“MUTIE FIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!”
The crowd went berserk, surging against the cage and throwing beer bottles over the top to smash around Wolverine and Rogue as they stared each other down. The emcee was screaming that this was a first, a real live mutant battle in his cage! God, he was going to make a fortune in this newly realized niche market, the man crowed inwardly.
“Fight me. I can take it,” Rogue panted, grinning. Wolverine searched her eyes, but there was no gold in them, only warm brown. She was in control, her eyes clear, none of the wildness he’d seen in them during the hunt. She’d taken charge and was channeling the animal to her advantage.
“You’re the only one who can,” he agreed solemnly, then roared and dove at her, knocking her back into the cage. When she rebounded her landed a neat clock-cleaning roundhouse at her jaw and rocked her head back. Rogue staggered for a moment, shook her head to clear it, and danced forward to launch a kick at his gut. When he grabbed her leg to block she brought the other one around and whipped it into his head, the leather and steel buckles of her boots cushioning her shin against his adamantium clad skull.
It was Wolverine’s turn to stumble back, then he grinned and snaked tongue over teeth before he flung a flurry of kicks at her, spinning, crouching then rising, relying on long-buried memories of training in Japan at least two lifetimes ago. He got in a good jab to her ribs and another precisely aimed at her left thigh, which caused Rogue to crumple as her leg spasmed in a world class charley-horse. Wolverine was just about to thump her on the top of the head with a metal reinforced fist when she lashed out with her claws and he flung bank to avoid being filleted. Rogue took the advantage, ducking under his reach and flashing out with bony knives. Then she skipped away, laughing hard.
The catcalls were deafening as Wolverine’s shirt dropped away, neatly sliced to ribbons by Rogue’s dancing hands.
She leaned against the fencing and applauded lazily at the sight of Wolverine’s impressive chest then put two fingers between her lips and wolf whistled sharply, causing the crowd to laugh. Just for his own chuckles, the big man flexed his pecs a bit, noting with satisfaction a rising chorus of female screeches was drowning out the men yelling for blood, before cracking his neck again and stalking towards his opponent. Despite his speed, Rogue flipped over his head with a neat hand spring, landing lightly behind him and kicking the back of one knee and making him fall to a half kneeling position. One a flash she was on his back, legs wrapped around his torso and locked in front, one arm like steel around his neck, a trio of claws tickling his muttonchops. Her other hand grabbed a fistful of his hair.
For a second Wolverine thought Rogue was going to try and choke him out again, so he thrust one hand up to try and get it under the forearm across his throat. Nope, it was another trick.
“Yee haw! Ride ‘em cowgirl!”
Oh no she is not.
Oh yes, she was.
Rogue was shrieking and bouncing up and down on Wolverine’s back like he was a goddamn pony at the fair.
She wrenched back on his hair so he was looking straight up at her and she giggled and yelled “Giddy up!” and kneed him in a kidney.
This is not happening.
Yes, it was.
The women’s screams of delight from the crowd completely buried the men’s and Wolverine was utterly embarrassed to feel a blush creep over his face.
I don’t not fucking blush!
When Rogue let go of his hair to reach down and slap his ass, Wolverine reversed his assessment of his blushing capability since his face was hot as blazes right now.
I’ll give you a ride Wolverine promised grimly as he flung them backwards into the cage, pinning Rogue behind him.
She didn’t budge, if anything her legs clinched tighter around his waist as did the forearm across his throat, making it harder to breathe. Rogue was cackling with laughter despite his efforts to crush her into grind her through the fencing. Wolverine tried to throw a few elbows behind to catch her gut and get her off his goddamn back but no dice, she shifted from side to side to avoid the blows, still yanking his head backward and forward.
“Gallop horsey! Woo hoo! C’mon boy!” Then she whipped his ass a few more times and the whole bar was rolling in gales of laughter and taunts aimed at My Pretty Pony Wolverine.
Ok, this was officially the worst fight of his life, surpassing even the time he’d thrown up on his opponent b/c he was so drunk.
I still won that one.
No, strike that. This was the worst fight ever in the entire history of cage fighting. Not only had a chick, an American at that, held her own against him in the cage but she had managed to humiliate the shit out of him in front of a crowd of seasoned roughnecks in his own country.
He would never EVER live it down. Not if he lived a million years.
When or if he died someone would write on his headstone, “Here’s lies the Wolverine, a sorry sack of shit who was ridden like Seabiscuit by an American bird and shamed all of Canada. Wanker.”
Fuck, maybe I should take the Professor up on that threat to make me believe I am a 6 year old girl. At least a kid with braids wouldn’t die of acute embarrassment at playing horsey.
Wolverine groaned and slipped to the ground, raking Rogue down the cage with him, and collapsed on the floor, wishing more than anything this whole stupid fight was over.
Why had he ever gotten into a cage in the first place? Oh yeh, because he was great at kicking ass…until Rogue metaphorically neutered him in front of everyone and their redneck brother.
If there was any possible way to actually expire from complete shame he was praying it would reveal itself right this fucking minute so he could end his misery. C’mon, die already old man.
Rogue struggled up from behind Wolverine’s now prone form, and leaned over him. His eyes were closed so he didn’t have to see the hellish sight of her face over his looking like the cat that ate the fucking canary, like his tortured mind envisioned behind closed lids.
“Give up sugah? Or do I have to slap a saddle on ya and call ya Blossom?” an acidly sweet voice taunted from above him. He groaned and slid further down on the floor, definitely surrendering and internally begging she not stomp him while he was down or stick a bow in his hair. He felt her move away.
A small mercy. Infinitesimal really.
The emcee was screaming out Rogue’s name as the winner and the crowd surged against the cage in ecstasy. No hands pushed forward with shots now, as Rogue’s claws were still out and not even the drunks were hammered enough to get too close to her, but she didn’t care. In a fit of triumph she scaled to the top of the cage and straddled the fence, dangling a leg on either side and making muscles poses and blowing kisses to the enraptured masses below her. A waitress sailed past with a bottle of Maker’s Mark on a tray over her head and Rogue leaned over and swiped it, evoking more cheers from the crowd. Showing off, she sliced off the top of the bottle with a claw and began pouring it down her throat and all over her face and leather shirt.
Almost a hundred cell phones whipped out and digital photos were taken of the beautiful clawed wild woman straddling the cage and dumping liquor all over herself. Within a day this indelible image would be downloaded over a million times, introducing men all over the world to a new side of horny they hadn’t known since Princess Leia first appeared in a gold bikini.
Rogue was hamming it up on the top of the cage still, when a metal laced hand locked onto her ankle. Looking down she saw Wolverine had given up dying from terminal mortification and had grabbed onto her with a verrrrrrry scary look in his eyes. Before she could kick his hand away the other one snacked up and latched into the top of her boot and he wrenched her off the cage fence, and dragged her down to the cage floor roughly. Before she could even protest or attempt to slash at him with her claws Wolverine wrapped both of Rogue’s wrists in one massive hand, knelt, and hauled her down to him. She tried to kick, but he grabbed her hair viciously and forced her over.
“No! NOOOOOO!” Rogue screamed and struggled.
Too late, she was over one of Wolverine’s knees and he was dishing out the spanking that she had been overdue for…oh…about 20 years. All the leather in the world could not protect Rogue’s backside from the world class ass tanning Wolverine dished out. Adamantium enforced hands had that effect.
SMACK! “That is for getting me drunk.”
SMACK! “That is for using my own choke hold on me!”
SMACK! “For fucking throwing car parts in the woods!”
SMACK! “Stealing the jack! Do you know how much that fucking jeep weighs?”
SMACK! “Stealing my BIKE!” Wolverine roared.
SMACK! “KICKING ME IN THE NUTS!” SMACK! SMACK!
“What was that for?!” she screamed
SMACK! “Kicking me in the nuts is worth more than one kid.” He laughed, the horrible hand rose and fell again, and Rogue screamed and writhed in his lap.
SMACK! “Riding me like a goddamn hobby horse in front of everyone!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Rogue was crying good and proper now, claws withdrawn, and begging him to let her up Wolverine felt bad…almost.
Ok, not at all.
He lifted her up and roughly tossed his now thoroughly deflated opponent over his shoulder and stalked towards the cage gate. The emcee thrust a wad of large bills into Wolverine’s hand, gasping, “Here take it! $1660 for this fight only! She doesn’t get anything for the earlier ones b/c no one knew she was a mutant!” The man flinched as Wolverine looked him over and was terrified the brawler would knock his teeth out, but the big man just shrugged, which was impressive with the leather chick slung over his shoulder like a rucksack, and nodded.
“Gimme 2 bottles of the good shit and we’re out of here.” More than happy to get the two freaks out before the excitement of the evening wore off and the customers turned ugly, he handed Wolverine two large bottles of whiskey and wiped his brow as the couple strode away through the bar, the crowd parting before them like the Red Sea.
Just as he got to the door, Wolverine turned around to face the ocean of faces and eyes locked on him and Rogue and snarled. He smirked as the crowd drew back en masse as he unsheathed his own set of shiny metal claws. The collective gasp was sweet music, especially the murmurs when he reached up with his hand and rubbed it over Rogue’s leather clad but nevertheless extremely sore butt hanging over his shoulder.
He growled at breathless patrons. “She’s going home with the winner.”
Rogue burst out laughing from her upside down position and as Wolverine swung around to exit she leaned up, bracing against his back, and giggling hysterically she waved coyly at the stunned faces at the fight club before the door slammed shut on them all.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Let's get ready to rumble for real.
Chapter End Notes:
Hope you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it. More to come tomorrow.