Scotty Doesn't Know ((UnHolyPimpHand & BernadetteRochelle))

[UnHolyPimpHand]

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Logan wasn’t typically known as the emotional type, but he couldn’t help from being at least a little shocked. His mouth was hanging open, in fact. They had only just subdued the Juggernaut and now he was pulling this… right now? It was unconscionable.

Wolverine was pulled from his thoughts by Juggernaut stirring under him. He pressed harder against the big guy’s throat with his adamantium claws.

“Jean, I’ve lived most of my life believing there was something wrong with me—that I was broken somehow, tainted. When I met you, I felt for the first time like I belonged. You inspired me to become the leader that I have. You make me want to be a better man,” from a compartment in his over-the-shoulder utility strap, Scott extracted a diamond ring and got down on one knee, “will you make me the happiest man or mutant in this or any other universe, by becoming my wife? Will you become Mrs. Scott Summers?”

“Perhaps we could discuss this at another time,” the radio crackled as Beast weighed in from the cockpit of the X-Jet, “we need to get Juggernaut out of here before we lose containment.”

“I agree,” Storm weighed in from a thousand or so feet above them, riding the front edge of a storm front.

Though it was never spoken of among the team, it was something of an open secret that Wolverine had feelings of his own for Jean. What was a decidedly closed secret was that Logan and Jean had acted on what were actually mutual feelings between them since she and Scott had been an item.

Scott’s proposal of marriage was hardly the foregone conclusion that he apparently thought it was, but Logan suspected that the abruptness of the proposal and the decision to do it on a job, with the whole team around was a strategic decision. No room for her to engage a longer conversation, forcing a binary decision in the moment—accept or reject. Anything other than acceptance was a refusal.

There were still people buried in the rubble.

Rogue and Wolverine finished latching the adamantium restraints around Juggernaut’s arms, legs and shoulders. The both of them were scarcely able to drag the massive human back to the plane.

“We gotta go,” Logan said at last, gruff and authoritative. Unlike Beast and Storm’s objections, everyone turned when Wolverine spoke.

Scott remained on his knees, his linear, red eye still on Jean’s face—unwilling to move until she answered him.

 

[BernadetteRochelle]

Jean Gray sighed to herself. The battle with Juggernaut all but over and she had done next to nothing. The dossier she had read on the evil mutant had said that his helmet negated not only her telepathic abilities but her telekinetic ones as well. Why had she been sent along on this mission is she would be useless?



Jean had always prided herself on exceeding expectations, she had been raised to be the perfect overachiever, the perfect peace-maker, the perfect intelligent, diligent, kind, fit, care-giving young woman. She was counselor, sister, friend, maid, nurse, mother to her teammates, mutants like herself that she considered her family. She was also frequently filled the role of secret crush and not-so-secret fantasy for some of them as well.



Jean placed her fingers on her temples as she sat next to Hank McCoy at the controls of the X-men’s jet.. Jean knew that the brilliant, blue, scientist code-named Beast thought her very attractive. In a well-practiced move, Jean placed her fingers on her temples as a polite sign that she was using her mental powers.



(Are we almost done here, Storm?) Ororo Monroe,, a.k.a. Storm had been flying aside the Blakbird Jet, her long white hair buffeted by winds both natural and of her own crafting. “I believe that Rogue and Wolverine are just wrapping things up. Thank the Goddess no one was injured.” Storm spoke unnecessarily despite the telepathic link Jean had formed between the two women.



Jean cast her eyes down to ground level where the Southern Spitfire, Rogue was apprehending their foe. Similarly to Beasts harmless admiration for her, Jean had to acknowledge that Rogue was extremely sexy. The short, hairy, foul-mouthed man next to her however, rippled with raw sexual magnetism in Jean’s eyes. Wolverine, real name Logan, just Logan was extremely attractive to women. He had a rough, Sigma-Male veneer enshrouding a deep, poet-warrior’s soul. Jean Gray, however, did not give a fig about any of that. Though she found him shallow, crude, and more than a bit vein, his extreme endurance and feral blood-lust made him the perfect fuck. And fuck they had. Not all that many times but each encounter had lasted hours. Despite her trysts with Wolverine, Jean was in a long-term relationship with her boyfriend, the de facto leader of the X-men, Scott Summers, a.k.a. Cyclops.



For the first time since he had left the jet, Jean layed eyes on Scott. This was a man she could respect. Brave, upright, moral, the personification of the “boy-scout” trope, and almost Jean’s intellectual equal.

A brief static shriek irritated Jean’s ears as someone engaged the team’s personal intercom system. “...“will you make me the happiest man or mutant in this or any other universe, by becoming my wife? Will you become Mrs. Scott Summers?” Cyclops voice simultaneously addressed the victorious X-men.



“Not NOW!” Though Jean beginning to panic. Yes, she liked Scott very, very much. Yes, she had to admit to herself she had imagined creating a life and a family with him one day, but…. Jean felt her cheeks fluch red, not with joy or even surprise but with anger. Did Cyclops realize how incredibly manipulate he was being by turning his proposal into a public spectacle immediately after the heat of battle. She knew that everyone was awaiting her response. She knew what she should say, she knew the “right” thing to say, she knew what she was expected to say. “I do, Scoot, I do.” Jean replied in words as sweetly as serenely as she could manage. But telepathically to Logan she said something very different. (The SECOND we get back to the mansion, we need to talk!)

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

There slipped an audible growl past Logan’s upturned lip when Jean reluctantly assented to Scott’s absolutely ludicrous proposal. Knowing, from experience, that she was likely to form a telepathic connection, Logan conjured memories of some of the most explicit and graphic moments from their most recent tryst. He was behind her, tugging hard on her scarlet ponytail as his thick cock slammed inside her over and over.

Sure enough, Jean’s consciousness waded right into the scene that he’d set for her.

The SECOND we get back to the mansion, we need to talk!

Logan smirked as he secured the last of Juggernaut’s restraints, letting the X-Jet pull him up into the ship’s brig, locking tight.

You bet your sweet, round ass we do—Mrs. Summers

Even through telepathic communication, his sarcasm was obvious. At the mention of her ass, he conjured a memory of spanking her round ass red, the way it jiggled, a view of her from behind she could never see herself. When he got to the end of the memory, he remembered it again from the beginning.

It was true that Logan didn’t like Scott. For teammates, they resented one another, frankly—Scott’s relationship with Jean was just one facet of the gem of seething hatred that was their tense relationship. Logan barely felt like a member of the team and he’d sooner die than answer to Scott.

Logan respected Professor Xavier, if for no other reason than the grace he’d shown to Rogue, who needed grace when Logan had met her. Now, Rogue was a hero—through and through. A young woman with purpose, drive and talent. Logan had long suspected that Rogue had feelings for him, but he was only interested in Jean and Logan had never been one for settling, least of all when his primary desire was frustrated.

The affair was a decent work-around.

Logan got to regularly fuck the woman of his dreams while still feeling superior to his hated rival—but a marriage complicated things. It was no small task to keep secrets in a compound populated by mutants. The professor could plumb the depths of their darkest secrets on a whim—it seemed to Logan that only good manners stopped him from knowing any and everything there was to know about them. Still… it was exciting to share a secret. Especially one like this.

Logan fantasized about fucking Jean’s brains out while she was wearing a clingy wedding dress as he rode the zipline upward back into the jet—just in case she was still lurking inside his head.

While Logan was fantasizing, Rogue was watching him. Trying to decide what Scott’s proposal might mean for her romantic hopes. Without the gift of telepathy, Logan didn’t even notice her.

His boots touched down on the steel deck of the jet, just moments before Rogue landed with more finesse.

Though Logan didn’t notice, occupied as he was with imagining filthy fantasies in the hopes that Jean might be watching, the silence in the jet was heavy and tense. Those not gifted with telepathic powers couldn’t help but notice that no one was saying anything and the smug grin on Logan’s face was… out of place, to say the least.

Scott, determined not to let his rival’s inexplicable smugness ruin his big moment, urged his new fiancée into his lap as the engines whined, moving higher. Scott, usually a stickler for formations and seat belt regulations, figured himself something of a scofflaw in this moment. A regular, superhuman James Dean.

He kissed her neck the whole way home, while Logan played XXX memories and fantasies for her through their connection.

*-*-*

“…And we’re clear,” Hank said at last, the docking procedures at an end.

It seemed to take longer than ever for the jet to securely dock, the team mired in an extremely awkward silence and Scott making a scene of his public displays of affection.

In the forest. I’ll be waiting.

Logan sent the thought out, confident that Jean was still listening. He included the memory of the time they had fucked up against a tree, just out of sight of the basketball court which disguised the jet hanger where they had landed.

“Congrats, Summers,” Logan muttered, before parking a thick cigar between his teeth.

Despite the tone and obvious undertones, the fact that Logan was the only one to congratulate Scott said volumes about how awkward the proposal was for the rest of the team. Logan lit his cigar, still inside the hanger.

It was a handy excuse to fade off into the forest. He only hoped that it would be that easy for Jean to get away.

“Do you think the Professor would officiate?” Scott asked Jean, his smile so uncomplicated that it seemed almost delirious, “we should tell him, right away.”

“I guess I’ll secure the prisoner,” Hank sighed, unbuckling his straps impatiently, eager to be anywhere but where he was presently.

“I’ll help!” Storm volunteered quickly, also ready to be elsewhere than the inside of the jet.

Nightcrawler vanished without a word, in a plume of smoke.

“What do you say, babe?” Scott continued smiling like an idiot, “do you want to tell the professor together?”