#sorry for going Feral on the ask at literally 11:52am

[theragethatisdesire]

I’M ACTUALLY EARLY ENOUGH TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS YAY 😭😭

okay okay okay so i’m thinking 236 with plug!eren. i feel like he’d love to see you wearing his things like wearing his hoodie after six could easily start up a round two.

and then that last chapter got me thinking abt 116 w/ him too, i can’t wait to see a more possessive/protective side to him in the future possibly 👀 that “my girl” had me feeling things lol

and then 8 for jean. i have no specific reason, he’s just sexy and i’m impulsive so i wanna fuck him there, but he’s also tall as hell so it would be a struggle for him LMAO

this was just an excuse to talk to you abt plug!eren and jean, please don’t think i’m expecting drabble from you i just wanna ramble 😭😭🥹

DLFADLFDA hi bestie!!!! you're so full of ideas i literally love it so much i just.....you're so right. ESP about plug!eren he's so possessive on the low and he tries to hold himself back but he can't always help himself. like, he def has you dressed up all in his little hoodies and t-shirts and you're always covered in little bites and bruises and hickeys and going through dozens of bottles of concealer and he absolutely gets you a little necklace with an E charm on it like that's not canon but it's canon <333 i LOVE him!!!!

but your idea with jean....i....i simply couldn't resist....

NSFW below the cut >:)

The first thing you learned about Jean Kirschstein was that his ego knows no bounds. He isn't a selfish person, quite the opposite, actually, but as the starting pitcher for Paradis University's top-ranking baseball team, he has a constant supply of ego-fueling screams from the stands to keep his self-image bloated and well-fed.

Hundreds of girls screaming their name would make any man unreasonably confident, but Jean has the gall to blame his borderline-conceit on you of all people. You expect me not to have a big head when I have a girlfriend this gorgeous? C'mon babe, be serious.

Jean's favorite way to feed his ego, by extension, is by taking you anywhere he wants, any time. Considering that he leaves your legs shaking and your voice raspy, you're not one to complain, but this tendency of his does force you into some rather suspect situations.

Take tonight, for example. The Paradis Devils pulled a 5-3 victory off over the Marley Warriors, their conference rival, and it was, frankly, mostly thanks to Jean's signature curveball pitch. When he eyed you in the stands from the pitch, a toothpick sticking out from his smirk and a dark glint to his smile that only you knew how to interpret, the deafening cheers in the stadium faded to a low hum in comparison to the rush of blood to your face.

"Jean, we're going to get caught-"

"Sh," Jean hushes you, shoving you none-too-gently against the door of his flashy pickup truck, "who cares?"

"Me," you whine pitifully into his mouth, already limp and malleable in his strong hands.

"Not going to help me celebrate my victory? You know you're the reason we won," Jean mouths his way down your neck, pulling a whimper from you, "do it all for you, baby."

"But there's people around Jean, the game just let out."

"Hop in, then," Jean smacks your ass playfully, "windows are tinted, remember?"

As if you don't know the windows are tinted, not after Jean's last game, the baseball banquet, your Honor's Society awards dinner...you acquiesce him with a roll of your eyes, clambering up into the backseat.

Jean follows you, hazel eyes hooded and hungry and hat backwards on his head, never letting his hands drift from you for long. He wrestles his jersey off before climbing in, tossing it carelessly into the passenger seat and laying his long body over yours. He reaches back and fumbles for the door handle, finally finding purchase and swinging it closed, only to accidentally thwack his leg, shooting his body forward and consequently knocking your head into the opposite door.

"Fuck."

"Ow!"

"Car sex always looks so much easier in the movies," Jean winces, shaking his head.

"Then why can't we just wait until we get home? Your apartment's only five minutes away," you giggle, only half-meaning your words when Jean's muscled torso is pressing into your heated skin.

Jean doesn't answer at first, instead dipping his hand down to rub insistently over your clothed, pulsing cunt. He chuckles darkly at your responding moan, the way your hips buck up desperately into his hand, betraying your words.

"If you think you're getting out of this car without my cum dripping down your legs, you've lost your goddamn mind."