Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

Fic: Mortal Fear (10/10) - NC-17 - Logan/Rogue

Expand Messages
  • karen_feigenbaum <kfeigenb@hotmail.com>
    Ok – end of the trail. Thank you all so much for accompanying me this short while on my journey. I ve had a blast! Title: Mortal Fear Author: Karne-age
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 22, 2003
    • 0 Attachment
      Ok – end of the trail. Thank you all so much for accompanying me
      this short while on my journey. I've had a blast!

      Title: Mortal Fear
      Author: Karne-age
      Pairing: Logan/Rogue
      Rating: NC-17
      Series: 10/10 (end of 9: The last of Rogue's adrenaline sapped out,
      and she snuggled back against Logan, surrendering to the deep
      exhaustion splintering her bones)
      Feedback: yes please
      Warnings: language, sex, violence
      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.


      Logan awoke and inhaled. Marie. Her tangy scent invaded his
      senses. His eyes creaked open and he saw a sleep-tousled mess of her
      hair splayed across the pillow in front of him. He felt her skin
      beneath his calloused fingers. Her body was tucked flush against
      his, her buttocks nestled into his rapidly expanding groin. Logan
      slid his hand up and down her torso, surprised to find she wore
      nothing more than underwear and a bra. Her flesh was pebbled in
      goosebumps. God that's hot, flashed wildly in his brain.

      Logan's fingertips moved boldly along the curves of Rogue's small
      body, and he felt her begin to stir awake. She looked so pale and
      fragile in the blue light slashing through the blinds from the
      parking lot outside. The image of her from hours earlier – limp,
      dangling, bloody – blinked over and over in his mind. Anger and fear
      and a sense of overwhelming relief flooded through Logan's system.
      He pushed Rogue's hair aside and sank his mouth onto the tender flesh
      of her neck; his arm curled insistently around her delicate waist.

      "Logan?" came Rogue's muffled, waking question.

      "God dammit, Marie," Logan whispered harshly, his body straining
      intently against hers. His thigh split her legs from behind, rubbing
      across her sensitive flesh.

      Rogue inhaled sharply and awoke. "Wuh--?" she asked thickly.

      "How could you just walk away?" he seethed against her heating skin,
      his throat clogged with an unidentifiable ache.

      Logan's fingers slipped inside her panties and began plucking and
      teasing out the hypersensitive knot at the focal point of her
      pleasure. Rogue moaned a cracked sound; her body bowed. "Logan!"
      she cried out.

      "You didn't even talk to me," Logan fumed quietly. "Just left a
      fucking note!"

      Logan yanked her underwear down uncivilly and a groan stuttered out
      of Rogue. Maintaining pressure on her plump clitoris, Logan pushed
      his jeans down his thighs. He retrieved a condom from his back
      pocket, ripped open the wrapper, and slid it on.

      Logan's teeth sank into that tender spot where neck meets shoulder,
      but he didn't break her flesh. "Do you have any idea how much you
      fucking scared me?" he breathed into Rogue's neck. "Do you know what
      it was like to find you bleeding to death?"

      Then Logan buried himself in her from behind with a brutal jab.
      There was mortal need wrapped up in the claim of her body, and for
      one shimmering moment, that single wet, ruthless stroke stole his
      breath. Rogue gulped out a smothered cry. Some invisible force hit
      Logan square in the solar plexus and his chest twisted into a tight
      tangle of emotion. When he didn't move, Rogue snaked her hand around
      and dug her fingers into his buttocks in mute plea. His paralysis
      broke. Logan exhaled and began swirling his finger on her taut
      clitoris once more, his lower body pumping – slowly at first, then
      increasing in both speed and ferocity – in an inexorable push and
      pull. God, he wanted to lose himself between her soft thighs.

      Sinking into Rogue was like coming home. Logan closed his eyes and a
      shudder wracked his body as he picked up momentum. He didn't want to
      be charming. He didn't want to be gentle. Logan needed to feel
      Rogue alive and in his arms in the most visceral, elemental way he'd
      ever experienced needing a woman. He wanted to fuck her senseless
      and cherish her limitlessly. A vicious snarl sprang unbidden from
      his lips as his violent tempo increased, his hard thighs ramming her
      from behind.

      Logan's hips pistoned faster, and the engorged knot of flesh beneath
      his fingertips became even more slippery. His brain throbbed madly,
      every synapse firing frantically. Rogue's tight body enveloped him,
      clutched him, as if in a fist. Logan slicked his full length into
      her, every thrust sending an intense wave of rapture sizzling up his
      flesh. Each inhalation was a wild hit of damp sexual need, the tangy
      salt of sweat, and that elusive scent that was solely Rogue's.

      A dangerous mix of necessity and anger and fear and something a
      little bit desperate swamped Logan, contracting to a pinpoint of
      pinching tension – sweet, aching, singing tension – and then bursting
      forth in climax. His body jerked and bucked below Rogue's turned-up
      ass as he emptied himself into her. He roared out in convulsive
      release.

      With his singeing orgasm, the last of Logan's immediate energy seeped
      out of him. He crumpled limply into the mattress, panting into
      Rogue's back and hearing her exhausted respiration mirrored in the
      echoing darkness.

      Rolled up on his side, cupping Rogue's sweat-soaked body into his,
      Logan's thoughts quickly turned sour. Christ, he'd never taken a
      woman so savagely before. Logan's sexual appetite had always been so
      inherently frightening to women, he'd never before allowed himself
      free rein of his passion. Not as if it had ever mattered, though…his
      lovers had still always been nervous of him.

      *Except for Marie*. The realization bounced like an excited particle
      in his brain. Logan had never before experienced completely
      unleashed sex as he had with Rogue. That time with her in his truck,
      her bravery had ridden on the tails of borrowed energy… But not this
      time. And it was clear she wasn't remotely scared. In fact, all of
      Logan's senses indicated quite the opposite. The implicit trust that
      accompanied her absence of fear was the most priceless gift he could
      imagine receiving.

      Then Logan heard soft sniveling in the dark, and he spun Rogue around
      to face him. "Shit!" he exclaimed. "I hurt you!"

      "Hush up," she said in denial. "I… It's just…" Rogue swiped at the
      tears sparkling on her cheeks and breathed a choppy stammer of
      air. "I'm just going to miss you so much when you leave." Tears
      welled up once more in her large eyes and spilled over.

      "Hey, hey, hey," Logan replied, trying futilely to halt her weeping
      with the pads of his thumbs as fat drops rolled over the backs of his
      hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

      Rogue smiled faintly, her eyes glazed in a cast of sorrow as they
      dropped to his chest. "You will. Once I tell you what I know."

      Logan's movements slowed and he repeated her uneasy words, "What you
      know…"

      Rogue nodded sadly in reply and swallowed. "God, Logan, there's so
      much… You're even older than you think. Did you know you were in
      World War One?" Her gaze remained locked below his chin as she
      murmured the question in a low voice.

      Logan shook his head in slow disbelief. "No."

      "You were," Rogue drawled. "And you were in Japan before that…maybe
      even as many as fifty or sixty years earlier."

      "You saw more of my memories?" he asked dumbly.

      "Yes. I saw a lot. I…well, I *took* a lot, right?" Rogue admitted
      with a shrug of shame. "Did you know the metal of your claws – it's
      grafted to your entire skeleton?"

      "No," Logan answered in quiet incredulity, but an irritating kernel
      inside his brain rubbed at him, telling him he knew she was telling
      the truth. Strange, dreadful curiosity wrapped cold fingers around
      his heart. "I thought my sturdy bones were a result of my strong
      immunity," he muttered in a gravelly voice.

      "No – it's because of that metal…and it isn't natural. It runs
      throughout your whole body. Put there by men." Her thick lashes
      finally lifted to meet his gaze. Her lower lip wobbled, but she kept
      talking. "You lost your memory because people experimented on you.
      They cut you open and…and did that to you. And they did it because
      they knew about your mutation. They knew you'd be able to survive
      the operation. But it nearly killed you. I…" she cut off, her voice
      wavering.

      "What?" Logan goaded. He wasn't quite sure he wanted Rogue to
      continue, but he prompted her anyway. It felt as though a giant hole
      had been punched through his stomach, as if it had been nothing more
      than a paper drum. A queasy energy radiated out through his flesh.

      Rogue visibly gulped back her fear, her eyes moving in their
      sockets. "I can see and…and *feel*…what it… Oh God …!"

      Rogue's tiny frame shuddered, and Logan pulled her into him, trying
      desperately to impart warmth and comfort with his large body. "Fuck,
      I'm sorry, baby," he whispered into her hair. She was suffering
      because of him, and he felt like the biggest shit in the world for
      causing her this pain. But at the same time, she had knowledge he
      desperately needed to know. When her shaking quelled, Logan quietly
      pressed, "Who did it, Marie?"

      She frowned. "The Canadian government. It was called something like
      Project X…look, I don't know all the details…but there's something
      special about the metal. It was when you were a soldier," Rogue
      drawled with an animated flare of weepy frustration. She paused
      momentarily and breathed deeply until the hitching sobs in her
      diaphragm calmed. "But, I…I can point out on a map where they did
      the experimentation. It was some kind of make-shift laboratory they
      set up."

      "You serious?" Logan asked. The cold that had been slithering out to
      his extremities halted and retreated in a fast one-eighty, driven
      back by the coiling heat of irrational fury.

      Rogue looked back up at him, her face red and soggy. She compressed
      her lips together into a thin line and nodded. "Yes."

      Logan squeezed his eyes closed and breathed in; the cool inhalation
      rippled out through his chest. He opened his eyes to look at
      Rogue. "You're right. I need to go."

      Rogue nodded, her gaze once more fixated on the tensile black coils
      matting Logan's chest. "I know. I knew you would."

      "Come with me."

      She again looked up at him and chewed her lower lip. A slow tear
      trailed silver moonlight down her already wet cheek. "I can't," she
      whispered dreadfully. "I'm…I'm so tired. Tired of running, tired of
      being scared… I can't do it anymore. I just can't."

      "I'll protect you. I'll take care of you," Logan argued.

      "I know you would." Rogue smiled and touched his face. "But you
      mentioned a place…"

      Logan's brow unfurrowed. "Xavier's Institute. The school for
      mutants."

      Rogue nodded silently.

      Neither spoke for a long time. Logan's thumb circled a soothing
      trace on Rogue's damp cheek. She closed her eyes and burrowed her
      nose into his chest. Finally, Logan's deep voice scratched through
      the quiet. "I'll take you to Charles in the morning," he stated
      flatly.


      -------------------------2 MONTHS LATER-------------------------

      "Logan! Welcome back," Professor X said with a smile, exiting the
      mansion.

      "Charles," Logan acknowledged with a curt nod.

      "This is sooner than expected," the professor commented. "Did you
      find any useful information on your expedition?"

      "Yeah. Some stuff. The facility was abandoned, but I got a few
      leads," Logan replied enigmatically, looking to the horizon and
      dragging his hand back through his hair. "How is she?"

      "Rogue? Fine. She's doing quite well in her training, in fact."

      Logan looked at Charles and raised an eyebrow. "What kind of
      progress she making?"

      The professor smiled. "To be honest, her development has been quite
      remarkable. I helped her separate what in her brain is the actual on-
      off switch for her mutation from the fear that's triggering it. When
      she's calm, she can activate her abilities without being afraid.
      Unfortunately, her control when she's scared is still a little
      erratic, but at least now she feels comfortable about not
      accidentally hurting people."

      Logan felt a strange glow of warmth and nodded. "Where is she?"

      "I believe she's in the dining room at the moment," the professor
      answered.

      Logan grunted his farewell and made his way inside. When he got to
      the dining room, he immediately spotted Rogue. She was laughing,
      sitting across a small table from that asshole Scott Summers. Unlike
      all the time she'd been with Logan, Rogue's arms were bare, her hands
      completely free of gloves. Apparently still not quite comfortable
      with this state of undress, Rogue flinched slightly if her fingers
      accidentally brushed Scott's arm as they spoke. He was leaning into
      her with a look of absorbed interest. Dickhead, Logan thought.

      Even from the doorway, Logan could see Rogue's pale skin had a tinge
      of healthy pinkness in her cheeks and her eyes twinkled mercilessly.
      Her features appeared more rounded and less gaunt. She looked…
      happy. Vibrantly alive.

      It suddenly slammed into Logan that Rogue really had no need for him;
      the realization sank a heavy stone in his stomach. She could be with
      anyone now, even that pretty-boy fucknut Scott. Not just a guy who
      could smell her fear building or recuperate easily from one of her
      draining sessions, but *any* guy. A twinge of jealousy for Summers
      and his easy humor with Rogue slinked through Logan's veins. He
      clenched his back teeth and slowly ground them together.

      It was probably for the best, anyway. Why would Rogue want a guy who
      couldn't stay put in one place for too long? Logan's wanderlust,
      combined with his need to discover the truth about his past, had him
      constantly on the road. And despite the fact that Rogue had been
      bouncing from town to town for years now, it was clear she'd never
      have deliberately chosen that lifestyle for herself if necessity
      hadn't insisted on it. She'd been dying to plant her feet, and
      nesting at Xavier's seemed to agree with her. She looked genuinely
      content.

      Logan dropped his eyes. His jaw ticked.

      "Logan!? OMIGODLOGAN!"

      Logan looked back up to find Rogue sprinting towards him, a mega-watt
      smile plastered across her face. "Logan!" She leapt from the ground
      a good distance from him and vaulted straight into his arms. He
      managed to catch the flying mass, but her momentum – combined with
      his lack of readiness – had him stumbling backwards out of the dining
      room's doorframe.

      "Oh God, Logan! I missed you so much!" Rogue managed to squeal the
      words out while she crushed him in an impressive hug.

      Heat bathed Logan, and it took him a moment to realize that he was
      grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, sweetheart. Christ, you feel
      good." His eyelids dropped closed and he sank into her embrace. All
      the scents that had danced solely in his mind's eye for the past two
      months rolled over him, and he ingested them in gulpfuls of air.

      Rogue eventually jumped down off Logan, dismounting him with almost
      as much enthusiasm as she'd used to launch herself into his arms.
      Her smile never faltered and she bounced lightly on her toes. "How
      was it? Did you find what you were looking for? Are you back for
      good now?"

      "I have a lot I have to follow up on."

      Rogue managed to keep the corners of her mouth lifted, but her eyes
      betrayed her disappointment at the news. A bright, enthusiastic
      light winked out. Logan took a deep breath and continued, "Look, I…
      I don't expect you to wait around for me to just drop in. I hear
      you're doing really well. You could be with anyone you want now."

      She sank her teeth into her full lower lip; her eyes were huge. "I
      want to be with you."

      Just like that. Emotion twisted sharply within Logan's chest.
      Before he could think better of his actions, his mouth landed on
      Rogue's, his inertia pushing her backwards until he'd trapped her
      against the wall. Logan pinned her like a butterfly to corkboard and
      feasted hungrily on her soft, pink tongue. He grabbed beneath her
      thigh and pulled one leg up around him, rolling his lower body into
      hers. Christ, he needed her. She felt so soft and perfect – just
      the way he remembered – and thoughts of penetrating her sleek
      tightness made hot saliva pool in his mouth and his blood migrate
      south.

      "Logan?" Rogue whispered against his lips.

      "Mmmm?"

      She pressed against his chest to look into his eyes. "Just promise
      me you'll always come back," she requested a bit breathily across her
      passion-swollen lips. "Even if it's only for a short while."

      Something tight unclenched deep inside him. Rogue: the only woman to
      match his intensity. The only woman to trust him implicitly. The
      only woman to cause his heart to physically ache when they were
      apart. "Fuck, Marie, I can't seem to stay away." His arms slipped
      tightly around her waist.

      "Good," she drawled lazily. "Then let's go up to my room."

      "Can I finally get that big, sloppy blowjob I've been wanting out of
      you?" Logan slid out through a toothy grin.

      Rogue rolled her eyes back into her skull but couldn't repress her
      smile. "God, Logan, you're positively incorrigible."

      "That's not a yes," he reprimanded.

      She smirked. "You'll notice it's not exactly a no either."

      Logan pulled back in surprised mirth, and Rogue raised a seductive
      eyebrow in challenge. Shock transformed into hunger as once more
      Logan's tongue plunged past her lips and began greedily exploring her
      hot, wet mouth. Shit, it felt good to be home.
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.