#...i think that's going to be a touchy subject erik | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tokoyamisstuff · 4 years ago

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Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai, @justsomerandompersonintheworld

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold:

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself, as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #God of Mischief #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction

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theplanetm4rz · 4 years ago

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tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

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knives-out21 · 5 years ago

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Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 15

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Repressed Homosexuality, Angst, Fighting,

Notes: Long Part ahead, lads. Not the longest, though. As far as I’m concerned.

Erik, Charles, and Karmel found themselves in the library later that night. Erik and Charles were playing chess, just like they had on the Lincoln Memorial steps.

Karmel was distracted with something else, just like at the Memorial. He was slowly scanning the books on the walls, title by title. If it was able to distract himself by his heavy physical attraction to Erik sitting formally in that black turtleneck, then so be it.

"Cuba" Charles piped up."Russia, America. It makes no difference. Shaw has declared war on mankind, on all of us" he recalled, as Erik put away his glass."He has to be stopped."

"Do you have any Dickens?" Karmel called, holding a bottle of gin in his hand.

Erik and Charles looked over at him.

"Yea, why? You like Dickens?" He asked.

"No. I hate Dickens."

Erik held back a chuckle.

"The guy has purple prose like it's a fucking syndrome, I hate that shit. If I had to choose one Charles in the entire world, I wouldn't choose him, Charlie Chaplin" Karmel groaned. He stood by what he said; if he had to choose one Charles in the entire world, he wouldn't choose Dickens. Karmel would jump to the end of the alphabet, and choose Xavier. Every time, without fail, without a single doubt. He was sure of it.

After a beat of silence, Charles looked back to Erik, who raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him."

Karmel turned to look over his shoulder, at Erik. Bold, straight-forward, and daring...he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Silence followed again, as Erik leaned in to make his move on the chess board."Do you have it in you to allow that?" He asked, leaning back in his seat. Erik's eyebrows were raised in a more expecting tone, waiting for Charles' answer.

Karmel's gaze switched from Erik to Charles, eager to watch for a response. He’d have allowed Erik to kill Shaw, that’s for sure.

Charles forced a smile, leaning to make his move.

"You've known all along why I was here, Charles. And possibly, so does Karmel. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow, mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred."

Karmel nodded to himself, snatching The Picture Of Dorian Gray off the shelf the second he saw it."You have Oscar Wilde? Rad, dude" he called, momentarily putting down his bottle so that he could flip through the pages; and also ignore how Erik was actually making some very valid points, in his mind. That fear-turned-hatred Erik expressed the humans having towards mutants, it rang one too many bells to Karmel. It also reminded him of how his relationship between himself and his attraction to men- now Erik- has went in the past.

"Not if we stop a war" Charles commented, looking up from to board, to Erik."Not if we can prevent Shaw, not if we risk our lives doing so."

"Would they do the same for us?" Karmel asked, raising his eyebrows out of sass."'Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world's original sin. If the cave-man had known how to laugh, History would have been different.'" He quoted off of a random page from the short novel, finding it fitting.

"We have it in us to be the better men" Charles shot back.

"I know I say 'beware it goeth before the fall' a lot, Charles, but we already are" Karmel snarled, not going to look at Charles or Erik.

Erik nodded in agreement."We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself-" Charles cut him off.

"No, no!" Charles shook his head.

Erik huffed."Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?" He asked, looking at Charles in disbelief, who only avoided eye contact.

Karmel took a swig of his bottle of gin, the book in his other hand.

"Or is it arrogance?" He suggested.

Karmel puckered his lips, eyebrows slowly raising.

"I'm sorry?" Charles raised his eyebrows, processing what Erik just asked him.

"After tomorrow, they're gonna turn on us” Erik declared.

"But you're blind to it" Karmel snaked in.

"Because you believe they're all like Moira."

"And you believe they're all like Shaw. Just like how Karmel believes they're all like his family members who were unwilling to take him in, or the people who caused his parents' downfall" Charles spoke softly.

Karmel noticeably tensed, feeling Erik's eyes on him as he chugged down half the bottle of gin. Once he actually ended up finishing the bottle, he put it on the table, and closed the novel. Karmel slid the book back into its place on the shelf, and stormed out of the library silently.

"Listen to me very carefully, my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace" Charles bartered. Saying this, he also believed killing anybody would not bring Karmel peace, either.

Erik shifted in his seat, his next words completely reflecting how both Karmel and him felt."Peace was never an option."

***

Karmel left the library and headed straight to his room, and was now sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. His low professional maturity caused him to escape any situation his parents' deaths were brought up in. It's not that he was still in denial about it, he watched them die, so he didn't really have a choice. It's just that it's enough of a touchy, traumatic subject that he doesn't like talking about it, or being around if it's being talked about. Karmel also wasn't fond of being reminded that his uncle was the only family member of his who was willing to take care of him; it made him think about his self-worth, and other things he also wasn't a fan of thinking about, he'd get in over his head about it. He was pulled out when he heard a knock at his door, followed by the sound of it creaking open.

"Karmel."

Karmel turned and saw Erik step in, knuckles pressed against the door."Erik" he returned, in a more cold manner than he'd have ever liked to address Erik in."You tell everyone to get a good nights sleep and yet here you are, not even in your own room" Karmel poked fun at what Erik instructed everyone to do earlier. Sadly, it didn't distract him from noticing how narrow Erik's hips were, and how much Karmel wanted to hold them in his hands.

Erik's lips formed a line in response.

"Only joking, man. What's up?" Karmel asked.

Erik stepped into Karmel's bedroom, shutting the door behind him."You left the library quite quickly. I felt the need to come check on you- don't take it the wrong way" he answered, hands in the pockets of his pants.

Karmel's gaze went gentle, loving."Aww, you care about me?"

"Consider it payback for making me stay" Erik shrugged.

"Hey, I didn't make you fucking stay. I said I could make you stay, but I didn't. I let it be known that it was all your choice" Karmel corrected, pointing over at him. He pulled his legs back, sitting in a position where they were crossed.

"Right, my mistake" Erik nodded, walking over."You left quite swiftly when Charles brought up--" he stopped himself when he saw Karmel tense up in the same way he did in the library, earlier."...The event. I'm assuming it's still a pretty touchy subject for you? As is the family thing?"

Karmel cracked his neck, tilting it from side to side. He held a hand up to his head, as if showing off how tall something is.”Look at me, dude. Psychological damage up to here” Karmel joked.

No response.

Karmel sighed.”A lot of things that have happened to me are touchy subjects, thanks for asking" he gruffly replied."I don't...want them to be as touchy as they are, it makes me seem immature, I bet. But I just...I dunno, I'm less open to them being brought up than you are about your dirty laundry being brought up" Karmel explained, tapping his pillow with his pointer finger.

The corner of Erik's lip twitched up."It's not immature" he disagreed, Karmel looking up at him."Different people process past problems in different ways, it varies from person to person. This is your way of dealing with and processing them," Erik sat on the bed, in front of Karmel."It's not immature, Karmel. It's you. And as far as I'm concerned, you're not immature, far from it."

Karmel shifted where he sat, fixing his loose tie."Beware, it-"

"It goeth before the fall" Erik finished, smiling at the familiarity. He used a finger to tilt Karmel's head up by his chin."You're cunning, you're driven, you don't hesitate. You do what it takes, you're restless. I noted that you're physically courageous, which would prove you to be a dogged adversary. You're anything but immature, Karmel. If anything, this team's lucky to have you" Erik listed, adjusting the neck of his turtleneck.

Karmel felt himself beginning to blush, and looked away to try and hide it."Y'really think so?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Karmel rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging."Never knew you felt that way."

Erik shifted closer to Karmel.

Karmel gulped, standing up and starting to softly pace around his room."So...that conversation in the library sure was something, huh?" He asked, changing the subject as he felt Erik's eyes on him.

Erik hummed nonchalantly."I suppose. You didn't seem to be much of a fan of his views."

Karmel shrugged."I used to fall asleep dreaming of co-existing with humans. Key-word 'dreaming', Erik. That said, to actually be able to co-exist with humans would be a dream come true" he recalled.

Erik stood up."But- But you were leaning toward my side more" he pointed out.

Karmel spun around to face him, pulling his suspenders off of his shoulders."Is a man not allowed to be indecisive?"

"When it comes to how we live, no."

Karmel groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose."I'm not siding with Charles, if that's what you're thinking. You had points, I won't lie to you. Many points that I agreed on, from personal experience. But...Charles' way may be safer."

"Safer?" Erik squinted."That safety will most likely be temporary. Do you remember anything of what you said when you made me consider staying?"

"It's safety nonetheless. Safety for you, Charles, the team, and for me" Karmel listed."Your guys' safety is what I want. Co-existing with the the human race...that's something I've wanted for so long."

"Wanted, but only dreamed of" Erik raised his voice."Wanted, but I know that a majority of your mind knows you won't get that ability, to co-exist with the human race. Not after everything they’ve done."

Karmel took a step toward Erik, huffing."Not with that attitude. Maybe, just maybe we- we can get the humans to accept us, Erik! Raging against them, it won't sort him out. It-" Erik cut him off.

"Neither will co-existing!" Erik advanced toward Karmel."Co-existing and acceptance won't do anything, how has Charles blinded you so quickly?"

"He hasn't!" Karmel exclaimed."I'd love to take my revenge just as much as you, but what IF we have a chance at being one with the humans? Blend in as we have this whole time, minus the fear. I know it might not do much, but if we play our cards right like Char-"

"Why are you following Charles if you don't fully agree with what he says?" Erik yelled, becoming even closer to Karmel.”You’re not saying what you truly want, Karmel, listen to yourself.”

"For fuck's sake, I'm not!" Karmel growled."I'm verbally mapping out the plan that will keep my friends, like you, safe" he ran a hand through his hair."You think I DON'T want to bitch-smack Shaw silly? Seriously? With how much he's fucking hurt you?" Karmel questioned, limiting the space between Erik and himself.

"Then why aren't you agreeing with me?" Erik argued, up in Karmel's face.

"When did I say I wasn't agreeing with you? I must've skipped over that part, please remind me" Karmel sassed, reaching his hands up but curling his fingers into fists, knowing damn well he wouldn't lay a land on Erik like that."I'm used to being blamed for my own failures. But this time, I'm anxious because my mistakes would reflect on Charles, or even you! I've been wondering if you and Charles secretly wanted me to quit."

Erik looked at Karmel like he was crazy."Of course we don't-"

"I know!"

Erik looked taken aback, noticing how Karmel was fighting back tears; he was truly hung up on the idea of letting Erik down."I'm not good with people crying in front of me. I don't know what I should do...should I just kiss you or something?" The words were out of his mouth before he could even think them over.

"No! Just have more faith than I'll do that we'll be okay after tomorrow! You don't have to say anything, just stand by me!" Karmel exclaimed, loosening his tie even further. He exhaled sharply, lips so close to Erik's own that it was practically unbearable. The two got their heated argument interrupted from Karmel hearing a knock at his door.

"Hey, I don't know what you're yelling about in there, CC, but keep it down. I'm tryna sleep!" Alex called, followed by the sound of his footsteps pacing away.

Karmel and Erik were pulled back into reality from their fight, the two mutants slowly realizing how close they are; they were quite literally panting on each other.

Karmel wasn't sure if his heart was pounding from how worked-up he got, from how physically close he was to Erik, or Erik's hot breath on him, or a mix of two or all three, but either way it was speeding. He gulped thickly, angry eyes on Erik's lips as he pulled himself together and pulled away, not trying to think about using his hands to grab Erik by his stupid black turtleneck and yanking him in to have him up against Karmel, maybe even kiss if they were gonna be that close together for a reason.

Erik put a hand on his hip, letting out a long sigh."I'm so-"

"I'm sorry."

Erik and Karmel locked eyes, secretly not bearing to stay mad at each other for too long. They cracked awkward, quick smiles, glancing around Karmel's bedroom.

"I should go" Erik pointed his thumb at the door.

"Yea, yea, I- I guess. Sleep well?" Karmel shrugged.

Erik nodded silently, making his way back to the door.

"Erik, you're like lightning in a bottle" Karmel blurted out the compliment, hoping it didn't sound like he was forcing it out to waver away the tension in the air.

Erik didn't answer, to focused on hiding his smile from Karmel. And thus, he made his leave.

Once Karmel could no longer hear Erik's footsteps, he groaned through grit teeth. He grabbed a pillow, throwing it across the room."I could've kissed him" Karmel thought, the idea ringing continuously in his head like an alarm."I could've kissed him, I could've kissed him. He was so close, and didn't pull away until I fucking did. I could've kissed him, I could've kissed him, I could've kissed him."

From down the hall, Charles awoke with a massive migraine."Fucking-" he hissed, gripping the side of his head. Charles first heard Karmel's angry thoughts seep into his head, unintentionally."For god's sake, what is- Karmel- oh- oh, for fucks sake-" he stammered, eyes squeezed shut. Charles lay hunched over his bed, migraine searing when he heard a knock at his door.

"Charles? Are you okay?" It was Raven.

Charles listened in on Karmel's internal fight with himself, and groaned softly."Peachy, Raven, head back to bed!" He ordered, mumbling thankfully when Raven walked off. Karmel's voice bounced around his head like an annoying child.

"I could've kissed him, I could've kissed him, I really could've kissed him, good fuck, I could've kissed him. He was so close, I really could've kissed his angry fucking ass. Oh my fucking- I could've kissed him, I could've kissed him."

"Yes, you could've, now shut up!" Charles begged to no one in the room, doubled over his bed.

Back in Karmel's room, he paced around in frustration; he could have kissed Erik, he really could've! He was so in over his head about the missed opportunity after being interrupted, he didn't fully process the bangs and stumbling he heard from down the hall until it was close to his bedroom door.

Charles slammed Karmel's bedroom door open, gasping some words that were barely recognizable.

"Charles-?" Karmel called, jolting a bit in surprise.

"Shut up," Charles gasped, repeating it once it was coherent."Please, Karmel, shut up. I can hear your raging thoughts from down the hall without even trying to, please, mate, shut up."

Karmel's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, eyes going wide once he understood."Oh my- I'm sorry!" He apologized, walking over.

Charles put up a hand, stopping him."No worries," he wheezed, "just...go to bed, please. Try to sleep. This most likely won't be your last opportunity to kiss a guy."

Karmel blushed a bit."You- You think so?"

Charles sighed in relief once Karmel's thoughts died down from inside his mind."I know so."

"Erik- Erik's...Erik's like me?" Karmel looked dumbfounded.

"Even more so, mate. You can like girls. Erik can't. Now go to sleep, and try not to project so much. Same thing happened on the boat when we first bloody met the man" he explained, walking away.

"I-" Karmel stopped himself, watching Charles trudge down the hall. He hung his head, and wondered that if Erik liked boys, could Erik ever like him?"G'night, Charlie. Sorry."

"Goodnight, Karmel."

#X-men #X-men OC #xmen #xmen oc #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr x male #erik lehnsherr x male!oc #male oc #oc #male x male #male x oc #male x canon #canon x male #canon x oc #oc x canon #oc x male #brad

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reeree1500 · 6 years ago

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The Return- Part 9

Disclaimer: Im so sorry for keeping you guys waiting, but Ive been trying to figure out my new schedule and had literally no time to write anything down 😬 This part contains lots of angst and honestly I don't feel like its the best🤣 I want to thank��y'all for all the love and support💕☺️And forgive me in advance for this is 100% gonna be utter shit😭🙏🏽 So don't kill me😅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @cutegyrl927 @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @cindy-exo @amy8220 @affection-rabbit @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms @limbo-limbo-limbo @ragnarssonsbitch @supernaturalvikingwhore @ifihadwings128 @paintballkid711 @jenny-the-lover @funmadnessandbadassvikings @blonddnamedhandz @hallowed-heathen @pinkrockstar19

- Sorry if I missed any of you💕 Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Also requests are open, and I’ve got a ton of them to do and finish. Hopefully Ill be able to post them soon enough

Warnings: Angst, Violence, bad grammar + spelling.😂

Your POV

“My wife...” At Ivar’s words you had felt as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest, crumpled, and stomped on by him right in front of you. You just looked at the blonde beauty and thought about how perfect she was and how you could have never compared to her. “(Y/n), are you alright? You seem pale and quite unwell.” Freydis says to you with what would seem as genuine concern in her eyes. Your mind was at a loss for words, something that did not happen often to you anymore. You didn't know whether it could've been out fo jealousy or if out of shock and what seemed like a flare of anger rising in you. “Just a little light headed, that's all. Anyways, are you alright if we go up to the castle now? Or are there anymore people on the ship?” You say through gritted teeth and a fake smile on your face. Freydis exchanges a look with Ivar and he then turns to you with a smile on his face nodding. As the three of you turn to walk towards the hill leading to the castle, you noticed how Freydis gushed over Ivar in front of you. Occasionally she would turn and pretend to admire her surroundings and meet your eyes trying to show off. You promised yourself that for the love of your siblings and family that you would go along with the facade and pretend as if you didn't want to kill her every time she clung onto him like that. But it was proving much harder than you had initially thought. “Freydis, I would like a moment to talk to (y/n). You can continue making your way to the castle with a few of my men, just be careful love.” You heard Ivar say to her as his lips grazed hers.

Why had you been so jealous? You were happily married now to Arthur and had 2 beautiful children by him. As you would not let yourself think otherwise as to who the possibility of who the father could be. Not paying attention to Ivar or his “wife” you kept looking out towards the gardens and the townspeople. Your body is then whisked around rapidly by your so called “brother” and you come face to face for the first time in 4 years. “Why?” “Why what Ivar?” You say rolling your eyes at him trying to avoid this touchy subject. “You know exactly what!” He says pulling you off to the side and out of hearing range of anyone around. “How could you keep my children away from me!”

Ivar says as his grips tightens on your arms, surely to leave a bruise. Back then you would have cowered with fear at his tone of voice. But now you were a queen and Arthur had made you realize that no one not even himself could ever trample over you again! “First of all, you are not the king here and you DO NOT! Call the shots!” You say gripping his hand and forcing it to unclasp your arm. “Secondly, my children have a father and his name is Arthur Pendragon. The King of this land and I am his queen and I will not have you disrespect him with such blasphemous words leaving your mouth!” You say to him, with as much venom as you could muster laced into your words. His eyes showed shock and admiration in them. Surely in his mind he thought about how much you had changed and how the once scared girl that graced the land of Kattegat was now gone. Ivar knew the answer to his question though. You could not bare to let him in on the fact that you had bared him children, it would have placed everyone you cared for in the danger you had placed so far away from you. Not waiting for him to answer and get his words together you turn around and leave him behind in the dust. Walking away you felt empowered and for the first time like you had the control over him and it felt good.

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Making your way through the halls of the castle you finally reach the hall to see everybody gathered and chatting with each other. Marjorie notices you enter and springs quickly from Arthur’s lap and makes a bee line for your arms. “Mama! You're just in time, Uncle Bjorn is telling us stories of when you were my age. Frankly you were quite boring, but it’s okay you’ve gotten a wee bit more fun!” She said as she clung around your neck. This child you say as you internally roll your eyes. She could always leave a whole room without words in seconds. But it was a quality that you were quite fond of. Carrying Marjorie in your arms you made your way towards Arthur and sat beside him. Marjorie then jumps from your arms to Arthurs lap and starts to play with the buttons on his jacket. Marjorie adored her father and it was evident to everyone who would look their way. Especially Ivar who sulked and gritted his teeth every time his eyes laid on her playing with Arthur.

Arthur lived to serve our children, but Marjorie was his mini-me. However, Erik was all mine. At that I call Erik away from the candies I know that he so desperately wants to eat, but that I will not let him. This boy is hyper enough as it is and I cannot handle so much excitement and emotions today. His little eyes turn to me pleading for a small bite of the sweets that are bestowed upon him. However, I am firm in my decision and although disappointed he makes his way to me with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Holding him in my arms I cannot resist, but spin him around as we both giggle and fall to the floor in a fit of laughter. “You're an exceptional mother (y/n), I always knew you would be.” Bjorn says whilst looking toward me with tears brimming in his eyes. “I feel incredibly proud of you for pushing past all the horrible things that have been placed in front of you and you coming out on top.” At that tears begin to form in mine. “Ok, Ok. No more crying. I feel as if there has been enough of that in our lives to last us the rest of them.” Hvitserk says whilst laughing. At his comment everyone laughs and that is when Sara enters the hall. “Your highness it is time for their majesties’ lessons.” She says whilst bowing her head. At that Erik and Marjorie stand up and rush towards her. They loved Sara and treated her as if she were their older sister. In fact she was Mira’s younger sister who was sent to me by Gisela when she found out about my pregnancy. I could not have asked for a better tutor for my children. Saying my goodbyes to them I turn to walk towards my husband, but come to notice a certain look on a certain bear like man. Bjorn’s eyes hold an astonished look of admiration and adoration. The look of a man who's been taken to heaven and does not wish to come back.

Arthur taps my knee to grab my attention, but he notices what Ive just witnessed and a smirk is displayed on his face. “It seems that our little Sara has caught your interest, Bjorn?” Arthur says playfully to him. “Yes, it appears to be so. Ive never met such a beautiful woman in my life.” Bjorn says still in what seems to be a trans like state of some kind. “Bjorn, surely you’ve met more beautiful women than a simple tutor and maid, have you not?” Freydis says from Ivar’s side. Her comments made by blood boil, which Arthur noticed and took quick action against. He placed his arms around my shoulders and whispered sweet nothings into my ears. He then lays one of his hands on my lap, to then which I place my hands on his, holding him ever close to us.

The way she caresses his hair and the way she positions herself beside him is bothersome to me. It goes to show that Freydis is a woman that will do anything to keep him, even if that a means worshipping him like a God. Trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension that quickly seems to be building up. Arthur asks about Kattegat and how it has been since we left. What we didn't know was that at this very moment just a few feet away was the person who would bring about sorrow and grief everywhere they went. Especially to me.

-------------------------------

Bjorn’s POV

When Arthur asked about the current state of Kattegat, my hands balled into fists. Not by his question, but because the ruin of Kattegat had come with us to England. “Well, it could be better, but I will not ruin our visit with such an ill subject.” I reply in a tone in which everyone understands that the subject matter at hand should not be one to be discussed. At the moment (y/n) decides to turn the attention upon Ivar and his new wife. It was obvious that she was hurt by it, however knowing my sister she would never admit that to a soul. She was moodier then I could remember her being, but it could just be the fact that people in England are moodier then everyone. “When and how did this come about, and why had we not heard sooner about this union Ivar. Where you hiding your wife from me? Or did you simply want to take us by surprise when you brought your whore to a place where my children reside? Huh!” (Y/n) says while she stands up, rage very much evident in her eyes.

At that the room became silent and servants who seemed shocked and outright astonished by the fact that (y/n) was behaving this way. Arthur stood up from his throne and pulled her body into his as a way to try to calm her down, but we knew that it would not be so easy. “Control yourself (y/n), please. This is not good for you and you know it. The doctor said you should rest and not become stressed. Please I beg of you, listen to me and stand down.” Arthur whispers into her ear. After what seems like ages (y/n) looks down and Arthur softens his hold on her. A quiet Im sorry leaves her lips and she walks out of the room towards what seems to be her quarters. I would have to check up on her, this was very unsalted behaviour for her and it worried me.

Arthur clears his throat and asks the servants to shows us to our rooms, but not before asking Ivar to stay behind. “Ivar, please stay. I would like to have a word with you and apologize for my wife’s behaviour towards you both.” As everyone moves Freydis seems to stay in her place by Ivar’s side. Obviously not getting the fact that she was not part of the conversation that was to be had. “Alone.” Arthur says while facing the window and his back to them. Something that I knew bothered Ivar very much...Authority and power which he could do nothing about.

---------------------

Arthur’s POV

“So, what is it that you wanted to speak to me about, besides your wife’s ridiculous outburst?...Your majesty.” Ivar says through gritted teeth. Turning around I keep my face stoic as ever, however all I wanted was to punch this man in the face for all the pain and suffering he had not only caused my wife, but her people as well. I had heard of Ivar’s actions against his people from my spies in Kattegat and from Bjorn himself. I knew that the once respect that I held for this man had gone out the window the moment he started burning everyone who opposed him. “Come, I wish to show you something out on the balcony.” I say to him as I walk without waiting for his reply. I can feel his eyes burning holes into my skull, but I care not for this as I have more pressing matters at hand.

Stepping out onto the balcony I look over the lands that had been bestowed upon me by my father. “These lands, were given to me by my father, who which in turn got them from his father, and so on. One day when (y/n) and I are gone these lands shall go to Erik or Marjorie... Our children.” In this moment Ivar scoffs and I could see him roll his eyes at me. “Your children? We both know who damn well! Fathered those children Arthur! It wouldn't take much to see the resemblance between us!” He yells at my direction. “I invited you to my home so that my wife would be able to see her family once again away from the dangers of Kattegat! But I now see that it was a mistake to invite you here. Erik and Marjorie are not and will never be yours! And on top of that you come with a “wife” who's sole purpose of your marriage was to get your mind off of my wife! MY WIFE! Whom shall never be yours!” I yell at him as my patience wears thin. Unable to hold back the anger and resentment I feel towards him anymore, I grab him by the collar and push him towards the railing. Grabbing him so that he may not fall, but just enough to try and scare him.

However, I underestimated him and feel my footing quickly fall from beneath me. Ivar then lunges himself on top of me and begins to throw punches left and right. I dodge and fight back as much as I can, but he is able to get a couple of punches in. Spotting an opportunity I quickly flip us over and start punching him for everything he has done. At this point I see red and fear that there will be nothing to stop me from killing him. Except my wife. “Arthur! Let him go! What are you doing!” She says as she runs towards us. In that moment I forgot about ivar and stared at my wife, but it only took a second for Ivar to kick me and cause me to crash against the railing itself. “Ugh!” Before I could lunge myself at him (y/n) threw herself in front of him. And I stopped dead in my tracks. How could I have been so foolish to think that she could have ever loved me back. To think that we could have actually had something. NO! She will always choose him, she will always choose Ivar.

Your POV

I couldn't let them go on. I couldn’t let my husband kill the man that I once loved. No matter how much he deserved it, but Arthur didn't understand that. He didn't understand that I had put Ivar behind me and that now all I wanted and all I needed was him. Arthur looked like as if his world had been flipped upside down and like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, by me. Shaking his head he looks down and heads inside. Not before stopping and turning around to face Ivar one last time. “If you ever utter the words that Erik and Marjorie are yours, I will not hesitate to kill you on the spot. Im done showing mercy and being the fool.” And with that he walks inside bloodied and leaving me astonished. “(y/n), I...” “Shut up! Just shut up! How dare you! Did I not warn you that something like this would happen! You need to stop Ivar, Erik and Marjorie are not yours and will never be! Arthur has been the father that they need and deserve. You on the contrary will never be their father, because all you do is bring me pain!” I yell at him through the tears that fall down my face like a cascade.

“How could I have proven to you that I could be great father, when you didn't even give me a chance! I gave you a way out of the situation you were in! I told you that we could have run away together and lived together as a family away from it all. But you! You decided that I wasn't good enough for you!” He says standing up from the ground cradling his side, obviously showing that Arthur had got in a good punch or two. “I couldnt have and you know it! Floki he...” I begin to say before I stop myself and think about that night. “What! What did he say to you (y/n)! What lies are you gonna spew out about the only man that has ever cared for me my entire life!” He says getting extremely close to me, his eyes showing hints of a side to him that I had never come across but had heard from the gossip and read from the letters Bjorn sent to Arthur. “Your precious Floki threatened me with your life and that of everyone who is close to me, if I didn't leave Kattegat! So yes! Blame me Ivar for being so selfish that I placed your life and the lives of everyone I cared about before my own!” With that I left Ivar standing there in the balcony by himself, just like I had left him that night 4 years ago.

---------------------------

1 month ago...

“What do you need of me, my queen?” Freydis said to Aslaug. “Ivar and his brothers shall be visiting England fairly soon and I will need you to be my eyes and ears into everything that occurs there. I wish to know exactly what (y/n) and her husband have been up to, I hear that their union had been blessed with children. Find out more about them and if you ever get a chance, take this.” Aslaug says as she pull out a vial. “This will ensure your reign as Queen of Kattegat and will finally put an end to that Christian child. I do not care of she's miles away, while she breathes Ivar will never be yours. And he will never grow to be the man that I wish him to be.” Aslaug says with a cold heart and an even colder face. “But, she's of no danger to me. Ivar is mine and he always will be, its been fated by the gods themselves.” Freydis says giving the vile back. In that moment Floki comes out from the shadows. “I have lost all whom I care about, because of (y/n). Ragnar, Bjorn, Ivar and Helga have all turned their back on me because of her. I was forced to kill my own wife because of what she did in order to save this child. And you too will lose, if you do not comply with our demands.” He says whilst placing the vial back into Freydis’ palm. “You must do this if not for us, then for Ivar and all of the gods.”

“I will...”

71 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 6 years ago

Text

Imagine.

Erik and reader having sex for the first time since their baby was born. Reader trying to cover up her post baby body after having her baby.

————————————————————————

You stood naked in front of your bathroom mirror, silk robe open admiring your body. It most definitely wasn’t the same. There was new plumpness to your body, new stretch marks, breasts heavier, belly deflated a little from your huge baby bump but it was still kind of fresh. The middle of your belly however you hated. Your belly button poked out and it was surrounded by light stretchmarks with a c-section scar on your lower belly.

This definitely wasn’t the body you wanted to have after birthing your beautiful baby boy. You began to understand why a lot of girls wanted that “snap back” effect. They would work out how ever long they could and eat clean during their pregnancy, but you would just lay around and eat, complaining about sore feet and back. You could have eaten better, but your cravings were a mess.

Erik: Y/N? Baby what’s taking so long?

Reader: coming babe! *wraps robe around yourself*

You step out of the bathroom, blessed with the sight of your man. His body was illuminated by the low lighting, completely naked and ready to devour you.

Erik: Babe...take that shit off *laughs*

Reader: okay...

You give him a small smile, untying your robe but before you completely take it off, you turn the lights off, the only light coming from outside the open window.

Erik: Y/N, we don’t fuck with the lights off in here. You know that, right?

Reader: well, maybe we should try it more often.

Erik: *rolls his eyes* C’mere you’re too far.

Erik sits up on the edge of the bed, his eyes on you with a primal look. That alone makes you nervous, finally stepping closer to him. Erik reaches out, his hands palming your ass first before gripping the robe, slipping it off. Instinctively your hands wrap around your belly, head lowered so you wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Erik: Y/N? *gives you a stern look*

Reader: *timidly moves arms away*

Erik couldn’t really SEE your body, that was a good thing. You watched him place delicate kisses on your belly before pulling you down to straddle him. You gasp from the feeling of his dick sitting between your legs, Erik’s mouth attacking yours automatically.

Erik: You don’t know how much I miss fucking you. *puts his tongue in your mouth* now I can fuck you whenever and however the fuck I want.

That drove you crazy. His hands gripped your back, causing you to blush. Your hands massaged his scalp, your hips grinding into his. His lips left your mouth, trailing down your neck now sucking and kissing.

Erik: My sexy baby. *kisses* Daddy miss that pussy.

Reader: *moans*

The feeling he gave you was just the same as before. You were always going to be Erik’s baby. Erik brings you out of your thoughts, flipping you over onto your back, his lips on your heavy breasts. He licked tenderly, not too rough since you were still very sensitive there. It felt amazing.

Reader: Yes...that feels so good.

Erik: I bet that shit does, taste good too.

He chuckles deep, his tongue flicking rapidly.

Erik: Y/N, I’m sorry baby but I gotta see you. *lifts up to look down at you* I can’t even see all of my baby. What you’re tryna hide from me?

You don’t say a word as your hands went to wrap around your belly.

Reader: Nothing...

Erik: kisses your cheek* Y/N, I hope this isn’t about what I think it is.

Erik could tell, he always could.

Erik: You know I don’t care, right?

Reader: that’s you though, not me...

Erik heard enough. He lifts up walking over towards the door to flick on the light to the master bed room. Instantly, you cover yourself, hiding your face. Erik shakes his head, walking back over towards you. He settles himself next to you, pulling the covers from your face.

Erik: Y/N. For you to even think that I give a fuck about your post baby body is ridiculous.

Reader: how? It’s not the same.

Erik: what did you expect it to look like? Your body is going to change. You know that.

Reader: Yeah well I don’t like the change. I look disgusting.

Erik: *closes his eyes* what I tell you about that kind of talk? Cut that shit out Y/N I’m forreal. Ain’t no girl of mines gonna walk around here hating her body.

Erik pulls the covers off rapidly, watching as your body curls up. He admires your fullness, and your stretch marks.

Erik: all I see is a whole ass meal.

Reader: stop lying.

Erik: all I SEE is a beautiful women right now who birthed my son, that’s all.

Erik notices that you began to cry a little. You were always very emotional. This was a touchy subject for you.

Erik: Y/N, please? Don’t cry baby. I just wanna enjoy your body.

The way he asked melted your heart.

Reader: *sighs* okay...

You finally lower your legs, body on full display now. Erik’s provocative eyes roamed your body from head to toe, taking in all your flaws with the same salacious nature.

Erik: *grips your chin* where’s the problem Y/N? Point to it.

Reader: *points to belly*

Erik climbs over you, lowering his head to your belly. He began kissing you passionately, his lips all over you there and his tongue licking at your stretch marks and outie belly button. It sent shivers down your spine the way he took care of you, your hands in his wild dreads.

Erik: I love this beautiful body * grips stomach softly*

Reader: *gasps*

Erik trailed his lips down to your pussy, dragging his lips over your thighs, his eyes focusing on your heavenly figure. He gripped your thighs, spreading them, the view of your pussy causing him to grunt deep within his chest.

Erik: There that pretty pussy go *kisses* you just don’t know Y/N..

He caresses your pussy with his tongue and lips, each motion careful and savoring. He wanted to remember how his girl tasted.

Erik: still the best pussy in the world.

He gives you that sly little smile you couldn’t stand before going back to work. Clearly things still worked down there, your body arched against his actions, his hands gripping yours firm.

Reader: right there Erik, yesss right there!

Erik: I know baby I got you. *chuckles*

He flicked your clit back and forth rough, your hips shaking and your sweaty fingers trying to hold onto Erik tighter.

Reader: E !!!!!!

You clamped his face with your thighs, riding out your orgasm with his lips tasting every last bit of you. Erik gives you a final kiss to your inner thigh before standing in front of you. He didn’t have to ask you because your mouth was already on the tip of his dick. Erik’s hands felt up your breasts.

Erik: that’s it baby, suck Daddy dick.

Erik gripped your hair firmly, guiding your head. This man deserved all the love and affection you were giving him. You sucked him up with your pretty eyes plastered on his face, taking in the longing look he had etched across his face. That sight alone, along with the multiple curse words that left his mouth pushed you further.

Erik: fuck, Y/N *palms face* so damn good.

You wanted him to cum deep so you could take in the taste.

Reader: come on baby don’t be stingy with it.

You smile with a mouth full of dick, mind and body fully relaxed.

Erik: *fucks mouth*

His hips moved frantically, eyes squeezed shut and his hands massaging your scalp.

Erik: SHIT. Fuck I’m cumming..

He jerks, stilling himself with a flex of his toned abs before using the back of your throat like target practice. You hummed around him, sucking the rest up before releasing your mouth.

Erik: *picks you up* wrap your legs around me Y/N

You did what you were told, his fingers digging into your plush love handles. He lowered you over his dick slowly, reminding you of every inch. The stimulation ripples through you like a tidal wave, ending at your toes causing them to curl. Erik hooked his arms under your thighs, your arms coming around his neck.

Erik: Like I said, the best pussy right? *bits lip*

Reader: yes baby. And this is the best dick.

He fucked up into you swiftly.

He slaps your ass from the good feeling.

He nibbles on your neck, leaving love bites.

This strong beautiful man handled your body like it didn’t weigh anything. He gripped you and kissed you and whispered sweetly, all the while fucking into your post baby body.

The body that you couldn’t stand, but he loved.

Erik: don’t ever hide this body from me. Don’t ever keep this sexy ass body from me! I came deep in you right?

Reader: yes! *whimpers*

Erik places you on the bed, fucking into you with deep strokes, his hips rolling smoothly, hands on either side of your head while he admired your body.

Erik: I put a baby in you! *grunts* my nut got you pregnant. So guess what? *pounds harder* I’m responsible for this fine ass body you got.

Your response was an orgasm, coating his dick with your liquid generously.

Erik: mmm, FUCK. *hisses* you just might get another one put in you tonight keep cumming and gripping this dick like that and WATCH WHAT HAPPEN.

#killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader

469 notes · View notes

amaralanegra · 7 years ago

Text

Into the Abyss (and back into you)

ao3 link

Chapter 1: First Day

Pairings: A LOT

Warnings: none atm

Summary: After being rescued, child soldier survivor Bucky Barnes tries his hardest to have a normal, ordinary high school life despite the terrors that still haunt him. One day, he receives an email that he thought would never come -- the private investigator he had hired found his mother. He has to make a plan and act quick if he doesn't want to lose her again. Sam Wilson, aspiring therapist, loves his family and his friends. After his best friend Bucky cuts off communication from their friend group, his sister goes missing. A hashtag, a social media movement, a nationwide search. But there's no trace of her. After finishing high school, Bucky contacts him once more, telling him that he knows where to find his sister. With the help of his friends, they all travel throughout the United States to find Sam's sister and Bucky's mother. And perhaps love in the way, too.

A/N: DONT FORGET TO LIKE COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE

Steve♢ is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ) is online

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is online

Sammy is online

Steve ♢: first day of school o(*^▽^*)o

Steve ♢: you guys excited?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ): of course

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i cant wait to finally step into that hellhole we call school

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and die.

Bucky ( ˘-__-): ^

Sammy: facts

Steve ♢: you guys…

Steve ♢: we only have this year together!

Steve ♢: we gotta enjoy it!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): oh ill enjoy it alright

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): im always happy whenever i get home from school u know

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): its a good change from the crippling depression i feel whenever i step into those shitty gates of hell

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): did i also mention i get diabetes type fuck-school whenever i enter school

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): its life-threatening steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i could die

Sammy: tick tock then bitch

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): shut up sam

Steve ♢: come ooooon

Steve ♢: you'll be ok! You have me, Sam and Bucky!

Steve ♢: i honestly think this year will be great! Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): yeah

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i hope so too

Sammy: Alright Steve we'll see you at school

Sammy: I’m about to start driving now

Steve ♢: ok, see you guys! Bucky ( ˘-___-): Oh hey btw

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Don't forget to eat

Bucky ( ˘-___-): You always skip breakfast...

Bucky ( ˘-___-): At least drink orange juice

Bucky ( ˘-___-): That should help a bit

Steve ♢: yep!

Steve ♢: i won’t forget (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Good!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): gay

Bucky ( ˘-___-): I meant that in the most heterosexual way possible

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): when do you ever

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): remember that time you pulled down Steve’s pants while we were at the pool high af

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): because i do

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and his ass...

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): it haunts me

Steve ♢: i tend to have that effect on people.

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i haven’t been able to sleep since then Steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): you monster

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik hurry up we’re already waiting outside

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): dont you fucking try to change the subject

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): remember that time you pole danced and strip teased when you were drunk out of your mind

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): because i do

Steve ♢: but that happened last month

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and yet it feels like an eternity

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Why can’t you guys forget the embarrassing shit I do for like once in your lives.

Sammy: cuz it was fucking hilarious thats why LMFAO I think I still have those polaroid pics somewhere

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): n cuz that’s what friends do

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and apparently for you friendship is also traumatizing me with steves bare ass and your slutty pole dancing

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i’ve had night terrors ever since

Steve ♢: lol

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik. hurry up. before I go in there. and beat you. in the face and ass.

Bucky ( ˘-___-): We’re already late. Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): aw

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): come on you know that my hair takes long

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): shit i should be a model for l'oreal

Sammy: we’re leaving

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): okokokok im going out

Steve ♢: lol be careful

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): we will try

Bucky ( ˘-___-): See you Steve!

Steve ♢: byeee

Steve ♢ is offline

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is offline

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

Sammy is offline

“About time,” Bucky says as he reclines in his seat and pulls down his beanie with a huff, almost fully covering his eyebrows. Sam looks at the backseat through the rearview mirror as Erik lazily opens the door and sits on the middle of the backseat with a groan, his black hoodie still pulled up and hiding half his face.

“Sorry.” Erik says, sounding annoyed and not sorry at all. Both boys can hear the loud trap music coming from one bud of his gold earphones while the other hangs low down his neck. He leans back and closes his eyes, already looking drained of energy before the day even starts. “There was a problem.”

Sam starts his car while keeping both of his hands on the steering wheel, “What happened?” he asks.

“Is Valentina okay?” Bucky also asks, peeking at him over his shoulder.

Erik rolls his eyes at him. “The goddamn cat is fine.” He sighs and sinks further into his seat. “Nah. Do y'all remember my cousin?” Erik taps Bucky’s shoulder to make him fully turn around, as though he wants him to see the pain in his eyes as he speaks. “The one in Wakanda? Annoying, quiet, and thinks he’s better than everybody else?”

Bucky wrinkles his nose in confusion and looks to the side as he tries to remember, but comes up empty. He shrugs.

“Ah,” Sam says, nodding. “Yes, I remember you fondly telling us about him.”

“Well,” Erik says, putting extra emphasis on the word by rolling his eyes once again. “He moved here. Has been at my house all summer. And I have to share my room with him.”

Bucky nods in silent understanding and Sam keeps driving in silence, expecting Erik to continue talking about how his life is full of struggles. But instead Erik sits there with his arms crossed, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips forming a pout like a child. Bucky would call him cute, but starting his morning with a black eye isn’t on his to-do list.

“And um,” Bucky starts, uncertainty in his voice. “That's it?”

“That is it.” Erik scoffs, sliding further into his seat. “I don't want to share my room with him. Shit, I don't want to share it with anyone! Both him and my little cousin, Shuri, are here. They are filthy fucking rich, I don’t get why they gotta live with us.”

Bucky frowns and nods, trying to understand his unique situation. Sam instead feels the need to nervously scratch the back of his neck, but he doesn't want to let go of the steering wheel thanks to his road anxiety preventing him from even looking away. They know that Erik’s mom has been in a… feud of sorts with Erik’s paternal uncle. Erik wasn’t too specific of course, but they remember it made him upset enough to cry. And while they know he’s a soft guy under all the tough facade he puts on – he can’t say he doesn’t cry when watching the pet adoption commercials (“they are all alone, and sad, and the music doesn’t help, you assholes! Stop laughing!”) or that he doesn’t sing his heart out to the opening of his favorite anime – they also know that Erik loves his father, and he loves his mother, but one of them is gone and he has been too overprotective over the only one left. Erik’s hatred for his uncle has not stopped growing since that fight with his mom.

Remembering this, both boys feel an ache in their chest for their friend, wanting nothing more but to make him smile again.

Bucky is not much of a touchy person, so when he stretches to place his hand on Erik’s knee and shakes it in silent comfort, it doesn’t go overlooked. Erik smiles at him, and when he looks to the side of Bucky he sees Sam looking at him intensely.

“What?” He spats out on impulse under the sharp scrutiny.

Sam blinks once, twice, and finally he speaks. “You’re a better person than that old man is, you know.” He slowly says in that therapeutic, soothing voice of his, causing Erik to pause. “You’re a better person than your cousin, who didn’t stand up for you or your dad. You're kind, and you care so much. You— you're not afraid to fight for what's right. You’re way better than them, Erik, don’t you forget that, okay?”

Looking at him with wide eyes, Erik then slowly smiles, thankful for his best friend’s words. It might not fix it all, but it helps, even if just a little bit. He will be caught dead before he ever admits that, though, so instead he says ‘that’s kinda gay’ and laughs when Sam tells him to get the hell out of his car.

“We're here anyways!” He yells out, laughter still present in his voice.

Sam frantically locks his car and rushes to catch up with Erik and Bucky as both argue excitedly about an anime episode that streamed the night before. “Can one of y’all speak English, please?” He pushes them apart to be in the middle of them. “Or Patwah? Me kno ou to speak dat at least.”

Erik playfully elbows him and answers him with that smugness his teachers hate. “Amabini anokudlala oko umdlalo, uyazi,” he answers back, which makes Sam smile brightly and whisper ‘alright, okay, alright’ while elbowing him back.

Bucky, though, smiles and just watches their friendly bickering, finally feeling at home. He missed this feeling. He missed them both so much.

Somehow, they're already in front of their lockers, all three of them stopping together in order starting from Bucky to Sam to Erik. In fact, that’s how they met in middle school. They happened to have been assigned lockers right next to each other when school first started; Erik arrived first and mistook his locker for Sam’s, and when Sam got there Erik wouldn’t let him get close to it. They almost got into a fistfight until they both saw Bucky trying to open the locker they were both fighting for.

Of course, after all three of them were sent to the principal's office, they’ve been best friends ever since.

Erik starts to fumble with his lock, reciting the combination under his breath like he always does with important things he has to remember, until he hears Bucky whisper to Sam to turn around and look.

“Okoye! Koko!” The voice of some girl catches their attention. They turn their eyes to the row of lockers in front of them to see Okoye ‘Koko’ Milaje turn to her girlfriend just in time to catch her as she throws herself at her. Her girlfriend, Nakia, excitedly throws her arms around her middle, burying her face in her girlfriend’s chest. She says something that only Okoye can hear because she laughs brightly, leans down, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Sam smiles at Bucky, who smiles back at him and says “girls” as though that explains everything and turns to focus on opening his locker. From the corner of his eye he quickly realizes that only two people stop to stare at the couple, and only one looks like they’re disgusted… though they don’t do anything about it, instead opting to turn away from them. Good, Sam thinks. He doesn't have the time for that bullshit so early in the morning. He turns to mention it to Erik, and his friend’s expression is not the annoyed one he expected for witnessing the kiss since he says to hate ‘corny romantic bullshit’ (which is a lie, because he once caught him intensely watching a telenovela in the middle of history class) but instead his expression is just one of...pain.

Sam frowns, confused. Pain...?

“So that’s why he’s here…” Erik whispers, looking away from them.

Bucky peeks over his shoulder and turns to Erik while Sam orderly puts his belongings inside his locker, who is still looking at Erik from the corner of his eye. “Who?” Bucky asks.

“Huh?” Erik stops harshly throwing his books inside his locker to look at him askew. He comes back to himself soon enough though, and he quickly closes his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. “No, nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

Both Bucky and Sam look at each other, and suddenly, they feel the need to ask him about it again because the troubled look on their friend’s face bothers them, but the ring of the school bell interrupts before either of them can say anything.

“Well, gotta go.” Erik sighs irritably, slamming his locker door closed. “See y’all later – ah, wait. Both of you have art first period, right? With, uh, Ms. Minako?” He asks.

Sam nods. “Yeah, why?”

“Okay, so, my cousin.” Erik says, adding an eyeroll for extra measure. “He’s coming to our school.” Sam and Bucky both raise their eyebrows in surprise, and Erik nods. “Yeah, he’s gonna come to school here, sadly. For some fucking reason. Anyways, he’s probably going to be late since his dumb ass didn’t wake up on time ‘cuz he was busy moping around and I wasn't going to wait for him. He’s in the same class as y’all, I believe, so if y'all could, you know, show him around… or whatever… I’d be… uh,” he coughs into his fist. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it. Seriously.” His voice turns quieter and softer as he finishes, eyes cast away. He leans from one side to another on his heels like he always does when he’s impatient or nervous.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and decides to tease him. “Hold up,” he quickly leans over him, causing Erik to step back. “You’re asking us for a favor?”

“And does that mean you actually care about your cousin?” Sam asks, wrapping his arm around Erik’s shoulder to join in on teasing him too.

Of course, it’s a trick question. Both Bucky and Sam already know that Erik cares a lot about his family (except for his uncle) and that includes his so called ‘frigid ass cousin’, despite… current events. Erik is simply not an openly affectionate person and he would never admit that he’s not the ‘cold-hearted ass bitch’ he claims to be. He would rather dump all of his anime-inspired clothing than admit to having any sort of normal human feelings whatsoever.

“Fuck off!” He yells, pushing Sam off him as Sam laughs at his little tantrum, and Erik is suddenly thankful that his brown skin masks the heat rising to his cheeks. “Just – will you do it or not?!”

“Sure,” Bucky smiles. “He’s uh, quiet—”

“Full of himself—” Sam adds.

“Aaaand he’s annoying. Not hard to spot.” Erik scoffs.

Sam laughs and waves him goodbye. “Okay, you should go before you’re late.”

The smaller teen nods and turns around to head to his class, the sound of his boot heels echoing in the empty halls. While they walk towards their art class, Sam wonders what kind of person Erik’s cousin is and if he's as much of a jerk as Erik makes him out to be. Is he just as grumpy as Erik? Just as smart? Does he also say what’s on his mind without a filter? Does he smile? Is he just as direct? Does he care as deeply, but doesn’t show it? Is he just as soft when he wants to be?

… And is he straight?

“Good morning, Sam! Hello, James!” Ms. Minako welcomes them as they enter her room. “You guys are late.” She’s sitting on the same table as the rest of the students there, with a bunch of different colorful objects laid on it.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Sam greets her, Bucky greeting her too with a wave of his own as they make their way to the farthest seats at the other end of the table. Sam sets his backpack to his right with a pleased hum, while his best friend sits to his left and he takes comfort in the fact that nobody will sit by his right side. There’s plenty of other empty seats around so maybe he’ll have some peace of mind this year (last year he had the misfortune of being seated next to Tony fucking Stark). Besides, it’s not like anyone would decide to sit next to Bucky either, because last year the girl that did so ended up being his designated art partner… and let’s just say… not that many people can handle Bucky’s emotional outbursts. So, it’s a win-win that he gets to be with his best friend. Bucky can be a little weird, he won’t lie. But he knows his friend, he knows who he is, he knows his life and he knows what really happened during those years (news media be damned), so he's more than happy to deal with this so called 'trouble kid’ of the school. They don't know him like he does.

Ms. Minako checks them off the attendance list with a smile and counts the class again. It seems there’s students missing, judging from her confused face and her nervous pencil tapping. “Well, I guess most of you are here. Only two students are absent—”

As if on cue there’s a knock on the door, suddenly halting all talk.

“Oh! Must be the new student!” Ms. Minako declares cheerfully. Sam twists anxiously in his seat, leaning over to see who it is. Is it him…? “Open the door for him, please.”

One of the students next to her stands up and opens the door, returning to her seat quietly. From his spot, Sam can see him stride in.

The first thing he notices is his hair, his short fro perfectly shaped and adorning his face like a crown. His clothes look like they are from a quality brand -- elegant, but simple. Sam’s eyes go back up to his face and he finds warm brown eyes staring right back at him. He jumps slightly in his seat and feels his face warm up at getting caught staring, but Erik’s cousin doesn’t seem to mind because he smiles instead, winking at Sam with a tilt of his head.

Sam swiftly turns his eyes to his lap, repeating in his mind ‘STARE AT THE TABLE STARE AT THE TABLE STARE AT THE TABLE’ as he fidgets with a strand of his shirt. This definitely wasn’t on his to-do list either.

He winked at me?!

“Yo,” Bucky whispers to him. “Was it just me or did he wink at me?”

Sam blinks. “I thought he winked at me,” he whispers back.

“... Maybe at both of us? Probably you, though. I’m a mess.” He sighs, laying his head down on the table.

Sam snickers, playfully dragging Bucky’s long wavy hair to cover his face. “You wouldn’t look a mess if you used a damn brush, you lightskin 2-b Rapunzel.”

Bucky flips him off.

From across their seats he hears a couple of girls commenting on the new student’s appearance, one in particular making colorful comments in Spanish to her twin. Sam can recognize her voice without looking. Her name’s Chal, and her sister’s name is Ime. They all hang out together occasionally since their mom is good friends with his mom. They usually play video games when good ones come out and sometimes decide to have some impromptu language classes – the twins teach him Spanish, and Sam tries to teach them Patois, and they more or less manage to learn a couple of words since they use most of their learning time laughing hysterically at each other’s accents instead.

“El diablo,” Chal whispers to Ime. “Papasito… que guapo, no?”

Handsome. Sam hates that he understood that. Seems like those Spanish classes they gave him paid off.

Ime laughs and nods, saying something else to her sister’s ear. Chal giggles in response, patting Ime’s puffy hair bun until her sister pushes her hands away with a smile. Suddenly, Sam wishes he had a close relationship like that with his own sister, but he shakes the thought off as soon as the teacher speaks. Let’s not start the day with a gloomy thought.

“Hi!” Ms. Minako says. “You’re T.… challa... Uda… koh…?”

“T’Challa Udaku.” T'Challa smiles. “It’s okay. Just T’Challa is fine.”

“T’Challa?” Ms. Minako tries again, with a concentrated face.

T'Challa smiles again, and nods. “That’s right.”

Chal elbows her sister, whispering loud enough for Sam to hear. “Suena Africano, no? O quizás del caribe?”

“Africano, me parece.” Ime whispers back.

“Nah, es caribeño.” Chal shakes her head.

“Africano.”

“Caribeño, coño.”

“You have a slight accent.” Ms. Minako asks T'Challa, interested. “Where are you from?”

“I am from Wakanda.” He answers.

A tiny ‘fuck!’ is heard from Chal, but only Ime and Sam seem to notice. He tries not to laugh as Ime elbows her sister in the stomach. These girls.

“New to the country or the town?”

“Both.” T'Challa laughs. “It’s a lovely town.”

If only you knew, Sam thinks, you wouldn’t be saying that. But he shakes the thought off, again, trying not to be negative… again. It’s hard to not to be a pessimist. But enough is enough. He wants to be a therapist when he grows up, goddamn it, so he needs to get it together.

“Well, T'Challa, welcome to the country! Come on, choose a seat. Let’s start the class!” Ms. Minako gestures towards all the empty seats as she checks him off the attendance sheet. T'Challa turns over where a group of loud white boys are seated together, but his eyes pass right over them. He looks at the seat next to Ime and Chal (the latter batting her eyelashes dramatically, making T'Challa smile) and considers it, until he looks over at the end of the table where Sam is.

There’s one empty seat right next to his.

He looks decided then, walking past everyone and stopping right next to Sam with a click of his heels. Not quite believing what’s happening, Sam can only stare at his own hands and ask to whichever god is listening to make T'Challa sit somewhere else. Next to Bucky, even. He’ll do anything. Hell, he’ll stop eating his gran’s mac and cheese! But please, god, don’t let him sit next to him. T'Challa’s too… too…

“Is this seat taken?” T'Challa’s soft voice comes from his right, and Sam makes the mistake of turning his head towards him.

… Too pretty.

T'Challa’s eyes shine like the sun, his hand resting on the table. Sam’s breath hitches as dark brown eyes lock on his. His face is a little too close for his comfort, so Sam scoots back. T’Challa tilts his head to one side in confusion, waiting for him to answer but Sam can only focus on those lovely brown eyes of his, not even caring that the silence is getting a little bit too awkward, but he just doesn’t know what to say because T'Challa’s way too close and—

Bucky elbows him in the ribs, bringing him back to earth.

“Are you feeling alright?” T'Challa’s face turns to one of worry, somehow inching even closer to Sam. “You look—”

“I’m okay!” He blurts out, laughing nervously. He looks at Bucky from the corner of his eye and sees the bastard stifling a smile. Fucker.

T'Challa’s eyes widen in surprise, waiting for him to continue. “I’m—um, the seat isn’t taken, so…” Sam's eyes slide down to the empty chair while fake coughing and pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to play it cool. Oh my god this is too embarrassing why am I acting like this.

“Alright, thank you.” T'Challa’s face lights up and Sam can’t help but smile as well, despite how nervous he feels. T'Challa drops his bag to his side and sits down gracefully on the chair with a smile. “Nice to meet you,” he says with a radiant smile, while offering his hand to him like a proper gentleman.

Sam’s brain has the decency to remember to dry his anxiously-damp hand on his jeans before he shakes T’Challa’s with an equally anxious smile. It’s kind of odd, it almost feels like they’re finishing a business meeting. Why yes, sir, I’m glad we’ve come to the mutual agreement that I’m awkward as hell, let’s shake on it. But it could be a Wakandan thing, who knows. T'Challa has a strong grip on his hand as soon as they touch, and he shakes Sam’s hand with confidence, taking Sam by surprise as the strong shake dips him forward. He has no time to be embarrassed because T'Challa smiles at him and the guy giggles as though stumbling into someone else’s personal space is charming. He lets go of Sam and instead rests his face on his hand, two fingers up to support the crown of his head.

“What’s your name?” T'Challa asks, eyes filled with curiosity.

And it’s at this moment when there’s another knock on the door, catching everyone’s attention.

“Oh!” The teacher exclaims. “Must be the other missing student.” This time it’s her who stands up to open the door, blocking the view of Sam’s eyes to see who it is.

“You’re a bit late, mister.” She reprimands the student. “But it’s the first day, so I’ll let it slide this time, alright?”

“I appreciate it.” Says a deep, and… quite attractive masculine voice.

Ms. Minako stands to the side and shows him the way. “Come on in!”

As soon as the student enters the room he can see exactly who it is. M’Baku walks into the classroom with that confidence Sam is so jealous of, looking as handsome as ever. His dark brown skin glows despite the unflattering light of the classroom, as though M’Baku is the exception to little things like physics. His clothes, of course, always carry a Wakandan theme, showing off the beautiful African patterns and combination of colors.

Sam looks over to the twins and finds Chal fanning herself while looking at M’Baku, who suddenly has a distasteful look on his face when his eyes fall on the only acceptable empty seats in the room. The one next to Bucky, and the one next to the twins. His eyes soon fall on T’Challa, and he falters. He recovers quickly though and walks around the table to sit down right across from him – next to Bucky’s seat.

Sam’s eyes go back to T’Challa, who seems to be… frozen in place while looking at M’Baku. He gets it though. One time, he got to seat behind him in math class and every time the teacher called M’Baku’s name to mark him present, he would stand up and give Sam a great first row view of that—

“So, uh,” Bucky’s voice brings him back to earth. He turns his head towards him and sees him talking to M’Baku, who can’t look less interested. “Guess we’re art partners now, huh?”

M’Baku finally looks at him with a neutral look on his face and says, “I am lactose intolerant.”

Bucky freezes.

Sam completely loses it. He can’t help but laugh out loud, making a spectacle even though he tries his damn best to keep it in. Naturally, he attracts some of his classmates’ eyes, but he just can’t stop. He’s trying so hard, but Jesus. The look on Bucky’s face, he keeps remembering it and can’t help but laugh again.

“Mhm, keep on laughing, man. Just let it all out, you dick.” Bucky tell him as he claps Sam on the back, which only makes it worse.

Ms. Minako finally looks over at him, looking confused and quite annoyed at the noise. “Excuse me, Sam? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Sam, are you alright?” Bucky repeats, faking the worrying tone in his voice as he scoots closer to Sam to look him right in the eye.

“Y-Yes, miss, I’m— I’m fine,” Sam tries to tell her while desperately trying to ignore Bucky’s stupid face. “Thank you. Sorry about—” and he laughs again.

“Do you need to go to the nurse, Sam?” she asks, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah, Sam, do you need to go to the nurse?” Bucky repeats again with that dumb look on his face and it makes it harder for Sam to stop laughing.

“No! N-No, I’m alright. I’m so sorry, miss, please uh, please carry on.” He coughs and bites his lip, mustering all his energy into having a poker face. It doesn’t work, it just makes him look weird with his bulging eyes, tight lips and puffy cheeks… but the teacher is satisfied enough with it to let it go.

“So, uh,” Sam turns to Bucky, a smile threatening to slip past his lips but still desperately trying to look neutral. “Wanna change seats?”

Bucky licks his lips, also trying not to smile, and nods. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, let’s change seats, man.”

Once they’re at their new seats, Bucky turns to T’Challa. “Soooo, guess we’re—”

“I’m also lactose intolerant.” He tells him with a mastered poker face.

Sam lays his head down and covers his head with his arms to tone down his loud laughter, shaking and softly smacking the table with his first a couple times. Bucky can’t hold it in either, leaning forward on the table and shaking his head as he laughs with Sam. M’Baku joins in with a loud and deep ‘HAH!’ and nothing else. T’Challa smiles ever so slightly, and the sight almost makes Bucky stop, feeling charmed by his smile and the soft crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t quite get a look at him at first, but now he understands why Sam froze when T’Challa talked to him.

Sam coughs, and looks towards T’Challa, trying to frown in order to cancel out the dumb smile on his face. “Hey man, um, do you— uh, do you… wanna change seats?” He fake coughs into his fist, and Bucky feel his lips twitch. “Or, uh, or something?” Sam bites his lip again, praying to any god that is listening to make him stop laughing.

“I don’t see why not.” T’Challa calmly answers, picking up his stuff and changing his seat with Sam.

Once they’re finally seated, Sam speaks. “Don’t worry, Buck, I got you man. I, uh, you know, I take them lactaid tablets—”

Bucky whizzes out a small laugh, and nods. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam nods as well, patting him on the back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, you ain’t gotta worry about that.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky says, smiling at him. “I know I can always count on you.”

“Nuh-uh, uh!” Sam shakes his finger on his face. “Only as long as I got my lactaid tablets,” he adds, and after a second of dead silence they both laugh loud and hard, Sam leaning on Bucky and Bucky flinching for half a second but relaxing quickly enough against Sam’s warmth.

Sam looks up at him from his shoulder. “Stop making me laugh, man, fuck. My face hurts.”

Bucky shrugs, Sam’s head moving with it. “That’s karma, asshole.”

Sam shakes his head, and closes his eyes, smiling softly. “I hate you.”

Bucky snorts. “And I hate you too, sweetheart.” Sam smacks him for that, whispering ‘gross!’ to which Bucky replies ‘but you like it!’ to which the teacher replies ‘both of you boys better shut up unless you want to be sent to the principal’s office’.

Half way through the class, their phones both vibrate at the same time, and they instantly look at each other. After making sure the teacher isn’t looking at them, they look down to check who texted them from under the table.

Steve♢ is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is online

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is online

Sammy is online

Steve ♢: hey hey hey

Steve ♢: Erik told me about his cousin!

Steve ♢: is he cool?

Sammy: …….maybe

Steve ♢: ヽ(　･∀･)ﾉ i’ll get his number then!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve im begging you here

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): please dont fuck my cousin

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): p l e a s e

Steve ♢: you know, i wasn’t thinking about that

Steve ♢: but now that you mention it…

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve

Sammy: oh btw Erik your middle school crush is in our class

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): my middle school what now

Bucky ( ˘-___-): M’Baku. or did you forget about him already?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): fuck off bucks

Steve ♢: wait what

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik had like… the biggest crush on him back in middle school

Sammy: it was kinda cute tbh he would like… talk to him about this anime he really liked. which he got m’baku to watch somehow someway

Bucky ( ˘-___-): And there was this couple in the show. Real romantic shit you know? Erik would say how M’Baku is so much like the romantic interest of the hero

Sammy: and also how Erik was so much like the hero himself

Bucky ( ˘-___-): M’Baku never got the hint though. But it was cute to watch. A bit pathetic, sure, but cute!

Sammy: and of course a funny story to tell every person he dates lmao

Steve ♢: aww Erik you sweet thing you!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): this

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): is the worst day of my life

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): ever

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Hey do you remember that stupid song?

Sammy: which one Sammy: “M’baku and Erik sitting under a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G watching A-N-I-M-E”

Sammy: is it that one

Bucky ( ˘-___-): yeah! cute isn't he?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): IM BLOCKING YOU

Steve ♢: lol erik that’s so cute

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): IM BLOCKING BOTH OF YOU

Steve ♢: cute cute cute

Sammy: cute lol

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

Steve ♢: omg

Sammy: HE ACTUALLY LEFT LMFAOOOO

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i forgot to say something :)

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): FUCK YOU ALL

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Damn that’s hot

Steve ♢: i didn't know Erik was this adorable

Sammy: he aight i guess

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

This year is going to be fun.

#stucky #winterfalcon #t'challa x m'baku #t'chucky #erik killmonger x m'baku #nakia x okoye #sam Wilson x t'challa #black panther #black panther fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #captain america #my writing #my writings #my fics #yeah.

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sevenstevearmy · 7 years ago

Note

Do you see Zuri telling Erik what really happened to his father after he kills T'Challa in my AU scenario? Do you think Erik would kill Zuri if he did?

Erik would definitely kill Zuri should he say anything. He said he was going to kill T'Challa and then anyone who stood with him and even if he hadn't I think that would be a touchy subject and he'd kill him bc he doesn't seem the forgiving type. As for if Zuri would tell I think either he would be overcome by grief and guilt after T'Challa's death and spill it or his survival instinct would kick in. He's never told anyone but T'Challa about it and he seems very ashamed. Most people don't talk about what they're so ashamed of and regretful of unless they have to and if T'Challa is dead he'd no longer have to. As for the more likely scenario It's a tough pick but I think he would stay silent. He may tell later but after the battle I think he would be too overcome by grief and guilt to say anything or might still be in shock and going through the motions.

2 notes · View notes

emmerrr · 8 years ago

Note

If you're still accepting prompts, maybe some father-son bonding with Kevin and Wymack? I've always headcanoned that Abby would be the one to make them do it, so maybe some of that?

a wymack prompt! anon, you are speaking my language :) I set this really soon after TKM so it’s very early days bonding and it’s more wymack focused (I find kevin so hard to write even though I love him so much) but I hope this is okay!

(read on ao3)

Following their championship final victory against the Ravens and the shock of Riko’s ‘suicide’, David would have really preferred all of his Foxes to stay close, stay together, where he can keep an eye on them all. As it happens, during the month off before summer practices start again, his rag-tag team are even more scattered than they’d usually be this time of year.

The upperclassmen have all returned home with the exception of Allison who has gone with Renee, and even Andrew’s lot have separated. Nicky’s in Germany visiting Erik, and although Aaron, Andrew, Kevin and Neil have all been staying at Abby’s for easy access to the court, Aaron is spending the last two weeks with Katelyn and her family.

David knows that Andrew at least would have preferred to have spent his summer vacation at the cousins’ house in Columbia, but Kevin has understandably had trouble coming to terms with everything that has happened, and Andrew has always actually been very supportive if you know what to look for, and David does.

So they stayed on campus, near the court for Kevin. Neil’s easy to do whatever Andrew does, and it’s not like having extra Exy time would be a problem for him; he and Kevin are of the same mind in that regard.

Even Andrew has his limits, however, and so for the last few days of their precious time off, he and Neil head back to Columbia alone to have some time to themselves. It leaves Kevin without Andrew for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s not under Andrew’s protection anymore — he doesn’t need to be — but old habits die hard, and David finds himself wondering how well Kevin’s coping.

David spends most of Friday morning at the tail-end of summer break working from home in his apartment, sorting out arrangements for the new recruits to arrive; who’s going to pick them up from the airport, room assignments and so on. When he’s finished, he hops in his car and heads over to Abby’s, picking up coffee and donuts on the way.

“It’s only me,” he calls as he enters Abby’s house without knocking.

“In here!” comes Abby’s reply, and David follows her voice to the kitchen. Abby is washing the dishes and so her back is to him, but she turns when she hears him put his offerings on the table. She eyes the coffee and smiles. “You’re a life-saver.”

“I try.” David pulls out a chair and helps himself to a donut. “Where’s Kevin? I got one for him, too.”

Abby dries her hands and sits down opposite. “I dropped him off at the stadium about an hour ago.”

David frowns. “He’s practicing alone?” At Abby’s nod, he sighs. “Everyone else is taking a break, he should too. It’s only a couple days until everyone’s back anyway.”

Abby’s look is knowing. “I think he’s just trying to keep busy. It’s too quiet around here with everyone gone.”

“He could have gone with Andrew and Neil. I know Neil invited him.”

Abby arches an eyebrow. “Would you want to play third-wheel?”

It’s a fair point. No one really talks much about Andrew and Neil’s relationship because it’s not worth the aggravation of getting either no response, or of incurring Andrew’s ire. But a relationship it definitely is, so David can understand Kevin not wanting to intrude.

“Maybe you should go down there,” Abby says. “Keep him company for a little while.”

David takes a long sip of his coffee without breaking eye-contact with Abby. She acts casual, but David knows what she’s getting at. “I’m sure he doesn’t want me getting in the way,” he says.

“David,” Abby says gently, then seems to struggle to figure out what she wants to say next. “It’s just — have you spent any time with Kevin alone at all since finding out he was your son?”

“Hey, I took him to get his tattoo covered,” he says defensively, because the whole, hey by the way, Coach, you’re my dad reveal is a touchy subject; it’s still a little raw and Abby knows that.

“Yes,” she allows, “and then you let him get blind drunk the night before a championship final.”

David scowls. “We won, didn’t we?” Kevin had plenty of time to sleep it off on the bus and David had known that which was why he’d let it happen, but still, he supposes Abby has a point.

Abby graciously ignores his comment and bulls on in that gentle way of hers, a thousand times more effective than her getting angry would be. “You’re his father, David. You should get to know him outside of Exy.”

David sighs. Kevin’s words before the final — my father comes to all of my games — are still circulating in David’s head. He knows how to be Kevin’s coach, he just doesn’t know how to be his father. He was never given the opportunity to learn.

He can’t make up for time lost, but he has time now.

He downs the rest of his coffee and picks his keys up off the table. He points at Abby on his way out the door. “You’re a fucking menace, by the way,” he says, but there’s no malice in it. Abby just smiles and shrugs innocently.

Inside the stadium, David can hear balls ricocheting off the court walls before he gets close, and when he opens the doors to the outer ring, Kevin looks to be doing accuracy drills. There’s a bucket of balls in the middle of the court, and Kevin is studiously picking them out one by one and trying to rebound shots to the same spot over and over again.

David watches for a couple of minutes. Kevin hasn’t noticed his presence yet, his singular focus evident in his narrowed eyes, his posture. His dedication and drive to always better himself are enviable traits, and David is struck once again by how proud he is of Kevin. He’s come so far.

David turns and heads to the changing rooms, pulling on some spare practice gear and grabbing a helmet and stick. Abby had said to get to know Kevin outside of Exy, but Exy is something they have in common, and it’s the perfect place to start.

Kevin whirls around in surprise when David knocks loudly on the court walls to announce his entry, and almost drops his racquet when he takes in David all kitted out.

“Coach? What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you someone to play against,” David replies. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Kevin hesitates, then a small smile flickers on his face. “Not much of an opponent, are you,” he says, not a question.

He’s right, really. David doesn’t move like he used to, especially after his old hip injury, but even in his younger days he never quite had the skill that Kevin does. But that’s not really the purpose here. “It’s always useful to have someone trying to block you,” David reasons gruffly. “And don’t be so fuckin’ rude.”

For a couple of seconds David thinks Kevin might dismiss the exercise entirely as a waste of his time, but he tilts his head to the side, considering, and then he nods. Maybe he knows that running Exy drills isn’t David’s only agenda, maybe he just realises that playing against a person is better than playing against yourself. Or maybe he’s just lonely and appreciates the company.

Whatever the reason, David will take it.

Together they pick up the stray Exy balls that are scattered across the half court until there’s just one left. David moves the bucket down the opposite end of the court out of their way.

They face off at the half-court line, Kevin with the ball and David acting as a backliner. The game is simple: Kevin tries to score, David tries to stop him.

The first few times are child’s play for Kevin; David’s nowhere near warmed up enough, not to mention he hasn’t been on the court in a playing capacity for more years than he’s comfortable remembering. He half expects Kevin to get frustrated at not being pushed hard enough, but it doesn’t happen, and David soon finds his stride.

After Kevin gets past him for the eighth time, David steps back, makes an impossible twist and intercepts, cracking Kevin’s racquet with his own and catching the ball as it pops out of Kevin’s net. Behind his helmet, Kevin looks surprised and then impressed, clearly recognising the move, and David allows himself a small smile.

Kevin’s not the only one who was taught to play by Kayleigh Day.

They play for another intensive twenty minutes and David only manages to block Kevin a grand total of three times out of countless attempts, but Kevin doesn’t scoff, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t insult David by taking it easy on him or complain about the fact he doesn’t offer much of a challenge.

By the time David calls time, his hip is twinging from over-exertion — Abby’ll be mad — and he’s a panting mess. He lowers himself to the floor, leaning up against the court walls, removing his helmet and tossing it to the side.

Kevin takes off his own helmet, then jogs across court with the Exy ball and puts it back in the bucket. Then he jogs back over to David, barely looking out of breath.

David feels embarrassingly unfit.

But Kevin’s smiling slightly when he sits down at David’s side. “Good game, old man,” he says wryly.

David side-eyes him. “Back in my day, I’d kick your ass, kid.”

Kevin snorts. “Sure you would.”

They settle into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, and it gives David a chance to get his breath back. When he has, he says, “You’re looking good out there.”

Kevin shrugs. “My accuracy is still a little off.” He holds his left hand up between them, the scars prominent, and he narrows his eyes at them, expression pinched. “It’s just not quite there yet.”

“It will be,” David says with utter belief. “It’s already so much better than it was. Just don’t push it too hard. You can play with both hands now, and that’s an important weapon.”

Kevin nods. “Yeah. I know.” He sighs. “It’s just frustrating.”

They’re still talking about Exy, but it’s different somehow. It’s not within the context of an official practice, and although they’ve talked about Kevin’s hand before, they haven’t since David found out he was Kevin’s father. And it does make a difference. David cares about all his Foxes, all his kids, but there is a difference. Kevin’s his kid.

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” David asks.

“I was gonna call Abby and get her to pick me up. Read a book or something, I dunno.” He shrugs again, then looks at David. “Since you’re here, you can give me a ride instead though, right?”

“No problem.” He checks the time and reasons by the time they’re cleaned up and on their way, it’ll be a good time to eat. “If you want, or you’ve got nothing better to do, we could grab some lunch?”

Kevin pauses, starts picking at a thread on his jersey. “Just you and me?”

“And Abby, if she wants to come. We don’t have to,” David’s quick to reassure. Baby steps. No hard feelings. “It’s just a thought.”

“No,” Kevin says quickly, glancing at David and then away again. “No, that sounds good. We… we should see if Abby wants to come, though.”

Kevin gets to his feet and holds out his hand for David, a twinkling in his eye that reminds David painfully of Kayleigh. “C’mon, Coach, I’ve got you,” he says, all mirth.

David takes his hand and allows himself to be pulled up but he glowers at Kevin. “Just because we haven’t technically started the season yet, doesn’t mean I won’t sign you up for every fucking marathon I can for the next two years.”

Kevin grins. “You’re all talk. I know you, Coach.”

David smiles back. It’s a good start.

#the foxhole court #tfc #tfc fic #david wymack #kevin day #tumblr prompts

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durm-ff · 8 years ago

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if it makes you feel better

aaaand drumroll pleasee, i finished my last request!! i really can’t believe it. now i’ll make requests open again! i can’t guarantee that i’ll be faster with them, but i will have some free days this summer, so i’ll do my best :). this one shot head the plot ‘erik gets jealous about something’ so it was pretty vague and i didn’t want to make it basic, so instead i used a book i read recently as inspiration. it turned out to be pretty lengthy, oopsie. enjoy!!

It has been eight days. Eight full days since we said we couldn’t go through with this anymore. And what do I see? He is already with some bimbo he probably picked up one drunken night after we broke up. He is lucky it was the beginning of the summer break and his drunkenness didn’t have any consequences. Otherwise his sudden decision of picking up someone would have turned out disastrous as it seems that pretty little blonde wouldn’t have gotten the hint and would have just gone with him to practice, not knowing she was unwanted. Yes, that’s the idea I got after a second of seeing her. No brains. Awful I know. But who can blame me? We just broke up. Anyone by his side is a brainless bimbo.

But now, with a few days afterwards, he had the perfect opportunity to use her and bring her somewhere he knew I would be so that he can show me he’s moved on. I would lie if I’d say it didn’t bother me, because it did. No matter how well I knew him (and got texts from Matze, Roman, Marc, Julian, basically the whole BVB team explaining the situation), it hurt that he’d think that this is an adult response. That this is how you deal with a break up.

Standing next to a wall at Jonas’s wedding, I couldn’t help but glance at them from the corner of my eye. I came alone holding my head up high, not needing anyone else. Arriving alone at a wedding did not mean that I didn’t have friends, so it wasn’t a touchy subject. And once I arrived, I already saw five people in the first three seconds that I could have just walked up to.

I didn’t though. I didn’t need any questions about the break-up. I didn’t want to just tell my side of the story, and frankly, I didn’t need pouting acquaintances to reassure me that it is okay to be alone at a wedding. First of all, I know it is okay. Second of all, to hell with all of them, I didn’t come alone because I’m a miserable human being but because I felt like this was the way to show people I’m able to handle this. On my own. So damn you all that felt sorry for me.

I wish someone would have held my hand and reassured me that they don’t feel sorry for me but that they’re here just to make sure I’m okay and to help whenever I need them to. Eight days ago that would have been Erik. But it’s not eight days ago anymore.

Instead of a reassuring hand-holding, God thought he was funny and sent me a semi-alcoholic instead, the sister of the groom. Julia (how original, both siblings’ name starting with a J) has known me eversince I’ve known his brother, so the moment me and Erik got together basically. She was never the type to hug you and hold your hand, or tuck you into bed. She was rather your unconsciousness, telling you to stop being a little b*tch and grow up. Then she handed you a drink.

It wasn’t different this time either. She came with two drinks in her hand, one of which she gave to me. As I took a sip I immediately regretted it. ‘Jesus Jules, did you even put something non-alcoholic into this?’ ��Oh yeah, for sure, just a hint of Coke, the rest is whiskey. The normal ratio’. ‘Ugh’ – I heaved.

‘Don’t tell me this isn’t what you need.’ – she rested her head against the wall and didn’t even look at me. She knew the situation too well. I didn’t even have to explain anything. No, Julia wasn’t touchy-feely, but she wasn’t dumb either. So I shrugged and took another sip, this time trying to keep it down.

As the night went on, I did my best not to look at them. I did my best to keep my head up high, be as far away as possible from them and even to get to know people. Maybe the fact that news travelled fast and more and more male’s got to know that I was single, it wasn’t a hard task to achieve, but still. I tried to dance with my friends, I tried to engage in conversation with Erik’s teammates when he wasn’t around them. Wondering where he was at those times was hard, but I needed to do this for myself. Keep your head high.

Even if it was the hardest thing I’ve possibly ever had to do. Keeping your head up when the person you thought you would have a future together just gave up like that. He got a transfer offer to a club he would be able to play more and we were supposed to decide on it together, but there was tension. He wanted to go, and I knew it was his dream, along with me going with him, but I couldn’t just give up my whole life the minute he got an offer. So we agreed on a deadline. We would discuss it later.

Three days before our ‘deadline’ it got to a nasty fight, though. It was the day before the final Cup game and because it was a game that would consume the whole weekend, both of us were nervous and the tension just grew. I guess knowing that we won’t make a decision, it only became worse. Being the more sensible person in our relationship, not meaning to sound arrogant, but to be fair, it could also be seen tonight: he seeked drama, I kept my head cool.

I told him to wait just two days and not do anything that he would regret later. He wouldn’t listen and kept on saying that if I was not ready to take this step towards his dream, he couldn’t see us together anymore. I lashed back, asking that he knew that I wanted my life here and was applying to a master in Dortmund, why does it have to be me to follow him? Again, I reminded him not to say anything he would regret and to just wait two more days, but he didn’t. He said there was no reason to. I applied, and we wouldn’t have time to discuss it anymore.

The thing was, I was applying for a master in his future club’s city as well, but wanted it to be a surprise. If they win the cup, the happinness is even bigger, if they don’t, well, then there is something good after all.

But the fact that he didn’t even try to wait two days, that he didn’t have trust in me, that he wasn’t even trying to do this one little thing, because he thought we were doomed anyway, was the last straw. I agreed with him. We couldn’t do this anymore.

I managed not to run into him or his newly found bimbo all night. When I saw them somewhere, I tried to avoid them. And I think this helped the others also to just focus on the wedding and judging by how we both looked, they thought things were all right and got over it.

When the slow dance songs came on, however, I decided to go out onto the terrace, because I knew if I would have stayed there, I would have broken my facade and blew all that I’ve been working so hard for.

The wedding scene was beautiful. It was an old castle at the country side, with the main hall amazingly converted into a wedding location. The terrace looked onto the garden, but becasue it was dark now, all I could see was a patch of grass in front of the terrace, and the old motives in the tiles.

I rested my arms on the edge of the terrace, just taking in the cool air and finally breathing normally after a whole night of pretending. I was glad there was a place where I could be alone, otherwise the whole wedding group would have seen my embarrassingly sad face, which, of course, was not my goal.

I heard the sound of glass hitting the wall I was leaning on, and I looked to my side. It was a glass of wine put down by Erik. I didn’t even hear him come out. ‘Hey’ – he said. ‘Hey.’ – I replied uneasily. ‘Don’t you have a bimbo to look after? I bet she’s somewhere in there trying to find you because she can’t be on her own.’ I heard him snort and he replied casually. ‘She went home.’ He took a sip of his drink and looked around. ‘It’s really pretty out here.’ ‘Mhm.’ – I answered and took a sip of my own drink.

‘So why did she go home? I thought the whole point was to dance it up all night with her and get wasted.’ – I knew that by this point my burden was gone, he knew that I cared. But he knew me. And we both knew that the second we start talking, it will come out. ‘Because I told her to.’

I slowly looked up and tried not to show him more that I cared, but his answer struck me. Why would he send home the sole evidence that he’s moved on? ‘Yeah. I know what you’re thinking. That it’s pathetic.’

‘Well, yes, the whole thing is pathetic. But sending her home is even worse. Why not complete the reason she came? Now it just looks like bullshit.’ – I contemplained. ‘Because I became sure of you moving on, okay?’ – he said angrily. ‘So there was no reason for me to make you jealous anymore.’

I didn’t expect such an honest reply, but here we were. Right in the middle of it all. ‘Oh, so it was all just to make me jealous.’ – I pretended to be surprised. ‘As if you didn’t know.’ – he sighed and turned around to stare in the same direction I did. When I didn’t reply, he continued. ‘Fuck it, you know what? It’s been driving me crazy seeing you be so..happy? So unbothered by every awkward side of this wedding? You look good. Great, actually! I guess, having someone by my side was supposed to make me feel good about myself, that I’m not here alone. But you were, looking better than ever, and now I was the loser. I was feeling jealous, instead of you.’

I sighed. He was right. He described the situation perfectly. And in his shoes, I would have done the same. Play by open cards, tell everyhting. He had nothing to loose afterwards.

‘I’m not doing great, actually.’ – I said softly, looking out at the garden. He looked at me surprised, not saying anything. ‘And I got jealous too. What, you think eight days after it happened I’m completely fine? Come one, even you wouldn’t buy it.’

We fell silent. We were right where we left it. Both of us knew this wasn’t over. We didn’t have closure. Something still had to be said.

After some minutes Erik put his hand on mine. ‘If it makes you feel better, I won’t sign the transfer.’ I closed my eyes and slightly shook my head. This idiot would risk it all to make it all right. But he didn’t have to. I already risked it all.

‘If it makes you feel better, I already applied to the master there.’

He looked at me and his eyes asked all the possible questions one could ask in this situation. A combination of ‘Are you serious? This isn’t just a joke, right? Are we really doing this now?’ and I nodded. ‘Yes’ – was my answer to all of them.

He suddenly pulled me closer and kissed me, and I could finally smell his cologne up close which struck my nose when he came out to the terrace already. I held him and he held me. When he let go, I grabbed his hand, and we walked towards the hall. Before we stepped in, we looked at each other, and everything fell into place.

#erik durm #erik durm imagine #erik durm fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer one shot #erik durm one shot #borussia dortmund

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mysoftboybensolo · 8 years ago

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who are your favorite villain/hero(ine) ships??

Ok, since this is a touchy subject for some people, I am putting this under a cut. Enter at your own risk

I am going to do a top 5 list with a few honorable mentions

5. Darkness and Lili

It is a gothic fairytale, he is a literal devil, in love with the fair maiden. If this isn’t Hades and Persephone with a dark twist, I don’t know what is. Sure it is brief, but it has so much passion and intensity that it is long lasting

“Dreams are my specialty. Through dreams I influence mankind. My dream is of eternity with you. I offer you this rose, Princess. My heart…my soul…my love.”

4. Brian Bois-Guilbert and Rebecca of York from Ivanhoe.

Same old story, he is a man of God, she is a heretic in his eyes. He desires her, she hates him. It is an incredibly charged relationship, especially since Rebecca is so badass and hands Brian is ass so many times, and yet, there always seems to be something there. If only God did not stand in the way for them, they could have had something glorious.

“Rebecca, you must blame the fates that it was I who loved you, and not Ivanhoe - for you were always mine, and only mine - God keep you.”

3. John Jasper and Rosa Bud from the Mystery of Edwin Drood

He is her music teacher, desperately in love with her, but she is betrothed to his nephew. So what does he do? Kills him. It is a great story of one man’s desperate longing and love for a lovely girl, and the lengths he would take to have her.

“If you knew what visions tormented me. I have wandered through paradise and through hell, every night, carrying you in my arms.”

2. The Darkling and Alina from the Grisha Trilogy

They are two powerful beings that the world has difficulty understanding. He longs for her, because she is the only one who can accompany him in his loneliness, but she rejects him, calling him a monster. But that doesn’t stop her from seeing him, dreaming of him or speaking his name in hushed whispers like a woman to her lover.

“‘I’ve been waiting for you a long time, Alina,’ he said. ‘You and I are going to change the world.’”

Honorable Mentions:

Erik and Christine from the Phantom of the OperaZuko and Katara (still pissed off that they didn’t end up together)Major Surov and Diana Ashmore from The Journey 1959 (if you had always wanted to see Yul Brynner and Debra Kerr kiss, this is your movie)

Ok, number one is….

DUN DUN DUN!

1. Kylo Ren and Rey from Star Wars

They are pretty much what I most expect from a villainous crush, so I am going to go on a long explanation about them.

What always fascinated me about the villainous crush is what they represent. The villain is often the representation of darkness and the hero of light. They believe there is one line, on one side, the good guys, and the other the bad guys. The bad guys believe that the world is cruel so they should be cruel back, while the good guys believe that people are either born good and if they fall, they can never come back.

Most of the time, the villain is tortured, he is stuck in the darkness because it is all that he knows, but a part of him longs for something, whether he ever had it or not. When Kylo Ren meets Rey, he discovers that he is drawn to her because of the light within

“I feel it again, the pull to the light”

Not only is he fascinated by her light, he feels the power within her, it is familiar. Her power is just like his. At last, he has met someone that can understand him.

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.”

She is an enemy, but he believes that he could corrupt her enough to make her want him, but he is pulled too much to the goodness in her. What will he do? He can’t go back, he is the villain, villains never get a happy ending, and she will never join him. She thinks he is too much of a monster.

“You’re a monster!”“It’s just us now.”

Rey believes that there is no way he can come back from murdering his own father. To her, that is the worst kind of villain. She struggles against him, not only because he is continually seeks her out, but because there is something in him that she recognizes. She rejects him because he brings something out of her that scares her, her own darkness.

A villainous crush done right to me is when the hero and villain will take a step in the darkness or the light they feared to walk through, exploring sides of themselves they never could imagine they could feel. What the upcoming films, I am hopeful that they will explore not only the powerful dynamics of their relationship, but the idea of how the world must be made of a balance, and the villain and heroine must be the ones to provide that balance.

Thank you for the ask anon, and I hope that had answered your question

#villainous crush

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fumpkins · 7 years ago

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Big Oil touts offshore drilling jobs to communities most harmed by oil

Earlier this month, the American Petroleum Institute, the biggest U.S. trade organization for oil and gas, launched a bipartisan effort to reach out to diverse communities across the Southeastern U.S. The group touts offshore drilling jobs for African American and Latino workers.

“We want to build support in minority communities because the message that increasing the supply of affordable energy and good paying jobs will resonate,” API’s Erik Milito told Reuters.

While the oil and gas lobby is billing offshore drilling as an economic boon, environmental justice leaders caution that it’s pedaling dangerous work to the very communities that Big Oil has hurt the most.

“We used to call that economic extortion — in order to have a job you needed to be in a dirty job,” says Jose Bravo, the executive director of the Just Transition Alliance. Bravo, who organizes for clean jobs in California, says he’s seen decades of false promises by the fossil fuel industry.

Refineries located near neighborhoods of color often promise to hire locally, he says, but then bring on employees from out of town. And oil jobs can be risky.

“There’s a lot of potential damage both to the planet and to health,” Bravo says, citing the Deepwater Horizon explosion off the coast of Louisiana that killed 11 people in 2010. He also points out that the damage eventually makes its way back to land: “Historically, when we bring that oil onshore, we’re bringing it into communities of color.”

Last year, the NAACP published a report that found that over a million African Americans live within a half-mile of oil and natural gas production, processing, or transmission and storage facilities, leading to elevated risks of cancer and asthma attacks from toxic air emissions.

To be sure, many local business organizations have joined API’s effort, including the Florida Black Chamber of Commerce, the South Carolina African American Chamber of Commerce, along with Hispanic chambers of commerce from Florida, North Carolina, and Virginia, among others.

Another touchy subject has been the oil lobby’s outreach to Hurricane Maria survivors. Julio Fuentes, president of Florida’s Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, a partner in API’s initiative, defended the push to hire locals in an email to Livescience.Tech. “Florida has welcomed many of our friends from Puerto Rico, and it is important to provide secure, high-paying jobs for our residents and evacuees,” he said. “Offshore exploration is one way we can do so.”

Michelle Suarez with Organize Florida, a grassroots nonprofit group that has been assisting hurricane survivors, sees how Big Oil can make an appealing offer to an evacuee who has just lost so much. “We’re in this crisis. And so I imagine that it’s going to be tempting for families that are impacted to get some of those jobs,” Suarez says.

Suarez doesn’t think working in Big Oil, with its links to climate change and more frequent and severe superstorms, is the answer to helping evacuees recover. “We’re talking about the industry that has been one of the causes of these disasters, indirectly through their work,” says Suarez.

Both Suarez and Bravo say that their communities don’t need to choose between jobs and a healthy community and environment.

“We need to switch from that narrative because we do need to take care of the earth. This is our home. We have to make it work so that we have jobs that are not extracting and destroying the environment,” Suarez says.

Bravo believes the U.S. can can still be a global leader in spurring careers in renewable energy.

“We are all for jobs but we’re for jobs that don’t pollute, we’re for jobs that are clean, we’re for jobs that are sustainable,” Bravo says.

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New post published on: https://www.livescience.tech/2018/06/27/big-oil-touts-offshore-drilling-jobs-to-communities-most-harmed-by-oil/

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 6 years ago

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SE MCs background chapter 2: The Deal

This chapter was going to be Melody and Gabriel getting closer but it kinda became tOOO long, well to me it seemed to long, so I’ll post chapter 3 either today or tomorrow idk which one. I write bc I have no life XD.

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I woke up to sunshine in my eyes. The bed felt comfier than it usually does... I opened my eyes and realized I was in a bed that wasn’t my own. I started to panic, but then I remembered what happened yesterday. Right. Apparently magic is real and I can’t do anything in this world. That’s just great. I saw a little clock on the wall and it said, “9:30 AM,” so I knew it was time to get up.

I looked around for the key Erik had given me and I unlocked the door. As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, a glorious smell filled the air. Pancakes. I heard my stomach rumble just from thinking about pancakes right now. I walked to the kitchen and saw Erik cooking pancakes, just like I thought. I smiled and said, “good morning,” to him. He smiled and said good morning back. I sat down at the kitchen table and noticed three plates were at the table. Did he have someone else living here? I didn’t see anyone here last night. As soon as I thought that, the front door opened, and Gabriel had soon joined me at the kitchen table.

We both exchanged our greetings and then he looked at me with a serious face. I guess he was going to talk about our situation. I started to feel anxious. I didn’t trust Gabriel or Erik fully, so I didn’t know what they would do to me. However, I just breathed in deeply and gave him a serious look back. “I have a question for you,” he said, with his hand on his chin, in his thinking pose again. “As you always do,” I said with a little smile. He laughed at my response but then turned serious once more. “What do you want to do about this? I have two options for you,” he said. “On one hand, Erik can erase your memories and you will never remember this place. On the other, we can report you and let the government handle your situation,” he said with a distant look.

I didn’t know why but him mentioning their government kinda made me sick. I mean, our government in America was kiiinda messed up, so who knows what theirs would be like. Neither of them seemed to even know exactly what they would do with me. I breathed in and thought about it for awhile. “Awhile” meant a minute. Because after one minute, Erik came in and gave us all two pancakes.

Maybe after eating I would have a better sense of mind.

We finished eating and they both asked me the same question. However, Erik seemed to be kind of nervous about the first option. They’ve been asking the questions all along, now it’s my turn to ask questions. “What kind of a magician are you, Erik?” He smiled. “Well, I’m a memory magician, ma’am.” I nodded. I should’ve guessed that. “Wait, can all magicians erase memories?” Gabriel shook his head. “Only memory magicians can,” he said while not looking at me. I turned to Gabriel, ready to question again. “Well, what kind of magician are you?” Gabriel went tense and looked at my directly. His hands started to fidget.

He shook his head and gave me a smile so strained it looked like it hurt. “My power does not matter right now.” I started to worry for him. Why was it such a touchy subject? I wanted to know more, but I didn’t push. If it was his business, then it was his business. “So, do you have an answer?” Asked Gabriel, clearly trying to change the subject. I missed home, but I didn’t want to leave just yet. The world seemed so colorful and beautiful, and their magic seemed so interesting and I wanted to learn more about it. I knew I would never get another chance to come here with either option I choose, so, I thought up of a little deal. “I have a deal,” I told them. Both men’s attention was on me. “What if you let me stay for awhile,” I started.

Gabriel seemed to open his mouth to disagree, but I held up a finger, silently silencing him. “Just a little while. Let me learn about this world, and then, I’ll take option number one.” I looked towards Erik and nodded. “You can erase my memory.” Erik and Gabriel both seemed confused at my plan. It was kind of stupid since I wouldn’t remember anything. I wouldn’t remember them, but at least they would remember me. So, just in case I ever come back here, they would have good memories of me and help me remember. Hopefully, I would still be able to come back.

Gabriel and Erik looked at each other and shook their heads. “What would be the point? You wouldn’t remember us,” Erik pointed out to me, even though I already came to that conclusion myself. I shrugged. “Just in case I ever do come back here on accident and I see you again, you can help me remember everything we did together!” I seemed a bit too excited about this deal, but I couldn’t help it! Magic was real here. Life was different and I wanted to learn about it. I looked at both of them and tried to give the best puppy eyes I’ve ever managed to do. I mainly did them to Gabriel since he seemed to be the one in charge of this whole ordeal. Gabriel sighed and nodded. “Fine! But not too long,” he said. I laughed at my victory and so did Erik. “I’ll be back soon though. I have someone you need to meet if you’re gonna be here for awhile,” he said that as he began to get up and leave.

Me and Erik began to clean up breakfast and he started small talk. He asked me about my life and my past. I didn’t get to tell him anything interesting though. I was just a normal girl who was a bit of a loner. We got finished quickly, since it was only a few pans, and sat in the living room on the couch. “I have to give it to ya,” he started, “Gabriel has never caved in like that before.” I looked at him for a second and didn’t believe him. Maybe he was trying to flatter me and say that I was “special”. I let out a little “pfft” noise and replied, “That’s got to not be true.” He smiled and nodded a lot. “He’s as stubborn as stubborn gets, love. So, it isn’t easy to make him cave in. He’s been through a lot so he’s learned to be stubborn and say ‘no’ a lot.” He didn’t laugh that time.

It seemed like he knew a lot about Gabriels past. I wanted to ask but I’d rather hear it from Gabriel. “What am I supposed to do when you go to work?” I assumed he had a job since he had a nice house and I didn’t want to be stuck here. “Well, you’ll get a job with me. If that’s alright?” I nodded. I didn’t mind working. “Well, Gabriel’s sister’s gotta come over here first and deal with you, but then you’ll work at my cafe.”

As soon as he finished that sentence, Gabriel walked in with a woman following behind him. The woman was a bit tanner than Gabriel was, she had purple eyes as well but a bit lighter, and her hair was punch pink just like Gabriel’s was. I’m assuming that’s his sister. She looked over to me with a sweet smile on her face. “You must be Melody. My name is Natalie,” she said as she held out her hand to me. I like this girl already. I shook her hand and replied, “It’s nice to meet you, Natalie,” I said with a big smile. She then turned serious but still looked happy. “I need you to stand up in front of me and look into my eyes.” She looked very serious so I couldn’t deny it. I stood up, got arm distances from her, and looked her in the eyes. “Close your eyes,” she told me in a soft voice. I closed my eyes and let her do her magic.

Natalie put her index finger in front of Melody. It was in the middle of her face. She closed her own eyes and dragged that finger down the middle of her entire body. Light shined around Melody. She didn’t look different to the people in the room, but, to everyone else, she looked different. It was an illusion.

I opened my eyes as Natalie told me to do and she told me what she did. She said it was an illusion spell and that I would look different to everyone else. However, people that saw me without the illusion, will still see me as me, but people who have never seen me, will see the illusion. It was interesting to me and I asked what else could she do, and she sat me down and talked about it. She was still very vague about it since I was human, but it made me happy that she still at least tried to explain it to me. I kept glancing over to Gabriel and he seemed a bit antsy whenever his sister got too specific. It seemed like he didn’t want her to tell me anything, but if she noticed it, she didn’t seem to care. She looked very happy and I was too.

However, Natalie did have to leave and go home. We all said our goodbyes, but Gabriel stayed behind with me and Erik. “What do you plan on doing while you’re here?” He seemed a bit angry at me. I don’t know why though, I was only interested in magic, and learning about magic was a part of the deal and he AGREED. I huffed, a little bit angry like. Maybe because I was tired... “I plan on learning about magic and Erik said I could work where he works,” I said while pointing to Erik. Erik nodded. “I mean, she can’t be here all day. She’ll learn nothing. Why not work with me?” Gabriel then became a bit nervous, AGAIN. Hes always on and off like make up your mind! One second he’s worried for me, next he’s a little bit angry at me, then he doesn’t want me to learn magic even though it was apart of the deal! It’s making me frustrated.

“Okay, fine. But make sure she doesn’t get hurt and that no one starts bothering her,” he said to Erik with a stern look. Erik nodded understandingly. This made me a bit worried. We’re people here that bad? Did they hate humans? Maybe I shouldn’t have made my deal... No. This’ll be fun and I’ll be safe with them.

Gabriel eventually left and went home and Erik noticed my anxiousness. I always bit my nails when I was anxious and I guess Erik just assumed I was anxious. “It’ll be fine, I promise. Working as a waiter will be easy. Once you pass the training,” he said with a smile.

“The deal has been agreed to, Melody. So, try to enjoy your time here with us, and I’ll try to answer questions if you have any.” He told me that and I couldn’t think of any more questions, so we went to bed. I locked the door and I just stood there for a minute.

I was really doing this. It was really happening. Magic was real, I had two handsome men helping me, a very nice woman, and I would work somewhere and meet new people. It seemed like a dream come true. 7 year old me would be squealing right now. I know it won’t last and I will forget them eventually, but right now I’m enjoying it. And as I started to fall asleep, I prayed that maybe...I didn’t have to forget about my experiences here. And I also promised to myself that I would learn more about Gabriel. He seemed like he needed a friend, other than Erik and his sister, sometimes, and I was willing to be that friend. If he would let me in.

My eyes began to feel heavy and I fell asleep to the thoughts of tomorrow.

#se #sweet enchantments #SE MC #sweet enchantments MC #my writing

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knives-out21 · 5 years ago

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Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 12

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Internalized homophobia, Repressed homosexuality, Mentions of suicide (attempted), Angsty backstory,

Notes: I mention a piece of Karmel’s backstory that we’ve touched on before. A bit of a touchy subject, speaking of, so just an FYI. Hannibal references inside. Also I only have a limited amount of Karmel gifs (his faceclaim being Brad Pitt as Detective David Mills in the 1995 movie Se7en) so don’t be confused/surprised/etc if I happen to reuse gifs.

Karmel stood wearing a grey hoodie and matching sweatpants, which strayed far from his usual outdoor attire. Him and Charles stood outside the mansion, in front of a wall of the mansion with the least windows."What'd'ya need me to fuckin’ do, again?"

Charles sighed."You've gotten the hand of using your vines when they grow from out of your own body. I'd like to get you to practice having them grow from out the ground, is all. We can start off small, and work our way up somehow. I need you to grow your vines out the ground, and up this wall- careful to go around the windows."

"Like I'm drawing a line in a maze in some kids activity book?"

Charles paused. He shrugged, "strange comparison, but, yes, that's the gist. Unless you wish to make them form a picture of something. Easy enough?"

Karmel chuckled, "yea, I'll just shoot them up the wall, though."

"By all means, go ahead."

Karmel cleared his throat, slowly raising his hands, palms facing the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, never really being a fan of seeing his powers in action. Especially since twice in his life, they were -nearly- the death of him. Literally.

Charles exhaled, a look of concern on his face."Think I'll be able to teach you to face your vines in motion?"

"I'd like to s-see you try" Karmel stuttered.

"I understand what your powers almost caused twice...I'm sorry that your powers are integrated with these memories" Charles apologized, weeding his way through this pep-talk.

A quick glimpse through Karmel's mind at that moment brought him to the afterwards of Karmel's second attempt: Karmel in his twenties, crying in the back of his car with a blood-soaked patch on one side of his forehead. He was covered in marks and tiny scars that came from the thorns on his vines.

Charles saw tears forming in Karmel's eyes due to the flashback, like Erik earlier when he had a flashback of his mother."But, I do hope you know that you're stronger now, more than ever. Certainly more than you were in those dark moments of your life. You have me, the team, Moira...Erik-" he smiled when he noticed that saying Erik's name made Karmel sprout vines from out of the ground."So that's it." Charles thought, looking back over at Karmel. He now knew that Erik's powers would mostly spring from anger, and Karmel's would at the thought, mention, or sight of Erik. Why didn't he come to this conclusion earlier?

"I keep a lot of things in my head in fear of people like you- telepaths- existing and finding out. And...judging" Karmel started, wiping his eyes quickly.

"I'm not one to judge things that shouldn't be judged in the first place, Kar" Charles shrugged.

"My outburst at the base...over Erik," the vines latched onto the brick wall, slowly crawling upwards."Words can't describe how glad I am that Moira 'n' you didn't fire backlash at me, backlash I've lived in fear of my entire life. It just...I don't wanna talk about it right now."

"And you don't need to, Karmel. We can focus on this wall right now" Charles nodded, turning to the wall.

Karmel didn't look at his vines as they curled their ways up the brick wall, quick to dodge around any windows in their paths.

Charles' eyebrows knitted together as his head slowly panned up, noticing that the vines were making line art of...a face?

"Is it going up?"

"It's going up, alright" Charles answered, recognizing the shape of the jaw anywhere."What's something you like about Erik, then?" He pushed, most likely to test his theory from earlier about Karmel's powers when Erik's in mind.

Karmel exhaled through his nose."His eyes. Erik's eyes are like...two moons, I dunno. With blue-green pools in them- I don't know, man, they're beautiful, alright?" He kissed his teeth in slight frustration, not really that good at sappy stuff. But, his vines sped up, so that meant Charles was right.

"And what about his hair?" Charles suggested.

"Oh, his hair, fuck m-" Karmel opened a wide eye to glance at Charles, humming the 'm' he was so close to using to say 'me.'

Charles tilted his head, looking at Karmel as if he were saying "really, bitch? Seriously?"

Karmel continued humming the 'm', racking his brain for a way to save himself."-Mmman, I dunno, his hairs cool too-"

Charles rolled his eyes playfully, Karmel peacefully closing his eye.

Karmel grunted a bit, hands quivering as his vines looped around the wall, forming a jawline, a pair of thin lips, a perfect nose, and creases around a pair of eyes. His fingers bent a bit as the vines formed the archway of a hairline around a prominent forehead, the vines even spiking up in some places in the shape of hair. This was all unbeknownst to Karmel, that's the best part. He thought his vines were simply going straight up, and around the windows.

"It's reached the top."

"Finally-" Karmel panted, dropping his hands. He slowly looked up at the big brick wall, colour draining from his face when he could easily make out line art (or in this case, vine art) of Erik Lehnsherr's face. Karmel's head snapped in Charles' direction as his blue eyes went huge.

Charles chuckled simply."If you wanted to do someone instead of something, you could have just said so."

"No, no, no, it was an accident- I didn't- I wasn't- I wasn't even thinking of him, I- I just wanted the fucking vines to grow" Karmel stuttered, frantically waving his arms.

"Karmel, Karmel-" Charles called, putting a hand on Karmel's shoulder."It's okay."

Karmel slowly dropped his hands, raising an eyebrow. His vine art of Erik grew purple flowers, which bloomed quickly. Karmel's breath hitched at that.

"It's okay now, remember? I know, you know, we both know here. And I'm a hundred percent okay with what I know. As of our quick trip to Russia, so are you. It's okay, you're safe here. You can be who you truly are."

Karmel took slow, deep breaths, nodding."Yea, I- I just...I guess I'm gonna forget sometimes, that it's okay. But it's hard to forget that on a scale of one to ten, he's a certified twenty. I'm...I love Erik, man."

"Which is okay" Charles cracked a comforting smile."I'll be around to remind you. It's a slow process."

Karmel looked up at Erik’s face on the wall.”I have to deal with you,” he groaned, pointing up at it.”And my feelings about you.”

Charles looked up at the vines.”You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.”

Karmel turned to Charles. He donned a look of inner fear, as if he were still slightly afraid of his love for Erik. In reality, Karmel was just unsure of how long it would take him to get used to it.

Charles pat Karmel’s shoulder.”No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love, we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloveds potential comes true” he explained.

"Hey, you two!" Erik's voice rang from a way's behind the two of them.

"Fuck-" Karmel swore, and gestured his hands downwards. The vines shot back down into the ground, a couple purple flower petals and a singular flower itself hanging around.

The wall was blank again.

"Hi, Erik!" Karmel nervously greeted. He wondered why Erik smiled like that the moment he saw him.

"I saw that-" Charles grinned as he waved.

"Shut it, Charlie Chaplin" Karmel spoke through grit teeth as he checked out Erik wearing clothes identical to his."Goddamn..." he thought, biting the edge of his lip.

Erik put his hands on his hips, looking up at the wall like it was missing something."What happened to the green lines on the wall?"

Karmel almost choked on his own spit."My, uh, my vines. Charlie Chaplin here wants me to practice making my vines grow out from places that aren't my body. And- And wants me to practice making them move certain ways, up walls 'n' shit, so that I can control them better. They didn't go up the way I wanted-"

"I'd say otherwise-"

"Shut up, Charles. Anyways, they- they didn't go up the way I wanted, so I'm trying again" Karmel explained.

"Those flowers weren't there before" Erik pointed out, literally pointing down at them.

"Oh, yea, I can grow flowers from my vines. Not just leaves, or thorns. They could also have this weird poison effect. Ivy, too. Poison ivy, even. That's a thing" Karmel recalled, his whole body going rigid at what Erik then asked.

"Can I watch?"

"Uhm-"

"Sure!" Charles answered for him.

Karmel shot Charles a glare, slowly turning around to face the wall again. He raised his arms, forcing himself to pay close attention to the way his vines curved up the wall.

"Also, uh, Karmel" Erik called.

"Yep?"

"I'm sorry about what I said to Charles and you the day we arrived here. I remembered what you've told me about your parents, but it didn't dwell on me on how deep it really went, no matter how long ago it was. So...my apologies" Erik apologized.

"Shit-" Karmel cursed under his breath, Erik taking accountability of his actions only making Karmel fall in love with him even more. He moved his hands to the sides, vines smoothly darting out of the way of a window."It's fine, Erik. I don't bare any ill will towards you 'cause of it. Joking like I did was just...an automatic response."

"A coping mechanism?" Charles suggested.

"What are you, my therapist?" Karmel scoffed, getting slightly defensive."Yea, that, whatever" he agreed. Karmel watched his vines lurch this way and that way, recognizing what was now his own face, made up of vine-line-art. Once he finished, he eagerly dropped his arms."I felt like I'd look good up here."

"You thought otherwise just a moment ago-" Charles snickered.

"Shut up, Charlie" Karmel groaned. He waved an arm at the wall, purple flowers blooming on the vines that etched his face around the wall. Karmel turned back around to Erik, who grinned slightly.

"Impressive as always" Erik coughed.

"Beware, it goeth before the fall. How many times I gotta tell you guys?" Karmel joked, Erik and him gigging softly.

Charles arched a brow, looking between Karmel and Erik."I gotta go find Raven. I'll see you two inside later" he bade them goodbye, jogging off and around the corner, disappearing from sight.

Karmel and Erik kept, somehow comfortable, eye contact, Karmel cracking a small smile as he looked down, then turned away.

"So, uh, Karmel" Erik piped up.

"Hmm?" Karmel hummed, walking towards the wall. He knelt down, picking up a whole, purple flower.

"I have something."

Karmel stood back up, and walked back over to Erik."You have something? What? A flu?"

Erik shook his head."No, no, like...physically. I picked it up for you- don't ask when- and I thought you'd like it."

Karmel’s smile broke out into a bigger one.”No one’s ever done that for me...not even Grace. That’s real nice of you” he cooed.

Erik pulled his lips into a sheepish smile.”Don’t think too much of it, though. A simple gesture can only go so far sometimes” he told, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet. It was made out of braided, brown leather, and bore a silver, metal clasp. Erik held it up, holding back a smile when Karmel cautiously took it.

”It’s so cool” Karmel gasped, gently putting it on his left wrist.”Thank you, Erik- I feel bad, I don’t have shit for you-“

Erik held up a hand.”Nonsense, Karmel. I don’t need anything in return.”

Karmel’s smile was glued to his lips, as he remade eye contact with Erik.

Erik rubbed the back of his neck, a faint smile of his own on his face, thanks to Karmel.

“Y’know, actually-“ Karmel looked down at the flower in his hand.”I do have something.”

Erik followed his gaze.”The flower?”

Karmel hummed.”A flower from my own vines, Erik. That’s super fucking personal” he said, reaching up to tuck it behind Erik’s ear.

Erik exhaled through his nose, glancing up at it.”How do I look?”

”Breathtaking, man” Karmel giggled, definitely in love at this point. Not even that ‘in love’ love with Erik’s body; Karmel was in love with Erik as a person, the whole idea of him sparked joy. At first he thought it was merely physical. But the more time they spent around each other, the deeper it grew. Now Karmel just wishes he could act on his feelings.

Erik glanced down, stricken by a sense of shyness.

“See, Erik-” Karmel started, pointing at the bracelet.”There’s so much more to you than you know, Erik. Not just pain and anger, like me. There’s good in you, Erik, I can feel it. I know it. I’ve fucking seen it, now.”

Erik looked up at him, surprised at what was said. Did Karmel really think that of him?

The two held eye contact again, standing in comfortable silence.

Karmel was the first to break his gaze, quick to sneak a glance at Erik's lips beforehand.”I should, uh- get going, though. Hank wanted to show me the library in this place.”

”Yea” Erik nodded, doing the same before looking down.”You’re a librarian after all.”

”Best one in the country” Karmel puffed out his chest, making Erik laugh. He sighed softly, privileged enough to earn a look of genuine happiness and innocence from the man. It felt rare. It felt good. It made Karmel feel like he was on top of the world.”C’mon, let- let’s, uh, let’s go back inside.”

Erik nodded, leading the way.

Karmel watched Erik walk, and groaned softly to himself. He threw the hood of his hoodie over his head and violently pulled on the strings, cocooning his face in the hood.”Stupid fuckin’ faggot fuck” Karmel cursed himself, his feelings for Erik only growing stronger by the second.

#X-men #X-men OC #xmen #xmen oc #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr x male #erik lehnsherr x male!oc #male oc #oc #male x male #male x canon #male x oc #canon x male #canon x oc #oc x canon #oc x male #brad pitt oc

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flauntpage · 7 years ago

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DGB Grab Bag: Chicago Hopeless, Stone-Faced Karlsson, and Math—How Does it Work?

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: The curling faceoff – This was a pretty funny way to open this week's outdoor game.

Slightly less funny: A few hours later when the curlers got drunk and threw the rock into the power generator.

The second star: Erik Karlsson and Eugene Melnyk – I'm no body language expert, but I'm not getting a real big "Can't wait to sign a long-term extension" vibe here.

By the way, this was literally front-page news in Ottawa. Good times up here.

The first star: Nazem Kadri vs. Rasmus Ristolainen – Not their fight from Monday's game; that wasn't all that good. But their post-scrap debate on the subject of conceptual mathematics was fantastic.

Kadri's right, by the way. I guess we can add "counting" to the list of things the Leafs are better than the Sabres at, right next to "draft lotteries."

Outrage of the Week

The issue: The NHLPA released the results of an extensive poll of over 500 players, who were asked to weigh in on various questions about life in the league. The outrage: Wow, did you see the results? They were stunningly, jaw-droppingly… boring. Is it justified: To be clear, it's cool that the NHLPA does this stuff. Some information is better than no information. But with most of this poll, it was only slightly better. We learned things like "Connor McDavid is fast" and "Sidney Crosby is good." (We also learned that Carey Price is the league's best goalie, so apparently many of the surveys were returned by mail that took three years to arrive.)

Some of the results were mildly surprising—Wes McCauley ran away with best referee honors, and the players still seem to love Shea Weber and Jonathan Toews. We also found out that players apparently have no idea how bar graphs work. But that was about it.

Some eyebrows were raised over the revelation that 77 percent of players support the current points system, but that's no shock at all—just like their GMs, of course players are going to like free bonus points. The coach can't bag skate you too hard for a three-game losing streak if you still picked up a few points, right? If anything, the story here is that even a league where banking points is everything, 23 percent of players have still realized that the current system is awful.

Maybe the most depressing section of the poll comes at the end, when players are asked to name the best ever at various positions, because it ends up serving as a reminder of how damn young today's players are. The forwards are all from the 80s and beyond, with no love for Gordie Howe or Rocket Richard or Jean Beliveau. They get the best defenseman right, with Bobby Orr taking top spot, but he only gets 61 percent of the vote, with Nicklas Lidstrom finishing a relatively close second at 29 percent, no mention of Doug Harvey, and Scott Niedermayer(!) finishing fifth. And the goalies skip over Terry Sawchuk, Glenn Hall, and Jacques Plante, but find a spot for Price in the top five. Seriously, when were all you guys born, in the 90s? (Thinks for a second.) Yeah, don't answer that.

At the end of the day, it's a fun little poll that clearly isn't trying to ruffle any feathers—the only question with a negative focus is about bad ice. That's understandable, but man it feels like a missed opportunity. Don't you want to see these guys rate the league's worst coaches, referees and GMs? Can't we ask them which owner they'd least like to play for, or which city has the ugliest fans? While we're at it, let's get them to rate Gary Bettman's job performance on a scale of 1 to 10, or explain where they plan to spend the 2020 lockout. Maybe even include an essay portion where they have to explain goaltender interference.

It was a good effort, NHLPA, but you can do better. Next time, give us the director's cut.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

The Blackhawks are finally bad again, and they're going to miss the playoffs for the first time in a decade. It goes without saying that fans around the league are heartbroken, and we wish to offer our love and support to Hawks fans during these difficult times.

But if it helps at all, it's worth remembering that there have been far worse Blackhawks teams than this year's mess. And sometimes, being pathetic enough to warrant a little bit of pity can pay off. So this week, let's devote our obscure player section to the story of Ed Litzenberger.

Litzenberger was a big winger who had the misfortune of trying to break in with the Montreal Canadiens in the 1950s. That team was pretty stacked, making it to the final for ten straight years, and Litzenberger only managed to crack the lineup for a total of five games across two seasons. He finally earned a regular spot in 1954, and was reasonably productive, managing 11 points in the season's first 29 games. But that's where those terrible Hawks come in. By the mid-50s, Chicago had made a habit of finishing dead last, and the franchise was at serious risk of going under. So in a rare burst of charity, the other teams decided to offer up just enough help to keep their competition alive.

That help included Litzenberger, who was traded to Chicago for cash midway through the 1954-55 season. Well, "traded" might be pushing it; some sources use the word "donated." Either way, the deal was his chance to take on a top line role, and he made the most of it by racking up 40 points in the season's final 44 games. That was enough to earn him Calder honors as rookie of the year, the only time in the award's history that a player has won it while splitting his season between two NHL teams.

For the rest of the decade, Litzenberger starred in Chicago, earning second-team All-Star honors in 1957. He was a big part of the franchise's rebuild into contenders, eventually helping them win a Stanley Cup in 1961. He was traded to Detroit that summer, and then quickly made his way to Toronto where he'd win three more Cups. The 1964 championship was his last NHL action, but he'd head to the AHL and win two more titles, making him by some accounts the only North American pro hockey player to win a championship in six straight seasons.

So let Ed Litzenberger be a lesson to GMs everywhere. If over the next few weeks Stan Bowman comes up to you making puppy dog eyes and mumbling about how tough it is in Chicago these days, do not give him one of your best prospects just to be nice.

Be It Resolved

Seattle is getting an NHL team.

That's not really breaking news at this point. If any of us somehow hadn't clued into that development over the last few years of watching the league make eyes at the market, their recent ticket drive seals the deal. The ownership group collected 10,000 deposits in the first few minutes and over 25,000 in the first day.

So yeah, while nothing will be official for a while, it's basically a done deal. Seattle is getting a team, probably for the 2020-21 season. People are already doing mock expansion drafts. This is happening. And it's good news for everyone.

Well, almost everyone. And then there's Quebec City.

They'd been holding out hope that they'd be an expansion candidate. They have an arena ready to go, and plenty of NHL history. They'd hoped to bring back the Nordiques, just like Winnipeg brought back the Jets a few years ago.

But now it probably can't happen. Seattle gives the NHL an even 32 teams, which finally brings us back to the days of two equal conferences and four equal divisions. While it wouldn't be unheard of for the NHL to beat a good thing into the ground, it certainly feels like this will be the last round of expansion for at least a little while. And that means Quebec City is out of luck, at least when it comes to expansion.

Of course, that's not the only way to get a team, and that's where things get a little touchy. Quebec has long been one of the top targets for every rumor about an NHL team relocating. That quieted down slightly during the expansion process, since there was a more obvious path back to the NHL available. But now that that door has slammed shut, we can expect to start hearing whispers about some team or other making eyes at Quebec City.

So today, be it resolved that when the "Struggling team is moving to Quebec" rumor mill starts firing on all cylinders again, we can all be cool about it. No, it's never fun to see some other city salivating over your team. No, that team probably won't move, because to his credit, Gary Bettman makes it very hard to relocate a franchise. Yes, all that Quebec talk is probably wishful thinking, and maybe even a publicity plot to squeeze more arena upgrade out of your town.

It's annoying. But it's not the fault of fans in Quebec. They just saw their best chance at a team fade away, so they're going to start looking toward Plan B. They know how much relocation sucks—they went through it themselves, and with a team that immediately turned around and won the Cup to boot. But right now it's their only shot. You can't blame them for taking it.

We all know how the game is played. So let's handle it without having a meltdown. That means you, Florida, Arizona, and Carolina. You, too, if the arena thing falls through, Islanders. And hell, maybe even you, Ottawa and Calgary, at least as long as your owners are allowed to talk. Defend your turf, sure. But save the faux outrage that someone else is trying to lure your team away. It's a long shot, but it's all they have. And you'd do the same if the roles were reversed.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

There's been a minor controversy up here in Canada this week involving the Vancouver Canucks. Basically, the organization seems to have decided that the market is too negative, and not everyone disagrees. That's spiraled into a bigger discussion over how a fan base should treat a team that continually finishes last, and whether fans deserve some share of the blame when the team they root for can't get it together.

That's all well and good, but let's take a moment here to defend Canucks fans. Are they negative? Sure. But you would be too if your team was underperforming. And it's a few bad apples spoiling the bunch—it's not like everyone who likes the Canucks is some sort of toxic jerk.

So today, let's hit up YouTube and randomly search for somebody being positive about the Canucks. I bet if we got back to the franchise's better days like, say, 1994, we can find a perfectly wonderful person who's willing to say nice thing about them. Hey, here's a clip now!

Oh.

So, this clip is from an intermission during Game 2 of the 1994 Stanley Cup final. The Canucks are facing the Rangers, and New York came in heavily favored. But Vancouver pulled off the upset in Game 1, earning a 3-2 overtime victory in which goaltender Kirk McLean made 52 saves, and they're giving the Rangers all they can handle in the second game.

In one of those wacky "man-on-the-street" segments, a Vancouver reporter has apparently found a few diehard Ranger fans to interview about the series. We never do catch the guy's name, but he's apparently a local real estate developer. That's a good business to be in. Here's hoping he sticks with it, rather than doing anything else ever.

"You've got some team, and you've got some goalie, I can tell you." See? This guy knows his stuff. The Canucks did indeed have a goalie that year.

Our reporter starts to ask them if they're surprised about something, then suddenly does this really weird pause where he seems to get distracted. I can't be sure, but I think it might have something to do with the time traveler from the future who appears just off camera holding a sign that says "RUN."

He finally stumbles through a question about whether the Rangers should be kicking more butt, in which case this nice man's wife gives a very smooth answer about how any team that makes the final will be a good one. Very diplomatic! She should go into politics.

(I’m kidding, of course. Only politicians should ever be involved with politics.)

Next we get a somewhat weird question about the difference between New Yorkers and Ranger fans. Our nice real estate man ignores the question completely, and instead mentions the Rangers' 54-year Cup drought and that "they've met somebody who's doing an incredible job in goal, as you know about."

He, uh, has no idea what Kirk McLean's name is, does he?

"He's there taking a lot of shots. Many more shots." Nope, no idea at all. But he's right about all those shots. McLean was playing like a wall in this series. Like a real actual wall, not one you just make up. I'm not sure why I felt the need to clarify that.

We close with the nice man's wife, who jokes about hockey not being all that big down south and then suggests that maybe Atlanta should get a team again. Ha ha, whoops! I guess this couple has some bad ideas.

Epilogue: The Rangers ended up winning this game and the next two after it to take a 3-1 series lead. The Canucks fought back to even the series before losing a heart-breaking seventh game in which Sergei Zubov and Alex Kovalev combined for three points, because sometimes the Russians help one side win. In hockey. Again, not sure why I felt the need to clarify that.

Anyway, here's hoping this fine couple, who are no doubt still happily married to this day, enjoyed the Rangers' win. They seem like real hockey fans. Maybe someday they'll even get to personally meet some Stanley Cup champions, and everyone will be happy.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected].

DGB Grab Bag: Chicago Hopeless, Stone-Faced Karlsson, and Math—How Does it Work? published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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