than his silly one. But your drunk brain was too dismissive to take it to heart. So, you took a sip of her drink.

And when the sharp tang of vodka hit your tongue, you almost vomited. Your lips parted, and your eyes watered at the taste and what it had caused you weeks ago.

“Bitch,” You whispered, yet nobody heard.

The kitchen was silent as Cate stood before you, arms folded over her chest. She leaned closer to you, her mouth next to your ear. “It’s a shame. You’re so pretty but such a cunt. I almost feel bad for the guy. He had to tolerate you for so long. Thanks for letting me have him.”

And as Cate fell back onto her heels, she sighed, like uttering those words filled her with relief.

Sasha instantly recognised the look on your face and gasped. Even in her drunken haze, she had perfect aim. Her palm came in contact with Cate’s cheek before the boys could even react, and you took no notice of what had just happened, gaze unfocused and on the floor.

“Woah!” Connie yelled, placing his glass in the sink to hold back his best friend.

“Sasha, what?” Jean exclaimed, hooking his arms around Cate’s from behind.

And Marco was silent. He stood beside you, taking the cup from your hands and sniffing the liquid. He sighed when he recognised the smell. “Fuck.” He whispered.

“You’re never allowed back into my house! Get out!” Sasha screamed. “Or you’ll finally get to see the crazy bitch you’ve been calling me for a month!”

The commotion had finally caused a reaction from the group in the living room, who were now flooding the space. The music was quiet, which made the scene more tense.

“What the fuck is going on?” Reiner yelled over the arguing, taking notice of Cate in Jean’s arms and Sasha in Connie's.

“Let go of me, Connie!” Sasha cried. She now had tears streaming down her face at the same rate as you.

You were dissociating; Sasha could see it clear as day. Your hands shook, and your eyes were unfocused as you stared at the floor, your body swaying ever so slightly.

“Please, let me go.”

Having heard the plea and sadness in Sasha’s voice, Connie released her. The girl stumbled out of his hold and rushed toward you, helping you off the counter with Marco’s assistance. She ushered you back into the living room and down the hallway to her room.

“Let go of Cate, bro,” Eren snapped, stepping forward to reach her.

Jean threw his friend a glare. “Okay, bro,” Jean laughed bitterly and let go of the brunette.

Nobody in the kitchen said a word except for Marco, who had had enough awkward silences tonight.

“Before you go, Eren, because you tend to do that a lot now, I’d take a good, hard look at who you’re keeping company,” Marco shifted his gaze to Cate, who stood rubbing her arms.

“Me? You think this is my fault? That girl is insane! No wonder you broke up, Ren,” She looked up at Eren.

The other boys, Mikasa and Annie, watched anxiously for Eren’s next move.

—

11:00 pm

Meanwhile, you were in Sasha’s room sipping on a water bottle she handed you. Despite the short time, you were already starting to sober up, both from the shock of what just happened and the granola bar Sasha had forced down your throat after she locked her bedroom door.

“God, I hate her. I tried to keep quiet tonight for Eren’s sake, but I can’t, not after that,” Sasha mumbled. “What did she say to you?”

“Uh,” You bit your bottom lip. “She called me a cunt and thanked me for giving her Eren or something. I don’t know. I zoned out.”

Sasha let out a noise of frustration. “If I could punch Eren, I would. He has some serious nerve bringing her here when he knew you were coming.”

“It’s no big deal. I mean, it’s true,” You said tonelessly. “I did some fucked up stuff to him that night.”

“Firstly, shut up! You’re not a cunt, how are you? You got the courage to come here in the first place, and I’m so proud of you. Just because one girl, who must hate women, said that about you doesn’t mean you are one. It's a reflection of her, not you. And secondly, he said shit too! You’re both in the wrong. Stop taking all the blame.”

“Thanks, Sash.”

“You know what I mean. It’s bullshit. I hate that people took sides; I really do. It makes me feel like our group wasn’t as close as I thought.”

You placed your hand in hers. “I’m sorry for fucking up our friend group.”

Sasha sighed. “You didn’t fuck it up,” her eyes were glassy when she looked at you. “I think it was already fucked up.”

Her statement made you laugh sadly.

But your laugh was cut short by the sound of the front door slamming. You shared a look with Sasha as you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

“That’s probably Jean. Bet Eren left,” Sasha mumbled, squeezing your hand before straightening up from her bed.

And as she opened the door, nothing could prepare you for who was standing there with his fist raised to knock.

“Oh my god,” Sasha groaned. “Have you finally decided to talk to her? All it took was some girl to insult her for you to want to speak with her?”

Every muscle in your body was unmoving. It was like someone had poured ice water over your head. If you hadn’t sobered up from the snack and water before, you definitely had now.

“Sasha, please,” Eren whispered. Even though he towered over Sasha, Eren looked small. He was curled in on himself, shoulders hunched.

“It’s okay, Sash,” You stated, noticing how Eren’s demeanour changed at your words. He looked almost the same as when you were together, ganging up on your friends to tease them lovingly.

“Fine,” Sasha said firmly. Then she brought her finger to Eren’s chest. “But if you make her cry, I will strangle you.”

Eren just nodded, knowing it wasn’t the time to joke around. Sasha side-stepped to let him inside her room before turning around and holding the door handle.

“I will shut this door for privacy only. I don’t want to walk in here later to see you’ve killed each other,” Despite her words, Sasha smiled as she said so.

“Bye, Sash,” You wave, hyperaware of Eren standing a few feet away.

“Yeah, yeah.”

And when the door clicked shut, Eren shifted in his spot. You waited for him to speak, but it never came. You guessed his conversation with Sasha earlier in the night had put him in his place.

“Where do you wanna start?” You asked, choosing to help him sort out his thoughts instead of attacking him immediately.

Eren, seemingly grateful, fidgeted with his hands. “I want to talk about the party first.”

You nodded, looking away from him.

“I wanna start by saying we both had too much to drink that night. I should’ve never tried to find you afterwards; I was just so confused and hurt,” Only then did Eren glance in your direction. You met his eyes and shook your head. “I want to hear your side, but could I say my piece first?”

You nodded, allowing him to continue.

“Thanks,” He sighed with a crooked smile and shook his head softly to rid it. “Anyway, I, uh—that night went downhill so fast. I know they say that drunk words are sober thoughts, I know. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was angry at myself, you, and everyone else at that damn party because I—I couldn't take the questions, and the expectations, and the responsibilities. And you’re right. I am immature because I couldn’t understand why you made that choice, and I still don’t understand why you did. It just hurt me so deeply that I didn’t know how to accept it. I still don’t!"

"I stumbled around all night with that damn bottle of vodka because I knew you liked it, and when I saw you with the same bottle dancing with Sasha, I snapped. I couldn't believe you were having fun after hurting me so badly," Eren paced the floor. “But I can’t move on from you, sweetheart. I really can’t. And tonight,” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I brought her here. I guess I just wanted you to hurt as much as I do. But, if I knew she would act like that toward you, I never would've spoken to her in the first place. I’m sorry for that.”

Tears brimmed your lash line as you nodded. Eren remained near the door.

“I—uh, I’m sorry for everything I said too. Yes, you can be immature, but you’re not arrogant or aloof when speaking about serious stuff; you're doing it right now. And I’m sorry for doubting your love for me—in hindsight, it was a shitty thing to say considering…” You trailed off.

Eren stayed silent.

“I literally hung you out to dry in front of everyone, and you're still here trying to make amends with me!" You exclaimed, angry with yourself. "That's like one of the least immature things ever."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "That night scared the shit out of me, with all the talk about the future and what we’re going to do when we graduate literally next semester. Eren,” You look up at him. “I don’t have any plan. I’m going to finish my degree, and then what? I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to see my friends once a year because we’re all on different sides of the country, of the world! I want to stay here with the lunatics out there and you.”

The sudden confession made you pause. Eren inhaled sharply, meeting your eyes. You swallowed and continued. “I always wanted to stay with you.”

Neither of you spoke. As you stared at each other, you noticed small things about Eren’s appearance that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him: the flyaways near his face were longer, his usual clean-shaven jaw was lightly stubbled, his black t-shirt was tighter around his arms, and the green in his eyes was darker.

Eren broke the silence first. “I just want to know why you said no,” He begged.

You were waiting for this question. Sure, Eren had asked it when you’d first answered his initial question, but now, he deserved an explanation. He hadn’t been angry at your answer, more heartbroken than anything.

“You say you want to stay with me forever, yet you say no at the first real chance to do that.”

You blinked, and tears fell down your cheeks. “I know,” Your voice was strained as you wiped at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The bed dipped beside you, and Eren’s thigh pressed against yours. And as you hiccuped, Eren wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him.

“It’s my biggest regret, saying no to you. I couldn't believe you’d actually want me like that.”

“Of course, I want you like that. I want you in every way if you’d let me. But until you say the word, I’m not acting on anything you don’t want me to.”

You lifted your head from his chest and turned toward him. His arm fell from your shoulders, and you took his hands in yours.

“If you asked me again, just know I’d say yes,” You cried. “That night… that night was among the very few when I didn’t believe you were real. There is absolutely no way that someone could love me the way you do. Nobody. I believed I would never be loved like that from a very young age. And it was confusing when you came into my life and told me differently after I'd spent years drilling into my mind that I’d be alone forever.”

“I was terrified that saying yes meant I was falling for some cruel joke,” Eren’s hand hovered over your cheek before you tilted your face to rest in his hand. “But now that you’re still here, still wanting to marry me after I said all those horrible things to you, I know what you feel is true. You’re true.”

Eren laughed, eyes watery as he nodded. “That doesn't make sense. But, yeah, I’m real, and my love for you will always be real.”

"It only took a failed proposal for me to realise what I lost," You cringed, peering over at Eren.

He gave you a pained expression, hand over his chest. "Ouch, at my expense?"

You nodded, dragging your hand over your cheeks. "Unfortunately."

And just like that, the pair of you fell back in sync. Eren wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you close. "I know we still have a lot to talk about, but can we just sit here for now?"

"Yeah," You whispered, circling your arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier in the living room," Eren muttered.

"It's okay. I was ready to say something mean back before Sasha interrupted. So I'll apologise for the intent."

Eren snorted. "I don't think anything you say to me could stop me from loving you."

"Even when I yell at you for leaving dishes in the sink?"

"Especially then," And then you felt him lick your cheek.

"And he's back," You mumble, wiping the side of your face. "I was starting to miss the weird side of you."

"Not my fault."

"Too soon."

You pulled yourself out of his embrace and composed yourself, wiping under your eyes and shaking your arms.

“Let’s start over,” Sticking your hand out, you sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

Eren shook his head and clutched your outstretched hand. “Hi, Y/n. I’m Eren. I hope you don’t mind, but I will propose about a month into our inevitable relationship.”

You smiled at him, tears slipping past your lashes again. “And this time, I’ll say yes, Mr Jaeger.”

“Hey, I never told you my last name.”

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #— ann writes!

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