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urdreamydoodles · 10 days ago

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X-MEN x FEM!READER

The X-Men Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Emma Frost, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Hank McCoy, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send it—not exactly. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s the way Logan’s been gone longer than expected, leaving you restless. Either way, you know it’s reckless. The second the picture sends, you can already hear his voice in your head: Darlin’, you got a death wish? But you know Logan, know that he’s a beast caged in skin, and there’s nothing he loves more than being provoked by you.

He’s at a dive bar when his phone vibrates. The place is crowded, a few bikers at his table arguing over a pool game. Logan isn’t paying attention—until he glances at his screen. The moment he sees you, bare and sinful, every muscle in his body locks up. His breath hitches, his grip on his beer tightening until the glass threatens to crack. The scent of his own arousal floods his senses, so sharp he’s sure the few mutants around can catch it. One of the bikers nudges him, saying something about his "weird face," but Logan’s already pocketing the phone, jaw clenched.

He needs to get out of here. He doesn’t get embarrassed—not exactly—but the heat that licks up his spine is too much, too distracting. Logan swipes his tongue across his teeth, exhaling hard through his nose as he stands. His voice is a growl, all gravel and heat. “Got somewhere to be.” His movements are stiff, his body thrumming with need as he shoves out of the bar, barely resisting the urge to snarl at the people in his way.

The second he’s outside, he presses a number on his phone. When you pick up, he doesn’t say hello. His voice is low, dangerous. “You got no idea what you just started, sweetheart.” His free hand flexes at his side, his control razor-thin. “You better be home when I get there. And you better be ready.” Then he hangs up, already making his way to his bike, his thoughts full of nothing but you.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

Remy is used to being desired. He knows the weight of hungry stares, the way people fall over themselves trying to get his attention. But you—you’re different. You make him ache. And you know it. Which is why you send the picture when you do, when he’s at a poker table, mid-game, surrounded by half a dozen people.

He sees the message light up his phone and, without thinking, checks it. The second the image fills his screen, his pupils dilate, his breath hitching just enough that the man across from him—some big-shot casino owner—narrows his eyes. “Something wrong, LeBeau?” Remy schools his features quickly, smirking as he locks his phone. “Non, mon ami,” he drawls, voice smooth despite the heat licking at his spine. “Just feelin’ a little… distracted.”

But he is struggling. His heartbeat is unsteady, his palms itching to touch, to grab. You’ve effectively thrown him off his game, and you know it. He shifts in his seat, stretching his legs out, forcing himself to focus. But his mind keeps circling back to the curve of your body, the way your skin looked in the dim lighting. His fingers twitch, itching to shuffle his deck, to channel all this pent-up energy somewhere before it burns him alive.

He doesn’t text back. No, that would be too easy. Instead, he waits until he’s out of the game, until he’s walking down the neon-lit streets of New Orleans. Then he calls you, his voice a lazy purr. “Ma belle, you really gon’ tease me like that?” He pauses, his smile slow, wicked. “Think you should be waitin’ by the door for me, chérie. Don’t want me comin’ in all impatient now, do you?”

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

Kurt is used to wanting. He has spent a lifetime longing for things he believes he doesn’t deserve—love, touch, a home. But then there’s you, and you make him greedy. So when his phone vibrates in the middle of a crowded hallway at the Xavier Institute, he doesn’t think much of it. Not until he sees what you’ve sent.

His tail flicks so fast it nearly knocks over a nearby vase. A choked sound catches in his throat, his golden eyes widening, pupils dilating. He should look away, should pocket his phone before someone notices. But instead, he stares, heat rushing to his face so quickly it nearly makes him dizzy. The image of you burns itself into his mind, searing and divine.

Someone calls his name, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, fumbling to lock his phone. His three-fingered hand twitches, his tail coiling around his waist as he forces a shaky breath. Gott im Himmel, you’re going to be the death of him. He can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears, can sense the way some of the younger students glance at him in curiosity. He clears his throat, tugging at the high collar of his uniform, muttering something about needing air.

The moment he’s alone, he teleports straight to your room, appearing in a burst of sulfur and smoke. His voice is hoarse, thick with something between reverence and hunger. “Liebes… do you have any idea what you have done to me?” He steps closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I hope you are prepared to confess your sins… because I am more than willing to be your punishment.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

Scott prides himself on control. It is all he’s ever known—containing his power, his emotions, his every sharp-edged want. But you? You make control feel like a curse. So when his phone vibrates in the middle of a team debriefing, he barely glances at it. Until he does. And then his world tilts.

His breath halts, heat rushing up his throat so fast it makes him dizzy. The conversation around him blurs, the sound of Logan and Ororo discussing strategy fading into static. He swallows hard, locking his phone, fingers tightening into a fist on his thigh. You are going to ruin him.

“Scott?” Jean’s voice pulls him back. He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says, voice just a little too tight. “I’m fine.” But he’s not fine. His skin is too hot, his thoughts spiraling. He adjusts his visor, as if that’ll help him regain some semblance of control. It doesn’t. He can still see the image burned into his mind, can still feel the ache you’ve ignited in him.

The moment the meeting ends, he heads straight to his quarters, his movements stiff, controlled. He doesn’t call, doesn’t text. Instead, he waits until he’s inside, the door locked. Then he pulls out his phone, staring at the image for a long, slow moment before finally responding: You just made a very big mistake, sweetheart. And you’re going to spend all night making up for it.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

Jean is used to knowing. She reads people as easily as turning a page in a book. But you—you manage to surprise her. When her phone vibrates, she’s mid-conversation with Ororo, standing in the bustling halls of the X-Mansion. She checks the message out of habit, and then—Oh.

The world around her vanishes. Her breath catches, her fingers gripping her phone tighter. Heat blooms beneath her skin, a slow, simmering thing. She locks her phone quickly, but not before Ororo arches an eyebrow, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “Something interesting?” Jean lifts her chin, feigning nonchalance. “Just a… distraction.”

But she is not unaffected. No, she can still feel the pull of you, the way you linger in her mind like a whispered temptation. She exhales slowly, steadying herself. You’ve always had a way of making her unravel, of setting her pulse racing with just a look, a touch. And now, with that picture—she knows exactly what you’re doing.

So she doesn’t text back. Instead, she closes her eyes, reaching out mentally, brushing against your thoughts with a teasing whisper: You’re playing a very dangerous game, darling. And you know I always win.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

Ororo has always carried herself with grace. There is a quiet strength in her, an effortless command of any room she enters. But when her phone vibrates, when she glances at the screen and sees you, bare and unapologetic in your teasing, even a goddess can stumble.

She is in the middle of the X-Mansion’s garden, surrounded by students tending to the plants under her guidance. The air is warm, the scent of rain lingering from a previous storm. But the second she opens your message, heat spreads through her veins like wildfire. Her fingers tighten around the phone, the wind around her shifting just slightly, enough for the nearby students to glance up in confusion.

With practiced ease, she takes a steady breath, forcing composure to settle over her. She locks her phone, tucking it away in the folds of her robe, but the image of you remains burned in her mind. She has faced gods and walked through storms, but nothing has ever made her this desperate. She exhales slowly, smiling at the students before dismissing them early.

Later, when she is alone in her room, she finally allows herself to look again, to savor. Then, with a smirk, she types out a message: You test the patience of a goddess, beloved. But I promise you—when I return, I will show you the consequences of such boldness.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

Rogue ain’t shy. Not really. But there are certain things she doesn’t expect—like her phone buzzing in her back pocket while she’s in the middle of a conversation with Logan. She pulls it out absently, expecting a mission update. But when she sees your name, when she opens the image—her whole body locks up.

"You good, kid?" Logan asks, eyebrow raised as she nearly drops the phone. Rogue snaps the screen down against her thigh so fast she nearly fumbles it. "I—uh—yeah! Peachy!" But she can feel the heat rushing to her face, burning down her neck. Logan narrows his eyes, but she’s already stepping back, waving him off. "I—uh—gotta go!" She turns so fast her boots squeak against the floor.

She beelines for the nearest empty room, slamming the door shut before pressing her back against it, exhaling hard. "Mon Dieu…" she mutters, staring at the phone again. The sight of you makes her stomach flip, makes her hands itch with the desire to touch—even though she knows she can’t. And maybe that’s what makes it even worse, the sheer torture of it.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard before she smirks, biting her lip. She types back, her accent thick even in text: Ya better be waitin' for me, sugar. ‘Cause I got some real pent-up frustration I need to work out.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

Erik is a man of control. He has spent his entire life bending the world to his will, shaping metal and fate alike with the force of his power. But when he sees your message, all that careful composure fractures like shattered steel.

He is in the middle of a political gathering, surrounded by dignitaries and mutants alike, discussing the future of mutantkind. He is calm, poised, his presence commanding the room. But then—his phone buzzes. And when he checks it—his grip on his glass tightens. The metal bends beneath his fingers, distorting under the force of his sudden, sharp desire.

He exhales slowly, willing himself to focus, but it’s impossible. His thoughts are consumed by the image of you, the sheer audacity of what you’ve done. He lifts his eyes, scanning the room, but the conversation has blurred into meaningless noise. He is no longer interested in politics. No, there is only you now, and the punishment you so clearly deserve.

Later, in the privacy of his chambers, he finally allows himself to react. He sets his drink down, removing his gloves with slow, deliberate movements. Then, he types a message: You are a very foolish woman, my dear. And I am a very dangerous man. I suggest you prepare yourself accordingly.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

Charles is used to knowing things before they happen. His telepathy grants him insight into the minds of others, makes surprises a rare thing. But you—you always manage to catch him off guard. So when his phone vibrates mid-lecture, when he absentmindedly glances at the screen—he nearly chokes.

His fingers tighten around the armrest of his wheelchair, his usually composed demeanor faltering for the briefest moment. He quickly locks the screen, but it’s too late—the image of you is seared into his thoughts. And worse, the faintest flicker of his reaction has echoed across his psychic link with you, letting you feel the way his breath hitched, the way his pulse stuttered.

He clears his throat, composing himself with practiced ease. "Shall we continue?" he asks smoothly, though his mind is miles away. The students remain oblivious, but you? Oh, you know. And Charles can feel your amusement through the bond you share, a teasing whisper against his mind.

Later, in the quiet of his study, he sends a message—not with his phone, but directly into your thoughts, his voice smooth, measured. My dear, if you wished to test my restraint, you have succeeded. But I fear you’ve also ensured that when I return, you will be left utterly undone.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

Emma Frost is not easily shaken. She has built an empire on her confidence, her ability to keep control in even the most delicate of situations. But when she receives your message, she very nearly gasps.

She is at a Hellfire Gala, surrounded by high society, diamonds glittering at her throat. The room is alive with conversation, champagne glasses clinking. She is draped across a velvet chaise, effortlessly poised—until she sees you on her screen. The way her lips part, just slightly, is the only betrayal of her reaction.

With a slow inhale, she tilts her phone away from prying eyes, locking the screen. But inside, her mind is already buzzing. You have nerve, sending this while she’s in public. It’s a power play, a challenge. And Emma does not lose. She takes another sip of champagne, a knowing smirk curling her lips.

Later, when she is alone, she finally lets herself look again, savoring the way you look—so tempting, so utterly hers. Then, with a slow, deliberate tap, she types: My darling, I do hope you enjoyed your little game. But let me make one thing clear—you are mine to tease. And when I return, I will remind you exactly why.

Wanda Maximoff aka. Scarlet Witch

Wanda has spent most of her life feeling like the world was just a little too unsteady. Magic crackles beneath her skin, her emotions tied too tightly to the fabric of reality itself. But when her phone vibrates in the middle of a very serious conversation with Doctor Strange, she has no idea the real chaos is about to begin.

She checks the message absentmindedly, but the second she sees you, bare and utterly wicked, the world around her tilts. The air shimmers—just slightly—like heat rising from pavement. Wanda sucks in a sharp breath, locking her phone quickly, but it’s too late. Strange is watching her with an arched brow, the flicker of mystical energy curling at her fingertips a dead giveaway.

“Are you alright, Wanda?” Strange’s voice is calm, but there’s a glint of amusement in his gaze. Wanda clears her throat, forcing her magic back under control, smoothing her expression into something composed. “Fine,” she says, a little too quickly. But inside, her mind is burning, and it’s all your fault.

When she finally gets a moment alone, she sends a message—not with her phone, but with her magic, a whisper of her voice threading into your mind: You have no idea the kind of spell you’ve just cast, my love. But don’t worry—I’ll break it soon enough. And when I do, you won’t be able to breathe without thinking of me.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

Pietro is always moving. His mind, his body, his thoughts—everything is fast, too fast for the rest of the world to keep up with. But when his phone buzzes, and he actually takes the time to check it, the impossible happens—he stops.

He’s in the middle of a conversation with Clint Barton, something about training drills, when he pulls out his phone. And then—bam. His mouth shuts, his brain short-circuits, and for the first time in years, he is frozen.

“...Pietro?” Clint frowns, waving a hand in front of his face. “You good, man?” Pietro’s fingers twitch, and suddenly, he is gone, zipping out of the room at impossible speed. The moment he stops—several cities away, in the middle of nowhere—he grips his phone, running a hand through his silver hair.

Then he smirks, his heartbeat pounding. He types back, quick as lightning: You are so cruel, bellezza. But don’t worry—I’ll be home in five seconds. Hope you’re ready for me.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

Hank prides himself on his intelligence, his ability to remain rational in even the most unexpected situations. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a scientific symposium, and he—without thinking—checks it, all rational thought leaves his brain.

His glasses slide down his nose. His usually eloquent mind is reduced to pure static. He should lock his phone, put it away, but instead, his blue-furred fingers tighten around the device as his brain short-circuits. A faint growl rumbles in his throat before he catches himself, quickly clearing it.

“Dr. McCoy?” One of his colleagues is staring at him, waiting for a response to a question he definitely didn’t hear. Hank straightens, adjusting his glasses, willing his heartbeat to slow. “Ah—yes. My apologies. I seem to have been... momentarily distracted.”

The second he’s alone, he finally allows himself to breathe. Then, adjusting his tie, he sends a message: My dear, I do hope you’re prepared to be thoroughly lectured on the consequences of distracting a scientist. In great detail. Preferably with a demonstration.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

Laura doesn’t get flustered. She doesn’t blush, doesn’t stammer. But when her phone vibrates, and she checks it in the middle of a mission briefing with Logan, something deep in her animal brain nearly malfunctions.

She sees the image, and every muscle in her body locks up. Her sharp, enhanced senses go into overdrive. Her claws almost unsheathe from sheer tension. Logan is talking, saying something about enemy patterns, but she hears none of it. The only thing in her head is you.

“Laura?” Logan’s voice pulls her back, and she snaps her phone shut, jaw tight. “Tch,” she mutters, shifting in her seat, pretending like she isn’t burning alive under her own skin. “Nothing. Keep talking.” But she’s not okay. She’s seething with the need to do something about this, now.

The moment the briefing is over, she finds the nearest exit, presses her back against the cold wall, and breathes. Then, she types—short, sharp, dangerous: You think that was funny? Good. Let’s see if you’re still laughing when I get my hands on you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

Wade is always unhinged. Nothing shocks him. Nothing catches him off guard. But when his phone pings in the middle of a mercenary bar, and he casually opens your message—his brain leaks out of his ears.

“Oh holy chimichangas.” His voice is too loud, and every thug in the bar turns to look at him. Wade barely notices, his masked face tilting down at his phone, staring. Staring so hard his mask is probably fogging up.

One of the mercs nudges him. “You good, Wilson?” Wade slowly lifts his head, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I have never been better. In fact, I am having a religious experience. Thank you for asking.” Then he stands—abruptly—phone clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

The second he’s outside, he’s already typing, fingers flying: BABE. BABY. LOVE OF MY LIFE. I AM ON MY WAY. DON’T MOVE. ACTUALLY, MOVE A LITTLE, STRETCH OR SOMETHING. MAYBE DO A LITTLE TWIRL. OH GOD. I’M RUNNING HOME IN SLOW MOTION FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT.

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laroserie · 9 months ago

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— Various x-men characters dating a non-mutant!reader

— characters ; Scott Summers, Peter Maximoff, Kurt Wagner, Hank McCoy

— version with others characters ; not out yet

— warning ; no particular tw. talk about self estimee and doubt. (as always author has not started reading the comics and their knowledge come from the different xmen cartoon and my hazy memories of the film <3) ( also no cartoon gif for peter because i couldn't find any ... is he even in any of the xmen cartoons ), author decided that Peter has self-confidence issues, also Peter part kinda slide tracked and has more about Peter and his struggle than him dating reader whose a human ... sorry! (his part is also a bit short ...)

— Scott Summers

Scott has no particular qualm around you being a regular human, he loves you just as you are, and nothing can change that. That said, Scott cannot help himself but be, patronising at time. In his mind, you being a human just make you be at risks, you can't defend yourself if you get attacked, by others humans or mutants. He doesn't view you as weak, but, he know how fleeting life is. He isn't the greatest at expressing his feelings, and notably his worry for you.

He will also be more protective than if he was with a mutant. And it show in him being at first very against you befriending any others x-men, he very much care for most of them and he loves you very much, but he doesn't want to have those two part of his life mix up. He doesn't want you to get in dangers because of his job, but he also doesn't want you to possibly endanger one of his mission, he wasn't capable of choosing between you and one of his mission. Not to say, you are as or more important than his mission, but he was responsibilities as a X-Men and he cannot forget about them. But that said, with enough asking and pleading, making him crack and let you meet his friends and fellow X-Men.

Talking about you interacting with mutants, Scott will not let any remarks about you - well not being one - slide. He knows and understand why his friends may feel wary of humans, he get it, but you are different. You are quite literally dating him - a mutant, it couldn't make any sense for you to be against them. Scott may let it slide the first time actually, but anymore than that, and he's making them do extra session in danger room - or they aren't allowed in it, depending on who.

In general, there isn't that much of a different between how he treat his mutant or non-mutant partner, he just will be more protective and worried for them. He doesn't feel particularly insecure in your relationship - because of his mutation or your lack of mutation.

Again, he doesn't have any problems with you not being a mutant - he more so has problem being a mutant, not in general of course, but in your relationship yes. Peter can't really give an answer as to why, but if he had to guess it was probably due to this father, and the fact that he didn't want to do anything like his father did, to you. The worst is, he know damn well he isn't anything like him but he can't help but think that way.

He feels like he's going to mess your relationship up, because of what he is. He try to play it off as if it was nothing, but it's a feeling that lingers in the back of his mind often. He never truly wished to be a regular human before, and he still doesn't, but he just want your relationship to be more normal. Which isn't really possible. Peter knows that, he also knows that you don't care, about that kind of thing.

He can mask his doubts and awful self-confidence with his quirky attitude, he can fool most people pretty easily - expect you. At some point, it get to point, where you have to sit down with Peter and try to have a conversation about it, at first he will just act dumb and pretend he doesn't get what you are talking about, but his facade cracks relatively fast.

You listen, his fears and doubts. You comfort him, and assure him, that everything is fine, you reassure him that weither your relationship is 'normal' or not it's the last of your problem. You love him, he loves you and that all that matter in your eyes.

Now, Kurt could be the one that has the most difficulty dating someone that is not a mutant. He could be scared to hurt you more than anything. He's stressing out about doing or saying the worst thing, that will just break everything. One of the reason why he is friend, with his friends is because they share at least one thing - they can all relate on one crucial part of their identity - them being mutant, it's one thing that link them all together and make it at least a little bit easier to connect. You lacking that, make it hard for him. He still loves you all the same of course, but he feels like not being able to share something so crucial is sad.

So he desperately try to make it up in some way, he looks everything he can about your interests to be able to share that with you, everytime you share something about your interests Kurt will make mental note of it. And he will share a lot about what interest him in return. If you speak an another language that he doesn't know, he'll try to learn it, after all what is better than learning the language of your lover! Kurt can even teach you some german if you want to!

He wants something to link the two of you together even more. It's something he heavily crave. To be linked to you, by more than just, your love for each others.

Kurt may feel insecure at time, that you may leave him for well, a regular human, that isn't blue, has five fingers on each hands - he will try to keep it to himself, but he isn't really good at that. His insecurity just overflow and he end up offhandedly asking you while you are hanging out, if you could prefer to be dating a human rather than him. Obviously, you tell him that you don't, and ask where did this idea came from. He feels reluctant to admit as to why he asked. He feels, ashamed ? After seeing your reaction, he feels a bit silly, and even more when you comfort him and tell him that you very much prefer and could always choose to date him more than anyone else just because they are human.

On a more happy note Kurt loves seeing how amazed you are by his mutation, you never really were around mutants before - there isn't actually a ton of opportunity to meet mutants and to know that they are mutants, even if antis mutant politicians like to make people believe the contrary - most humans he met, weren't exactly thrilled by his, but you are the exactly opposite. Even after being together for a while and getting used to his mutation, there is still this curiosity and shine in your eyes when he teleport for example.

He is by far, the most chill about your relationship and you not being a mutant while he is. Well, that is if we are talking about Hank, after he accepted his entire mutation and all, which we are, Hank pre-self acceptance is different deal.

But once, Hank is settled as a scientific and has member of the X-Men, and has fully accepted his mutation, he doesn't personally really care. But sadly, a lot of people seemingly do and that's one thing that annoy him. The worst is it come from both fellow mutants, even his friends and colleagues sometime! And from regular humans. He doesn't really get why people care about him dating a non-mutant or you dating him - a mutant.

He personally try to not let it get to him, and if it does he will do everything but make you suffer because of it. It most often will result in him shutting himself in his lab for a bit of time, to calm down.

And like others, he feels like he needs to protect you because, you are so ... weak in his eyes, not in a bad way of course ! But in comparison to him you are so small and fragile. This cause Hank to usually like putting his arms around you, around you waist or on your back, to show you that he is there, and to show people around that you are his, and that they shouldn't try to hurt you in anyway.

#i pulled up with the gifs .. yk that a long post #a magic piece ?#time to write every tags ever #xmen x reader #x-men x reader #x men x reader #marvel x reader #scott summers x reader #peter maximoff x reader #kurt wagner x reader #hank mccoy x reader #the beast x reader #nightcrawler x reader #quicksilver x reader #cyclop x reader #x reader

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midnightsunsfan · 6 months ago

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Hank McCoy x Reader

Warning: Smut! Transforming mid sex, P in V, Bondage, Virginity loss, Hank slightly hurting himself, A tadddd agression. (let me know if i missed anything)

Summary: You and Hank have always been close to having sex, but he’s always stopped you. He explained to you the first time he stopped you was that he was scared of harming you because he thinks he’ll transform while doing it. You tried to reassure him that you would be perfectly fine, but he refused. Now, he’s randomly told you something that shocks you a bit.

“I’m ready to have sex with you,” Hank says in his human form. He was staring at you from at least 3 feet away.

You both were in the lab. You were currently putting some papers back in a drawer, and Hank walked in.

You stared at him in disbelief. The papers still in your hand while you were frozen. You and Hank had been dating for 5 months, but you’ve never had sex.

You obviously understood and respected his decision. It was obvious he was scared of having sex for the first time too. You told him you didn’t think he would transform during it, but he had told you he’s accidentally transformed ever time he’s masturbated because of how overstimulated he was.

“On one condition.” He continued. You continued to blankly stare at him. “You have to cuff me to the bed.”

You were even more shocked after hearing that part. You stood there for a moment and finally placed the paper in there designed drawer.

“Uhm, Hank, are you sure?” You asked him, closing the drawer and stepping closer to him. He nodded in response.

“Yes,” He clenched his jaw nervously. “If-If youre okay with it, i want to be chained up so i wont be able to do anything to hurt you.” He added.

You chuckled a little at his response. “Okay. And when exactly are you planning to make this happen?”

“Now.” Your eyebrows raised at his answer. “Now?” You asked. He nodded again. “I-I designed restraints myself so it would be strong enough to hold me down if i transform.”

You look at him in surprise. “Alright.”

Now, you were currently on top of a half-naked human Hank. You both were only in your underwear and you were chaining his wrists to your bed frame.

“You locked the door?” You asked. “Yes.” You looked down at him after chaining his hands and smiled. “You look cute like this.”

He blushed at your comment and bit his lip. You turned around, your ass near Hanks face. Hank gulped nervously as you chained his legs to the end of the bed.

“Please, let me know if i hurt you.” You chuckle as you turn back around. “I highly doubt you’ll hurt me chained up like this.” you joke.

Hank clenches his jaw when you unclasp your bra. “You can always back out if you want.” You say, slipping your bra off.

Hanks face turns beat red when he sees your upper half completely naked on top of him. He shakes his head no and you feel the bulge in his boxers get bigger.

You smile down at him and place a loving kiss on his lips. “Okay.” You start grinding down on his bulge, placing your palms on his chest.

“D-Don’t tease me, please.” He exhales. You chuckle at yourself. You got Hank all riled up like this, and you felt pretty proud.

You climb down so that your face was a few inches away from Hank’s bulge. You slip your fingers under the hem of the boxers and pull them down. Not completely, but just enough so that his member pops out.

His dick did in fact pop out and hit his lower abdomen. Your mouth slightly opens a little, surprised at his large size. He stared embarrassingly down at you.

“Are you big because of your mutant power?” You ask, climbing back up at him. He shakes his head. “No, it’s..it’s natural.” He adds

You chuckle a little and place your hands on your hips, teasingly rolling down your underwear and throwing it across the room.

Hank’s dick practically jumps and he clenches his jaw again. “You ready?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods. You look back down and place the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You both let out a breathy exhale as you slip him inside. “Oh god..” You mumble. “Are you okay?” Hank quickly asks. You smile down at him and give him a slow kiss. “Of course.”

You slowly start sliding up and down on him. “Fuck.” You let out. Hank lets out breathy exhales everytime you go down. “Y/N..” He slightly moans.

“You feel so amazing.” He adds on. You start sliding up and down faster with more friction. Hank starts following your lead and grinds up everytime you go down.

“Hank.” You moan out. Hank bites his lip harshly when you start going faster. “W-Wait.” He groans out. You start going faster and that’s when you see his hair slightly turning blue.

“Y/N i-i can’t!” He moans out. You just start going faster. You start feeling his dick getting bigger and bigger. You also see Hank start getting blue.

“Oh god!” You moan, not stopping as his dick gets unbelievably big. You look up at Hank and see that he’s completely transformed.

He bears his teeth at you and growls. Hank breaks off the restraints on his wrists and wraps his arm around your waist.

“Wai- Hank!-“ You moan as he pushes you down on his cock. “I’m sorry.” He says lifting you back up and slamming you down again.

You moan loudly, grabbing onto his hair and curling your toes. “Wait!” you scream out. “I-I can’t.” he says, pounding into you aggressively.

You both are now moaning each others names and you feel yourself getting close. He feels it too. You grip tightly onto him and he claws at his own hands, pressing you down deeply onto his cock.

He cums inside of you and you start cumming to. He pushes you down onto him and he presses his chin into your shoulder with his eyes squeezed shut.

Your mouth is open, but there’s only tiny moans coming out as you feel him empty his guts into you. And god, it was a lot.

You both hold onto each other for awhile, catching your breathes. “Oh god, I-I’m so sorry.” He says letting go of you so he could face you.

You chuckle and exhale. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me.” You reassure him. He looks down at his ankles and breaks off the restraints. “I need to make better restraints..”

#hank mccoy #hank mccoy x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #marvel #charles xavier x reader #erik lensherr x reader #scott summers x reader #alex summers x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader

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egotisticaleverything · 6 months ago

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Pervy Young Hank HCs

[NSFW]

WARNINGS: Dubcon-ish elements, Hank being a nervous pervert, pantie stealing, pantie sniffing, Polaroids of you/reader used in… less than SFW ways, non-consensual up skirt photos, degrading kink, unedited, tell me if I left anything out!!

A/N: I know this may be OOC but I see nerdy boy and I think “hmmm what if I made him a pervy little FREAK” then I giggle kick my feet and give the internet my deranged thoughts. Enjoy.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Hank has always been nervous, around you especially. The minute you entered the mansion and he layed eyes on you his heart skipped a beat. Something about you was so alluring, but my lord this man was awkward about it. He was practically running away from you out of embarrassment.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t like you, oh no. Quite the contrary, he liked you a lot. Every week on laundry days you’d notice at least one pair of your underwear missing, you swore you had counted and made sure they were all there but they just seemed to disappear. Disappear into a locked drawer in Hank’s room, stashed right beside a photo of you from the staff pool party the year prior. And a photo from last years Halloween party, and Christmas, and- is that a Polaroid up your skirt? Dirty fucking pervert got off to anything to do with you, he’d probably jerk it to your x-rays if he had nothing else.

In his little stash he’s at least smart enough to not take your favourite pair of panties, no he’d never do that to you. But any other ones are fair game. He’d get off looking at your photos, your underwear practically glued to his face with how much he’s pressing it against himself, whimpering and whining like a little bitch. Every time a pair of your underwear starts looking your sent he slyly slips it back into the pile during laundry day, swapping it for another as the cycle continues.

“Oh fuck-“ Hank whined, your most recently worn pair of panties hugged his face as he shoved them into his nose, consuming your leftover sent as he stroked himself, his cock practically throbbing as it leaks beads of pre-cum. Through foggy glasses he eyes the photos of you layed upon his desk, he couldn’t help himself, more could he tell you. He was too far gone in this act, he couldn’t risk it too much. But god how he loved the concept of him getting caught, you storming into his office and witnessing a scene like this, seeing not only his face buried in your panties but all those Polaroids, swimsuit pictures, Halloween costumes, up skirt shots on the stairs. You’d probably call him a filthy pervert and slap in him the face, throw all sorts of names at him. Oh like hell he’d let you, he’d pay to have you do it. The concept of you even touching him is enough to drive him over the edge. These thoughts slowly consumed him as his strokes became even more frantic, approaching his climax as a string of incoherent moans mixed with nothing more than curses and your name rolling off his tongue. Soon enough he came, spilling himself all over his desk, as your stolen panties fell from their place on his nose it landed right in the puddle. Shit.

#smut #fanfic #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy #xmen movies #xmen days of future past #x men first class #xmen apocalypse #young Hank McCoy #drabble #hc #headcannons

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bimboyaoi · 5 months ago

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this margarita tastes like "wow it such would be a shame if a big, hairy, strong man came and picked me up right now..."

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dinogoofymutated · 9 months ago

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THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

“Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

“Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage, licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

“You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit.

“Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

“I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

“Logan! We were just-”

“Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

“I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

“Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

#I do have to say he was definitely about to lift reader back up and eat them out till the cows came home before Logan interrupted #x men comics #x men #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #x men 97 #beast #beast x men #x men beast x reader #x men beast #x men beast headcannons #x men beast smut #hank mccoy #x men hank mccoy #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy headcannons #hank mccoy smut #wolverine and the x men

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librababe99 · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day Seven: Hank McCoy

Hank McCoy (Beast) x Female Reader | Cunnilingus |

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Oral (F receiving)

Summary: Hank McCoy, brilliant scientist and X-Men member, has always maintained a professional demeanor—until his new lab assistant, you, begins to stir feelings he can no longer suppress.

wc: 1.1K

A/N: So I had written two versions of this...Hank in his human form and the other as beast. I know this is probably a "hear me out" moment but y'all hear me out!!

The soft hum of machinery filled the air of the lab deep within the X-Mansion, where shelves lined with vials and beakers glowed faintly under the sterile light. Hank McCoy, though commonly known as Beast, was in his human form tonight. His towering, muscular frame leaned over the desk, his sharp blue eyes focused intently on the latest research data scrolling across his screen. Even in human form, he moved with remarkable grace, his large hands deftly handling the delicate instruments.

At the other end of the room, you were cataloging a series of mutant gene samples. It had been several months since you had joined the team as Hank’s lab assistant, your sharp intellect and quiet focus catching his attention almost immediately. Over the late-night work sessions, you’d both come to know each other well—your shared passion for science, your philosophical debates that lasted hours, and the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you.

But there was something else beneath the surface. You felt it every time Hank’s deep, gentle voice filled the room, a soothing sound that never failed to pull at something deep inside you. Or the way his gaze would linger, longer than it should, whenever you worked in silence together. The tension was there, simmering between you both, growing stronger with each passing day. Every accidental touch—his fingers brushing against yours when you passed him a tool—sent a spark through you that you couldn’t ignore. The quiet moments where his presence, even in his human form, filled the space between you, making it feel smaller, more intimate.

Tonight, the air in the lab felt heavier than usual, thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of you had dared to voice. The clock ticked closer to midnight, and the mansion was silent, save for the occasional creak in the walls. You looked up from your work, watching Hank’s silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of his monitor. His broad shoulders hunched over, his shirt stretching across his back as he typed away.

"Is everything okay?" you asked softly, breaking the quiet.

Hank looked up from his work, his intelligent eyes locking with yours across the room. For a moment, he said nothing, simply studying you with that deep, intense gaze that always made your heart flutter. Then, slowly, he stood, his tall form moving toward you with a deliberate grace that made your pulse quicken. The air between you thickened with anticipation, though you couldn’t yet name why.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice low, laced with an honesty you hadn’t heard before. He took a step closer, his large hand resting on the edge of the table near yours. “But I’ve struggled to find the right words."

You swallowed, feeling your heart race as his presence seemed to fill the room. He was close now, too close. His scent, warm and familiar, wrapped around you as he spoke, the deep timbre of his voice pulling you in.

"Over the past few months, I've realized just how much you mean to me. Not just as a colleague… but as someone I care about more than I should."

Your breath caught in your throat, a warmth spreading through your chest as his words sank in. You opened your mouth to respond, but Hank’s hand brushed against yours on the table, and the touch sent a shiver up your spine. His eyes darkened slightly, his pupils dilating as the tension between you two snapped into sharp focus.

"I've tried to ignore it, tried to remain professional, but…" he trailed off, his thumb grazing your hand gently, the simple contact electrifying your skin. "I can’t anymore."

Your body hummed with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. Slowly, you stood, turning to face him fully. His gaze bore into yours, his tall frame towering over you, yet the way he looked at you was anything but intimidating. It was raw, honest, filled with a desire he had been holding back for far too long.

"I feel the same," you whispered, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

Hank’s breath hitched at your confession. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the air between you crackling with the weight of what you both knew was about to happen. Then, in one swift, decisive movement, Hank closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and full of unrestrained passion.

His hands, large and warm, cradled your face as his lips moved against yours, tender yet demanding. You melted into him, your body pressing against his, the heat of him searing through your clothes. You tangled your fingers in his dark, unruly hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, the quiet lab around you forgotten in the flood of desire that overwhelmed you both.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Hank’s forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy, his voice rough with need. "I want to show you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, "just how much you mean to me."

Your heart raced as his hands slid down your sides, his touch firm but reverent, sending a pulse of heat straight to your core. Slowly, he sank to his knees before you, his gaze never leaving yours, his large hands holding your hips as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Hank…” you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure of what to expect.

But his hands were already moving, undoing the button of your pants with practiced ease. His fingers brushed against your skin as he slid them down your legs, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you, vulnerable and exposed before him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Hank murmured, his breath ghosting over your thigh as he pressed a kiss to your skin, his lips soft and reverent. “To taste you… to make you feel good.”

Your body trembled at his words, the sheer need in his voice sending a flood of warmth through you. Slowly, Hank’s hands parted your thighs, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart pound. And then, without warning, his mouth was on you.

A gasp tore from your lips as his tongue slid against you, warm and insistent, his movements slow and deliberate, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, gripping it tightly as he worked, the pleasure building with each passing second.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as your legs trembled beneath his touch. Every sound that escaped your lips, every gasp and moan, seemed to spur him on, his growls of approval vibrating against your sensitive skin, driving you closer to the edge.

“Hank…” you gasped, your body tightening with anticipation, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. But he didn’t stop, his tongue sucking and swirling your clit with a precision only he could possess, pushing you higher and higher until—

Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as pleasure crashed over you. Hank continued, drawing out every last bit of pleasure he could, his tongue relentless until you were a quivering mess, gasping for breath.

Finally, when you were spent, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your release, his eyes filled with satisfaction and tenderness as he rose to his feet. He pulled you into his arms, his embrace strong yet gentle, his breath still heavy against your ear.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice soft as he held you close. “And I’ll never stop showing you that.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, knowing that Hank had just shown you, in the most intimate way possible, just how much you truly meant to him.

Taglist: @roguespinach @lovemaildumpsterfire @nyxoneiros @omgurhot @5soscrack @superstar-lover863-blog @Therealnekomari @ahreumnim @iloved1lfs0

#kinktober 2024 #hank mccoy #Librababe's Kinktober #hank mccoy x reader #beast #xmen first class #xmen dofp #x men 97 #xmen movies #x men comics #xmen fanfiction #xmen fandom #beast xmen #hank McCoy x female Reader

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outlaw-apologist · 4 months ago

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Okay I would like to request Scott, Logan, Hank, and Remy x reader headcanons where there crush is in a toxic relationship( not abusive) with their partner. So the reader kind of doesn't realize what is happening to them is bad and is a bit of a pushover. They don't feel good in the relationship they are in and do like the characters above romatically, but don't know how to get out of the relationship

X-Men Headcanons If you're in a toxic relationship...

Characters: Scott, Logan, Hank, and Remy A/N: Yes! Yes! Yes! I loved doing this one. Everyone who's been in or is in a toxic relationship deserves a little 'feel good' moment with their X-Men ♡

Logan: Logan’s protectiveness has always been there, but it’s different now. Any time he sees you with that partner of yours, there’s an unmistakable scowl on his face, and his eyes track every single move. Without a word, he makes it his mission to be wherever you are, ensuring your toxic partner has a hard time even getting near you. Logan’s always a few steps away, his gaze hard and unyielding, and he’s constantly volunteering to escort you around the mansion or into town. He brushes it off as coincidence, but you know better—Logan wants you to feel safe, to feel free. And Logan has no filter when it comes to calling out your partner, either. He’s quick to throw in a dry “Oh, that asshole?” whenever anyone brings them up, even if your partner’s right there to hear it. He doesn’t care. In fact, the more they overhear, the better. You’ll catch him muttering insults under his breath or letting out an irritated scoff every time he hears your partner’s voice, making it clear he has zero respect for someone who would treat you like that. If he catches your partner trying to smooth things over, Logan steps between you with a wolfish smirk that sends chills down their spine, and suddenly your partner has somewhere else to be. The worst days are when you show up on his door with tear-streaked cheeks and a hurt so raw that it feels like his own. Logan never says much; he just wraps his arms around you, holding you close and steady. He pulls you into his chest, rough hands threading gently through your hair, and he whispers low reassurances: “You don’t need to carry that pain, darlin’. You’re worth more than that.” His voice is gravelly but soft, and for as long as you need, he stays right there, unflinching.

Of course, Logan’s restraint only goes so far. After a night of seeing you in tears, Logan hunts down your partner without a second thought. He leans in close, a dangerous look in his eye, and gives them an ultimatum that’s impossible to ignore. “Here’s how this goes,” he says with a sneer, “you leave them alone and never look back, or I’ll make sure you’re in no shape to hurt anyone again.” There’s a flash of claws and a look so fierce that there’s no mistaking his seriousness—Logan’s not afraid to make them regret every mistake they’ve made. And once you finally end things, Logan doesn’t bring it up again. Instead, he’s there to remind you of your own strength, to build you up day by day. Logan knows how hard it can be to shake off that kind of hurt and he wants you to heal on your own time. He’ll sweep you off your feet later, your mental health comes first.

Scott:

Scott’s approach is thoughtful and measured, but the intensity is unmistakable. He’s by your side, offering support in a way that’s both compassionate and practical. When he first realizes just how toxic your relationship has become, he takes a deep breath, sitting down with you, his gaze sincere and unflinching. “Look, I’m not here to tell you what to do,” he says, voice low, almost hesitant. “But… do you really want someone who treats you like that? Someone who sees you this way?” Scott speaks with a quiet urgency, his words cutting through the haze of doubt as he asks you to really see yourself—someone worth so much more.

As he gets closer to you, Scott feels an unfamiliar surge of jealousy that gnaws at him every time your partner’s name is mentioned. It’s a feeling that shocks him, brings him back to memories of Jean and Logan, though those wounds had a different ache. Is this how Logan felt? he wonders. Scott didn’t think he was capable of loathing anyone like this, but the way your partner treats you fills him with a deep, unshakable resentment. For the first time, Scott realizes the lengths he would go to for someone he truly cares about, and it rattles him. It makes him question who he’s becoming.

Despite his growing frustration, Scott’s dedication to you is stronger. He makes it his mission to create a sanctuary where you can escape, somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder or walk on eggshells. He welcomes you into his office, the library, or his favorite corner of the garden—any place he can make feel like home. Scott has a gentle way of grounding you, reminding you that here, you’re safe. And he’s serious about it. The day you finally decide to leave your partner, he’s the first to offer protection, pledging to be there as a friend, a teammate, whatever you need to feel truly free.

When your ex tries to worm their way back into your life, Scott’s patience finally snaps. He squares his shoulders, crosses his arms, and stands his ground, eyes blazing beneath his shades. His voice is low but cold, carrying a calm menace. “Buddy, it’s not smart to mess with someone tied to the X-Men. Walk away. Now.” It’s a tone that brokers no argument, no room for second-guessing, and it sends your ex retreating. Scott can’t help the grim satisfaction he feels, knowing he’s drawn a line, protected you in a way he’s been wanting to since the beginning.

Later, Scott doesn’t talk about the confrontation unless you bring it up. Instead, he’s there to help you rebuild, one step at a time, encouraging you to reclaim what that relationship took from you. He’ll support you as much as you need and then some, willing to be the steady presence that reminds you you’re safe, supported, and deserving of so much more.

Remy: Remy doesn’t bother with subtlety, not when it comes to showing you how much better you deserve. He’s by your side in an instant, slipping an arm around your waist, leaning in with that signature grin as he murmurs, “Mon cherie, your partner is a simpleton who does not understand your beauty.” His voice drips with charm, his gaze soft and admiring as he gently lifts your chin. Remy’s got a way of hyping you up like no one else can, making you feel seen, adored, reminding you that someone recognizes your worth. While Logan or Scott might hold back for your comfort, Remy’s got zero reservations. He doesn’t give a fuck, openly flirting with you in front of your partner, his attention intense and unbroken. He’s quick to slip his hand to your waist or brush your hair back from your face, his touch lingering in a way that leaves little to the imagination. He thrives on how visibly it bothers your partner, every small gesture a reminder that you’ve got someone in your corner who sees right through them. His kiss to your hand is bold, his grin unyielding, daring your partner to make a move. And when the two of you are alone, Remy doesn’t mince words. “I can treat you better, mon amour,” he vows, his voice rich with sincerity as he leans in close. “And I will.” His intensity is captivating, and he makes no attempt to hide his frustration with the way your partner treats you. Remy wants you to see your worth through his eyes—someone so deserving of love, joy, and respect. He’s got a way of saying it that feels less like a promise and more like a certainty. Like Logan, Remy openly mocks your partner whenever they cross paths, though his style is entirely his own. With that lazy drawl, he’s quick to point out their shortcomings, sarcasm dripping from every word. “So,” he might say with a smirk, “you actually think you’re worth their time?” His dismissive laugh fills the air, and he’s made it clear to everyone—including you—just how little regard he has for them. One day, your partner gets a more pointed comment as Remy passes by, casual and nonchalant. “It’d be a real shame if you, oh… spontaneously combust one day.” His tone is so bored, his expression so completely uninterested, that it leaves your partner stunned. The implication lingers in the air, and Remy walks away with that carefree confidence that says he meant every word.

Hank: Hank’s kindness has always made him a bit of a people pleaser, but when he sees the hurt in your eyes—the quiet sorrow you try to hide from everyone else—he knows he can’t keep watching silently. One evening, he pulls you aside, voice soft as he murmurs your name, concern clouding his usually calm expression. His gaze holds yours for a beat, as if he’s searching for the right words. “I see how they hurt you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, the sadness clear in his tone. “You don’t deserve this. It breaks my heart to watch this, and I just… I cannot do it anymore.” The vulnerability in his confession stirs something in you; Hank’s genuine care makes it impossible to brush off the truth you’ve been trying to avoid. From then on, Hank keeps a close eye on you, though he tries to be subtle. Any time he sees your partner’s behavior shift, he’s quick to call you over, using “research” as an excuse. “I could really use your assistance with a new project,” he’ll say, his tone polite but firm as he gently guides you away, a hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t want to be too obvious or overstep, but seeing the way they treat you has his nerves tied up in knots. Hank knows he can’t ignore it any longer, even though he wishes he didn’t have to get in the middle of things. But he can’t bear to leave you alone with someone so undeserving of your kindness. In typical Hank fashion, he takes a meticulous, logical approach to helping you understand just how unhealthy this relationship is. He spends hours combing through academic journals and reputable psychology articles, compiling statistics on toxic relationships and gathering data on ways to exit them safely. When he finally works up the courage to hand you the printed pages, he’s endearingly shy, almost reluctant. “I… I hope you don’t mind,” he says, gently passing you the neatly stapled research. “I thought this information might be… useful. Just something to consider.” His cheeks are tinged with a soft blush, but the determination in his eyes speaks volumes—Hank is truly committed to helping you find your way out, in whatever way he can. And sometimes, his frustration slips through in ways that surprise you both. One day, while you’re working with him in the lab, he glances at you with a faint smile before muttering, “From an evolutionary standpoint, your partner is… well, inferior.” His voice carries a hint of frustration he rarely lets show. “A partner is meant to attract and support their counterpart, to form connections and build something meaningful. By that logic, your partner should probably remain single.” His tone is factual, but there’s a protectiveness there.... A feeling of 'you deserve so much better than the treatment you’re enduring'. In the days that follow, Hank continues to support you in quiet but steady ways, slipping you gentle reminders of your worth. He brings you tea when he senses you’re stressed, offers his own quiet encouragement, and creates a safe, comforting environment where you feel genuinely valued. Hank may not be the type to challenge your partner directly, but he tries to show you he’s there for you.

#logan howlett x reader #scott summers #remy lebeau x reader #hank mccoy x reader #x men #x men 97 #logan howlett #wolverine #cyclops #gambit #beast #x men headcannons #my writing #requested #anon

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awkward-walking-potato · 6 months ago

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Could we get hank macoy with a reader whi gets overwhelmed cause sge has a similar mutation to charels, and finds comfort in the quiet of the lab?

Hope you have a good day!

Quiet Moments in the Lab

The Xavier Institute was always bustling with activity—students training, laughter echoing down the halls, and the hum of conversations filling every corner. For most, it was a place of comfort and camaraderie, a safe haven where they could be themselves. But for you, with your telepathic abilities so similar to Charles's, it could often become overwhelming.

You had spent most of your life learning how to control your powers, building mental walls to keep the thoughts of others at bay. But even the strongest walls had cracks, and sometimes, the flood of emotions, thoughts, and voices would become too much.

Today was one of those days.

It started with a headache, a dull throb at the base of your skull that slowly grew until it felt like your head was splitting in two. The thoughts and emotions of everyone around you seemed louder, more intrusive, until you couldn’t differentiate between your own thoughts and those of the people around you. Your vision blurred, and your breath came in short, shallow gasps as you fought to keep the tide from overtaking you.

You needed to escape. Somewhere quiet, somewhere peaceful. Without a second thought, you found yourself making your way to the one place in the mansion where you knew you could find solace—the lab.

The lab was tucked away in a quieter part of the mansion, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the main areas. It was Hank McCoy’s domain, filled with equipment, experiments, and the faint scent of chemicals. It was also a place of sanctuary for you, a refuge from the noise that so often threatened to overwhelm your senses.

You slipped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The lab was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the monitors and the fluorescent bulbs over the workbenches. The usual hum of machinery was a low, comforting background noise, a sharp contrast to the chaotic buzz in your mind.

Hank was there, of course. He was always in the lab, always working on something, and today was no exception. He was bent over a microscope, his large, blue frame hunched in concentration as he carefully adjusted the lens.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him, taking in the quiet, steady rhythm of his movements. Hank was a comforting presence in the mansion, with his gentle demeanor and vast intellect. Despite his formidable appearance, he was one of the kindest souls you had ever met.

And, more importantly, he had a way of grounding you when the world felt like it was spinning out of control.“Hank?” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up immediately, his keen senses picking up on your distress even before he saw the look on your face. “Y/N?” His deep, soothing voice was tinged with concern as he straightened up, wiping his hands on a nearby cloth before crossing the room to you. “What’s wrong? You look… troubled.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “It’s… it’s just too much today. The noise, the thoughts, everything.” You closed your eyes, pressing the heels of your hands against your temples as if you could physically push the headache away. “I just needed to get away for a while.”

Hank’s expression softened, and without a word, he gently guided you to a stool beside one of the workbenches. “Sit,” he instructed, his voice calm and reassuring. “Take a few deep breaths. You’re safe here.”

You did as he said, focusing on your breathing as you tried to block out the cacophony of thoughts that still echoed in your mind. Slowly, the tension began to ease, the overwhelming flood of emotions receding just enough for you to think clearly again.

“Thank you,” you murmured, opening your eyes to find Hank watching you, his expression one of quiet concern. “You know you’re always welcome here,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “The lab is a refuge for both of us, I think.”

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. “It’s the only place where I can really think, where everything else falls away.” You gave him a small, tired smile. “I like the way you talk about science. It’s… calming.”

Hank’s lips quirked into a small smile of his own, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “Would you like me to explain what I’m working on?” he asked gently, as if he knew that his voice, with its deep, measured tones, would help steady you.

“Yes, please,” you whispered, leaning back on the stool and closing your eyes again, letting the sound of his voice wash over you like a balm. Hank began to speak, his words slipping into the familiar cadence of scientific explanation. He talked about cellular mutations, DNA sequences, and the latest advancements in genetic research. To anyone else, it might have seemed like dry, complicated jargon, but to you, it was a lifeline—a steady, constant rhythm that helped anchor you to the present.

As he spoke, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the headache slowly ebbing away. The world outside the lab seemed to fade into the background, until it was just you, Hank, and the quiet, steady beat of his words.

“...and this particular strain of the virus is fascinating because it exhibits properties that are resistant to most conventional treatments,” Hank continued, his voice a comforting rumble. “But with a few adjustments to the gene sequencing, we might be able to counteract those effects…”

You opened your eyes, watching him as he explained his work with passion and precision. There was something incredibly soothing about the way he spoke, the way his hands moved as he gestured to the various charts and samples laid out on the bench.

Hank caught your gaze, and his expression softened even further. “Is this helping?” he asked, his tone gentle.“It is,” you replied honestly, giving him a small, grateful smile. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always know how to make things feel… less overwhelming.”

He returned your smile with one of his own, reaching out to place a large, warm hand over yours. “It’s simply a matter of finding what works for you, Y/N. For me, it’s science—it’s what I know, what I understand. And if that can help you, even a little, then I’m more than happy to share it.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of affection for this brilliant, kind-hearted man who had always been there for you. “You’re a good friend, Hank. Thank you.” He looked almost bashful at your words, ducking his head slightly before clearing his throat. “It’s the least I can do,” he said softly. “We all have our struggles, but we don’t have to face them alone.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the quiet hum of the equipment and the soft patter of rain against the window. And in that moment, you felt a sense of peace that had been eluding you all day, a calmness that only Hank’s presence and the quiet of the lab could bring.

#hank mccoy #hank mccoy imagine #beast imagine #beast x reader #hank mccoy x reader #x men imagine #x men 97

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vxmpfreak · 4 months ago

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Hank McCoy (Beast) x reader SMUT

Hank is in his Beast form in this one :3

warnings: 18+ mdni, dirty talk, no plot, knotting, size difference, unprotected sex (p in v) ( I think that’s it :3)

You and Hank have been dating for a good four months now, considering the fact that he doesn’t get romantically involved with anyone as much just to keep his focus on teaching and his science.

“I think..I’m ready.” Beast said as he came into your room without knocking, sitting down on the bed next to you, making it creak under his weight.

“Ready for what?” You asked, placing a cute blue hair bow in your high ponytail, dropping your hands in your lap afterwards to pay full attention to him.

“I’m ready to have sex with you.” Beast got straight to the point, taking a deep breath in as he was getting nervous, his blue fuzzy hands were becoming clammier by the second. You softly nodded as you turned your body to fully face him.

“Okay, but just to let you know, I’m a pillow princess.” You said as you giggled, getting up and laying down comfortably in the bed, beckoning him over with your finger.

You let out a happy squeal as he crawls on top of you and connects his mouth with yours, starting the kiss off slowly and soon deepening it. You and Beast were now at the point where you two were feeling each other up, grabbing at what you could. Beast growled lowly as he grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading and spanking it as his mouth never left yours.

You looked up at Beast with eyes full of lust as he slowly took off your clothing, kissing any and all skin that was in sight. Now that you were both naked, he made sure to kiss and licked every spot of your body. From top to bottom. His lips leaving hot, needy kisses in the right places.

“Are..you going to use a condom?” You spoke up softly, worried for the outcome of all this. You were on birth control either way but you just wanted to be in the safe side.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but do you have one?” Beast asked as his blue lips lingered on the soft spot of your neck, you softly shook your head. You never had condoms on you, you figured you might as well start leaving some around after this.

“Raw it is then.” Beast licked his lips as he ran his tip over your clit, making you bite your lip and let out soft moans, your hips grinding at the yearn for more relief.

Beast let out a low groan as he positioned his cock to run between your folds, teasing you by the second as you let more noises slip form your mouth.

“Beast..please..” You pleaded as you looked up at him, now trapped as he had one arm supporting him on the bed and the other guiding his dick.

“Please what? Good girls use their words.” Beast said in a more husky tone, looking down at you with that big smirk in his face. You were already soaking wet during the make out session, it made it easier for him to be sliding up and down your folds.

“Oh..please just fuck me..please..” You can just feel how huge he was as he stayed buried in your folds, leaning back in a certain position to see you try to relief yourself on him. Beast let out a low sigh as he finally pushed himself into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He stretched you out so much, it felt bigger than any toy you ever used, and that says a lot.

“Shit..is that all of it?” You asked in a high pitched tone, already feeling so full. Beast chuckled as he leaned down to speak right by your ear.

“That’s just the tip sweetheart.”

You let out a groan. Not in frustration, but a groan of pleasure as he continued to sink himself deeper into your cunt, your slickness helping him slide in easier. You kept moving your hands as your bangs kept falling over your face, Beast grunted and pulled the bow off your hair, grabbing it one hand and grabbing your hair in the other, pinning the loose hair with the bow to keep it out the way.

Beast let out a low moan as his skin met yours, the warmness letting you know that he was now balls deep in your pussy. Beast bit into your shoulder as he let you adjust to him, kissing and licking your shoulder occasionally. You tapped his chest to give him the go.

Beast took a deep breath in as he pulled out to the tip and slammed himself back in, causing you to arch your back off the bed, moaning louder than before at the harsh thrust.

“Oh look at that beauty..I can see my print in your stomach..” Beast breathlessly said as he made you look down at the bulge that was in your stomach, moving with the movement of his hard thrusts.

“Oh Beast..oh fuck! It feels so good!” You moaned loudly as your grabbed the back of your knees and lifted them up to your head, your eyes rolling back at the deeper level of the new position, you felt so full, and it felt so good.

The slapping of skin against skin was loud, the sound mixed with pure moans of pleasure, grunts, gasps, and whines.

“So close Beast..I’m so close..” You moaned loudly, biting hard on your lower lip as you looked up at him. He smirked as he grabbed you and effortlessly flipped you over on your hands and knees in a doggy position. You instantly arch your back, your plump ass up high in the air as your breasts were smushed on the mattress. He plunged back into you, causing you to let out another loud moan. The bed was creaking at his point as the frame hit the wall, making a loud thudding sound.

If the neighbors had no clue what was going on before, they do now.

“Can you take my knot like a good girl? Hm?” Beast asked lowly as he nibbled on your earlobe, causing you to shiver and shake your head.

“It..it won’t fit..”

“I’ll make it fit.”

You were about to protest but you already felt a weird sensation as something kneaded into you, stretching you out even more if that was even possible. A loud moan was heard from you and Beast as he got his knot inside you.

Your cunt clenched around him as you finally cummed, your legs shaking as your back arched even more, throwing your head back as you let out the loudest moans known to earth. Beast let out a low hiss as he felt the clenching around his cock and his knot. He kneaded and kept his hands on your ass as he emptied his entire load into you, groaning as his knot kept him in place.

You both soon grounded yourselves after your highs, laughing softly as he was still knotted into you although he was admiring the view of some of his pearly white cum dripping out the tight space. After a good half hour, he was able to separate himself from you.

In an instant, your pussy was dripping purely of his cum, and he stood up as he was still letting out cum. This man had the biggest load you’ve ever taken. He was a little embarrassed about it but soon calmed down as he watched you plunge two fingers into your own cunt and swirl them around, collecting his cum and bringing it up to your mouth, tasting yourself and him combined.

Beast cleaned you and himself up, changing the sheets and inviting you into the bed for a good horror movie.

And in case you were wondering, no, you weren’t able to walk for a good three days.

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exoticb-utters · 9 months ago

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SFW Hank McCoy (Relationship) Headcanons - NSFW under the cut

-Avid strawberry lover. Fight me. It’s definitely his not-so-guilty pleasure, coming back from a long mission just to enjoy some nice fruit and your company. Strawberry shortcakes, pancakes, muffins, cheesecakes, you name it. Ironically, blueberries are also one of his favorites. (*cough* since, you know, he’s blue *cough*)

-Loves the look of domestication on you. The slightly messy hair, your comfy ‘I don’t care’ clothes you wear around the mansion, all of it. Something about your tame presence calms his chaotic, stressful state he finds himself in.

-Surprisingly, Hank has a green thumb. He enjoys gardening without a doubt; during the very little free time he gives himself anyway. While the hobby is relaxing to him and gets a good opportunity to study the greenery, he likes picking out the prettiest flower to give to you. “A beautiful flower for an even more beautiful woman.” He’ll say. What a charmer.

-Accidental Workaholic 100%. If you had to count the number of times you had to drag Henry’s blue arse out of that lab and into your shared room, you’d need a few more appendages. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night, noticing the empty space occupying Hank’s side of the bed. With a huff, you’d roll out of bed and march down to the lab. “Hank.” You would call out in the dark lab, save for the singular lamp that illuminated the very desk Hank sat in- hunched over like a hermit whilst looking into a microscope. “Yes, dear?” He’d reply, oblivious to the unholy hour of the night. “What time do you think it is right now?” You ask him with a raised brow, making him check his watch and cause his eyes to widen. “Oh my…I must’ve lost track of time, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” He’d sigh, shrugging his lab coat off his broad shoulders. “Say that to your sleep schedule…” You’d quip, earning you a deep chuckle from behind you. “Off to bed we go.” He kisses the temple of your head, leading you to your bedroom.

-Hank fs has a Dr Kink. He worked hard for that title, so rest assured every time he takes care of you or prescribes you something and you refer to him as your doctor…it may end up with you splayed across the table taking something other than medication….

-Praise Kink. I could go on and onnnnnn about this one. He definitely doesn’t get the attention he deserves in and out of the lab, so when you tell him how smart he is, or how his hard work is paying off? He’ll simply malfunction. It could be as simple as, “You look good today ;)” and he’ll be on his knees giving you something in return for your kindness.

A/N: my requests are open! I need more content for this page so I did something short and sweet with Hank since he’s painfully underrated imo. So, any character you wanna see me write pls shoot me a message!!

#hank mccoy #henry mccoy #beast #hank mccoy x reader #beast x reader #x men 97 #x men comics #doctor mccoy #marvel comics #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff

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urdreamydoodles · 3 months ago

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Could we get some headcannons on how X-Men characters would deal with an s/o who struggles with verbal communication? (I was thinking someone who just struggles with words but they could be deaf or mute as well)

Like instead of talking they use notes, or gestures, or even actual sign language to communicate. I was thinking it’s usually done when the reader is struggling to ask for something directly, or just convey what they’re thinking.

(I wasn’t sure if you’d want specific characters to think of or if you’d want free rein, but I’ll list a few of my favourites; Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Storm, Morph, Magneto, Beast)

X-Men x Reader

You struggles with verbal communication

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Morph, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Rogue, Cable & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You’d been living at the mansion for a while, and while most people understood your struggle with verbal communication, Logan didn’t seem to get it at first. He wasn’t rude about it, but his gruff nature often led him to misinterpret your gestures. “What, you can’t just spit it out?” he’d ask, crossing his arms. You’d roll your eyes and scribble something on a notepad, sliding it over to him with a sharp look. He’d grumble but take it, slowly realizing how much effort you were putting into every interaction.

- Logan started paying closer attention over time. He noticed how your hands moved when you gestured, how your eyes flicked to certain objects when you wanted something. He wasn’t the type to ask outright, but he started observing quietly, learning your nonverbal cues like he was piecing together a puzzle. One day, you found him practicing basic ASL signs in the corner of the library. “Figured it might make things easier,” he said when you caught him, scratching the back of his neck.

- He surprised you by using those signs during casual conversations, albeit a bit clumsily at first. When you were struggling to ask for help one day, he simply signed, What do you need? It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Don’t get all weepy on me, kid,” he grumbled, handing you a tissue. Still, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was proud of himself.

- Logan’s protectiveness shone through in unexpected ways. If someone gave you a hard time about not speaking, he’d step in with a sharp glare that could silence a room. “Got a problem with how they communicate?” he’d growl, leaving no room for argument. You never asked him to defend you, but his unwavering support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- Over time, the two of you grew closer. Logan’s patience, hidden beneath his rough exterior, was a balm to your insecurities. One evening, after a particularly long day, you handed him a note that read, Thank you for understanding me. He read it silently, then looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he said softly. “You’re worth the effort.”

- The shift from friendship to romance was seamless. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. He started carrying a small notepad for you, just in case you ran out of paper. And when he kissed you for the first time, it was tender, unhurried, as if he was trying to convey all the words he knew you struggled to say. “You don’t need words with me, darlin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I get you just fine.”

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was instantly intrigued by your quiet nature, his curiosity piqued when he saw you using gestures and notes to communicate. “Mon cher, you always this mysterious?” he teased with a charming smirk. At first, you thought he was just flirting like he did with everyone, but his genuine interest shone through when he started trying to decode your gestures without making you uncomfortable.

- He quickly turned your communication struggles into a game, guessing what you were trying to say with an exaggerated flair. “You tryin’ to tell me you hungry? Or you just wanna see ol’ Remy look like a fool?” he’d say, making you laugh silently. His lighthearted approach made it easier for you to relax, even when you struggled to get your point across.

- One evening, when you left a sketchpad on the table with a note reading, I’m not sure how to ask for help, Remy’s teasing demeanor softened. “Cher,” he said quietly, taking a seat beside you, “you don’t gotta be afraid to ask me for nothin’, yeah? I’ll figure it out.” His reassurance, paired with his playful charm, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Remy’s natural adaptability shone as he started learning little tricks to help you communicate. He began carrying a deck of blank cards, writing quick responses or questions for you to use. “See? Now we both got somethin’ to write on,” he’d say with a wink, making the process feel less daunting. He even started teaching you French phrases, encouraging you to write them down when words failed.

- The moment things shifted between you two was subtle but impactful. One night, you handed him a note that simply read, I like you. His red eyes glimmered with mischief as he read it, but his smile was surprisingly tender. “Well, cher,” he said, leaning in closer, “guess it’s only fair I tell you somethin’, too.” Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

- Dating Remy was like navigating a whirlwind of charm and affection. He made it clear that he adored you, using every opportunity to show you how much he cared. From spontaneous gestures to quiet moments where he’d sit beside you, letting your notes and signs speak volumes, Remy proved that your unique way of communicating only made him fall for you harder.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt noticed your struggle with verbal communication almost immediately, his empathetic nature drawing him toward you. “You do not speak much, ja?” he asked one day, his tone gentle and curious. When you nodded, he didn’t press further, instead offering you a warm smile. “I understand. We all have our ways.”

- He quickly adapted to your communication style, finding joy in the way you used gestures and notes. “It is like learning a new language,” he said with excitement, his tail flicking behind him. “And I am always eager to learn.” His enthusiasm made it easier for you to open up, his patience and kindness making every interaction feel effortless.

- One day, you hesitated, struggling to express something important. Kurt noticed your frustration and gently placed a hand on yours. “Take your time,” he said softly, his golden eyes filled with understanding. When you finally handed him a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help sometimes, he nodded solemnly. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he assured you. “I am here for you, always.”

- Kurt began incorporating small acts of reassurance into your daily life, like leaving you notes of encouragement or learning more ASL to communicate with you better. His joy when you taught him new signs was infectious. “Did I do it right?” he’d ask, his tail curling nervously as he signed a simple phrase. Your smile was all the confirmation he needed.

- The turning point came one evening when you handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Kurt’s eyes widened, and a faint blush colored his blue cheeks. “Mein Schatz,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his tail wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

- Being with Kurt was like stepping into a world of unwavering kindness and affection. He made it his mission to understand you, to support you in every way possible. “You do not need words to tell me how you feel,” he said one day, his fingers tracing your hand. “I can see it in your eyes. And I will always speak for the both of us, if you need.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was initially unsure of how to approach you. He respected your quiet nature but didn’t want to overstep. When he saw you using notes and gestures to communicate, he made a conscious effort to pay attention, his leadership instincts kicking in. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make things easier,” he said one day, his tone sincere.

- He started picking up on your cues quickly, his analytical mind piecing together patterns in your gestures. “You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you hesitated, giving you the space to communicate at your own pace. His patience surprised you, his usually stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

- One day, after a training session, you handed Scott a note that read, I feel like I’m slowing everyone down. He frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re part of this team, and we support each other. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden.” His words were firm but full of warmth, his unwavering belief in you shining through.

- Scott began making small adjustments to accommodate your communication style, like keeping a whiteboard in the common areas or encouraging others to be more patient. “It’s not about how you communicate,” he told you one evening. “It’s about making sure you’re heard.” His support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed Scott a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. He read it silently, then looked up at you with a rare, soft smile. “I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The kiss that followed was tender, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious.

- Being with Scott meant being with someone who valued every part of you. He made sure you always felt included, never letting your struggles define you. “You don’t need to say a word,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “I’ll always understand.” His quiet devotion was a constant reminder that love didn’t need words to thrive.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo was naturally drawn to your quiet strength. She noticed your use of notes and gestures early on, her sharp intuition picking up on how you often hesitated to ask for help. She approached you with her characteristic grace, offering you a kind smile. “You speak in your own way,” she said softly. “And I’d like to listen, if you’ll let me.” Her calm understanding put you at ease immediately.

- Ororo quickly adapted to your style of communication. She never rushed you, instead waiting patiently for you to finish writing or signing. “Take your time,” she’d say whenever she noticed you struggling. Her respect for your pace made you feel valued, and you found yourself opening up more around her.

- One day, you handed her a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for what I need sometimes. Ororo’s serene expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand over yours. “You’ve already asked by sharing this with me,” she said. “Let me help you carry that weight.” Her words felt like a soothing balm, her unwavering support reassuring you in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Over time, Ororo began incorporating subtle gestures to show her understanding. She’d leave small notes of encouragement in places she knew you’d find them, or create gentle winds to carry your written messages to her during training sessions. Her actions spoke louder than words, and they reminded you daily of her care for you.

- The turning point came during a quiet evening in the garden. You handed Ororo a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight as she read your message, a radiant smile spreading across her face. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She leaned in to kiss your forehead, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

- Being with Ororo was like standing in the eye of a storm—peaceful yet powerful. She made you feel seen and cherished, her understanding and empathy creating a safe space for your love to flourish. “Your voice is beautiful,” she told you one day, tracing your hand with hers. “Even if it’s not always spoken aloud, it still reaches me.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph immediately took an interest in you, his playful nature making him curious about your quiet demeanor. “So, what’s the deal?” he asked one day, his tone lighthearted. When you handed him a note explaining that you struggled with verbal communication, his face lit up with excitement. “A challenge, huh? I love a good puzzle!”

- He made it his mission to understand your gestures and notes, often turning your interactions into a game. “Okay, charades it is!” he’d say, mimicking your motions in exaggerated ways that made you laugh. His humor took the pressure off, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I’m not good at asking for help. Morph read it aloud, then gave you a dramatic bow. “Lucky for you, I’m great at helping!” he said with a grin. Despite his joking tone, his sincerity was evident in the way he stuck around, always ready to lend a hand.

- Morph’s shape-shifting abilities came in handy when it came to communicating. He’d transform into a giant hand to mimic your gestures or into a cartoonish version of himself to make you laugh when you were feeling down. His creativity knew no bounds, and his efforts to connect with you were as entertaining as they were heartfelt.

- The moment things shifted between you was as spontaneous as Morph himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I like you. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “I knew it!” he said, pulling you into a spin. When he set you down, his usual joking demeanor softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I like you too,” he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

- Being with Morph was an adventure in every sense of the word. He made sure you never felt isolated, using his humor and shape-shifting to keep things light and fun. “You don’t have to say a word,” he told you one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can read you loud and clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik was initially perplexed by your communication style, his analytical mind trying to make sense of your hesitations. When he realized you relied on notes and gestures, he was intrigued rather than dismissive. “An unconventional approach,” he mused. “But effective, nonetheless.” His curiosity made you nervous at first, but his lack of judgment slowly put you at ease.

- He began studying your gestures with the same intensity he applied to everything else, determined to understand you fully. “Communication is an art,” he said one day, watching as you wrote something down. “And you are a master of it, even without words.” His respect for your efforts made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

- One evening, you handed Erik a note that read, I feel like I’m a burden. He read it silently, his expression darkening. “You are not a burden,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Never diminish yourself in my presence again.” His words, though blunt, were filled with an undeniable care that warmed your heart.

- Erik’s efforts to support you were both subtle and grand. He’d manipulate small metal objects to write words in the air for you or create intricate metal sculptures to convey messages when you struggled. His actions showed a thoughtfulness that contrasted sharply with his usual stern demeanor.

- The turning point came during a quiet moment in his study. You slid him a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. Erik’s sharp eyes softened as he read your words. He set the note down carefully, then reached for your hand. “And I care for you,” he said, his voice low and steady. His kiss was deliberate, filled with the kind of intensity that only Erik could bring.

- Being with Erik was like standing beside a force of nature—powerful, unyielding, and deeply protective. He made sure you always felt valued, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could. “You don’t need to speak,” he told you one evening, his hand resting gently on yours. “Your presence is enough.”

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was fascinated by your unique way of communicating, his scientific mind eager to understand the nuances of your gestures and notes. “A fascinating approach,” he said the first time he saw you write something down. “May I inquire further?” His genuine interest made you feel less self-conscious, and you found yourself opening up to him quickly.

- He started keeping a notebook nearby, jotting down your cues and gestures like he was studying a new language. “It’s remarkable how much you can convey without words,” he said one day, his admiration evident. His encouragement made you feel proud of your communication style, rather than ashamed of it.

- One afternoon, you left a note in his lab that read, I feel like I’m too much work for people. When Hank found it, his brow furrowed, and he immediately sought you out. “You are never too much work,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “If anything, you’ve taught me to see the world in a new way, and I’m grateful for that.”

- Hank’s support manifested in practical ways. He developed small devices to make it easier for you to communicate, like a digital notepad that converted your writing into speech. “A little invention of mine,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I hope it’s helpful.” His thoughtfulness left you speechless, your gratitude clear in the way you hugged him tightly.

- The moment your relationship shifted was as gentle as Hank himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Hank read it carefully, his blue fur bristling slightly as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, his voice soft. His kiss was tentative but warm, filled with the quiet intensity that defined him.

- Being with Hank was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. He made sure you always felt supported, his kindness and intellect creating a safe space for your love to grow. “Your voice is unique,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “And I consider it an honor to understand it.”

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean noticed your quiet demeanor and alternative way of communicating long before you realized. She often caught glimpses of your emotions through her telepathy, though she never intruded. When you passed her notes or gestured instead of speaking, she responded with patience and understanding, letting you take the lead. “Take your time,” she’d say softly, her gentle smile a constant reassurance.

- Jean quickly adapted to your style, finding ways to bridge the gaps in communication. She subtly enhanced your gestures with her telepathy, sensing what you meant before you could even fully convey it. “It’s like we have our own secret language,” she teased one day, her green eyes sparkling. Her ability to meet you halfway made you feel less alone.

- One day, during a quiet moment in the mansion’s library, you hesitated before passing her a note. It read, Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong here. Jean’s expression softened as she read it, and she reached out to take your hand. “You belong wherever you choose to be,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “And right now, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

- Jean began leaving small notes for you as well, little affirmations that brightened your day. “You’re stronger than you think,” one read, tucked under your door. “You don’t have to say a word for me to know how amazing you are,” said another, left with your breakfast. These gestures reminded you that she was always thinking of you, even in the smallest ways.

- The shift in your relationship came during a walk through the garden. You handed her a note that read, I care about you, more than I probably should. Jean’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I feel the same way.” Her kiss was gentle and warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

- Being with Jean felt like basking in a calm, nurturing presence. She understood you deeply, both through her powers and her heart. “You don’t need words to express yourself,” she told you one day, her hand resting lightly on your cheek. “You’ve already said everything I need to hear.”

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue was drawn to your quiet, introspective nature. She was no stranger to feeling out of place, and when she noticed your reliance on notes and gestures, she connected with you immediately. “Ah reckon we’re both a little unconventional,” she said one day, her Southern drawl soft. “But that’s what makes us unique.”

- She made it her mission to understand your style of communication, often using humor to lighten the mood. “What’s this one mean?” she’d joke, mimicking your gestures dramatically. Her teasing was never mean-spirited, and her playful attitude made it easier for you to relax around her.

- One afternoon, you left her a note that read, I’m afraid people will get tired of me. Rogue’s gloved hand tightened around the paper, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “Sugar, if anyone ever makes ya feel that way, they’re not worth your time,” she said firmly. “Ah’ll never get tired of ya, that’s for sure.”

- Rogue’s physical limitations due to her powers didn’t stop her from showing her care. She’d use small gestures like slipping notes into your jacket pocket or brushing her covered hand against yours to reassure you. Her creativity in expressing her feelings mirrored your own, making you feel understood on a deeper level.

- The turning point came during a late-night conversation in the mansion’s common room. You passed her a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Rogue’s green eyes widened, and she bit her lip nervously. “Ah’ve been feelin’ the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in, her gloved hand cupping your cheek as she kissed you carefully, mindful of her powers.

- Being with Rogue was like finding a kindred spirit. She understood the challenges of feeling different and made sure you never felt isolated. “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’,” she told you one day, her smile soft and warm. “Ah know exactly how ya feel.”

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s gruff exterior initially made you hesitant to approach him, but he surprised you with his patience and attentiveness. He noticed your preference for notes and gestures right away, his keen tactical mind quickly adapting to your style. “Communication’s about understanding,” he said once. “Doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it works.”

- Despite his hardened demeanor, Cable showed surprising softness when it came to you. He’d take your notes seriously, his cybernetic hand carefully holding the paper as he read. “Got it,” he’d say with a small nod, making you feel heard and respected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help. Cable’s steel-blue eyes softened as he read it, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask,” he said simply. “I’ll always have your back.” His words, though straightforward, carried a depth of sincerity that stayed with you.

- Cable’s actions spoke louder than words. He’d leave you supplies he thought you might need or subtly adjust his schedule to be around when he thought you might struggle. His protective nature made you feel safe, even without verbal reassurances.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Cable read it, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a rare smile crossed his face. “Guess I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was firm yet gentle, a reflection of the man himself.

- Being with Cable was like having a steadfast anchor in a chaotic world. He didn’t need flowery words to show his care; his actions spoke volumes. “You’ve got your way of communicating,” he told you one day, his voice steady. “And I’ve got mine. Together, we make it work.”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade was immediately fascinated by your unique communication style. “You’re like a mysterious, silent protagonist,” he quipped one day, leaning dramatically against a doorframe. “Do I get to be the comic relief in your story?” His lighthearted approach put you at ease, though his constant chatter sometimes overwhelmed you.

- He took your notes and gestures as a challenge, often exaggerating his responses to make you laugh. “Oh, I see what you mean!” he’d say, even when he clearly didn’t. His antics were equal parts endearing and infuriating, but his genuine effort to connect with you never wavered.

- One day, you passed Wade a note that read, Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. He stared at it for a moment, unusually quiet. Then he grinned and said, “Too much? Sweetheart, have you met me? You’re like the perfect yin to my yang!” His humor was disarming, but the sincerity in his eyes reassured you.

- Wade found creative ways to communicate with you, often using props, drawings, or even sock puppets to convey his thoughts. “See? Communication is an art form,” he said, holding up a poorly drawn cartoon of the two of you. His efforts were chaotic but heartfelt, showing you how much he cared.

- The shift in your relationship came during a quiet moment in his usually loud life. You handed him a note that read, I think I love you. Wade froze, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he scooped you into his arms. “I knew it!” he shouted, spinning you around. His kiss was surprisingly tender, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

- Being with Wade was unpredictable but filled with joy. He made you feel understood in his own chaotic way, proving that love didn’t need to follow traditional rules. “You don’t need words,” he told you one day, his voice unusually soft. “I get you. And trust me, that’s saying something.”

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cinematicghoul · 3 months ago

Text

WOLVERINE & BEAST / BROWN SHUGA

NOT an old edit. Brand new actually. I made this today. I simply couldn’t wait to post it. It’s not a horror edit either but oh well. Every thing I do is kind of multifandom anyway. Whether it be edits or fanfics.

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 4 months ago

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ugh I love your content, yandere marvel just gets met going like for real.

Okay so I would want to request platonic yandere hank maccoy x reader, this man is so under rated and I love him so much

SAVIOR COMPLEX

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Hank Maccoy x Fem!reader

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, Fluff, invasion of privacy, scars, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Hank? Idk, fights, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

sinopsis ⸺Hank McCoy, the charismatic and brilliant mutant known for his intelligence and imposing appearance, hides a dark and possessive side that emerges after falling in love. His devotion to his beloved is unwavering, leading him to obsess over her well-being and safety. While his love seems genuine and protective, his need for control becomes evident in every decision he makes: restricting her freedom, driving away anyone who might threaten their relationship, and marking her with traces that demonstrate his dominance. Every smile you give him is a reminder of his fervent desire to keep you by his side, but behind his sweet facade lies a palpable fear of losing you that consumes him and transforms him into an unyielding lover.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish — Well, it took me a while to upload this, but not out of laziness or anything concerning; I just went on vacation for a week to explore a bit, and since I was going to many places, I couldn't write due to exhaustion. But here is the request. Once again, I apologize for the delay.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... remembers the first moment he saw you as if it were yesterday. You arrived at the mansion, trembling and wrapped in a thin white blanket that barely covered your battered body. Outside, it was raining, and the drops tapped against the windows in the silence. Your sobs mingled with the echo of thunder. Your eyes, swollen from crying, searched for some trace of comfort in that strange and gloomy place. He felt a pang in his chest but kept a prudent distance. He knew that his appearance could be intimidating. But one of the mutants who had brought you asked him to take care of you while he went to find help.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... sat down next to you with a mix of shyness and concern. He watched you in silence, searching for the right words to comfort you. However, every time he tried to say something, your only response was sobs. Until, unexpectedly, you cuddled against his chest. He felt your body tremble against his, and his heart began to race. In that instant, he decided he would do everything in his power to protect you. No one would hurt you again.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... grew fond of you as he helped you in your recovery. He spent nights in the lab, mixing ointments and designing specific treatments for your wounds. Every time he placed the bandage on your skin, he noticed how his fingers trembled slightly, feeling a mix of tenderness and a fervent desire to be your only protector. The night you tearfully told him about your kidnapping and the trials that had turned you into a mutant, his heart hardened. A dark spark was born within him. "No one should go through that," he whispered, taking your hand. No one would touch you without his permission.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... enjoyed showing you every corner of the garden. "This place is our little refuge," he said, and you noticed how his eyes grew increasingly intense when he fixed them on you. He showed you the most hidden nooks, the secret places only he knew. "Here, we are alone," he murmured softly, while you only thought it was a kind gesture. For him, however, it was a statement: his promise that no one else would know you like he did.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... organized private dinners with you every night, a perfect excuse to have you all to himself. He lit the table with candles, and his smile seemed kind and warm. "It's perfect, isn't it?" he would ask as he served you. His eyes locked onto you every time you laughed, and in those moments, a dark satisfaction washed over him. No one else could make you smile like that. No one else could make you feel safe like he did.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... became your confidant. He never let a night pass without inviting you to talk, encouraging you to share your fears and dreams. "I will always be here for you," he whispered, and you simply nodded, grateful for his company. But every time you mentioned someone else, whether in a trivial story or in simple conversation, you noticed how his gaze darkened slightly. Sometimes, you couldn't help but feel an overprotective presence in his words, but you always attributed those thoughts to your imagination.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... felt a burn in his chest the day he saw you talking to another mutant, laughing, as if you could trust someone other than him. He approached and forced a smile. "Who is he?" he asked, keeping a casual tone, but feeling his insides boil with jealousy. When you told him he was "just a friend," he couldn't help but tense up. No one was "just a friend" to you.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... decided he had to act. He couldn't risk losing you. So, when that "friend" of yours got involved in an unfortunate accident during a training session, no one suspected Hank. He watched as they took him to the medical wing, with a dark sense of triumph pulsing in his chest. Now no one would come between you.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... always found an excuse to be near you. Every time you entered the lab, he was there, offering you help or even preparing new "experimental" treatments that ensured he saw you often. "I don't want you to feel lonely," he said, and in his voice, you could perceive something between sweetness and a strange pressure that you couldn't quite define.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... finally, one night under the stars, mustered the courage to confess his feelings to you. "You are everything to me," he whispered in an almost reverent tone, taking your hand and squeezing it. "No one else can take that place. No one else would understand the love I feel for you." His eyes, shining under the moonlight, looked at you with an intensity that seemed to possess you.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... gradually moved you into his room, first arguing that it would be easier for him to supervise your recovery. "So you can rest and not have to wander the halls at night," he explained softly, holding your hand with a mix of affection and a barely perceptible pressure. At first, he placed an extra bed next to his, assuring you it was just temporary. But night after night, he began to inch closer, until it became a routine to share his bed. You slept together as if you were a married couple already, and although you never spoke of it directly, Hank acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In the mornings, he would wrap his protective arm around you, holding you close while whispering, "You know? Here, in my arms, I feel like nothing could harm you." It was in those moments of silent intimacy that Hank allowed himself to imagine a future where you were his wife, his companion forever, someone whom the other X-Men would recognize as his.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... adored seeing how the other X-Men began to treat you with the same respect and deference they had for him, but now with a nuance indicating that you were someone special to Hank. He noticed the respectful glances from his teammates when you appeared by his side, and that filled his heart with a dark and possessive pride. You are mine, he thought, feeling a strange satisfaction in seeing how others accepted you in that role without questioning it. With every gesture, every smile, every knowing glance from the others, Hank felt that his dream of marrying you was ever closer to becoming a reality.

Yandere Hank McCoy who...ensured that you were comfortable and protected in his bed every time you cried from nightmares. Some nights, you would wake trembling, reliving the traumas of the past or the dangerous missions you had experienced. He would hold you tightly, cradling you against his chest, his claws gently stroking your back in an attempt to calm you. "I'm here, love. No one will hurt you," he would whisper in a hoarse voice, allowing the weight of his own body and presence to soothe your fears. In those moments, his thoughts intertwined with an intense concern and a need to protect you from everyone, even from life itself outside those walls.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... felt a deep desire to be with you in every way, but at the same time feared his own mutation. He knew that within him existed a bestial ferocity that he always tried to control. He didn't want that side of him to scare you or hurt you in a moment of intimacy. So, as much as he longed to consummate his love for you, he held back, caught between his yearning and the fear of losing control. Every night, his thoughts revolved around this internal struggle, and he often woke up in a cold sweat, desperately wishing he could love you without reservations.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... suffered deeply the day you returned injured from a Sentinel attack. It wasn't your first mission, but when he saw you stagger through the door of the mansion, supported by Ororo and covered in wounds, something within him broke. He rushed to you, his gaze tinged with desperation, holding you tightly as he took you to the infirmary. His voice trembled as he said, "You shouldn't have gone out, I shouldn't have let you go... Oh God, what would have happened if you hadn't come back?" For days, he stayed by your side, caring for each of your wounds, tormented by the idea of losing you. That experience convinced him that you would never be in danger again as long as he could prevent it.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... forbade you from going on missions after that incident. "I don't want you to suffer again," he told you, with an intensity that made it clear there was no room for negotiation. In his mind, this was the only way to protect you. He offered you an alternative, one he considered much safer and more satisfying: to become a teacher for the young mutants. Teaching them basic skills, stories of famous mutants, and values, always within the safety of the mansion. "This way you can use your abilities without risking yourself," he explained, making sure the idea seemed an act of care and not control.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... began to fantasize about the idea of having a family with you. Watching you interact with the children, hearing you laugh and care for them with such tenderness awakened a deep desire in him, a vision of a future where you and he shared something more. His relentless and obsessive mind began to draw images of children who would inherit both your sweetness and his intellect. He didn't want a large family, but a small one he could call his. In his vision, you would always be under his care, in the safety of the home he would build for you. Thus, night after night, Hank dedicated himself to his dreams and the obsession of protecting you, as his love grew darker and more possessive. Every time he held you while sleeping, his barely audible whisper sealed his intentions: "Nothing and no one will separate us, love. This is our destiny."

Yandere Hank McCoy who... finally gathered the courage to propose to you one special night. He had organized a dinner where several young X-Men, like Jubilee, Kitty, and Bobby, were present to celebrate with you. Everything had to be perfect, or at least that was his hope. But, as was customary among the young, the evening was somewhat chaotic. There were laughs, jokes, and some accidents with the food, details that could have irritated him on any other occasion. However, that night he was so focused on you, on your laughter and your smile, that nothing else mattered. At the end of dinner, with trembling hands and a gaze filled with an almost unsettling devotion, Hank knelt before you. He still remembered the pressure in his chest as, with a voice laden with emotion, he said, "Will you marry me?" Time seemed to stand still as everyone present watched, holding their breath. When you whispered a tearful "yes," Hank felt as if the entire universe was finally in harmony. He wrapped you in his arms, and that night he felt that his life finally made sense: you were his forever.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... couldn't wait another moment and soon begged Nightcrawler to marry them, eager to formalize what he considered the most sacred bond of his life. “Kurt... please, make it official,” Hank implored, his voice trembling but resolute. Kurt, holding a special license to officiate, observed the intensity in Hank's gaze. Although he had certain reservations, he agreed, touched by Hank's insistence and the depth of his feelings—or what appeared to be love— The ceremony was simple, with their mutant friends and colleagues gathered around. As you exchanged vows, Hank looked at you as if you were the light he had been seeking all his life. When the final "yes" escaped your lips, his heart surged with a potent blend of euphoria and obsession. At last, he knew, no one else could claim you, no one could approach you without his permission. You were his in both body and soul, bound to him for eternity, and he would do anything necessary to keep it that way.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... after the wedding, let his possessive and dark side flourish without restrictions. He no longer tried to hide it; every time someone approached you, he would step in with a cold glare and a low growl in his throat. At first, he only intervened subtly, but over time, he began to visibly push everyone away from you, ensuring that no other man or woman dared to even look at you with interest. The confidence with which he distanced you from any conversation or group began to unsettle you, and when you tried to discuss it with him, he would only hold you tightly, whispering reassuring words but filled with an unbreakable authority: "You are mine... I don't need to share you with anyone."

Yandere Hank McCoy who... every night, when you were with him in intimacy, let that wild side he worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world out. His need to possess you became physical, and he didn't hide the pleasure of seeing you marked with his imprints: light bruises and scratches that he saw as proof that you were his and no one else's. In those moments, his voice turned deep and dominant, his words a mix of promises and warnings: "Never forget that you belong to me, and you are mine." Although you said yes to calm him, in your mind doubts and a silent fear accumulated, fearing that this side of him would grow more than you could bear. It no longer mattered that he took you in his beastly body; he knew you loved him, so he made love to you fiercely while your nails scratched his blue back.

Yandere Hank McCoy who... began to control every aspect of your life, limiting your outings and ensuring that if you had to interact with anyone else, it was under conditions he could supervise. He only allowed you to go out on special occasions and under his watchful eye. He came to fantasize about the idea of taking you to a secluded place, away from everyone, where you could live together, where he could make love to you without fear of you crying out in pleasure, away from prying eyes. Often, he spent sleepless nights considering the possibility, imagining a life where you only existed for him, where no one else could come between his love.

In his moments of deepest obsession, he would hold you tightly while whispering, "One day, my love, we will have everything we've always desired. You will be only mine, and together, nothing and no one will be able to separate us."

A/N ─── I made it very short, but I wanted to try new things. I’m not sure if you like it when I add a bit of light NSFW to the headcanons; if so, please let me know in the comments. I’m trying to experiment a bit with different styles and themes, so your opinion would be very valuable to me.

Hank needs love ♡ I really like his personality and appearance; he's my guilty pleasure u.u Sometimes I feel a little bad about how much I admire him, but at the end of the day, we all have our secrets, right? His mix of intelligence, loyalty, and that dark side that occasionally peeks through fascinates me. I'm excited to explore more of him in my writing. Don’t forget to leave your comments because I want to know what you think and what you would like to read more of in the future.

Thank you for your constant support; it means the world to me. Love you all!

Feel free to ask me anything if you want. Just go to my profile and message me; I always read your ideas and requests.

Take a Bath!

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