Author: Sophie and Sionnain
Fandom: XMen, Movie!Verse. Sometime after X2.
Pairing: Marie/Erik, though Logan/Marie and Erik/Charles are implied.
Summary: Marie is tired of having Erik in her mind, and she decides to do a little exorcism.
Warnings: Het sodomy, angst.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. There were just too many people in her head, and for the most part, Rogue knew who they were. Logan, Bobby, even a touch of St. John. The adolescent boys and the surly Logan she could deal with. It was the other one—the quieter, colder voice—that she couldn’t understand anymore.
The one that made her call the Professor “Charles” in a way that made them both uncomfortable, made her laugh when she shouldn’t, made her want things that were…depraved, wrong. She couldn’t confess them to the Professor, so she’d have to do something about it herself. Which meant, of course, she’d have to leave—and go to him.
Mystique sauntered into the room. "Erik, that girl is here. You know." She switched her appearance quickly to be Rogue's.
"Oh?" Erik leaned back in his cold, metal throne. "How did she find us?"
"I don't know. Shall I kill her?"
"No, I don't think so...not now, anyway. Bring her here." Erik put his feet up and chuckled. "Yes, bring her here." Mystique nodded and left the room quickly.
Rogue wrapped her arms around herself and waiting in the foyer—er, the smaller metal room, that she was calling a foyer to inject some sense of normalcy into this situation. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had.
Mystique returned. "Go in. He's expecting you." She smiled unpleasantly.
“Ah, thanks.” Rogue walked through the door, wondering if living in a metal fortress made these people so crazy. Maybe they just needed some windows. She faced Magneto with a brave look, trying to forget that she despised him. “H-hello.”
Magneto didn't answer, just stared at her, waiting for her to speak further.
Friendly. “Um, I know you probably didn’t exactly expect to see me, and I’m not—here to like, try and kill you or anything,” she said quickly, feeling ridiculous.
He began laughing, a low, rumbling laugh that grew. He waved a hand, and a metal chair shot across the room and hit her in the back of the knees, making her collapse into it. "How nice. Do sit down."
Rogue made an aborted sound of surprise as the chair her and took a moment to compose herself. “Look, it’s just that…I’m kinda tired of you,” she said bluntly. “You just…don’t go away.” She scowled at him.
He lifted his eyebrows. "As far as I know, I have..."
“Well, you’re wrong.” She leaned forward in the chair and tapped her temple with one gloved finger. “You’re in here, and you won’t go away. Wasn’t like I asked to have evil madmen stuck in my head, but I do, and it’s your fault.” With that, she leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, glaring at him.
He looked interested at that. "So, my thoughts and feelings..."
“Yup. All of ‘em. And you can imagine, Magneto, that ain’t so fun for me,” she drawled, petulant. “I can’t—I tried to ask the Professor to fix this, but you’re sort of…not cooperating. In my head,” she explained. The last thing she wanted to do was entice him to try and kill her. Again.
"Ah, well, my apologies." An iron spear flew off the wall and poised, pointed at her heart. "Shall I correct the problem for you?"
“You got a weird idea of decorating,” Rogue murmured, wide-eyed, staring at the weapon. “I’d kinda prefer to leave alive, thanks. I—I’m happy where I am, but I—if I could just make you go away somewhere, that’d be nice.” She smiled briefly “Though you’ve helped me out in physics, so thanks for that.”
He smirked. "And how do you propose to 'make me go away'?"
She looked down at the spear, heart racing. “Well, I figured it goes something like this. I can control Logan, because I know him. Bobby, the same. St. John…well, Pyro ain’t all that difficult to figure out and he just makes me think about women a bit too often.” She blushed at that. “It’s just…I don’t know you. And so, I can’t…I can’t tell when you’re going to show up.”
"I see..." He laughed, delighted. "You don't know anymore what is me and what is you, do you?"
Rogue made an inarticulate sound of rage and batted at the spear. “No, damn it, I don’t. Think you could maybe put this back on the wall?” She resisted the urge to try and grasp it and hurl it at him.
He pressed it closer against her skin. "Charles hasn't done a very good job of teaching you manners, has he? Or is that me again?"
“Think that was me,” Rogue muttered. She went absolutely still, then said in a quiet voice, “Don’t you think you owe me? You said you were sorry, don’t you remember, that you had to kill me? Well, I didn’t die, and here’s your chance to make it up to me.” That made her wince. “That maybe was you right there. I think you’re sorta manipulative like that.” Her eyes were still on the spear.
He laughed again. "Oh, my dear, I believe that was you. Why would I imagine that I owed you something for not killing you?"
“I—” She was too frightened to answer him—that damned spear was still poking her skin, and she’d made a horrible mistake and he was going to kill her, she just knew it. “Fine. Kill me then. At least it’ll be over.” She slumped back in the chair, miserable.
He pressed the spear inexorably against her, harder and harder, then, suddenly, let it drop to the floor. "You won't like knowing what parts are me," he observed.
She stared up at him. “No,” she agreed huskily. “I probably won’t. But then it’ll be over. Maybe you could think of it as revenge for me not dyin’ and doing what you wanted.” Her smile was suddenly sly.
"Perhaps." He rose, moving towards her. "Tell me, Marie, do you touch yourself in the night?"
She gritted her teeth, not liking either his question or his use of her first name. How’d he know that, anyway? “That wouldn’t be your fault,” she snapped, thinking of Logan and hiding her blush by dropping her head and letting her hair cover her face.
"No? What about when you think of Charles? When you're lost in a happy dream of your adamantium knight, and then you hear his voice, silky smooth, and it makes you weep.." He leaned down, resting one hand on either arm of the chair.
She looked up at that, eyes caught in his cold ones, and nodded. “Guess that’s your fault, then.” She shook her head. “I—I don’t want that, you see? I can’t…” she trailed off.
"Other things," he continued smoothly. "You pinch your nipples harder than you like sometimes, don't you?" He thought for a moment, then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was smiling. "Like this..." He let his fingers touch her exposed collarbone, then drifted down to pinch her nipple, brutally hard, between thumb and forefinger.
Rogue reached a hand out and clasped it around his wrist. She was shaking and the horrible, immediate flash of desire was confusing. She hated him! She wanted Logan to do that, not him…. “Didn’t take you for the rough type,” she snapped, all fierce, false bravado.
He laughed. "Did you think it was the wolverine who wanted to do that to you, Marie? The wolverine who made you hunt around for something larger, to stretch yourself out..."
“I certainly didn’t think it was you,” she answered him, rather brattily. This was not exactly how she had imagined this little meeting would go.
"You wanted it to be him..." He twisted her nipple painfully, watching her closely.
“Yes,” she moaned, biting her lip, squirming a bit in the chair. Her eyes closed tightly, as if she were afraid to look at him. Which was probably more than just a little likely.
"It wasn't, though. It was me inside you, making you take yourself in such humiliating ways..." He released her nipple and pulled her out of the chair, abruptly, whirling her so that she faced his shining steel desk, then pushing her down to bend over it. "Did you ever bend yourself over like this, little Marie, and touch your pretty cunt until it was sore, and you cried?"
Oh, goddamn him for this… “Stop,” she said softly, reaching around to find her glove, determined to pull it off and escape him. She should never have come here, should have known better…should not be the slightest bit aroused at this…
"It won't work, Marie," he said smugly, then ripped at her dress and laid his bare palm against her skin. "You see, I've done some thinking myself."
Rogue panicked at that, twisting her body, trying to get away from him. He was stronger than she suspected. “How…?” She choked on rage and fear and something else she refused to give name to. This wasn’t fair, it wasn’t…if anyone should be able to touch her, why was it him?
"Do you really think you've seen the full extent of my powers?" he laughed. He continued to tear her dress until she was only covered by her panties, then yanked those down as well. "Now, do tell me what else I made you do."
“You made me want—” she stared at her reflection in his gleaming metal desk and hated the look she saw on her face. “Don’t make me say it. You know.”
He laughed. "But I want to hear you say it, Marie. Perhaps if you say it, I won't feel the need to show you..."
Rogue twisted her head to look at him, and his smug, smiling face enraged her. “I think you know, Erik,” she hissed. “Same thing you want from Charles.”
He was unfazed. "That's right. The same thing you now want from me." Reaching between her legs, he shoved two fingers inside her brutally.
She cried out, both in pain and humiliation—he was bound to notice she was wet, of course—and then growled in frustration and bucked her hips. “I didn’t think it was you I wanted it from,” she confessed.
"The things we learn," he said, amused, fucking her hard with his fingers. "You want it now..." He reached with his other hand for her nipples, pinching and twisting them painfully once more.
As if that made it better. “Tell me how you can do this,” she gasped, forcing herself not to push back against his cruel, painful fingers.
He laughed. "I'm in your mind, why don't you know?" He drew his slick fingers from her, then began pushing one slowly into her ass.
“Don’t…know,” she gasped, throwing her head back. This was so, so wrong, and he was right, damn him, because it was exactly what she had wanted. Maybe if she gave in, let him do this, then it would be over and he’d be gone.
"But you know that this is what you want, don't you? Want to feel my cock here..." He began sliding a second finger inside her, stretching her out.
Rogue braced herself against the desk and then turned to look at him again, studying his face, shivering a bit in pain and pleasure. She was drowning in shame, but that was part of why she liked it. “You have a hell of scary mind,” she informed him, pushing her hips back for him, giving in.
He smiled. "As do you, my dear." He withdrew his fingers then unbuttoned his trousers and, abruptly, pushed his cock into her cunt.
“Got too many sociopaths and crazy men in there,” she said, though who the hell knew, anymore, if that was true. This was not exactly how she’d intended to exorcise Magneto from her mind, but if it worked…
He pulled out of her as quickly as he'd gone in. "Yet you still long for goodness...his touch, his forgiveness..." He drove himself into her ass, painfully hard.
Rogue screamed at the pain, the shameful pleasure of it, and at the truth to his words. “Yes,” she moaned, head falling down, tears escaping from beneath her closed eyes. “If he humiliates me enough, makes me pay for what I’ve done, he’ll love me again.” The words were whispered softly, torn from somewhere dark in the back of her mind.
He gritted his teeth at hearing that, fucking her hard. "But he never does...never even really looks at you..."
Something that wasn’t Logan, wasn’t the rest of them, was making her talk in fast, almost garbled sentences. “No, he doesn’t, because it hurts, and I can’t stand it so I don’t want to be in the same room with him, but I do it, and he won’t just hurt me and get it over with, and if he would I’d—“ she scratched at the desk with her short nails, ineffectually. “I’d give in.”
"Of course you would...you could never resist him." He reached down, twisting her clit painfully hard. "And you weep at night for him..."
She cried out again, loudly. “I don’t deserve him, not any more, not after what I’ve done. Not enough pain in the world to make it go away…” She clenched her muscles around him, craving what he was doing. “God, please hurt me. Choking on guilt…”
"Take it," he said, harshly, fucking her with brutal strength, still twisting her clit. "Show how you need it..."
His mind was in hers and his body was, too, and she forgot for a moment who she was. She came hard with a loud, keening cry, and it wasn’t Logan’s name she cried out, nor was it Erik’s.
"Charles," he repeated after her, raggedly. "Charles..." Groaning, he spilled himself inside her.
Rogue fell against the desk, limp and quiet. She made a soft, sobbing sound as she came back to herself. The metal desk was cold against her skin and she was very sore, but her mind felt…quiet.
He pulled out of her roughly, then fixed his trousers. "Mystique will give you something to wear," he said, looking down at her for a moment, then turned on his heel and left the room.
Rogue stared after him, a small smile on her face. Some things made a lot more sense, now. She took the clothes from Mystique without a word and then returned to the Institute.
She went to find the Professor in his study, and promptly fell on her knees before him, head in his lap. “He still loves you,” she said softly, sadly.
Charles played with her hair, his fingers moving through the white streak. “I know he does,” he said quietly. “Surely you know, Rogue, that if he were to come to me, I could not give him what he wants to make himself feel better about what he’s chosen to do.”
Rogue nodded. “I know. Still…” she looked up at him, and finally gave in to the urge and ran her gloved fingers down his face. Charles looked at her for a moment with sad eyes before capturing her hand with his. They stared at each other for a moment, and Rogue felt herself slip away again.
“Go to him, Rogue,” he said at last, pulling her back to herself, and she nodded and rose to leave him.
“I think he’ll always be in there somewhere, Professor, but I have him under control,” she said, then went to Logan’s room, still a bit sad. She knocked on the door and waited, heart racing.
"Hey, kid," Logan said, leaning against the doorway. "Where you been?"
“I went to visit Magneto,” she said honestly. “I wanted him out of my head.” She gave him a steady look. “I gotta tell you something, Logan.”
He frowned at that. "Before or after I beat you black and blue?"
She smiled. “I think maybe before, but I’ll tell you after, too. I know you might still—still love Jean,” she said, trying not to wince at the words, “But I just saw what happens when people aren’t honest and don’t tell the truth.” She shook her head, realizing she sounded crazy. “I’m—Logan, I—“ she stared up at him, eyes searching his, willing him to understand.
He gave a long sigh at that look, then relaxed. "Hell, kid. I said I'd always take care of you." He pulled her towards him gently.
Gratefully, she went into his arms, and put Erik away where he belonged. Somewhere dark and quiet. Not gonna make a mess of things like you did, she thought, hiding her face in Logan’s chest. “Love you,” she whispered, and in saying it, somehow she felt like she had won.