Attack on One-shots

Slurrs. Bertolt x Reader

EDITED
Modern.
College.
Bertolt is the same age as you. Hanji is a year younger.
(F/F) = Favorite flavor

Party. My apartment. 7. The text you receive from one of your friends, Jean, shows up on your lock screen. "Another? That's been the third party in a week!" You say aloud, sitting on your bed in your room. It was beginning to astound you on how his parents let him get away with all of those parties, considering the messes that people leave behind. You have never actually attended these parties. Hell, you haven't even been to a party since you were 8, but you did have an idea what happened after.

"(Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN)!!!!!!!" Your crazy roommate Hanji shouts, opening your door so fast that it slams into the wall.

"Hanji!" You yell laughing. "Calm down!" Hanji's glasses are halfway on her face, locks of hair fallen out of her ponytail, and there is a large hand print on her thigh facing downwards that looks like she smacked her thigh with chalk. "What were you doing?!"

"That doesn't matter right now! What matters is if you're going to Jean's party! You haven't been to any, and I really want to you go!"

"I don't know... I'm not really the partying type anymore. Plus I don't want to get in trouble with the school or anything since there is probably going to be alcohol, and most of us are underage." Hanji looks at you, uninterested with an eyebrow raised.

"But you aren't underage, so why would you get in trouble?" She asks curiously. She has a good point. You are 21 years old. You even have the license to prove it. Thing is, even if you are of aged, you can still get taken in for being at a party with underage drinkers. Plus it's going to be late at night, so people will most definitely call the police because of the loud music.

"I don't know," you think aloud, not really sure on your decision.

"Bertolt might be there." Hanji wiggles her eyebrows.

"I don't have a crush on him. He's cute and all, but I see him as a friend. Nothing else." You stand up and walk to your closet, making your final decision. You know you'll probably regret it, but whatever.

"What're you doing?" Hanji asks, closely examining your actions.

"Choosing an outfit for tonight," you reply plainly, not taking your eyes off your closet for even a brief second.

"Eek! I'm so glad you're coming! You won't regret it!" She slams the door behind her, and proceeds to squeal as the sound of her footsteps decrease until you can't hear her walking at all.

"I'm so gonna regret this," you mumble.

***

"Hey guys! Glad you could make it!" Jean yells over the loud music, beer in hand. Marco leans on his shoulder for support, looking drunk as ever, laughing hysterically. People are scattered around the living space, some with red solo cups, others with cans, and most with bottles like Jean. You hesitate, but soon step in, the smell of alcohol filling up your nose, making your eyes water. You spot Bertolt by the shots, and immediately walk over to him.

"Hey Bertie!" You yell happily. He turns to look at you.

"Hey (Y/N)! I didn't know you'd be here!" He yells back, a wide smile plastered on his face. You laugh.

"To be honest, I didn't know I'd be here either." You move so you are next to Bertolt, and you sit down on a stool.

"Want one?"

"Which one's the best?" You scan over all the different sized bottles of alcohol. Some are flavored like cotton candy or mint, and others are just their normal bitter taste.

"In my opinion (f/f) vodka is." That sparks your interest; it's your favorite flavor put into vodka.

"Okay I guess I'll try it." Bertolt pours the vodka into a little glass cup and hands it to you. You put the small shot glass up to your nose, and inhale the scent. It's bitter smelling, but you can still smell the (f/f). "Here goes nothing." You take the shot and squeeze your eyes shut as the strong liquid slides down your throat, burning your esophagus.

"Well?" Bertolt looks at you for an answer.

"It's strong, but really good," you answer truthfully. The taste doesn't leave your mouth, and you enjoy it, so you decide to take another. You fill the shot glass again and let the liquid fly down your throat. As the numbers of shots increase, the control over your body decreases until it is all gone. Luckily Bertolt is next to you.

"I think you've had enough (Y/N). How many did you even have so far?" Bertolt asks as he sees your slumped body.

"Sssssssssseventy four," you slur giggling and standing up from the stool, only to fall into Bertolt.

"Whoa there." He chuckles holding you upright. You look up at him, and cheekily smile as you put your hands on either sides of his face.

"Youhavesoftcheeeeeeeks."

"And you have soft hair, now c'mon, I'm going to drive you home." Bertolt begins to lead you to the door, but you stand in place. He turns around to look at you, and you giggle once again.

"Bertie's being borrrrrrrring!" You yell, pointing to him. He speeds over, and pulls you close, looking straight into your (E/C) irises.

"(Y/N) you need to listen to me. I'm taking you home because you're too drunk to be here. I don't want you making the wrong choices." Bertolt places his hand on the small of your back, and slowly pushes you forward. You don't budge; only your back moves forward.

"No! I'm notleaving!" (A/N The two mashed words are showing that she's slurring)

Bertolt sighs. "Then you leave me no choice." He swoops you up bridal style, and weaves his way through the crowd to the front door, careful not to hit you against anyone or anything. You laugh the whole way, flailing your arms as if you are on a fast roller coaster. Bertolt, tightening his grip, makes sure you won't fall. You stop moving completely and stare at his complexion. Black, shaggy hair rests above his ears and eyes and goes further down his neck in the back to the end of his ears. His head holds big, gray eyes and a round, tan face. He is indeed attractive.

He arrives at the passenger side of his car and places you upright, then proceeds to open the door for you.

"You're preeetty," you giggle, and Bertolt blushes.

"T-thanks," he stutters, scratching the back of his neck. You sloppily enter the car, hitting your head on the top. "Be careful." Bertolt enters on the driver's side, and buckles himself in before inserting the key into the ignition. You put your seatbelt on.

"I-I'mbuckled uppp!"

***

Instead of dropping you off at your apartment, Bertolt makes the decision of taking you to his place to take care of you. He can't bare leaving you alone, knowing at any moment you could throw up, and he wants to be there to help you in any way he can. As if reading his mind, you run straight into the room, searching for the bathroom right after he unlocks the door. You find it, and immediately stick your head in the toilet bowl, getting rid of all the drinks and food you had before. Bertolt follows behind, and holds your hair behind you, rubbing your back the whole time. "Let it all out," he coos.

As time passes sitting in the bathroom together seeing if you are going to throw up again, Bertolt gives you a cup and mouthwash to let you get the foul taste out of your mouth since you don't have your toothbrush, and he doesn't have any extras. He still refuses to let you go home, but you try to convince him that you're fine. Before you can get to the front door, you sit on the couch to "catch your breath" and end up falling fast asleep. Bertolt picks you up, brings you to his room, and tucks you into his bed, kissing you on the forehead before he leaves. He sets himself up the couch, and falls asleep instantly thinks, You're going to have one hell of a morning (Y/N).

~*~*~
Woo! Got another one done! Thanks for reading!