The X-Men Fic: "The Curse in the Cure" 1/1
Title: The Curse in the Cure
Fandom: MCU - X-Men
Characters/Pairings: Logan/Rogue
Author: evil_little_dog
Words: 860
Rating: Teenish?
Summary: Rogue has plans, and Logan should go along with them.
Warnings: Post X-Men III.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Prompt: from analise010, X-Men (movies), Logan/Rogue, Rogue can touch. 2013 comment fic
X X X
Logan could smell her over the scents of lubricants the vehicles needed. The garage never smelled as nice as when Rogue showed up in it. It'd been a few days since he'd seen her last - her pissed off at something and leaving the mansion behind. He'd been caught up in something himself, unable to go after her. Besides, he'd learned throughout his years, sometimes, a woman needed some time to herself.
"Logan."
He shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth, looking up at her over the seat of the motorcycle. "Rogue."
She tilted her chin up. A light breeze caressed her, catching hold of the ends of her silk scarf and billowing it out. Her hair swayed, too. She was stiffer, and Logan thought of how a horse looked, just before it bolted, all wild eyes and tension. "I came to show you something."
"What's that?" He glanced back down at the motorcycle engine, giving her a second before he turned his attention back to her and nearly spat out his cigar. "Whoa, now!"
Rogue had unzipped her jacket, showing a helluva lot more flesh underneath than he expected, as well as a pretty green bra. The cool from the breeze sharpened her nipples into points, and the sight made Logan's mouth dry. She leaned her hands on the seat of the bike, her eyebrows arching up, her hair falling down to curtain off the rest of the garage. "I need you to touch me," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Gaping up at her, Logan blinked a few times. He could smell something else now, arousal, hers, and it was sending signals to that part of the body no man could really say he controlled. "Rogue." He pulled the mask he normally wore back on. "Doncha got a boyfriend for that?"
"I don't. He broke up with me."
Damn, Popsicle had the fucking worst timing. "So you're gonna get back at him by putting me in a coma?" Logan chewed the end of his cigar, thinking of lighting it. The stink usually made women back off.
Rogue smiled, a smile that let Logan know she knew exactly how her scent was affecting him, and she was more than okay with it. Straightening up, she wriggled her shoulders, making her boobs bounce. Fuck, his eyes went right to them, too, but then Logan nearly fell back on his ass when Rogue pulled off her gloves. "I'm not getting back at Bobby," she said, "he's happy with what he has. And we didn't make each other happy..."
"What's that got to do with me?" He couldn't help but stare as one of the gloves fluttered down, landing on the seat of the motorcycle.
"I was hoping," her Southern accent colored her words, and maybe even the way she swayed her hips, "you might wanna make me happy."
"You're a kid," he said, not sure whether he was reminding himself or her.
"I'm a woman grown, and I don't care if you're old enough to be my daddy." Her eyes lit up, mischievous. "Do you wanna be my daddy?"
The way she sugar-coated that question forced Logan to bite back a groan. "We're friends," he said, trying to control himself when all his senses were attuned to just how much she wanted this.
Rogue argued, "And friendships become something more."
"Rogue. Marie." Logan didn't miss how her hands on her hips made her boobs thrust out. "What's brought all this on? Without any of the..." He waved a hand, not even sure what he'd been trying to say. Hoping she'd figure it out.
Her lips pursed in something like a pout, but there was still too much deviltry in her expression. "I went and took the Cure."
"You..." His brain short-circuited at the ideas flashing through it. "You can touch people."
"I can. And I can be touched, too." Rogue sashayed around the bike and squatted next to him, her nose a scant breath away from his. "And I wanna be touched by you."
So close, he could smell everything rolling off her, her nerves, and her arousal, and the shampoo she used this morning. A part of him was pretty sure he was going to hell for this, another part said he'd been in hell plenty of times in the past, what was one more time? "And then what? Is this just a romp in the hay, or?"
"I guess that depends on how good you are." With a grin that defined the word 'wicked', Rogue zipped her jacket back up as she stood. She grabbed her gloves and pulled them on. "I'll be waiting...got my car ready to go if you're up for a little trip into town to see my new apartment." Her butt twitched and rolled as she walked away.
Logan realized he'd bit his cigar in half. Tossing it aside, he locked up his tool kit, shoving the box hard enough to send it over to the wall and out of the way. Yeah, he was going to hell for this, but it sure looked like it'd be a great trip.
X X X
Fandom: MCU - X-Men
Characters/Pairings: Logan/Rogue
Author: evil_little_dog
Words: 860
Rating: Teenish?
Summary: Rogue has plans, and Logan should go along with them.
Warnings: Post X-Men III.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Prompt: from analise010, X-Men (movies), Logan/Rogue, Rogue can touch. 2013 comment fic
X X X
Logan could smell her over the scents of lubricants the vehicles needed. The garage never smelled as nice as when Rogue showed up in it. It'd been a few days since he'd seen her last - her pissed off at something and leaving the mansion behind. He'd been caught up in something himself, unable to go after her. Besides, he'd learned throughout his years, sometimes, a woman needed some time to herself.
"Logan."
He shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth, looking up at her over the seat of the motorcycle. "Rogue."
She tilted her chin up. A light breeze caressed her, catching hold of the ends of her silk scarf and billowing it out. Her hair swayed, too. She was stiffer, and Logan thought of how a horse looked, just before it bolted, all wild eyes and tension. "I came to show you something."
"What's that?" He glanced back down at the motorcycle engine, giving her a second before he turned his attention back to her and nearly spat out his cigar. "Whoa, now!"
Rogue had unzipped her jacket, showing a helluva lot more flesh underneath than he expected, as well as a pretty green bra. The cool from the breeze sharpened her nipples into points, and the sight made Logan's mouth dry. She leaned her hands on the seat of the bike, her eyebrows arching up, her hair falling down to curtain off the rest of the garage. "I need you to touch me," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Gaping up at her, Logan blinked a few times. He could smell something else now, arousal, hers, and it was sending signals to that part of the body no man could really say he controlled. "Rogue." He pulled the mask he normally wore back on. "Doncha got a boyfriend for that?"
"I don't. He broke up with me."
Damn, Popsicle had the fucking worst timing. "So you're gonna get back at him by putting me in a coma?" Logan chewed the end of his cigar, thinking of lighting it. The stink usually made women back off.
Rogue smiled, a smile that let Logan know she knew exactly how her scent was affecting him, and she was more than okay with it. Straightening up, she wriggled her shoulders, making her boobs bounce. Fuck, his eyes went right to them, too, but then Logan nearly fell back on his ass when Rogue pulled off her gloves. "I'm not getting back at Bobby," she said, "he's happy with what he has. And we didn't make each other happy..."
"What's that got to do with me?" He couldn't help but stare as one of the gloves fluttered down, landing on the seat of the motorcycle.
"I was hoping," her Southern accent colored her words, and maybe even the way she swayed her hips, "you might wanna make me happy."
"You're a kid," he said, not sure whether he was reminding himself or her.
"I'm a woman grown, and I don't care if you're old enough to be my daddy." Her eyes lit up, mischievous. "Do you wanna be my daddy?"
The way she sugar-coated that question forced Logan to bite back a groan. "We're friends," he said, trying to control himself when all his senses were attuned to just how much she wanted this.
Rogue argued, "And friendships become something more."
"Rogue. Marie." Logan didn't miss how her hands on her hips made her boobs thrust out. "What's brought all this on? Without any of the..." He waved a hand, not even sure what he'd been trying to say. Hoping she'd figure it out.
Her lips pursed in something like a pout, but there was still too much deviltry in her expression. "I went and took the Cure."
"You..." His brain short-circuited at the ideas flashing through it. "You can touch people."
"I can. And I can be touched, too." Rogue sashayed around the bike and squatted next to him, her nose a scant breath away from his. "And I wanna be touched by you."
So close, he could smell everything rolling off her, her nerves, and her arousal, and the shampoo she used this morning. A part of him was pretty sure he was going to hell for this, another part said he'd been in hell plenty of times in the past, what was one more time? "And then what? Is this just a romp in the hay, or?"
"I guess that depends on how good you are." With a grin that defined the word 'wicked', Rogue zipped her jacket back up as she stood. She grabbed her gloves and pulled them on. "I'll be waiting...got my car ready to go if you're up for a little trip into town to see my new apartment." Her butt twitched and rolled as she walked away.
Logan realized he'd bit his cigar in half. Tossing it aside, he locked up his tool kit, shoving the box hard enough to send it over to the wall and out of the way. Yeah, he was going to hell for this, but it sure looked like it'd be a great trip.
X X X