you’re just moving around the house, moomoo swaying near your french tip toes, fabric soft and light with every step. you’re tidying up, straightening the living room, then heading into the kitchen to check on what’s cooking. the stove is warm, a pot bubbling while you stir.
you don’t even notice it at first, but connie’s been staring. from his spot on the couch, tv on but long forgotten, his eyes never leave the way your moomoo hugs you when you bend over. it flows loose and easy until you stand back up, then it clings in between your ass for just a second, enough to make him bite his lip.
every trip you make past him, his gaze follows. the sound of the tv doesn’t matter. what matters is the way your hips sway, the little drag of fabric on the floor, the soft flash of your skin when the hem shifts too high.
you glance over once, catching him. “connie, you not even watchin your show no more.”
he leans back against the couch, grinning like he’s got nothing to hide. “can you blame me, mama? moomoo doin god’s work right now.”
you roll your eyes, trying to keep your focus, turning back to stir the pot. but you can feel his stare drilling into your back, heavy, greedy.
“you gon burn my dinner if you don’t quit distractin’ me,” you warn, shaking your head.
connie laughs low, stretching out, arm hanging over the back of the couch. “girl, forget the food… i’m tryna be full off you.”
you sigh, pretending to ignore him, when you suddenly feel him move. his footsteps shuffle across the hardwood, and before you can protest, his arms are around your waist, pulling you into him from behind.
“connie…” you mutter, trying to sound stern, but his voice is already brushing against your ear.
“i ain’t startin, ma,” he murmurs, lips ghosting your jaw. “i’m finishing.”
his hands tug at the fabric of your moomoo, hands sliding up the back of your thighs. you grab his wrist quickly, giving him a sharp look over your shoulder. “don’t be nasty in my kitchen.”
he only smirks, kissing your cheek, his palm cupping your ass through the thin fabric. “kitchen already hot, might as well let me turn it up.”
before you can swat at him again, he’s lifting you clean off your feet, the spoon clattering against the stove as you squeal.
“connie!”
he throws you over his shoulder, laughing when you kick lightly at his chest. “dinner can wait,” he says as he moves the pot off the burning eye and starts walking you straight to the couch. “i can’t.”
he drops you onto your feet near the couch, moomoo in a messy flutter. you barely catch your breath before he’s dropping onto his back into the couch, eyes dark, hands reaching for your thighs.
“connie, i swear—”
“shhh,” he cuts you off, dragging his hand under the moomoo up to your hips, kissing every inch of skin he has access to on the way. “sit down, ma. stop playin.”
before you can protest, he’s pulling you onto him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your thighs while you settle onto his face. with no hesitation his mouth is on you, tongue working like he’s been starving. your gasp breaks sharp, head falling back, your moomoo slipping off one shoulder while his hands hold your ass down on his face.
“papa—oh my god—” your voice cracks, nails digging into the cushions.
he groans into you, the sound vibrating against your clit, making your whole body jolt. the wet and messy sounds echo in the room, filling it with nothing but your moans and the obscene rhythm of him devouring you.
“slow down, i can’t—” you beg, but he doesn’t stop. if anything, he pulls you harder onto his face, refusing to let you escape.
the pressure builds fast, your thighs shaking, stomach tightening, and then you’re gone. orgasm crashing through you, loud and messy, hips grinding helplessly against his mouth as you cry out his name.
he holds you down through every wave, licking and sucking until your body goes limp, and moomoo clinging damply to your sides. when you finally look down, dazed, he’s grinning up at you with his chin glistening.
before you can catch your breath, he leans back against the couch arm, dick hard and straining against his sweats. he pats his lap, smirk lazy. “c’mon, ma. hop on.”
your legs are still shaky, but the hunger in his eyes drags you forward. you climb onto him and turn your back to him, moomoo bunched high at your waist again, and sink down onto his dick with a shuddering gasp.
“fuck,” connie groans, head tipping back. “that’s it. ride me just like that.”
you brace your hands on his thighs, bouncing slow at first, hips grinding. the couch creaks under the rhythm, your moans spilling louder.
then you hear it—the click of his phone unlocking. you glance back over your shoulder, wide eyed. “connie…”
he’s already holding it up, camera angled perfectly. your ass bouncing, his dick disappearing inside you, the moomoo clinging around your waist. “don’t look at me like that,” he pants. “you know i gotta save this.”
heat burns through you at the thought, making your pace quicken. the thrill of being recorded has your walls clenching tight around him, juices running down his thighs.
“that’s right,” he groans, free hand gripping your hip while the other films. “show out for me. show me how bad you need it.”
each bounce is louder than the last, the wet sound of skin on skin filling the air. the moomoo keeps fluttering around you, but all the camera sees is your ass working him like you’re made for it.
“goddamn, ma,” he hisses, biting his lip. “look at you—riding like you tryna kill me.”
you feel your orgasm building again, body trembling, and he knows it. he drops the phone low enough to keep the shot steady while his hand smacks down hard on your ass.
“cum for me baby,” he growls, voice breaking. “right fuckin now.”
you fall apart with a sharp cry, body seizing, cunt tightening around him as your orgasm drags you under. connie snarls, hips snapping up into you, the camera catching every second of your collapse.
“shit, i’m boutta cum—” he chokes, eyes glued to the screen as his own orgasm hits. “fuck, take it, ma, take all this nut.”
he holds you down hard, pumping into you until he’s spilling deep and messy. his thrusts grow sloppy, and he groans loud, phone tilted just enough to catch the creamy drip when he pulls back, showing it off like a prize.
he smacks your ass again, softer now, rubbing the sting out as he laughs breathlessly. “look at you. messy as hell and still the prettiest thing i ever seen. whole movie star in this moomoo, swear to god.”
the video ends with your moans and his laugh tangled together.
later, when you both regain your breath, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. he cleans you carefully with a warm rag, whispering soft praise as he goes. “my mamas. did so good for me. took it all like a pro.”
you slip back into your moomoo, the fabric flowing around you again like none of it happened.
back in the kitchen, you finish cooking the forgotten food, still flushed but steady now. connie leans against the island, breaking down weed, his fingers quick and practiced as he rolls.
he watches you for a beat, grin spreading across his face. “crazy how that moomoo had me riskin dinner like that. shit should come with a warning label.”
you look over your shoulder, laughing. “you so dumb.”
he licks the blunt closed, sparking it up. “dumb for you, though. can’t even front.”
the kitchen fills with smoke and the smell of food, the sound of your quiet humming mixing with the faint crackle of his blunt. connie exhales, lazy grin back on his face as his eyes wander down to the way your moomoo sways around your toes again.
“yeah,” he mutters, smirk tugging at his lips. “dinner and dessert, all in one night.”
you set the table simple, bowls and glasses clinking against the wood while connie takes his last hits. the food’s hot, steam curling up from the pot, and you plate it while he leans back in the island chair, blunt dangling lazy between his fingers.
“smell good, ma,” he says, eyes half lidded as he exhales a cloud toward the ceiling. “you really gon spoil me—feed me, fuck me, and tuck me in after?”
you shake your head, laughing as you slide his plate in front of him. “you act like you deserve all that.”
he grins, pointing at himself with the blunt. “i do though. i’m constance, baby.”
you roll your eyes but sit across from him, and for a while it’s just the sound of forks against plates and connie humming approval between bites. he leans back when he’s done, belly full, blunt relit, the smoke curling soft around the two of you.
after dinner, you rinse the dishes quick, moomoo swaying around your ankles, before he tugs at your nightgown. “c’mon. couch. show’s still playin.”
he flops down first, spreading out like he owns the whole thing, and you settle against him. his arm goes over your shoulder, blunt in his other hand as he scrolls back to whatever episode he pretended to watch earlier.
“see, i missed half of this ‘cause of you,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “moomoo came through and ruined my concentration.”
“you ruined your own concentration,” you mutter, curling into his side.
he chuckles, passing you the blunt, eyes flicking between the screen and you. “yeah… worth it, though.”
the room glows dim from the tv, soft smoke in the air, your belly warm from dinner and body still humming from earlier. connie’s laughter bubbles up now and then at the show, his chest shaking under your cheek. his fingers drum lazy circles on your arm, like he can’t stop touching you even when he’s focused on the screen.
at some point, your eyes get heavy, the soft rhythm of his breathing and the low murmur of the tv pulling you under. he notices, glancing down with a small smile.
“sleepy already?” he whispers, brushing a hand down your side.
you mumble something that sounds like “mmm,” and he laughs quietly, kissing the top of your head.
“sleep tight, ma. i’ll finish the episode for both of us.”
and he does—smoking slow, eyes on the screen, you tucked under his arm in your moomoo, until the credits roll and the night feels complete.
°~887 words, fluff, short excerpt from a longer story, hangout day (nails, food, shopping, smoke sesh), suggestive talk, etc°
༻18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽༺
The smell of monomer and hibiscus tea filled the air as you sat side-by-side in the plush pedicure chairs. Your hands were resting on the manicure stations, and for the first time, your sets were perfectly coordinated. You had chosen a stunning, mid-length acrylic in a deep, midnight blue, accented with shimmering glitter lines that caught the overhead LED lights like constellations. Beside you, his large hands were resting on the towel, his nails freshly manicured and painted that same, flat midnight blue—no glitter, just the plain, bold color.
He looked incredible. Even in the clinical lighting of the salon, he was so attractive. You found yourself staring, taking in the way his features seemed to spill over with a kind of effortless perfection—the crispness of his fresh fade, the sharp, dark line of his beard, and the way the blue polish made the smooth, brown tone of his skin look even deeper, even more radiant.
He was leaning back, one hand occupied by the technician and the other scrolling through an article on his phone. He was so secure in himself, so grounded in his masculinity, that he didn't even blink at the curious glances from other patrons. He was a real man—the kind who didn't need to perform toughness because he simply was tough. He was smart, always reading or learning something new, and he communicated with a clarity that made you feel safe. He was kind to the staff, cracking a small, respectful joke that had your nail tech giggling, and his consideration for you was a constant, steady thing in the background of your life.
You loved him so much it felt like a physical weight in your chest.
After the salon, he took you to that bistro you loved. The afternoon was bright, and the anticipation was already starting to coil in your stomach. You watched him across the table as he ate, his dark blue nails a constant visual reminder that he was yours and would do whatever you wanted. He kept you laughing the entire time, telling a story about a work mishap with such a witty delivery that you nearly choked on your drink.
He reached across the table, his thumb—painted that beautiful blue—catching a stray drop of sauce from the corner of your lip. He didn't just wipe it away; he lingered, his eyes dark and communicative, telling you exactly what he was thinking without saying a word.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, his voice a making the fine hairs on your arms stand up.
After lunch, you went to the home goods store. This was your favorite part of being with him—the domesticity. You walked through the aisles, and he was right there with you, picking out a new set of white towels and a heavy, weighted throw blanket for the bed. He was decisive, helping you choose the scents for the new candles—vanilla and bourbon—and the way he talked about your home, the space you shared, made you feel at peace.
Every time his blue-tipped hand brushed against yours while you reached for a vase or a set of glasses, a spark of heat shot up your arm. The anticipation was thick now, a heavy, sweet tension that sat low in your belly.
By the time you made it back to the car, the sun was beginning its slow, honey-colored descent. The sky was a bruised palette of purple and orange, casting long, dramatic shadows across the leather interior. He started the engine but didn't pull out of the parking spot yet. Instead, he reached into the center console and pulled out a pre-roll.
He lit it, the cherry glowing bright in the dimming light. He took a long, slow pull, the smoke curling around his head like a halo before he passed it to you. You took it, your blue glitter nails sparkling as you brought it to your lips, the earthy, sweet scent filling the small space of the car.
The silence between you was comfortable, filled only by the distant sounds of the evening and the soft rhythm of your breathing. You leaned your head back against the headrest, the high starting to settle in—a warm, fuzzy cloak that made everything feel soft and surreal. You turned your head to the side, watching him.
The sunset hit his profile perfectly. It highlighted the bridge of his nose, the fullness of his lips, and the way his throat moved when he swallowed. He looked like a god in this light—strong, intelligent, and utterly beautiful. You were staring, your heart in your eyes, unable to look away from the man who handled you with such care and fucked you with such devastating intensity.
He felt the weight of your gaze. He didn't turn his head right away; he just let out a slow plume of smoke, his fingers tapping a slow beat against the steering wheel. Finally, he turned. His hooded eyes met yours, dark and searching in the twilight. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—the look of a man who knew he was loved and wasn't afraid to revel in it.
"Why you lookin' at me like that?" he asked, his voice a deep, quiet drawl that seemed to curl in the very air between you.
You didn't blink. You just let the smoke escape your lips in a slow, ghostly trail, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you whispered, your voice thick and sweet with the lie.
He huffed a soft laugh, his hand reaching over to cup the back of your neck, his thumb—matching yours—tracing the sensitive skin behind your ear.
"Liar," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth. "We'll see how long you keep that energy when we get inside."
summary — it doesn’t matter what you do or what you wear, your man can’t help but to be enamored with you.
pairing — anthony joshua x black!fem!reader
DOING YOUR MAKEUP
“What?” You asked with a puzzled expression on your face.
You stood in the hotel’s bathroom, your makeup scattered across the granite countertop of the sink—you leaned in close to the mirror to trace the black lip liner over your lips.
“Nothing, just watching.” He placed his large hands on each side of your hips, pulling you back into his large frame.
He stares at you in the mirror as he rubs your hips soothingly. He loved watching you do your makeup, and he never fails to let you know you’re beautiful without it.
You pop your lips together, placing the cap on the lip liner and putting it in your makeup bag. You reach for the Fenty Beauty ‘Fuchsia Flex’ gloss and before you could open the bottle, Anthony stops you.
“Give me a kiss before you finish the rest of your lip stuff, yeah.”
“You mean my lip combo, Anthony?” You laughed looking at him in the mirror.
He lands a soft slap to your butt. “Come on, give your man some lips.”
“Ow.” You hiss jokingly, running your palm over your butt. “You’re so needy.”
You turn your head and crane your neck, puckering your lips for a kiss. You attempt to pull away, but his hand grips the bottom of your jaw.
You follow the rhythm of his insatiable kisses, moaning softly into his mouth. He pulls away with one last kiss to your lips.
“Mm, I love you.” He says against your lips.
“I love you too.”
AFTER A BOXING SESSION
Sweaty, out of breath, and thirsty—you sat on the bench in Anthony’s boxing gym attempting to catch your breath. You didn’t necessarily plan to workout with Anthony, but he convinced you with the promise of a shopping trip.
Anthony, on the other hand, stood shirtless and sweaty—his breathing controlled and steady. He walks towards you, extending his hand out to grab your gloved hands, helping you take them off.
Your eyes meets his to see him smiling down at you. “Why are you so smiley right now? You enjoy torturing me or something?”
He throws his head back his loud laugh filling the empty gym. “Come on, baby. You know which way I love torturing you this is not one of them.” He says matter-of-factly.
You slap his meaty thigh with the back of your palm. “You’re so nasty.”
“You love it.” He leans down and kisses your sweaty chest.
“Anthony!”
You knew he couldn’t care less about you being sweaty. He’d always claim to love how you smelled after a workout session.
“Come on, let’s go shower.” He pulls you up from the bench with ease, guiding you guys to the gym’s shower.
WEARING HIS CLOTHES
Anthony loved you in anything of his—his clothes, his hats, and his chains. You both were in the kitchen as he cooked dinner, you sat on top of the kitchen counter a bowl of prepared salad in your lap.
“Taste.” He says guiding the wooden spoon to your mouth.
You lean forward, your lips ever so lightly wrapped around the edge of the wooden spoon. As the savory taste of the gravy hits your tongue, you nod your head in approval.
“Big daddy can cook!” You clap your middle and thumb finger together as a way of complimenting him.
“I just might have more than a compliment for the chef later.”
He grins widely watching you grab plates for the both you, his eyes scanning you. “Just might?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, baby.” You tease, wiggling your ass out to him.
You both burst out laughing and finish the last touches of dinner to eat. You and Anthony sat together and ate dinner, enjoying each other’s company, sharing laughs, and discussing future plans.
“You look good in my clothes.” He admits in admiration.
“Our clothes, baby.” You press a kiss to his lips.
He laughed watching you walk to the sink, his grey sweats fitted loosely on your body. Even though he was sizes bigger than you, they seemed to fit perfectly on you in his eyes.
“You need to start leaving them here more often, you have too many sweats anyways.”
“Come and get this one off the chef then, yeah?” He leans back into the chair and spreads his legs wide.
and if i say best!friend jermajesty has been writing poems about reader since they were kids, would you guys fuck with the idea or beat me up?
i think i might explore them more especially their past because it’s genuinely cute as shit. he’s so obsessed with reader and everything that makes you who you are. you think he’s just being nice, nooo baby that’s your man.
"Good morning, sweethearts." Reiner says quietly as he walks into the bedroom, holding a tray of breakfast with fresh strawberries.
The sun shines brightly through the large window of your bedroom as you sit in the chair, crocheting a soft blanket for your baby girl. You look down at your pregnant belly. You were quite obviously pregnant at this point, being 8 months, and you look back up at him with a small smile.
"You know she can't hear you from way over there, right?" He smiles back, walking to sit the tray of food in front of you and kneeling down to touch your belly.
"I think she can.. maybe if I talk louder?" He teases and puts his mouth closer to your belly.
"I said good morning, sweetheart." He says louder.
"Hm.. usually, if I'm that close, she'll move." He pouts, and you giggle, running your fingers into his hair.
"She's probably sleeping, Rei."
"Right." He says, planting a soft kiss on your belly before standing once again, looking at the tray.
"I went out and picked those strawberries from the garden this morning, so they're really fresh." He says before giving you one and stealing one for himself.
After you finished eating the food he'd brought you, he took the tray, cleaning it up before coming back in front of you, reaching both his hands out to you.
"Come on, princess." You take his hands as he helps pull you up from the seat gently, his hand coming up to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
"I figured we could go out today, do a little shopping, get the baby some things. She'll be here before we know it. If you're up to it, of course."
"Okay." You say happily, and he leans down to kiss your lips softly.
"You're so beautiful." He says, looking at the smile on your face.
You both get dressed, you put on a long sundress, the material hugging your figure and you look at yourself in the mirror, hand on top of your belly as you study your reflection, trying to be positive about your changing body.
As if he could read your mind, Reiner comes up behind you, brushing your hair to the side as he leans down, kissing the side of your neck softly.
"Stop it, you look perfect, as beautiful as always." He says, wrapping his arms around you.
"You ready to go darlin'?"
You nod in response to his question, sweet smile crossing your lips as you look at him in the reflection, grateful for his reassurance. You both walk to the car together, and he opens the door for you, holding your hand as you get in.
"What about this?" Reiner says, making you turn around. You both had gotten to the baby clothing store just a few minutes ago.
You look at the little dress he's holding up, and you laugh a little, not sure if he's messing with you.
"You're joking, right?" He looks back at the dress, twirling it around to look at the front and back of it because he looks back to you.
"Yes?" He says almost like he's asking a question, and you pat his chest softly.
"That looks like something my grandma would wear, Reiner."
He lets out a soft chuckle and puts it back.
"I bet she'd like it." He says referring to the baby, and you roll your eyes amused at his playful tone.
"She's a baby, I don't think she'll care what she has on."
"What about this, then?" He says, holding up another outfit, something that's actually cute this time and you nod.
"Now, that's cute, let's get it." He smiles and throws the outfit over his forearm, clearly pleased with the fact that he picked out something cute.
You two continue to shop for a while, and you go get something to eat before heading back home for the night.
Reiner helps you sit on the couch, moving to take your shoes off for you and gently massaging your feet.
"I try to act like I'm calm, but in reality.. I'm kind of nervous." He admits as he looks up at you.
"Nervous? About what?" You ask, sitting up a bit.
"About being a father.. you know my dad wasn't there.. I didn't get to see what it's like to have a good dad.. what if I'm not good at it? What if she hates me?"
You lean forward, taking your feet from his hands and placing them back on the floor, reaching to cup his face in your hands lovingly.
"Don't ever think that, Rei.. she'd never ever hate you; there's no way she could. You'll be the best daddy in the whole world, and she'll be a little daddy's girl and tell everyone how her daddy's her hero. You're the greatest man I've ever met in my life. You'll do fine. I know it."
He leans into your touch, the look in his eyes telling you that everything you say means the world to him.
"She's also kicking the shit out of me right now, so she agrees.. no more bad thoughts, Rei.. we both love you very much. It's gonna be okay, okay?"
He nods softly. "Yes ma'am.. I love both of you too..very much."
summary: in which Gojo isn't the only one who gets bad headaches.
contents: sick!reader, reader has a headache (headache havers unite!), gojo being a caring partner but also being...gojo, throwing up but minor, mentions of pain, gojo takes care of reader, fluff, couple moments, mentions of boobs and gojo lying on them, pet names, reader wears a scarf and a bonnet (as well as gojo's blindfold).
note "this is my first jjk x reader so I hope that it, not only, fits within gojo's character, but that you all enjoy!
Being a Jujutsu sorcerer was not a task for the weak. You had come to learn that very early on, with having to train your body and technique to prepare for eventual run-ins with nasty curses, to running halfway across the world back to back just to meet them. And while, sure, the job did have its perks, one being the pay, even that at times seemed to lose its motivation.
Particularly now.
You leaned your temple against the cold edge of the bathroom sink, you attempt to gain some stability from the dizziness that clings to the pieces of your mind. It's the best that you can do in your current situation. Through the speaker of your phone, Ijichi's voice droans on as he regales you with the details of your new mission. The third one in the last two weeks. While you don't normally mind being tasked with a new assignment, especially given how it gave you a chance to unleash your cursed technique, right now? You feel the complete opposite.
The pain began on your right side, starting at your temple and working its way down to the nape of your neck. When the pain first hit, it felt like a train barreling into you and had nearly sent you falling to the ground. When your phone rang, it made you groan from the sound, something that hadn't let up since Ijichi began speaking. Your fingers felt tingly and that, on top of your poor vision when matched with the bright screen, had caused it to take embarrassingly long to hit answer.
As your stomach twisted and you felt your tongue grow heavy, causing a slight slur to your speech, you didn't even notice the subtle rise in cursed energy nor the sound of the bathroom door opening as a figure made their appearance known. Blearily, you looked up, wincing at the small bits of light that poured in from outside as, in his full glory, your boyfriend stood. His hair was pushed back as his signature blindfold shielded his eyes but rather than his usual black uniform he wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He must have just gotten in.
"There's my busy lady. Oh, how I had so longed for the day you would return and we would be together again. For dreams really do come true!" He said in a sing song voice.
While as much as you loved him, even with how annoying he can be, in this moment the idea of putting up with his antics made your pain flare up even more. With Gojo's dramatics came an increase in octave, something you held little care for.
"Satoru, love, please-" you grunted out, teeth grinding against one another as you lazily tracked your eyes towards your phone. "Ijichi, continue."
Unbeknownst to you, upon hearing the tremble in your voice, Gojo's eyes had locked onto your frame immediately. Behind his blindfold, his eyes scanned your frame, from your messily tied scarf that held back your hair, to the way you were slumped over, nearly falling off the toilet. In the faint lighting from the bedroom, your brown skin appeared less radiant than usual and more sickly, your eyes barely open with small tears lining the corners. But even through all this, you still tried to keep the conversation with Ijichi going, possibly even accepting a mission even though you've been run into the ground. At the sight, something pulled at Gojo's chest.
You hummed along absent-mindedly as Ijichi talked, rocking slightly as you felt your stomach curl and the tell-tale signs of nausea creep its way in. The thought of throwing your guts up while on the phone was too embarrassing to deal with, so you took in heavy breaths to stall the bodily motion. "Sure, that's fine-"
The sound of the phone being swiped from counter made you pause in alarm, watching as Gojo switched to phone from speaker and placed it to his ear. Before you could protest, something soft and warm fell over your eyes. As you blindly patted around your face, occasionally knocking them against Gojo's hips due to your close proximity, you were finally able to deduce that the fabric was in fact his blindfold. You let out a whine, attempting to garner some words to make a coherent sentence when you felt something rising up your throat.
Before you could, fully aware of what was about to occur but held no control over your body, you shot forward into the unknown. A retching sound echoed through the bathroom as you heaved your guts out into the plastic confines of what you assumed was a trash can. Where it came from, you have no idea, but you suspect that it was thankfully due to Gojo's quick reflexes. You feel a hand cup the back of your neck, adjusting any stray hairs that feel from under your scarf while the another hand rubbed your back. A gentle coo hit your ears over the sound of you throwing up, riddiling you with sweet nothingness as you finish.
With a grunt, you slump backwards, wincing at the motion. Your vision is still blocked by the fabric of the blindfold, and a part of you his happy for that as embarrassment curls in your stomach. While you and Gojo had been together for some time, the romantic aspect of it all was still relatively recent, nearing a year to be exact. And while you've seen each other under the weather on a few occasions, it was more so a simple fever and snotty nose here and there. Never when one of you was puking your guts out. Having the blindfold on saved you from viewing the potential look of disgust that might stare down at you.
For a moment, all you hear is an occasional rustle here and there, followed by the light patter of footsteps. Then the sound of the faucet before something cool is pressed against your face. At first, you jump at the sudden feeling, but sigh in relief when your flushed face registers the cold. "Stop thinking so hard," Gojo mutters as he wipes your face gently. "You'll only make your headache worse."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Is that coming from a headache specialist? I thought I claimed that title?" Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, as if the idea of being dethroned from his imaginary throne. However, even with all his dramatics, his voice remains low and soft. "Let's get you some water then into bed, cutie."
Your expression must have mirrored your disbelief at the pet name, feeling the complete opposite. Next thing you know, you feel Gojo pepper your face with kisses, caring very little for your slight sweatiness and your noticeable breath. Even as you complain, your cries go unheard.
"Kisses keep the pain away," he says in a sing-song voice, carrying a slight mocking tone to it as the words register in your mind. It's what you say to him when he has his bad days. "Now here we go!"
After rinsing out your mouth and suffering through the slight discomfort of being transferred from the bathroom to your bedroom, you could almost cry at feeling the silk sheets and pillows beneath you. You hear Gojo disappear for a moment before reappearing with another glass of water and pain relief medication, assisting you as you take both.
Reaching for the blindfold on your face, you move to take it off, only to be stopped by Gojo's firm but gentle grip.
"That's for you to keep on, dweeb." He stated like it was obvious. To further prove his point, he needlessly readjusted it to make it even more secure around your eyes. "You steal my clothes all the time without even asking, but as soon as I willingly offer something from my wardrobe, you're rushing to take it off. Givin' me mixed singles, woman."
"I'm not a dweeb," you grumble, fighting back a pout as you swat his hand away. "And it's not stealing if you're giving them on your free will. It's not my fault you can't say no."
"I can though! But then you do that pout thing---like right now, which isn't fair---and my chest gets tight and I have to fix it. Next thing I know, half my closest is gone."
"Sounds like a skills issue to me."
Instead of responding, you feel a weight drop onto to causing you to grunt in surprise. Of course your man child of a lover had to jump on you in your most vulnerable, placing all his weight and warmth on your frame. What was a girl to do?
You feel your arms moving to wrap around him before you know it.
"Do you want your bonnet?" You feel him mumble into your shoulder.
"No, my scarf will do for now." This earns you a hum in response. "Wear your sleep mask."
"It's dark in here though." Gojo huffs, but moves to follow your order anyway. You know, even in a fully dark room, sometimes extra coverage helps make him sleep more easily.
In that moment, the only sound is the pair of your soft breathing mingling as one and the soft noise of outside. The pain of your head is still there, but as your eyes grow heavier, you know you'll be free of it soon. Just as you feel your muscles begin to relax, a thought pops in your mind.
"Ijichi!" You cry in alarm, shifting Gojo just slightly.
An unamused grunt answers. "Calling out another man's name? And Ijichi at that. What does a guy have to do?" He asked rhetorically, pressing his face further into your chest.
You ignore him. "I have to finish getting more information about my upcoming mission-"
"No you don't, it's handle."
You pause, head laying on the pillow as you stare at him through the blindfold. You know he feels it, and you know he's choosing to ignore it. "Satoru."
"Hmm?"
"What did you do?"
"Whatever do you mean, lovey?"
"Gojo," you repeat, this time your tone shows you're in no mood for games.
He takes the hint. "You'll be happy to know that I, your fabulous boyfriend, handled the situation perfectly. Not only has your mission been given to another person, albeit not as capable as you but decent enough, but you've also been given two weeks off! Isn't that nice!"
"Satoru!" You gasp, hitting his shoulders in indignation, and then again when the cry he let's out sounds too dramatic for your taste. "Call him back right now."
"No. I'm comfy." To further prove his point, he snuggles further into your chest, nuzzling his cheek into your boobs with a dreamy sigh. Any other day, you might've caved instantly.
"Satoru-"
"No!" The white haired man cried, reaching the peak of his dramatics (or as much as he could without making your headache worse, how considerate of him). He flopped his head back onto your chest, his face scrunched up animatedly. "Besides, there's no reason too. I already told him to tell Yaga to stop cramping your workload, how giving you a breather is a necessity and not a request. Little they could do to argue me into changing my mind."
You blinked in response. "Satoru-"
But a finger pressed into your lips, cutting off your statement. "Shh, no more talking. It's time for my honeybun to rest. Doesn't sleep sound nice?"
He wasn't wrong, the idea did sound nice. Even more appealing when his muscular arms cradled your frame with care and he let out the softest sigh over just being able to rest with you (on top of you at that). You thought over the past few minutes in your head, how even when you were in your least attractive state, he still took care of you with little hesitation. How he made sure, even throughout his wild nature, to keep his voice leveled and your eyes covered from bright lights so as not to further drive your headache pains. How he called off work for you, making it known how even with how strong and capable you were, that you needed breaks and there would be no debates on the matter. How he cared for you through it all.
As you reached to scratch the base of his neck, you whispered. "Thank you."
A small rustle followed, then you felt a series of kisses line the edge of your jaw. "Don't mention it. Now go to sleep." He continued the act, moving from your jaw to your cheek to your neck and back. With grunt you let the actions lull you into a sleepy trance, a smile painted onto your face as slumber overcame you.
Synop: you and armin have to host the new years eve party this year, how fun could that be? (armin x black reader)
Word count 4k
Mentions of sex, but still a fluff/crack fic. the part 2 is at the bottom lmfao
sug says: ts is so silly LMFAO, if you’re trapped at a NYE party you don’t to be at, heres a good read!!
Why the fuck was it even an option to pick your house to throw the party?? You hated people. Even more so, you hated hearing drunk Eren cry to Mikasa about how sorry he is for the 8th fuck up of the week. Or Connie and Sasha scream singing Not Like Us since it came out as soon as any sort of liquor touched their lips. Or Annie's ass acting like her and Bert are too good to hang out with us. But won't stay at home when Reiner brings him out.
Why are we bringing no-home-training niggas into the house???
You thought to yourself, writing getting a bit messier as you pushed pen against paper. You were making a list for everything you and Armin would need to get done before everyone arrived around 6:30. It was easier to buy certain things on the day of (veggies for example) so your fridge isn't so packed. Not many places were open past 5 so you were trying to remember everything as 1pm rolled around.
You tapped the pen against the counter top as you scribbled what else the house will need. Extra napkins in case Connie conveniently forgets to bring something besides alcohol, Water bottles, set sticky notes out for when people bring food, the whole shabang.
Before you could voice how this was a lot and was driving you crazy, Armin was standing in front of you on the other side of the kitchen island with a nervous but curious smile. “Are you okay, y/n?” he asks, looking at the obvious annoyance on your face and the sound of pen scratching paper getting more aggressive by the minute.
You set the pen down, quickly turning to him with a smile. It’s not that you hated them, it’s just that you couldn’t leave once you were tired. It’s your house and they don’t exactly know when to leave. And on New Year's Eve? Hell, You knew they’d stay till damn near 4am. This was one of those holidays where nobody gave a fuck about alcohol poisoning. However, you care about your carpet and your nice couch.
“Yes baby, I’m fine.” You shuffle on your socks to slide around to the side of the counter to give your lovely boyfriend a fat kiss on the cheek. You hold his face in your palms, smiling softly. “Just a little stressed is all.”
Armin studied your face, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “A little?” He asked, placing his hands on your waist to pull you just a little closer. He knew you like the back of his hand and clearly something was up.
You scowl for a moment, trying to make sure he wasn’t dissing you. You watch his lips flatten for a moment as he quickly spoke up once more. “I can see it in your face, I’m here to help, not harm..” You knew that, but sometimes it was hard to remember that. Even more so forgetting to ask for help. Before you knew it, he hugged you gently, rubbing your lower back with warm hands.
You snake your arms around his shoulder, doodling hearts and stars against his back in return. “Just gotta get a lotta shit done..” You kiss his other cheek, seeing the smile creep onto his face and causing you to smile as well.
He nodded, hands sliding themselves up the underpart of your shirt. He continued to rub your back soothingly. “What else do you need me to do so far? I moved the card table into the basement with the extra chairs from the garage– I also made sure our car is in the garage so people can park off of the street as much as possible! I had to clean out some of the garage because–”
Before he could finish, you cut him off. “Because I don't want my house smelling like cigarettes or weed. ..Thank you sweetheart.” Now that was something you didn't have to ask for. Armin always tried to read your mind on what to do at least to take some weight off of your shoulders and you greatly appreciated it.
“I guess just get these few things from the store.. We need some extra decorations if you can stop by.. Dollar tree or something?” You let him go, turning to read the list aloud in case you were forgetting anything. I guess now would be the best time to send him out anyway.
“We just need a few balloons and I was going to get noise makers? I don’t want to pop confetti inside and its cold as fuck outside. I’m sure someone is gonna want to shoot a gun or make some kind of loud noise to start the year- Someone always does.” Last time it was Jean with the supervision of Marco considering he didn’t want any of the other drunks to do it. Jean could at least aim at the sky and not go overboard even with the liquor in his system.
You look down at the list, ripping the notepad paper in half to split groceries from to-dos. “Welch’s champagne if there’s any left, I don’t think one bottle is enough. Mikasa doesn’t drink much, Historia hardly drinks, Marco doesn’t drink too much either– But nobody wants to sit and drink pop all night. I like drinking it because it reminds me of being a kid– Dip for veggies! My God..” You quickly flipped the list of groceries over to write the kind on the back.
You don’t see him move, probably because your brain was moving a mile a minute, But you do hear the noise of the pantry open and close which causes you to look up and stop listing things aloud.
Armin slowly brings out extra napkins, forks, and paper plates that all read ‘2026. Even themed in gold and black like the previous decorations you had bought right after Christmas. “I bought them on my way from work last friday– I knew you had a lot to do today so I wanted to try to think of anything I could get to help.” He placed the bags onto the counter, also setting down red solo cups since they held more than any flimsy styrofoam cups.
He gave you a sympathetic smile. “I also have the rest of those decorations you wanted, the streamers to go above the door?” He set everything out on the island in front of you.
You freeze for a moment before sliding on your socks over to him. You almost tackle your poor boyfriend, hugging him and kissing him all over his face. “You are my hero. I love you so much Armin Arlert you don’t understand..” You cup his face in your hands once more, kissing him as passionately as you could.
Genuinely you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. He always helped, whether you asked or not. He cleans, he works and makes money, he is incredibly intelligent, loyal.. What else could you ask for?
His face lit up at your reaction, lapis eyes quickly shutting and hesitantly placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. You still made him so nervous. 3 years seemed long, but you had just moved in together around summertime last year. Your sudden acts of affection made him almost standoffish, Which was never on purpose! He just couldn’t help but get his words caught in his throat when it came to you.
You scratch at his undercut, pulling away to look at him happily. “I can set up decorations and shit while you go to the store. Thank you for always having my back baby..” You saw his woozy grin get even bigger, staring down at you with nothing less than love. You kiss his cheek for the final time, letting him go once more to set out the plates and napkins with the few you had bought.
“Alright, I’m going to take your car before I put that one in the driveway too, Is that okay–” He asked, moving to grab the keys that sat next to your purse. You were already standing on the counter, setting your blender on top of your cabinets for counter space. “Y/n!”
He quickly went over to you, hands hovering to help you down if you needed it. You began giggling, moving the veggie tray off of the top of the cabinets since it wasn't ever used until it was time for a party. “Armeeeeen I have it, Go to the store in my car!” You feel him lightly place his hands on your calves, helping you down anyway.
He kisses your temple, letting out a half sigh half chuckle before genuinely going to leave. “Okay, Okay. I love you, y/n!” He called as he slid on his shoes, putting his coat on as well.
“Love you most!” You wash off the veggie tray, setting it on the counter and beginning to write sticky notes for where crockpots and other items should go. Your cooler was already out for pop and the bottom drawer freezer was cleaned out for the stupid amount of liquor that would be brought. You kept the napkins on the island, taking the bag of decorations to the basement and going to set up.
Armin didn't come back till around three, shaking off the snow of his coat as you went out in pajamas to help grab all the bags. He filled the cooler with ice, watching you wash the veggies and cut them with a calmer look on your face. He smiled to himself, placing in the water bottles and case creme soda he bought for everyone. Everything you needed to do for the house was damn near done which gave you time to do your makeup and get dressed way before anyone got there.
“Do you mind moving some shit around in the basement? I cleaned the bathroom and put new hand soap in there but I think the couch needs to go against the wall and I have to cut these stupid–” You felt the irritation and anxiety to get everything done creep up your neck, sighing and placing the veggies in spare tupperware, splitting them up with walls of celery sticks so it wasn’t hard to place onto the tray.
“I got it, y/n. Play some music and take a deep breath..” He stood beside you, attempting to study the features on your face before you looked at him with an almost worn out expression. You were running yourself thin trying to do everything, but music would help the time go by faster.
“Sir yes sir,” You tease, seeing him shake his head with a small laugh before kissing your cheek and walking down to your furnished basement. You guys had a bar with cute little stools, a mounted TV, recliners and a dark brown u-shaped sofa. Armin made sure you got everything you wanted when you first moved in, slowly buying things with checks after the bills were paid.
He never let you pay for anything besides the few times you snatched the check at dinner before he could. Even then, He sent you money when the laundry needed done and your dryer was ass. Or leave his debit card on the TV stand for you to get groceries for the house, to fill up your tank. About 4 months of being moved in, your house was full of comfortable furniture, a new washer and dryer, a subwoofer, a PS5?
You were spoiled for sure, but he made sure you always got your way. It was hard enough getting you to relax and use your money on yourself since you won’t quit your job. [no shade, just knows he makes enough to take care of you.] So if you asked for things or mentioned you wanted something, he’d take care of it.
He made sure to rearrange the furniture for more space, leaving the card table near the adjacent corner of the bar so no one was too annoying to anyone watching the ball drop. However, most of the time when Armins friends came over, the TV had music blaring from it.
Everyone got there between 6:30 and 8 as assumed. You had made buffalo dip, letting everyone else figure out something different to bring a little before Christmas. Ymir and Historia were there right on time, Historia held cookies and cheesecake in hand while Ymir held a bottle of Everclear and a case of cherry coke.
Then came Mikasa and Eren around 6:45. Mikasa had made crab and lobster stuffed mushrooms, holding a casserole dish full of them. Eren had a huge charcuterie board full of different cheese, crackers, and lunch meat which was also greatly appreciated. Connie and Sasha came in around 7ish, obviously already pre-gaming with an already opened bottle of titos, bacardi, and shopping bags full of chips and store bought salsa and queso.
“Who’s ready to parrrtayyy??” Sasha yelled as she walked in, Connie cheering to pack her up which followed with everyone else cheering. They were definitely tipsy, but Connie looked stoned off his ass and Sasha’s first stop was gonna be the kitchen no matter what. You snickered, helping the two with their bags and pouring the queso into a smaller crockpot under your microwave so that it was warm.
Sasha picked at the celery on the tray before eyeing the dip and quickling going over to it. Connie stayed in the living room for a moment, saying what's up to everyone before going to make himself a plate and setting the liquor in the freezer for now. No one else had begun eating until the rest of the food got there, but Connie and Sasha made sure to stay huddled in the kitchen corner so your carpet wasn’t ruined.
Somewhere between 7:15 and 7:30, Annie, Bert, and Reiner all walked in with different items in hand. Annie held two things of paper towels, Reiner held a bottle of whiskey, jesus christ how much liquor do we need, and Bert happily held a tin casserole dish of taco dip. And finally closer to 8, Marco and Jean came in with extra cases of soda and extra cups.
As everyone made their plate and caught up on whatever they had missed in the last few months, they went downstairs to the card table, bar, and coffee table. You had showered and felt a lot better before everyone had gotten there, smoking half a blunt to calm your nerves in the garage with your not-so weed smoking boyfriend.
It was fun to see his eyes become glossy and low after only a few hits. You two didn’t smoke together often, he was more of a drinker if anything. But you were stressed and it was cold in the garage so it’s not like he was leaving you out there by yourself! .. Plus it’d calm his nerves as well so why not?
Eren walked back up the stairs with empty plates, tossing them into the trashcan before carrying three bottles of liquor downstairs without a word. You couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Connie and Armin meet him halfway on the stairs to help him carry everything. Mikasa stopped her conversation with Historia, leaning forward off of the couch as vigilant eyes squinted at the basement door. Was her boyfriend trying to sneak back downstairs??
“Did he just?” She got up, her/his jacket resting on her shoulders more as a cape than actually on. You nod, watching her follow them down the stairs and a surprised yelp come from Armin and Eren as if almost in trouble by their mother. You could hear music starting to play from the subwoofer, volume getting louder through the door.
You hung out upstairs, finally eating your food after talking to everyone and being forced to take at least two shots before eating by the group since ‘everyone was doing it’. Fuckin bullies.. Cocoa colored eyes follow Ymir as she snatched her own bottle from the freezer as if it was a trophy. “Cards downstairs, y/n?” She asked, smiling and opening the bottle before grabbing a few solo cups.
“Should be a pack of red ones on the table.” You spoke behind your hand, watching her smile get even bigger. She opened the door, stopping and holding the doorknob with the opposite hand before turning to her girlfriend sitting in the living room. “Please baby?”
Historia sighed in defeat, laughing a bit as a light blush laid against her cheeks from the few shots she had taken. She knew if she went they’d just make her drink more, but she decided to leave the living room and slowly shuffle on her socks into the kitchen anyway.
“Let me make f..food first..” She giggled, sliding past you to get a plate and get herself some carrots and broccoli, swaying and humming to herself as she put some dip on her plate with a plastic unused spoon.
Ymir smirked, half running down the stairs to see who wanted their ass kicked in cards. You look over to Historia, already looking at you with a happy smile. “Thank you for letting us all hang out here y/n, I know Armin said it first but I know it’s a two person thing.. ‘n your buffalo dip is soooo good!” She scooped some onto her new plate, having only really picked at the food earlier.
You let out a small laugh, leaning your back against the sink. “Thank you, I’ll make it again for the superbowl if you want?” She nodded happily, opening the fridge to see the fake champagne. She looked over at you for permission, not wanting to be bullied into any more shots by her friends, girlfriend and just fomo in general. “Yes you can take it downstairs, Take the rose one,” You slide her a cup, watching her happily grab the bottle and place the cup on top before grabbing her plate.
“Wait!” She squealed, setting the plate back down before turning to find something. She turned back to her plate, taking a carrot before looking up at you. “Do you have a marker?” You tilt your head, nodding and pulling one from your miscellaneous drawer. She quickly tossed the carrot into her mouth, scribbling out the word champagne before staring at it in satisfaction. She left the marker on the counter, bringing everything downstairs as she continued to slightly sway.
Eren, Jean, Connie, Armin, and Sasha were definitely getting a little too turnt the fuck up, you could hear them louder and louder as the music changed. Armin didn’t dislike rap, however he was sure as hell going with whatever shit Connie or Eren picked next. You could hear Reiner join in, Annie and Bert had walked down a while ago so it was really just you upstairs by this point.
As you began unplugging the crockpots so you could go downstairs, there was a commotion at your basement door. You open it to see Connie and Sasha drunkenly fumbling up the stairs to ask for you to make them plates because 'you do it best'. You didn’t mind, laughing and helping the two up as they stayed glued at the hip and didn’t seem to let go of each other out of fear of falling.. Even though it had already happened. You make sure to make the two of them big plates, turning with both in hand to see Sasha eating cheesecake on a napkin and with her hand.
“Thmnak you *smack* y/n, this ‘s so good-” Sasha spoke, closing her eyes as she toddled back and forth on her heels. Connie laughed at how quick she was to eat, watching her turn and fall near the trash can as she tried to dunk in the napkin. You let out a small laugh as well, setting their food down to help her up. “You two go downstairs, I’ll bring them okay?”
Connie fell to the floor laughing, causing Sasha to lean against you in a fit of giggles as well. You glance at the clock, seeing it had only been 10:30. “Yessss ma’am!” She pulled away from you, pointing and laughing at Connie before heading down the stairs slowly and carefully.
After his laughing fit, he held open the door for you since you were carrying two full ass plates. You smile and thank him, walking down. Ymir, Marco, Jean, Annie and Reiner were all playing a game of cards in the corner with a solo cup next to everyone at the table. You already knew who was actually drinking and who hadn't been.
You head over to the bar, setting the plates down where Armin was standing with his arms on the counter from the inside. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, quickly walking over to take a plate and set it on top of the counter. Sasha quickly ran over to start eating, Connie stumbling over to do the same.
“There you are..” His eyes weren’t as low, but they were definitely glossy from whatever he had been drinking. He hugged you close, resting his head atop of yours and pulling you as close as he could. “We miissed youuuu..” His smile was loopy, looking down at you with eyes still full of love. He wasn’t incoherent, but he was definitely more clingy when drunk. Not that it was bad, you just had to make sure his friends weren’t aware of how handys he can get.
Eren was looking up different songs on YouTube, Mikasa sitting beside him and hiding a bottle behind the couch. You could see the reflection of light on the glass, watching Eren absentmindedly look for it before a small noise came from the TV when he did end up selecting something.
“I missed you too, my big baby.” You let out a soft giggle. Throughout the night you had smoked with Connie, Eren, Reiner, and Armin. Everyone else didn’t fuck with weed like that, Ymir, Berthodlt, and Jean smoked occasionally but their preference was mostly vapes and or cigarettes which you guys would smoke before them because the smell of weed is nothin compared to a fuckin cigarette.
Historia didn’t smoke, Mikasa didn’t enjoy being high because it makes her anxious and Annie has this fruity flavored vape she hardly hit. But you were definitely still high. Armin didn’t look to be but he stopped early to check on the others so that probably is why he's more drunk than anything.
He pulled away, kissing your cheek and down your neck with a happy smile at the sight of you as you thought to yourself. “You look so pretty in this outfit, should let me take it off..” He mumbled into your ear, chuckling as he slid his hands under your shirt. You giggle, grabbing his wrists to keep his hands out of your shirt. He pouted as you spoke, eyes staring down at your lips as you spoke. “Hey, We have a room full of guests. Wait like.. two hours for me?”
Armin quickly smiles, nodding and moving to hold you by your belt loops. “I can wait forever for you..” He kissed your forehead, kissing down to your cheek and then your lips. You melt into it, giggling quietly and holding him close before hearing the Ad stop. There was only about 5 seconds of non-TV noise, but within so, you could hear Connie speak up.
“You guys gonna fuck right in front of me and Sasha’s food?” You pulled away, looking over at him with a squint and hearing Sasha die laughing. He looked at the TV in fear of looking at you any longer, sputtering and laughing as well. Armin’s face turned bright red, obviously starting to come to as he unhooked his fingers and sheepishly hid behind you despite being taller.
“Shut the fuck up Connie–” You were cut off by the subwoofer going back to playing loudly with Eren, Reiner, and Connie all yelling.
“LISTEN TO THIS TRACK, BITCH!!”
You rolled your eyes so hard they might as well have fallen into your skull, walking over to the couch as Armin held your hand and followed you. “Maybe we don’t need noise makers.. Got four of 'em right here.” You motioned to the people yelling, listening to everyone else who knew the lyrics also start getting loud. Maybe a few more shots wouldn't hurt.
here's part two! kinda suggestive but still crack/fluff for sure.
♡ Reiner Braun x fem!reader (requested by @riribubuk ♡)
𓍯 ִֶָ 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓵 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓫𝓫𝓵𝓮, 𝓷𝓸 𝓼𝓶𝓾𝓽
You went over to your girlfriend's house a few days ago. There was a small little gathering with just a few other friends for her birthday. Both hers and her boyfriend's friends were there.
That's where you ended up meeting Reiner. You spotted him across the room through the crowd of people, and you noticed him looking at you, but you brushed it off. Maybe you accidentally made eye contact, not unusual. Even though it was a few times now.
However, the more you talked to your friend, sipping your drink, the more you felt his eyes still on you. You weren't sure if he was staring or if he just so happened to keep repeatedly looking at you. Maybe he's looking at you because he thinks you're looking at him.
Honestly, knowing him now, you think it's funny that back in the moment, it annoyed you.
You thought he was just being a dick and staring in a lame attempt to try to get your attention. Truthfully, he's just a big dork and kept trying to figure out how to come and talk to you. He didn't want to say something cliché or stupid. Luckily, you gave him no choice.
You turn your body in a way so that he couldn't read your lips as you talk to your friend.
"Is he over there starin' at me, or am I trippin'? I don't wanna look over there again cause I done already made eye contact with this man like five times." You say quietly.
Your friend looks from you, her eyes scanning around the room trying to figure out who you're talking about before she laughs, not making it obvious she figured it out.
"Girl, he's been looking at you this whole time. That's Reiner. He's a sweetheart. I'm sure he just thinks you're pretty."
"I don't like being stared at." You say sitting your cup down to walk over to him.
Once you get in front of him, he looks in your eyes, and you realize he's taller than he looks from a distance. You cross your arms.
"Why are you starin' at me?" You ask bluntly, and he immediately blushes. His reaction catches you off guard as you kind of expected some assholey response given his slightly intimidating appearance.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be weird, but you're very beautiful." He says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
You drop your hands, and you smile softly at the compliment.
"Oh.. thank you."
"You're welcome." He replies, you can tell he's still a bit embarrassed that you caught him staring even though to anyone else. He wasn't doing a very good job of hiding that he was doing so.
You decided to hang out with him for a while during the party. You two talked, and you realized he was actually quite smart, witty, and he was very handsome, so that's a plus.
"You know you could've come over and said something." You say teasing him a bit for staring earlier, and he lets out a soft chuckle, sipping his drink again.
"See, I was going to, but I didn't know what to say, I was trying to think of something.. that's why I was standing over here.. staring like a creep."
"Hmm.. right, that seems like the better option." You say sarcastically, and he shrugs.
"It got you to come over here and talk to me." You look at him, rolling your eyes before you stand up, getting ready to leave as it was getting late, and you had classes in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah.." You smirk. "I really came over here annoyed that you were staring.. luckily, you're sweet."
He laughs, and he takes your hand softly, seeing you're getting ready to go.
"Can I walk you to your car.. it's dark out."
"Sure, you don't have to, though, if you wanted to stay." He releases your hand, letting your fingers slip from his and stands up from his seat, finishing his drink.
"It's cool. I should get home anyway. Work tomorrow." You nod, and you both say your goodbyes before heading out.
Once you get to your car you open the door and he places his hand on the roof of your car, tilting his head to see you.
"Would you wanna go on a date tomorrow.. with me?" He asks, and you nod once again.
"Sure, but I got classes till 2:30."
"Fine by me, I got work so would 4 o'clock work? It's a family-owned bakery just up the road from here. They have really good coffee."
He's very sweet, very respectful, and honestly, you'd love to see him again, so you smile, agreeing to meet him at the coffee shop tomorrow.
"Cool." He says, hiding how ecstatic he is that you agreed, taking his hand off your car.
"Cool." You respond, feeling your heart flutter a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow. Text me the name of the place, okay?" You say reaching to pull your phone out your bag, handing it to him for his number.
"Will do, princess." He says, putting his number in, and you immediately text him so he'd have your number, too.
Once you drive off, he pulls his phone out, looking at the message, and it's a simple message.
"Don't forget. ☕️❤️."
He smiles at it, saving your number in his phone.
The next day, after he gets off work and you get home from your classes, he texts you the name of the place. You smile, happy that he hadn't forgotten. First dates always made you nervous, never really knowing what you'd get yourself into, but you got a good feeling from this one, from him.
You met him at the bakery, the smell of sweets and coffee filling your nose, and it was perfect for this time of the year now that it's cold outside. He was a gentleman, holding the door open for you, paying for everything, and pulling a chair out for you before taking a seat himself.
You'd been on dates before where the person acted as if they didn't have anything to talk about and even on some where they had no interest in letting you speak and only wanted to talk about themselves.
It was different with Reiner, though. He wanted to hear everything about you. Your childhood, your family life, the things you liked and hated, your quirks, and hobbies. Everything you would tell him, he'd respond as if you were the highlight of his week.
He'd talk to you about his childhood, about the reasons he wasn't very close with his mother and the reasons why his father wasn't really around but whenever he could sense the sympathy in your gaze and your voice, he'd take your hand gently, reassuring you that it's fine and that he's better off this way. He'd tell you stories of his childhood and his teenage years in middle and high school, and he seemed so dorky back then that you couldn't help but laugh and tease him for it in response.
He'd laugh with you, making fun of some of the stories you'd tell him too but you both knew it was just lighthearted fun.
The time seemed to fly by with him, not even noticing you both had stayed until the bakery was closing up. It was around 7:30 now, and you both just decided to continue walking around the city, the Christmas lights illuminating the city along with the chatter of the other people enjoying a night out together.
He'd asked if he could hold your hand at one point and he noticed your hands were freezing.
"Forgot my gloves.." You say when he makes a comment about it, and he stops walking for a moment, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you. Your mouth is slightly covered by the large piece of fabric as you look up at him, and he laughs softly at how cute you look. He reaches into his pocket, taking out a pair of his gloves and slipping them onto your hands. The gloves were huge on you, but it did help with the cold.
"Thank you." You mutter behind the scarf, and he nods.
"Of course, princess." He says, taking your hand again. His large hands furthered the heat you felt in your hands that were just freezing cold.
That moment, you realized you'd love to see him again and again and again, and he felt the same way, hoping he could have you around for weeks, months, and even years to come.
