X-Men Oneshots

Healing Hands (Charles Xavier)

The aftermath of the battle still lingered in the air as the dust settled, the once chaotic battlefield now eerily silent. Y/N made her way through the rubble, her mind focused on the task at hand. Charles had been injured, and she had been assigned to patch him up. Her heart pounded in her chest, not because of the battle, but because of the man she was about to care for.

Charles Xavier, the brilliant and compassionate leader of the X-Men, had always been a figure of admiration and respect in Y/N's eyes. But lately, something more had started to stir beneath the surface. She had brushed it off, convincing herself that it was nothing, just the stress of working so closely with him. Yet, every time they locked eyes, every time his soft voice spoke her name, it became harder to deny the pull between them.

She found him sitting in a quiet corner of the medical wing, his wheelchair positioned near the window. The soft glow of the setting sun cast a warm light across his face, making him look even more serene than usual despite the cuts and bruises marring his skin. His white shirt was torn, revealing a gash along his shoulder, and his usually pristine appearance was marred by the remnants of the battle.

"Charles," she said softly, announcing her presence. His head turned, and his blue eyes met hers, a tired but genuine smile forming on his lips.

"Y/N, thank you for coming," he replied, his voice gentle despite the obvious exhaustion.

She knelt beside him, her medical kit in hand. "I wouldn't leave you like this," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady as she began to assess his injuries. Her fingers brushed against his arm, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She told herself it was just nerves, just the intensity of the situation, but deep down she knew it was something more.

Charles seemed to sense it too, though he remained silent, watching her with an unreadable expression as she worked. His skin was warm beneath her touch, and the closeness between them made the air feel heavy.

"You really shouldn't push yourself so hard," she said, trying to focus on the task at hand as she cleaned the wound on his shoulder. "You know you're not invincible."

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, though it was tinged with pain. "I'm aware. But sometimes, the cost of leadership is pushing beyond what's comfortable."

She bit her lip, her heart aching at the weight of his words. "You don't have to carry everything on your own, Charles. You have people who care about you, who want to help."

His gaze softened, and he reached out, placing a hand gently on her arm. "I know, Y/N. And I'm grateful for it... for you."

The words hung in the air between them, and Y/N felt her breath catch. The way he looked at her, the sincerity in his eyes—it was more than just gratitude. She could feel it, a tension that had been building for months, maybe even years. It was as if all the unspoken words, all the lingering glances, were finally bubbling to the surface.

Her hands stilled on his shoulder, and she looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Charles..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "is there something you want to say?"

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty for a brief moment. But then, as if a dam had finally broken, he spoke. "I've been trying to ignore it, to push it aside. But I can't anymore, Y/N. There's something between us, something I've been denying for too long."

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her mind racing. She had felt it too, but hearing him say it out loud made it all too real. "I... I've felt it too," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But I didn't think—"

Before she could finish, Charles reached up, his hand cupping her cheek. His thumb gently brushed against her skin, sending a wave of warmth through her. "You've always been more than just a colleague to me, Y/N. You're someone I care about deeply, more than I probably should."

Her breath hitched at his words, her body frozen in place as she stared into his eyes. The vulnerability there, the raw emotion—it was overwhelming. For so long, she had pushed aside her feelings for him, telling herself that it was impossible, that he would never see her that way. But now, here they were, the truth laid bare between them.

Slowly, as if testing the waters, Y/N leaned in. Her lips hovered inches from his, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. "Charles," she whispered, her breath mingling with his, "I—"

His lips met hers before she could finish, the kiss gentle yet full of the passion they had both been suppressing for so long. It was a release, a culmination of everything they had kept bottled up, and it left her dizzy, her senses overwhelmed. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, while her fingers found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if afraid to let go.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Charles rested his forehead against hers. "I've wanted this for so long," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But I didn't want to complicate things between us."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing. "Things have always been complicated, Charles. But I don't want to deny this anymore. I don't want to deny us."

He smiled then, a soft, tender smile that made her heart swell. "Neither do I."

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of their unspoken feelings was lifted. As Y/N resumed tending to his wounds, the air between them was no longer filled with tension but with the warmth of something new, something real. And as she wrapped the final bandage around his shoulder, she couldn't help but smile.

They had both been through so much, but now, together, they had found something worth fighting for—each other.

4o