You've got that healing touch
Magic charm
Baby blow me down
Healing touch
Healing Touch - Pretty Maids
With an arm securely wrapped around her brown paper bag of groceries, Ororo Munroe made her way down the lonely street back to her motel. After her second day without food, she realized that in order to hide properly, she should at least be equipped with the right essentials to make it successful. So, when it became dark enough for her to make a quick trip down to the corner store, she did just that.
Her hand absently traced over the bulge of her blade through her side jeans' pocket for the fourth time during her outing. She hadn't meant to be so paranoid, but she figured that if she wasn't something was liable to happen as soon as her guard was down. The groceries slipped and she tripped over her own foot as she tried to secure them from falling to the ground. It wasn't as if she had anything breakable in the bag, but her instinct had taken over and she cradled them protectively all the while trying to make sure her hood stayed in place.
The last thing she needed was for that blasted hood to come off her head. If there was anything that would give away her hiding, it would be her snow white hair. She had made sure to purchase a wig (not a very attractive one) from the store that night as well. She had frowned at the curly brown wig and shrugged, adding it to her small cart she had carried with her around the store. The wig landed on three large bags of flavored tortilla chips and one large bottle of water with a *thud* and she had continued her shopping...
A black pickup truck drove past and Ororo kept her eyes forward, ignoring the catcalls and wolf whistles being thrown her way. It was something she'd learned to ignore over the years, realizing that men of that nature felt some sort of pride when they did that to women. She was one of the many women, however, that did not approve nor appreciate it.
When the truck stopped and began to back up slowly it was then that Ororo felt a slight twinge of panic and picked up the pace in her step.
"Where you going, pretty?"
"Yeah, we just want to say hello!"
Turning to look at them and noticing it was four of them, she clenched her jaw and turned her face forward again and sighed. "So say it and be on your way," she mumbled to herself and kept a brave front.
Chuckling was amidst the men in the pickup and she shook her head. This was obviously going to be a long night. She realized she would much rather risk slowing her step than have them find out where she lived. Of all the nights to be out, she chose the night when next to no one was around.
...save for her and the four men in the truck.
When the men made no move to continue on, she stopped and turned to look at them. The man driving stared at her with a look in his eyes that made her chest tighten. Her own eyes pleaded with him. The sound of motorcycle in the background made her turn in the direction of it and she saw a shadowed figure climb off the motorcycle. She looked back at the men and turned back in the direction of the the store, trying to walk as fast and noisy as she could to get the man's attention.
The door to the pickup creaked as it opened and Ororo started in a sprint toward the store. She didn't get very far as an arm came around her waist, pulling her back to the truck. Before she could pull her blade from her pocket, two strong hands lifted her arms up over her head and another two grabbed her by the ankles. Her groceries fell to the ground. The sound of chips being crunched underneath sneakers indicated the sound of a struggle as her long legs jerked and she writhed against the portly man that had grabbed her from behind.
In the middle of her tussle, her hood came off her head and her white hair spilled out over her shoulders.
"Fuck," one of the men whispered as she looked up at him, her blue eyes piercing into his own. "I think we hit the jackpot," he smirked and rubbed the bulge in the front of his jeans, walking towards Ororo.
"We have to get her in the truck first, dickhead." The portly man was now speaking as he began to pull her back towards their truck. "Keep her mouth covered. This bitch will scream as soon as she can get a chance."
Her eyes widened at the sound of that and she fought harder, getting one leg out of the tight grip he had on her. Her leg swung and she hit the man underneath his chin. More laughter ensued as he stumbled back and she now stood on her two feet, jumping up and down. This caused the hand that was covering her mouth to slip and she called out as loudly as she could for help.
The second time she called out for help, the man that she kicked in his chin's hand came up, backhanding her across the face and she slumped for a moment. She struggled once more and her legs went swinging.
"Crazy bitch!" He said angrily and ripped her shirt right down the middle.
Beer.
That was the initial reason he'd ventured to this store. To buy a case of beer he could take home with him and enjoy the rest of the evening in his own drunken stupor. He parked his motorcycle just in front of the entrance doors and he heard a tussle to his right. A woman in an argument with a group of men, he snorted and stuck the cigar in his mouth, biting the tip of it.
He didn't give the pickup truck a second thought as he made his way for the store. His hearing had always been much better than the average person's. When he was a small child...
He shook the thought away and an ear perked when he heard the car door slam and heard feet hitting the pavement in what he could only assume as a nervous sprint.
None of them even saw him coming as they fought to get the woman in the truck. She was doing a damn good job of fighting them off and he had the nerve to slow his step as she kicked the man in the chin. Her hair was a shocking white that contrasted beautifully with her mocha skin and he growled as the man backhanded her and ripped her shirt open.
"So ya' bastards like pickin' on women!" He said angrily, his fist connected with the man that had ripped her shirt open, knocking him off his feet.
He had no idea why he'd come and gotten involved in this tussle but whatever stupid reason it was, he couldn't stop now as he saw a flicker of white fly through the air. The fat fucker charged for him and he grunted as he bent over, lifted the fat man with his shoulder and flipped him on his back. Turning around to look down at the man, his boot came down on the man's face, his head bouncing on the concrete. He looked down at the man as a bubble of blood came from his nose and popped, staining his top lip. He hoped he had killed the bastard.
"Fuck!" He said angrily when a string of a man jumped his back and he wheeled around trying to shake him off. Anytime she wanted to help him - ah, perfect timing. He heard a *thump* and the man yelled and fell back, hitting the ground. Logan looked around to see his girl attempting to stomp a hole in the man's stomach.
The last man, who couldn't have been more than five feet tall, held up his arms and hightailed it, leaving his three unconscious friends and Logan standing there starng at the woman who's life he had just saved. Amidst all the groans and grunts, she smoothed back her hair and gave him a beautiful smile that made him want to pick her up and hop on his bike.
Her Savior.
She knew the moment she saw him charging over that would be the name she was going to give him. For one fleeting moment as the man had ripped open her shirt, she had the impression that he was going to play it safe and pretend as if he didn't hear. She was wrong. He heard her cries for help and he had come to save her.
However, the whole notion of him being "her savior" sounded crazy in her head and she shook the thought away. She heaved the large jug of water across the head of the lean man that had jumped his back, successfully knocking him off and saw him promptly collapse on the ground followed by her own boot stomping him in the stomach a few times. When she turned to look at the last man standing, she turned to see the back of him as he ran down the street.
Thank you.
She should have said it instead of giving him a stupid smile but her words had failed her once she'd locked eyes with him. Hazel. She planted that in her head as she could only stare at him. Her eyes would not betray her and take in his chiseled arms, the dimple in his chin, or the unruly hair. Too late. Her eyes went over him briefly. She gave him the impression that she was sizing him up though it hadn't really mattered since he'd taken out two men with ease.
"Here," his gruff voice startled her and she frowned as he lifted the shirt (she noticed it stained with drops of blood) he was wearing off his head and tossed it at her. His eyes instinctively lowered to her exposed chest and she caught the shirt and lifted it over her head, noting that it smelled of cigar smoke, beer, and the faintest hint of blood. It was his blood, she assumed as she saw it stained through his white tank top. There were ugly purple bruises on his sides and a cut underneath his eye. Much like the cut she'd received the night she'd run...
"You better get out of here before these assholes wake up," he muttered, turning his back to her and walking away.
She pulled at his faded black tee shirt and bit her bottom lip. His hair blew in the breeze and she pushed stray hair from her face. "Wait a minute!" She trotted behind him and tapped him on the back of his shoulder. She could have sworn a smirk from his profile as he turned around but she realized it was another scowl. "Those are some pretty bad cuts," she began, her eyes roaming over his body. The closer she was to him, she saw that there were more bruises than she could count.
Shrugging it off, he looked down. She couldn't help but smile at the cigar still in his mouth, even after all the fighting. "I can take care of those. I mean, it's the least I could do for you since you were nice enough to help me." She looked over her shoulder and saw the portly man's knee lift in the air slightly.
Ororo turned back to him and perked her eyebrows.
"Kid, I get bruises like this all the time."
"I am not a kid," her brow creased as she frowned.
Now it was his turn to give her the once over and she tightened the grasp she had on his shirt with her left hand. "I noticed."
"I have a healing touch!" She lifted her hands and wiggled her fingers at him, offering him another smile. In truth, she'd rather ride off in the night with this stranger than be left behind to get caught again by one of her comrades in the truck. The urge to steal that truck had hit her like a sharp pain in her stomach and she was much safer away from the scene of the crime.
He chuckled at that and jerked his head in the direction of the motorcycle. "Come on," he turned to walk and she followed behind him, forgetting about her groceries, the black truck, or the men riding in it.
Neither one of them knew what they were doing this starless night. The moon glowed over them as he sped down an almost empty highway. He passed a few cars here and there and she looked at each and every single one of them. She had no reason for doing it, it was just something to keep her occupied as she latched on to him. Her fingers had locked with one another and he could feel her head resting against his back.
Holding back his growl, he sped up and looked forward.
Her hair trailed behind her as he picked up speed and she took in his scent, smiling into the night. The wind whipped their faces and howled in their ears.
His apartment was thirty minutes away and he pulled into an alleyway between two shabby run down apartment buildings The speed of his bike slowed dramatically and he came up to a makeshift garage. "I stay on the second floor," he told her, motioning to the fire escape ladder. She nodded her head and hopped off the bike and headed over to the ladder, climbing it one step at a time.
Logan's eyes went to her backside briefly and he climbed off his bike and lifted the garage he'd made the first night he moved into his apartment. He pushed his bike inside of it and came out, pulling the door down and locking it with a chain. If someone stole his bike he prayed to the heavens he never found them.
For their own safety.
Ororo stood on the the balcony with her arms wrapped securely around her. Her eyes widened and her hand reached down to run over the blade in her pocket. She had forgotten all about it.
"Somethin' the matter, darlin'?" He asked her, appearing out of nowhere and maneuvering the window to open. She shook her head then followed it with a soft "no" and he turned back to look and stepped aside to let her climb in before him. Both of them knew she hadn't come here to heal any bruises on his chest, his arms, or anywhere else on his body.
Or perhaps, maybe she was.
He climbed in behind her and shut the door, locking it securely. "Want something to eat?" He asked with with a shrug and went to sit on the couch. He gave an involuntary groan as his sides ached when he sat down and she looked at him.
"Take the shirt off," she instructed, going into his kitchen and grabbing the dishtowel from the sink. She ran it under the tap and turned on warm water. She could feel his eyes on her and she turned to look at him. "Ororo," she said after a moment and looked down at the towel.
O... what? He made a face at that and then realized that was her name. He'd never remember that. It wasn't as if he'd need to...
Right?
"I'm Logan," it sounded more like a grunt than actually speaking when he said it. His shirt now lay idly on the arm of his lump of a couch. He'd found this couch next to a dumpster and he knew the reason why as he sat on it and bounced a little. The sea green color did not add appeal to it either.
Ororo nodded her head when he said his name and turned to walk back towards him. She took in a sharp intake of breath when she came to face his bare chest and squeezed the towel gently. She knelt down and moved between his legs, pressing the towel to his bruises. She wiped the cut that had been the reason for him bleeding through his shirt and he hissed. Logan looked down at her and swallowed. He removed his cigar (that he still hadn't lit) and placed it on the coffee table. He was so used to mending himself these days that he was oddly surprised at how gentle her long skinny fingers were on his chest.
It took her off guard when large calloused hands grabbed her upper arms firmly and he pulled her into a fiery kiss.
He lifted her with an unsurprising ease and she straddled him, moaning into his mouth softly. His hands cupped her bottom and gave it a firm squeeze. "Fuck, it's so soft," he whispered as he pulled away from her and patted her backside. She leaned in and tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth and he growled, cupping the back of her head and pressing his lips to hers, this time forcing his tongue between her lips.
He cursed her jeans as his erection throbbed painfully through his own. She made a sound against his lips as she brought her hips down over his, feeling the subtle rub of his erection to her center. These jeans had to come off and they had to come off quickly.
"Fuck!" He whispered once he'd pulled back to gather enough oxygen to pull her back into another bruising kiss. His hands moved to the front of her jeans and she jerked roughly against him as he unbuttoned them skillfully. Magically removing her blue jeans was not going to happen so she pulled off him to stand. She was barely standing and he pulled her jeans down with such a swift force that she almost fell back into the coffee table. She pulled down her underwear and his hands covered hers as they slid down her thighs to her ankles.
When she stepped out of them, he unbuttoned his own jeans and pulled them off with his boxers down to his knees quickly. "C'mere," he commanded, pulling her down to straddle him again.
He didn't give her a moment to gain her senses as he slid his thick shaft inside of her. They both cried out in ecstasy as his penis was engulfed in slick tight warmness and he stretched her, rubbing against her clitoris with each rough thrust. He guided her hips over his, digging his blunt fingernails in her skin bruising her and made her bounce as he lifted his behind in the air to pound himself up into her.
"Ah!" She cried as he buried his face in the swell of her breasts, kissing them through the fabric of his shirt. He lifted his head and made a frown of deep concentration as he tried to fill her to the very hilt.
Her head fell forward and she rested her forehead against his. Her warm breath bounced off his dry lips and he pulled her body close to his so he could fill her completely. Ororo's body ached with a sweet mixture of pleasure and pain.
Thinking was of no circumstance at this moment. Too far gone and incoherent, neither of them could think about what they both were doing. For Logan, this was easy. He'd been with women whose names he hadn't cared to know on a regular basis. It was Ororo that hade never quite experienced something like this before. She'd always overthought things at inappropriate times. Why shouldn't she be allowed to indulge in one wild night?
Logan's quick rough thrusts into her tight wet space made him growl against her chest. Her cries of pleasure mingled with his own. His hands pulled at the shirt and the sound of a seam ripping made them halt briefly.
Their eyes locked on one another, hazel staring into blue with their chests rising and falling rapidly. Her parted lips were swollen and bruised from his rough kiss.
He had almost told her she was beautiful.
Almost.
Their hips began to move once more in sync. The sounds of skin pounding on skin now heard through the next to empty living room. He started slow and then began to move his hips relentlessly into her, going as fast as he possibly could. His thrusts were quick and rough and it wasn't long before he felt that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach and his muscles tensed.
"Fuck - ah - fuck - I'm -" he pulled her hair roughly and her head jerked back. He came suddenly spilling his seed into her and lifted his face to kiss her once more. Her moans were muffled by his lips and he gave her backside another firm squeeze. Her walls clenched around him and his hips jerked against his own will.
Her hips continued to work against his and then they came to a complete halt. She did not have the opportunity to climax but that did not stop the lazy grin the spread on her face as she tilted her head back and let out a long sigh. The last bit of his seed spilled into her and she bowed her head forward and pressed her hands to his chest.
"Don't go," was the last thing he said to her as he held her close to him and his eyelids became very heavy.
The entire notion was crazy - no, insane - to lay here in the arms of man she had just met for the rest of the night, though it didn't compare to how it was even more crazy that she had just slept with him. She didn't protest though and she nodded her head, running a finger over his lips and watching until he'd fallen asleep.
And that was how they stayed...
He woke up the next morning laying on his couch with a crook in his neck. The ripped shirt she had been wearing before he gave her his own shirt on his coffee table. He lifted it and sniffed it, closing his eyes and letting out a soft growl. She smelled like the earth after a thunderstorm.
She was gone.
