The New Thing All Over My Dash Despite Me Not Interacting With It At All Is Now Just Pics Of Naked Women.

feeling like writing smt silly ab a spaceship powered by dance with a crew.... and i'll involve disco and cowboys and laser guns somehow.....

shoutout to C418 (one of minecraft’s composers) for just fucking snapping recently on twitter

Jjk is so good i wish it was good

I'm once again thinking about Kento Nanami..

BOOP ME BABY ONE MORE TIME 🐱

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader

Rating: explicit

Count: 2.8k

Tags: modern day, reunions, alcohol, reader is a couple years older than rei, reader is a galliard but no details, flirting, smut, cunnilingus, one use of “she”, pining

A/N: wow, wil actually writing something? is the world ending? no but really, what better way to kick things off than with my beautiful baby boy? this isn’t my best, but it did get some juices flowing. enjoy!

You’re in one of the tall stools at the bar, facing forward while you sip from your rocks glass. He doesn’t know if he would recognize you from the back, but having seen your face already, he knows. There’s no mistaking it.

Tight jeans, a scoop neck, and a dark blazer, you are the picture of business casual—fresh off work like so many others, seeking solace in the form of a solitary drink. You don’t look particularly approachable, eyes locked on your phone, and yet some fucking guy has taken the seat next to you and is trying (and failing) to get your attention. Dude’s been trying to chat you up for a solid ten minutes, and so far all you’ve offered has been a tight-lipped smile. More of a grimace, honestly.

Reiner doesn’t think he needs to save you, assumes you can still handle yourself like you used to.

But god, he loves the idea of swooping in and relieving you of any more useless chit chat.

Downing the rest of his drink, Reiner stands from the table he’s been sitting at for the past hour. He weaves through bodies and chairs, growing shorter of breath with every second until he slips into the space next to you and clears his throat.

“This guy bothering you?” he asks with a grin, and when you turn to look at him your expression of annoyance immediately turns to surprise and then genuine glee.

“Holy shit, Reiner?” you practically shout, and he is a little too pleased with the way you immediately lean in for a hug.

The dude on your other side swears under his breath and stalks away, all according to plan.

“Hey, been a while,” Reiner responds, giving you a firm squeeze before letting go.

“Yeah, like, a decade, Jesus. Look at you!”

And you are—looking at him, that is. Much different from how you did when you were kids. When he was just another little brother to you, just Pok and Marcel’s friend crushing on their big sister.

You hold your hands out and gesture at him. “You’re so… large!”

Reiner chuckles and reminds you, “I always have been.”

“Yeah, but like, fuck.”

He’s not quite as broad as he was in high school, lost some muscle without his football regiment, but he grew a couple inches taller his freshman year of college. He doesn’t know how that happened. His hair is only a little longer than he used to wear it, but he does have facial hair that you’re probably not used to seeing on him.

And, you—at almost 30 you look about the same as you did when you were 20. Your face isn’t as round but definitely still gets you carded at bars. Hair is shorter, thighs a little thicker, hinting at wider hips. You’re a woman, he thinks. You always were to him, but now he’s seeing you as a real adult, just like you’re seeing him.

“I thought you had some fancy job in Stohess. What’re you doing here?”

“Business, mostly,” you sigh dramatically. “There’s a branch of the company downtown that they asked me to check in on, so I agreed as long as I could take some vacation days to visit the fam-bam,” a pause and then a little grin, “and apparently little Rei-bear too.”

Reiner outwardly cringes at the nickname you used to tease him with all the time. It was so stupid but not as stupid as the fact that it never failed to make him blush.

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the little upturn of his lips. “Not exactly little but whatever.”

“You’ll always be little to me. Rambunctious thirteen-year-old trying to act cool by chugging energy drinks—breaking your fucking arm skateboarding,” you laugh.

“Drinking too much with Marcel sophomore year and having to call you to pick us up,” he adds with a shake of his head.

Embarrassed as he is at the memories, he still throws a leg over the stool next to you, finally settling in since it seems you are, in fact, happy to see him.

As the two of you fall into an easy conversation, Reiner orders another drink for himself, telling the bartender, “and another of whatever she’s drinking.”

“I promised myself I’d only have one,” you complain.

“You’ve already had at least two.” Not because you’re acting like it, just because he saw you.

“And, how would you know that?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, “don’t tell me you’ve been watching me from afar.”

Whoops.

Reiner’s mouth opens as if he has something lined up, but he doesn’t. He can’t exactly explain it away.

Thankfully, you’re more amused than anything else. “And, you waited that long to rescue me from that doucher?” You put a hand over your chest in an exaggerated way. “How dare?”

Letting out a relieved sigh, Reiner forces what he hopes is a casual smile and shrugs. “Figured you could handle yourself. Never had a problem putting Zeke in his place back in the day, so—”

“Yeah, until I gave up on it,” you interrupt, making a face of disgust.

“What do you mean?”

Zeke Jaeger was the older brother of another one of Reiner’s friends, Eren. You hung out with your little posse while he hung out with his, and more often than not it resulted in some sort of overlap, meaning Reiner got to watch Zeke come onto you over and over again then get rejected over and over again. It was well-deserved. Zeke always gave off a sort of pretentious yet scummy vibe.

“Eventually I just got tired,” you say with a wave of your hand. “Well, tired and reckless, I should say.”

Reiner has to fight to not let his emotions show on his face. What emotions those are, he isn’t quite sure. He just knows that his instinct is to scowl.

“Reckless how?”

You tilt your head to the side as you look at him, humor dancing in your eyes. “I don’t know if I should poison your virgin brain with such topics.”

Reiner scoffs. He wants to defend himself, tell you he is definitely not a virgin and hasn’t been for a long time now—before he even went to college, thank you very much—but the more he denies, the less mature he’ll look, and he is trying very, very hard to be the mature man he has grown into.

“I mean, I don’t really care. Can’t blame you if you don’t wanna talk about your dirty little tryst.”

“Really just nothing to talk about,” you confess, “a casual thing—fun, I guess, but nothing super, uh, impressive.”

God, it’s so hard not to ask. What wasn’t impressive—his personality or his dick? Reiner wants to know so that he can make up for it (or fantasize about making up for it the way he used to).

“You’re not good at hiding your curiosity, Rei-bear,” you giggle.

“What can I say?” he tries, “guess I’m just a curious guy.”

“Are you now?” You take a sip of your drink while keeping your eyes on him. “What other kinda things are you curious about?”

No reason to answer out loud. All Reiner does is chuckle and go for his own drink. You’re both adults, no rings on your fingers, catching up for the first time in a decade. He’s sure you can guess his curiosities, and he could just be flattering himself, but there might be a little curiosity on your part too.

As the two of you catch up Reiner can feel the atmosphere shift between you both, something heavy and humid.

“You really did grow up nicely,” you say a little quieter than you have been but still clear enough for him to hear.

Reiner can’t help the blush that creeps up his neck just like he can’t help the way his mouth pulls up in a smirk.

“Yeah?”

You smile around the straw between your teeth which is more than enough to build his confidence.

“You did too,” he pauses, then thinks what the hell and adds, “but I always had a thing for you.”

An amused smile plays at your lips. “I know.”

“What do you mean ‘you know’?”

“I mean, big sisters always know,” you reach out and playfully pinch his arm, “also, you weren’t very subtle.”

Reiner rolls his eyes, but he can’t find it in himself to be all that embarrassed. He was a teenager, horny 24/7. What was he supposed to do?

“It’s okay. It was cute.”

It’s a good thing you’re telling him that now and not when he was 15. Reiner can only imagine what that word would have done to his self-esteem back then.

“Still think I’m cute now?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Well,” you turn on your stool to face him fully, empty glass now pushed away from you, “I don’t think I’d use that particular descriptor now.”

It’s difficult not to preen under your appreciative gaze. Reiner isn’t sure if you’re tipsy or just bold, but you stare at him in a way you never have before, eyelids low, pink tongue darting out to lick your lips.

This… this is lust. This is how he looked at you when he was younger, how he’s looking at you now like nothing’s changed. Except this time it isn’t one sided. This time you look as bothered as he feels.

Reiner grew out of his cockiness years ago, has been told he’s sweet by recent partners—one of the good ones. Gentle.

He doesn’t think he can be gentle now, though. Not with you widening your thighs where you sit, as if beckoning him to stand between them.

Not after waiting for so long.

“My apartment’s about twenty minutes away,” he offers, moving the small distance it takes to crowd into your space.

“My hotel’s even closer.”

Heat races down Reiner’s spine. That’s it, then. It’s confirmed. You do want him. He isn’t just imagining things.

“Right around the corner, actually.” You run a hand down his chest, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt.

Without further conversation, you both rush to pay out, leaving a few bills on the counter before walking out. Your fingers lace between Reiner’s, a sensation he had only ever dreamed of feeling.

Your room is on the second floor, and once locked safely inside, you drop your purse on the floor and reach for him, pulling until he’s pressing you into the door.

“My Rei-bear, all grown up,” you tease, hands at the back of his neck.

He grips your hips hard enough to make your mouth open, lowering his voice when he leans in to ghost over your lips.

“M’gonna make sure you never call me that again after tonight,” he rumbles.

“Yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?”

His younger self usually fantasized about taking his time with you, being the best you’ve ever had, and yada yada, and while Reiner still wants to make you quake, he simply lacks the capacity to move slowly. He’s pent up with a side of giddy, but mostly he’s just desperate—desperate for your mouth as it attaches to his, for your tongue as he strokes over it with his own, for the way you scratch down his scalp.

Reiner tries and fails to suppress a shiver, heart ricocheting in his chest and making his whole body vibrate against yours. You taste like cherries and alcohol, and he can’t get enough. All he wants to do is drink you down, wants your aftertaste stuck in the back of his throat for the rest of his life.

You grind into him, press against his painfully hard erection and smile into the heated kiss. Your hand travels downward to palm him through his pants, but Reiner catches your wrist and shakes his head.

“I’ve waited years for this, and you think you’re the one calling the shots?” He grins at the way your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp pulled from you when Reiner catches you off guard and pulls you away from the door and all but spins you to the bed.

You’re both quick to strip down to your underwear, though Reiner immediately unclasps your bra and gets rid of it as well. You arch your back in invitation, and Reiner moves at the speed of fucking light to bury his face in your tits, nipping and sucking, running his tongue over your peaking nipples—fit in his mouth so nice, soft fat spilling between his fingers as he paws and gropes.

“Having fun?” you giggle, moaning softly when he tugs one of the buds between his teeth. Reiner doesn’t answer, just peers up at you as he plays, pushing his hips into the bedding as he does.

With other goals on his mind, he begins scooting down your body, leaving as many marks as he can until he kneels between your legs and starts sliding your panties down. Puffy pussy exposed, Reiner feels his eyes dilate and his mouth begin to water.

“Fucking Christ…” he breathes, gliding shaky fingers over your dampened folds as if in awe. He’s wanted this for so long, and now that he has you laid bare before him, Reiner feels out of control. Most of his organized fantasies left his mind some time ago, but now he’s losing his sanity altogether. Any coherent thought. Gone. All he wants to do is—

You make the most gorgeous noise when he pushes his tongue inside of you, trapping your thighs against his biceps to keep you from squirming.

“Oh—oh my god,” you whimper, fingers curling in his hair as your hips roll.

Reiner drools all over you, adding to your juices only to slurp it all up. He’s shameless as he eats you out, smacking and lapping and groaning all while trying to memorize the way you taste and how soft you are clamping down on his tongue and the middle finger he slips inside of you.

He moves to suckle on your clit, circling it and growing even more ravenous when you start to tremble.

“Rei—Rei, fuuuck…”

“Good?” he rasps, though judging by the strands of arousal that are dripping from you, he already knows your answer.

“Yes, god yes, don’t stop.”

He crooks his finger, stroking your insides until he finds that extra swollen spot and presses against it, his cock twitching when you begin to leak even more.

“God, your fucking pussy is so perfect,” he groans, swiping his tongue up and down your slit to swallow everything you offer him.

And, you offer a lot, soaking his mouth and chin, creaming around his finger, and Jesus he wants to be inside of you, wants to bury himself in you and make you scream his name.

But before that he wants you to cum on his tongue. He wants you to fall apart just like this, with your toes curled and your body bucking, and your cunt so messy for him.

“O—oh my god.” He glances up in time to see your eyes grow wide and your jaw drop, almost like you’re surprised. “Oh my god, Rei, I’m gonna—fuck, don’t stop, please…”

He keeps hitting that spongy spot, keeps flicking your clit back and forth, gripping you tighter as your back arches off the bed. Your orgasm crests, and Reiner quickly seals his lips over your clit, pulling wave after wave out of you and tasting squirt on his tongue.

The only thing that keeps him from coming in his boxers is the promise of fucking you, but he still feels pre drip from his cockhead as his abs flex with restraint.

When your body uncurls in blissful relaxation, Reiner stops sucking, gives you a few soft licks as you pet his hair.

“Holy shit. Where did you learn to do that?” You huff, “thought I was gonna black out there for a second.”

Reiner chuckles and places a kiss on your inner thigh.

“Maybe you will by the end of the night,” he smirks, wiping his face with his own discarded shirt, “since I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

You look at him with foggy eyes, a fuck drunk smile on your face as you sit up and grab him by the shoulders to pull him down on top of you. Reiner catches himself, hands planted on either side of your head as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Promise?”

Instead of responding out loud, Reiner dips low for a kiss, deep and slow. You’re stupid if you think making you come once will be enough to satiate him after all this time. He wants to leave his mark, mold you to himself, make you ache for him like he still aches for you.

He needs to make you his the way he’s always wanted you to be, and now that he’s no longer a lovestruck boy, Reiner thinks he just might have a chance.

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“couldn’t sleep?”

nanami kento (your husband of two months, a man who is feared as a yakuza boss throughout japan) stands behind you — shirtless, silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips, left hand rubbing the sleep out of his eye.

“no,” you respond, some embarrassment coursing through your body as you fiddle with your wedding ring. “figured i could bake something.”

he glances at the clock. gently smiles, almost breathlessly chuckles. “at four in the morning?”

your eyes widen a little. “i can wait until later.”

“no, it’s alright,” he sits on a barstool and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “i can keep you company, if you’d like.”

his eyes are filled with drowse, eye bags a little more prominent due to restless nights taking care of business.

“are you sure? you look pretty tired, kento.”

he smiles — the way his name rolls off your tongue is like a dewdrop rolling off a soft pink rose petal.

“yes. your sister mentioned you aren’t fond of being alone.”

“oh.” you stop fiddling with your wedding ring, body hot at the thought of your husband being considerate — god, are you that deprived of love? attention? comfort?

“and i could help you, if you’d like.”

you smile, excited at the thought. “of course.”

your early morning is filled with conversation and flour, eggs, sugar; touches that light you on fire — your husband’s hands on your hips as he moves behind you, his thumb cleaning off the flour on your cheek.

in a few hours, you seem to grow closer to each other — you find comfort in the way he talks to you, in those touches he gifts, in the smiles that seem to be solely reserved for you (he is always stoic when you are out of the house, after all).

and you can’t help but think that, after all, there is hope in your marriage. that you’ll find salvation in your husband.