Tag: snk

Levi has always been better at reading. Writing his own words is strange; the pen is too heavy in his hand, ink dripping on paper resembling that black underground’s blood too much. He doesn’t have stories to write down, anyways.

But Erwin is a scar-lettered myth. He is Levi’s favourite book. His skin is softer than pages of rough paper, and he carries the old paragraphs of his wounds with neutral pride.

Some nights, Levi reads him like a blind man, with fingers tracing his darkness and tongue burying into the heat of his mouth, taking Erwin deep into his own tender warmth.
Levi reads him for centuries.

Erwin closes his eyes, and tells him all his stories.

nicolasdean:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY moami !! ❤ ❤ ❤

NICOLAS. Nic, ahhhh, I am screaming. This is the first time I see your Jeanmarcos, and they are so precious! Thank you so much!! 

I can imagine them actually walk up to my door and ring and hold up the sign while grinning so happily. You made them so cute, adorable, just perfect. Thank you. I feel all giddy that we got to meet and became friends, that you invested so much love and time to do this for me. 

Thank you, Nic – you are amazing ♥ ♥

Marco’s always had enough feelings and liquid happiness and warm, soft-red love for the both of them. 

Maybe that’s why Jean’s mouth is empty of any sound when the titan’s jaw closes around him, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t scream, or cry, or close his eyes. 

He’s lost his heart months ago. It’s only now that it does its last beat, and stills.

‘All I Ask of You.’

“You should be proud, Jeanbo. There are only a few men who stay a soprano even after voice break.” His mother smiles, warm fingers running through Jean’s hair as she hugs him tightly. Jean hates that he’s still comforted by this even at sixteen, that his tears and dark sobs stop coming after an hour or so, that he almost forgets about the teasing of his classmates about him singing the solo in the town’s small choir. They’ve always looked down on him. Now, it’s bullying.

A soprano. He had hoped for tenor, at least, but his voice break came and went without any change to the melodies echoing in his throat. Speaking, yes, that works, but he’s got no friends to talk to anyways, and as soon as the ‘gay’ rumours start, all is lost. It’s true, yet he wishes it wasn’t. He loves singing and he loves boys. None of it is right to the people that share a classroom with him. 

“It’ll be alright,” his mother hums, a melody of Jean’s favourite song on her lips. “Everything will be fine. You’ll find your place, somewhere, believe me.

Jean finishes school without knowing what a camping trip with friends feels like, but knowing very well what the words ‘fag’ and ‘disgusting’ feel inside his chest.

His mother cries and kisses him goodbye when he leaves for a town that’s bigger in mind and smaller in space than the cold village he grew up in. It will take time to figure out a major, but he’s got a flat and food and a warm bed, and – his university has a choir. 

On his first day of university, Jean enters the rehearsal room. There aren’t a lot of people to audition, and he’s up quicker than he’s hoped. The choir’s leader is a short man with dark hair and even blacker eyes that frown at every applicant equally. He points out that Jean’s choice of song is “a bit unconventional, isn’t that a duet?” And before Jean can say anything else, the choir leader waves another singer closer, and asks whether he’s familiar with the score. 

The answer is a yes. The other singer has a nightsky of freckles on his nose, and a smile that drags the floor away from underneath Jean’s feet. He quickly looks down when the man stands by his side. 

“I’m Marco,” he says, but the choir leader orders them to start already, and Jean’s world blurs into a caleidoscope of music and melodies as soon as the first word leaves Marco’s lips. 

No more talk of darkness
Forget these wide-eyed fears
I’m here, nothing can harm you
My words will warm and calm you

The warm shivers running through Jean’s blood shouldn’t feel so good. He closes his eyes and listens, floods away with the heavy drawl in Marco’s voice, some accent he doesn’t know and cannot care about. It’s like they’re singing together, for each other, voices and words melting together. His part comes up – and Jean breathes, natural, opens his mouth. 

Say you’ll love me every waking moment
Turn my head with talk of summer time
Say you need me with you now and always
Promise me that all you say is true
That’s all I ask of you

The room is quiet around them. Jean doesn’t notice the taste of salt on his lips until a hand comes down on his shoulder. Somewhere, in the back of his vision, he can see the rest of the choir staring as he opens his eyes. But right in front of him is Marco, fingers curling around Jean’s shaking shoulders, and the words 

Love me, that’s all I ask of you

on his lips. Marco smiles. He brings a hand to Jean’s face to wipe his tears, and says something that sounds like “welcome” through the daze of emotions inside Jean’s head. Jean blinks and smiles back, weak, overwhelmed. 

“I like your voice,” Marco says, suddenly. 

Jean’s first day at university is new and strange and nerve-wrecking. And still, he couldn’t have asked for more. 

The words have been scratching in his throat for some time now. Levi decides to say them out loud when he’s in Erwin’s office, on the couch, legs warm and comfortable in Erwin’s lap.

“You know, if you ever feel shitty about that,” he traces the knot of Erwin’s sleeve, tangles his fingers in the empty fabric. “Just… don’t. There’s no need to, got it? You’re not less or worse just because – ”

“I know, Levi.” There’s no chance for Levi to react when Erwin leans in and kisses his forehead. It shouldn’t feel so nice, and the peace settling over his thundering heart shouldn’t come from a wounded man’s stupid touch.

“Good.” Levi closes his eyes and nuzzles Erwin’s shoulder, breathes, listens to Erwin turn the pages of his book. The silence that stretches is a soft, lily-warm white.

Then, Erwin’s lips touch his hair. “You wouldn’t let me become less than I can be. I know that, Levi. Just like the sun rises tomorrow, I know.”

Levi’s heart beats like a storm once more when his fingers tangle in hair and fabric, and the air of his lungs is drowned out by a breathed kiss, whispered into his veins.

“Oh my God,” Jean says. “Oh my fucking – God.”

“Would you stop that, please, I’m trying to make a sandwich here.” Marco’s face is redder than the ketchup bottle he’s clutching tightly to his chest, as if he’s trying to defend himself with the poor condiment. 

“You are incredible,” Jean repeats and shakes his head, a wide grin spreading on his lips. Something gleams in his eyes, gentle mockery and amber adoration. “Unbelievable. My boyfriend just got a thousand times cuter. Didn’t think that was possible.” 

“I didn’t even do anything. Now, could I just – “ 

“Marco.” Jean takes the ketchup bottle, sets it on the counter and points at the sandwiches as if they’re convicted criminals. “Marco Bodt. You paint little ketchup smileys on your sandwiches. It doesn’t get any cuter than this.” 

“Uhh,” Marco says and tries to shove the second plate behind his back. “Yeah, you’re right, doesn’t get any, ah. Cuter. I guess.” 

Jean’s reflexes aren’t the fastest, but when it’s about food and slash or his boyfriend, he’s quicker than a cat with cream. He snatches the plate with a triumphant howl, gently peeling the upper toast off the sandwich and – blinks. “Did you – okay, I take everything back. You did just get cuter.” 
Marco buries his face in his hands. “I used to make sandwiches for my sisters, okay, this isn’t my fault. And I’m not cute.” 

But Jean just leans in to kiss his forehead, the fingertips that hide his face, grinning like the lovestruck idiot he is. “Baby, you draw ketchup smileys on my sandwich and circle them with mustard hearts. Fucking mustard hearts. I think I couldn’t love you any more than I do now. And you’re fucking cute, okay?” 

Marco rolls his eyes and accepts the kiss before finishing their sandwiches. 

for cherrymoyaya. Happy Birthday, dearest. ♥ Enjoy your day, and here is a little bit of Eruri for you!
nsfw. body worship. rimming. 

“You deserve gentleness, Levi.” 

His back arches in a pale crescent, and Levi bites down hard on his mouth to hold a loud moan inside. Erwin has pushed his legs open, rough fingers sliding over his body like he’s something precious, a treasure to be adored and worshipped. “I – God, why would you – “ A kiss onto his shoulder, the sharp tendon on the curve of his neck, a tongue dragging lazily over his sweat-stained skin. 

“Let me, please,” Erwin mumbles quietly into his neck, and his hips press against Levi’s body, stilling his nervous flailing in the sheets. Shit, it shouldn’t be like this – Erwin is supposed to fuck him hard and rough and violent, with a hand pulling his hair so perfectly, knocking the thin air out of Levi’s screaming lungs with every breath. 

But tonight, Erwin smiles like Levi told him about the sadness of war or a lost love, and there’s a trace of darkness clouding his eyes. He leans down to kiss Levi, breathless as always, but Levi tastes a softness in the warm licks of Erwin’s tongue that’s foreign, like musk and a summer’s night exhale. He pulls away and slides his legs onto Erwin’s shoulders, putting the best grin onto his face, eyes falling half-lidded. “Come on, come on – you just have to – “ 

“Not tonight, sweetest. Tonight, I’ll be adoring all of you, and I’m going to take my time until you know that you deserve all the gentleness in the world.” 

And when Erwin kisses the hollow of Levi’s throat, placing his mouth right above the pulsing life in Levi’s veins, it’s over. His body gives in, falls, the softness of Erwin’s touches and the fucking reverence echoing in his every cell, oh God, what is this man and why, why would he love a bird with broken wings like Levi?

Erwin’s gorgeous cock rests hard against Levi’s thigh, but when he reaches down to touch, to run his fingers over the silky skin and tease in a way he’s best at, Erwin slides away. His goddamn large hands feel like they burn on Levi’s skin as they trace along his sides, adoring the sharp joints of his ribs with soft, reverent touches. Erwin hums against his stomach when he kisses it, and Levi’s breath explodes in his lungs. He lets go, mouth falling open in a dark, growling moan, legs twitching higher up Erwin’s neck. “F-fuck, I – God, I can’t – “ 

Erwin is silent, the smile on his mouth dangerously warm. His mouth barely grazes Levi’s hard cock, lips only touching the wet, flaring red head with a flick of his tongue. Levi bucks up, cries, hands tangling in the mess of Erwin’s hair, and his thighs close around his lover’s head when Erwin breathes a shuddering burst of air against the slick heat of Levi’s hole where he’s fucked him open torturously slow on his fingers before. 

Erwin is slow when he eases Levi into falling, like a gentle pressure in the back of his head, making him submit with a simple glance from dark blue eyes. His body trembles, arches off the bed in a violent shiver, his ears tingling when his own scream echoes within the room’s small space. Erwin licks deep and warm into him, sucks and bites, oh he fucking bites the tiniest bit into the heat of Levi’s insides, teeth grazing and dragging, careful but hot, searing, “Oh God – ”, Erwin’s breath piercing through all his senses, taking him whole, overwhelming, and he falls, collapses. – 

When his body rocks forward in one fluid thrust, fire ripping through his veins, Erwin comes up again with sweat and lube smeared all over his grinning mouth. Levi watches him lick up his come, warm tongue dragging over his softening cock. He doesn’t know how to breathe anymore, what air tastes like, but all that Levi needs is Erwin, that man who now starts to kiss his neck all over again, who covers him in love and strong hands and never flinches, not even through Levi’s darkest and scariest and most horrifying moments. 

“Don’t tease me like that ever again,” Levi says, cheeks a crimson blush, when Erwin buries his nose into the crown of his hair. But Erwin doesn’t promise, he just smiles, and maybe that’s just what Levi always wished for, in the end. 

When the war drums called them to their last battle, Levi obeyed Erwin’s orders with a salty kiss to his chapped lips and whispered, just one more time before the dust of metal and fear swallowed him:

“Whenever you call me, I’ll come back to you. If you can still say my name, I’ll return.”

He’s never going to understand this strange mystery called love, but Levi thinks that he doesn’t have to. Not anymore. Not with Erwin’s mouth cupping his own so gently, tongue licking warm and wet against his bottom lip, biting and sucking until Levi’s body is tingling with fucking fire. He doesn’t have to understand, because Erwin does, and his smile when he whispers “Levi, my Levi” belongs to no one else but him.