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Old 08-01-2012, 02:38 AM   #1
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Kicking And Screaming (Closed for ChoklateKoneko)

Mia Starr. The girl of Marcus Delune's dreams. She was pretty, popular, and from all that he could tell, she was a minx in the sack. He'd had eyes for her since junior year of high school, and once they both ended up at the same community college, he'd hoped to make his move. Instead he ended up in the 'friend zone.' Sure she talked to him, hung out with him, even went on semi-dates with him. Those things would be fine if she wasn't such a wicked tease. She was always wearing provocative outfits, making subtly dirty comments, and on more than one occasion had gotten him so worked up that he'd almost exploded in his jeans. In public.

At first, Marcus tolerated this type of behavior. It was just Mia being the flirty girl he'd known her to be. But eventually it began to take its toll. He became angry, tortured by the memories of all the times he'd wanted to tell her how he felt, fighting with the lustful urges she was so good at bringing out of him. It was near their third year in college when he decided he'd had enough. If she thought it was ok to continue using him as a training post for her seduction skills, she had another thing coming.

--------------------

The day started as it usually did, with Marcus burning through his morning workout and catching a quick shower before classes. His degree in Business Management took a lot of focus, something he'd always had in excess. The courses came easy to him, the grades were just icing on the cake. That fact made it easier for him to goof off in his classes, scrolling through Facebook or some other website on his phone while pretending to pay attention.

A sudden buzz startled him; a new text, from Mia.

Hey! Hope you're not busy later, I wanna come hang out. Maybe we can watch a movie or something?

Typical Mia. Making plans without checking first. But she was cute, so she generally got away with it. Marcus typed a quick reply before the professor gave any notice to his distraction.

Yeah, sure. Sounds good. My place, right? What time?

They agreed on 8:30, which gave Mia enough time to leave and hit the bar if she felt like it. She did that often enough, but Marcus almost preferred it to when she crashed at his place, snuggling up next to him and making sounds in her sleep that he could swear she was doing on purpose. He never mentioned it, but every time she stayed he was plagued with thoughts of terribly inappropriate things he wanted to do to her. She always had another guy interest, or she wasn't looking for a relationship. Always something.

As the class let out, he walked to his next, phone still firmly planted in front of his face. He managed not to knock anyone over, but only by a small margin. Now his mind was not only distracted by the latest goings-on of his friends, but the impending torment that accompanied spending time with Mia. He laughed to himself thinking what a glutton for punishment he must be. That thought only triggered other, darker thoughts. He blinked and tried to pay attention to the lecture. Just to get his mind off things.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 08-13-2012, 11:54 PM   #2
choklatekoneko
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Mia Starr.

Yeah, sure. Sounds good. My place, right? What time.

As soon as she saw Marcus' reply, she smirked and gave a small giggle in the middle of her English Literature Class, which caused the blonded head girl in the seat in front of her to turn disgusted. Mia simply rolled her eyes, narrowing her eyes as she replied to his text message for 8:30 pm-her usual time.

Marcus Delune was Mia's best friend. She had known his since high school, but being in two different cliques made them distant. Money trouble landed her at Landers, the community college in town, and he followed. Of course...she wasn't looking for a boyfriend. Maybe it was a little wrong. But he was a good friend, and she didn't want to jeopardize that. She had her reasons.

She teased. She couldn't help it. She knew Marcus wanted her, and she was pretty sure everyone else did too.

She had her reasons.

She spent the rest of class daydreaming, and soon it was dismissed. She quickly grabbed her bag, ignoring the guy behind her that was trying to get her number and quickly walked into the courtyard, biting her lip as smoothed her black ruffled skirt down. She was ready for the day to be over with. She decided to study outside, and licked her lips again as she picked her phone once again, her fingers typing quickly.

Get something to drink for tonight, okay?
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Old 08-14-2012, 02:20 AM   #3
fr33ks33k
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On his way to the last class of his day, he got another text from Mia.

Get something to drink for tonight, okay?

So maybe she wasn't going to the bar. But that only meant...wait. Was she planning on getting drunk at his house? Oh man...as if the temptation wasn't bad enough when she was sober. He'd had one hell of a night when she came tripping to his house, drunk from the bar and feeling frisky. Every time he would think that he was about to get lucky, even to get a feel of the luscious body she kept barely hidden under her clothes, she'd turn or giggle or something. Always something.

He knew it was a bad idea, but he went with it anyway.

Yeah, sure. You like rum, right?

He knew she did. He had smelled it on her breath many a night. But it didn't hurt to make sure her tastes hadn't changed. Lord knew they did with guys all the time. Now his day was completely messed up. Class was not even on his mind. The bell that let him out for the day was barely done before he was out the door, heading to the liquor store to grab a bottle and make sure his house wasn't a total pig sty before Mia came over.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 09-03-2012, 03:51 PM   #4
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She waited for his reply.She wondered what he what he would say. She knew every time she stayed over, she teased his ass like there was no tomorrow. She couldn't help it! It was fun as hell to hear his groans, his sounds of frustration. It even turned her on a little bit.

Yeah, sure. You like rum, right?

She smiled softly, licking her full, plush lips. He knew her well...a little too well. She had never had rum around him, so she was curious as to how he knew that. How ever, she shrugged it off, and sighed heavily as she typed a reply.

Mhmm. Yes please.


She smirked a bit as she shut her phone, getting ready to go to her last class today, her mind already swirling on a outfit she would wear for tonight.
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Old 09-04-2012, 12:38 AM   #5
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It was 8 o'clock. Marcus had cleaned his room and the living room, bought Mia's rum and picked out a few movies he figured she'd like. He was clean-shaven, with the edges of his goatee trimmed straight and clean. He checked himself in his bathroom mirror several times, waiting for Mia to come over. He knew it was way too early for her to arrive, but it was always better to be prepared than not.

He went to the living room and sat on the couch, kicking his feet up. The TV slowly burned to life, the random show on MTV blaring at first. He rolled his eyes and switched over to ESPN, eyes flicking down to the time on the cable box every few minutes.

By 8:25 he was getting antsy. He flipped to their previous text conversation and sent a new one:

Hey, you're still coming over right?
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 09-04-2012, 01:47 AM   #6
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As soon as her last class ended, she went to her dorm room.

She had a LOT of preparing to do. Even though Marcus was her best friend, she didn't like to look any way in front of a guy.

She took a long, much needed shower. She washed with her peach body wash this time, taking her time to shave every inch her body. She dried off afterwards, rubbing in her peach cream, spraying on her perfume, and all that good stuff.

It took her a while to figure out what to wear. She never knew if they were going out, or staying in. It wasn't odd for her to stay the night either. She was just happy it was the weekend.

She packed her overnight bag- a pair of jammies, and two outfits, just in case. She packed a going out outfit, and then slid into a pair of short, denim shorts, and a off the shoulder top. She smiled a bit. It was cute, without being over the top. She slipped on a pair of her black heels and put a bit of make up on, before heading out the door. She got his text message as she was around the corner.

Hey, you're still coming over right?

She giggled as she rolled her eyes.

Of course. I never forgot. Open the door for me.
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Old 09-04-2012, 02:42 AM   #7
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He got her text and stood up quickly, going to the door. As he opened it, his jaw almost dropped open. Not what he'd expected for a movie night, but he was not about to complain. She smelled of peaches and cream and he smiled as he hugged her.

He stepped back to let her in, mostly because if he kept hugging her and smelling the sweetness of her perfume, he was likely to get hard. Not that she hadn't already felt him before, but it might make the night start awkwardly. He went back to the couch, propping his feet up again and grabbing the remote.

"The rum is in the freezer, but it's not completely cold yet. I figured you'd want it later anyway."

His eyes finally fell on the overnight bag she'd brought with her. Guess she was staying for the weekend. Marcus' mind went back to the many times she'd crashed there, sleeping next to him in her short pajama bottoms. There were a few instances that he thought of grabbing her ass, or maybe trying something more bold...but again the gentleman in him kept those things at bay.

Maybe he'd have some rum tonight too...let that loosen him up, just see where things would go...he flipped the channel to something other than sports, waiting for her to get settled in.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 09-05-2012, 03:34 AM   #8
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She absolutely adored the reaction on his face. It was partially the reason why she wore the outfit. She hugged him tightly, smelling his cologne, licking her lips in approval as she felt his body against her own curvy one.

She walked in slowly, glancing around his small,but comfy space.

He had cleaned up.

She smiled big, her pearly white teeth showing. She walked into his bedroom, setting her overnight bag, and purse down on the hardwood floor, before walking back into the room, just as he mentioned the rum. She nodded softly, plopping down on the couch next to him, smiling.

"Good. I'll get it later, I want to be sober for the time being." She said, giggling. She scooted closer, tilting her head. "Soo, what movies are we watching?"
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Old 09-05-2012, 11:33 AM   #9
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With her right next to him the sweet scent of her perfume was unavoidable. She settled in, body nestled against his, asking in that soft permanently flirty voice of hers what movie options they had.

Marcus looked over to her, making very sure to keep his arm on the back of the couch, though he would have liked to drape it around her shoulders. Best to remain the gentleman for now.

"Well, I grabbed one of those Resident Evil movies and some romantic comedy with Jennifer Hudson in it."

He figured that the scary flick would give him a chance to hold her without coming off as a pervert. The rom-com was just in case she wasn't feeling a sci-fi horror movie.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 09-23-2012, 08:27 PM   #10
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Gosh..he smelled good.

She bit her lip softly as she got closer, loving how he smelled. It was his signature scent. And she couldn't get enough of it.

She liked having a friend. A strong, confident..cute...friend. He wanted her...yeah...but..it was for the best.

"Well, I grabbed one of those Resident Evil movies and some romantic comedy with Jennifer Hudson in it."

She smiled happily, glancing at the movies. She pointed to the Resident Evil one. "Yeah..that one most definitely."

She like scary movies...plus..it gave her a chance to cuddle up to him.
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Old 09-24-2012, 01:41 PM   #11
fr33ks33k
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He was only half-surprised that she chose the horror movie. He was completely alright with the choice, though. He slipped off the couch to put the movie in, hitting the lights and grabbing the remote to hit play. As he settled back in on the couch, he put his arm back up on the back of the couch. The opening credits rolled and he finally decided to just go for it, sliding his arm down and around her shoulders. If she was going to get comfortable, he might as well too.

The first twenty minutes were boring, but then the real gory stuff started happening. Even he had to jump a few times at the things happening on the screen. Definitely the kind of thing that would have her hiding her face in his chest. He smiled at the thought of that, letting himself sink into the situation.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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Old 10-20-2012, 03:23 PM   #12
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She saw him stand up, and glanced over his body when he wasn't looking. He did have a nice, toned body, and she wasn't complaining one bit. She bit her lip to prevent...certain... thoughts- from getting to head, before standing up, kicking off the chunky black heels, digging her french manicured toes in the soft plush carpet before plopping back down on the couch, just as the lights went off and the dim lighting of the screen came into play. She felt his arm and bit her lip to hold back a smirk. She didn't mind,and knew he was going to sooner or later. Or...at least try. She sighed contently, resting her head on his shoulders. The movie started out alright. As the movie rolled on though, she couldn't help but cover her eyes, her head going into his chest to some of the gory happenings that were on the screen. She whimpered a bit, jumping at something particularly gross.

Around 3/4 of the way through the movie, things were partially calm, and she swallowed softly, sliding away from his body to go get the rum. She stood up, stretching, lifting her arms up. Along with her arms, her shirt raised, revealing the bud on a belly button ring, that glittered in the light. She smiled at him softly, before brushing past as she walked to the kitchen. She stood on her tippytoes to get the rum from the freezer, and sat it down on the counter. She was only 5'2" and had to reach to get the glasses too. She poured slowly, filling them both about half way before she set the bottle down, taking a small sip from her glass and smiling as the liquid slid down her throat. She grabbed both glasses and slowly walked back to the living room.

"I poured you a glass. I didn't know if you wanted some."

She smiled sweetly at him, setting both glasses on the coffee table before settling back down next to him.

"What I miss?"
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Last edited by choklatekoneko : 10-20-2012 at 03:35 PM.
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Old 10-22-2012, 02:07 PM   #13
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The whole time she was up, he wasn't watching the movie. He was watching the way her body stretched and arched while she reached up to grab the liquor and the accompanying glasses. The way her shirt rode up every time, giving him a glimpse of her skin and that glint that always seemed to hit her belly ring. He tried to cover up his staring as she turned back, carrying a glass for both of them.

"Thanks. Yeah, I'll drink with you."

When she settled back in, his arm went around her again instinctively. At this point, he knew she was ok with it, but he still wasn't sure how far he could get away with contact. Only time would tell.

The movie was very close to over when he reached forward and took his glass in hand, drinking half of it down in one swallow. He blinked a few times. It had been a while since he'd had straight rum. Now he remembered why he usually mixed it with Coke. He kept shooting glances over to Mia, just to see if she was still focusing on the movie and to check her out. No matter how many times he saw her, he still felt the need to devour her with his eyes. He took another sip of his drink and readjusted on the couch, the hand around her resting on her arm.
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La vie n'est qu'une ombre dans l'obscurité la plus profonde

Something's gotta give...and if it's not my spine it will surely be my spirit. I only pray the splinters will shatter in such a way that every passerby takes a second to revel in my wreckage....

In the space between the sands of time and making sense he scribbles thoughts half-made and half-mad. He has written all his mind away and been left half-alive and mostly dead. His spark is the maker's forge, burning bright and hot. His soul is the flame that guides lost travelers on their wayward paths. In his thoughts he is whole, he is home, he is free. If only this poor poet's mental world were true reality...

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