AN: *laughs nervously* so... I bet you were expecting the eagerly awaited 3rd story in my series...
Yeah... About that...
I may or may not have left school in a bit of a rush and may or may not misplaced the hand written first draft of the first chapter... And then I was ill for ages and never got round to looking for it or finding it etc...
So here is a replacement. This whole story came to me because of this one sentance "Last night I dreamt of the perfect man. This morning I discovered he was real" This was in a dream I had (ha I had a dream and thought it would make a good story lol) and then BAM my muse went into overdrive.
Until I get No.3 out (yeah still not releasing the title as I want it to be a surprise) I hope this will do.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline. Marvel owns the characters and any recognisable quotes belong to the respective authors.
Song: Gap Yah - Orlando ft The Banter
Walking out of a dingy bar, Rogue sighed. Another night of drowning her sorrows hadn't helped her general feeling of uselessness. Her powers seemed like they were going to be her curse forever.
She avoided a puddle carefully, the broken fluorescent light flickering dimly. Her night couldn't get any worse.
"Oi! You! Girly!"
It just did.
She rolled her eyes and turned to see three men coming out of the bar behind her.
"What d'ya want?" she asked, glaring for all she was worth.
The biggest, and ugliest, swaggered up to her. "You ignored me in the bar. I don't take kindly to that. You should learn your place." He paused for effect. "On your back with your legs spread."
"Ya shouldn't say that sort of stuff. If you ever talk to me like that again I will kick you in the nuts so hard that you'll be choking on your testicles. Now back off!"
She turned and tried to walk away but was yanked back by a large, meaty fist that closed around her wrist, just above her glove. Her powers kicked in quickly and soon the man was gasping for breath. She pried his hand off her wrist and he collapsed backward, weakened but conscious.
The other men looked at her like she was filth. "Mutie scum!" one said before spitting on the ground. The other, meanwhile, scrambled around on the ground briefly before coming up with a large piece of wood.
Oh shit.
Squaring up to the men she tried to think of everything Logan had taught her about fighting. Funnily enough he hadn't covered what to do if they were armed with large pieces of wood.
He raised it, as if he was going to hit her with it and she prepared to dodge when a liquid voice came from the shadows.
"Y' don' wanna be doin' dat, homme."
Everyone, including Rogue, turned to stare at the dark blob that could have passed for the man with the rather strange accent. A slight glow around mouth height could indicate a cigarette. Not that this gave away much about him. Except that he was at risk of lung cancer and a bunch of other fun diseases.
The one with the piece of wood, which he obviously thought made him badass, brandished it and took a threatening step forward. "Stay out of this! It's nothin' to do with you."
The man might have shrugged. "Let de lil lady go an' I'll be on m' way."
The men exchanged glances and sneered. This guy was a regular comedian if he thought they were going to get rid of their piece of fun for the evening. "Not a chance."
The piece of wood wielding one stepped forward. "I'm going to kill you...want you to know it's nothing personal"
"Dat's good to hear... In which case I'm going to knock you down and hit you with y'r own piece of wood, and I want you to know, it's nothing personal either."
The cigarette was suddenly extinguished and there were a few seconds of silence and stillness before several pink glowing blurs flew at the men. Rogue ducked down and went into the foetal position.
A few heavy thuds later and she dared to look up. In the bit of flickering light that was given off by the rather pathetic light a few metres away she saw the men lying on the ground around her. She glanced up, for the first time, saw the man clearly.
He had dark, auburn hair that hung haphazardly in his face. He was not as stocky and obviously muscled like the guys back at the institute. More lithe. The litheness of a dancer, a gymnast or possibly a mountain lion. He wore an old, worn out brown trench coat, unbuttoned with a dark shirt and pants.
But none of those were his defining feature. That honour belonged to his eyes. Red irises on black sclera. Some would have called them demon eyes. But Rogue had a brother that was blue and could teleport who was also a monk and was good friends with a guy who had giant white wings growing out of his shoulder blades. In other words she had seen stranger stuff.
But even under the tacky, cheap fluorescent light he looked a lot more dangerous than the three stooges he'd just taken out without apparent effort.
He didn't even look mildly out of breath as he walked over to her.
It was because of the fear that she decided to throw herself at him when he came over and asked "Chère? Are y' oka-oomph" but was cut off by Rogue impacting on his chest. She quickly straddled him, immobilising his arms, before pulling off a glove.
"You should know that going after a mutant is a bad idea." She whispered as she reached for his face.
Remy had seen what she had done to the other guy and so braced himself for what he was sure would be excruciating pain.
But nothing happened.
All he could feel was the softness of her fingertips and the rest of her body pressing into his. She gasped and he cracked an eye.
She wasn't absorbing him.
She wasn't absorbing him.
She wasn't absorbing him!
On an impulse she leant down and kissed him.
This was a surprise for Remy. But he quickly gathered that, with him being so devilishly handsome, she had decided that kissing him was better than sucking the life out of him.
So he kissed her back.
And when he kisses he doesn't just sit, or lay, there or dominate too much. His kissing was more like making love to a woman's mouth. Giving her a taste of what else he could do.
This was going to be an interesting night.
They stumbled through the door, hands everywhere, lips clumsy. Rogue managed to kick the door shut before yanking him through to the bedroom. Rogue had always liked to believe that if the opportunity to physically touch another human being had ever arisen, she wouldn't get carried away. This thought dimly ran through her mind as she yanked his shirt over his head and ran her hands over his chiselled chest.
He pulled back for a second to survey his surroundings but in one fluid movement, he had her straddling his waist, her ankles crossed at the small of his back and her arms around his neck. He held her thighs, clutching her tightly but also carefully. She was moaning against his mouth, tightening her legs about him and pushing insistently into his hips. The ready warmth of her lace-clad core pressing against him so urgently was eating away at the last of his restraint.
So much for taking his time.
He leaned forward, finally breaking their kiss and laying her down in the white mass of the bedspread. His head sank with her prone figure, coming to rest in the crook of her neck.
Pressing a gentle kiss there he ran his hands up her side, bringing her shirt with it.
Now Rogue had always thought that her first time was going to be gentle and careful, slow and steady, like an ember burning away.
But as we all know, reality rarely listens to our plans.
This was more like forest fire - fast, out of control but also beautiful and exciting edging on scary.
He was going a little too fast for her but there was no way in hell she was going to stop him.
But then, magically, he slowed.
His kisses no longer had that frantic edge, his touch became more purposeful, less like he was just trying to cover ground.
He settled down and began to learn her topography. Every dip, ever scar, every little sensitive spot that she had, he found.
And exploited.
Soon she was like a wire, tightened to a fever pitch. And this made her bold.
She reached for the button on his jeans, quickly undoing them and sliding down the zipper.
The man took care of the rest – sliding them and his boxer briefs off. Glancing at up her, as if asking for permission he gently moved his hand to rest on the waistband of her jeans. All he did was gently run his hand along the piece of skin just above her jeans.
She nodded slightly and he dipped his head, kissing her navel as he gently popped the button. Easing them off her, bringing her, actually rather nice underwear down with them. She thanked god she'd done laundry a few days ago. Otherwise he might have encountered something a bit different.
He kept on moving lower until he reached her core and started savouring her folds then sucking on her clit like he just couldn't get enough of her or her flavour. He withdrew enough to bring his hand up before inserting a finger slowly and drawing it out equally as torturously.
But Rogue had had enough of foreplay.
She gently grabbed his hair, tugging his face up. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but Rogue simply tugged on him again.
He obediently rose, moving up her body until he reached her face. Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, he reached between them so that he could place himself at my entrance.
This was it. Rogue suddenly realised what she was doing.
And, funnily enough, with her body crying out for release, didn't want to stop.
She had expected pain. From what she had heard from other girls, the first time hurt because of a hymen. But then she remembered her Sex Ed classes. Sometimes the hymen wasn't there. It might have been lost in a fall or just naturally broken.
But when he entered her, all she felt was bliss.
Stirring Rogue stretched cat like, luxuriating in the stiffness that hurt oh-so-good. Flashbacks of the night before passed lazily through her brain. It had been a long night. Who knew that one man could have that much stamina? She rolled over, a glowing smile on her face and found an empty bed. The sheets disturbed but cold and empty.
Her glow evaporated like ephemera. She slumped back on her pillows with a thump. 'Well that was a disappointment.' She thought sadly. 'But I guess I shouldn't expect any more from a one night stand' She didn't know how people could do it: sleep with someone and then the next day get up and leave as if nothing had happened. She could never handle it.
As much as Rogue didn't want to admit it, as much as she pretended to be the tough 'I-can-handle-anything' girl she always got too attached.
She sighed again. And then sat bolt upright in bed. There was no use moping.
She was going to carry on her life. But with more hope than before. He had shown her the beauty of touch, of intimacy. But he had also shown her that there were people out there immune to her gift. All she had to do was find another one. She smiled, glad that he had left her something.
Two weeks later and she was feeling strange. Moody, bloated, nauseas. Everything. It was like the period from hell.
And then it clicked.
Oh shit.
The test was supposed to be accurate but, just to make sure, she peered at the other four tests on the counter.
Positive. Pregnant. Two lines. Smiling baby face. All reported the same thing.
She was going to have a kid after a one night stand.
Oh dear God! This was awful! What's going to happen to her? And the baby? Raising it on her own! She's a pregnant teen. Sex before marriage. Ah shit... she was going to hell for this. Worse, she'll be a guest on Jerry Springer.
She slept intermittently that night. But when she woke up she could smell coffee and hear the TV in the other room.
Burglar?
Cautiously getting out of bed, trying not to make a sound, she rolled up her sleeves before picking up a dictionary.
She poked her head around the door and saw a man sitting on her sofa. All she could see was the back of his head but this was enough to tell that he was facing away from her so she quickly ducked back around the corner.
Plan of action:
1 throw book
2 jump on
3 absorb
Nothing that was going to give tacticians the world over a hard on but at least it was something.
She poked her head around the door again to check he was looking away before stepping into the door way. She took aim and fired.
It was a direct hit. The man leapt up swearing profusely, in what she assumed was French.
He spun around and Rogue gasped, her hands automatically dropping to her stomach.
It was the same man from that night.
AN2: I won't be updating this until I get a bit better/ inspiration strikes and refuses to let me go.
I hope everyone had a good New Year's Eve (I did, in case anyone was wondering - it was AMAZING!) and has an awesome year XD
