#erik lehnsherr oneshots

[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!!!

[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.

[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. 

[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:

[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.

[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 ! 🤞

[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˚🌑

[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!!

[lapseinrecs]

Bearings

By Ion Bond

On Livejournal

Status: Complete; Oneshot

Summary: The Xavier School has a long tradition of educational field trips.

My thoughts: Really good. Not gonna lie, I'm a sucker for fics that talk about Scott knowing how to navigate the world blind. This fic is before he gets a visor. Also Erik is interesting too.

[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."

[kaznejis]

We're hanging on by a heartbeat- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“You’re bringing Hank, right?”  She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.”  “I need to borrow him.” “What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

A/N: Thanks for all of the support on my fics!!! every comment, like, reblog and read is GREATLY appreciated. So, enjoy this fun little oneshot I found in my drafts. :)

Word Count: 5,250 / Read it on AO3!

“He’s gonna be there, Y/N,” Raven sighed, swirling her champagne glass as she pursed her lips at you, “Charles practically demanded that he be there despite his refusals, I think he promised him that he’d get you to speak to him.” She accompanied the last words with exaggerated air quotes. 

“Mhm,” You grumbled, fiddling with your outfit in the mirror, “And that means, you are not allowed to leave me unattended. At any point.” 

“Y/N..” 

“Nope,” Turning towards her, splayed out on a chaise in her human form; a gorgeous dress accentuating her figure and her blonde hair flowing down her back in waves; you simply shook your head, face stern as you spoke. “I’m not going down that path again, I’m done with his idiocy.” 

“But… what does that have to do with being left unattended?” A smirk curled at the corners of her lipstick stained lips. You glared right back at her. 

“Because, I can’t-” You exhaled heavily through your nose, clearing the nerves from your chest at the mere thought of speaking to him, “If I speak to him, I will just embarrass myself- he, obviously, does not feel the same way as I feel for him.” 

Raven just sighed, visibly sick of you and Erik’s antics. Behind the guise of being best friends; you and Erik had been playing an erratic, immoral game of cat and mouse, each interaction felt like a step closer to admitting your feelings for him, but then, a subsequent step back at the very same time. He was complicated, to say the least, plagued by the traumas of his past and present. Plagued by the responsibility that he wielded upon his shoulders as a powerful mutant, the expectation of moral compassion; and, the sordid reality of his beliefs. 

You supported him, wholeheartedly, every step of the way. Your own chaotic mutant gene infecting your ability to appear as a normal human being; the green at your irises and the vines that intertwine upon your fingertips only causing fear, despite your god-given purpose being to allow growth. Maybe that’s why the two of you had gotten along so well; both of your powers allow you each to manipulate the foundations of the Earth itself- the ability to shift infrastructure and take lives at the merest of thoughts, at the slightest of movements. the hypothetical extent of what you could do rendered you outcasts, even if you had no desire to inflict pain upon others, they awaited with bated breaths until you would do so. 

Whilst Erik had initially viewed his residence within the school as a prison, you had seen it as a safe haven. The lush meadows and ancient trees that adorned the acres of land called to you, allowing for days spent barefoot amongst the reeds, with only birdsong to accompany you. Erik had paid you little mind at first- having only allowed you fleeting glances at dinner, a nod of the head if he agreed with a point, a slither of a smirk when you amused him. But, soon, he let you in; allowed you into the fortress of his conscience, allowed you to peel back the layers of his anger, and understood his desires for vengeance. You had balanced him out, balanced out the choke of his dark turtlenecks with the flow of your hair; balanced out the harshness of his metal with the brush of petal stems upon your fingertips. 

As your friendship had developed naturally, your feelings had followed. Abrasive, corrosive feelings. Soon enough, Erik plagued your every waking thought; his essence identifiable within the flow of the river, within the dust upon the floorboards, within the quiet of your room upon nightfall. 

He was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape. 

You would find him at breakfast in the morning, laughing obnoxiously at Charles; his teeth glinting in the morning light. You would find him in the classrooms, teaching the children their mandatory mutant history lessons; a transfixing performance of great intelligence, his hands enunciating each and every point. You loved watching him teach, perching upon a desk at the back of his room as he interacted with the children, engaging with their conversations whilst simultaneously wielding the ability to hold the students captivated when delivering a lecture. 

But, most importantly, your favourite place to find him was beside you. He would join you at the lakeside most nights, smiling to himself as you conjured flower after flower, allowing them to flow in the wind, the two of you watching as they found a home upon the tranquil waters. It was there, in the dark and the quiet of nightfall, that you had allowed your feelings to bubble at the surface, allowed your inhibitions to loosen as you had turned to him, studied the sharp features of his side profile; he had turned to you too, an eyebrow raised as he blinked, confused. 

“I was wondering..” You began, fiddling with the petals of a flower within your hands, watching as his loose, plaid shirt fluttered in the wind beside you; a change in his wardrobe that you had inflicted, “Charles is hosting a formal dinner next weekend.” 

Erik huffed, smiling at you; though his lip curled confusedly, “I know, I am the co-head of the school; I signed off on the plan.” 

Idiot, you chastised yourself, of course he knew that. Erik had turned towards you entirely now, his head tilted in intrigue as he stared at you, “Oh- yeah, well I was wondering, if you wanted to-”

“I’m not even sure why Charles would want to host such a thing, I mean, just an opportunity for the kids to drink too much and make a mess of the house.” 

“Yeah, well-” 

“And then one of Charles’ assistants asked me to be her date for it and I-” 

You felt it, in that moment, as your heart splintered within your chest; its foundations shattering and leaving you only able to gape in its wake. Coldness entrapped your body as the remaining petals of the flower within your hand shrivelled and wilted; the once luminescent petals forming a pathetic grey upon your palm. You simply nodded, zoning out and pulling yourself away from Erik’s words as he spoke, unable to hear him any further. You needed to distance yourself, distance yourself from him, from your feelings for him. It would be for the better; allow him to pursue whats-her-face without your claws of envy sinking into his shoulder blades, dragging him away from the semblance of happiness that he deserved. 

“I-I’m sorry Erik,” You stuttered, cutting him off suddenly as his speech screeched to a halt, his eyes widening and form freezing as you halted his words, “I need to go.” You wasted no time in bolting upwards, marching towards the distant lights of the house, not sparing him a single glance backwards. 

“Wait, Y/N-” He called, his voice catching in the breeze as he stumbled into pace behind you, “I’m sorry, did I upset you or-” 

“No, Erik, it’s fine.” You turned them, your hair fluttering before your eyes in the breeze as you watched him as he came to a halt, his face stricken, mouth agape as he stared at you, “You should go with Charles assistant, I bet she’s lovely..” You turned again immediately, sighing in relief as the house grew closer.

“No Y/N, I was actually going to ask if-” 

“Erik.” You snapped, turning once again, for the final time. The levity of your voice brought him to an instant pause, shock prevalent upon his features. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you can go with whoever you want to. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Oh.” Erik was still, his voice low as he watched you, his brows low and his mouth downturned; he seemed, almost, disappointed. Though, his emotional disparity was not your responsibility anymore, “Well, okay, I will then.”

You nodded, a finality; a shallow smile painted itself upon your features, “Good. I look forward to meeting her.” You didn’t wait to see his reaction, making the final journey to the house before swinging open the door and rushing to your room- where you could comfortably wallow in the drawls of your own heartbreak. 

That had been over a week ago; your initial excitement for the formal had dwindled entirely leaving you staring at yourself bleakly as you fiddled with an earring, Raven had continued to watch you; eyebrows raised and mouth curling with mirth. 

“This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Raven! He said himself-”

“No, but,” She paused, collecting herself for a moment before leaning towards you, hands clasped upon her lap, “You haven’t seen him.” 

“Of course, I have-” 

“Okay, When was the last time you saw him?” 

You laughed, eyes tight as you refused to make eye contact with her, “I saw him at breakfast this morning.”

“Sure, when was the last time you spoke to him?” 

Pausing, you cleared your throat, she had caught you there. Your own immaturity dawned upon you as you spoke your confession, embarrassment creating a heave in your chest.  “At the lake, last week.” 

“That’s what I thought- I mean, that man is a brooding asshole on the usual day, but since he supposedly professed his feelings for someone else to you? He’s been miserable, wandering the halls like a kicked puppy; if he’s even capable of resembling that.” 

Shaking your head, you huffed, turning to take a hasty swig from your own glass of preparatory champagne, “Maybe she rejected him after all.” 

“Sure, Y/N-” 

Suddenly, as the brevity of the reality which was Erik bringing another woman to the formal, a wicked realisation dawned upon you. “I need a favour.” You blurted, turning to her abruptly. 

“Okay..’

“You’re bringing Hank, right?” 

She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.” 

“I need to borrow him.”

“What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

You shrugged, smirking at her; though the sweat at the back of your neck and legs couldn’t be denied, “I just- want to cover my own back, he can’t think that I’m moping and sad over him and another woman-” 

“But, you are.” 

Only sparing Raven a glare as she chortled, you continued, “I just want to let him see that I have my own date, and that… it could’ve been him. To everyone else, we’ll just be going as friends, but- Erik doesn’t need to know that.” 

Before the danger of your plan could pull your mind to a halt, before it could allow your conscience to screech at its own breaks- Raven was up, crossing the span of the dressing room and pulling the door open; telling a nearby student to find and fetch Hank. The young boy nodded obediently, breaking into a sprint down the hallway. Within minutes, Hank appeared in tow; flushed and breathing heavily as he burst into the corridor, half-dressed in his suit as his tie hung loose around his neck. 

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Hank panted, a hand planted upon the door frame as he surveyed the room; confusion followed within his features as he surveyed the two of you safe and seated comfortably. Only then, did fear truly grace his features; the dread evident within the tightening of his fingers and grit of his teeth, “What’s…going on?” 

“Sorry, Hank, but you will now be attending the dinner with Y/N.” 

“What?” He spat, his tall frame stalking into the room as he ensured the door was securely closed before truly entering the room, “No offence, Y/N, but I don’t understand- do you want me dead?” 

“What?” You gasped in turn, rubbing a hand against your forehead as you shook your head; Raven had nodded, laughing at his fear as she silently agreed, “Why would you die?” 

The ability to do so being somehow possible, Hank’s voice sunk to a hiss, bowing towards the two of you as sweat formed visibly upon his brow, “Have you seen Erik recently? He would kill me.” 

“Exactly,” Jeering, Raven opened the decanter upon the small table between you, pouring Hank a brimming glass of champagne before refilling her own, he took the drink readily once she offered it to him, taking a gusty swallow as his skin steadily grew paler, or even, bluer. “We need to show him what he’s missing out on-” 

“No, no.” Shaking his head hastily, Hank held his hands up before him, slowly backing towards the closed-door; a supposed attempt to make a fast escape, “I am not being a pawn in your fucked up-” 

“Hank.” Raven whined, cocking her head to the side and moving to expose the skin of her leg; pouting at him endearingly- you could only fake heave at her antics. “Please, for me? Once they’ve sorted their mess out-” 

“Hey-!” 

“We can have a dance together.”

Hank froze, the frost that had covered his cheeks instantly warming with the rush of blood as he blushed, his face taking the features of a dazed fawn as he practically melted beneath Raven’s gaze. He soon recovered though, turning towards you and sighing, scratching at the base of his head, “Fine, I will enter with you and we can have a dance, that is it-” 

“Thank you, thank you.” You interrupted him with a rush of skirts and arms flinging around his neck, peppering kisses to his cheek as you squeezed him, “You are my saviour” 

“Okay, okay-” He laughed, holding you at arms length as to protect the ironed linens of his shirt, a genuine smile lining his cheeks, “I need to finish getting ready, but I’ll meet you outside the entrance at quarter past seven.” 

“Quarter past? Hank it starts at seven.” You pursed your lips in confusion as he only grinned at you, a twinkle shining in his eye. 

“Exactly.” He grinned as Raven gasped, breaking into applause beside you, bravoing Hank humorously as you pulled away from him, to which Hank bowed sarcastically, hand before his stomach like a true guardsman. “We need to ensure that he sees Y/N- so, we enter late; put on a little show.” He wiggled his hips as he spoke, grinning at you fake-enticingly; to which you could only fake-vomit, sticking a finger in your mouth and gagging exaggeratedly as Raven laughed beside you. 

Hank departed then, a wave of a hand to you and a cheesy smile at Raven; that is when the plan jumped into action. Raven surged from her lounged position instantly, moving to check you over; your outfit, your hair, the words you would procure upon entering the formal. With a kiss on the cheek and a wink, she left at exactly 6:55; the door slamming behind the trails of her gorgeous dress. 

Thus, leaving you with a harrowing twenty minutes to stew on your decisions. 

Would Erik even care? Or, would he be too occupied with his supposed date? Gazing at the beauty of her dress and the delicacy of her skin instead of your own, honoured that he could serve as her date instead of wishing he could be yours. You forced yourself to break eye contact with your own reflection; disgusted at the pathetic twist of your features as nerves flooded your guts. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head; if anything, Erik would come to the realisation that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore and this sordid affair would end- you would go back to being best friends, you would swallow the bitter taste of rejection and smile through the burning fires of jealousy as he inevitably grew closer with his date for the night. Maybe the two of you would replace each other entirely, after all. 

At exactly 7:10, you left the room; bridled with nerves as you could do nothing but stare at the same features of the room you had been preparing yourself in for hours. Breath in, breath out- the sound of your heels clicking against the empty hallway resounded upon the halls as the inhabitants of the house were located within the main hall- the sound of conversation and light acoustical music a distant mirage. 

As you walked, you surveyed the walls of the buildings you called home- the murals upon the walls and the gorgeous art-pieces that the residents had collected throughout the years lining the walls. In the rotten depths of your mind, you wondered if this would be it- if you would have to leave, unable to sleep only doors down from Erik and the woman he would soon call his lover. The thought of it made you nauseous, made your knees beg to buckle from the strain of exasperated grief. Grief of what could have been if you had just stayed quiet, content; if you could have just been comfortable within the throes of friendship. 

At the end of it all, you missed him. You missed everything about him- his inherent goods and bads. His anger and his joy; his technicolour darks and lights. You missed the sharp lines of his face, the way his hair curled without the harnessing of a pomade, the prickles of the hairs upon his forearms and the curve of amusement within his lips. 

It took everything within you to not detour to the comforts of your bed, to crawl under the covers and hide for the foreseeable- wait for the inevitable to blow over, for Erik to enter your room and laugh at your sad state, just as a friend would; with no romantic-baggage whatsoever. 

However, before your jailbreak attempt could successfully be enacted; Hank emerged from the adjoining hallway, hands in his pocket and a meagre smile upon his face, “Thought I’d meet you here before you decided to run away.” 

Nodding, you sighed; managing a grateful smile his way as he removed his hands from his pockets and offered his arm to you, to which you took it and began to walk towards the hall’s entrance, “I was just working up the courage to do that.” 

Hank laughed, the motion jostling you slightly as you stopped in front of the entrance, the door was closed; the event readily in motion behind it, “We can back out if you want, you can go in now alone and I’ll come down in a few minutes?”

Shaking your head, you tightened your grip upon his elbow; smiling tightly, your voice cracked slightly as you began to speak, the thought of facing Erik and his date alone the most terrifying imagery in that moment, “I can’t go in there alone.” 

Hank turned to you then, concerned evident within the downturn of his mouth, his hands moved to your shoulders; the weight of them comforting as he sighed, “If anything happens I- we will be there, okay?” 

Nodding, you smiled almost-tearfully up at your friend, your lips curling with emotion as he jostled you; attempting to squeeze some semblance of humour from your state. He beckoned you forward then, one hand upon the door handle and the other curling to rest upon the curve of your waste; that is how you greeted the entire room.  

Due to the old-age of the building, the door creaked almost obnoxiously, the sound ostentatious despite the constant hum of the room. Immediately, you made eye contact with Raven; snorting into her glass as she failed to hide her amusement. Then Charles, his hands hanging in mid-air as if he was performing a speech to the group before him; though his face changed during the moment of eye contact, his eyebrows instantly raising and his lips curling into a smile as he looked into your mind, then to the hand upon your waist and finally to a point across the room. 

You followed his gaze, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat as it landed. 

There, stood Erik; the object of all of your desires, and your afflictions. His demeanour differed greatly from the others in the room, his face was blank; impassive as he met your eye; his hair was neatly slicked back and he adorned a clean, striking black suit. Charming. However, his body language told a different story- the grip at which he held his glass was ironclad, his lips were tight and cheeks haggard; an exact juxtaposition to the sharp cut lines of his suit. 

But, as you searched the space beside, behind and above him; the only thing that you could notice was that he was completely alone. 

Stood at the corner of the room, in his gorgeous suit with his exhaust-tinged eyes; he was alone. Not a date, of any shape or size or form, in sight. 

Your mind only allowed a halting, record-scratch oh fuck before you were herded towards the dancefloor- Charles welcoming the ‘happy couple’ to the crowd, sheer amusement threatening to crumple his confident form as he practically tittered. Hank only rolled his eyes, grinning at you amusedly as he tugged you into the entourage that was beginning to form. You couldn’t bring yourself to smile back. Your breath was quickening, panic flooding your chest as you realised that maybe, possibly you had read this whole situation entirely wrong. As you were whisked upon the dancefloor, a drink shoved into your palm and the waltz of fast-paced conversation already hastily beginning- you used every last essence of your will to build a somewhat passable facade, to not crumple in front of the crowd, to not run towards Erik and beg for his forgiveness, for his attention. 

But, oh, you had thought far too soon. Because, after all, you had garnered his attention the moment your heels resounded throughout the shocked quiet of the room. 

As you surveyed the crowd, Hank’s arm an all-encompassing weight upon your waist- you failed to stop your eyes from passing Erik’s form. He remained in that very same spot, as if he belonged nowhere else, as if he was sculpted upon the very walls of the building. His eyes were fixed upon your form; no matter the step, position or pose you took- his eyes never faltered from you, never wandered; even when Charles came to stand beside him, amusement towards his best friend tinted the rise in his cheeks. The two of them began to converse, the topic being of considerable tension; seeing as though Charles continued to look ever-amused, whilst Erik’s eyes finally dropped from yours- his face visibly swelling in anger as he glared at his shoes. 

“-Y/N? Sorry, Y/N?” 

Shocked, you blinked, turning back towards the conversation before you; two older women stared expectantly at you, you dug your mind for any recollection as to who exactly they were- maybe some form of charitable donors? After a series of agonising seconds, to which it felt like the entire room had gone silent; each participant waiting to see what was plaguing your mind, you spoke- smile cringing as you tilted your gaze towards the air just beside the woman, “Sorry, what was-?” 

“We were asking how long you and Professor. McCoy have been together?” Obnoxiously red-lipped woman-potential-rich-donor spoke, her lips stretching grotesquely as she smiled. 

“Oh, well-” 

“We’ve been dating casually for a few months.” 

“What-” 

“Oh, that is wonderful!” The woman spoke, clapping her satin-gloved hands together and bouncing on her heels. 

“Yeah..” Smiling airily, you ensured that oxygen was correctly being executed from your lungs; that you were definitely awake, alive and breathing. 

“It’s been a whirlwind,” Hank smiled, jostling you with the hand gripping your hip, “Between me and you, things are really starting to heat up-” 

Through the excited gasps of the women you realised with abject horror that Charles and Erik were edging towards your circle; Charles leading Erik with a clutch upon his elbow, to which Erik seemed to be fighting unapologetically. 

As if firing the perfect shot, at the perfect time and place, the red-lipped woman squealed at an obscene volume just as Erik entered perfect earshot, “Oh, just imagine, Y/N McCoy. It’s perfect-”

The sound of a glass shattering splintered throughout the room, halting the conversation and what felt like the very air you were breathing. Blood instantly began pouring from Erik’s hand as the surrounding partygoers jumped back in fear, the entire room watching with wide, halted eyes as he shuck the glass from his grip.

“Erik-” Trembling, you swallowed; feeling your heart hammer within your chest as you watched him, the loosening of Hank’s hand pulling and wrenching at the pit within your stomach. You had well and truly done it this time. 

Erik seemed to ignore you, shrugging off the onlookers that attempted to come to his aid; allowing the air beside your head one last scathing glance before he departed from the crowd, from the room entirely. Wasting no time in following him, you dumped your purse and drink into Hank’s arms before breaking into a full sprint; throwing any sense of formality to the wind as you shoved through the crowd whilst simultaneously calling to his retreating back. 

“Erik, please-” You called as you finally emerged from the crowd, the main doors slamming behind you as you stopped before him. His back was turned, feet poised as if ready to retreat, though he had stopped. Droplets of blood resounded against the linoleum, a steady flow of red dribbling from the cuts upon his hands, “Erik, you need to-” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Erik’s tone was demanding, his back clenching as he resolutely refused to turn, to face you. 

“What-”

Finally, he turned; spinning on his polished heel and stalking towards you- face practically carved from stone, his gaze bleeding into yours, “Why didn’t you tell me about you and McCoy?” He practically spat Hank’s name, the name convulsing from his lips. 

Scowling, you straightened your back; standing strong as you grit your teeth at him, “Why would that have been any of your business, Erik?” 

Scoffing, he backed away; scrubbing his non-injured hand upon the stubble upon his jaw, almost in disbelief, “Of course- why would it be?” He laughed sardonically, throwing his hands in the air and shrugging his shoulders. 

“What is your problem?” 

He seemed to still, to quiet; his throat bobbling heavily as his eyes bore into you- eventually, he looked away, lip clutched beneath his teeth, “You know what, nothing-” 

“Okay,” You nodded, feigning deep thought, “Let me rephrase then, why do you care?” 

Erik blinked, almost in disbelief, “Come on Y/N- you know exactly-” 

“-Because last I heard, you had a date for this-” 

“-Who told you that?!” 

“You!” You were shouting now, chest heaving at the patchworked conversation presented before you, “You did, Erik!” 

He was truly in disbelief now, shaking his head and struggling to find the words; eventually he settled for one, insignificant word. He practically drawled it, set up a board and sketched out the word at agonising speed, “What?”

Laughing, mostly to yourself, you gestured towards him, “You told me.” At his silence, you opted to continue speaking, “At the lake, you told me you were going on a date with Charles’ assistant.”

“I never-” Erik groaned, hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed; visibly exhausted, “I know for a fact that I did not say that because-,” He was the one to laugh then, hacking at his chest as he forged his words, “-Because, you interrupted me, left and then haven’t looked at me since!” He seemed to check off the series of events on the fingers of his uninjured hand before waving his clenched fist in your direction, “So, I am assured in the knowledge that I did not say that, because I haven’t spoken to you in two weeks!” 

“Okay, well, I have looked at you-” 

“-No, you haven’t.” 

Slamming your mouth shut, you scowled, crossing your arms petulantly; he simply watched you, the turn of his mouth pulling in its usual smug fashion. “Y/N-” 

“Your hand is covered in blood.”

Smiling, he looked down at it, flexing his fingers before turning his gaze back towards you, “I know.” 

“So who did you come with then?” You shrugged, completely disregarding your worries regarding his hand, “Shouldn’t you be with her instead of-” 

“Y/N, you are completely missing the point… I didn’t come with anyone.” 

“Oh,” You breathed, desperately attempting to hide the relief evident within your exhale, “Why?”

“Because that night at the lake,” He exhaled through his nose; his eyes flitting in between your face and the wall as he breathed, he seemed to be trembling slightly as he conjured the words adjacent to his evidently racing thoughts, “I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me.”

“Oh.” You repeated dumbly, utterly gobsmacked at his words. 

“But, it’s now evident that McCoy beat me to it, so-” 

“Me and Hank aren’t together.” The words left you in a rush, you knew that your wide eyes mirrored Erik’s own perfectly; shock evident within both of your features. 

“Okay-” 

“I completely jumped to conclusions and I thought you were bringing a date, so I- I didn’t want to show up alone so I borrowed Hank…for the night.” 

“You borrowed Hank.”

“...Yes.” 

Erik suddenly burst into laughter; his face morphing to accustom the sudden change in emotion as he outrightly laughed at you. You could only stand there; slightly offended, slightly relieved at the upbringing of events. 

Erik had wanted to ask you to be his date. 

Did Erik have feelings for you?

“Okay, just to be clear, you weren’t asking me to the dinner as f-” Your words were abruptly cut off as Erik suddenly broke into a stride, marching up to you before placing his hands upon your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours completely, inhaling heavily as if he wanted to ingest you, taste you. You immediately kissed back with the same fervour, intertwining your fingers with the short hair upon his head and accustoming your senses to the scent of blood that was now smeared upon your cheeks. 

Eventually, unfortunately, he pulled away; gazing down at you with hooded eyes. You watched as he bit his tongue, the motion tightening his jaw as he stared down at you, vision unguarded; almost unsure. You knew you looked like something straight out of a horror story, blood smeared upon your cheek and the bridge of your nose- you could only sigh blissfully as he ran his fingers through the mess he had created, spreading it until his finger reached your lips. 

You both stilled; breaths catching in your chests. 

After a long moment, you nodded, your eyes soon fluttering closed as he began to spread the liquid upon your lips- the copper tang of his blood immediately permeating your senses. His eyes were practically drooping now; his irises blown out in pleasure. Keeping your eyes upon his; you gauged his every movement as you sucked his finger into your mouth, effectively cleaning it and your lips of his blood.  You knew in that moment that this was forever; this connection that had been forged between your souls, intertwined at each end and tightened right in the middle. Forged entirely from his very own metal.

[readingcherik]

Lift me from my preconceptions by LimerenceKing

Online dating is hard enough, but being both mutant and disabled made it much harder for Charles. He thinks he finally finds someone, and sets out to go on a date with her. // Author here, I’m disabled and I’ve seen a few fics try this sort of story, but I’ve decided to give it ago with my help from my own perspective. Here’s an actual disabled Charles fic for you :)

[gerec]

best long fics? i've only been reading oneshots lately. i like cherik which can be a book too.

To make this list even a tiny bit manageable I'm choosing to define 'long' as over 100k. There are a lot of superb fics on this list, Anon; happy reading!

Nine Eleven Ten by Subtilior (WIP - the definition of a fandom classic with fantastic worldbuilding)

Years later, Charles would remember that day. Sometimes he would wonder if he could have changed anything; other times he would despair over what he had since become. But he would always hold the image in his mind: Raven, laughing, and his thoughts flying alongside her on strong wings, silver-gold through the winter air. Once upon a time.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity, Pangea

Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

A Curious Carriage of Crystal and Cold by Etharei

Charles, a miner from a poor village in the countryside, saves the life of Erik Lehnsherr, scion of a successful business family and the richest man on the planet Eisen. Charles is a telepath and somewhat anxious about it, while Erik abstains from relationships because the lights flicker and doors open and electronics vibrate when he gets too excited.

Also featuring a long-suffering sister, a foul-mouthed bodyguard, and a best friend with a heart that is definitely not gold.

In which there are princes, spaceships, long journeys, and old secrets uncovered. (An AU sci-fi fairytale)

Tessellation by nekosmuse

He had been following Xavier's career for years. He had read and reread and reread again everything the man had written. He had tried, on more occasions than he could count, to recruit Xavier into the Brotherhood, but each request for a meeting had been denied. Aside from his work, no one knew anything about Xavier. Not what he looked like, not the full extent of his power--though from what little they did know, he was by far the most powerful telepath in existence--and not what his intentions were.

The man was a recluse. As far as Magneto knew, Xavier had never once stepped foot outside his impenetrable Westchester manor. And now he was scheduled as the keynote speaker for the largest pro-mutant conference in the world.

The Marriage Bargain by kianspo

Erik Lehnsherr had made a fortune manufacturing steel in Europe. When he wished to expand to the New World, he discovered that no one would do business with him unless he was affiliated with one of the First Families, the creme de la creme of the NW aristocracy. When Lord Marko holds an auction to give away his 14-year-old stepson's hand in marriage, Erik sees his chance and takes it. He has no interest in Charles himself, but now that he has him, can they make it work?

Everyday Love in Stockholm by tahariel

Prompt: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.

His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.

The Proper Care of Actors by afrocurl, Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etharei (series)

Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

The Associates by ikeracity, Pangea (series)

Being a mob boss' associate has its ups and downs. Having sex in the back of a limo on Valentine's Day is definitely one of the ups.

The Sonnet Series by afrocurl, nekosmuse (series)

Erik Lehnsherr is a visiting professor at Columbia University, as well as an acclaimed and award winning poet. Charles Xavier is a lead researcher with the Genetics Department who is well on his way to tenure. But what happens when Charles has to cancel a class because half his students abandon him in favour of a mysterious new English Lit professor? Naturally he ends up sitting in in the class, where Professor Lehnsherr mistakes him for a student. It's really too bad Erik has such a strict policy against dating students. It's also too bad Erik doesn't seem to know how to use Google.

Space Oddity by MonstrousRegiment, Pangea (series)

Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they've been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It's alright, though, he'll cope.

It doesn't help, though, that he's in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.

Nation Building and other Diplomatic Negotiations by Pookaseraph

With the recent passage of a submissive registration law in the United Kingdom, there are now only two industrialized nation with a relatively stable government to have neither a mutant nor a submissive registration law. Erik Lehnsherr, the newly minted King of Genosha, and his Prime Minister Emma Frost intend to take advantage of this turn of events to bring the Xavier Institute to the island nation of Genosha. They both know bringing Charles Xavier, the noted activist of mutant and submissive rights, to the island will necessarily politicize the man, and create all manner of complications. With a constitution not yet finalized and external threats to Genoshan security all around them, Erik, Emma, and Charles will fight for what they believe in to shape Genosha into what it should be.

Do You Love Me by cgf_kat

Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.

Ritual Self-Torture by TurtleTotem

For the following prompt: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.

He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.

But I Would Walk Five Hundred Miles, And I Would Walk Five Hundred More by luninosity (series)

In which Charles isn't really an escort, Erik thinks he only wants a one-night stand, everybody's got a past, and there's quite a lot of sex on the way to the happy ending.

We Met At The Park by StarRose

AU, no powers, based on McAvoy's performance as Martin in Murder In Mind. Unable to sleep one night Erik takes a midnight walk in the local park. He finds himself being followed and propositioned by a rent boy named Charles, and begins to fall rather rapidly for his charms. Charles however has never known what love is, and doesn't recognise it even when it's staring at him in the face. As for Erik, he doesn't realise a creeping illness is slowly affecting Charles, and his dark past is something he couldn't have imagined.

Strict Machine by euphorbic

When Professor Charles F Xavier accepted a visiting professor position in Arizona, he did so in order to be geographically closer to his sister. What he did not expect to find was the living, breathing specter of the sportbike gang-oriented past he’d been trying to put to rest.

A tale of sport bikes, consequences, and sacrifice.

MAD Dogs by ClarkeStetler, Goosenik (series)

Charles and Erik are (loosely) friends with benefits. They don't share personal details, last names, or anything concrete about their lives. This is ruined rather spectacularly when Charles gets recruited by the Mutant Apprehension Division of the FBI. Surprised is a bit of an understatement for their reaction to finding themselves partnered up and sent out on cases with the team.

Bit of a detective fic? Really just an excuse for us to play around with MAD (Mutant Apprehension Division) that we created in Playing House.

A Doll's House by lachatblanche

Welcome to the Dollhouse, where all your dreams and fantasies come true. At a price. Based on the TV show Dollhouse.