Jean Grey

[morinotsume]

Well, if that didn't beat all... It was almost unfair, really -- he'd thought about it, sure, but it was never the right time. Never the right world. For mutants, for him, it never seemed to be the right environment to give that dream voice, so he'd just... ignored it, or reminded himself what had happened the last time he'd gotten complacent and thought hey, let's bring a little Logan into the world.

The sincerity in Jean's eyes was what really sold it for him. She knew more than anyone the things that would make him worry, fear and doubt -- she'd lived through them in her own right. Owned the responsibility for the likes of Nathan and Rachel the way he had for Laura and Akihiro and Gabby...

His thumb brushed over the rise of her cheekbone, as the wave of emotions finally calmed, smoothing the sands of his chaotic mind. "Then... what are we waiting for?"

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean's eyes had been on Logans the whole time he had been silent. She tried to see if she could figure out what he was thinking. In a way she knew, he had been thinking about what she said considering it, taking it all in. Something about it excited her. He was considering it, knowing they both were in the right place now. Both had taken on the responsibilities of children. She leaned into his thumb as it brushed over her cheekbone. Her hand reached up to touch his cheek. "For you to be absolutely sure you want this as much as I do."

[morinotsume]

"Absolutely not." Snickering, he reached out to give her chin a light tweak. "So are you serious about this, or are you just wantin' to have a little fun 'tryin'?"

[phoenixbcrn]

"I'm serious Logan.." She gives him a smile, leaning into the hand on her chin. "I'm very serious." Her eyes focused on his. "I've been thinking about it for a while and I think it's time for us.."

[morinotsume]

" ... Cripes, Jeannie, you really don't do nothin' halfway, do ya?"

[phoenixbcrn]

"Have you ever known me to half ass anything Logan?"

[phoenixbcrn]

@morinotsume

"Wanna make a baby?" Jean smirked up a Logan.

[morinotsume]

Some may cast him as some kind of animal -- a bloodthirsty, self-serving beast, all claws and teeth and his own desires... but few people realized animals only hunt when they're hungry. The other side of the coin was the bond; the need for closeness, possessive not out of jealousy, but out of a desire to protect. He'd fought for years to kill the feelings he'd had for Jean. He respected Scott, even if he often publicly disagreed with him. To him it was nothing but a test of his convictions. Could the kid really be a leader of a team with guys like Wolverine?

Well, Scott had stuck to his principles, in the end. Unfortunately, that had meant losing the one thing he couldn't afford to lose. Part of Logan felt a real sympathy for the man, God knew he'd had women choose someone else over him...

but damned if he couldn't feel a little kick from getting the girl. He just hoped he really was worthy of Jean after all that.

"If you insist," he hummed, and then he was slipping down her body, hands pushing her shirt upward to nuzzle his face into the warm flesh he bared, pressing soft kisses along her sternum.

[phoenixbcrn]

Her mind soared as Logan nuzzled her skin and pressed kisses to her sternum. "Logan.. I do.." She whimpers softly and and moves to pull his shirt off, smiling at him. "I.. want only you.. Logan." She couldn't believe that she finally had him, finally could allow herself to love Logan openly. She had to pinch herself from time to time, to remember that this was real, they were real. They were finally getting to have their moment, their time.. A real love.

[view-from-up-here]

[southeastsappho]

queue this post when it’s your birthday and be surprise

[morinotsume]

He couldn't help a low chuckle at her teasing tone. "Girl, if I didn't know better I'd think you had no plan of ever goin' dancin'," Logan joked, giving her a gentle push toward the door. "C'mon, I owe ya a spin an' you owe me a beer." On his way past his dresser he picked up the jingling ring of keys, tucked it into his pocket. He'd forgo the motorcycle tonight, it'd be quicker and less of a fight with her hair if they just took the truck this time.

[phoenixbcrn]

She smiled and looked at him. "I'm shocked.. the truck Logan.." She was actually super surprised and kinda sad that he didn't want to take the bike. "You know.. if you want to take the bike.. I can pull my hair back, long enough to get there." She winked. "Besides, we both know you are gonna mess my hair up anyways."

[morinotsume]

He made a quiet hissing sound at the feeling of her nails, barely more than pricks against the skin but enough to get the message… No, she wasn't some fragile thing, some precious thing that would crumble in his hands. She was tough, she'd proved it time and again. Not that he wanted to be rough with her -- but a little manhandling could be tolerated, given the situation. He was more than happy to get his hands all over her, tracing her curves, brushing through her hair. Just enjoying the bits of Jean Grey he'd been denied before now.

The pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place, his heart finally being given the reward he deserved.

"Seems we're agreed, then…" Logan hooked her chin with a finger, his thumb lightly running along the space under a lower lip plush and slightly swollen from kisses. "No way in hell I'm lettin' you go this time."

[phoenixbcrn]

"Neither am I.." She shook her head lightly, leaning into his caress. Her lips were still sore from the kisses they had been sharing. Hungry, needy kisses, long overdue. "I lost you once, I'm not going through that hell again."

She pulled him back into a kiss, allowing her hands to find purchase on his skin wherever she could manage to touch. "Don't hold back.." She shivered at the thought of finally, after all this time, getting to allow herself to melt into Logan, to get lost in him. And that's exactly what she planned on doing.

[bettertelepath-moved]

Answered

@phoenixbcrn sent: 📚

"The Origin of Species" by Charles Darwin

"Before entering on the subject of this lesson, I must make a few preliminary remarks, to show how the struggle for existence bears on Natural Selection. I have told you in the last lesson that amongst organic beings in a state of nature there is some individual variability: this has never been disputed. It is immaterial for us whether a multitude of doubtful forms be called species or sub-species or varieties; what rank, for instance, the two or three hundred doubtful forms of British plants are entitled to hold, if the existence of any well-marked varieties be admitted. But the mere existence of individual variability and of some few well-marked varieties, though necessary as the foundation for the work, helps us but little in understanding how species arise in nature. How have all those exquisite adaptations of one part of the organisation to another part, and to the conditions of life, and of one distinct organic being to another being, been perfected? We see these beautiful co-adaptations most plainly in the woodpecker and the mistletoe; and only a little less plainly in the humblest parasite which clings to the hairs of a quadruped or feathers of a bird; in the structure of the beetle which dives through the water; in the plumed seed which is wafted by the gentlest breeze; in short, we see beautiful adaptations everywhere and in every part of the organic world. Again, it may be asked, how is it that varieties, which Charles Darwin has called incipient species, become ultimately converted into good and distinct species, which in most cases differ from each other, like humans and mutants, for example."

The professor looks around the classroom. "Is there anyone who might be capable of providing me with an answer to this question? How is it that species that have adapted in certain ways are capable of adapting in such ways that they become a separate species. And what trait defines whether or not a species has become a separate species?"

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean was listening to the subject at hand. When Professor Xavier gave lessons, Jean always tried to make sure she had done her research, checked over each and every answer possible. Adjusts her red hair and furrows her brow in thought

"Okay, so—think of it like evolution is a super long, ongoing mutation process, right? Species are constantly changing little by little based on their environment. If a group of the same species gets separated—like, say, some end up on an island while others stay on the mainland—they start adapting to their new environments. Over thousands, even millions of years, those small changes can add up until they’re so different that they can’t even have babies together anymore." She looked around the room for a small moment before continuing.

"That’s the key thing—reproductive isolation. If two groups can’t interbreed and make fertile offspring, boom! They’re officially separate species. It’s like if mutants and humans got so genetically different that they couldn’t have kids together anymore—at that point, we wouldn’t just be different types of humans, we’d be totally separate species." She took a deep breath hoping it was a good enough example.

[phoenixbcrn]

She took him in, biting her lip. "Might have borrowed it a few days back when you were outside working on the car." She smiled and stood. "I do believe you promised me dancing." She moved closer to him. Covered in grease or cleaned up, Logan always looked amazing. She let the shirt fall off her shoulder a bit. "Do you want it back?"

[morinotsume]

"Sneaky minx," he teased as she sidled up close. Logan's hands made the brazen move of tucking into the back pockets of her jeans, settling in a fashion that was somehow both possessive and relaxed. They belonged there until she decided to move them. Leaning close, he pressed a kiss to the bared shoulder before his fingers slid the hem back up into place. "Naw, it looks better on you, darlin'. 'Sides, I can get it back later."

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean smirked a bit, leaning into his hands and the kiss to her shoulder. When he moved his hand to scoot the shirt back up over her shoulder, she pressed a kiss to his jaw. "After you pick it up off the floor.." She winked at him.

[morinotsume]

A shower was a foregone conclusion, but he could at least take a washcloth to the worst of the grease on his skin before he changed into a clean outfit. Fairly typical for him, jeans and a collared shirt -- not flannel, opting for cotton in a light blue. He was still drying his face with a hand towel when he came out of the bathroom and caught sight of her sitting on the bed, and for a moment he forgot all about dancing.

"Damn." He let out a soft whistle. "Been lookin' for that shirt."

[phoenixbcrn]

She took him in, biting her lip. "Might have borrowed it a few days back when you were outside working on the car." She smiled and stood. "I do believe you promised me dancing." She moved closer to him. Covered in grease or cleaned up, Logan always looked amazing. She let the shirt fall off her shoulder a bit. "Do you want it back?"

[morinotsume]

Logan grinned, giving her chin a little tweak before heading up to get changed himself; he was covered in grease stains from working on one of the cars.

[phoenixbcrn]

She shook her head and laughed a bit when he tweaked her chin. She disappeared into her closet to get dressed, finding something a little more proper to wear to a honky tonk and then slipped out. While he was hidden she grabbed one of his flannels and disappeared back into her closet, getting her hair up into a loose ponytail and then she sat on the edge of the bed.

[morinotsume]

@phoenixbcrn // ezpz short thing bc i'm lazy

"Get your boots then, girl -- unless you're feelin' a little fancier than that."

[phoenixbcrn]

"Boots it is then.."

[mapofyourstars]

"He remind you of someone?"

[morinotsume]

It took a decent amount to get Logan winded, but even his legendary constitution was susceptible to normal human reactions -- panting gently as she pulled away to look at him, each breath a faint rumble in his throat as he gazed up into those darkened emeralds. Reaching up, he brushed her hair back from her face, setting his hand at the side of her face partly to hold it back, partly to simply look at her. He'd always thought Jean was beautiful, but now, enjoying the privilege of her looking at him with such unguarded, unrestrained desire, she was much more than beautiful. She was… his.

Jean's lips chased ticklish sensations over his skin and he had to chortle quietly; he let her have her fun for a moment, and then his arms wound around her, shifting to half-turn to pull her down onto the mattress, setting his own lips at the side of her neck, dragging teeth and tongue over her sweet, smooth skin. "Mm, I've been threatened with worse…"

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean laughed softly, the sound hushed and warm against his ear as she let him pull her down with that impossible strength of his. His lips sent shivers racing down her spine, the scrape of his teeth against her skin making her fingers tighten where they rested against his shoulders.

“Threatened?” she echoed, her voice a breathy tease as she tilted her head just enough to give him better access. “Logan, if you think this is a threat, you really haven’t been paying attention.”

Her nails dragged lightly down his back, just enough to make sure he felt her, just enough to remind him she wasn’t fragile, wasn’t breakable, wasn’t something to be handled with too much care. Not with him.

She shifted beneath him, just enough to steal another kiss, slow but searing, lingering with the promise of everything still to come. When she finally pulled back, just enough to look at him, her lips curled into something wicked.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” she murmured, fingers tracing along his jaw, memorizing every line, every inch of the man who had waited too long for something neither of them was going to deny anymore. “And I don’t think you want to.”

[morinotsume]

Oh, to hear her laugh at a time like this -- to hear joy in that voice he'd heard in his dreams so many times, in the voice he'd tried so hard to block out because in spite of thick wood paneling and plush carpets this old house had a tendency for sound leakage… It was all for him now, and he was going to get addicted, he knew it. Not that she seemed to mind, in fact it seemed Jean had just as much lost time to make up for as he did, as much hunger to make up for past mistakes.

As she sat up Logan's hands drifted gently down to her thighs, thumbs rubbing just at their creases, his touch all gentle reverence. He often wondered why some scars had stayed, and other wounds had vanished without so much as a discoloration to show they'd been there. Why some puckered old bullet holes remained while there was no evidence of the surgical butchery that had given him his adamantium skeleton… a fleeting thought that drifted through his mind as her fingers traced his chest, as he drank in the sight of her seated astride him. She was beautiful like this; for a moment he felt that old burning envy of one Scott Summers come boiling to the surface, only to be quenched as she leaned back down to kiss him.

"Maybe I don't," he replied, his voice still low, almost a rumble against her soft lips. "Pretty sure you don't, either." A hand came up to the nape of her neck, holding her close, drawing her into a deeper kiss -- drawing from a wellspring of passion within that was finally breaking its bounds.

No, there wouldn't be one night. Couldn't. Not when she was smiling at him like that.

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean melted into him, into that deep, earth-shaking kiss that left no room for doubt, no room for hesitation. His grip at the nape of her neck was firm, grounding, like he was afraid she might slip away—but she had no intention of going anywhere. Not anymore.

A slow smile curled against his lips before she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes dark with something far more dangerous than desire—certainty.

“You’re right,” she whispered, fingers threading into his thick hair, her nails grazing lightly over his scalp. “I don’t.”

She didn’t want just one night. Didn’t want stolen moments or fleeting touches. Didn’t want to keep pretending this was something she could walk away from unscathed.

Her lips brushed over his jaw, his throat, tasting the heat of his skin. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me,” she murmured against him, her voice laced with something teasing, something light—because God knew they’d both carried too much darkness for too long.

And for once, Jean Grey wasn’t afraid of the fire.

She was ready to burn. And burn she did, for Logan.

[morinotsume]

After so long denied, Logan almost laughed at how impatient, Jean was -- he assumed that given this opportunity, given the freedom, that he, the oft-joked wild animal, would be the aggressor in this kind of situation. Then again, they didn't call them fiery redheads for nothing, and boy, fiery was an apt term for Jean Grey. Shifting, rolling, he put his back into the mattress, pulling the woman over on top of himself, which freed his hands up to move… and move they did, slipping down her sides, finding the hem of her top to tug it upward, peel it away to bare soft skin pale in the dappled sunlight filtering through her curtains. His lips chased hers, nipping lightly, drawing her down deeper -- giving voice to soft, possessive grumbles as he gave himself over and let go of his fears.

She wasn't going anywhere. She was his… if not forever, at least for the foreseeable future. Even if for one night…

It'd be enough. God help him, he hoped it'd be enough.

His roving hands seemed to need to find every scrap of surface area they could -- softer than one would expect, his healing precluded the formation of callouses despite the heavy fighting and work the man did. Committing every dip and curve to tactile memory, drinking it all in like a man deprived.

[phoenixbcrn]

Jean exhaled a breathless laugh against his lips, the sound hushed, almost disbelieving. How long had she denied herself this? Denied him? Too long. Far too long. But she wasn’t thinking about that now—wouldn’t let herself.

She met his hunger with her own, rolling her hips against his, reveling in the way it drew a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. Strong hands—God, she’d imagined them before, but even her wildest thoughts hadn’t done them justice—moved over her with purpose, and it sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

Jean sat up slightly, straddling him, her fingertips tracing over his chest, over the scars that hadn’t fully faded despite his healing. Proof of battles hard-won, of pain endured, of a man who had fought for everything—except, maybe, for this.

For her.

But there was no need for battles here. No need for hesitation.

She leaned down, lips ghosting over his jaw, his throat, feeling the way his breath hitched at her touch. “You keep touching me like that, Logan,” she murmured, voice thick with heat, “and I might start thinking you don’t just want one night.”

It was a challenge. A promise. Maybe even a warning.

Because she wasn’t sure she could stop at just one either.