eeebeee1420

[eeebeee1420]

Multitasking - Hank McCoy X Fem!reader

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hank McCoy x Fem!Reader // smut 🌶️ // 40k words

Just note that I usually envision the Hank from X-Men: TAS/'97 when writing these, but I'd say it's still general enough to fit most of his variants, honestly.

Can we PLEASE get more content of this man out here?? I don't wanna be the only one feeding the people 😭😭 (he's my favourite so expect a lot of content regarding him in the future.)

Summary: After waiting all day for Hank to finish his work, you decide to finally bother him in the lab. He insists on working just a little bit longer, so you test his ability to multitask.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ Established relationship. Thigh riding. Groping. Teasing. Seduction. Lots of making out. Pet names. Oral (f receiving). unprotected p in v. (I'm too lazy to write in protection sorry not sorry)

--------------------------------------------------------------

You sat on your bed, arms crossed, letting out a sharp huff of frustration. "Five o’clock," Hank had said. "I’ll visit you the minute I finish my work." And yet, here you were, alone at 6:30 p.m., staring at the clock as if you could rewind time and make him keep his promise.

You knew your boyfriend well enough to guess exactly what had happened. He had lost himself in his research, engrossed in some new breakthrough or experiment. It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You had known this about him from the very start, Hank McCoy’s mind never rested, always in thought. Most days you admire it, but today you weren't having it.

You had been feeling needy all day, unbearably so. A craving for his presence and touch had settled in your chest hours ago. You had been patient, so damn patient. You hadn’t texted, or called, or dared to interrupt, clinging to the hope that he would keep his word. But your patience could only stretch so far before it snapped.

You glanced at the clock again.

“Enough of this,” you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself off the bed with new resolve. If Hank wasn’t going to come to you, then you were going to him.

The mansion was quiet at this hour, but you barely noticed, your focus singular. You knew the route to his lab by heart. Down the hallway, left from the the grand staircase, taking the elevator to the lower levels.

As you approached, the mechanical door to the lab slid open with a soft hiss. Your eyes immediately landed on Hank, his broad back facing you as he sat hunched over his desk. His large fingers moved methodically, adjusting the microscope, pausing only to jot something down in his notebook. Normally, the sound of the door opening would be enough to make him glance up, but not this time. That was how you knew he was ultra-focused.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against the doorway, eyes narrowing. "Do you know what time it is, Doctor...?" Your voice was sweet, but laced with a sharp edge.

At first, Hank didn’t react. His mind barely registered your words. “The time…?” he mumbled, adjusting a knob on the microscope. “Of course, it’s…”

His sentence trailed off as something in his brain finally clicked. He straightened slightly, eyes flicking up toward the clock on the wall. The realization hit him all at once, It was 6:30. A full hour and a half past when he was supposed to be with you.

He stiffened before quickly turning in his chair to face you, his expression one of sheepish regret. “Oh, goodness,” he muttered, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his messy blue hair. “Time seems to have escaped me today.”

You remained silent, letting the weight of his mistake settle in. Hank sighed, rubbing his temple before offering you an apologetic smile. “I know I said I’d be done by five, but I just need to finish analyzing this dish. It won’t take long, my dear, I promise.”

You arched a brow, unimpressed.

“Heard that one before,” you deadpanned, pushing off the doorway and stepping further into the room. “And ‘not long’ usually means another hour of me waiting while you get lost in whatever scientific rabbit hole you’re currently digging into.” Hank opened his mouth to protest, but you weren’t finished.

“You promised, Hank.” Your voice softened just a little, but the frustration lingered. “I waited all day. And I really didn’t want to have to come down here to remind you.” His expression shifted again, guilt flickering behind those sharp blue eyes.

“Just give me five minutes,” he pleaded. “Truly, five minutes, and I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

You pursed your lips, weighing your options. Five minutes. You could be reasonable.

“fine.” you huffed, hank nodded, turning back to his work. you watched as he continued biting your lip at the sight of him.

Your arms remained crossed as you glanced down at the floor, debating whether to let him be… until an idea popped into your head. A slow, mischievous smirk curled at the corner of your lips. Without a word, you stepped closer, moving behind him. Then, ever so casually, you leaned down and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your body lightly against his back as you hugged him.

Hank’s reaction was immediate, His entire frame tensing for a moment as his eyes widened in surprise. a light blush dusted his cheeks, barely noticeable on his blue skin, but you caught it nonetheless.

“Okay,” you murmured, resting your chin against his shoulder, “I’ll let you finish… as long as I get to stay like this.”

He exhaled a short, amused huff, shaking his head as he adjusted his glasses. “As much as I love you, my dear,” he said, voice thick with barely contained amusement, “keeping you in such close proximity is quite a distraction.”

You could hear the attempt to sound firm, but you weren’t fooled. If anything, it only spurred you on. “Oh?” you teased, arms tightening just slightly around him. “You mean you get distracted this easily?”

His grip on his pen tightened as he cleared his throat, trying to remain composed. “I am simply saying that scientific analysis requires an environment free of—”

You shifted your position just enough for your breath to fan against his ear. “Free of what?” you whispered, letting the words drip with innocent curiosity, though there was nothing innocent about the way you were testing his patience. Hank froze for a fraction of a second before sighing. He looked up at you over his shoulder, his gold eyes narrowed, but the small smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“You’re playing with me,” he stated.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Hey, I’m just saying, if you’re such a renowned scientist, then a little hug from your girlfriend shouldn’t put you off track.” Hank let out a knowing hum, his smirk growing as he adjusted his glasses. “Ah, I see,” he mused. “So that’s the game we’re playing.”

You only gave a Cheshire grin in response, resting your chin back on his shoulder. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Hank chuckled. “Darling, I’ve outmaneuvered world-class intellectuals, rewritten the boundaries of modern biophysics, and engaged in debates with the likes of Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr. And yet, somehow…” He leaned ever so slightly back into you, resting a finger on his chin as if truly pondering it. “…none of them have been nearly as persistent in derailing my work as you.”

You smirked. “I am pretty special.”

“Mm. That you are.”

For a moment, he let the silence stretch between you, allowing you to grow comfortable in your supposed victory. But then, without warning, his hands shot down to your arms, fingers gripping gently but firmly as he twisted in his chair. Before you could react, you found yourself unceremoniously pulled forward, losing your balance and stumbling right into his lap with a startled yelp.

Hank caught you with ease, one arm looping around your waist as he leaned back against the chair, now looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Now then,” he said smoothly, tilting his head at you, “what was it you were saying about me being distracted?”

Your heart was pounding, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. You crossed your arms, lifting a brow. “This seems counterproductive. You could have just let me stand there and gotten your work done.”

“Oh, no, my dear,” Hank replied, his grin widening as his free hand idly rested on your thigh. “I’ve learned that when you set your mind to something, resistance is futile. So, if you insist on being a distraction, then I may as well properly acknowledge it.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the way his fingers skimmed along your leg, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “So now you’re just giving in?”

Hank hummed, as if considering his next move. Then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned in. “I wouldn’t call it ‘giving in’…” His voice was lower now, teasing, playful. “…I’d call it scientific adaptation.”

Your stomach flipped, and for the first time in this little game, you were the one caught off guard.

Damn it.

He smirked, clearly noticing. “Ah. Now you’re quiet.”

You narrowed your eyes. "A person can’t do two different things at once, y’know. It’s either one or the other.” You retorted, struggling to regain your composure despite the heat creeping up your neck and coloring your cheeks.

Hank's eyes gleamed with amusement behind his glasses. “An interesting hypothesis,” he mused, his tone shifting ever so slightly, dropping to that rich, velvety timbre that always seemed to send your pulse skittering. “Would you like to test it?”

You shifted in his lap, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation, but his proximity made it nearly impossible. "W-what are you suggesting?" You couldn't hide the way your voice wavered.

"well, I’ve always found that there’s a certain… balance between mind and body when multitasking. And I have a feeling we might be able to test whether two activities can truly coexist.” His gaze was steady, unwavering, and though his words were soft, the intent behind them was crystal clear. “I—” you paused, the words catching in your throat.

"What if I’m right?" you challenged. "What if you can’t focus on both?" His lips curled into a knowing smile, his grip tightening just slightly around your waist as he pulled you closer. "Then we'll have learned something new, won't we?" he said smoothly.

"Though what if I'm right?" He asked. "If I can, in fact, manage to multitask efficiently?" You swallowed hard, trying to keep it together despite the way his thumb was now tracing lazy circles against your hip. "Then I guess you win."

"Hmm." His eyes darkened behind his glasses. "And what exactly would I win, my dear?"

The lab suddenly felt several degrees warmer as you held his gaze. "Me. For the rest of the night. No complaints.” Hank chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "A tempting prize indeed.”

You expected him to continue the game and the teasing banter, but instead, he caught you completely off guard. With one swift movement, he shifted you, guiding you until you were straddling his thigh. A small, startled squeak escaped your lips before you could stop it, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. Your wide eyes flicked up to meet his, only to find him… completely composed. As if this was nothing more than a casual repositioning.

“Five minutes,” he said, his tone suddenly businesslike, betraying not a single hint of amusement as he set a timer on his wrist watch.

Then, just like that, he turned back to his work. He picked up his pen, eyes returning to his notes, his posture completely relaxed. You blinked, momentarily thrown. “Hank…” you whined, shifting slightly, testing just how much freedom you had. He didn’t respond, not looking at you. His expression remained unchanged as though you weren’t currently perched in his lap, desperate for his attention.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “What? That’s it? You’re just gonna ignore me?”

Still no verbal response. Instead, he adjusted his hold on your hip ever so slightly… and then began bouncing his leg beneath you.

A small gasp escaped your lips as the sudden movement sent a jolt of sensation through you. Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance. You didn’t realize how badly your heat needed attention. even just the movement of his leg was enough friction to give you pleasure.

You gaped at him. “A-are you–are you seriously—?”

He bounced his leg a little harder, and you gasped. His brow arched slightly, and he gave the barest glance in your direction. “Do you need to move, my dear? You seemed quite comfortable a moment ago.”

You bit your lip hard, gripping his shoulders again, only able to growl under your breath in response.

“Four minutes and thirty seconds remaining,” Hank said. His tone was cold, but the deliberate bounce of his thigh was anything but. The friction coaxed a small, helpless whimper from your throat before you could stop it.

Hank’s pen paused just long enough to let you know he heard you. But he didn’t look up, just kept writing. Your breath stuttered, growing heavier as the ache inside you bloomed hotter. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against the firm muscle of his thigh as he bounced it beneath you.

His free hand finally slid under the hem of your shirt, fingers tracing lightly over your skin. Then upward until they found your bra. You gasped softly when his thumb began to brush back and forth over your breast through the fabric. “Hank…” you moaned, voice breathy and intentionally soaked in longing, hoping that would be enough to break his facade, but he didn’t budge.

“I did say five minutes,” he muttered, “You’re the one who agreed to those terms.”

“I hate you,” you hissed, voice trembling as you rutted down harder, chasing friction he was clearly in no rush to give.

“No, you don’t,” Hank said simply, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he flicked his thumb across your nipple through your bra. “And if you do… I must say, your methods of protest are rather counterintuitive.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, the knot in your core winding tighter. You checked his watch. Three minutes left. You weren’t sure you were going to survive them. Hank’s leg continued its steady rhythm beneath you. Every subtle sent jolts of pleasure through your core. The pen in his right hand scratched smoothly across the page, jotting down readings, measurements, the occasional annotation. He adjusted a dial on his microscope with the same calm ease he used to flick his thumb over your nipple, like both acts were of equal scientific merit.

His left hand, the one under your shirt, had grown bolder, pushing the fabric of your bra aside to roll the sensitive bud between his fingers. “P-please–” you whined

“Two minutes,” he said, not looking up. You glared at him through half-lidded eyes, though it lacked any real venom.

Your expression dropped, however, when his hand moved down, slipping under your skirt. His touch was light on your inner thighs at first, teasing, but even as he toyed with you, he didn’t stop working. His eyes flicked between the microscope and his notes, the bastard was actually doing it.

You couldn’t tell if you were more annoyed or aroused by his success. Probably both.

Your hips bucked involuntarily as his fingers moved up, pushing your panties aside and finding the slick heat between your thighs. He chuckled under his breath, finally casting a glance at you. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “Stimuli appear to intensify rather than interrupt my focus. You may be a more potent variable than anticipated.” You let out a trembling moan as his fingers dipped deeper, running his fingers up and down your slit.

For as strong as he was, even Hank McCoy wasn’t immune forever.

As you started to shudder, thighs tightening around his leg, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, and this time, his pen slipped. A line scratched too far, Ink smudged across the margin. You met his eyes, breathless. “Uh-oh,” you teased. “You slipped.”

He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring. “A minor deviation. Hardly conclusive.”

But you could see it in his eyes. The tremble of his jaw, the tightness of his grip on your waist.

As the final sixty seconds dissipated, so did your patience. You couldn’t take it anymore, the way he kept one hand buried between your thighs while the other continued scribbling notes like you weren’t so close to cumming in his lap. As the timer on his watch finally beeped in completion, you surged forward and crashed your lips against his.

Hank froze. His pen hovered motionless in the air, caught mid-thought as your mouth moved hungrily against his. The pen fell from his hand, forgotten, as both arms came to life. One slid behind your head, fingers diving into your hair with a desperate grip. The other curled tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back.

The kiss was an explosion of everything he’d been restraining. All that meticulous discipline shattered in seconds. His glasses tilted askew, his chair creaked beneath the motion. Even though Hank had technically won, even though he had multitasked, you knew he struggled doing it. Every second of this experiment had cost him more than he’d ever admit.

Hank pulled away just enough to look at you, his breathing uneven as he turned off the alarm on his watch.

“Ah—well…” he panted softly, still catching his breath. “It appears I was indeed correct in trusting my ability to multitask.”

You huffed, chest heaving as your heart pounded wildly. “Oh please,” you scoffed, trying to summon indignation despite the way your thighs still trembled. “Don’t act like you didn’t struggle.”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze narrowing in mock consideration. “Yes… I must admit,” he murmured, “I found it rather difficult to ignore your blatant lewdness.” Your face went scarlet. “Y-You—! You were the one feeding into it!” you sputtered, mortified. “Touching me like that, bouncing your leg like that!”

He had the nerve to laugh. A full-bodied, rumbling chuckle. “Ah, well,” he said, “as I recall, you agreed to the terms. And in the end…” He leaned in again, voice dropping, “I prevailed.”

“Barely.” You scowled. He arched a brow in amusement. “Nevertheless. A victory’s a victory.” He let the moment hang there before leaning back slightly. “And now,” he said, tilting your chin with his thumb and forefinger, “I believe it’s time you held up your end of the bargain.”

You huffed, crossing your arms with a crooked smirk tugging at your lips. “Fine. Deal’s a deal, so… you get me for the rest of the night. Any way you want. No complaints.”

“What a wonderful prize,” he growled, his voice gravel-edged in a way that sent shivers down your spine. In one swift motion he stood, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You gasped, your arms flying up to loop loosely around his neck just as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

That’s when you His hardness through the layers of his slacks, pressing against your aching heat. You inhaled sharply, your entire body going taut with anticipation. His grip on you tightened possessively, one hand splayed against your back while the other supported you beneath. He dipped his head to your neck. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” he murmured. “All that writhing in my lap… those little sounds you kept making…”

You whimpered, pressing your hips forward just enough to drag yourself against his length, your arousal growing by the second. “I thought you were multitasking,” you managed breathlessly. “I was,” he rumbled, pulling you tighter. “But now… I intend to give you my undivided attention.” With that, he started walking across the lab, not bothering to mask his arousal or your eager cling to him.

“Wh-where are we going?” you breathed. “To make good on your promise,” Hank said, kicking open the door to the small adjoining quarters he sometimes used to nap between long research sessions. “And to make absolutely certain that, by morning, you’ll never again question my ability to perform under pressure.”

He tossed you gently onto the bed, climbing over you with a heat in his eyes that made your breath catch. You barely had time to gasp before Hank’s mouth was on yours again. His weight pressed you down into the mattress, caging you in. His kiss was different now. Gone was the slow, teasing game from before. This was far more harsh. When he finally pulled back, his breath was warm against your cheek as he looked down at you.

“You said no complaints,” he reminded you. “I trust you won’t break the rules of your own agreement.” You stared up at him, mouth slightly parted. “I won’t,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” he murmured. His hands moved quickly, one unbuttoning your shirt while the other went to pull down your skirt. His touch was skilled, clinical in its efficiency but far from cold. You shivered under him, breath catching as he discarded your clothes.

He sat back for a moment, drinking you in like a man starved. “Exquisite,” he said, almost to himself. “And all mine.” You whimpered as his hands returned, greedier. When his mouth descended to your chest, tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking gently, you arched into him with a soft cry.

“Still composed?” he asked between kisses. “Hardly,” you gasped. His hands slipped lower, and in one smooth motion, he stripped you of your panties and pushed your legs apart. The cool air hit your heat, making you shiver, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his breath.

You barely had time to register what he was doing before his mouth was on you. He licked and sucked your clit, holding your hips down with firm hands as your back arched off the mattress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, legs trembling around his shoulders as the pressure built in your core.

“H-Hank!”

He hummed into you, the sound going straight to your core. You cried out, hands fisting the sheets. He pulled back just enough to murmur, “Let go, my darling. You’ve been so very patient.”

He lapped at your wet heat, pleasuring you as you squirmed beneath him. Your orgasm crashed over you white-hot. You cried out his name, legs clamping around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. He stayed there until you relaxed, his mouth never leaving you entirely, easing you down with soft licks and kisses. When he finally rose, he had a satisfied smirk on his face “That was quick…” he rasped, “feeling a little sensitive today, are we?”

You could barely speak, but you managed a breathless laugh. “Shut up.” His grin sharpened as he leaned down to kiss you again. You then reached between your bodies with shaky hands, fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He didn’t stop you, he only broke the kiss to mumble, “There we are… brilliant as ever.”

Your heart fluttered at the praise, but your body was aching for more than compliments. With one smooth motion, he pushed his slacks down just far enough, groaning softly when your hand brushed over the hardness you’d felt earlier. It was almost overwhelming how ready he was.

“Hank…” you whispered, breathless. He paused only long enough to look down at you, one hand cradling your cheek, the other steadying himself above you. “I have no intention of being gentle tonight,” he said, voice low and rough. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But otherwise—”

You lifted your hips in answer, wrapping your legs around him. “just fuck me already.”

He didn’t need any more permission.

With one smooth thrust, he pushed into you dragging a long moan from your throat as your body adjusted around him. The stretch was perfect. You gripped his back, nails digging into his fur as he filled you completely.

He groaned, deep and guttural, burying his face in your neck. “You feel… divine.” He pulled back only to drive into you again, harder this time, and it knocked another cry out of you. His rhythm quickly built. It was controlled at first, but it was clear he wouldn’t last long. Not with the way you clenched around him. Every thrust hit deep, like winning the game hadn’t been enough, He wanted to claim you.

your soft cries echoed off the walls of the dimly lit room. He grunted your name, over and over, each time more desperate than the last.

You clung to him, your body trembling as he mercilessly thrusted into you “H-Hank—I’m gonna—!” You came, crying out his name once more as your body tightened, then released onto him. Hank’s rhythm faltered, hips stuttering as he chased his own end. The feel of you pulsing around him was enough to get him there.

With one final thrust, he groaned your name and came hard, burying himself deep as he spilled into you. He stayed there, panting as he collapsed forward, catching himself just before crushing you beneath his weight.

A silence followed, filled only by your shared, gasping breaths. You ran a hand slowly up the fur of his back. “Who knew multitasking could be so rewarding?” He said.

You let out a soft, wrecked laugh into the crook of his neck. “Ugh, I'm never doing that again.”

“Well,” he murmured, “I am a scientist you know, it would be unbecoming of me to not test this again going forward.” You groaned and swatted at him half-heartedly, but you didn’t let go, and neither did he.

[eeebeee1420]

The Best at what he does

--------------------------------------------------------------

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader // smut 🌶️ // 20k words

I've been writing stuff like this for a long while and I was always hesitant to post it, but honestly I've been pretty proud of what I've been making recently so I figured I'd finally share it lol.

I have a lot in the archives, so I'm posting a few right off the bat. I also have some headcanons and other stuff I'll be posting.

A lot of these are based on stuff I personally enjoy but if you happen to enjoy it too then I'm happy! :)

Summary: Wanting to get some training in hand-to-hand combat, you ask Logan to teach and train you to fight. Things get a little wild before you come to realize...maybe sparring with your boyfriend isn't the smartest idea. (If you want to get real training done)

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ wrestling. Teasing. Teacher Logan. Swearing. Manhandling. Pinning. dirty talk. fingering. Rough sex. unprotected p in v. (Wrap it before you tap it fr)

--------------------------------------------------------------

You knew Logan could be rough, but nothing had prepared you for the reality of being fully pinned beneath him on the floor of the Danger Room, your back pressing into the padded mat, his weight straddling your hips.

This wasn’t how you thought your training session would go. Then again, it was your idea.

You’d wanted to amp up your combat skills. Your mutation had always carried you through fights, but raw power alone wouldn’t always cut it. You needed to practice your hand–to–hand combat. And who better to teach you than your boyfriend, Logan? He’s the best at what does and what he does is kick major ass.

“No powers,” you had said. “I want to earn it for real.”

Logan had given you a half-smirk. “You sure about that, darlin’? I play rough.”

“That’s the whole damn point,” you shot back, arms crossed. “If I wanted someone to hold my hand, I’d have asked Ororo.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “You asked for it.”

And now here you were, breathing hard under him, body slick with sweat, hair clinging to your face while he hovered above with a grin on his lips. From the first moment, he hadn’t gone easy. Each dodge, hit, and feint felt like a fight for your life. You could tell he was holding back, yet he was still overwhelming. He never stopped moving, never gave you an inch. And when you’d finally let your guard drop for a split second, he lunged, tackling you down so fast your head spun.

“C’mon,” he growled. “You’re not even tryin’.”

“I am!” you snapped, your voice strained as you squirmed under his grip. Your arms twisted beneath his grasp, legs kicking uselessly against the mat. “You’re just cheating!” He arched his brow. “Cheating, huh?” His voice was low and smug against your ear. “Yeah right, get real.”

With a guttural breath, you gathered every ounce of strength left in your body. Your muscles strained, trembling violently under the weight of his grip as you fought to push his arms back. He was pinning you down like it was nothing. But you weren’t gonna be fragile now, not with him watching you like that.

Your teeth clenched, a low growl leaving your throat as you somehow managed to shift your arms up off the mat. Sweat rolled down your temple, your biceps ached, and you moved him. Logan stilled for a second, His brows lifted in surprise. There was a flicker of something proud in his eyes. “I can do it,” you snarled, voice shaking with effort as you glared up at him. “Just watch me.”

But the moment didn’t last. That spark of pride in his eyes gave way to something darker. Without warning, his arms flexed, and all at once, the strength you’d barely gathered was swallowed in a blink. He forced your wrists back down over your head, pinning them to the mat with ease.

Logan leaned down until his chest pressed against yours, his lips brushing your ear. “Not bad,” he rasped. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to get outta this.”

“Khh…” You hissed as the pressure of his body pushed against you, your breath catching in your throat. His weight wasn’t crushing, but it certainly was a reminder of just how much stronger he was. You glared up at him, cheeks flushed. “Some teacher you are,” you snapped, defiant even as your wrists were still pinned above your head. “You're just gonna sit on me so I can’t even move? What kinda training is that, huh?”

His mouth curled into a sharp grin. “Ah, sounds like someones a sore loser,” he quipped. “You're acting like there's nothin’ you can do, but we both know that's wrong.”

“But fine. You want me to teach you?” His hips shifted against yours. “Then here’s the first lesson—”

Suddenly he released your wrists, only to grab your hips and flip you, your chest hitting the mat with a soft thud and his body was on top of yours again, his hands bracketing either side of your head.

“Never assume the fight’s over just ‘cause you’re on the bottom.” You gasped, trying to twist around, but he caught your wrists again, pulling them behind your back in a firm grip, pinning them in one hand. His other palm slid slowly down your side, fingers dragging over your ribs, your waist, lingering just above your ass.

“There’s a way out of this,” Logan murmured as he held you firmly against the mat. “A way to turn the tables and flip the whole damn fight if you’re quick enough.”

You scoffed, breathless and irritated. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, huh?

Logan chuckled against your neck. “C’mon, darlin’. Wouldn’t be much of a teacher if I just told you, now would I?” His hand slipped from your pinned wrists to your waist, palm spanning the curve of your hip before dragging down slowly. “Lessons stick better when you learn ‘em the hard way.”

You twisted underneath him, trying to throw him off balance, but he shifted easily with you, pressing his weight down more deliberately this time, grinding slow and purposeful as he pinned your wrists to your lower back again. “Feel that?” he asked. “That edge of frustration? That’s instinct tryin’ to break free. You want out, you just haven’t figured out how to take it.”

“Ugh! stop talking in riddles and give me a fucking clue already!” you growled.

“Don't need me to spell it out for ya,” he stated. “You’ll know when to strike if you stop thinkin' ‘bout it so hard.” He said as he shifted again.

And that's when you felt it. The pressure of his grip slackened just enough, his weight subtly shifted off-center. He was giving you a way in, so you took it. you gritted your teeth, gathered every ounce of focus you had left, and moved. You twisted your hips sharply, throwing your weight to one side while kicking your leg up and out, trying to shift your center of gravity beneath him. Logan rolled with you just enough to keep things fluid, but not enough to make it easy.

His voice was a low purr at your ear. “Not bad… but you’re leadin’ with brute strength. Use your hips as leverage, not force.”

You swallowed hard, your breath ragged as you took in what he said. You shifted again, grinding your hips low and twisting hard into him while planting one foot against the mat and pushed off the ground.

Suddenly, he flipped. You landed on top, straddling his hips, hands pressed into his chest, your eyes wide in disbelief. He grinned up at you. “There she is,” he said, voice low and rough. “Took ya long enough.” You glared down at him, chest heaving. “You let me do that.”

“I gave you the opening,” he corrected. “You’re the one who took it.” His hands came to rest lightly on your thighs. “Well?” he drawled. “What’re ya gonna do now, tough girl? You earned the top spot. Gonna just sit there and soak it in, or are you gonna do something about it?”

You swallowed, your eyes narrowing. “I’m thinking,” you said, a little breathless.

“Mm.” He tilted his head back slightly. “Take your time. I’m enjoyin’ the view.”

You grunted, taking a moment to catch your breath. Though in that moment, you could feel him under you.

“You—you’re—!” you stammered, the words catching in your throat.

He was hard, his shaft straining against the fabric beneath you. It sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. Your breath hitched as the realization hit that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You huffed, trying to regain your composure. “You’re supposed to be helping me,” you snapped as you shifted on top of him. “Not—khh…” That low sound escaped your throat again, half growl, half whimper, as the motion sent a rush of pleasure through your core. You bit down hard on your lip, refusing to let him see how flustered you were.

Logan’s eyes glinted with amusement. His hands gripped your thighs a little tighter, finger tips digging in just enough to remind you whose body you were sitting on. “I am helping you,” he said, his voice a gravelly drawl. “And I’m impressed, sweetheart. Didn’t think you had this kinda fire in you.”

Your eyes narrowed instantly, heat flashing in your chest. He underestimated you. You jabbed a finger into his chest, teeth gritted. “I may not know jack shit about fighting, but I sure as hell won’t sit around and be pushed arou—”

Before the sentence was even fully out of your mouth, Logan moved. You barely had time to register it before one of his hands shot up from your thigh, caught your wrist mid-poke, and yanked you down hard against him your chest colliding with his as he twisted, rolling you over in one smooth, practiced motion until you were on your back again, breath knocked from your lungs, his hands pinned beside your head.

His thigh was now wedged firmly between your legs, his face hovering just inches from yours. “Here’s another lesson for ya,” he growled. “You wanna square up with someone stronger than you, you better make damn sure you don’t give ’em an opening.”

Your breath came in shallow gasps. You tried to buck your hips up, but he held you fast, his hand sliding up your wrist to lace his fingers through yours, pinning them harder into the mat.

“And second?” he murmured, leaning in so close you could feel his breath against your lips. “Don’t make threats with a body that’s beggin’ to be taken.”He rocked his hips forward pressing his knee up against your heat enough to make you gasp.

“Shit…” you panted, your head tipping back against the mat as your chest heaved. “I’m—I’m supposed to be training, not…” Your words trailed off as he moved a hand to trail along your torso, and your body responded in kind. Back arching up, thighs twitching around his leg.

He smirked against your skin, nose brushing the side of your jaw, stubble scraping your skin roughly. “Not what?” he murmured, his voice low, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Not soakin’ through those training shorts? Well sweetheart, you’re doin’ a pretty shitty job of that so far.”

You swallowed a whimper, squirming beneath him. You hated how your body betrayed you, how easily you melted under his weight. “I—” you tried to protest, but his hand slid up your side, beneath your shirt, calloused palm dragging over your rib cage until it cupped one of your breasts through your bra.

“L-Logan–!” you squealed, voice cracking. Logan merely chuckled in response.

“God.” you gasped out, your voice a breathy snarl as you writhed beneath him, your core throbbing from the friction of his knee still pressed up against you. “Don’t tell me you get off on seeing me squirm like this.”

Logan’s grin was nothing short of feral. He leaned in until his lips barely brushed yours as his hand left your breast, sliding down to palm the heat between your legs through your shorts. “Oh, that’s definitely part of it,” he remarked, watching your eyes flutter as he rubbed slow circles over your clothed cunt, teasing just enough to make your hips chase his hand. “But mostly…”

He let his mouth trail down the line of your jaw, nipping at your throat. “…I like seein’ that fire in ya.” He punctuated the word with a firmer press against your clit, drawing a sharp, needy cry from your lips. “You’ve got fight in ya, Darlin’. I just like pushin’ it.”

You gasped, hands scratching his shoulders as he finally hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and dragged them down, letting his knuckles brush your soaked underwear as he went.

“Fuck...” he growled when he saw the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric. “All that mouthin’ off an’ you’re so damn needy for me already.” He leaned back just slightly, eyes raking over your body now half-bared beneath him. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, the curve of your hips, the way your thighs instinctively parted as he continued to touch.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words turned to air as his fingers finally slid beneath your underwear and in.

“Logan—!” you gasped, hips jerking up into his touch as two thick fingers pushed through your folds. “Yeah, I feel that,” he rasped, voice hungry as he dragged his fingers slowly through your soaked heat, spreading it over your clit before dipping back down, teasing your entrance. “Hot, wet, desperate. you’ve been ready for me since the second I had ya on your back, eh?”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, the stretch making you whimper, walls clenching around the rough, calloused digits curled deep inside you.

“Fuck, Logan!” your head tipped back, mouth falling open as he found your sweet spot almost immediately. His fingers stroked against it ruthlessly, each pump dragging a filthy, wet sound from between your thighs that made your face burn with embarrassment, But Logan loved it. You could see it in the way the corner of his mouth twitched up into that cocky, wicked grin as he watched you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he purred. “C’mon, sweetheart, let go. Let me see what that mouthy little attitude sounds like when it’s moanin’ my name.” Your thighs shook as he angled his hand just right, his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust of his fingers. Your hips rolled time with the rhythm he set like your muscles had a mind of their own.

“Shit—Logan, I’m gonna–!”

You came hard. Your back arched, legs shaking as your walls fluttered around his fingers, a cry breaking out from your throat. Logan kept his hand right where it was, fingers thrusting slow and deep through every wave, drawing it out. Only when your legs finally fell slack did he ease his fingers out, glistening with your release. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them slowly between his lips, eyes still locked on yours, before pulling them out of his mouth with a lewd pop

“Lesson three,” he stated. “Trainin’ works a hell of a lot better when your head’s in it… but I don’t mind helpin’ you lose it now and then.”

Your thighs still twitched from the aftershocks when Logan leaned over you again. His eyes burned into yours, half-lidded with lust, as he rolled his hips forward just enough for you to feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your soaked folds through the fabric of his jeans. You whimpered as he shifted his hips again, teasing your sensitive clit with the head of his cock through your underwear. You could feel how hard he was, his cock pulsing.

“Logan,” you breathed, eyes wide. He met your gaze with a flash of heat, and in the next heartbeat, he was tugging your underwear down your legs. You barely had time to process the sound of his zipper lowering, and his belt unbuckling before you felt him grinding through your slick folds. Logan growled, dragging the head of his cock through your arousal. “So fuckin’ wet for me… practically beggin’ for it.” With a growl, Logan gripped your hips hard and pushed in slow, stretching you inch by inch until your back arched and your nails raked down his back.

“So fuckin’ tight…” he snarled through gritted teeth. You choked on a moan as he bottomed out, buried to the hilt inside you. “Still got that fire?” he asked against your throat as he pulled back just enough to slam into you again, harder this time. “’Cause I’m not lettin’ you tap out now.”

You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he began to move, each thrust powerfully deep, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the training room. You were already so sensitive, every stroke sending another wave of heat rolling through you, your moans climbing higher with every rough roll of his hips.

His hand slipped under your ass, lifting you slightly to change the angle, and when he slammed in again, he hit the spot that made you cry out in bliss. “There,” he growled, sweat dripping from his brow as he rutted into you. “That’s the spot, ain’t it? Gonna make you come again on my cock.”

Your body was already building toward another climax, and he could feel it in the way your walls tightened around him. “Cum for me,” he demanded, biting down and sucking on your neck just hard enough to leave a mark.

And you did, calling out his name in a cry as you came again, harder this time. Your walls clenched down around him and he swore loudly, fucking you through it until finally…

“Fuck!” he snarled, hips snapping one last time as he came deep inside you, growling through his teeth as he emptied every last drop with a groan. The only sound afterward was your combined panting, his weight heavy but comforting on top of you.

After a moment, he lifted his head, grinning lazily down at you.

“Final lesson,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “Best you train with someone like Rogue instead of me. Unless you want this happening again."