X-Men Oneshots

Meeting the parents (Erik Lehnsherr)

The air was thick with tension the moment I stepped into their home. Her parents' eyes, cold and scrutinizing, fixed on me as if they knew what I was capable of without even speaking a word. I could sense it—the silent disapproval, the unspoken fear that lingered beneath their polite facade. I'd seen that look too many times in my life.

"Erik, this is my father, Richard, and my mother, Lillian," Y/N introduced us, her voice steady despite the icy atmosphere.

I extended a hand to Richard, but he hesitated before giving me a limp shake, as if touching me too long might somehow be dangerous. Lillian's gaze swept over me with barely concealed disdain. They already knew who I was. They had to.

"Lehnsherr," Richard finally said, barely disguising the disdain in his voice. "Quite a...reputation."

I smiled, tight-lipped. "People talk."

"Yes, they do," he replied, his tone thick with meaning. "Especially about...mutants."

There it was—the crack in their politeness. I felt Y/N stiffen beside me, and I glanced at her, but she remained calm. It's one of the many things I admired about her: that inner strength.

Lillian's sharp voice cut through the room. "We've heard of the things you've done, Erik. You think that makes you worthy of our daughter?"

"Mother—" Y/N started, but I held up a hand.

"I'm not here to prove my worth to you," I said, my voice low and steady. "Your daughter already sees it."

Richard crossed his arms, staring me down as if that would somehow intimidate me. "You think you can just walk in here and we'll accept you? After everything?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything?"

"People like you—" Richard began, but Y/N's voice rang out, strong and cutting through the thick air.

"People like him? You mean people who have been hunted, hated, and feared for existing?" Y/N's eyes burned with anger as she stepped forward. "Erik is a good man, whether you want to see it or not."

"Y/N, you don't understand," Lillian said, her voice trembling with thinly veiled anger. "He's dangerous."

Y/N turned to her mother, her voice steady. "What's dangerous is your ignorance, Mom. Erik has done what he's had to do to survive. And I love him."

The words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. For the first time, I saw her parents falter. They hadn't expected her to fight back like that.

"Y/N—" Richard started again, but she cut him off, stepping closer to me, her hand finding mine.

"No. You don't get to do this," she said, her voice fierce. "You don't get to judge him based on your fears. You raised me to stand up for what I believe in, to fight for those I love. That's exactly what I'm doing now."

Her hand tightened around mine, and for the first time since stepping into that house, I felt something shift. A part of me, the part that had built walls for years, softened. Y/N was fierce, unyielding in her loyalty to me. And I loved her for it.

"I think we've heard enough," I said quietly, stepping toward the door, pulling her gently with me. "You have a choice. Either you accept us, or you don't. But either way, I won't let her be made to feel ashamed for loving me."

The tension in the room was suffocating, but Y/N's hand in mine was the only anchor I needed. Her parents stared at us, their faces unreadable, but I didn't care.

Without another word, I led her toward the door. The cool night air hit us as we stepped outside, and I could finally breathe again. We made our way to the car in silence, but I could feel the weight of everything between us—her defense, her strength, and the way she stood by me when no one else had.

I opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in, still fuming. The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable, but it buzzed with unsaid words. I rounded the car and climbed into the driver's seat, closing the door with more force than necessary. My grip tightened around the steering wheel as I stared ahead, feeling the residual anger thrumming through my veins.

For a few moments, neither of us said anything. The hum of the engine was the only sound, the darkened road stretching out before us. Then, finally, she spoke.

"Erik, I'm sorry about them," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

I shook my head, my jaw clenched. "You have nothing to apologize for. They don't understand."

"They don't want to understand," she corrected, her voice hardening. "But that doesn't mean they get to treat you like that."

I glanced over at her, my chest tightening. She was fierce, loyal, and so damn strong. "You didn't have to defend me like that."

Her eyes met mine, her gaze unwavering. "Of course I did. I love you, Erik. And I'm not going to let anyone—least of all my parents—make you feel like you don't deserve to be loved."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. For years, I had believed that love was a luxury I couldn't afford, something out of reach for someone like me. But here she was, fighting for me, standing beside me when the world would sooner turn its back.

I reached for her hand, my fingers intertwining with hers. "I don't deserve you."

She gave me a small, sad smile. "Yes, you do."

The road stretched out ahead of us, dark and endless, but I didn't feel the same sense of isolation I had before. With Y/N beside me, I knew we'd face whatever came next—together.

As I pulled the car onto the road, her hand still in mine, I felt the weight of the night lift just a little. Maybe the world wasn't ready to accept us, but as long as she was with me, I didn't need the world's acceptance.

I just needed her.