X-Men Oneshots

Hugging him

Charles:

The study was quiet, the only sound being the soft turning of pages as Charles poured over yet another academic text. He'd been at it for hours, and though you knew how much he loved his work, you couldn't help but notice how tense his shoulders were, how he hadn't taken a break all evening.

Without saying a word, you quietly approached him, your footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. Charles lost in thought, didn't notice you coming until you slipped your arms around his shoulders from behind, pulling him gently into your embrace.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with surprise but warmth.

"You've been working too hard," you whispered against his ear, your cheek resting against the side of his head. "I thought you could use a little break."

Charles sighed, leaning back into your embrace as if your touch melted away the stress he'd been carrying. "I didn't even realize how much time had passed," he admitted, placing one of his hands over yours.

"I did," you teased gently, giving him a soft squeeze. "You need to take better care of yourself, Professor."

He chuckled, a deep, comforting sound, and turned his head slightly to look at you, his blue eyes soft with affection. "I don't know what I'd do without you reminding me."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "That's what I'm here for."

For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that—Charles relaxing in your embrace, the warmth of your arms around him grounding him in a way that nothing else could. Eventually, he turned his chair slightly, just enough to look up at you properly.

"Thank you," he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude.

You smiled down at him, your hands still resting on his shoulders. "Anytime, Charles. Anytime."

Erik:

Erik stood at the window of your shared apartment, his posture rigid as he stared out into the night. You knew that look—his mind was heavy, burdened by the weight of everything he'd been through and everything he was still fighting for. Erik rarely let his guard down, even with you, but you could always tell when he needed someone to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Without a word, you approached him from behind, your footsteps soft. Erik didn't flinch or tense when your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. Instead, he let out a long breath, his muscles relaxing ever so slightly under your touch.

"Y/N..." he began, his voice gruff but filled with something softer underneath.

"I'm here," you whispered, resting your head against his back. "You don't have to say anything."

For a moment, he didn't move. The two of you stood in silence, the city lights flickering outside the window as you held him, offering him a quiet comfort that words couldn't provide. Erik's hand eventually moved to rest over yours, his grip firm but gentle.

"You don't have to carry it all alone," you said softly, knowing that he often did, even when he didn't need to.

Erik's breath hitched slightly, but he didn't argue. Instead, he turned slowly in your embrace, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability he rarely showed. "It's hard," he admitted, his voice low. "Letting someone in."

You nodded, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. "I know. But you're not alone, Erik. I'm with you."

He looked down at you for a long moment, his usually hardened expression softening just a little. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both protective and vulnerable.