#erik lehnsherr oneshot

[flowersforbucky]

magnetic field

erik lehnsherr x reader

word count: 2k

summary: takes place following the events of days of future past. reader is a mutant with elemental manipulation powers.

a/n: this goes out to the three erik/magneto fans that will read this 🤧 i don't have high hopes for this but i still thought i'd give sharing it a shot. very well may end up deleting it but we will see lol

warnings/tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff! kissing, suggestiveness, implied smut but nothing graphic

You just keep me coming back

Something about how opposites attract

You hold me down

I'm in it for real

Love me, leave me high and dry

I'm back in your arms and I don't know why

I can't get around your magnetic field

- magnetic field by lights

It's just past dusk on a Sunday evening when he shows up on your doorstep with drenched clothes and dripping wet hair.

You knew that you were bound to see him again one day. You just didn't expect it to be here, or quite this soon.

“What are you doing here, Erik?”

You cross your arms and lean against the frame of your small cabin's front door, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself as you take in his appearance.

It had only been a few months since you had last seen him in D.C., but those few months had taken their toll on him. Dark circles encase his eyes that appear almost hollow.

“It always seems to rain when you're feeling particularly nervous,” he says with a half smirk. Thunder booms from above as rain beats down harder on the tin roof of your porch.

“It's Oregon,” you shrug. You concentrate on keeping your voice even. “It's rained for the last five days.”

He's not wrong. You do tend to subconsciously make it rain when you're nervous.

He chuckles under his breath, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you really have to ask why I'm here?”

Now it's you who avoids his question. You have your hopes as to why he's here, but you can't bring yourself to feed into them. Not after all this time - after years of trying to move on while he was imprisoned, followed by a brief reunion during the events of Paris and D.C. that left your heart shattered all over again just a few months ago.

Can you really let yourself believe that he's simply here for you?

You raise a single hand to the side of his neck, your palm caressing the wet skin of his throat. His eyes narrow but he doesn't flinch away, only watches you curiously.

A second later, his previously soaked clothes and sopping wet hair are completely dry. He glances down, realizing what you did as you reluctantly pull your hand away from his skin. You think maybe - just maybe - a hint of disappointment flashes through his eyes at the loss of contact.

“Can't have you dripping all over my carpet,” you sigh, turning to retreat back into the house. You hear the front door click shut and you know that he's followed your lead inside.

“So, why Oregon?” He asks hesitantly as he slips his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the foyer. You turn to find him taking in the appearance of the place you've been trying to call home for the last few months. His eyes skim over the piles of books scattered throughout the small living room, and then to the bouquet of wilted zinnias on your dining room table that you had picked in hopes of making the bland space feel more lively.

“I'll answer your questions if you answer mine,” you offer, leaning against the edge of your kitchen counter. He walks to the dining room table a few feet away from you and pulls out a chair, taking a seat in front of where you stand.

“That sounds fair enough to me, darling.”

Your heart skips a beat at the familiar pet name. It feels as if it's been a lifetime since you've heard him call you that.

“I came here once as a kid,” you answer simply. “After what happened a few months ago, I couldn't bring myself to go back to New York. Charles, the mansion.. everything reminded me of you. I just needed to get away for a while.

He looks down at his lap, unable to hold your gaze. “I have so many regre–”

“Your turn,” you interrupt as you turn to the cabinet behind you. You rummage through it, gathering a tea kettle and a mug.

You aren't ready to hear his apologies. As badly as your heart has wanted to hear that he's sorry for so long, to hear him say that he regrets ever doing anything to jeopardize what the two of you had - you don't trust yourself to not crumble into a million pieces at those words now that he's sitting in your kitchen.

“How did you find me?” You ask without looking back at him. You fill the kettle with water, and bring it to a boil in seconds with the snap of your fingers.

“I'll tell you,” he says over the sharp whistle of the kettle. “But you can't laugh at me.”

You snort, pouring the boiling water over an earl grey tea bag as you try to ignore the swell of bitterness in your chest at the nostalgia of it. Memories of this exact scenario in a different time and place flash through your mind - a happier, more innocent time and place. You carry the mug over to where he sits and place it in front of him before pulling out the chair next to him.

You hold out your pinky towards him, elbow on the dining room table. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I pinky promise that I won't laugh at you,” you say, little finger still extended. He leans forward, lips forming a smirk as he wraps his pinky around yours. His skin is every bit as soft and warm as you remember it being and you dread the moment that he pulls away.

“I went to the mansion,” he answers with his finger still secured around yours. “I snuck into Charles’ study when no one was home and found some letters you had written to him. I saw the return address on the envelope.”

“Huh,” you muse. “I guess I see why you made me promise not to laugh.” You're not sure what you were expecting his answer to be, but you didn’t think it would be quite so… human.

“Your turn to answer a question, darling.”

Your only response is a small nod.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” you answer, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I don’t.”

His posture slackens, relief taking over his features. He leans over to where your fingers are intertwined, and presses his lips to the side of your pinky finger. It has been years since his lips have touched your skin, but you melt at the familiar warmth all the same.

“Good,” he sighs in relief. His breath fans over your skin, leaving a visible trail of goosebumps over your hand. “I do not intend to leave unless you order me away.”

Your eyes burn with tears that threaten to spill over. His sudden appearance, his words, his mere presence after so much time apart is overwhelming. Despite it all, you can’t bring yourself to care about the reasons why you’ve had to spend so much time apart.

He’s here, and that’s enough for you. Everything else can be addressed in time.

You bring your free hand to his face, cupping his jawline in your palm. Your thumb skims over the stubble that graces his cheeks.

“What do we do now?” you wonder aloud. His pale eyes crinkle as he gives you the first smile that you’ve seen from him in years.

“We try to make up for lost time.”

••••••

You heat him some leftovers from the dinner you had made for yourself not long before his arrival, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and homemade bread. He scarfs the food and the tea that you'd made for him down within minutes, and then retreats to your cabin’s small bathroom to rinse off the last few days of cross-country travel. He had brought a singular duffel bag that now rests on the foot of your bed - which just so happens to be the only bed in the house, seeing as how it's a one bedroom and you live here alone.

Butterflies fill your belly at the implication. There was once a time where it never would have been a question - of course the two of you would have shared the only bed in the house. Now, doing so could very well mean diving back in too quickly and ending up broken all over again.

But then again, didn't that become a possibility the second that you opened your door to find him on your porch?

“What’s on your mind?” His soft voice sounds from behind you. You had been so lost in thought that you didn't hear him exit the bathroom and wander back down the hallway.

You turn to find him leaning against your bedroom door frame, wearing only a towel that hangs loosely from his hips. His chestnut hair still drips wet.

Your eyes flicker between him and the spare quilt that you have piled in your arms.

“You can sleep in here,” you tell him with a nod towards the bed that you'd just put a set of fresh sheets on. “I'll take the couch.”

He chuckles lowly, standing up straight as you walk towards the door, blocking your exit.

“Don't be silly. I'm not going to kick you out of your bed in your own home,” he tells you in a gentle but firm tone.

“You're not kicking me out of my bed,” you assure him. “I'm offering it to you.”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze that you struggle to hold - your eyes threatening to wander down the expanse of his chest with the rise and fall of each breath that he takes.

“It's loads comfier that whatever cot that you were sleeping on in prison, I promise,” you jab at him lightly when he doesn't respond.

He hums in consideration, taking a step closer to you.

“It's not the cot that I minded so much while I was in prison. It's the fact that any bed without you in it feels empty.”

A clap of thunder booms in the distance at the same time that your heart skips a beat.

“I'm not expecting anything to happen, darling,” he assures you lightly. “We don't even have to touch. After so much time apart, I just want to be next to you.”

You exhale a breath that you didn't realize you had been holding in, and place the quilt in your arms on the dresser right next to you.

“Don't be silly,” you repeat his sentiment from just moments ago. You take a step closer to him, now able to smell hints of Old Spice soap from his shower. “Of course you can touch me. If that's what you want.”

“If that's what I want?” He scoffs softly, inching towards you. You place your hands on his hips, walking backwards until your thighs brush against the edge of your mattress. You're lodged between him and the bed, his bare chest practically brushing against yours.

“As if I’d ever not want that.”

He raises his hands to each side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him. His thumb massages over the swell of your bottom lip, his eyes locked on your mouth.

“Erik,” you breathe, and before you can get out another word, his lips are slated over yours. You pull him flush against you by your hold on his waist.

When you close your eyes and focus solely on the feeling of his mouth moving in synchrony with yours, you forget where you're at and everything that's happened over the course of the last decade. In this moment, you're not in a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere Oregon - you're in the courtyard of the mansion and he's kissing you for the very first time.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers against your mouth when he pulls away. You raise up on your toes, pressing your lips against his one more time before pulling back to stare up at him with a smirk. You sit down on the edge of the mattress and scoot back, pulling him down with you.

“Then let's make up for lost time.”

You don’t notice it until you're drifting to sleep in each other's arms hours later, but the thunderstorm that had been raging upon his arrival had slowed to a silent, peaceful mist.

thank you for reading ♡ comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

[a-boca-do-inferno]

carpe diem (erik lehnsherr x human!reader)

summary: There is just no escaping Erik Lehnsherr, is there?

warnings: angst, fluff

words: 1.0k

She had no idea what she was doing here, with a fist up ready to knock on his—alleged—door. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but he was still the only one who she could always count on, despite their differences and inevitable fallout. It seemed pathetic, masochist even, how every trouble she encountered herself into eventually forced her to come running for his aid. 

It had been months since the last time she saw Erik Lehnsherr, especially after he secluded himself in some hole, pretending to be retired. (y/n) knew him better than that, of course, and she obviously didn’t believe that crap for a second. At the first sign of danger to his mutants, he would go back to being Magneto without a second thought. And that was his biggest blessing, as much as it was a curse. She often told him that.  

Maybe it was the main reason why they didn’t work out. He needed someone able to put up with his cause, to be passionate about it like he was. But for better or for worse, she couldn’t do that. At the end of the day, she was as human as they come, and Erik’s rage for her species stood out above any feeling he might’ve held for her many a time. They just weren’t right for each other, and she’d accepted it—that is, until she saw his face again, glancing at her in astonishment even through his usual stern demeanour. 

“(y/n)”, Erik states, with no particular intonation.  

“Hi, Erik”, she tries to smile, but fails, nonetheless. Suddenly all the hurt and all the anger made way to her chest again, and her lips just couldn’t take the faking. Not that time. “I’m here to ask for your help.” 

“Are you alright? What happened?”, he sounds concerned, and he should be, since the world was now too dangerous even for humans.  

She cleared her throat, closing her fist. “I have a friend who... She was captured. She is a mutant too.” 

“Where is she?” 

“I don’t know, that’s why I came here”, she sighed, hugging her own body. “I can’t find her on my own, and well, you are the person to come to for these things. Or so people tell me.” 

“Mm”, he mumbles, and his blue eyes seem to avoid hers at all costs. “I will find her, don’t worry”, Erik adds, with a hint of reassurance to his tone, almost as if he himself couldn’t hold that pose for long.  

They stare at each other for a millisecond before she sighs again. (y/n) wants to kiss him, walk up to him confidently like she always did when they were together, take him into her arms and feel his touch, his breath, his love. Oh, how she missed him. She had lied to herself all this time, masking despair with rage, putting into her head they were past any possibility of reconciliation, only for it all to collapse now, at the first sight of his bright eyes. 

Suddenly, there were no mutants or humans anymore, simply two bodies struggling to stay away from each other. Truly, like a magnet. And as if reading her thoughts, Erik uses his powers to pull her by the buckle of her belt slightly, in a silent invitation. As ever, he read her face like a book. Sharp inhales, restless eyes, hairs on end; they all told him everything he needed to know. She was still his, and he was still hers. He nudges her forward again, a little less subtle this time, and her cheeks blush helplessly as the space between them gradually shortens.  

“Don’t be shy, Liebling”, there is the glimpse of a tease in his tone, however serious his expression may still be. Erik looks down on (y/n) with a tiny smile, a bit of cockiness too, and she can’t help but roll her eyes amusingly. He inquires, drawing her closer. “What?” 

“Stop that”, she murmurs weakly, as his grip on her belt keeps pulling her to him. He responds by drawing her even nearer and pressing their bodies together at once, which makes a soft sound leave her lips, resemblant to a gasp. “Erik”, she breathes out, appalled and pleased by his boldness at the same time.  

“Yes?”, Erik purrs, gripping at her sides softly.  

He wants to kiss her, it’s clear, but he was never known for being a man who couldn’t control his urges, so he continues to stare, waiting for a response. His long fingers rub her hips in a slow, intimate, familiar movement. (y/n) shuts her eyes at his touch, laying her head on his chest, almost giving in. She was never a fighter when it came to Erik, anyway. And she knew she was losing this battle.  

“You know we shouldn’t”, (y/n) whispers against the fabric of his shirt, and she can feel the vibration on his chest as a gravelly laugh reaches her ears.  

“Yet we already are, my love.” 

And just like that, any time spent apart was gone. (y/n) kissed him at last and he kissed her back eagerly, pushing her to the nearest wall he could find. The kiss is desperate, full of passion and but a tad of anger as their hands move somewhat frantically, not knowing exactly what to grab first. There is pause when they break away only to go deeper into each other’s mouths, his pale palms flying to her soft hair, pulling it lightly. (y/n) moans in his lips, melting completely, shamelessly, because no matter how much she tried; there was simply no escaping Erik Lehnsherr.  

“Baby”, her words are a sweet whisper, and his ever somber features light up instantly at this. 

“I missed you greatly, my dear”, he whispers back, entirely taken by his own emotion, still holding her waist.  

“So did I, Erik”, (y/n) smiled, staring at him with all the love she repressed before. They shouldn’t be doing that, not again, not after everything, but it was difficult to be rational when flowers seemed to grow in her chest whenever he looked at her. “So did I.” 

Erik brought (y/n) into another kiss, this time deeper and gentler, cupping her face. Nothing mattered anymore, not when she felt like this in his arms. It was the rightest thing to ever be wrong. And so, she let herself fall victim to Erik Lehnsherr’s magnetic powers once again, nothing in her even remotely hinting at regret for doing so. Perhaps later she could worry about everything else.  

For now, his lips were enough. 

[imagininglotsofthings]

Dreams - Erik Lehnsherr Imagine

"You had a dream about Charles?" Erik's question made her stop in her tracks, and her face heated up.

"What?" she asked. "What are you- how did you-?"

He gestured to her journal, which she had left open on their kitchen table. It was closed now.

"You read my journal?!" she asked, outraged.

"No-I mean, yes. Part of it...it was lying open on the table and I didn't realize at first. All I saw was 'I had a dream about Charles last night. We were on my bed..." in your handwriting. I closed it after that, I swear. But...you had a dream about him?" Erik's pretty blue eyes looked hurt, and it broke her heart.

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking, Erik."

"It said you were in your bed with him." She could hear the strain in his voice.

"Not this bed." Meaning the bed the two of them shared most nights. He waited for her to go on. "My bedroom at my father's house from when I was a teenager."

Erik looked like he didn't understand how that was much better.

"I wasn't even in the bed with him. And nothing was happening. He turned on the television and there was a movie on. The Others. It's a horror film I watched when I was thirteen, which scared the shit out of me. Which by the way is what I told Charles when he put it on in the dream. And then asked him to turn it off because there was no way I would be sleeping if he didn't. And that was it. I woke up. I don't even know if he turned it off."

Erik looked a little relieved. "If he's anything like our Charles in real life, he probably did."

She grinned. "Yeah, probably." Erik finally cracked a smile. "See? I told you, nothing happened."

He made a small noise in the back of his throat and walked over to her. In a few long strides he was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Hmmm, I still don't think I'm very fond of it. He was in your bed, after all." Erik leaned down and rubbed his nose against hers in a sort of Eskimo kiss. The beginnings of heat crept up her neck.

"It's not my fault...it was a dream. I didn't...pick it."

"Still...I much prefer that I am the only other person in your bed." He kissed her nose and grinned at the full on blush that overtook her cheeks.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬? 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡➳

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could I get Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler with a reader who’s mutation isn’t for combat? It makes them feel weak compared to the others

Here are some headcanons for how Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler would react to an S/O whose mutation isn’t combat-oriented and who feels insecure or weak compared to the others:

Storm (Ororo Munroe)

1. Ororo would immediately recognize the importance of your mutation, regardless of its combat capabilities. She’s wise and empathetic, and she’d reassure you that every mutation has its place and purpose. She would remind you that her own powers, though formidable, have many uses beyond combat—like nurturing the earth or bringing rain to parched lands.

2.Storm would encourage you to explore the full potential of your abilities. She’d work with you to find ways your mutation could be used to benefit the team in non-combat scenarios, whether it’s healing, providing support, or something entirely unique. She’d help you see that strength isn’t just about fighting; it’s about contributing in meaningful ways.

3.Ororo is incredibly compassionate and would take time to listen to your feelings of inadequacy. She would share stories of times she felt out of place or unsure of her own powers, helping you understand that everyone, even the most powerful mutants, has moments of doubt.

4. Storm would ensure that the team recognizes and values your contributions. She might organize team exercises or missions where your specific skills are crucial, showing everyone—including yourself—how essential you are to their success.

5. Ororo has a deep appreciation for individuality. She would often compliment you on your unique abilities and encourage you to embrace what makes you different. She’d remind you that being unique is a strength in itself, not a weakness.

Magneto (Erik Lehnsherr)

1.Magneto has seen the wide range of mutant abilities and knows that not all of them are combat-oriented. He’d likely take a pragmatic approach, reminding you that every power has its utility and value. He’d encourage you to think strategically about how your mutation can be leveraged in different situations.

2. Erik would challenge you to rethink what it means to be “strong.” He’d point out that many of the most important and influential individuals in history didn’t rely on physical strength or combat prowess but on intellect, influence, or unique talents. He’d push you to see that your mutation might offer strengths others lack.

3.Magneto might take a personal interest in helping you develop your abilities. He’d offer guidance on how to maximize your potential, perhaps even suggesting ways to combine your mutation with other skills or technologies to increase its effectiveness in different contexts.

4. Erik is a big-picture thinker, and he’d help you see how your mutation fits into a larger context. Whether it’s through aiding in strategic planning, gathering intelligence, or supporting the team in ways that go beyond combat, he’d make it clear that every role is vital to the cause.

5. Magneto wouldn’t sugarcoat things; he’d be honest about the challenges you face. But his honesty would come with a strong message: you are part of something greater, and your value isn’t diminished because your abilities aren’t combat-related. He’d emphasize that everyone has a part to play and that your role is just as crucial as anyone else’s.

Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner)

1. Kurt would be incredibly empathetic towards your feelings of insecurity. He understands what it’s like to feel different or less capable, and he’d be the first to reassure you that your worth isn’t determined by how well you can fight. He’d remind you that the X-Men are a team, and every team member’s contribution is important, no matter what form it takes.

2. Kurt would make a point to highlight the ways your mutation has helped the team, no matter how small or behind-the-scenes those contributions might seem. He’d constantly remind you that your abilities bring something special to the group, whether it’s in the form of support, creativity, or another non-combat strength.

3. Nightcrawler would gently encourage you to explore your powers further, finding new ways to use them that you might not have considered. He’d offer to help you experiment in a safe, supportive environment, emphasizing that your powers are valuable and that there’s no need to compare yourself to others.

4.Kurt is deeply compassionate, and he’d be your biggest cheerleader when you’re feeling down. He’d remind you that being kind, empathetic, and supportive are strengths in themselves, and that those qualities are just as important to the team as any combat ability.

5. Kurt might share his own experiences of feeling out of place or inadequate, using his faith and personal philosophy to help you see that everyone has a purpose. He’d remind you that your worth isn’t defined by others’ expectations but by your own unique gifts and how you choose to use them.

[kaznejis]

Your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader (Masterlist)

Professor Erik Lehnsherr was an enigma, it was undeniable to anyone who crossed his path. He emanated a magnificent presence; intelligence, authority, power. But, he was also kind, when he wanted to be. Reverent smiles when a student offered an insightful point during one of his seminars, a chuckle when a hint of true personality slipped out during their answer, a smirk when the debate prose grew heated.

A true beacon of trust, solemn kindness to all of his students; but, sometimes, in the darkest depths of the night, tucked safely into the comforts of your duvet- you felt that part of him reserved an extra sense of kindness for you.

A collection of affiliated, but standalone, oneshots

I- Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

II- Tarnished, but so grand

III- (TBC)

[readingcherik]

a greek tragedy. by mapofyourstars

Erik is Achilles. Charles is Patroclus. Inspired by The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Chaos Before the Oscars

X Men Masterlist

It’s Oscar night, and Y/N is already fully dressed, standing before the large mirror in the bedroom. Her gown, an elegant, floor-length piece in deep navy blue, fits her figure perfectly. Her makeup is flawless, and her hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders. She looks like she stepped right out of a high-fashion magazine, but her gaze isn’t on herself. Instead, she watches with an amused grin as her two men, James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, frantically rush around the room.

“Where the hell is my shirt?” James shouts in frustration, pulling open drawer after drawer. “I swear I just saw it here!”

Y/N sits down on the edge of the bed, casually crossing her legs, and watches the spectacle unfold. “It’s hanging on the hook, darling,” she says calmly, barely lifting her gaze from her two men. “You shouldn’t be so nervous. This isn’t your first time at the Oscars.”

“Nervous? Me?” James replies, though his frantic rummaging says otherwise. “I’m completely relaxed.”

“Sure,” Y/N murmurs with a smile. “So relaxed you almost put on the tie instead of the shirt.”

“Funny,” James retorts, giving her a slightly annoyed glance before finally finding the shirt and tossing it on.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Michael is struggling with his tuxedo. “Why the hell are these things always so tight?” He fumbles with the collar while simultaneously wrestling with the bow tie that refuses to sit properly.

“Maybe it’s because you’re always in such a rush,” Y/N says, folding her arms across her chest and enjoying the scene.

Michael sighs in frustration and turns to her. “Alright, I admit it. Will you help me before I completely ruin this damn thing?”

Y/N rises with a smile and walks over to Michael. “You two would be completely lost without me, wouldn’t you?” She stands in front of him and expertly begins tying his bow tie. Her fingers glide smoothly over the fabric, and Michael immediately relaxes under her touch.

“I’m sure we would’ve managed somehow,” Michael says, though he’s grinning.

“Somehow,” Y/N echoes, shaking her head slightly. “It’s amazing you both managed to succeed in the film industry when you can’t even handle a bow tie.”

James, now fighting with his shirt, throws her an amused glance. “Oh, we have other talents.”

“Oh really?” Y/N challenges as she finishes adjusting Michael’s bow tie. “Like what?”

"For example..." James begins, stopping to think. "Well, for example in... improvisation. Or in charm."

“Mhm, charm,” Y/N repeats slowly, turning toward James. “Maybe charm will help you when you’ve buttoned your shirt wrong.”

James looks down at himself and groans loudly. “Damn it!”

Michael laughs and pats James on the shoulder. "You are really in top form today”

“I was distracted,” James defends himself, hurriedly starting to fix the buttons.

“Sure,” Y/N says, stepping closer to help him. “I know all about distractions.”

James looks down at her as she unbuttons and rebuttons his clothes. "Can you blame me? You look incredible."

"Oh, I know," Y/N says with a cheeky grin. "But you guys don't look bad either... once you're done, anyway."

Michael steps behind her and gently places his hands on her shoulders. "You're particularly quick-witted today, you know that?"

"Maybe it's because I'm the only one here who doesn't have a nervous breakdown over a shirt or a bow tie," Y/N replies dryly, patting James on the chest when she's finished. "There. Now you almost look decent."

"Almost?" James asks, raising an eyebrow.

"All that's missing is the jacket. But honestly,” she gives him a sharp look, “as long as you put it on the right way, I’m happy.”

Michael laughs again and falls onto the bed. “I love it when she’s so direct. It keeps us on our toes.”

Y/N gives him a challenging look. “I’m sure without me, you two would never make it out of the house on time.”

James shakes his head as he pulls on his jacket. “Probably not,” he finally admits. “But… that’s what makes us so interesting, isn’t it?”

Y/N stops, her arms folded across her chest, as she looks at the end result of her work. Both of her men look stunning in their tuxedos, but the journey there was beyond chaotic.

“Interesting?” she repeats, stepping back to look at them both. "I would call it more 'challenging'."

"But you love that," says Michael, winking at her. "A little chaos, a little excitement..."

"Maybe," replies Y/N, grinning. "But a little more organization wouldn't hurt either."

James steps towards her and gently puts his hands around her waist. "Well, that's what we have you for, isn't it? You're the connecting link in this chaos."

"Right," mutters Y/N, playfully pushing him away. "But now we should go before we're really late."

"Wait," calls Michael, who stands up and frantically searches for his cufflinks. "Where are they..."

"In your jacket pocket," says Y/N without even looking. "Exactly where I put them so you don't lose them."

Michael reaches into his pocket and smiles. "You're a real miracle, you know that?"

"I know that," Y/N replies, shaking her head as she heads for the door. "Come on now. I'm not the only one who's supposed to look good tonight."

"Before we go," James murmurs, pulling Y/N gently to him, "is there something else I need to get off my chest."

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asks, looking up at him curiously.

James leans forward and presses a soft, intense kiss to her lips. Y/N closes her eyes briefly and returns the kiss with a slight smile. As they separate, she feels Michael behind her wrap his arms around her waist and gently kiss her shoulder. "I think that's our ritual before we leave," he says quietly.

"A ritual I don't want to miss," Y/N murmurs, turning slightly to Michael to kiss him too. His lips are warm and familiar, and when they finally pull apart, her gaze falls on James, who is standing next to them, smirking.

Michael raises an eyebrow and takes a step closer to James. "I think I'm not the only one who deserves a kiss tonight," he says with a mischievous smile.

James smiles slightly, steps closer. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, and Y/N watches them with a satisfied smile as her two men lose themselves in their own togetherness for a moment.

When they pull apart, Y/N shakes her head slightly. "You two... are impossible."

"You know that," James says as he gently takes her hand.

Michael joins them, and together they leave the room, hand in hand, ready for the evening.

[beauiestars]

Cherik x Good Omens AU

Angel!Charles Xavier/Demon!Erik Lehnsherr

Word count: 1610

Warnings: Angst, Fluff (if you squint), Religious elements/imagery (Good Omens style, duh), Forbidden romance

Summary: In a world where angels and demons are bound by divine law, Erik, a fallen angel, and Charles, a devoted angel, fall into a forbidden love that defies the natural order. Willing to face any consequence, even death, Erik is determined to protect Charles from the dangers their bond brings, as they navigate the tension between duty and desire.

After several million years in Charles' company, Erik thought he knew the angel's moods like the back of his hand. However, that couldn't have been further from the truth. As Charles strode up and down the bookshop with an unreadable expression—and responded to Erik's questioning with nonsensical monosyllabic answers—the demon was left perplexed.

Less than a moment ago, they had been engaging in amiable conversation near the fireplace, which was gradually becoming less out of character for the two men. Yet, Charles' demeanour had flipped like a switch and he hadn't uttered a coherent word since.

"Charles, your tea is getting cold," Erik said in a poor attempt to coax the angel back to his side. Of course, Charles didn't spare him a glance. He was offended for only a moment before reminding himself that he hadn't done anything wrong and that Charles was the one behaving peculiarly. With a flick of his wrist, the tea steamed in the mug once again.

Erik watched Charles' erratic movements, only growing more bewildered each time the angel passed by with another stack of books. There was no rhyme or reason to anything Charles was doing; he moved piles of books from one spot to another, and then back again, all whilst muttering incoherently under his breath.

When Charles tried to move a bookshelf using brute strength—unsuccessfully—Erik had to step in. "Stop that. What on earth are you doing?" Erik planted himself between a red-faced Charles and the bookshelf. For the first time in almost an hour, Charles finally looked up at Erik. A huff escaped his pouted lips, and his blue eyes filled with determination.

"If you'd excuse me," Charles said, trying to budge past Erik to resume his secret agenda. Erik planted his feet firmly on the ground, a solid force against the interminable stubbornness of Charles Xavier. Exasperated, and unwilling to fight a losing battle on this occasion, Charles resigned himself to the armchair beside the fireplace, crossing his arms firmly against his chest. "I'll do that later."

"Do what, Charles?" Erik raked his hands through his hair. For reasons he couldn't quite discern, not knowing exactly what went on inside Charles' head unsettled him. Reading people—especially Erik—was always Charles's strong suit. Much to Erik's dismay, it rarely worked the other way around. "You're making no sense."

"To you, maybe," Charles scowled from his spot on the armchair. As far as Erik knew, he was an innocent man—though not really, but in the current situation, he certainly believed it—and Charles' attitude toward him was unwarranted. If Erik hadn't been offended before, he certainly was now.

"Charles," Erik's tone held a promise of dispute. Charles' name had never been uttered from Erik's lips so harshly, and it appeared to rattle him. He sat up straighter, and his hands fell into his lap. The demon approached him in long strides, planting his palms on either arm of Charles' armchair, trapping the angel in place. "If you don't tell me what I've done, I can't fix it. Can I?"

"I suppose not," Charles said at a hushed volume, preferring to keep his eyes trained on Erik's chest rather than his face. He bit down on his lip, continuing to shy away from eye contact. An inkling of hurt bloomed in Erik's heart. Opting to worry about the implications later, he hooked his thumb and index fingers under Charles's chin and turned his face up to meet Erik's softened gaze.

"Tell me what I've done, liebling." The term of endearment rolled off Erik's tongue before he could stop it—not that he would have. Charles sighed, his blue eyes finally meeting Erik's. The angel couldn't resist these moments of softness from the demon, no matter how fleeting. Charles' freckled cheeks grew redder, but Erik dismissed it as the heat from the hearth.

"When we were talking just now," Charles began, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. He'd been so shy to make eye contact a minute ago, but now his gaze was impenetrable. "Or a while ago—my fault—the way you spoke so passionately. I just..." Charles' voice trailed off, and he bit into his bottom lip.

Erik, overflowing with burning anticipation, urged him to continue. "Did I upset you? Was it something I said?" His overt impatience came across more intensely than he'd intended. Charles leaned back in his seat, creating distance as Erik's fingers dropped from his jaw.

"Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact," Charles laughed. It was a short and intrusive sound, but innocuous. Erik knew Charles wasn't laughing at him, per se. Even so, Charles didn't elaborate. The burgeoning expectation was driving Erik mad, and it must have shown on his face. "You captivated me."

Erik felt the tension ease in his shoulders, and he released his bated breath. "In that case, I can't possibly fathom why you've been pacing around the bookshop and avoiding me for the last half hour." The more Charles tried to answer Erik's questions, the more arose in their place.

"I was afraid of what it might mean," Charles said. Erik silently cursed Charles' prudence—which now seemed to be the basis for Charles' caprice. Keeping his mouth shut and his agitation restrained, Erik urged Charles to continue. "I was afraid of what I would have to admit and how it would affect us."

"Us?" Erik hoped that Charles would stop being so vague and verbose for one moment to get his point across. "What about us?" His confusion seeped into every syllable, his frustration palpable.

"For goodness' sake, Erik. I'm bloody in love with you," Charles finally confessed, his chest heaving and his eyes scanning frantically over Erik's expression. Suddenly, Charles' hesitance was warranted. The words lingered, suspended in the air like the beginning winds of a storm, heavy with the threat of something that could tear them apart.

Something forbidden—unheard of—had burgeoned  between the two men. Anything more than a reluctant cooperation between an angel and a demon was unprecedented. Their bond defied all realms of natural law regarding their kind. The punishment for such a crime, if there was even a concept for it, could be detrimental.

To say Erik didn't feel the same would be a sordid mistruth. Getting to know someone over the span of eternity leaves little to be uncovered, and although Erik couldn't predict Charles' moods, he knew everything that truly mattered. All of the good and bad—though the latter was negligible. Erik loved it all. He loved Charles.

The aphotic depths of this new territory offered no guarantees of punishment or forgiveness. Perhaps they would be pardoned, but one could never make such an optimistic assumption. Erik knew the wrath of God. Would she punish their kindred spirits and bleeding hearts?

"Erik?" Charles' anxious voice anchored Erik to the present. The contrite look the angel's face filled Erik with shame. Unaware of how long he had remained silent, he had left Charles to draw his own conclusions and assume the worst.

A fire lit behind Charles' lustrous eyes, catching Erik off guard. "I'm not sorry," Charles said. His tone tremendously assured, as if his attitude had changed with the flip of a switch.

"Pardon?" Erik shook his head, mystified by the other man's sudden impertinent countenance. Charles' stare was unrelenting, and Erik recognised the tacit agreement that Charles would not repeat himself.

Erik, at a loss for words, dropped to his knees in front of Charles. For the first time, Charles looked down at Erik, his blue eyes swimming with expectation. Erik had always been a man of few words, but he invariably made his intentions clear. "Charles, I worship you."

Charles' eyes widened, and an incredulous gasp escaped his perfect lips. He was unaccustomed to the way Erik unflinchingly uttered blasphemy. Once, the fallen angel had questioned the iniquitous rules of God, and she had struck him from the Heavens. But his angel could never be so cruel. "My devotion belongs to you. And you alone."

"Oh, Erik," Charles said longingly. Erik's beliefs scarcely aligned with those Charles had held since the beginning of time, but Erik selfishly hoped the angel might indulge him and embrace the forbidden moment. The thrill of defiance filled Erik with a desperate hope that they could make this work.

"I love you," Erik said like a prayer. Charles wordlessly sank onto the floor in front of him. His hand found its way to Erik's jaw, four fingers grazing the side of his face and his thumb brushing the apple of Erik's cheek. The demon leaned into the angel's touch like it was a sweet reprieve.

Charles leaned in carefully. His free hand trailed into Erik's hair at the back of his neck, and flames erupted within him. Their noses touched for a second before their mouths met, already soft and open. They fit together like puzzle pieces or missing ribs.

Erik kissed Charles as if he were desperate to memorise the feel of his lips and the taste of his sweet, warm mouth. Charles' lips were softer than anything Erik had ever known, and his kisses were all-consuming. Erik couldn't think or do anything but drink Charles in, savouring the movements of his lips and each breath as it came.

When the time arrived—if it arrived—that they would face trial for their crime, Erik would take all the blame. He'd lie to any jury, and say he coerced Charles; the possibility of Charles paying the price of their love was inconceivable. If loving Charles meant death, Erik would choose death every time.

Thankyou for reading my short lil oneshot! The idea was given to me by my good friend Dani when I was struggling to write for my main fic. This is my first time publishing any of my work since around 2020, so please be nice :.)

28th August 2024

TAGS:

[st4rqirl444]

i’m gonna attempt to start writing up here again so please request because i have no clue what to write plot wise. also it’s mostly gonna be x men because im quite literally obsessed with them rn but its other ppl too mostly marvel tho for right now😼🤭

characters i’ll write for - logan howlett, young charles xavier, young erik lehnsherr, alex summers, scott summers, mystique/raven, hank mccoy, kurt wagner, deadpool, young colossus, remy labeau, pietro or peter maximoff, stephan strange, loki, jean grey, storm, wanda maximoff, steve rogers, peter parker (andrew’s version), dean winchester, sam winchester.

there might be people im forgetting but if someone you want is not on the list feel free to just ask! i can also write for celebs if you want like ryan reynolds, hugh jackman, pedro pascal etc.

anyways you can request one shots, headcannons or blurbs but i will most likely not write smut because i have never written it and im shit at it

anyways have a great day ! 🤞

[mapofyourstars]

we recognize each other and call this love.

The nine times that Erik and Charles' souls met each other; and the final time their souls vowed to never be apart. A Reincarnation AU with a happy ending.

Relationship: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier Rating: Mature Words: 20,199

[flowersforbucky]

Your Erik/Magneto piece is so cute I am dying. I can't believe I just saw it. Omg.. hardly anyone writes for Erik it is so hard to find fics for him. Yours is so freaking good.... I could see the entire interaction so vividly and I think you got his character SPOT ON. It is such a heartwarming piece. I would do anything to see more of him from you in the future 🙌🏻 reading it made my day.

you're gonna make me cry 😭 thank you so much for this. i'm so happy you enjoyed the fic and my portrayal of erik. i really wish there were more fics for him!! he's such an interesting character and he's one of my favorites for sure.

thanks for stopping by to tell me you liked it 🫶🏻

magnetic field

[eclipseyll]

Pairing (PLATONICALLY!!!) : Erik Lehnsherr x Serena Rodrigo (XMEN OC)

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr couldn't sleep, as one particular member too. Erik and Serena bond with their shared trauma while being still hostile to one another.

Warning: None

A/N: this takes place after apocalypse, Erik decided to stay to teach other mutants. This is not my first oneshot/fanfic but it's been awhile so don't judge hihi. NOT PROOFREAD!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Serena couldn't sleep, those visions creeping inside of her head everytime she closed her eyes. She saw it coming, she saw how Apocalypse would destroy the world. And it shocked her.

It was her first time to receive such visions, she usually saw death and destruction but never extinction of both kinds that were up against each other.

Her arm still hurt from the fight, it was healed but still burns. When she saw that pale blue monstrous mutant choking a new member of the XMEN, she knew she had to do something. Serena tried using her shadow abilities by enveloping her darkness around Apocalypse to let go of Pete, she succeeded but in turn Apocalypse used her abilities against her. He used her darkness to project pain in which burned her left hand.

Serena sighed, wincing at the memory. 'Its over... Its over'. She whispered to herself, closing her shady brown eyes strenuously.

She opened her eyes again, trying to focus it on the nightlight stickers above her head. Serena now contemplated her life, a month ago she was running away from the authorities doing everything to be safe as she was, in the words of the human community a "destruction maker". But now she's in a infamous school for gifted youngsters, not only a student but a trainee to be apart of the XMEN group who swore to protect both kinds.

She quickly stood up, took her jacket across her bed and gloves in her nightstand wearing it to prevent more unwelcome visions, deciding to take a walk. She needed to clear her mind because the last thing she needed was be confused with her brand new life and reminisce

her old gloomy one.

As she strolled around the mansion, she looked up to the paintings and admiring the exterior. She didn't need light to view the inside of the mansion, as she has to the ability to see in the dark. And she was grateful to have the skill as she almost shrieked out of fear seeing a silhouette in the patio as she found herself in the garden house.

She sighed in relief as the moonlight shined on the only one Mr. Magneto. He looked tired and disheveled, it didn't need a telepath to sense that something was bothering him. And he was just staring at Serena which made her uncomfortable, he was probably trying to get peace too and Serena didn't want to interrupt, as she tried to walk away. He called out,

"Wait." His voice hoarse, like he has been crying.

Serena spun her head gazing upon the adult man. Pity and empathy rushed onto her, she didn't despise the man infront of her but then she also didn't like him. Not after the multiple acts he has done that has probably either made the situation for mutants the worse or the better.

She cleared her throat, walking up to him, "May I sit down?" Serena asked gesturing the free chair. He only nodded as a response.

The both sat there quietly, bathing each other's silence and company, staring at moon.

"It's beautiful." Serena suddenly blurted after 5 minutes of complete silence that made Erik glance at the young girl.

"You know, it's rare to view the full moon as it only occurs once every 29 days." Her mouth line reaching her ears, as she smiled quirkily trying not to be awkward. Erik just nodded again, ever since with Apocalypse he has been quiet, around her anyways. She doesn't blame him if he feels guilty with the things he have done when he was at the wrong side. Erik only stopped when Apocalypse almost killed Raven and Serena, he was burning her left hand using her abilities and he was choking Raven. Erik used his enhanced abilities trying to trap Apocalypse that made him unhand both girls and Serena appreciated that. But she wouldn't say it aloud.

"Why are you still up?” Erik asked, in a slow pace, testing the waters with the young mutant as this would be their first official interaction.

Serena bit her bottom lip, hesitating whether or not to trust this man with her worries. "I just - couldn't handle the visions and nightmare, there are just some days where everything is too much." Looking at the ground and fidgeting her gloves.

"Is that why you wear your gloves?"

"Yeah, it's too prevent any sudden visions."

"Why is that?” Erik asked curiously.

"Well when I was a child, when I discovered my ability to foresee the futures and past, nobody believed or helped me. Then when I accidentally created a shadow dome in my school, I was taken away. My sister tried to protect me but she couldn't do anything to the government people." She rambled.

"So what I have learned is that, If I don't want to be poked around with needles or people thinking I'm evil because of my power over the dark or be invaded with awful destinies and pasts. I should try my best to control and hide my powers." Serena stated trying not to let the tears go, as many miserable memories of her childhood being misunderstood and assaulted, used as an experiment and her doing everything she can to survive.

Serena received an empathetic look from Erik, him understanding her traumatic past. "I'm sorry to hear that Rodrigo, nobody deserves to have gone through all that. But you shouldn't compromise of who you are to accommodate the people around you." Serena only could muster a small thank you while snuffling.

"Why are you awake at this time then, Mr. Lehnsherr?"

Erik stayed silent for awhile, staring intently at Serena. While the girl looked at ground as if it was the greatest view she has seen, as she felt his stare drilling onto her skull. Erik hesitated is he should tell the young girl of his problems, as he was scared the knowledge he would share will be use against him and make him weak again.

As if reading his mind, "You don't have to say anything." Serena stated, reaching her gloved hand and putting above his that was laying at the table seperating the two mutants. Erik looked at her hands on top on his, then stared at her again. She was smiling warmly, as if he wasn't the most wanted man on Earth. "But if you ever do decide to say something, I promise everything you say is safe and locked here." Serena pointed at her brain.

Erik breath out trembling, he open his mouth then shut it, he was contemplating on what words should he use to explain reasons of his sadness and grief.

"It hurts," He grunted. "It hurts so much, it feels like its ripping out my heart." Serena furrowed her brows, pitying the old man.

"Shaw killed my Mother, they killed my wife and my precious daughter, they imprisoned me and they tortured me." A tear fell on his beige skin, "I never had anything left yet still, every time I show the slightest care for someone they take it away from me. Haven't I given enough?” He continued, looking at Serena crazed with anger, guilt and sadness.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Lehnsherr." Serena stated speechless, "I do hope that someday you will find peace and happiness, what you have gone through is very hard. " She awkwardly looked at him, and Erik understood she didn't know what words to use to console him but her presence and her hopefulness for Erik already gave him some bit of comfort.

"Thank you, and please I think we're past the formalities. Just call me Erik." He said smiling the pain away.

"Then just call me Serena, Erik."

The two mutants smiling each other kindly, then looked away to stare at the moon again. Tonight Serena might have just made a new acquaintance, as the two bonded with their own heartbreaks. Serena then felt the hand below hers, squeeze gently.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

okok soo I was inspired so I made my oc and Erik interact bc why not???

I was also inspired bc last time I asked ai to make my oc and Erik interact and I loved them (Also just to be clear, I may have asked ai to make a shitty oc but the oc (name, backstory etc.) I have written and posted, is what I have created on my own with the inspiration of Remnant, Raven, Shade and Darkling. And also I just asked Ai since I needed some explaination on dark matter which is a power of another oc of my mine HAHAHHA)

and also I want to write more interactions with other XMEN members, So maybe I will do Jean Grey next!!

[imagininglotsofthings]

I have such a long Erik Lehnsherr fanfic I just finished a draft of today. Will probably come out to about 10k. lol (Hey, that rhymes!!) Makes me wonder if one part or multiple parts is better?....

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[awkward-walking-potato]

How would Scott, Charles, and magneto, react to a reader who as an very powerful and versatile mutation but is so under coordinated and is kind of hesitant to join the x-men because they don't think they will be good enough on the team

Here's how Scott Summers (Cyclops), Charles Xavier (Professor X), and Magneto might react to a reader with a powerful and versatile mutation who feels undercoordinated and hesitant to join the X-Men due to doubts about their abilities:

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

Scott is all about discipline and control, so he would likely address your concerns with practical advice and encouragement. He'd say something like:

"Look, I understand that you’re feeling unsure of yourself, but you’ve got to remember that we all started somewhere. Even the most powerful abilities mean nothing without practice. Your mutation is a gift, and with training, you'll get the coordination and confidence you need. The X-Men aren’t just about power; we're about teamwork, and that’s something we can help you with. Don’t let doubt stop you from reaching your full potential. We’ve got your back."

Charles Xavier (Professor X):

Charles would approach your concerns with compassion and insight. He would want to help you understand your worth and the importance of your unique abilities:

"My dear friend, it’s perfectly natural to have doubts, but do not let them define you. Your hesitation tells me that you care deeply about contributing meaningfully, and that’s the mark of someone who will be a valuable member of the team. Coordination and skill can be honed with time, but your potential is limitless. Here at the Xavier Institute, we focus on nurturing not just your powers, but also your self-belief. You belong here, not because of what you can do, but because of who you are."

Magneto (Erik Lehnsherr):

Magneto’s response would likely be more intense and driven by his belief in mutant superiority, but he would also recognize your potential:

"Power is a gift, not a curse. You may feel uncoordinated now, but that is a temporary limitation. Hesitation is the enemy of progress. The world fears and misunderstands us, and you cannot afford to doubt your strength. Join me, and I will show you how to harness your abilities, to turn your weaknesses into strengths. Together, we can shape a future where mutants like us no longer need to question our worth. The X-Men may teach restraint, but I offer you something greater: the confidence to claim your rightful place."