Fic: Mortal Fear (7/10) - NC-17 - Logan/Rogue
- Title: Mortal Fear
Series: 7/10 (end of 6: Words seemed to fail her until she spat
out, "You suck!" Logan tossed her a toothy grin and leaned
forward. "True, but I do it so well. And if you're extra nice to
me, I'll even let you be the lucky recipient of my expertise.")
Feedback: yes please
Warnings: language, sex, a bit violent.
Archive: by all means e-mail me if you would like to post on your site
Disclaimer: Naturally, I do not own the Marvel characters - the story
and characters and their histories are a blending of Movie-verse and
Comic-verse lore mixed in with a big old heapin' helping of my own
imagination (Karne-iverse) that totally brutalizes existing histories
wherever I felt it made my story.
Summary: Logan and Rogue meet; end up on the run from the Friends of
Humanity. Interesting twist to Rogue's mutation.
As it turned out, Logan had gotten them two separate rooms with a
connecting door. When Rogue emerged from the shower, a small motel
towel tucked tightly under her arms, Logan was back in her room
again. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his
broad chest, one leg crossed over the other. Even just standing
there, wearing nothing more than jeans and a leather jacket, the man
exuded so much raw masculinity Rogue's breath momentarily caught and
flickered in her chest.
He looked impatiently bored, but when he raised his bruising eyes, an
unholy smile spread across his face as he let his gaze travel up and
down her towel-swathed body. He did nothing to hide his appraisal,
and Rogue felt his eyes all over her skin like a physical
touch. "Like I said, a great body." His hungry stare fixed on her
mouth and her throat went dry. "And lips I'm just dying to see
wrapped around my dick."
Rogue groused. Way to spoil a moment. "Must you always be such a
"Always" Logan replied, his topaz eyes flashing. "Especially around
you. That mouth of yours makes me think up the nastiest shit."
Against her brain's will, Rogue found herself becoming aroused.
Logan's smirk deepened, and she couldn't help but imagine the dirty
images going through his mind images that made her heat from the
inside out and sent electricity skating through her skin. Logan's
smirk broke into a full-on grin, and Rogue felt her cheeks warm.
Strange as it might seem, the man could look almost charming at
She sighed in deliberate irritation, determined not to be swayed. "I
still have to get dressed. Do you mind?"
"I don't mind," he smirked, unabashedly eying her shower-misted
legs. "I was just checking to see if you wanted Italian or Chinese
food for dinner. I figured we should make reservations you never
know when a town with a population of three and a dog might be unable
to accommodate two for dinner."
"What a cosmopolitan choice in cuisine," Rogue muttered. "Either's
fine, really but I'm probably more in the mood for Chinese."
Logan rolled his eyes. "Then why didn't you just say Chinese?"
"Because I wanted to annoy you," Rogue chimed. She began pushing his
back, directing him towards the door. "Go make the reservations and
let me get dressed."
When she was ready, they piled into his truck to travel the short
distance to the restaurant. The cab was cold and Rogue rubbed her
gloved hands together, blowing misty breath into them to warm up as
Logan drove. An awkward silence charged the space between the two of
them, and Rogue silently chewed the inside of her cheek. "Logan?"
she finally asked. "I wasn't really scared of you. When we were,
you know together in your truck. You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah. I know," he mumbled, darting his eyes to her. "And Christ,
I said some shitty things," he grumbled. He scratched the back of
his head uncomfortably. "Sorry I called you a snotty fucking bitch.
You're not a bitch."
Rogue scowled. Only Logan could make an apology sound like an
insult. "Thanks. I'll work on the `snotty' and `fucking' parts."
"Definitely the fucking part," he replied, the corner of his mouth
Then Logan reached his hand out to her and dragged a finger down her
cheekbone. Rogue closed her eyes in sensual enjoyment of the
tingling shocks left in its wake. As he withdrew, she lifted her
eyelids, suddenly remembering how he'd also been holding her hand
earlier when she'd returned to consciousness. "Why do you keep
touching my skin?" she asked.
Logan turned to look at her. His molten gaze was so hot and
penetrating it practically scored her soft flesh. "I want you to get
used to it."
Liquidy desire drizzled down Rogue's sternum and curled her toes in
her boots. "Oh," was all she could manage to answer, and it came out
more as a sigh than a word. She might have felt cold before, but
invisible flames now licked the insides of her veins. Heated oxygen
expanded in her lungs. Suddenly, she felt stifled in her winter coat.
Logan put on his signal and turned into a parking lot; the restaurant
sprang up in front of them. He parked and the two of them scrambled
down to solid ground. Rogue hadn't realized until just then that she
hadn't eaten all day, and her stomach made small gurgling noises in
protest of the hunger strike when she got scent of food. It smelled
like dinner would be pure MSG, but she didn't particularly care at
They made their way inside and were immediately seated. Once they
settled in, Logan looked at Rogue with a look of dire earnestness and
said in a low, important-sounding voice, "I know a place you can go."
Rogue eyed him skeptically. "What do you mean `a place I can go'?"
"I'm not insane!" she blazed.
"Not that kind of institute, Marie. Would you calm down?" he hissed
in a quelling whisper, looking around at the restaurant's other
patrons. "I'm talking about a school. A school for mutants. I know
the guy who runs it Charles Xavier. He helps mutants control their
powers." The waiter arrived just then and Logan looked up at
him. "We'll have the Peking Duck special."
The waiter nodded once and repeated, "Peking Duck," before taking off
for the kitchen.
"You didn't even bother asking me if I like Peking Duck!"
"Do you like Peking Duck?"
Rogue exhaled a deep sigh of exasperation. "Yes."
Logan shrugged. "You'd be safe at Xavier's Institute; Charles would
make sure of it. He's got better security than you could ever
"I don't know," Rogue replied doubtfully in a soft voice. "The way I
can take other mutants' powers? I'm kind of a mutant among mutants,
don't you think? It's probably better if I just stick with my plan
and stay away from everyone."
"The other students will get used to you," he reassured her. Rogue
started to interrupt, but Logan continued speaking over her. "And if
they don't, fuck `em. Keep to yourself, skulk in corners. It's what
you'd be doing in motels anyway. But at least there you'd be safe
from those dickholes chasing you. And Christ, Marie, the Professor
could help you figure out how to control your mutation."
Rogue sighed and compressed her lips into a tight line. "I'll think
During the night, Rogue awoke for some unknown reason. After a
mental shrug, she snuggled deeply into her motel comforter and
quickly passed back into sleep. But she was immediately roused from
slumber once again when a large, heated body plastered against her
back and the mattress weighed heavily to one side, rolling her
towards the solid mass. An arm curled around her stomach and began
massaging one of her small breasts. There was definitely something
hard prodding her in the rear.
"Logan?" she asked, turning within his pinning grasp to face him.
"You were expecting someone else?" his familiar voice scratched.
"No, but I wasn't exactly expecting you, either." She yawned.
Rogue knuckled her eyes sleepily. "What are you doing here?"
"I want to fuck like monkeys `til dawn," he stated
Logan's tone of voice was so calm and straightforward, Rogue wasn't
sure she'd heard him correctly. She rubbed one eye with the heel of
her palm. "You want to What do you want to do?"
With deliberate annunciation on each syllable, he repeated
Rogue's eyes bulleted open. "God, Logan! What am I here to service
you every time you get an itch?"
"Nah," he responded, leaning back against the headboard, basketing
his head with his hands. "Just whenever I get a big old boner."
"Ugh!" she whispered in furious disgust. "Why do you have to be like
that? One second I'm thinking there's actually something almost
charming about you, and the next you're you're "
"Hard as a rock and looking to get laid?" he suggested through a
thick grin. "Admit it, sweetheart, you can't get enough of me."
"Oh God," Rogue sighed in resignation, dragging a frustrated hand
down her face. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I can think of a few things," Logan offered, sitting
forward. "Starting with those thick lips of yours." He ran the pad
of one thumb over her bottom lip.
Rogue closed her eyes. "Logan," she whispered across a soft wisp of
"Shhh, Marie." He pushed her heavy hair out of her face and she
lifted her lashes to look at him. "Open your mouth for me," he
He leaned in to kiss her, and Rogue parted her lips as he'd
instructed. Logan's mouth touched hers he tasted like spice and
heat. The palms of Rogue's hands pressed hard against the mattress
and the oral embrace deepened; his tongue wound through her mouth.
Warmth tingled on her lips and sleeted through her chest. She felt a
familiar tickle of need in her lower body.
In intuitive response, Logan slid a hand along Rogue's satin-clad
thigh and inserted it between her legs. The fabric of her nightgown
prevented true contact between them, but the barrier proved a minimal
deterrent to her pleasure as he forced her thighs apart and wiggled a
silk-wrapped finger to her wet entrance. Flames of delight instantly
fanned to life when he found the ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves
buried amid her feminine flesh and began massaging vigorously. Her
nightgown's sleek material created the most deliciously smooth
friction. Rogue's body wrenched in wild reaction to the almost
intolerable pleasure. She wanted him to slip those thick fingers
Rogue dazed with passion so quickly, so completely, that Logan had
the lower half of her nightgown pushed up around her waist and was
draping her knees over his shoulders before she could protest. When
she realized what he was planning, the first hints of nervousness
started building in the pit of her stomach. "Wait a minute," she
Logan shot her a lopsided grin. "Not a chance, sweetheart."
Then he licked her. Back to front, the velvet rasp of his tongue
dragging intimately across her flesh. Rogue flew into a million
pieces; her body lurched. Logan's fingers dug into her hips and
locked her lower body squarely against his rough mouth. He sucked
with crisp suction on the engorged bud at the center of her pleasure,
and her world burst into flames around her. She wanted to shriek,
but no sound came from her throat; blazing electricity broadcast
outward through every cell of her arched body. Her insides screamed
and her feet curled tightly in midair. She was so close
More. She wanted more.
Logan's tongue stabbed into her with a back-and-forth rocking motion,
each stroke curling past the hyper-sensitized nub, driving her to
maddening heights. Heat filled Rogue like a moist bubble against the
oral onslaught, pressure mounting, mounting, mounting, until the
frustrating pressure was too much and a violent kaleidoscope of
sensation erupted inside her. Her world exploded into iridescent
bliss, gushing out in warm, fluid flames. Rogue's hands coiled the
sheets. Her body buzzed.
Logan put her feet down on the mattress and spread her knees,
crawling up between them like a prowling predator. His teeth clamped
down on one nipple in the aftermath of her fast, explosive orgasm,
the pain sank through her in a way no mere tender caress could have.
Rogue felt another inexorable wave snatch her up, and she knew she'd
be tossed and carried and drowned amid the pounding surf.
An inkling of fear clutched Rogue's stomach with an icy hand and
squeezed tightly. Doubt slinked through her brain. What if she got
scared in the middle of their lovemaking? What if both of them were
too caught up in the sexual act when a panic attack began that they
couldn't stop? What if Logan collapsed on top of her, pinning her so
she was unable to push him away? She could suck him dry. She could
Anxiety began germinating within Rogue, and it wrapped an invisible,
steel band around her lungs. Her pulse rate spiked. She repelled
Logan and squirmed out from under him, scooting back against the
headboard. "Wait, no. Stop, stop, *stop*," she said, shaking her
head frantically. Her legs recoiled into her body. "I can't do
this. I mean, how are we supposed to make it work?"
Anger rose like a red floodtide on Logan's face. "Insert tab A into
slot B. Easiest directions in the world."
"No!" she insisted. "There are too many ifs. What if something
makes me afraid? We might be too preoccupied to be able to halt what
we're doing in time."
"Marie," Logan spat out in brutal incredulity. "You can't be
serious. You're not gonna leave me like this."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm just too scared."
His unnerving eyes bore into her tender skin like drill
bits. "You're fucking kidding me!"
Rogue shook her head.
"Son of a bitch!" Logan raged. "You're *killing* me here."
"I'm sorry," she reiterated. "I'm not trying to be cruel."
"Cruel doesn't even begin to cover it," he stormed. "Christ, I just
went down on you!"
Annoyance snapped at Rogue. "I didn't realize this was a game of tit
"Hell, I'd be willing to settle for a fast titty-fuck, even if it is
straight out of high school."
"Oh my God," Rogue muttered in disgust. How could she have thought
for even one millisecond that this man was remotely charming? He was
the biggest slime bag on Earth. "You know what? No one forced you
to come over here and and do what you just did. Get out, please.
Just go back to your room and take care of yourself."
"Take care of myself," Logan repeated in disbelief, his eyes
searching the ceiling for unfound inspiration. "Un-fucking-
Hot rage continued to expand within her. "Well, believe it. I'm
sorry you were how did you so eloquently word it? `Hard as a rock
and looking to get laid'? But I'm afraid life's just full of
"That's not all you're afraid of," he growled softly.
"What did you say?" she asked in restrained fury.
Logan spun on her and his flashing golden gaze sent cold tremors
cascading down her spine. He was half-dressed, his chest bare above
a pair of loose boxers. Dark hair sprinkled across angry, flexing
muscles. He was furious, like some kind of untamed
beast. "Sweetheart, you're so scared, it's pathetic. Because what
you're really scared of is how much you want me."
A sharp, indrawn breath hissed between Rogue's teeth. "No, what I'm
really scared of is acting on my urge to crack your skull in two.
But then, that would have to be one mean feat to accomplish on
someone as thickheaded as you! Now, which word of `get out' did you
"Must have been the `get'," he mumbled in disgust as he headed for
the adjoining door. "'Cause I sure as hell didn't get *any*!" He
walked to his room and slammed the adjoining door closed behind him.
Rogue folded her arms across her chest and gave a sour, "Hmmph."
There was a loud series of creaks as she heard Logan plop down onto
his bed. Great their headboards shared a wall! The unmistakable
sounds of male masturbation immediately leaked through to Rogue, and
she uncomfortably overheard every individual grunt and groan.
Logan's climax came fast and hard, and before he'd had so much as a
chance to catch his breath, she heard him snoring. She rolled her
eyes. Only a man could transition so easily from anger to self-
pleasure to slumber in the span of three minutes.
Rogue stretched her legs out along the top of the bed and leaned her
back against the headboard. Her arms were still crossed over her
chest. Sleep was not going to come for a while yet she had too
much adrenaline pumping through her veins, and her brain couldn't
stop arguing with Logan. Where did he get off? Okay, so he hadn't
gotten off, and that was kind of the point, but still! Of all the
nerve, to just *assume* As if it were something owed to him and it
had been her duty to provide it!
Rogue's silent fuming continued into the night and was only
interrupted when she heard more noises emanating from Logan's room
except this time, the sounds were loud, effortful groans. Rogue's
wordless tirade came to an abrupt halt and she pressed an ear against
their mutual wall. These were not the grunts of perfunctory
masturbation; they were long, protracted, savage moans pushing out
from the bottom of a man's diaphragm. Oh God he was he was having
sex! He was actually having sex with someone else over there! Blind
fury forked white-hot through Rogue. That despicable *bastard*!
How could he have gone from her bed, not an hour ago, into the arms
of some other woman? Oh God! Maybe it was a hooker he'd just picked
up. Forget being a slime bag the man was the lowest form of no,
even lower than that He was There weren't words loathsome enough
to describe him!
Rogue bolted out of bed and stalked across the floor. She had no
idea what she was going to say, but she was sure a few choice words
would come to her in a fit of divine inspiration. Rogue tossed wide
the door to Logan's room and stormed into his room.
To her incredible surprise, Rogue found Logan alone, thrashing wildly
in his sleep. There was no intimate coupling scene, as she'd
anticipated. A small wash of unwelcome relief flushed over her. It
was immediately followed by a sense of embarrassed resentment to her
The thin bed sheet Logan had used to cover himself was twisted and
coiled around his nearly nude body. It was as if a rowdy wrestling
match were taking place between man and bedding, and the linen was
decidedly slipping into the loser's position. Rogue's feelings of
relief were quickly overtaken by worry. Whatever Logan was seeing
behind his clenched lids was no ordinary nightmare. He looked as
though he were reliving an experience straight out of the innermost
depths of hell.
Rogue approached him, her eyes wide with uncertainty. Despite the
cold temperature, Logan's dark skin was drenched in sweat, his black
hair all but glistening with it in the filtered moonlight slitting
through the blinds. His face was screwed tightly, as if he were
suffering indescribable torture. Rogue grabbed the sheet's corner
and used it to place a hand on Logan's hot flesh. His body heat
burned like a furnace through the light cotton material. She shook
his shoulder. "Logan," she whispered.
Aside from the continued flailing of his limbs and the deep sounds of
his distress, there was no reply. Rogue redoubled her efforts,
shaking harder and hissing his name with more force and
Suddenly, he bolted awake and sat up with a loud roar, his piercing
eyes instantly digging into hers. Rogue was so startled she made a
choked sound and jumped backwards. Unfortunately, it was neither
soon enough nor far enough away to prevent pain from slicing through