goin a little manic thinking abt an erejean sandwich...specifically where eren's in the middle of said sandwich getting pussydrunk on you, effectively leaving you both absolutely stupid and needy, while also getting the attitude fucked out of him by jean
oh….plz my head broke a little bit
because eren doesn’t listen to you, not when you whine that its too much or when youre blubbering from being so sensitive.
he hums drunkenly in response, looking up at you all half lidded before sucking at your clit again. your head falls back against the pillow, practically melting into the sheets. you weakly extend your hand out to thread in his chocolate locks, only to brush past jean’s large fingers.
“sorry baby.” his voice is a low rumble, the clearest sound in the bedroom that pulls your focus back to earth.
jean punctuates the sentence with a roll of his hips, making eren moan into you as he slides up your sex with the force. the motion makes him lick a flat stripe with his tongue, your nerves on fire as you watch jean make a mess of eren. It makes you needy, clenching down on nothing as you wait for jean to notice what you want. so you reach out for him, brushing past his fingers in the mess of eren’s hair.
jean’s smiling down at you, lacing your fingers with his before tightening his grip in erens hair. “gimme a minute baby. need to finish putting him in his place”
199 notes
·
View notes
your reblogs to my posts never fail to make me laugh fr
ily 💜💜💜 i'm literally the most unfunny person irl so thank you for appreciating my written comedy~
2 notes
·
View notes
what'd she mean by that 🤔 missed the vtmb vampire lesbians so
pandora (girl with beanie) belongs to @napelf
27K notes
·
View notes
brennan reintroducing the bad kids with genuine titles they hold in canon like “archdevil” “captain of the owlbears” & “risen saint” but adding “holder of the tin flower” to gorgug’s intro because of how gorgug offering his tin flower to fabian, even after they fought, so effectively represents the type of person gorgug is (a kind one).
4K notes
·
View notes
you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.
among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.
they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.
(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)
“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.
you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.
he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.
“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”
2K notes
·
View notes