X-Men Oneshots

Unchained Minds (Hank McCoy)

The lab hummed with a low, soothing buzz, filled with the steady drip of chemicals, the soft whir of machines, and the faint scent of antiseptic. Y/N leaned against the metal counter, watching Hank McCoy—Dr. McCoy, to most—pour over his latest experiment. His large, fur-covered hands moved deftly as he adjusted the settings on a microscope, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Hank had always been the picture of control, of intellect, his brilliant mind never idle. But lately, Y/N had noticed something else in the way he looked at her, something that had been simmering under the surface for months. There was an unspoken tension between them, one neither of them had acknowledged—until now.

Her gaze lingered on him longer than usual, tracing the lines of his muscular frame, the blue fur that covered his body, and the sharp contrast between his beastly appearance and the soft kindness in his eyes. Despite his outwardly intimidating form, Hank was the gentlest person she had ever met, and that paradox fascinated her. He was a man of science, but there was a part of him that was untamed, and Y/N found herself increasingly drawn to that wildness.

"Everything looks stable," Hank murmured, his voice low as he made a note in his journal. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. "Is something on your mind, Y/N?"

She hesitated for a moment, her heart beating a little faster than usual. They had always shared a close friendship, but lately, her feelings had grown deeper, more complicated. She wasn't sure how to bring it up without disrupting the delicate balance between them.

But Hank's perceptive eyes never missed a beat. He tilted his head, his expression softening. "You've been quiet tonight," he said gently, moving a step closer. "Is everything alright?"

Y/N let out a breath, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve as she debated whether to speak. But the words came out before she could stop them.

"I've been thinking about us."

Hank's brow furrowed, and for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. He set his notebook down, stepping closer until the heat of his presence wrapped around her. "Us?" His voice was carefully neutral, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that she rarely saw.

She nodded, her pulse quickening. "Yeah. I mean... we've known each other for a while now, and I—" She paused, trying to find the right words. "I feel like there's something between us. Something more than friendship."

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Hank's usually composed demeanor wavered, his eyes searching hers as if trying to figure out if she was serious. He took a deep breath, and his voice was rougher than usual when he spoke again.

"I've thought about it too," he admitted quietly, his blue fur bristling slightly as if the admission made him nervous. "But I didn't want to... overstep. I wasn't sure if you'd ever see me that way."

Y/N's heart ached at the uncertainty in his voice. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, her hand reaching up to gently brush against his cheek. His skin was soft beneath the fur, warm and familiar.

"I do see you that way, Hank," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her confession. "I've just been scared to say it."

Hank closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. When he opened them again, there was a hunger in his gaze that she had never seen before. He reached up to cup her face in his large hands, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. "Because once we cross this line, there's no going back."

"I'm sure," she breathed, her heart racing as she leaned into him, her lips inches from his.