★ ˗ˏˋ FOR YOU? ALWAYS ˎˊ˗

summary: a desperate jail visit forces you to face your self-loathing boyfriend who would rather rot inside than hurt anyone else

tags: modern au. crime. jail. angst. hurt comfort. mentions of physical violence. self-loathing. no smut. somewhat comforting ending.

It was late.

Reiner told you he’d be home hours ago.

“Baby, pick up,” you muttered to yourself in the dark quiet of your room. You sat on the edge of your bed with the phone pressed so hard to your ear it hurt. Your heel repeatedly knocked against the rough fibers of your carpet, urging for his voice to come through.

Voicemail again. It was already your seventh.

“Reiner, please tell me you’re safe,” you pleaded with a strained voice after the beep. “Text me, call me please. I need to know you’re okay.”

Right as you left that message, Pieck’s name flashed across your screen. Your heart plummeted to your stomach before you could even swipe the glass to answer.

“Reiner was arrested,” was all you could make out.

That was four nights ago.

But sitting in the cold visiting room, the days felt like nothing but static, all blurring into one.

You hadn’t slept. You had spent the last ninety-six hours hearing bits and pieces of a story from Reiner through the agonizing static of an overused wall phone, trying to soothe the tears of Falco and Gabi, all while practically begging his mother, Karina, to just be there for her son.

And that blur only faded with the rough shuffling of papers from the judge to the clerk in a crowded courtroom yesterday morning. The judge never even looked at Reiner, who stood before him, but he certainly took one good look at his rap sheet and set the bail.

$35,000.

Reiner didn’t even lift his head to look at you as they led him out in cuffs. You could see the dark circle under his heavy-hooded eye when the sharp side of his profile came to view. You knew, just like you, he hadn’t slept either.

Now, the heavy door clicked shut behind the plexiglass, and he had no choice but to face you.

An officer walked closely behind him, guiding him to his seat with his arm tugged around his. The officer removed his cuffs and mouthed a few words to him you couldn’t make out. He turned to stand behind Reiner and against the wall, the bottom of his shoe pressed against it.

He slid into the metal chair, his hazel eyes jumping between you and the metal counter in front of him.

You’d seen him in that faded orange cotton before. Tragic, but the predicaments were different—“fair for everyone,” he always described them. Once, it was Annie’s dad would throw her out if he found out what she did, so Reiner took the rap. Another time, it was Porco’s anger spiraling out of control, so he covered for him because he felt he owed him an unspoken debt. And last, he had just lost Bert, so he got drunk to drown out the grief, and ended up getting in a pointless, messy bar fight.

These were all “in the cell for two to three days, and out the next day” kind of moments, leaving him to work late nights to pay the fines. Those same nights always ending with him crawling into your bed, holding you tight with your back pressed against his bare chest as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting all his tears fall against your skin and onto the pillow.

And like a fool madly in love with a boy who loved you more than he even liked himself, you took him back every time.

But this wasn't a petty misdemeanor. This wasn't taking the blame for property damage or a drunk-and-disorderly charge.

This time, the purple bruises and severe splits on his knuckles had actually belonged to him. And only him.

Your eyes trailed from your counter to him sitting across from you. His blonde hair was messy and unkempt. He was never one to take time with his hair in the morning, but you could tell he hadn’t looked at himself in a mirror over these past few days. Shadows pooled heavily beneath his sunken eyes, making his cheekbones look sharp, almost gaunt against his skin. And the stubble along his jaw and chin had aggressively crept up to his cheeks.

You both reached for the phone and pressed it to your ears. The sound of his soft breaths through the receiver channeled tears to well in your eyes. Your fingers trembled, but you regained control, tightening your grip around the handset.

He eyed you, pupils moving steadily to study your face, opening ever slightly as if he placed a new detail. You tried tugging a smile on one side of your mouth, but your cheeks felt stiff.

He pressed his hand to the glass, palm spread across the divider.

“Are you okay?” he spoke lowly, breaking the heavy silence. His brows were furrowed.

You swallowed the lump wedged in your throat. “I’m trying to be, Rei,” you breathed, holding back the sob that wanted to pour from your lips. “I’m trying to be strong for everyone out here, but I miss you, and it’s hard.”

“I know, I know,” he responded, voice cracking. “I miss you, too. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

His hand was still pressed against the glass. You wanted to move your hand to mirror his, but your arm felt like lead.

He nodded to himself, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. His heavy sigh pinged in your ear as he pulled his hand away from the glass, setting it back on the metal counter.

His eyes left yours, staring down at his own hand. He flexed his fingers slowly, tracing the dark, purple discoloration across his knuckles.

“Are the kids okay?” he asked.

“They’re trying to be okay. One minute it’s Gabi crying, the next it’s Falco…And then I look again, and they’re both crying.”

His grip over the handset tightened, the cuts on his knuckles splitting even further. He pulled his hand from the counter and rubbed it roughly over his face, tracing his hairline.

“God, I’m so stupid,” he muttered, the crease between his brows appearing harshly.

The itch in your throat wanted to argue it, but you scratched it by swallowing it down instead, letting his words burn in your ear, remaining silent.

“Have you heard from my mom? Was she even there yesterday?”

You closed your eyes, grimacing at the cruel trap of his questions. Questions you had every answer to—the ones he would accept and let destroy him further. And worst of all, he already knew the answers. He just opted for his worst fears to come out of your mouth rather than be conjured up by his own mind.

“Rei…” was all that left your lips, opening your eyes softly to offer the sympathy your words couldn't.

He understood it perfectly, balling his fist and dropping it to the metal counter with the little force he had left. You glanced at the officer behind, who was startled by the slam on his side, hissing a few words to him. Reiner didn't turn his head and just nodded. A wet drop landed across his knuckles.

“Look, Rei, we’re working to get the bail. Jean, Pieck, and I. We found a local bail bondsman that—"

“Baby, no, you guys aren't doing that." He shook his headd, still staring beneath him.

"What do you mean we're not?" you asked in one breath.

"I mean…" he lifted his head, staring almost through you. "You're not doing that. Not for me. Don't bring Jean, Pieck, or anybody into it. I’m not letting you pour your savings onto a bondsman's table. Just let me stay here, baby, please.”

“I’m not going to just let you rot in here.”

“I deserve too," his voice cracked, folding his neck, letting his head drop into his palm.

Your upper lip curled back, a silent sneer that showed just the tips of your teeth.

“Don’t you say that to me! Don’t you dare say that to me!" you barked, pulling back briefly to glance at the other visitors who were looking your way. You forced a deep exhale to escape you as you shifted your gaze back to him.

“It’s the truth, baby!" he cried, extending his hand out, palm up.

There was a deep slash at the center. Even that didn't stop his blows from coming down that night.

"Look at what I’m doing to you. Look at what I keep doing. I’m hurting you, my mom, the kids. My mom keeps declining my calls, and she’s ignoring you because she knows I'm—" His eyes moved back and forth, trying to find the words his mind wouldn't let him locate. "Everyone knows I’m just like how the judge sees me."

“I don’t care how the judge or your mother sees you," you admitted fiercely. “I see you, Rei. Your real friends see you. And the kids…they see you. You know they do. We need you home. Point blank period."

The tears on his cheeks were coming at an endless downpour. He was spiraling in front of you, chest heaving under his jumpsuit

“I put a man in the ICU—” He choked on a ragged breath. His voice dropped to a low whisper. "Pieck said the doctors think he’s gonna make it, he’s gonna live, but baby, I heard his ribs snap,and I didn't st—"

“Stop it, Rei. Be quiet," you hissed, your voice a desperate whisper.

But your mind had already betrayed you, instantly tracking to the night you got the call. You remembered the suffocating heat of Pieck's living room. Gabi and Falco curled on the couch, faces buried in their trembling hands. Through breathless sobs, they pieced together the horror at the gas station. The owner cornering and accusing Gabi of sneaking a candy bar in her pocket, Falco screaming at the top of his lungs that she didn't—

“I saw Gabi crying…" Reiner choked out, eyes wide and staring at the metal counter as if the scene was playing out right in front of him. "Falco screaming, and after that, everything went red—”

The owner grabbing roughly at Gabi's jacket, making her fall. Falco screaming for Reiner. And Reiner ultimately dragging the owner behind the counter. You knew the sickening crunch of every punch and kick, a brutal assault all captured by a security camera. You knew the heavy pleas that ripped from Gabi and Falco as they watched their biggest protector turn into a monster. And you knew the others in the gas station that day saw him the way he viewed himself for years.

You already knew the owner was going to live. But you knew too much, and the prison walls recording every single word could know too if he didn't stop talking.

“Reiner, listen to me!" you commanded, slamming your free hand against the plexiglass. The sharp slap echoed in the small booth. Your fingers tightened around the plastic handset so hard your own knuckles ached, turning white. You shot a panicked glance at the officer behind him, but the guard was entirely checked out, casually picking dirt from beneath his fingernails.

"Don't speak of that night. Talk to your lawyer. Only your lawyer."

Reiner's heaving chest slowed down. His head jerked to a pathetic nod; his heavy breaths rang through the receiver.

"Gabi is…" He couldn't finish.

"Blaming herself," You finished for him, unsure of where he was going. "She's blaming herself for the reason you're here, and she's going to keep thinking that if you continue pitying yourself and just choose to sit here."

His head dropped to his free hand.

"If you're not going to let us bail you out for your sake, then at least let us do it for Gabi's. For Falco's," your voice cracking as the tears finally spilled over your eyelashes. "They need to see you—in the light—and they need to hear you don't blame them. They deserve that."

You glanced at the officer behind him, mouthing the words: "Two minutes, Braun."

The countdown began to echo in your mind.

Reiner lifted his head from his palms. His hazel eyes were bloodshot.

"What if I scare them?" he whispered, his voice cracking on the final word. "What if they look at me and only see what I did."

You leaned closer to the plexiglass, hand still tight around the handset. Your eyes were locked onto his, refusing to let him drift away. Back home, when you would finally turn to face him after he buried your face into your neck and cried, you would stare into his eyes, immediately finding the flicker of hope between his hazel. Here between the scratched glass, it was harder to find, but you kept searching anyway.

"By staying in here Rei…that's all you're doing."

His breath hitched at the words. His gaze dropped to the metal counter before snapping back to yours with a sudden urgency.

"Look under the bed," he instructed. "You'll see a ring—my mother's. Trade it in, sell it. Use that money for the bondsman. Do not use any of your savings, baby, please. Promise me."

He slid his hand up the plexiglass, his broad palm spreading across the cold surface.

Your arm no longer felt like lead. You lifted yours, pressing it to the opposite side of the glass, perfectly mirroring his, though his hand was much bigger than yours.

"I promise," you breathed.

You watched as the officer behind him patted his shoulder, letting him know it was time to depart. To separate even further than you both already were.

He dropped his head briefly, eyes on the counter before they shot back in your direction. A very faint smile tugged at his lip, a tear slipping between the split of his mouth.

"I love you…I don't know why you're with me, but I love you," he spoke, the line clicking soon after. He placed the phone back on the hook.

You were with a man who refused to like himself enough to want better for himself. But he looked at you simply as his version of better. But you hoped that one day, one day in the dark, he would find it on his own.

With his eyes still on you, hot tears falling down your cheeks, and the phone pressed so hard to your ear, it hurt, you slowly mouthed the words, "I love you."

a/n: emphasis on REAL friends. i’ll never give reiner a break, i love him too much.

CW. Time Travel, Selfcest, Comfort, Kissing, Oral/Blowjob, cum in mouth, canon jjk verse.

Satoru Gojo blinked against the unfamiliar glow of a city skyline that stretched higher and sharper than anything he remembered from the present. One second he had been standing in the ruins of an old mission site the weight of Suguru’s departure still sitting like a stone in his chest and the next the world had folded in on itself infinity twisting until he spilled out here. Into the future. Into a quiet penthouse apartment high above Tokyo where the air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and strawberry mochi.

And there he was.

Himself.

Older. Taller in that way that came from carrying more years, more losses, more everything. Silver hair still impossibly soft but longer now brushing the collar of a simple black shirt. The blindfold was replaced by those same six eyes that glowed with the same limitless power yet held shadows the younger Satoru had never seen in his own reflection. Lines of exhaustion and wisdom etched faintly at the corners. A mouth that had smiled through hell and still somehow curved with that signature lazy arrogance.

The older Satoru leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed watching him with an expression that was equal parts amusement and something heavier. Something like pity wrapped in understanding.

“You look like you just got drop kicked by your own technique,” the older one said, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey, the kind of tone that came from surviving things the younger one could only imagine. “Welcome to tomorrow Satoru. Try not to freak out too hard. I already did that part for both of us.”

The words landed blunt and unfiltered. That was the first shock. The second came minutes later when the older Satoru poured them both glasses of something sweet and cold and started talking about Suguru. Not the Suguru who had walked away from jujutsu society, the one the younger Satoru still ached for in the quiet hours. No. This was the Suguru who had come back twisted by curses and rage. The Suguru who had died. By his hands. By these very hands that now gripped the glass so tightly it nearly cracked.

The younger Satoru felt the color drain from his face. His stomach twisted. “You… I… killed him?”

The older Satoru didn’t flinch. Didn’t soften it. “Yeah. Had to. He left us no choice. That’s the price we pay for being the strongest. Even when it carves out pieces of us we never get back.” He reached over then fingers brushing the younger one’s wrist a touch so familiar it hurt. “You’re already carrying the weight of him leaving. This is just the next layer. You’ll survive it. We always do.”

The bluntness stung but it was honest and it was them. That was Satoru after all. No filter. No mercy even for himself.

In the days that followed the strangeness settled into something almost comfortable. They trained together in the empty dojo downstairs, the older Satoru moving with a grace that spoke of battles the younger one hadn’t fought yet. Their techniques clashed and merged infinity against infinity until the air hummed with raw power and they ended up laughing breathless on the mats. The same laugh. The same bright sharp sound that echoed off the walls like it belonged to only one person stretched across two bodies.

They ate sweets at odd hours, raiding the older Satoru’s fridge stocked with every flavor of mochi and daifuku imaginable. They talked for hours sprawled across the oversized couch about cursed energy about the students they would one day guide about the quiet fears that came with being untouchable. The older Satoru listened in ways the younger one never had before offering advice wrapped in teasing smirks and gentle nudges. “You’re going to be fine kid. You’re me after all. Just with fewer scars and more sugar highs.”

Nights blurred into soft lamplight and shared silences. The younger Satoru found himself leaning into the comfort of it all. This version of himself knew every crack in his soul, every hidden doubt behind the bravado. He didn’t have to pretend. He could just exist. And the older Satoru let him. A hand on the shoulder that lingered. A shared glance across the room that held too long. Smiles that felt like coming home.

It slowly built that tension. Like infinity expanding one careful breath at a time. They were the same person. The same heartbeat. The same endless blue eyes reflecting back at each other. The comfort twisted into something warmer, something electric that hummed under their skin whenever they sat too close.

One night the city lights painted the apartment in soft gold and violet. They had been talking about nothing and everything, the older Satoru’s voice a low rumble as he described a battle the younger one would one day fight. Their knees brushed. Then their hands. The younger Satoru looked up and the older one was already watching him with an intensity that stole the air from the room.

The kiss happened like a tender unfurling. No rush. Just the inevitable pull of two halves of the same soul finally giving in. The younger Satoru leaned first or maybe they moved together lips meeting soft and warm and so achingly familiar. The taste of strawberry and mint, the slight scrape of stubble, the way the older Satoru’s mouth moved like it already knew exactly how to unravel him. It felt right. So right it made his chest ache. These were his own lips, his own breath, his own quiet sigh vibrating against his tongue.

The older Satoru cupped his cheek thumb stroking slow circles as the kiss deepened. Tongues brushed tentative at first then bolder. The younger Satoru’s hands fisted in the front of that black shirt pulling him closer, needing more. Heat pooled low in his belly, his cock twitching to life at the simple press of their bodies. Familiar body. Same height, same strength, same warmth radiating through clothes that suddenly felt too thick.

When they broke apart the older Satoru’s voice was rougher deeper like it had been worn down by years of shouting domain expansions and swallowing grief. “You’re so good, Satoru. So good for me.”

The praise hit like a spark on dry tinder. The younger Satoru’s dick throbbed hard against the confines of his pants, a needy pulse that made his breath hitch. They both wanted this. It was written in the way their eyes locked, in the flush creeping up both their necks in the matching hardness pressing against each other through fabric.

But the younger Satoru felt a surge of something deeper than lust. Eagerness. Devotion. He wanted to worship this older version of himself who had carried the weight of tomorrow on his shoulders. Who had lost Suguru and kept standing. Who still looked at him like he was worth saving.

So he slid down with measured slowness, with need. Dropping to his knees between the older Satoru’s spread thighs right there on the living room floor with the city glittering far below like distant stars. It was a physical thing looking up at himself. A psychological thing too. His own face staring back down at him, silver hair falling messily over one eye, that lazy confident smirk softened by want. His own hands familiar calluses and all resting lightly on his shoulders steadying him.

The older Satoru watched him with those endless eyes dark with hunger. One hand came down gentle, cupping the younger Satoru’s cheek thumb brushing over his lower lip encouraging without pushing. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” the younger one breathed, voice already rough. “Let me. Please.”

Fingers that felt like his own, worked open the older Satoru’s pants. Eagerly his fingers worked. The zipper sounded loud in the quiet room. He freed the cock beneath it thick and hard and flushed at the tip already glistening with pre-cum. It was his own after all. The same shape, the same veiny length, the same flushed pink head that made his mouth water at the sight. He stared for a long moment mesmerized by the intimacy of it.

Then he leaned in. As he looked up blue meeting vibrant blues. He parted his lips and took the head into his mouth. The taste exploded across his tongue, salty sweet warm skin and the faint musk that was unmistakably Satoru. His own cock jerked hard in his pants untouched but leaking now soaking the front of his underwear. He moaned around the length, the vibration pulling a low groan from the older Satoru above him.

“That’s it,” the older voice rumbled deeper, richer than his own… like it had been tempered by time. “Good boy. Just like that.”

The words lit him up from the inside. He took more sliding down the shaft tongue swirling eager and hungry. He savored every inch the weight on his tongue the way it throbbed against the roof of his mouth, the soft skin over steel hardness. He bobbed slow at first, learning the feel of himself from this angle then faster hollowing his cheeks sucking with wet obscene sounds that filled the apartment. His hands braced on strong thighs, fingers digging in as he pushed deeper until his nose brushed silver curls and his throat relaxed to take it all.

The older Satoru’s hand stayed gentle in his hair, not forcing, just guiding. Praise spilled from those familiar lips in that deeper voice. “Fuck—mhn satoru. Look at you h-aah—Taking me so well. So fucking perfect.”

He lost himself in it. The taste, the smell, the wet heat of his own mouth working over his own cock. His own dick ached neglected and dripping but he didn’t care. All that mattered was making this older version of himself feel good. Making him moan, making his eyes flutter half closed. He licked along the underside and swirled around the head, sucking hard on the upstroke. Saliva dripped down his chin but he didn’t wipe it away just kept going moaning louder wilder around the thick length.

It was beautiful. This mirror of pleasure, this self contained infinity of want. The older Satoru’s hips rocked gently meeting his rhythm, the hand in his hair tightening just enough to send sparks down his spine. Their eyes stayed locked whenever he could manage it blue on brilliant blue, a connection that went beyond bodies beyond time.

He savored every second drawing it out slow. Worshipfully licking stripes up the shaft kissing the tip before swallowing him down again. The older Satoru’s breaths came heavier now laced with curses and praises that made the younger one’s cock throb harder. “Good boy… my good boy… gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

He wanted it. Needed it. He doubled down sucking harder, hollowing his cheeks tongue working relentlessly. Moans vibrated up from his chest wild and unrestrained as he lost himself completely in the act. In the taste in the smell in the way his own body responded to pleasuring itself across years.

The older Satoru’s thighs tensed under his palms. A low broken groan escaped him, voice cracking with pleasure. “Satoru—nghh—fuuuck. I’m—”

And the younger one took it all. Every pulse, every drop. Swallowing around him with greedy devotion. Eyes never leaving that electric blue gaze above him. When it was over he pulled off unhurried, licking his lips clean savoring the last traces of his own taste. His own cock still strained untouched in his pants but his face was flushed with satisfaction and something deeper. Something like peace.

The older Satoru looked down at him with a soft wrecked smile, fingers carding gently through silver hair. “C’mere you.”

He pulled the younger Satoru up into his lap, their mouths meeting again in a slow messy kiss that tasted like both of them. The night stretched on around them the city lights twinkling like they approved of this impossible beautiful collision of past and future. Two versions of the same limitless soul tangled together finding comfort and pleasure and something that felt a lot like love in the quiet hours before tomorrow arrived.

© torusbabe 2026.

pure fluff that’s just way too sweet

the sizzling of scrambled eggs and sausage reverberated through the kitchen. your back was turned from your two girls sitting at the dining table. you could hear your eldest too busy making fart noises with her cheeks that had your your little one in her high chair cackling and shrieking with pure joy. smile tugging at your lips, your moomoo swayed against the cold tiles as you stepped towards the other pan, checking the heart shaped pancakes the girls would flip the table over if they couldn’t have.

your mornings were typically like this before taking the girls to school and daycare, then heading home to get ready for work yourself. but from the depths of your bedroom, you could hear kento rummaging and shuffling about. when you had first tried to wake him this morning, you were met with bloodshot eyes and heavy lids that were begging to hide them, instantly breaking your heart. before you could even think of the words to convince him to shut his eyes and rest, the stubborn blonde had already twisted his lips to ask:

“what time is it?”

and as soon as you told him a little after 7:30 in the morning, you knew your weak attempt of convincing him was long gone. his arm was already yanking the cover off of him like a cape.

“ken!” you called, flipping the golden cakes over, the sweet smell brushing your nose.

“daddy!” your eldest—‘your mini me,’ nanami claimed—called out right after you.

at the sound of his footsteps, yours eyes darted to the kitchen entrance, watching him stream in the kitchen with the same tired eyes you seen already. his hair that was almost always in a pristine swoop, was disheveled and casting a curtain over his forehead. the beige suit jacket he wore that emphasized every muscle in his arm was slung lazily over one shoulder, and his briefcase filled with mountains of spreadsheets and documents were all threatening to escape through the opening.

your eyes went back to the stove, flipping a pancake over once more. you felt his large hand around your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. you leaned into his familiar warmth as he planted a succession of soft, sleepy kisses to your temple and cheek.

“good morning, honey,” he murmured, his forehead resting against your bonnet. his hand trailed down your hip, giving your ass a light playful tap, discreet enough to pass right over the girls’ head, but enough to make you blush.

you grinned up at him, giving him a look with your eyebrow raised. you turned to the girls briefly before smiling back at him. “aren’t these the same touches from last night that made you oversleep in the first place?” you whispered.

“hmm, i think there were a little more touches than that,” he teased, hand tightening around your waist to tug you back against his chest. more bashful snickers left your lips before you lightly pushed him away.

“eww, are you and mommy kissing over there?” your eldest cooed, childish laughter escaping from her.

you both turned to her, smiling.

“your coffee is on the table,” you told him, eyes focusing on the eggs and sausage in the other pan. “and i already have the steak from last night wrapped in the foil for your lunch.”

he planted one more lingering kiss against the fabric of your bonnet before rushing around the table to his girls. he leaned over his eldest, murmuring “have a great day at school, sweetheart,” as he kissed her forehead. “your spelling test is today?”

even in the midst of him rushing and trudging through exhaustion, you couldn’t help but smile as he always made sure to remember every single detail for the girls.

“yup,” your eldest answered confidently.

“you’re going to ace it, baby,” he assured.

he rushed over to the other side to the youngest, grinning and giggling already seeing her daddy sneakily rush over to her. you heard him plant two huge kisses to her forehead and your arm that was so used to flipping and turning when making breakfast, instantly felt stiff.

there was an uncomfortable pause in the air. like a fresh lemon squeezed in your eyes, you closed it, just waiting for impact of the scene behind you.

big mistake babe, you thought to yourself.

“that’s not fair!” the eldest protested, folding her arms and grimacing at her daddy.

“what’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“she got two kisses, and i only got one!” she whined.

you shook your head, bottom lip tucking behind your teeth to prevent laughter.

“okay, you’re right,” nanami admitted in defeat, rushing over to his eldest to even the score, but the moment he pulled away from the high chair, the toddler took it personally. her lower lip trembled, and her previous giggles were now sniffles.

and as soon as he planted a kiss on the eldest’s forehead, you could hear it echo through the kitchen, before being overtaken by the youngest’s dramatic, sudden wailing.

the eggs, pancakes and scrambled eggs were long done, and the stove was turned off, but you refused to turn around just yet, opting to wait with a mere grin spread across your face.

“damn it,” kento muttered under his breath, peering down at the strict time on his watch that had long left him.

the eldest’s eyes grew wide, a triumphant grin replacing her pout. “ooo daddy! that’s a dollar in the swear jar.”

kento pinched the bridge of his nose, just absolutely defeated by a six-year-old. “yup, sweetie. just put it on my tab,” he sighed, digging a bill out of his wallet and dropping it on the table.

the cries of the youngest still echoed throughout the kitchen. he quickly stepped over and scooped her out of her high chair, holding her secure against his chest. he bounced her gently on his hip, murmuring a few low and soothing words to the toddler until her dramatic wails finally cut short, turning into quiet, satisfied sniffles.

her eyes, hazel like his, widened immediately as you set her plate with tiny cut up pancakes and sausages drizzled in syrup on the table. her body and little legs wiggled in excitement as kento carefully set her back down in her high chair. she clapped briefly before diving into her food, syrup all over her face already.

you watched a much-needed exhale leave his lips. his hooded eyes, completely full of softness, admiring his girls, peaceful and enjoying the well-prepared food set before them. the tension in his shoulders dropped and a genuine tug of a smile pulled at one side of his mouth.

when he turned to grab his briefcase and food, he almost knocked into you. you were already holding his things with an extra plate in front of him, and smiling up at him.

“i got it from here,” you teased. “also i got some extra breakfast for you here.”

a soft chuckle vibrated through his chest as he took the briefcase and food, setting them on the counter so his hands were completely free. he swiftly closed the distance between you two, his large hands anchoring securely around your waist, and your moomoo swaying against the tiles as he pulled you in closer near his chest.

“you’re gonna be late, ken,” you warned, knowing damn well you didn’t care, completely taken by his warmth and hands. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

he leaned down, eyes closing as he kissed you deeply. no tongue, or anything too slick, but just a firm and meaningful kiss that took your breath away as if he did. “thank you, honey. for giving me this—for giving me my world,” he said in between the kiss.

as he pulled away, his thumb reached up to gently wipe a smudge of syrup near your lip, making you blush under his touch. he kept his warm gaze on you as he quickly licked the sweetness off his finger before grabbing his things off the counter.

“have a good day at work, baby,” you waved, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as if that wasn’t your husband already.

“i love you,” he whispered, bringing his briefcase to his side, two plates in the other hand. his eyes averted to the strand that fell right at the bridge of his nose.

“bad hair day, i suppose.”

“very bad,” your eldest chimed in, pulling her head back and letting the pancake drop in her mouth.

your toddler, of course, giggled away at her sister’s antics.

a/n: when i wrote “i’ll take it from here,” i sighed so loud

smut ᨳଓ

personal favorite ★

⋆.˚ JUJUTSU KAISEN

kento nanami

𑣲⋆ aching ᨳଓ ★ , nanami never cries , why nanami is late ★, permission , priest nanami ᨳଓ , watching nanami get ready for work , widowed girl dad series | one | two

satoru gojo

𑣲⋆ sex talk at the diner ★, he lives for your eyes

suguru geto

𑣲⋆ four frames

⋆.˚ ATTACK ON TITAN

reiner braun

𑣲⋆ static ★ , giving reiner head ᨳଓ , double edge ᨳଓ ★

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Character: Reiner Braun

Rating: nsfw

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual description, implication of suicidal tendencies, mentions of war, mentions of death, implication of PTSD, angst, mentions of racial discrimination

Song: Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens

masterlist

Reiner and Y/N were connected by more than just their love for each other. Their experiences, their struggles, and their thirst for justice bound them together.

As Reiner thrust into her, his mind was anywhere but with her. Her soft moans in his ear and her nails clawing at his back did nothing to ground him in reality. Her legs were tightly wrapped around his hips, her face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to muffle the noise she was making.

Your Saturday nights are so calm and quiet now, just sitting in your couch with a good show, maybe a face mask and some chips. There's no man in the other side of the couch whining about how needy he is or complaining about how hot your apartment is. There's no man trying to bury his face in your neck while you hug him. It's just you and the nice show you were excited to see.

At least for a moment.

Around 11 p.m you hear two knocks in your door, sheepish and shy, like whoever was outside was scared of seeing you.

And he should be. Because when you open the door, you can't help to loudly groan.

"Reiner, for the love of god." You try to push the door back, but he stops it with just one hand.

"Baby, please," he whines softly. His hands are already close to grab your waist.

"Don't baby me, Reiner. It's the third time this week."

He's already making his way inside your apartment, closing the door behind his back and dropping to his knees right in front of you.

You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose as you stare down at the massive blond man currently on his knees in your living room.

the first time you kissed shoko ieiri, you were staying over at her dorm after a party. you were both a drunk, giggling mess, wiping make up off each other’s faces in her obscenely small bathroom. you’re not sure how or why it happened, it just did. because it felt right.

it always felt right with shoko. every kiss, every breath against your heated skin, every sweet word in your ear.

none of those things ever left the confines of your dorms, though. you didn’t have an explanation for this, why neither of you would reach for each other’s hand in public, why at every party, you’d have to make it look like a pure coincidence both of you had to use the restroom, or suddenly be sleepy at the same time to leave.

it didn’t matter as long as it felt good when you were with her, even if it meant you couldn’t kiss her in the sunshine, but only cloaked in the moonlight.

the day before you graduated college, she took you to the beach. it was cloudy and windy, the ocean freezing between your toes. you wrote your initials in the wet sand on the shore, like some lovesick teenager, and watched as a wave wiped away half of the wonky finger-drawn heart, along with your name.

you never saw her again after graduation. no texts, no phone calls, shoko never posted on her social media accounts— and she soon became a ghost, buried along that part of yourself only she had ever been allowed to see.

it took some time, but life eventually forced you to move on. and that’s when he came— stable, kind, the promise of stability, the white picket fence life you were expected to want. everything that came after that happened so fast you were suddenly walking down the aisle in a white gown.

with a bouquet of wildflowers clutched between your hands, you spotted violets, and halted in your steps. violets— her favorite flower.

all those years of missing her suddenly dawned on you, and you didn’t think twice about turning on your heel and leave. the horrified gasps of guests didn’t reach your ears, the yelling, the shame they attempted to chain you down with.

you’d had enough of that.

so you stopped the first taxi on the street, bunched your gown in the backseat and told him to drive off. you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

the sun was high in the sky, shining down on the crystalline waves, the sand warm underneath your feet, heels held in one hand, a corner of your voluminous skirt in the other. there weren’t many people, but you did not care for their stares, not when your eyes when locked on the figure sitting by the shore.

you didn’t say anything when you sat down beside shoko, and neither did she. her hair was longer, her eyes more tired, but your heart still leapt in your chest when she turned to look at you. the first real reaction it’d had in years.

she smiled at you, soft and understanding, but never surprised— like she’d been waiting, and she knew you would’ve come back some day. when your fingers traveled across the golden grains to meet hers, she didn’t pull back, resting her hand on top of yours instead.

and promised to never hide again.

┊┊a/n. you might be thinking "what the fuck is wrong with you!?" and the answer is that i don't know either. please don't throw tomatoes at me

reiner braun is needy for your pūssy ❤︎ mdni.

“just— stay here a minute.” his voice gruff, hands on his clothed cock that was currently vigorously poking out of his trousers and his cheeks flushed.

you watched him for a moment, his eyes shut as if his erection physically hurt him— which is probably did— but you couldn’t help but tease.

“you’re telling me a kiss on the lips got you all erect baby?” you smirked, cradling the back of his neck with your fingers, watching him groan and hips jolt upwards.

“g-god. please stop.” his voice trembled, moving away from your touch and pressing his head against the steering wheel, his palms growing sweaty and erection growing tighter.

your eyes widened at the sight, he seemed to be struggling for a man who is usually composed.

“reiner..” you whispered, drifting close towards him, your strong aroma lingering in the air and filling his senses.

his grip tightened around his crotch, feeling his cock pulsating against his palm. “we can do a quickie—“ “absolutely not.” he despised the idea of fucking you without taking his time to praise every inch of you.

“well clearly you're not handling it well, then once we step into the event you’re gonna be like— oh lets go home because i need you so bad.” you ridiculed him shamelessly, watching his eyes widen to yours.

“maybe you should stop kissing me before events then, knowing it turns me on.” he deflected with evident flush on his cheeks, it was amusing to you.

his frustration sent a sudden, sharp thrill of arousal straight to your core.

you scoffed, not even giving him a chance to protest as you kicked your heels off and shuffling to the driver's seat into his lap, straddling him.

“wh—what’re you doin—“ he muttered breathlessly, his body shivered entirely when you pressed your hands on his shoulder to stabilise yourself peel your skirt off as he watched, his mouth watering.

he couldn’t even think straight, his vision blurring into a haze as he unzipped his trousers in quiet grunts, revealing his hardened length and aggressively red tip that made your pussy throb.

“please..” he quietly gasped needily as his hand slightly stroked his length in desperation, resting his head onto your chest as you peeled off your damp underwear.

“jeez reiner, just a second.” you chuckled, trying to ignore how your heart raced in arousal. his hands gripped on your hips and guided your cunt to his length.

the simple brush of his tip between your folds made his fingers dig into your hips almost painfully. “ffuuuck..” he fluttered his eyes shut.

to some mysterious miracle, he didn’t cum just yet even though he was holding onto a thread, slowly you sunk into his cock, watching his lips part and panting in desperation.

“mmhpp— ride me.. fuck me please.” he pleaded, nuzzling his head onto your neck as you gently grinded onto his cock. your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your hips, pressing down on his cock. rocking back and forth in a rhythmic motion.

“oh reiner..” you moaned onto his ear, feeling his incessant whimpers onto your skin— you could’ve sworn you heard him huffed in pleasure.

your slick walls tightened around his throbbing cock, sending waves of pleasure all around his body. “fuck me..” he cried out, his hips tilting to meet yours.

his moans muffled against your warm skin, his palms growing sweaty against your back. “iloveyousomuch— i love you so fucking much.” he babbled, completely pussy drunk.

your fingers found the back of his neck, finding his damp hairs and caressing. “such a good boy f’me, rein.. this is what you needed? hm?”

“yesyes! i needed you s’ bad..” he whined, his fingers twitching against your clothed back.

rolling your pelvis against his, his cock twitched inside you, earning a moan from you. “you’re cumming rein’?” you whispered into his ear, bringing up the pace as he grunted.

“y—yes.. mmmp.. fuck!” he squeaked, hips jolting upwards as ropes of cum spilled in you, quiet gasps spilled out of your mouth, your own cunt squeezed around his cock.

hot cum poured down your legs. both of you stayed in the embrace, skin sticky. his cock warmed inside of you, semi hard and pumping his cum inside of you.

“did such a good job for me baby.” you whispered, caressing his damp hair, incoherent words muffled against your neck.

“sorry..” he blurted, making you pout, pecking his ears that were still sensitive, making him shivered.

“.. is okay baby, i loved seeing you needy for my pussy.” you cooed

his hips twitched at your words, “stop..” he gasped, making you chuckle at how tender he was to every touch and every word.

“we gotta go in—“ “no.” he gripped your hips tightly, not ready to feel the loss of your sticky walls hugging his cock.