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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 24, 2019 0:32:24 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Feeling her lips over his body was an incredible sensation. One he hadn't even realized he'd missed to this extent . . . until she kissed him now. A reminder of a week ago, but everything about tonight felt different. Everything felt heightened. Pushing his pants down and stepping out of them, he hungrily met her lips, his hands moving to the bottom of her shirt to pull it off, breaking the contact for only a brief moment until he rectified it and eagerly closed the distance once more.
Tossing the shirt to the side, his hands roamed over her sides, taking in the familiar but highly missed form of her body. He was not even thinking of the trail of clothing, having been once meticulous about things. Such habits had died along with his spirit when he returned a year ago. But as he was regaining himself, he could only hope to be the man that she and Nina recognized. These deeper thoughts however, were not foremost in his mind. In fact, he wasn't really thinking at all. Heavily exhaling with a groan mixed in, when she wrapped her hand around his length, he pressed his lips against her cheek.
He truly could not get enough of her tonight. It was as it once was . . . the impossibility to keep their hands off of each other. The honeymoon phase of their relationship. It all came back now, and Erik planned to well satisfy the need that consumed them both. But first, he would return the favour, slipping his hand between her legs to touch her, to see how ready she was for him, to offer her a touch of pleasure as she did him. His lips moved to her ear, pressing against them as he spoke. "You feel so good." Slick with her own building desire, feeling it for the first time in far too long.
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Magneto
"We are the future."
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 24, 2019 0:04:05 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Erik reached for the shirt that she was about to offer but when she set it to the side instead, he let out a small breath, knowing what that meant. He knew her well enough. And to add further certainty, she pushed back on his shoulders to encourage him to rest. He had to admit, it felt easier to lay down than sit up right now.
But easy was never the route he took. Still. He knew better than to argue with her -- which wasn't exactly something he enjoyed doing either. "I can't stay here," he told her. It wasn't even because of her necessarily, but her husband. Briefly meeting her for a quick conversation was far different than her keeping him here in hiding. "It's too risky," he added, his words making it clear that it was not the risk to himself that he was concerned about . . . but rather, the risk to her.
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Magneto
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 23:47:50 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION She spoke of the view and he understood that, because he certainly appreciated the view she had to offer. Especially as she pulled his shirt over her. There was something very . . . sensual about the sight of her in an oversized shirt, especially his. And while it was not a rare sight, it had been for the past while. So he quite enjoyed it. But not enough to stall them from their destination. She nearly tripped from the table, his hands instinctively reaching out to catch her, though she managed to catch herself.
The awareness of the shifted table lingered in the air, and while they both perhaps knew how it happened . . . neither of them spoke it. That was a grander conversation that he didn't want to have right now. And fortunately, her actions very easily distracted them from it. As she pulled him towards the door, Erik breathed into the kiss, coaxing her mouth open with his own. His hands reached to push the door open, wanting to -- needing to -- get to their room so that they could continue on with this wonderful night. He began to step forward, prompting her to step back as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands moving over her while his lips didn't once break contact from her own. One hand slipped under the shirt, skimming over the cheeks of her ass as desire began to rebuild within him. Having had rather . . . virile nights, and being void of that for so long, had him longing to make up for the lost time.
Especially after what he'd discovered tonight. Making his way up the stairs with her, the lingering kiss continuing, his hands still wandering under her shirt, he opened his eyes once they reached the top, only to see if Nina was awake and in the hall way. When he saw no sight of her, he closed his eyes again, turning so that he pulled her into their room, closing the door behind them by pushing her body against it. Despite his attempt, the door did not close on its own but he did not let that ruin the moment. His body pressed against Magda's as her back was pressed against the door and now in the privacy of their bedroom, there was no need for any more restraint. His hands were already working on his pants to undo them, eager to continue on with this wonderful night.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 20:37:50 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION He felt relieved that she wasn't questioning it right now. She would, undoubtedly, but with all they had been through in the past year . . . this was what they needed right now. Being able to reconnect in a way that had been stifled and hindered so many times before. Hearing that she would follow him anywhere . . . meant more to him than he could truly express. Though, he wanted her to know something. "Don't follow me," he breathed between each kiss, each embrace. "Walk with me." Because he knew, he was no leader. He'd not been worth following anywhere this past little while.
Acknowledging that it was her strength that kept them together. That kept their family together. She'd endured his burdens and the absence of a father in Nina's life. Words though seemingly simple, held a weight to all such recognition. And tonight, he could express that gratitude, love, appreciation . . . and everything else, in a very physical way. As he felt her reach for his shirt, his lips captured hers once more, teasing her bottom lip between his own. His own hand sought out his pants, feeling them just a couple of inches out of reach, until they suddenly filled his hand. The action just spurred him on, deepening the kiss before breaking the contact of their lips, hurriedly pulling on his pants before extending his hand to help her from the couch.
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Magneto
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 20:04:55 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Silence filled the room as they both basked and processed. Though words were unspoken, he knew Magda was thinking of what was happening. The last time she had questioned it, he'd dismissively said it was an earthquake, rational and logic replaced by fear. Fear, of not wanting to dare hope. But now, he knew. He could feel it. He was all too aware of it. Any coincidence or uncertainty replaced with . . . relief. Though he did not know the extent of his powers returning, he was at least willing to accept they were starting to. It was certainly a long way to where they were merely a week or so ago. Including, the last time they lay together like this. Unknowing if he would stay the night.
But right now . . . he was more than staying with her. She had brought it out in him, the joy, the pleasure, the . . . serenity. Where it was once pain that drew out his powers, now it seemed to be pleasure and happiness. For being with her in this way, was the only time he had been so unguarded having released his emotions. The aftermath of it, shocking but not undesired. Opening his eyes to look at her, the smile remained on his lips as her hands moved over his bare back. He leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth, along her jawline and cheek, his hand trailing up and down the soft skin of her thigh. He didn't want to forget this moment, nor any that would come after. "Let's go to bed," he practically breathed against her in between each kiss. Clear indication, that he was staying with her tonight, and the hint of suggestion that he wanted her again.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 19:40:44 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Feeling her tightened grip had Erik remaining in place. All he could do now was hold her, allow his arms to remain wrapped around her and judging from her own body language . . . perhaps that was what she needed in this moment. She spoke of not knowing how to escape him. There was only one person that came to mind. He didn't know the deeper details but he knew enough. Enough to be aware of how the man still effected her. How he still haunted her. He hated that she had to endure that; he hated it even before he knew she was his daughter. But now, he despised it even more. He couldn't help but think how different things could have been had he known he had a daughter. A daughter who was so . . . unwanted by her parents. A daughter he surely would have cherished.
Fatherhood had changed his life completely, and among all else, he hated the fact that Lorna did not know what it was to be in a loving family. That she did not know her worth from her parents. "He is part of your past," Erik began to say, still holding her, speaking in a low, soft voice. His words implying that her strength was drawn by the pain one had suffered. Just like him. "But he is not your present, or your future." He was not here, nor would be. He couldn't hurt her anymore, though Magneto knew full well that the damage had been done already. They both came from a similar past end in the sense that they faced an abuser. The difference was, Erik had confronted his and he wondered if Lorna wished to do the same.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 17:28:05 GMT
 Tag: Mystique Note: Better layout coming soon! Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION It had been a long time since Erik had woken up like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Dare he say, happy. Happier than he had been in some time. A combination of things from having brought Shaw to justice, to discovering there were others like him . . . but more majorly, the woman who he woke up next to. That feeling of being with someone, not just physically, but the emotional connection. It was one he had not had in a long while. One that continued to strengthen with the experiences they shared and the time that passed in each others company. And nights where they could truly enjoy the . . . pleasures that came along with such a relationship.
The fact that it was known knowledge among the others, prevented them from having to sneak around, though Magneto truly had nothing to hide. Not that he would advertise it either. But he went along with what Mystique was more comfortable with. What she desired most. And right now, he could tell from her comfortable position, that it was to rest a little longer. Which was precisely why he had offered to make breakfast. She thanked him and he couldn't help but smile, moving his arms from where they were wrapped around her. He immediately missed the warmth of her body, the feeling of holding her. But, never the less he forced himself to get up, pulling on pants and a shirt considering there were others that resided in the estate. As Magneto thought earlier, while they knew . . . he wasn't about to advertise the kind of night they had. As wonderful as it was.
He leaned over her, lips pressing against her cheek in a light kiss. "I'll be back shortly," he assured her. With that, he made his way to kitchen, starting to assemble what he needed to make eggs, toast, and even decided to throw pancakes into the mix. Fortunately, he didn't have to use his hands the entire time. He simply leaned against the counter, watching the spatula flip the eggs on its own, the coffee pot fill itself, the whisk stir the contents inside of it. Until everything was prepared. He made a plate for her along with a cup of coffee, recalling just how she liked it.
Preparing it all on a tray -- as presentation was everything -- he made his way back up the stairs, the tray floating int he air behind him. Waving the door open and doing the same to close it behind him, he allowed the tray to rest gently down on the bed in the space where he had been sleeping next to her. "Breakfast is served," he told her. If there was one thing he missed about having a partner, it was getting to spoil them. Treat them. Do these little things that he hoped would make one smile. And Mystique, was one who was truly claiming his heart after he'd been so void of these emotions for years.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 17:08:19 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Safe. That was exactly what he needed to hear. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, one that continued to spread as Magda went on to explain that Selene brought him here and went to get the others. It was the best course of action, and why he trusted the telepath emphatically. He took the glass of water, thanking her as he took a couple of sips.
"I'm fine," he told her upon her offer of tea, trying to sit up a bit more though he could not yet bring his feet over to the edge of the bed. He had no intention of staying here longer than need be. Though her words continued to play in his mind. Knowing it, assuming it, longing for it . . . and hearing it, were all very different things. Letting his mind process that and the current circumstance of his injury and the others, he continued to drink more of the water until there was none left.
"Can I please have my shirt?" Another step to getting ready and leaving before there was any suspicion from her husband that he was here. He didn't know their marital situation, and knew Magda enough to know she would not have brought him here if there was a risk of discovery . . . but still. He never wanted to jeapordize her position by overstaying. "Unless there's nothing left of it?" He both asked and stated, in an almost joke and attempt to lighten the somewhat awkward air between them.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 17:01:13 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION The moment her arms wrapped around him, he knew his should instinctively do the same. That they should wrap around his wife. Hold her. Comfort her while deriving comfort from her. He could feel the tears against him, ones of relief and well, he too was relieved that she was ok. That she was alive. That no harm had come to her. But, his own hands were slow to raise themselves.
Just barley brushing against her as he slightly raised them to carefully place on her back. A pathetic attempt to return a hand, but what good were his hands now anyway? She was so relieved to see him, the emotion clear in her actions and voice . . . yet, his state of return was hardly any cause to rejoice. When she drew back enough to look at his face, he -- like a coward -- could not make eye contact with her. Instead, his gaze fell lower, looking more past her than at her. "Where's Nina?" He had to know that she too was ok. That she was with her mother and that no one had tried to harm her . . . especially since she too was a mutant. Because right now, Erik didn't the ability to protect either of them. Not anymore.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 16:54:41 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION The renewed zeal had him moving with deep thrusts inside of her. Gone was the hesitation. The uncertainty. And left only, was the passion; the relief of finally being able to express through actions the love he held for his wife. The relief of finally being adequate to fulfil the role of a husband. After so many months of failing . . . finally, he felt as if he had returned. One simple inexplicable action, gave his entire being meaning again. With the path he had been on, he'd supposed he could have found that with his family . . . but being so, elated right now . . . he didn't want to squander even a second of it. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily against her skin as his hips thrust forward, building speed and momentum.
He could feel it around him, without having to see it. The same clattering of metal. The ever so slight shaking of the couch from the bottom part of the legs. Kissing along her face his lips reached hers once more, pressing into them in a burst of passion as it only took a few more thrusts until he came within her, meeting her own climax which had the frames fall to the ground or on the table, the coffee table slide to the side, the same objects that contained metal which had shook before, now doing so again.
It wasn't a fluke. It wasn't coincidence. It wasn't an earthquake. His lips curved into a smile as his chest heaved, working to catch his breath. A feeling of exhilaration he had not felt in a while. The closest he had felt it . . . was when he'd last made love to her. He wasn't even sure what to say in this moment. He just basked in the aftermath of that peak of euphoria . . . heightened in the realization that what was once lost, had been regained. Not just his powers, but himself.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 2:30:06 GMT
Day 22
2,259 words
TOTAL: 34,139
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 1:54:48 GMT
Tag: @peter Note: Better layout coming soon! Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Erik wondered if it was a good thing that she hadn't gone into the details of it. It hadn't exactly been an amicable parting of ways, but he also recognized that he was in a very different state of mind at the time. Obsessed with finding Shaw and avenging his mother. It had certainly set him on a dangerous path and there had not been much room for partners in it. With the exception of perhaps one. "I was, on a very different path at the time." He wanted to spare Peter the darker details for it would bring up his past in the camps. A past that seldom few knew about.
Watching Peter as he became emotion had Erik pause where he stood. He knew what it was to be a father, and perhaps seeing who was now revealed as his son emotional and upset, tapped into his paternal instinct that he thought long since numbed . . . until it was discovered about Lorna. And now, he had a son. Though he knew he had not yet honoured the name of father. It was currently just a title, but he had to fulfill the role, didn't he? Was it something that Peter even wanted? Natural instinct took over and as Erik was a man of action fuelled by emotions, this was no exception.
He took the few steps over to Peter, reaching out and gently touching him on the back; a gesture meant to comfort. "You don't need to apologize," he assured him in a soft voice. There was a great deal Erik had done that one could fault him with, but knowingly being a failure of a father was not one he wished to add to the list. They had yet to explore the dynamic of this familial relation but right now . . . he just felt as if Peter needed that comfort, of both actions and verbal assurance that he did not have to be sorry.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 1:37:36 GMT
Tag: @scarlet Note: Better layout coming soon! Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Francis Swan. Yes. The name certainly rang a bell. While it had been many years ago, he it struck enough familiarity that whatever insensitivity she accused him of . . . he could at least say he remembered the name of the woman. Not that he would lie if he didn't. Nothing was ever resolved through lies. When she added that he had walked out on her, Erik felt as if it was Francis' words that seemed to give her this perception of what had happened. Truth was, he hadn't had an incredibly deep relationship with the women. There were few that he actually had developed as much with. "I know the name," he told her. "But what relevance does our history have?" He wasn't exactly used to being, called out for the women he had physical relations with in the past. A fortunate thing. For that list wasn't exactly counted on one hand.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 1:32:30 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION While it wasn't common, there were times where the Brotherhood had to divide their faction. Their visits to the city weren't exactly overly frequent, so when there was more than one task at hand, they had to split their forces. Magneto hated doing it, but it was only done when absolutely necessary. In this case, a few of the mutants had been sent to an anti mutant rally, to make sure no one would be harmed in the rioting. There were humans who held strong feelings against mutants, and it was those mutants who tended to fall victim to their attacks and hatred.
Meanwhile, Magneto had gotten word of a few mutants in hiding that needed a safe place. He was heading towards them with Selene and a few others while Lorna and the rest were securing the riot . . . with explicit instructions to not make a spectacle of things. He did after all have a 'deal' with the government, and Magneto preferred not to use any force until absolutely necessary. Mainly, when lives were at stake. But when he got word that that was exactly what had happened, fear took him over. Fear, over losing the others. Over losing his daughter -- which was still a concept he was adjusting to. As he was in a completely different state, he only had one option. Pulling out his phone, he quickly resorted to texting. He wasn't exactly big on phone use unless it was an emergency and well, this certainly constitutes as an emergency. Is everyone ok? The first and most important question.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 23, 2019 1:25:16 GMT
Peace WAS NEVER AN OPTION Magneto felt that tug, pulling him back to consciousness. He could hear and feel before he opened his eyes to reveal as much and . . . perhaps he should have done so sooner. Or perhaps he was meant to hear her words. Either way, it was not easy to hear. While deep down, he had always known it . . . just in the same way he always loved her, hearing it, was entirely different. Hearing it, when he was not meant to. Their interactions had been fairly casual recently. She would give him information to help protect mutants while being married to a man to tried to violate their rights. He could only imagine the conflict . . . but, Magda was doing the right thing.
She had lived through the horrors of persecution, so she understood. But it was why whenever they went on a mission that was tipped off by Magda, Magneto gave explicit instructions that they were not to kill anyone. He did not want that on her conscious, even if she was not responsible for their deaths. She was a good woman, the kindest he knew and he would not do anything to burden her conscious and good nature. Still. Some missions became more . . . violent and dangerous than others. This was one such example. They had raided a government testing site, but they were prepared for mutants. No. They were prepared for him. The use of metal minimum. The injections they weaponized to neutralize their powers. Yes. Erik knew what his next task was going to be and it was to destroy all trace of this substance and find a way to reverse its existence.
But, one thing at a time. As he slowly awoke, his mind raced to piece back together what had happened. The weapon had been used on him, but it was only temporary. one shot hadn't been enough so instead, they had aimed for sedatives . . . not before one of them managed to strike him in the chest which, now that he was conscious . . . he could feel the throbbing of. But still. All of this was secondary. Her words were what rung clear in his mind. And so, he slowly opened his eyes, looking at her. He didn't need to question whether he was safe.
She was here, which gave him that instant solace. That instant assurance, that he was indeed safe. That much had not changed since the first time he'd seen her at the camps. Even though circumstance was drastically different and their lives had been pulled apart . . . only to come together now. He looked at her, a knowing look in his eyes as if to indicate he heard her, without voicing it so to save her any . . . embarrassment. If that was even the right word to use.
He wanted to say it back. He wanted to tell her he loved her too, but no good would come of it. She was married, and he'd always wanted that happiness for her. Her words with her touch was always comforting, but he knew he could not bask in it for long. Looking at her, his vision cleared as he attempted to sit up rather than selfishly bask in the serenity she always provided him with. The gesture caused his expression so ever so slightly twist in the strain of his ribs, but he still managed to sit up, even if it was just barley. "The others?" He asked, needing to know that they were safe. If he was here alone . . . it meant that others had been in danger and that the Brotherhood members had went to save their own.
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 22, 2019 1:19:27 GMT
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 22, 2019 1:15:18 GMT
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 22, 2019 1:10:22 GMT
[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings. Tag Lorna Dane |
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 22, 2019 1:07:29 GMT
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Post by Erik Lehnsherr on Nov 22, 2019 1:00:42 GMT
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