Magneto X Reader
Premise- Set around the timeline of X-men red, Erik decides it’s ultimately his time to retire despite discouragement. Along with his leave from Krakoa, he breaks off your relationship to him in favour of isolating himself.
Corrections- yes I know (SPOILDERR!!) that Erik dies in xmen red before he gets to fully settle down in the autumn palace so I will be diverting from that plot point. He hasn’t fought and actually stayed his old ass home lol.
Few things- Maus is an affectionate term used by Germans- mainly for their loved ones. Hurt/comfort (I know, again.)
The rain on Arrako was nothing like Krakoa. An unforgiving wrath, unlike the gentle drops of dew rolling off fertile leaves back home.
You hadn't thought about Krakoa these last few months, hell- you'd not been there enough to miss it, not after Erik announced that his retirement included respite from both you and the beloved nation he helped grow.
This unrelenting storm was merciful in comparison to the grief he left you to deal with alone. Decades spent fighting by his side, arguing with him about his swaying beliefs until he finally stabilised into the leader everyone knew and revered only to be coldly pushed to the side in favour of isolation he swore he deserved. You knew he didn't want to be left alone. Erik was trying to save you from him. As always, it backfired.
When he left for retirement you were instantly hired on missions, your gravity mutation was useful but it wasn't your prime, your prime sparked when the X-men were all together as a family. Without them, you pushed and moulded yourself into a disposable machine.
And now, without Erik on top of it all, you slowly shrunk into yourself.
The bedroom Erik once slept in beside you became a grave of sickeningly sweet memories, the cedar-wood and bergamot infused pillows woke you before you had a chance of closing your eyelids an inch, instinctively reaching for the warmth of his body only to be met with cold sheets.
The kitchen felt hollow in the mornings without the floating utensils he'd joke around with or the soft flickering of book pages he busied himself with on peaceful mornings and somehow, the black coffee he loved had staled in the air, spoiling your appetite before you had the chance to consider eating anything.
Now, out of your prime, without your friends that you continuously pushed away and without motivation to fight anymore your pride collapsed and you took off to Arrako where you knew Ororo was ruling in. Other old friends resided there but they weren't quite your focus.
Even through the cold and violent whips of wind, you pushed, knowing the physical neglect on your body gave you little time left.
Your bones shuddered as your clothes clung to you, beads of rain and tears rolling down your numb face.
The Autumn Palace stood tall and proud, an architecture cold and sturdy enough to ensure you it was your Erik Lehnsherr. Oh your dramatic, theatrical Max. You could almost picture him creating his cosy little grave to slowly die inside.
You heaved short pained breaths as you clumsily knocked. The last one a faint slap against the door before you staggered against the porch stand, bracing as graceful footsteps padded towards the door.
You had a whole speech planned about abandonment, your pain, to dare him to gaze upon what he's done to you. Instead, your throat constricted when the door opened.
You rehearsed and replayed this scenario a billion times since he left you, in none of those versions did he look like that. Not angry nor the cold exterior of disappointment. Instead, his worn features twisted in pure devastation.
He whispered your name like he'd been punched.
You release a mangled apology, lungs frozen from panting through the cold wet journey. Your chest barely expanded and forced warbled sobs shuddering out of you.
He pulled you inside, hands frantically wandering from your cheek to your shoulder, waist, stomach. Checking hastily.
"Maus? What's wrong? What happened?" His slender fingers pushed wet strands from your face, frantic. "Are you hurt?"
You shook your head, parting your lips to speak. A traitorous breath latched onto a cry. "I-I tried"- you hiccuped breathlessly, the thunder rolling from the open door behind you.
Erik stilled, hands frozen on your cheeks.
"I tried so hard to leave you alone," you choke as if every word left your throat in sharp edges. "Thought if I left you alone long enough it would stop hurting-but- but"-
Your body finally caved in to the neglect, blacking out for a second.
He caught you with a frightened yell of your name.
Thankfully, you remained conscious, crying despite the collapse. "Why did you leave me? W-What did I do?”
Both arms firmly gathered up your soaked and shivering form into his chest. Up close, he could hear your teeth chattering, nimble fingers grasping at his shirt as if you could siphon his energy.
"Hate you..." you croaked repeatedly. "I hate you, I hate you..."
He swayed with you for a few moments before stilling, he sighed, unable to defend himself.
"You left me-" Your voice shrunk into a rasp. "You- You abandoned me.. why- why does everyone..."
"How long have you been living like this?" He carefully brushed his knuckles across your face. You couldn’t answer, not out of shame, more the epiphany that you've shattered him.
Your flesh, cold and sunken was moist with rain dew, face tilting up like a wilted flower seeking the sun.
When he realised you were too worn out to yell or weakly hit at him, he slipped an arm under your knees, the other firm against your back before scooping you up. You didn’t ask where he's taking you, too busy clinging for warmth.
Erik used his mutation to shut the door, muffling the distant crackling of thunder.
Despite you dripping all over his floors, he continued up the staircase. The interior heat soothed your jittering to a faint shake. The sensation painfully blissful after weeks of sleep deprivation.
Through your blurred vision, you could make out the soft golden lamplights through the hallway, down a small step and into a room he shouldered open.
Here, the scent of cedar wood and bergamot was strongest. This was unmistakably his bedroom. Your vision swayed as you caught the packed book shelves, the specific silk he liked to sleep on, small translucent drapes over the wooden canopy.
It resembled a feverish dream.
You almost dozed off against his chest until he placed you on the bathroom countertop. Erik left and murmured about grabbing a few towels and spare clothes.
The bathroom design resembled the outside of the palace, pristine, spotless and elegant. You could've laughed if you weren't on the verge of passing out. All this space for one man.
"Liebe," he settles a warm towel over your head and starts fluffing the damp away. You took control of the task.
“You think you can make it to the bed?” he asked, kneeling to pluck your shoes off.
"'S okay, 'm not that weak." You reassured with a smile he didn’t deserve.
You shrugged the soaked fabrics off your body with struggle, avoiding his gaze through it all.
Erik helped you dry off before handing you a sweater of his, the smooth material hanging off your shoulder and down your thighs.
Finally, you caught him staring down at your collarbones, ascending to your eye-bags, hollow cheeks and half lidded eyes glazed through.
"What have I done to you?" He slowly leaned in. You awaited an embrace, a kiss, maybe even waking up to realise this was all a dream.
Until he suddenly swept you off your feet.
It caught you by surprise, the room spun. "'Mm... Erik," you slumped, unable to argue.
"Hush now," you felt a firm kiss on your head, "before I summon healers to ride through this storm,"
The soft and warm quilts welcomed your back, your limp body sprawling uselessly. Your lips tugged in a comfortable smile yet Erik wasn't convinced.
"Hmm…”
Your eyes shot open as his palms bracketed your torso, performing a health inspection.
"Erik- please-!" You wriggled and slapped his hands off, glaring up at him with all the strength you had left. However all it did was melt his heart.
His words came out in restrained chuckles. "Merely checking, maus." The last his hands cupped were your cheeks, caressing the flesh that had been once plump, humming in deep thought.
"Let's have you eat something, hm?"
Before he could turn around, you snatched his hand and shook your head. "Please, Erik." you feverishly begged, "Don't go... just- I don't care, I don't even think I can stomach anything.” You thickly swallowed. “Just Stay..."
Still unconvinced, he pulled the cover and comforters off before climbing inside. “Fine, but we are going to figure this out once you wake.”
You helped yourself to him, using the little energy you had left to slot your head on his chest and cuddle his midsection. His body rumbled beneath you as he laughed at your audacious tugging.
“Cosy?”
His arms gently settled around you, one palm resting against the nape of your neck. His fingers curled into the skin to softly graze enough to numb your nerves.
Your eyelids grew heavier, melting under the caressing. “Mm… Erik…”
The other hand tugged the comforter higher against you, locking in heat to prevent a fever the next morning.
“Sleep, Liebchen…” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep despite the continuous movements of his fingers dragging across your nape.
The rain suddenly muffled, his brushing fingers and steady heartbeat filled your ears, reducing you to a napping puddle. You thought you’d never get rest like this unless it was the merciful arms of death.
“Showing up at my door like a drowned kitten,” his baritone drifted through the dim room. “And now you’re a purring mess… Ehrlich gesagt, was soll ich nur mit dir anfangen? Kleine Maus?”
