Author: Meesh
Disclaimer: not mines.
Summary: Jean knows what she wants...
Pairing: J/S, J/L, J/R
Laying in Scott's broad arms, Jean can't help but to think that she belongs somewhere else. Somewhere not so stiff and sturdy. And on some occasions, Scott will pick up on the fact that his girlfriend would rather be somewhere else. Always assuming that Jean would rather be with Logan. Half of the time he's right. Jean is a creature of habit, because within habit is safety. Scott is also a creature of habit. He will work with the organized time mold the couple have created for themselves down to the bone. But unlike Scott, Jean is always ready to break her habits, that is, whenever she feels like she just has to.
Half of the time, Jean needs a little bit of danger...A little bit of Logan. Because Logan is a whole different creature. His own breed. He injects this sense of insuperability into her blood, all raw and tattered to pieces. Logan is rough and loud and hardened over and sometimes Jean needs that. She needs his sporadic way of living, his cutting edge mentality. She needs him like a drug. Sharp teeth against her skin and a grating churn in the pit of her stomach. She loves him like a drug.
There's sweat and blood and screams and a wakening feeling that kicks in the back of her head. Rough and calloused, grinding against each other. A scraping through her heart. It's all very manly. Starting with the sweet coos and coy remarks until it tumbles down into a blur of profanity and startlingly bright pain. Jean likes the fact that being with Logan is corrupting and dirty and wrong.
The other half of the time, she needs something far more deadly. Far more dangerous. And completely unlike what she's used to having. Sometimes Jean happens to get the craving of soft supple flesh that sears her through. It's all so innocent yet so cruel. Scattered quick kisses along her jawline as the fire spreads from head to toe. Jean dives into this mass of lean limbs and subtle curves and swollen sweet lips. But only for moments at a time. It's the ultimate for her. It's beauty, yearning, yielding, and little bits of death along the way.
Jean clutches to Rogue's dark eyes, shy smile, and tiny whispers. The younger girl holds Jean captive in a web of mystery. Rogue is a deep sea of everything and she has blurred where simply feeling ends and actually being begins. It's dark and intoxicating around her, smokey and dizzying. Kissing is like holding your breath with Rogue. You can't help but to make it last until the very end. And Jean needs this. She needs this desparity. Sometimes Jean will touch Rogue's face, arms, stomach, all so briefly. She'll hold Rogue for as long as she possibly can. She'll move up against Rogue and tell her that she loves her.
And everytime, touch, and word, Jean dies a little inside. She breaks down, slowly disintergrating, because she's finding herself saying those three little words so often. To Scott. To Logan. To Rogue. Jean grasps how much she really needs them. How she loves them all. And saying it to Rogue is heartbreaking because she knows...she knows Rogue doesn't.
a/n: ...redone...sorta.