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pseudowho · 9 months ago

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Operation: Babymaker-- Ditch the Party...again

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready.

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💜 💛 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

💜 💛 Part 6 LINK HERE: Grapple

It's a beautiful day for a party, and Kento is a naughty, naughty goose drunk 🪿💛

And...LINK HERE to the original Ditch the Party

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink 💛

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"Kento! Are you nearly done? We've got to go!" You leaned out of the bathroom, smirking at Kento and the scrutinising eyes he ran over your niece's expertly wrapped birthday present.

Kento grumbled, mildly offended; "'Nearly done'," he scoffed, "as if I'd leave it to the last minute. It's been wrapped for a week." You padded over to him, pleased with your gift choices; a knight's costume (complete with sword and shield) and a glittery nail polish set.

"I can't believe she's five already," you crooned, fingers grazing over her gift, wistful. Leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, Kento smiled into your hair.

"I can't wait," he hummed, the prospect of parenthood filling him with fizzy excitement.

You looked up at him with sternly pinched lips, and an unwavering memory of your last badly-behaved-Kento party attendance; "Well, you'll have to wait. It's child-friendly today. The strongest thing going past your lips is pink lemonade."

You headed towards the door. Kento had the absolute audacity to look at you with total innocence.

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"Happy birthda-- oh, she's gone."

Leaning down to hug the birthday girl, your niece, was futile-- she darted away laughing, slippery as an eel, into the maelstrom of other children, several dozen boys and girls her own age who had taken over the garden.

The obnoxiously loud party music, screeching kids on the bouncy castle, bustling parents making awkward small-talk, and flamboyant party entertainers turned the scene into a sensory nightmare. You felt Kento lean close, his smooth voice grazing your ear.

"I'll get us a drink, shall I?"

Before you could turn and beg to go with him, he was gone, weaving back to the kitchen with a sly look in his eye. Other parents stepped back from you, the currently child-free sacrifice, and you were as a gazelle on the Sahara.

"Tag, YOU'RE IT--"

You squeaked as a child slapped your thigh, promptly sprinting away. You smirked, tying back your hair, ready to be the cool auntie.

Ready to be IT.

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Kento strolled through your sister's kitchen, nodding politely to the horde of strangers, catching your sister's eye and being beckoned over. She looked sweaty, and harangued, but happy.

"Kento! Drink?" Without waiting for an answer, she bustled around behind her, scooping a ladle into an enormous crystal dish of juice, "Here, you'll need this, I promise. It's not that strong--"

Kento wasn't listening as two big red cups were pushed into his hands, and stared instead out of the window into the garden, his gaze meltingly soft and adoring.

He watched you, hair up, dewy in the Spring sun, laughing as you darted after squealing children. His chest burst, his head a montage of you and him and a fantasy child. Kento sighed, and took a generous swig of juice, thirsty after your long drive. He raised his fine eyebrows, glancing down into the cup.

"I don't normally like juice," he said aloud to your sister, who offered him a guilty little smile, "but this has something about it."

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Panting, and being congratulated by your watch for completing a good workout, you lolloped away from the crowd of children, who had now mercifully abandoned you for a live magician.

"Where is that man," you pondered aloud to yourself, as you poured yourself a glass of lemonade in the kitchen, "who promised me a dri-- oh!"

You slopped lemonade down your arm with a squeak of surprise, as strong arms wrapped around your waist, a wet kiss being pressed behind your ear.

"Kento! There you are. I was beginning to think you'd left me," you teased, wriggling away to wash your arms at the sink. Kento hovered behind you, predatory in his affections.

"Leave you?" He began, low and sultry, "How could I possibly, when you taste so--"

Kento was interrupted, your mother leaning past him to give you a kiss. As you spoke with her, you reapplied your lipstick, and Kento felt a wicked lick of heat in his belly, all inhibitions thrown out of the window after three large cups of 'juice'.

Your mother left, and you turned to drape your arms around Kento's neck, ready to be held at arm's length in accordance with his strict ick towards public affection. With a jolt of surprise, you felt his arms lock behind your waist instead, holding you flush against his body, his light slacks and summer shirt (why was his tie loose? how were the top three buttons suddenly undone?) leaving little to the imagination.

"That colour suits you," Kento whispered, husky as his eyes flicked down to your lips, one thumb coming up to slowly brush your bottom lip down, shuddering at the lipstick coming off onto his skin, "but it would suit my cock much better, don't you think?"

You blushed furiously, trying to battle your way out of his arms as he chuckled against your decollete. Your frantic eyes spotted the punch bowl, your sister-- from whom drinks should never be accepted-- and a series of empty cups.

You stuttered up at Kento, feeling yourself throb against your will as his tongue darted across his lips, smearing the lipstick residue on his thumb onto his neck instead. You began to hiss at him, berating, squirming against him to release yourself from his arms.

Kento groaned into you, and you clapped your hands over your face to hide your blush; "Keep that up," he threatened, low and laughing, "and I might just have to tie you up before I cum in my--"

You dropped out of his arms, wiggling under them and whipping your head round to check for other people, before pointing a finger at him. You mimed zipping your lips, eyes glistening, cheeks pink, and Kento felt his cock twitch at you telling him off. You had backed away, but Kento smirked, lopsided, and slowly loped towards you, eyes hungry, backing you into a corner.

"Tag, you're it!" A little hand batted at Kento's leg, and he flipped smoothly, spinning and jogging off into the garden after your niece. You stood, red faced, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, and wondering where to hide to cover your sha--

"You alright? Looking a bit..." Your brother-in-law walked into the kitchen, and finished weakly, unsure if he was about to inadvertently insult you. You smiled, flapping your hand at him.

"Hot," you gasped, "running round after this lot!" He smiled appreciatively, offering you a cup of your sister's deadly punch. You took a swig before holding it away from your lips, coughing.

"What the hell did she put in this?" You sputtered. Your brother-in-law looked sheepish, at least, on his wife's behalf.

"Everything, I think," he apologised, "Kento likes it, anyway--"

"Oh, he would," you snipped, before excusing yourself to the garden. Unable to spot Kento amongst the knights and princesses, your neck prickled, feeling distinctly hunted.

Staring from treehouse, to bouncy castle, to little wooden playhouse, to game of tag, you raised your cup to your mouth, ready to chug a mouthful of Dutch courage-- and you felt a long-fingered, enormous hand pluck the cup out of your grasp from behind, hearing Kento release a hum of satisfaction as he drained your punch in one gulp.

"Gorgeous punch," Kento drawled, slipping one foot between yours and one arm round your waist, "let's dip your tits in it and I can suck it right off."

Without warning, Kento hooked one of your legs from under you as you squeaked at him, and he took the opportunity to heroically catch you before you fell to the ground.

A small cluster of parents looked over to you both. Kento dusted you off, smiling at you, and gently chastising; "you shouldn't drink so much at a children's party, darling."

Your jaw dropped. Wordlessly, Kento abandoned you and hopped onto the bouncy castle with your niece; you sputtered at the faintly judgemental looks from the mothers beside you. Mortified, you moved to the party food table, pretending to organise plates to hide how flushed your face was, and how you had to clamp your legs together to stop the throbbing.

Turning round once you had calmed down, you felt Kento's arms cage you in against the table, just like the last party, and you gaped up at him in mute horror. Kento maintained eye contact, brown eyes twinkling as he reached round you, picking up an eclair from a plate of party cakes.

"Cream-filled," whispered Kento, taking a languid bite, whipped cream pouring from the end facing you. Kento chewed, leaning close to you as he swallowed, tongue darting out to lick cream off his lips, "my favourite."

You could have exploded, your whole body on fire with embarrassment and want. Nearby, your elderly great-aunt cooed as Kento appeared to lovingly offer you a bite of his pastry. You were silent, stunned; she reassured you.

"Don't mind me, dear, take a bite!"

"I'm-- I mean, uh--" you stuttered, and Kento smiled at your aunt, pulling you in sweetly by the hip.

"I think she's full, actually," Kento laughed with your aunt, smiling again as she walked off. Spinning back to face you, Kento's smile was gone and replaced by wolfish hunger again, "but not as full as you could be, all fucked-out on my cock, hmm?"

"Oh my god, Kento," you whimpered, face in your hands, now surrounded by children being invited to the table for lunch. Kento smiled, bending down to pass plates out, before pulling you aside again.

"Say it again," he growled, low and desperate, tucking your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering for a fraction too long, "but next time, I want it because I'm pulling your hair."

You ran, positively melting, in dire need of a hiding spot. Zipping through the kitchen, past the living room, you rounded the corner into the hallway, finding the nearest cupboard, and darting in.

No sooner had you reached up, pulling a little string to switch the light on...than a hand, strong and determined, closed around the doorframe, pulling Kento into view. You felt faint, both hands pressed over your mouth to stop yourself from audibly gasping.

Kento never once took his eyes off you, stepping into the narrow shelved cupboard, and reaching up for the light pull. The last thing you saw before being plunged into darkness, was Kento removing his tie.

Your senses heightened, you smelled Kento's cologne before feeling his lips on your neck, shamelessly sucking you, tasting you. Kento groaned, loud and shuddering, and he laughed as you slapped him on the chest. You felt him thrust loosely against your belly.

"I love parties," Kento lied, and you scoffed.

"You hate parties, Kento, you just love--"

"Fucking you with words before squirrelling you away somewhere?" His mouth moved lower, shifting your shirt and bra aside to pull your nipple into his mouth, hot and wet and sucking you just a little too hard, "Foreplay, darling."

You gasped, your fingers tangling in Kento's hair, his other hand making quick work of undoing your shorts. Idly slipping his hand inside and underneath your underwear, you bucked against his hand, Kento shivering with glee at your delicious wetness.

"Fuck yourself on my hand," he whispered, husky with restraint, "and we'll see who cums first, hmm? A little competition." You clapped a hand over your mouth as he curled two thick fingers inside you, so long that the edges tickled your cervix and you felt him in your belly.

The heel of Kento's hand pressed flush to your clit, and your hips stuttered as you rolled them against him, seeing stars with the friction, rutting down onto his fingers, holding him by the wrist.

Kento had already undone his trousers in the dark, and palmed his aching cock desperately inside his boxers. Whispering filth to you, sucking and releasing your breast into his mouth again and again with wet pops as he pinched your nipple between his lips, Kento wished he had more hands.

"Keep going-- fuck, good girl-- such a good girl--" he whispered, unable to stroke his cock for fear of cumming down your thigh, his head swimming with your velvety wet walls clenching around his fingers, using his hand as a toy to pleasure yourself.

Kento felt his high begin to creep down his spine, his balls clenching, biting lightly against your nipple and trying not to rip into you like a wild animal. As you felt your own orgasm creep closer, humping the heel of his hand, fucking his fingers as deep as they could reach for relief...Kento removed his hand with urgency.

"--can't-- can't hold back--" he shuddered, shunting down your underwear for better access, "--can't waste it--" Kento grabbed your hand, wrapping it round his twitching cock, and settled his weeping cockhead against your clit, keeping his other hand close.

Wrapping his fingers round yours, keeping himself pressed against your clit, Kento stroked himself fast, his groans building, until they tapered off into stuttering moans. You felt short, hot bursts of Kento's seed hit your clit, and fall into his other, waiting hand.

Kento shivered and swore to feel you rub his cockhead on your clit, using his cum as lube. He had gathered the rest of his cum, thick and white, on his fingers, and thrust them back inside you, not stopping until they grazed your cervix again. Positioning the heel of his palm against your clit again, Kento squeezed your thigh, pulling it forwards to encourage you to fuck his hand again.

You complied, Kento's seed giving you the lubrication you needed, pressing your aching pussy down around his fingers until you felt him deep in your belly again. Kento's mouth and other hand were full, busy with your breasts, kneading and massaging and pinching as he whispered encouragement to you.

"--got to cum-- suck it all up into you-- then I'll fuck it in even deeper--" Kento's drunk filth rolled off his tongue without a filter, going straight to your core, and your orgasm burned through you like wildfire.

Kento kissed you deeply, drinking your cries and whimpers down like liquor. Kento's strong hand thrust you through your ecstasy, feeling your pussy clench and suck against his fingers, leaving barely a trace of his cum behind.

Pulling his fingers out, Kento replaced his hand with his knee to keep you upright against the wall. In the dark, you blushed to hear the wet sucks of Kento licking his fingers clean.

"Ready?" He toned, low and devious.

"For wha--" With little warning, Kento lifted you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pressing his half-hard cock into your pussy, still twitching from your recent orgasm.

Kento groaned into your neck, hot and squirming with overstimulation, letting your incoordinate shocked little thrusts suck his cock deeper, bringing it back to life. He felt himself twitch inside you, growing longer and harder as the blood rushed back.

Drunk on Kento's insistent need to fill you with his cum, you had tuned out the sounds of the party, letting Kento hold your weight and shuddering in delight as you felt his cock warm and swelling inside you. A change in the tone of voices beyond the cupboard snapped you to attention.

"Hide and seek!" cried a little voice in the garden, "You hide, and I'll count...one, two--" A flurry of little screams and footsteps came closer, into the house.

"Kento," you hissed panicking. Kento chuckled against your neck, rutting lazily into you, trembling with the bittersweet tang of overstimulation. Encouraging you to lock your hips round him, Kento looped his tie through the door handle, wrapping the tails around his hand and bringing it back to your arse you hold you up again.

"One more time," he moaned, suckling little red hearts into your skin, "I won't-- won't be long--"

Hearing Kento's wavering voice, so intoxicated by his need to fill you, you slipped two fingers down, shivering as you used the remnants of his cum to rub circles on your clit, deliberately squeezing your walls around Kento until he whimpered against you. Feeling you pleasure yourself around him had Kento reeling.

Kento began to lift you by the thighs, ramming you down onto his cock, now rock solid, and you muffled your squeals into his chest. You heard him growl, shuddering as you bit into his pecs, and it spurred him on to fuck you harder. Clinging on around his neck, Kento felt a rush of satisfaction as to your pussy quivered in response to his brutal pace.

"--so close--" he whined, his breaths hot and panting, fruity with the deadly punch that brought him to this, "--got to-- you first...fuck, so deep--" Kento's arms faltered, and you dropped deeper around his cock with a squeak, the jolt making you convulse with pleasure.

Kento came with a muted growl, biting into you, unable to press himself any deeper than he already was. Overtaken by the euphoria of feeling himself twitch and spurt inside you, hearing you trying to suppress your gasps, Kento thrust lazily into you, finally satisfied, panting as he came down from his high; you flopped against him, lost in delirious pleasure.

Your stomach dropped as you heard little voices outside the door. Kento held his tie taut as hands pulled at the handle, before declaring "it's locked!", the footsteps scurrying away. Kento chuckled into your neck, devious as you slapped at his chest again.

"You need to lie down," he whispered into you, helping you to dress yourself again, filled with anguish as he thought of his cum dripping out of you.

"I do need a lie down," you agreed, still giggling and love-drunk. Releasing the tie and taking you by the hand, Kento peered surreptitiously out of the doorway before spiriting you away to the living room. A set of little boys and girls, dressed incoordinately as princess-knights, sat playing with nail polish and make-up.

They looked up at you both as you approached, taking your rumpled appearances in as evidence of a really fun playtime.

Kento filled once more with wicked intent.

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Lying back on the sofa with cucumber over your eyes, your lips were pursed as your niece plastered them with sparkly lipstick.

Kento sat cross-legged on the floor beside you, fingers splayed, nails now covered with nail polish of pink and red and gold and--

"Where did they get this cucumber?" You asked, sniffing, frowning. Kento's jaw twitched, answering after thanking a blushing little girl for her wonderful manicure.

"Sandwiches."

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sonicexelle-junkary · 6 months ago

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I can’t believe a toxic fusion briefly got me out of my art block.

If you haven’t guessed it, this is a fusion between my pal @pink-link-lemonade ‘s oc Linx and OL!Shadow. We both drew them (with slightly altered designs) and had fun doing so. A very crazy hedgehog that you really shouldn’t meet irl.

#art #fanart #illustration #sonic horror au #overlord shadow au #linx the hedgehog #character fusion

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tenti-q · 4 months ago

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💖🍋pink lemonade ice tea🍋💖

Would you like this as a sticker or t-shirt?? Check out my Redbubble store that’s linked in my bio ✨

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weirdozjunkary · 6 months ago

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More goofy guys that I love to draw <3

Linx— @pink-link-lemonade

#art #fanart #ship art #doodle #sketch #comic #sonic au #mva au #sonic the hedgehog #linx the hedgehog #BB X Linx

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soscarlett1twas · 2 months ago

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Caleana

↳ Earis and Zaros confess to eachother. ↳ 3k words / also available on ao3! ↳ Content warning for mentions of alcoholism and aphobia (?)

Serulla’s new dawn was not painted in hues of red, orange, or even pink; Instead banners of green unfurled, replacing their old midnight blue, and the kingdom’s crown rested on a new dynasty’s head. The Atha’lin family had won.

Zaros had won.

And you were left in the shadows of a fleeting night.

You could hear the whispers of those who passed you: How pathetic you were for lingering past your welcome. No matter tonight was the first official marker of Atha’lin rule. You were expected to be forsaken, gone before light of the new era hit you. In all honesty, you had expected that as well.

The Ilves earis had little intent on watching the parade of their mistakes. But you found freedoms in no longer being such, no longer the ‘Ilves earis.’ One of which was being able to more fragrantly disregard social conventions. So for one more night, you stayed.

Yet you clung to recesses of the atrium. They were celebrating renewal, but you couldn’t help but feel like they were praising the soon-to-be absence of you. A pit plagued your stomach.

It didn’t help that lime clung to your throat like a paste. It wasn’t an unfamiliar flavor, like the chocolate which also accompanied the western delegates, but it was strangely heavy. A film coated your mouth from the drink – it was unlike any lemonade you’d had before, similarly spiked or otherwise.

You turned your straw, clinking the glass against the cup.

It was strange to be pushed aside. Before, all attention gravitated towards you whether you liked it or not. Light had caught your jewelry into spun gold, a threaded trap for roaming eyes. You were sought and coveted. Single conversations could change social dynamics for months.

And now you were dust, a relic of the bygone. Serulla’s nobles changed their minds quickly, and the karmic weight of that punishment fell heavy. The Atha’lin’s suffered it. Now it was the Ilves’ turn.

Though, there was one benefit to the isolation: romance. Your hand no longer held some great diplomatic importance, and your once-potential suitors fell to the same disinterest of you that you once had for them.

Good riddance.

You took a swig of your drink, disregarding the straw. You still couldn’t tell if you liked it.

As if on cue, the music swelled. Still, nobody danced, idle chatter filling the space where shuffling footsteps might. Two women passed you, arms linked together. One caught a glimpse of you and sneered to her wife.

Maybe it was best to get some fresh air.

You turned away, taking long strides to one of the atrium's many exits. Your hand found a pillar and you curved around it, swinging you into a dimly lit hallway.

You did not need light to navigate. This was your home. For twenty-odd years, you roamed these palace hallways with confidence now unknown to you, a sense of belonging which you never expected to lose. Its towering architecture never frightened you. The ghosts of family members past never haunted you. You were the earis, and everything would be yours one day.

As a child, that ‘one day’ felt like it would never come. Even then you knew it never would, an intuitive sense always imploring that you weren’t meant for the royal life, not meant to be earis.

Your stroll slowed as you took a short stairwell up into an upper-level cloister which overlooked the sprawling gardens. Thick marble pillars held the roof, encrusted with gold and painted in seemingly a million hues. There were no windows – latticework filled the space between pillars, creating an array of shapes for moonlight to pool in across the floor.

You placed your half-drunken lemonade on the banister and walked towards one of the arches, leaning against its, rather thick, sill.

This was an older part of the palace. Early rulers from the Faysel house commissioned the wing, along with the expansive atrium below, to show off their riches. You supposed it worked, though came off as… outdated nearly six-hundred years later.

I suppose we’re both history now, you thought, running a hand along the stone.

What wasn’t old, and in fact had to be quite new, were the flowers. A flowerbed was situated snugly between the lattice and sill, seemingly never in use before today. Strange blooms perked up through the soil. They almost looked like birds.

You squinted to get a better view.

“Admiring the flying duck orchids,” a familiar voice asked. You turned.

Zaros Kymen Atha’lin stood paces away from you. He stood tall in his favored kameez, and if it weren’t for the time you spent together in the Trials, that smirk may have intimidated you. His blonde hair draped across his back with perfectly symmetrical strands pulled to the front. You had always been (quietly) jealous of his grooming – though tonight, your attentions were pulled to the diadem around his forehead. Lattice patterns danced across his skin as he moved to stand beside you, elbows resting on the sill. He used two fingers to prop up one of the flowers.

When right beside you, even in darkness, you could tell how much he was improving. His eyes held a spark they didn’t before, not when he was at the bottom of a bottle every night. Slowly but surely, he was waning off. Something akin to pride tightened your heart.

“They’re reliant on a fungus. It’s not native to Serulla, however. These were specially imported for the sake of,” his free hand waved, “all this. How special am I?”

You huffed. “Well of course, dear Eminence, you are very special.”

“Thank you, thank you. A shame, though. They’ll wither soon.” You glanced at him, his attentions fully on the plum bird. “They don’t belong here.”

“Some things don’t.”

He glanced over at you, painfully aware of your intentions to leave after tonight.

A moment passed in near-silence, the distant yet cheerful whistle of music lofting up to you. They must have started dancing.

“Why aren’t you down there?” You asked faintly.

“May I not say goodbye?”

“You may.”

Zaros shifted to face you, though you held your gaze on the duck orchids. The petals were almost velvety under your touch. “I wish I didn’t have too.”

“You must.” You sighed and dropped the flower, turning to him. “There’s no other choice. And quite frankly, its my own – I’ve long made peace with it.”

“But you made it out of necessity, didn’t you.” Something in Zaros’ gaze softened, turning almost intimate.

“That’s how we all make choices, don’t pretend like either of us have an abundance of free will. You didn’t join the Trials because you wanted to. Still, look how that ended up.” You didn’t mean for the last part to sound so bitter.

“No, I didn’t. And I prayed I would be given some other option.”

“Don’t we all.”

From your peripheral, you saw him smile.

You registered the texture of silk first. Zaros’ hand graced your jaw, ever-so-lightly, sending bumps along your arms. He didn’t even need to shift you. You looked back at him immediately.

“But I think I can give you one.”

“What are you saying, Zaros?”

He sounded breathless as he responded: “Rule with me.”

Your heartbeat stopped and quickened simultaneously, and something in you ran cold. The pit in your stomach seemed to curdle. Zaros long had ideals of a future you’d likely never witness, but this? This was talk of a madman.

Unwittingly, your cheeks doused in warmth.

“Zaros…” You began.

“Think of it,” his voice low and hopeful. “A solution for both of us. You’re able to stay in Serulla, and I’m spared of a life without you.” His touch snaked down to your wrist. His lips grazed your knuckles.

It did not dawn on you that this gesture was meant to be anything but horrific.

Zaros – an old rival, an older friend, your first tryst. Your only tryst. He enlightened you rarely with his words, though often with actions. And the monumental gift he had given you was clarity. Through your attempt at loving him did you realize it was impossible. You were not meant for romance.

And here he was, in all Zaros fashion, ready to break you back down.

He lifted his other hand to cup yours, which had begun to perspire profusely. “Stay, with me.”

“The politics, they’d never allow it—” You were not sure who ‘they’ were, but were willing to invoke anything to shoot this idea down.

“I’m the Eminence. I don’t think anyone has much sway over me,” he chuckled. His expression was dazed.

“What were the Trials for, then?” You muttered. “There can only be one.”

“Don’t you think this could ease us into a new era? Society isn’t going to adapt to Atha’lin rule so easily. Not after decades of rumors. A union of the old and new – Ilves and Atha’lin – could be just the solution.” He was close. You could feel his breath.

“Though, I admit, it is not the reason I ask,” he added playfully. “I’ve never chased the feeling of love. So of course, right when I do want something, it appears. Before I couldn’t imagine a life with you in it, not after our initial falling out. Now I can’t imagine one without you, where we both toil for Serulla, together. I admit, you were the one thing that made it bearable.”

There was a deep-set disturbance within you. It racked your entire body in a profound hollowness, as if you had no skeleton, no organs. You could tell him to back away. You could yell, as you did so often in the past. But this was different. This was a Zaros reborn in what he cited to be your love, not a schoolyard bully or political adversary. He could have nothing to do with you anymore.

But he was here, pouring his deepest confession into a request.

Your hand in marriage.

And you could think of no fate worse.

When you failed to respond, he went on. “I understand your hesitancy,” he murmured and knelt before you. “But earis, my dear earis, the lifetime we spent without each other was our darkest. I haven’t forgotten those late-night discussions.”

Sleep-deprived and bored of studying, the two of you had taken to revealing secrets in the library’s candlelight. Both of you uttered things never once said aloud. Admissions of alcoholism among them.

You also had done things never spoken of again.

The kiss flooded back to you – it was reckless, but as you watched Zaros that one evening, you felt your resolve slip. Maybe you weren’t so hopeless. Maybe romance could be in your future, ironically with the man who’d once convinced you otherwise.

But when your lips had met, it came rushing back to you. The revulsion, not with him, but the act, its implications…

That must have been what convinced Zaros to do this, you realized. You’d tricked him with your own fickle desire.

And your horror slipped into an intoxicating guilt.

“We did it once, do you remember? We could try again. It’s a familiar dance, we just need to follow the steps.”

“We were kids.” You broke on the last word.

Drawling realization dawned on Zaros’ expression as he understood this bashfulness was not a byproduct of flattery.

An eon stretched between you.

Eventually, “I’m sorry, Zaros, but no.” It was barely above a whisper.

When you mustered up the strength to look at him fully, the unravelment stunned you. Gone was the pristine, newly-crowned Eminence, and in his place was a heaving shadow of a man. His throat and chest bobbed to unsteady rhythms. His hair, fraying from their pinpoints.

Gone was the lovesick bleary-eyed king who dreamed again beyond his gardens and politics. You did not know who had replaced him, only that this mask of Zaros’ was one unique to this very moment – one of unadulterated heartbreak, so crushing you almost heard his paper heart crumble.

Now was your turn to take the lead.

“It was never you,” you said delicately, if only because your voice was hoarse enough. “If it were anyone, it would be you. But it’ll never be anyone.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“I don’t really either.” You exhaled, a mockery of laughter. “But I know it to be true.”

You took a steadying breath.

“It felt treasonous to admit that before, but I’m no longer expected to be the next link in my family. Even now, you call me ‘earis’ — it is all I’ve been designed to be. And what is a dynasty meant if it cannot be continued?”

You shook, grappling for the windowsill.

“That expectation, the need to marry was suffocating. I know you’ve felt it, even for someone who’s not only capable of experiencing it, but has. How do you think I felt, unable to? I thought I was nothing.”

‘Nothing’ was an apt word, but far from encompassing. It did not express the loneliness, of watching the world turn to synchronized heartbeats, your own just paces too slow. It did not express the fear of still be propagated up to suitors, your skin crawling in disgust at the idea of actually pursuing their offers. It did not express the guilt to your mother, but even you could barely articulate that.

“Being earis warped my perception of life in many ways. You were the first to call it out. But what you never saw was how I distorted countless emotions into what I thought was ‘love.’ You only suffered from it. I’m sorry, Zaros. I am. For what it’s worth, I thought I did love you. And you’re the only person who made me second guess myself. Because, in truth, I do love you.”

You gently took him by the shoulders, making you face each other fully.

The silence echoed. Static ringing in your ears died down, and you realized just how close you were to tears — hot and pitiful, welled up, ready to eternally shatter your attempt at civility.

You swallowed. For years you’ve lived with a lie in your heart, plastered to your expressions as you feigned flattery and blushes. What was one more conversation? You could hold it together.

But your voice came out pathetic, and you realized that with the denouncement of your title and life, one you swore you hated, your gift mimicry fled you as well. “Just… not in the way you want me to.”

Zaros scanned your face, brows pushed to an expectant furrow. You lowered your gaze.

“You are my closest friend. You alone understand me, understand the Trials, understand everything. I would not have told you any of this if it weren’t for my deep, abiding love for you — but it is not romantic.”

Your breath hitched.

“You are a brother to me. The world whispers about how the Atha’lins may have taken my first, but in truth, they gave me the only one I’ve ever known.“

Your hand relaxed on his sleeve, though the other looped down to grip his forearm.

“Just please,” your voice breaking, “don’t hate me again.”

And in some act of cosmic irony, you finally let him go.

A cool breeze wafted into the hallway. The open lattice chilled, night having fully set in. Even the moonlight seemed to sharpen as its pallor against the flooring turned to a silver. The world had come to a bleary fuzz.

It wasn’t until Zaros spoke that it resharpened.

“I’m nobodies replacement,” he said.

What?

“Mourn however you like, but don’t bring me into it. I never made you out to be my grandmother.”

“Zaros that’s not what I—“

“Don’t.” He raised a gloved hand. Lines stressed his face, and a quiver you’d never seen before attacked his bottom lip. He didn’t look at you.

You didn’t know what to say, how to rebuttal.

“You could’ve just said ‘no’.” His voice broke on the syllable. It took you a moment to process: Zaros Atha’lin, crying before you. “You don’t have to lie.”

You opened your mouth.

“But instead, you still insist on humiliating me – is that the only thing you know how to love?” He reared to look at you. Bitterness poisoned every word that dripped from his mouth. “You’ve lead me on for how many years!?”

“I didn’t know!” You practically screamed it, voice cracking as all restraint left you. “And I’m sorry, Zaros, I am – I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did, that’s all you’re good for! Taking and taking and taking… some Eminence you would’ve been.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I can believe I,” he kept stuttering over his words, “I diluted myself into believing you would ever change. That you’d ever be worth my time.”

“Is this… are you fucking serious?” Your nails bit into your palms. “Was that all I was to you, some affair? Can you really not believe in us being friends again like you could me swooning for you?”

“I never thought of you as an affair! I wanted us to be together—”

“Well that’s what I want, too! I wanted my best friend back—”

“You want your brother back.” “No! I want you!”

Both of you panted, baring into one another. You realized you kept saying the wrong things. Each time you bordered on what could be a confession, a small spark lit in his eyes.

He was egging you on. If he couldn’t get it his way, he’d find another way for his sick satisfactions.

Leech bastard.

Just as you were about to retaliate once more, Zaros stiffened, as if reading your mind.

“You were right about once thing. There can only be one.” He sounded like he was puking the words up, unwanted but spilled nonetheless. His expression was far more violent. “And for Serulla’s sake, lets be glad it was me.”

He turned away, feet pounding against the floor.

When he reached the stairwell, you saw his figure pick up your cup left on the banister. You looked away before you could see him drink from it.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #zsakuva zaros #zaros atha’lin #aromantic!earis #divider by cafekitsune

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 4 months ago

Text

CookieCreates Masterlist 🍪

s ◦ smut ✩ f ◦ fluff ✩ a ◦ angst ✩ h ◦ humor ✩ r ◦ request

PSA: i will be reuploading all of the links that do not work on here very soon but you can still access them on my blog so if your really wanting to read something just search it in my blog and you will find the version i reblogged from my old account. Thank you!

✩ Ot8 ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤ Headcannons

🍪 Small acts of love from skz ◦ f

🍪 skz as red flags ◦ a

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪 the boys find out you have a cold ◦ f

🍪 pulling the "shes busy" prank ◦ h

🍪 asking the boys "would you love me if I was a worm?" ◦ h

🍪 asking the boys "who is this" on a suggestive comment on their insta ◦ h

🍪 silly little dad!skz fake texts ◦ h

🍪 jealous!bestfreind!skz telling the reader to not go on her date ◦ hyung line

🍪 jealous!bestfreind!skz telling the reader to not go on her date ◦ maknae line

✩ Bangchan ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 lost in translation ◦ a+f - being an author comes with its ups and downs, when your deep in the dumps about your poetry bangchan is quick to comfort you.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 ・f —During one of your cuddle sessions with Bangchan, you realize that your relationship shares an odd resemblance to Twilight—without the entire plot, of course.

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪 while you were looking at him, i was looking at you ◦ a+r+f +mini-series

✩ Lee Know ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪 minho gets jealous watching the reader hand her customers cash ◦f+r

✩ Seo Changbin ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

✩ Hwang Hyunjin ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪

✩ Han jisung ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 doomsday ◦ a➝ 5231 · ⤷Sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤ Fake texts

🍪 accidental love confession ◦ f

🍪 teasing a shy han untill he accidentally confesses ◦ f

✩ Lee Felix ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 laughter like honey dribbles ◦ f+s+h ➝ 1123 words · realistic sex · ⤷ An inexperienced Felix tries to impress you by forcing his voice deeper. What do you do when it cracks mid-through?

🍪 hang the moon ◦ f +r➝ 4,506 words · Dad!Felix headcanons · ⤷ going through the ages of time with felix, from when you told him you were pregnant to seeing him braid your baby's hair.

🍪 pretty like poetry ◦ f+a➝ 2681 words · Hurt and comfort · ⤷felix always tended to hate the freckles that adorned his face, believing they were blemishes that deserved to be hidden under layers of foundation, but what will he do when you convince him that his freckles were pretty—pretty like poetry?

🍪 eat your words ◦ s ➝ 2290 words ⤷in a spiral of whiskey-induced stupidity, you claim felix couldn't dominate you even if he tried—oh, how he's going to make you eat your words.

🍪 rewrite the ending ◦ s ➝-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again. ( reader with mommy issues let's felix poetically fuck the sadness out of her)

rewrite the ending in every lifetime ◦ f+a+s➝ Going through the ages of time with Felix, no matter how many times your mother knocked you down, he was always there to pick you up—in every lifetime.

pink lemonade ◦ f+a+s➝ Felix had always dreamed of the day he could finally gather enough courage to kiss you. Even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined it would be mid-sip of your pink lemonade.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 don't cry over spilled milk ◦ f+a ➝ 1633 words · Dad!Felix · ⤷Accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪 teasing a shy felix until he accidentally confesses ◦ f+r

silly little fake text scenario

✩Kim Seungmin ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤Drabbles

a rose whose thorns made him misunderstood ◦ f ➝ 1070 · awkward! seungmin · ⤷ seungmin has sweet ways of showing you his affection, even if his antics are kind of flawed.

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

🍪 seungmin comforts an insecure reader ◦ f+a+r

✩ Yang Jeongin ✩

╰┈➤ One shots

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤Drabbles

🍪 Nothing here...yet.

╰┈➤ Fake Texts

©cookiecreates please dont steal my shit. thank you

#cookiecreates #masterlist

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

befriend your landlord

roommate eren x f!reader

you and eren reconcile after meeting your eccentric landlord

**find the series masterlist here

content: drinking, certified nut job landlord kenny ackerman, mentions of thanksgiving and fascism, mentions of a little meow meow

an: I do not subscribe to canon lonely levi he actually just has a very alive mother and a weirdo freak uncle bc I said so. buckle in girlfriends!!! (and boyfriends and all the friends) also this chapter is based on a very real thing that happened to one of my friends in college I just think its funny...also ive evolved from calling this a mini-series cuz I plotted way too much and now cuz we gotta build the trust yk they are VERY MUCH IDIOTS IN LOVE

previous part linked here

“So we can’t drive because…”

“He likes to drink. Like, an insane amount.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

You and Eren were currently swinging your feet on the green bench, the train station bustling in front of you. The two of you were riding into the city to meet with your landlord today. Kenny Ackerman. You were officially being added to the lease. But apparently, it was a bigger ordeal than just signing the papers.

You’d thought against it originally. Signing a very legal, very binding agreement to live with Eren, to stay with him for the foreseeable future. It didn’t seem like the best idea, given how the two of you were as of late. Awkward, distant, aimless.

If you had things your way, you would have been moving out, you would have never even been his roommate in the first place. You had even tried apartment hunting again, just to get away from Eren. For good.

The second you tried, you immediately remembered the reason you had to live with Eren in the first place. The options were hardly to die over. Hole in the wall, bathtub for a bed, your old physics professor.

You were stuck with Eren, whether you liked it or not. And that meant you had to go, convince Kenny Ackerman you were ‘worthy of living in the apartment’ (Eren’s words, not yours), and then sign the lease.

Eren had been coaching you for a better part of the morning, this conversation being the longest the two of you had talked in the past few weeks.

Some part of talking to him was becoming easier. The two of you weren’t exactly having the conversations you had before, but it was civil. Nice even. It was the only reason you were able to stomach this entire thing.

“I would never drive you home drunk, Y/N.”

“I could have driven us home.”

“Trust me. He can be very convincing.”

Eren had been coaching you on everything you needed to know about Kenny. Don’t call him Mr. Ackerman, he will hate you. If Kuchel, his sister, is there then make sure that you call her Mrs. Ackerman. Don’t call her Kuchel until she tells you to call her Kuchel. The sooner she says that, the better. Make sure to drink anything he offers you, the pink lemonade smells bad but it’s not too horrible. If his nephew is there, don’t make eye contact unless he makes it with you first.

He was somehow more nervous introducing you to his landlord (and his landlord’s family??) than introducing you to his own parents. Granted, they kind of put a pin in that entire thing, but he seemed way more at ease then than he did right now.

You can see the timer on the screen, signaling that the next train would be here in less than a minute. You nudge his shoulder and the two of you jump off the bench, hesitantly linking arms as you push through the crowd in front of you.

The second the doors slide open, everyone pushes forward, very quickly sliding into every available seat on the train. This left you and Eren to share a single pole to hold onto as the train started moving. You secure your knuckles right under his, the two of you standing in silence, less than a foot away from each other. He leans down, his face even closer than it was before and he whispers into your ear.

“Brace your feet.”

“I know how to stand on a train, Eren.”

He doesn’t respond right away and you turn to find him looking down at the ground, avoiding meeting your gaze. You were just kidding. But then again, you did yell at him last week, so how is he supposed to know the difference?

“Six stops. Then we’ll get off.”

You nod, bracing your feet against the ground as the train starts moving. The train is stuffy, warm, and way over capacity. You can smell the girl standing directly next to you’s perfume, the prune smell so strong it was making your head spin. But worse than the smell was the heat, the congregation of people making the air congested, your hair sticking to the back of your neck from the sweat.

The two of you are pressed against each other, standing awkwardly. In silence. You did that a lot lately. This thing between the two of you was…delicate. You’re not sure what it is but the usual comfort, ease that you and Eren had was all but eliminated, left with this quietness. If you made a joke, it was lost to him entirely. If he said something that caught you off guard, you usually avoided responding by leaving the room. You had shouted at him and he made fun of you, so that didn’t leave much room for comfort.

The train quickly lurches, slowing down all of a sudden. You quickly lose your footing, stumbling in the air as the train stops completely. Before you can fall, Eren secures his hand against your waist, stabilizing you in the air as the train comes to a full stop. You watch a few people get off the train and switch with those getting on, your breath still shaky from losing your balance.

You feel him lean down, his head directly next to yours as he whispers in your ear, again. His hand is still secured around your waist, holding you steady. Even though the train wasn’t moving.

“So when I said brace your feet, I basically meant-”

“Shut up, Eren.”

“We should get a leash for the ride back. Lock you up real nice so you won’t move.”

“Perfect! We can use after too, when I have to drag your drunk ass home.”

The two of you are laughing, readjusting yourself against the pole as the train starts again. His hands are still holding you steady and you can feel your cheeks flushing pink. From the heat. Obviously.

There’s always moments like this - ones where it feels like nothing’s changed at all. You try not to think too hard about them. They’ve always gotten you in trouble.

He tightens his grip on your waist every time the train lurches and stops, for all five of the stops. You avoid the pounding in your chest, which only stops when you both hop off the train at the end of the line.

As you wait for Eren to pay for the return tickets, you spot a tiny black kitten, just at the end of the sidewalk. You immediately run down, nuzzling the tiny little cat as you pet it. As you breathe in the air, you immediately sneeze twice, your eyes watery from the sensation. You immediately hear the sound of a camera clicking, to find Eren standing over you, his phone in hand.

“What was that for?”

“Two kitties!”

“Ew.”

He holds his hand out, pulling you up as the two of you walk down the block to Kenny’s apartment. Your hands are at your side, lightly brushing against Eren’s every time he leans over, making room for the other people on the sidewalk. The sun is setting on top of the buildings, the air slightly chilled. The two of you stop, standing directly on Kenny’s porch. He glances over, giving you one last look.

“Why are you so nervous, Eren?”

“He can be really weird. And he’s going to grill you. Just- we have to bear with him to keep the rent the way it is and live together so, just don’t blow it, okay?”

“I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Eren. Your faith in me is rejuvenating”

“That’s- shut up, you know that’s not what I meant.”

The two of you give each other a smile, as Eren turns to the side and knocks on the door.

“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” you whisper.

“His doorbell is La Cucaracha.” he responds.

The door swings open and you’re greeted with three faces staring down at you - identical sets of jet black hair and gray eyes glistening in the lamplight of the street. At the sight of you, their faces all visibly droop, as they all welcome you in.

“He looks too young for you, Levi. And he brought a pretty girl.”

“Those are the tenants, Mom. Not Erwin.”

The two of them shuffle down the hall, pushing past into the room.

“Kenny Ackerman. You must be Eren’s new roommate.”

“Yes, that’s me. It’s so nice to meet you.”

You hold your hand out, him nearly jostling your entire body as he shakes your hand. He idles down the hallway to where the other two had gone, leaving you and Eren in the walkway. You whisper to Eren as the two of you hang your coats on the rack.

“They hate me already.”

“That’s not true. Kuchel called you pretty.”

You roll your eyes, the two of you awkwardly shuffling into the living room, where the three of them were sitting across from you. It’s only then that you can get a better look at them and realize that you know one of them. Levi. Your old physics professor. The one who you cried to about not having a roommate that took pity on you and let you sleep in his house.

“Hi Professor Levi. It’s been a while.”

“I see you’ve found a roommate. I can’t believe you found a place to live in one week.”

“I thought you said the two of you had been living together for a few months, Eren.”

“We have, Kenny.”

“Ah, right. I was just looking around at other apartments for the past week just to see if anything popped up on the market. And they didn’t. So I’m here.”

Eren ducks his head down, the expression on his face dark. He whispers into your ear as the three of them start chattering, still discussing Erwin.

“What? You want to move out?”

“No, no. I was just looking. It must be awkward for you to live with a girl who isn’t your girlfriend, you know?”

He leans over, his eyes teetering between annoyed and irritated.

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

The doorbell rings, throwing you and Eren out of the conversation you were having. You watch the three of them jump up and rush to the door, fixing their hair and their clothes as they make it to the door. You and Eren stand up, peeking your heads down the hallway as you watch the three of them greet Erwin. Your old political science professor.

First Levi now Erwin too? You can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment, remembering that you had actually cried to the two of them twice - the first time to Levi when you were jumping houses and he agreed to let you stay with them and a second time when Erwin offered you an extra pillow before you went to sleep.

“Hello. I’m Erwin Smith.”

“Eren Yeager. This is my roommate, Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. How are you? You figured out your living situation fast!”

You don’t miss Eren glaring daggers at you out of the corner of your eye as you give Levi and Erwin an awkward smile, shaking your sweaty palms against their hands.

“Okay kid. You and Kuchel should go fix the dinner with Erwin in the kitchen. I have to talk to these two here.”

Why are you and Eren here the first time Levi’s family is meeting his long term boyfriend?

You look over to Eren whose irritation has very quickly been replaced with nervousness. Kenny is staring the two of you down, the two of you squished together on his very tiny couch.

“So. You go to Shiganshina?”

You feel your voice tangle in your throat, suddenly intimidated by Kenny staring you down. You can hear Eren’s voice echoing in your head, his angry look seared in your mind, your voice not coming out. He’s going to grill you. Don’t blow it.

“Yes. She’s an Applied Kinesiology major. She’s very smart.”

You look over, silently thanking the gods that Eren answered for you.

“Can you pay rent?”

“She has been, for the past two months.”

He nods, leaning over the table as he stares you down.

“I’ll give you a situation. Respond accordingly.”

You nod, clenching your hands into little fists against the couch.

“You just got off of work. You’re really tired but you have to stop by the store to get groceries. You’ve purchased them all. What do you do after?”

You look over at Eren, giving him a weary stare. What the fuck kind of question is that? Is there even a right answer to this?

“Well, I would leave the store. And take my cart, if I had one, to my car. I’d probably put my stuff away, return the cart, and then just drive home, put everything in the fridge and the cabinets.”

He nods, taking in your answer as he leans back in his chair. “Do you like Eren?”

“What?”

“As a roommate.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, he’s great.”

“Why did you start rooming with him?”

You can’t lie. It seems wrong to tell him that your old roommates chose not to room with you for the next year - he was sure to not think you were a good fit if you said that. But if he found out you were lying, it would be even worse.

“Well you see, she-”

“I asked her, Eren.”

You feel him move his knee, pressing his against yours as his fingers curl around your hand. You feel him squeeze your hand twice, his green eyes warm as he looks at you. Right. You can do this.

“I used to live with a few of my friends last year. I didn’t really know, but they had picked other arrangements without telling me, so I was left without a roommate for around a week. Eren was nice enough to offer me the empty spot in his room so I didn’t have to jump around from my friends' places every night.”

He stares the two of you down. You’re rubbing circles into the back of Eren’s hand, the two of you holding your breaths as you wait for his response.

“Sucks. Kids are bitches.”

You both squeeze, trying your best not to smile.

“Yeah.”

“If you kids start dating, you can't be loud at night. You’ll piss off the neighbors. You can sign the lease after dinner. You passed.”

He gets up off the couch, his distinct smoke smell leaving the room with him. You turn to Eren, the two of you smiling at each other as you lift your hands to high five. Eren holds your hand in the air, shaking your hand excitedly.

“You passed, kitty.”

“Where are we right now? Do you smell that? How does it smell like smoke and laundry at the same time? And what the fuck kind of question was that? I thought I was going to vomit. ”

“Weird guy. Nice rent rates, though.”

“And Levi. He’s my physics professor. I literally had a crush on him. And his boyfriend, he was my political science professor too. I even stayed over at their house once. This is about to be super weird.”

“Why did you stay at their house?”

“I didn’t have a place to stay! This was before you offered, when I was jumping houses.”

“Were they loud at night?”

“Ew. Don’t put that thought in my head. I’m going to vomit.”

“Save it for later.”

“As if. I can hold my drink. Trust me.”

You and Eren are seated directly across from Levi and Erwin at the dinner table, Kuchel and Kenny taking the heads of the tables at the ends. A large part of this feels like you and Eren are intruding on a very special moment, but you ignore that and dig into the food.

Right. For some reason, Kenny picked Thanksgiving food for the menu. In the middle of September. Like full on turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce.

“So, do you like Thanksgiving, Kenny?”

“I hate fascism, Y/N. No, I do not like Thanksgiving.”

You look over at Eren, trying your best to contain your laughter, as Kenny goes on, rambling about something you’re not quite sure about. Everything Eren said was slowly starting to fall into place - you really can’t turn down drinks from the guy. He’d already made you try three different drinks he made and you had only been here for an hour. And the pink lemonade was actually disgusting, Eren’s just a liar.

Kuchel turns to the two of you, flashing you both a big smile.

“Say Eren. You never told us you got a pretty girlfriend.”

You and Eren both choke on your food, clearing your throats.

“Ah. I’m not Eren’s girlfriend. We just live together. Friends.”

“Uh huh. Right. What a shame. You two are so sweet together. Sharing your sweet little smiles, playing footsie under the table.”

You immediately drag your foot off of Eren’s under the table, embarrassed that she had caught that. Every time Levi rolled his eyes, Eren tapped your foot to get your attention, the two of you trying not to laugh. It’s not your fault that rolling his eyes is basically like blinking to Levi.

“Ma. Leave them alone, yeah? They’re just kids, they don’t know what they feel.”

“I have to agree with Lee’ here, Mrs. Ackerman. Surely, they just haven’t reached that stage yet.”

“You call Levi Lee’, Erwin? That’s so sweet. Oh you two are just perfect and I-”

The four of you five of you watch Kuchel burst into tears, taking turns pressing kisses to everyone's cheeks at the table. You and Eren included. When she sits down, Eren leans over, whispering in your ear.

“She’s like Annie on hour five of being drunk.”

“More like hour one.”

You both laugh, silently eating your food as you watch them interact with each other again. Some parts of it feel like a reality tv show. Kenny’s is downright ridiculous - he’s been hurling out whatever comes to his mind. He told Eren that he seemed like the type to commit genocide in another life and then told Erwin that he would be a corrupt military man.

Kuchel is sweet. Almost two sweet. She spent a large majority of the night crying, telling baby stories about Levi when he was a kid. You don’t miss the way Levi’s ears turn red when she confesses that Levi used to be scared of the toilet when he was younger.

Best of all are Levi and Erwin. You don’t miss the glances between them - the silent communication they had going on at the table. It’s like the rest of you weren’t even here. That’s where you think Eren got the idea, the tapping on the feet. A signal that you were going to talk laugh about it later.

Eight drinks in and Kenny is blasting music, doing a solo interpretive dance to Etta James. You and Levi are in one corner with Kuchel, Erwin, and Eren in the other.

“I can’t believe this guy is your uncle. Did you ever do a DNA test?”

“Hundreds.”

You turn your neck to find Levi, staring across Erwin on the other side of the room. You follow his gaze, watching Kuchel pinch Eren’s cheeks and Erwin laugh at the two of them.

“What’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Eren. You like him right?”

You look down into your cup, the opaque liquid staring back at you. Erwin had made you a fruity drink, to which Kenny responded “everything about this guy is fruity!”

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t like you back?”

“No.”

“I didn’t like Erwin at first. He was too much - pretentious, arrogant, irrational at times.”

“But?”

“But, he was my best friend. At some point, all the love and admiration I had for him just became something more. Like, yeah, he was my favorite person to be around but then I wanted to be around him all the time. Tell him the good things, the bad things. Share something with him, anything, everything. I…I didn’t hate myself when I was with him.”

You smile, squeezing Levi’s shoulder in your hands.

“That’s sweet, Levi. I’m happy for you.”

He gives you a small smile, turning his neck back to look at them across the hall.

“Be his friend. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Six drinks in and Eren is feeling buzzed. He was trying his best to pace himself, make sure he was sane enough to take you home at the end of the night. He could tell by the glazed look in your eyes that you were getting there, close to being fully plastered.

He turns his neck, scanning for you around the room. You kept disappearing. But there you were, directly across from him, leaning against the wall from Levi. He meets your eyes and you give him a soft smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. His heart’s pounding.

“Do you like her, Eren? Oh please say that you do.”

Kuchel is squeezing his shoulders, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Yeah. Maybe a little bit.”

“Oh, oh, oh. You have to tell her. Don’t let her get away now!”

“Ah, I tried. She doesn’t like me.”

He watches her face droop, Erwin shaking his head in the air. Both of their cheeks are flushed pink, the cups they were holding shaking in their hands. Surely the only people who were at least somewhat sober were you and Eren, which was saying a lot.

“You know, Eren. I knew Levi was the one the moment I saw him.”

“Really?”

“I liked him so much, I wanted him around. In whatever sense that means. Even if he only wanted to be my friend.”

“He didn’t want to be with you?”

“Oh no, he loathed me. Like full of hatred.”

“And that didn’t…bother you?”

“Maybe a little bit, but we became friends after that. And I just wanted him around. Whatever way he would have me. Even just being his friend, getting to see him everyday, that was enough for me.”

Eren cranes his neck back over, where Kenny has his arms slung around you and Levi. He’s forcing the two of you to sign with him - Levi looking downright murderous while you flash Kenny a polite smile.

“Just be her friend, Eren. Maybe she’ll come around like Levi did.”

You can’t hold your drink. Obviously. But Eren knew that already. He had been watching you for a better part of the last hour, your inhibitions absent. Erwin had made you yet another fruit themed drink, which you were all too happy to down. The second he saw the glass hit your hand, he’d focused all of his best efforts in trying to sober up, calm the thrill running through his blood.

You had made your way back over to him after some time, the two of you on the couch. You were leaning your head against his shoulder, your breaths heavy and uneven. At the sight of Kenny - who was now singing with Kuchel on the table - you suddenly perk up, your hands pressed against his shoulders as you lean over him.

“Eren.”

“Hm, peaches?”

“I have a plan.” you whisper, your eyes somewhere between delirious and devious.

“Uh huh. What’s that?”

“You and I should sign the lease now. Then mail the letters. That way, we can leave and Kenny can’t get mad because we basically did him a favor. We’ll just tell Levi in case he asks.” you whisper, a smile spreading across your face.

You’re drunk out of your mind. Not that Eren himself isn’t drunk either, he can certainly feel the buzz he was trying to will away living, but he’s not as gone as you.

“Genius idea.”

“I know right!”

He was being sarcastic, but you had already jumped off the couch, to where Levi and Erwin were standing in the corner. He quickly follows, catching up to balance you as you stumble over to where the two of them were standing.

“So. Levi. Right, hi Levi.”

He’s mentally debating if he should stop you. You are very plastered and could potentially say something embarrassing. But there’s something so funny, so endearing about the determined little look on your face that he decides against it, letting you go on.

“You’re a man.”

He watches the confusion spread across Levi’s already strained face, his eyes flitting between you and Eren.

“And you, Erwin, are a man too. You two are men.”

“That’s correct, Y/N. You’re very perceptive.”

Eren tries his best to conceal his laughter, as you go on, talking to the two of them. You’re definitely worse than Annie.

“Marriage. It’s a thing, you know? And a man can do it. And a woman can too. And you are a man and he is a man and you can both do that. And we want to come to that. Like go to there.”

How did you get from talking about the lease to marriage?

“Eren. What is she going on about?”

“We’re going to sign the lease papers and mail them on our way out so we can leave. We have to be up early tomorrow and she literally cannot drink more. We were going to ask if you could let Kenny know tomorrow and tell him to be easy on us.”

“You drive here?”

“No. Train. We’ll be fine to get back, Levi. I got her.”

He nods. Eren doesn’t miss the look Erwin and Levi give each other as the two of you lock hands, tip-toeing into Kenny’s office. Of course Erwin told him.

The two of you quickly rush out, laughing as you run down the block before any of them notice. You slow down as you pass the corner, the two of you strolling the rest of the way down the block back to the train station. He can tell you’re winding down by the way you’re leaning against him, skipping steps.

The train car is empty, this being the last train leaving the station. He settles the two of you into the seats at the front, getting in first.

“Ren. Can I have the window?”

He nods, wordlessly changing seats with you. This seat’s better anyways. You look out the window. And he can look at you.

You lean over, your eyes drooping as you lean over. He’s not sure what it is, maybe Kenny’s rancid tequila is still running through his bloodstream, but he locks his hand with yours, pressing his fingers against the scar in between your knuckles.

“I…miss you, Y/N. Being your friend.”

He watches your expression drop, your eyes fluttering fully open.

“You don’t think we’re friends?”

“No! I mean, yes. I just didn’t realize you thought we were still friends. After everything that happened, the fight we had I just kind of- I don’t know.”

You’re quiet for some time and he can see the gears moving in your head. Your eyes are now pinched shut, your forehead scrunched in concentration. Maybe this was the right time to say this. Hopefully, you don’t even remember tomorrow.

“Are we in second grade, Ren? Do you really not think we’re friends?”

Of course. The words he said to you, the day you were sick.

“We are still friends. I just meant, it was different for the past few days. But today, this was…nice. I enjoyed it.”

You smile in response, the two of you leaning your heads against the back of the seats, the only sound being the whirring of the train behind you.

“Y/N. You wouldn’t really move out, would you?”

“I was hoping you forgot about that. It’s my fault. I kind of…get in my head sometimes, I don’t know.”

“About?”

“I thought you didn’t want me around. So I didn’t want to be around you. I thought you hated me or something.”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

His eyes are dark, the same way as when Levi mentioned you were looking for another roommate.

“I could never hate you.”

“I know, I just meant-”

“No. You clearly don’t know.”

You turn over to find an irritated look plastered on his face, his jaw clenched shut. You press your fingers against his shoulder, squeezing twice to get his attention. He flutters his eyes open, leaning down to look at you.

“You’re special to me. I don’t understand what I did that made you think I would ever make fun of you or hate you. You...piss me off when you say stuff like-”

He’s cut off by you placing your hand on his cheek, your eyes peering into his.

“Sorry, Ren.’

“S’okay. I know why you do it. But just remember, I’m not your stupid old roommates or your lame ex-boyfriend or anyone who ever made you feel that way. You and I are-”

“Friends.”

Not what he quite had in mind, but he’ll take it.

“Yeah. You can tell me anything.”

“Okay. You too.”

He sees you smile, your eyes wafting shut against his shoulders. He can feel the pit in his stomach burning, the exact same way it did every time you did something. When you smiled at him, fixed his hair, got him coffee. God, he still loves you.

“So Ren. Do you want to hang out after recess?”

“Shut up. You’re so corny, kitty.”

“Ew.”

The next morning, Eren makes you breakfast and you sing in the shower. Progress.

next part linked here

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