Wolverine Saves the X-Men (aka Death of the Evil Fan Fiction Smut Monster)
by
Elektra
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this fan fiction belong to Marvel, Fox, etc.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so this is satire. The characterizations are not meant to be exact. And, yes I know, it is unlikely that our villain could actually assume the form of a blue vibrator. Just go with it.
DEDICATION: I'd like to dedicate this to all the fine authors who have sent fiction in to the Wolverine X-Fiction archive lately. You were my inspiration. I think you should take that as a compliment. *grins*
Kitty was sitting in the entertainment room of the x-mansion half-heartedly recopying her notes from Hank McCoy's class in quantum physics when Jubilee came roaring into the room. The girl in trademark yellow stared at her roommate intently but did not say a word. Kitty was in the process of preparing for her graduate school entrance exams and Jubilee had been warned by Jean, Scott, Storm, Professor Xavier, Hank, Remy, Rogue and Bobby to avoid disrupting her studies at all costs.
Kitty bit her lip in order to prevent a sly smile from appearing on her face. She almost giggled as Jubilee began fidgeting on one foot and then the other in an attempt to prevent herself from saying a word. She was obviously desperate to spill some new, juicy secret before her brain exploded. Figuring it would be easier to find more study time than it would be to clean Jubilee gray-matter out of the carpet, Kitty decided to put her friend out of her misery.
"Okay Jubes," she said, carefully marking the place she had left off and closing her notebook, "spill before you hurt yourself."
Jubilee's mouth hung open for a moment before she nonchalantly sat down in the chair across from Kitty.
"I don't hafta tell you. Maybe, I'll just keep it to myself."
Kitty snorted.
"Not likely. Besides, if you tell me your secret, I'll tell you what I caught Mr. Summers and Ms. Grey doing in the kitchen this morning." Kitty smiled smugly.
Jubilee pretended to consider the offer for a moment. After all, she couldn't look too desperate for gossip.
"Well," she said, "I don't know. Is it good? 'Cuz what I have is really good."
Kitty grinned mischievously.
"I'll give you this much. It involves several frozen bananas, chocolate sauce and," Kitty dropped her voice and leaned toward Jubilee slowly, "whipped cream."
"But we don't have any whipped cream," Jubilee said, unimpressed. "Bobby ate the last of it during our ice cream raid last night. Besides, it sounds like they were just making something for breakfast."
Kitty smiled serenely.
"I know, but Mr. Summer's went to the store this morning and bought more. Maybe I should also tell you that I also heard Ms. Grey say 'Oh harder, do it harder'."
Jubilee squeaked and swallowed her gum.
"Okay, Okay," she exclaimed, "I'll bite. You're sure to find out as soon as Rogue gets out from her team meeting anyway." Jubilee grinned derisively. "Logan came home last night."
Kitty snorted. "I could have guessed that from what you said about Rogue."
Jubilee rolled her eyes and proceeded to blow a large florescent green bubble with her gum.
"That's not the important part, silly. The important part is that he didn't come home alone."
"Oh man," Kitty groaned, "haven't we heard this fan fic before? Her name is Dixie or Billy or Bimbette and she's a redheaded stripper that he picked up in some horn-n-hoof dive in Canada, right?"
Jubilee glared at her roommate. The two girls had made a pact not to publicly discuss the fan fiction they had found on the internet. It had been hard for Jubilee to keep it under her hat; however, she had found considerable incentive when Kitty reminded her what Rogue would do if she found out about the "Wolverine and Jubilee" website. The fur would fly, and Jubilee liked her powers right where they were thank-you-very-much.
"Shhhhh," Jubilee said, carefully making sure that there were no other mutants lurking around to hear. "Quiet with anfay-ictionfay before Ms. Grey, Mr. Summers or the Professor hear you. They'll probably start monitoring our internet access and then we won't be able to read any of the really good stuff."
"You mean all those stories with you and Wolvie knocking books?" Kitty asked smugly.
Jubilee blushed.
"No, actually, I was thinking more along the lines of that one where you reveal that you want to lose your virginity to both Mr. Summers and Wolvie," Jubilee shot back. "Besides, I never said Wolvie brought a woman back with him."
Kitty looked sick.
"You mean he brought a guy home," Kitty exclaimed. "He really is gay like those stories said? I never would have thought- Oh, Rogue must be crushed. We shou-"
"No, he's not gay," Jubilee said exasperatedly.
"Well, if he didn't bring a woman home with him and he's not gay, then what is he? Asexual?"
Jubilee grimaced.
"Kitty, you are sooo disgusting. I can't believe you-" Jubilee's voice dropped off and her eyes glazed over as she looked at some distant object Kitty could not identify.
Kitty waved her hand in front of Jubilee's face and was just beginning to get a little worried about her when Jubilee shook herself free of whatever had been holding her.
"Sorry," she said with an impish grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, "I was just imagining Wolvie reproducing asexually."
"Oh," Kitty shrieked, firing several pillows at her roommate, "that's disgusting."
"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."
* * * * *
Jean and Scott were walking past the entertainment room when they heard Kitty and Jubilee scuffling around.
"Should we go in there and tell them to take it to the Danger Room," Scott asked, prepared to head into the fray and cut through any nonsense that might be going on.
Jean reached out with her mind and touched lightly on both of the girl's psyches. She allowed the contact to exist only long enough to determine that both of the girls were amused. Her lip curled into a wry grin as she gathered the gist of their conversation. Logan asexually reproducing, indeed! That would be the day.
In an effort to maintain the brief semblance of peace that had developed between Scott and Logan, she pushed her better half further down the hallway. The last thing she needed was for him to recognize or acknowledge the fact that the gruff, brooding Canadian was a potently magnetic draw for young, teenaged girls. Or, for any living, breathing woman, for that matter.
"I don't think they need us butting in," she said.
Scott looked at Jean doubtfully.
"But that's what we do," he said, gesturing back and forth between them.
"Not on days when Kitty catches us going at it in the kitchen. Together we have the combined credibility rating of Bill Clinton and Richard Nixon," she said, letting just enough acid into her voice to prove to him that she meant business.
"Well, if you recall correctly, I'm not the one who said we had to use the counter because the bananas would thaw before we got back to our room."
Jean blushed. That was true enough. Her little frozen fruit fetish had contributed significantly to their behavior in the kitchen that morning. She made a mental note to have Scott install a small refrigerator/freezer in their bedroom.
"That's not the point, Scott," she said. "What I'm trying to say is that neither of us really has a leg to stand on if we go in there spouting rules and regulations."
"Well, it sounded like you were blaming it on me," Scott said petulantly. His lower lip protruded ever so slightly above his upper as he began to pout.
Jean shook her head.
"Well," she said in a cajoling tone of voice, "if you promise to be a good boy during our meeting with the Professor and Logan, I'll ignore it if you sign on to the X-Men fan fiction forum when we get back to our room. I'll even take the child safety setting off so you can access anything you want."
"Anything?" Scott asked, his eyes temporarily crossing. He couldn't believe his luck. He had permission to not only read x-fiction, but any kind of x-fiction! His long hours of staring blankly at the computer screen were good preparation for his role as leader of the X-Men, he thought. If he could maintain a straight face while reading his way through a three-way with Storm and Jean, he could do anything.
Jean thought quickly as she watched little drops of drool form at the corners of Scott's mouth. If he was distracted by the fiction, maybe he wouldn't notice if she strolled around the (un)Frozen archives. A man with instant freezing abilities could make for a lot of frozen bananas -- and other things.
They looked at each other.
"It's a deal," they said in unison and began hurrying in a dignified manner down the hall. As they walked, Scott thought about how blissfully in harmony they were. The two were obviously meant for each other, and Mr. "dick-of-steel " would just have to find some other mutant for his all-night sex-a-thons.
Jean was busy wondering how she could get her -- hands -- yeah, that's it, on more frozen bananas. Hey, don't blame the messenger, it's not my fault they've got filthy minds. Oh wait, it is. . . nevermind, let's just get on with the story, shall we?
* * * * *
When Scott and Jean walked in to the Professor's office, the first thing they saw was Logan lounging on a leather sofa with no shirt on. Rogue was sitting beside him; well, to be honest, it was more like half on top of him, but you get the picture.
Jean rolled her eyes. Behaving like that, and in public! To make matters worse, she was a former student and she didn't even have red hair! She pouted. There was always more Rogue-n-Logan centric fiction out there than Jean-n-Logan. It just wasn't fair. Didn't these fan fiction writer people understand unrequited love?
Jean's thoughts were interrupted by the slow, honeyed drawl of Rogue's voice.
"Logan, did Ah mention that the Professor has helped me to control mah powers?"
The young woman began running her hands across Logan's bare chest.
Logan looked uncomfortably at his "no-longer-of-jailbait-age" protégé.
"Yeah," he said, "I think you managed to mention that a few dozen times in the last hour."
Rogue smiled at him brightly. The fiction said the first step to getting Logan's attention was to find a way around her powers. She'd managed to do that. Next, she was supposed to call attention to her overly-developed feminine charms. She couldn't remember her breasts being quiet as big before she started reading fan fiction. She was almost popping out of her miracle bra. But, she figured it might be a side-effect of the fan fiction. Since Logan was sure to like it, she wasn't terribly worried. Anyway, she thought, it'd probably work out in the long run.
"Logan," she asked in her best sultry drawl, "do you want these back?"
She slowly pulled at the chain of the dogtags. When they didn't immediately appear, she kept tugging. Gee, she thought, maybe this is a little too much cleavage.
Logan stared at the woman who was frantically jerking at the chain that was clasped between her mountainous breasts. He had no idea who had convinced her to get a boob job, but it really was a turn-off. Hell, even if he could touch her, he'd never get closer than those two enormous ridges of flesh.
Rogue continued yanking at the chain, ignoring the ugly red welts that were beginning to appear on her flesh.
"I could help you with that," Scott said a bit too eagerly. When everyone in the room turned to stare at him, he follow the statement with a weak, "team leader, just trying to help."
Logan grunted as he stared a hole through Scott that even a guy named Cyclops would be proud of.
"It looks like the Professor was right," Logan said as he stood and walked to the window. The three other X-Men admired the view of his muscular ass in tight black jeans as he walked. Standing in a beam of sunlight that caused the hair on his chest to glisten against his flesh, Logan was briefly dazed by the expressions on his teammates'--all his teammates--faces.
Chuck was right. He was some kind of sexual god in this fan fiction world. Logan smirked as he took in Scott's growing erection. He filed that particular tidbit away for use on a day when insult material was running particularly low.
"Logan, did I mention that you can touch me now?" Rogue asked, still pulling away at the chain between her breasts.
Logan sighed. As much fun as it would be gathering material on these people, this threat to the team needed to be stopped.
"Yes, Marie, I believe you mentioned it."
He smiled at her patiently so she wouldn't begin to pout.
"Okay, so I guess I should begin by telling you where I've been for the last six months."
Jean shrugged.
"If you really think you have to," she said. "We all know you've either been hunting for a shred of your past, captured and tortured by Magneto, Mystique, Sabretooth or a combination of the three, running away from your relationships with me and Rogue, or fighting on the Cage circuit in Canada. Or, maybe a combination of a bunch of those things."
Logan frowned. If fan fiction had made him this predictable, then it had to be stopped at once. Predictability was the least damn thing he was going to stand for.
Scott decided to chime in so Jean wouldn't forget him in the face of Logan's rather potent sexual charisma.
"Shouldn't we be waiting for the Professor?"
Logan looked at Scott and cocked an eyebrow. He ignored the sighs this movement drew from both Jean and Rogue. Women were turned on by the weirdest things.
"Don't you think you should tone down the Xavier-envy just a little? People are going to start saying that your relationship with Jean is just a cover."
"I've never thought about Charles in that way," Scott exclaimed.
Jean looked at him.
"Well, it's true! It was that awful fan fiction writer who did that."
Scott gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands. Oh great, now he'd done it. The cat was out of the bag. Scott looked at Jean with a hesitant smile. She said nothing, choosing to silently glare at him. She's going to punish me, Scott thought, his cock twitching in eager anticipation.
Logan silently calculated the amount of time that he had left before Scott and Jean started rolling around on the floor and decided that he'd better get a move on.
"Anyway," he said loudly in an attempt to regain their attention, "Chuck's a little busy right now, so he asked me to handle this for him. I've been gone the last few months because I've been on a secret mission for the Professor."
Scott, Jean and Rogue looked dismayed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The fan fiction writers said so!
"He sent me on this mission because he knew I was the only team member who didn't bother with all that internet crap. So, he knew I would safely bring the culprit in."
"The culprit?" Jean asked, a touch of fear in her voice. Surely he couldn't mean . . .
"Yup," he said, "I brought in the person responsible for all this fan fiction freakishness."
"Oh Logan," Rogue cried, "how could you! She's probably some stripper from a bar in Canada. Ah bet mah boobs are bigger!" As she spoke, Rogue thrust her hand down into her cleavage in a desperate attempt to find his dogtags. If he only saw them, he was sure to remember that he had made a lifelong commitment to her. And, Rogue figured, quite astutely, that it was as close as any woman was going to get to receiving an engagement ring from the Wolverine.
Scott and Jean stared at the arm that had disappeared between Rogue's breasts.
"If you perverts are about ready," Logan said, "I'd like to get on with this."
Jean and Scott looked at Logan sheepishly and Rogue stopped fishing for the metallic object long enough to listen to what Logan had to say.
"So, like I said, Xavier sent me off to find the source of all this fan fiction. It took awhile. I tell you these writers live all over the place. Anyway, I got a hot tip from an informant of mine in Vegas, which eventually led me back to someone we're all a little familiar with.
Logan walked to the door to go retrieve his special package.
"No sex while I'm gone," he admonished.
"Oh sure," Scott grumbled, "you can have a threesome with them, but I can't."
* * * * *
When Logan returned to the room with his "package" five minutes later, Scott had a smug grin on his face and Jean's pants were on--backwards. As far as Logan could tell, Marie seemed completely unaffected by this because she was still fishing between the twin peaks of Everest that she called breasts.
"Marie," he said cajolingly, "you really don't have to find those for me. They're fine right where they are."
Rogue shook her head.
"No, the fan fiction says you have to see 'em or Ah won't get any action."
Logan gave up the fight. She was obviously too far gone to be reasoned with. He'd just have to hope that she returned to normal after he killed the source of all the wretched fan fiction that was causing the team to go to hell. How were they supposed to stop Magneto if Rogue constantly had her hands all over him or herself. And, Scott and Jean were so busy fucking like monkeys that they were completely worthless.
"Anyway, this is the root of all your fan fiction," he said, showing them what looked like a rather pricey blue vibrator.
Scott laughed.
"Good one, Logan. That high-powered sniffer of yours tracked down a vibrator. Was it a difficult capture? Must have been one hell of a fight."
The X-Men's team leader clutched at his sides as he continued to quake with laughter. Somehow, Jean managed to stifle her own amusement, sure that pissing Logan off was not the best way to find a place in his bed.
Logan ignored Scott's laughter and Marie's pleading looks at the vibrator. These people really were sick.
"Come on, Blue," he said, "you might as well come on out. You've reached the end of the road. There's no way you're getting out of here in one piece."
Slowly, the shape of the blue vibration device began to change. Scott, Jean and Marie were stunned when little yellow eyes appeared along with red shining lips and startlingly white teeth. Mystique evidently took a break from world domination long enough to maintain good dental hygiene.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Jean whined, "everyone knows Mystique is a slut."
Logan watched Jean fidget with the seam of her backwards pants and somehow managed to find the self-control to contain the "said the pot of the kettle" that was itching to burst from his lips. Instead, he turned to Mystique, who had finally assumed her true form. His eyes skirted over her body. Now this was how a woman should be--completely unafraid of her sexuality and the body that nature had given her.
"What I don't understand," he said, "is why you let me capture you so easily. You went to all that trouble to fuck with the team, and, in the end, you hide in a shape with no obvious defensive features. You had to know I'd sniff you out."
Mystique said nothing. Instead, her lips spread in the hypnotically erotic smile she was well known for.
"Oh my god, of course," Scott exclaimed, suddenly seeming to reacquire the mental acumen that had helped him earn his place as the leader of the X-Men. "Don't you see, she wanted to get captured. This entire exercise has been about her getting captured by you!"
Logan looked at Scott doubtfully. His visor had to be on too tight.
"No really," Scott said, "just listen to me for a minute. So, it's well documented that Mystique likes sex. And, if any of the stories about her are true, which I'm assuming they are, she likes really twisted, freakish sex."
"I see where you're going with this," Jean said. "So, Magneto sends her to the school to check out Rogue and disable the Professor. In the process, she runs into Logan. She follows him around, maybe even talks to him in the guise of me."
"Thinking he's talking to me, and hoping to piss you off, Scott, he probably flirted with her. That got her attention enough that when we showed up on Liberty Island, she assumed his form, which guaranteed that he'd end up fighting with her."
"They fight; and, being the twisted individual that she is, it probably turned her on. Now, she's got a problem. She wants him, but he hates her; and, even worse, he can smell her, so she can't try any of her usual tricks."
No one bothered to ask how Jean knew about Mystique's "usual tricks". Most of them had already read the fan fiction.
"So," Scott said, picking up the story where Jean left off, "in order to get your attention-"
"And, probably to get her rocks off," Rogue chimed in.
"She starts this fan fiction phenomenon on the internet," Scott said.
"Magneto was probably in on it too," Jean said, "if you consider all the stories on there about him. And, he probably encouraged her to get other people writing about all of us, so no one would be the wiser."
"I should have figured out that something was up when Logan became the sexual stud of the outfit," Scott said. None of the mutants in the room needed to see below his visor in order to know that he'd just rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, but you're forgetting one thing," Logan said. "What the hell is she going to get out of it besides the sharp end of my claws?"
"Punish," Mystique purred.
"Hey," Rogue exclaimed, rising from the couch, "who said Ah was goin' ta let you near mah man, sister!"
Logan rolled his eyes. Just what he needed, a cat-fight.
"Are they going to remember any of this when this is all over?" Logan asked.
Mystique shrugged.
Logan considered for a moment. He could let Marie have at her, but the eventual outcome would be iffy. Scott and Jean were on the floor, apparently--celebrating--the amazing intellectual bond that had allowed them to figure out Mystique's plan. So, they were of no help.
"Fuck it," he said, throwing Mystique over his shoulder. "You stay here," he said, pointing to Rogue. "I want you right there when I get back. Just, cover your eyes or something to avoid looking at that," he said, gesturing toward the gyrating bodies of Scott and Jean.
~~~ Hours Later ~~~
Rogue sat on the couch, half-heartedly picking at the chain between her breasts. She was still unable to find Logan's dogtags in the cleft of her cleavage. But, at least it was better than looking at the goofy expressions on Jean and Scott's faces. They had obviously had a lot of fun. She made a mental note to tell the Professor that she wasn't responsible for the large stain on his oriental rug.
She fidgeted on the cushion and wondered, for the billionth time, what Logan was doing with Mystique. Rogue sighed. She could only imagine because he'd never taken the time to do anything like that with her. A tear threatened to roll down her cheek, but she refused to let it fall. She wouldn't cry over him. She wouldn't. It was exactly what she did in all the fan fiction stories.
~~~ Hours Later ~~~
Jubilee poked her head into Professor Xavier's office.
"Don't you guys want to come down for dinner? Remy and Hank are making some kick-ass Cajun food. Crawfish. Gumbo. All that stuff."
Rogue, Scott and Jean looked at her.
"Sorry," Jean said, "we're waiting for Logan to come back so we can finish our meeting."
Jubilee shrugged and ran off down to the kitchen to snag more food before it all vanished.
~~~ Hours Later ~~~
Jean and Scott were playing strip tic-tac-toe on Xavier's desk. Rogue sighed and continued to avert her gaze. Watching your co-workers do the nasty on the big boss's desk was a little disconcerting.
Rogue pressed her hand against the side of her breast, it sure was feeling funny.
~~~ Hours Later ~~~
Rogue looked down at her chest. Unless she was seeing things, both of her breasts seemed to have returned to their normal size. She yanked at the chain of the dogtags and the shiny metal rectangle immediately appeared in the palm of her hand. She inspected the tags carefully. They looked none the worse for wear despite the extreme pressure that had been applied to them lately.
Rogue looked over at Scott and Jean, who stood in front of the large picture window.
"Oh yeah, Scott. Give it to momma. Right there."
She sighed. Well, at least one thing was back to normal.
~~~ Hours Later ~~~
The door to the office swung open and Logan strolled in. His arms, chest and back were covered in a fine mesh of scratches that were already beginning to heal. Mystique had obviously had one hell of a time.
Logan took in the scene. Jean and Scott had finally succumbed to exhaustion and lay in a pile of naked flesh on the floor. He figured he should wake them up, but why bother. The Professor was sure to come stumbling in on them at some point. What he wouldn't give to be sitting here when he did.
"Well," he said to the woman sitting patiently on the couch, "the old girl finally gave up the ghost."
Rogue stared at him, her chin nearly resting on her chest.
"You mean to tell me you fucked her?" she asked.
He nodded.
"To death?"
He nodded again.
"What can I say, darlin'," he said. "Not everything was a work of fiction."
He grinned.
"Besides, I am the best at what I do."
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