Nobody's Idea Box

[johnnynobody]

Don't mind me. I'm just throwing stuff around in case I might need it. *lolz*

IDEAS!
After: The First of Newer Tales
I Looked At You (reserved)
Break On Through
Soul Kitchen


DEAD RPS! T~T (I'm sorry. Life gets in the way, sometimes.)
Back Door Man (with Ambrosia_64)
Moon Over Alabama (with Mayu)
Wife For Hire (with EklectikChik)

 

[johnnynobody]

Calendar System of the Empire, (Years Imperial)

Upon consolidation of their power the Forces Imperial saw the need to create a universal calendar system in order to more effectively manage its resources.

Given that the most consistent methods of measuring the passage of time always proffered 12 divisions, so did the newly created Imperial Office of the Hours design a timekeeping system that revolved around the said number.

Each day was deigned to possess a twin cycle of 12 hours for the daytime and the night, while each year was divided into 12 Moons. These were based upon the constellation which dominated the northernmost point of the sky for the period between the moon's waxing and waning. The succession went as follows: Lich, Fae, Dragon, Phantom, Gryphon, Daemon, Dryad, Ettin, Mer, Kraken, Druid, Stirge. The system proved popular enough and growth of its use increased exponentially.

An unforseen effect of the system employed was the growth of the belief that people's personalities were somehow influenced by the House of the Moon they were born in. While the Empire advocates no such faith, for the purposes of information and records we note down the supposed traits for each House:

• Lichkin - Tenacious and challenge-driven intellectuals, who unfortunately possess a tendency to ignore everything else save their own pursuits --even to their own detriment.
• Faekin - Born diplomats with a penchant for prevarication.
• Dragonkin - Strong, powerful personalities whose greatest flaw is arrogance.
• Phantomkin - People whose gentle, quiet ways may sometimes belie terrible tempers.
• Gryphonkin - Energetic idealists whose greatest fault lies in the oft-misleading idea that they are invincible.
• Daemonkin - Are more attuned to the "hidden currents" of life, but are also apt to misbehave.
• Dryaden - Nurturing and playful, dryaden have the tendency to lose sight of the bigger picture when their attentions have been focused on something.
• Ettenna - Loyal and scrutinizing, ettenna are prone to boredom and ill tempers.
• Merkin - Adaptable folk, sometimes to a fault. But the instances when their depths are called upon, they are as powerful as a crashing tide.
• Krakenna - Fickle hedonists and sensualists. However, when their attention is focused on something, they never let go.
• Druiden - Quiet intellectuals who have an amazing capacity to learn. However, they do have a tendency to overthink.
• Stirgen - Nearly as hedonistic as krakenna, skirgen can be too greedy for their own good.

 

[johnnynobody]

‎"Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are...
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. "

 

[johnnynobody]

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

 

[johnnynobody]

"Fuckin' A!" she screams, catching the gaze of passers-by as the world whizzes by while they sit in his Antilo-Capra. Her arms stretch out, her natty bolero catching the wind and flapping like the black, stunted wings of an aborted angel.

She found her as he cruised downtown, looking for a meal. Her blonde hair --looking days unwashed-- hid her eyes from his. Her smile was perfect, though. Right mix of the an old soldier's wary grit and a seductress' come-hither as she bent down to ask him. "Lookin' for some fun, honey?" she asks in a breath redolent of alcohol and the last gasps of the mint gum she tried to mask it with.

The whirlwind of their progress has blown the hair away from her place. For the first time he sees her eyes as she turns to him and says breathlessly, "God, I love guys with convertibles!"

His reply is all of a silent smile as he watches the streetlamps' lights in her irises, Perseids flashing fast in the twilight of her eyes.

A short glance is enough.

The ride is soon over. She laughs as the lift dings penthouse and pulls him into the pitch-black room by an arm. As the the doors close and they stand further inside, she begins to disrobe --jacket, little black dress, and bra follow each other to the floor. The panties and garters stay on.

She walks backward through the entire striptease, managing to pirouette away before a wayward ottoman could trip her. She allows herself to fall into the bed in a drunken, laughing heap.

He follows her to the bed, leans on top of her. His first kiss is gentle, testing. Becomes rougher as her hearbeats throb faster and her moans spur him on. One of his hands, steadied on her hip, tries to move further as if to wrap her in an embrace. She grips his wrist and stops it.

She pulls away from his lips, staring into his eyes as she leads his hand between her legs. She bites her lower lip as his fingertips find her wetness and linger there. Her hand urges his, and his hand begins to move. She gasps. Shudders. Lets his hand free as hers falls back to the bed, and she closes her eyes and enjoys for the briefest moment, reaching.

There is only the smallest twitch of a warning.

Silver catches the wayward glint of light and a thin thread of black blood as a thumb knife, and another and once more hiss in the darkness as she rolls off the bed in a crouch.

Two thud heavily into an antique armoire's side. The one that'd nicked his face is still in her hand.

He crouches for a heartbeat as well before he springs, slashing at her. She ducks. Passes under him in another roll. Three more thumb knives slice through the air even as she pulls another set from sheaths taped onto her back.

One catches him on the shoulder, another on the chest. The third cuts off a bit of his left earlobe. He scoffs at these wounds. "It's going to take a lot more than tiny knives to deal with me, hunter."

She uses her toes and a jerk of her leg to throw her discarded bolero up from the floor and allows herself a smirk as she draws a stiletto from one of its arms. "You were saying?"

He rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath about ill luck.

She jumps. She believes him off guard. Believes she has the advantage.

He smashes his fist against a nearby switch on the wall.

There is crash of glass and fritzing wires as she smashes her head on the flatscreen television that swings down from the ceiling. She lands awkwardly --her feet catch the bed as her upper body slams onto the floor, and for the briefest moment he wonders if it was hitting the telly that made her unconscious or hitting the floor.

He surveys the damage to the TV and it's mechanism --the ceiling mechanism was salvageable, the TV lost.

Turning to his guest, he makes sure she's still alive, then dabs his fingers at the small pool of blood that comes from a shallow cut on her head.

"Dinner from a deus ex machina," he says wistfully as he sucks at his bloodied digits. "Fuckin' A."

 

[johnnynobody]

Idea: Soul Kitchen

After a Tallus glitch separates her from the rest of the team, Exiles-era Psylocke comes across an alternate-world Tom Lennox (NOT the guy from 24! *laughs*) who, in this reality, is a STRIKE Psi-Division op stationed in Hong Kong.

The pair team up together, with Betsy rekindling old emotional ties, while on a mission to investigate the serial murders of mutant Hong Kong psions. It's then revealed that the mastermind is an out-of-control Tar, who is eliminating other candidates for the proctorship of the Crimson Dawn.

Not quite there yet... Too obscure, maybe..? With a proper partner, has potential.

 

[johnnynobody]

note to self: you are dusted after you go through the doors. *laughs*

 

[johnnynobody]

Every time I see the phrase, I always remind myself: "Closed, FOR..." not "Closed to..." (>.<)



Every time I start a thread, I forget. ()



*laughing hard*

 

[johnnynobody]

Second day of the new year, and I'm out of my comfort zone. *laughs*

 

[johnnynobody]

Still too tied up with work to ever think of starting an RP, but this scene wouldn't let go of my neurons. XD

Ian stood in the middle of the stage, trying to bite back a touch of nervousness with a plastered-on smile. Dressed sharply in a tailored tux he got years ago when his younger sister got married, he wished he was in his uniform instead. He preferred the streets more than being stuck here in the midst of a hundred rabid women.

“Three thousand dollars,” a middle-aged woman in a dress a size too small said.

The auction master, the police commissioner, repeated the bid. “Going once . . .”

Ian hated going to these annual charity auctions, but he was within the right age range and the staff thought him attractive enough to get bids. Ian was also a supporter of the Police Force Orphans’ Educational Fund. “Just tell yourself it’s for the kids,” Commissioner Reilly said with a laugh when the date of the Policemen’s Ball was announced. “Besides, what’s so scary about one lousy date?”

Truth was, Ian was scared of dates. Scared of women, in general. He wasn’t really that much of a socializer in high school and college. This despite women never really hiding the fact that he—with his dark, brown hair and soulful brown eyes—caught THEIR attention.

“Three thousand five hundred!” came a call back. Looking out, Ian noticed it was Lauren, one of the desk clerks. She waved her fingers at him, and he wondered if she was really interested in him or if she was just trying to drive the price up.

“We hear three thousand five hundred,” Martha Sanderson, co-chair of the fund, announced. She was Commissioner Reilly’s co-emcee tonight. “Anybody going over three thousand five hundred?” A pause. “Going once . . . Going twice . . .”

Three thousand five hundred wasn’t bad, Ian thought. The highest at the moment was Jenkins—Jimbo the gym-rat, the guys called him—at five thousand. Last year’s highest grosser, Billy Grayson, who’d taken in ten thousand last year, was yet to come on stage.

“Twenty five thousand,” a woman from the back of the crowd said in a strong clear voice.

Ian’s jaw almost dropped, and he shaded his eyes against the spotlight to try and see who had made the bid. People in the crowd tried looking at the bidder as well, but she’d managed to hide away before anyone saw her.

Over the hushed crowd, the commissioner stifled a laugh of pleasant surprise. “Well. Uh. This was unexpected,” he mumbled absentmindedly. Then, recovering, “We have twenty five thousand on the table. Any other bids? Going once . . . Twice . . . SOLD! To the lady at the back. Please claim your date from our detention cell-slash-torture chamber behind the stage…”

***** *** *****

“Whoo-boy . . . Twenty five, buckaroo!” Jenkins grinned as he elbowed Ian good-naturedly. “Makes you think they’re after more than just a date, huh?”

Ian smiled weakly. “Probably wants me to fix her car, too.” They laughed.

One of the detectives, Sam Colby, sat down beside them after passing around a bunch of filled wineglasses. “Didn’t know your mom had that much money stuffed away?” he deadpanned.

The door to the holding area —a small room, which was normally the school auditorium’s supplies storage— opened and Lauren stepped in. Hearing a bit of the conversation, she quipped, “Speaking of, Sam, your mom’s here to bail you out. Said she didn’t know she had to pay for you to finally take her to the ball.”

Sam flushed amid the hoots and laughter and shrugged, stepping out.

“And Ian, your date’s here too,” Lauren added. As Ian moved beside her, Lauren gave him a nudge. “She’s quite the looker. Doesn’t make me feel too bad I lost. You two make a good pair.”

***** *** *****

His date was faced away from him, talking to Mrs. Sanderson when Ian got out. Even from behind, she was stunning. Her blonde hair, done up in an elegant French twist, matched the strapless pale gold empire-cut gown she wore.

Ian coughed nervously as he approached.

Mrs. Sanderson noticed, and smiling, said, “Ian, dear, you never told me you had such an interesting friend.”

The woman finally turned to him with a playful grin and sparkling blue eyes. “Ian never was one for talking.”

Dumbfounded, Ian grinned back absentmindedly before stammering, “Zoe? But . . . you’re . . . You’re supposed to be halfway across the country . . . I don’t . . .”

Zoe laughed. “There are planes, you know. And trains. And cars.”

Mrs. Sanderson laughed as well. “It seems you kids have some catching up to do,” she said. “I’ll be moving on, then. It’s been a delight meeting you, Zoe,” she said as she shook Zoe’s hand. “Have a nice evening.”

While Mrs. Sanderson turned away to pair up more dates, Zoe pulled Ian to the middle of the auditorium. “We can catch up while we dance,” she said.

Ian was still in a bit of shock, staring at her. He finally managed a, “Hi,” that was more breathed out than said, eliciting another laugh from his childhood friend.

“Surprised obviously,” she wisecracked as they moved across the floor to the sounds of a waltz.

“Obviously,” Ian replied, recovering. “It’s been ages— ”

“Eleven years, two months, twenty-three days, to be precise.”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” she replied in a singsong tone Ian recalled Zoe used when she was teasing him. She gave him a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and giggled girlishly.

They danced for quite some time, both smiling while wordlessly looking at each other. Ian did it due to surprise. Zoe’s quiet was from amusement.

“Why are you here?” Ian finally asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you here . . . But after all this time, I thought you’d—”

Zoe shushed him with a finger to his lips, and drew away, a bit of her smile fading. “Come on,” she said, pulling him off to the side. “I need a drink.”

After they’d been through three glasses of wine, Zoe pulled him close. She whispered conspiratorially, “When they say you’re my date for the night, do they mean it’s just for the Policemen’s Ball? Or am I allowed the option to take this date wherever I want?”

***** *** *****

“Oh, my god! That is so good,” Zoe moaned enthusiastically.

Ian grunted in agreement.

It was hard to talk with your mouth stuffed with a chili dog.

It was a laughable sight—the two of them hunkered down on the sidewalk in their formal clothes, overloaded chilidogs in hand. They’d driven four blocks to just to beat the deadline at Al’s Hots, the diner they used to spend hours in after school back in the day.

“Cops always know the best places to eat,” she joked as she finished off her dog.

Ian found out that Zoe’d gotten a job in a private organization that promoted awareness and aided legal action against white slavery and child abuse. She worked closely with federal and police operatives on the East Coast. Her job was more or less pencil-pushing, but it was busy nonetheless and also made her feel that she was at least “working on the side of angels,” as she liked to put it. She had very few days off—she’d saved up this one, worth two weeks, for trip back to her hometown.

Zoe wiped her fingers clean on some paper towels, then looked wistfully at Ian who was doing the same. “Would it be melodramatic for me to say I missed you so damn much?”

Ian laughed, teased, “This after not hearing from you for . . . what was it? Eleven years, two months, twenty-three days?”

Her smile dimmed a bit at that. “Touché,” she replied, looking up into the starlit sky. She let out a deep sigh after a moment’s pause, then grabbed his hand as she stood up. “Come on, mistah copper. Take me home.”

***** *** *****

Zoe leaned back against the door to her hotel room. On the ride back, they talked about old friends and acquaintances, the places they used to frequent and whether they were still up, and how Ian’s life was as a cop in a small town in California. She’d brought down her hair somewhere along the trip, and now it framed her pretty face. Seeing her like that, Ian recalled how she used to drive him crazy in more ways than one.

He laughed at the idea.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, grinning.

“No. Nothing important,” he replied, smiling back. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “It was nice to meet you again, Zoe. I guess I’ll see you around.”

He’d made a half step back when Zoe caught Ian’s sleeve and pulled him to a stop. “You don’t have to go, you know,” she said as her smile dimmed with a bit of unease. She bit her lip, took his hand in hers and pulled Ian a step closer.

“I think I do,” Ian replied. “I’ve still got to— ”

This time she cut him off with a burning kiss full to the lips.

Caught unawares, Ian didn’t respond much at first, but the feel of Zoe’s soft, warm lips on his was a temptation he couldn’t bear to ignore. Ian began to kiss her back, his tongue tentatively brushing against hers as their lips opened in a mutual invitation to explore. Ian’s hands moved up involuntarily, clutching Zoe’s body tight against him even as hers went up around his neck. The layers of fabric between them suddenly seemed like a million miles too much. He wanted to be closer.

Recovering, Ian broke away and avoided looking into Zoe’s eyes. “Zoe,” Ian began. “I really don’t think— ”

“That’s the idea,” Zoe said, using one hand to turn his face towards hers. Her other hand unlocked the door. “Don’t think.”

Lust overrode caution. Ian gripped Zoe’s slim waist as he gave her the kiss this time, and stepped into her room in a torrid embrace. Once inside, he pushed her against the door, his mouth leaving her lips to trace a wet trail of kisses and soft bites along her neck and shoulder. Zoe groaned involuntarily at the new sensation, but Ian muffled it as his lips flew back against hers. His hands left her waist to undo the stays that held her gown up. It fell to the floor in a heap, shimmering in the stray moonlight that flitted in through the windows of her room.

Zoe hadn’t worn a bra, and she hissed when Ian took notice of that with his lips and his tongue. Breaking the kiss, he’d strayed down to her breast, taking a small mouthful of flesh and hungrily sucking on it before taking one nipple in his mouth. Her legs began to tremble as he expertly toyed with her. The rapid flicks of his tongue alternated with teasing bites and only the briefest moments when it was only the cold air and his warm breath against the now wet nub.

One of Ian’s hands moved away from Zoe’s hip. He let his fingertips trace lazy lines along her inner thigh and Zoe trembled in anticipation, knowing where they were going. She bit her lip as his forefinger swept against the wet crotch of her white silk panties and closed her eyes involuntarily as Ian cupped her sex. He gave it a gentle squeeze before his fingers dove under the moist cloth and entered her.

Ian thrust his fingertips into Zoe for only a few moments, only enough to tantalize her, before going down to his knees. At the same time, he’d pulled her panties down to her knees. He showered a handful of kisses and bites on her thighs before he moved in between her legs.

Ian took a moment to get a whiff of Zoe’s heady scent, the smell of her need. Raising one of her legs onto his shoulder, he dove in, his tongue hungrily tasting her juices.

“Fuck,” Zoe gasped raggedly as Ian’s tongue flicked at her pussy lips, then her clit. Her arms fell onto his shoulders as she attempted to steady herself against the barrage of stimulation. “Fuck!” Louder this time as Ian’s mouth latched on her clit, his tongue maddeningly taking turns rapidly teasing the sensitive button, then slowly lapping against it while a fingertip pushed inside her again and began to thrust in a steady, insistent rhythm.

“Ohhh. Ohhhh.” Zoe moaned as she began to feel familiar stirrings building up inside her. “Ian . . .”

Ian felt Zoe’s hips begin to move urgently against him. One of her hands gripped his shoulders almost painfully while the other ran through and grabbed a handful of his hair to hold his head steady. Ian doubled his efforts, sucking and tonguing Zoe’s clit as one finger, then another drove faster and deeper into her.

With a cry of release, Zoe’s body broke into shudders as Ian’s ministrations brought her to climax. Suddenly weak-kneed, she began to slip onto the floor, a sweaty, gasping mess. Ian caught Zoe in his arms and eased her down to her knees. There, with her head resting on his shoulders and his arms around her in an embrace, she stayed there in a momentary daze.

“Hey,” Ian said, attempting to say it in a teasing tone, but unable to hide the note of concern that showed through his voice. “You okay, kiddo?”

Zoe lifted her head and, with a gentle little laugh, said, “I feel amazing.”

In a sudden burst of motion, she moved up against Ian and locked lips with him again in a rough, open-mouthed kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, on his lips, and it spurred her even more. Zoe’s fingers gripped the collar of Ian’s shirt and began to rip at it, sending buttons flying even as the shirt came off with the suit jacket still around it.

Still in the kiss, Zoe pushed Ian down to the floor, mounting his hips as her hand flew down to undo his belt and fly. Pulling away, gasping, she took his stiff cock in her hands and began to stroke him in a firm but slow pace. “So hard,” Zoe whispered to Ian, fire burning in her eyes. She let go of it, letting it rest between the still moist folds of her sex, and began grind her hips up and down against him.

Ian’s eyes had screwed shut in bliss at the feel of Zoe moving against him, and he opened them the moment she’d moved away. About to look down, he groaned instead as he felt a new sensation—the warmth of Zoe’s breath on his shaft.

Taking Ian’s cock in her hand, Zoe began to stroke it again while she let the throbbing tip brush against her lips. Thinking she’d teased him long enough, she slowly ran her tongue along it, base to tip, then took the head of it in her mouth, sucking gently while her hand continued to move on it. She loved the taste of her own juices on his tongue—loved it even more here, where the secret places of their bodies had met and answered each other’s call. It drove her wilder, and moving her hand away, Zoe began to take Ian’s cock deeper and deeper into her mouth even as her tongue worked against the feverish flesh.

She began to bob her head up and down as she sucked on him in a rhythm, and she found herself enjoying the gasps this elicited from her old friend. There was a jolt of both excitement and apprehension as one of his hands ran through her hair, grabbing a handful of it. Zoe felt Ian’s hips lifting up from the floor, meeting her lips with every downstroke . . . His hand starting to hold her head firmly in place . . .

Zoe was surprised when Ian pulled her up and pushed her down onto the carpeted floor. He kissed her again, roughly, urgently while he moved on top of her. Between her legs now, she felt the tip of his cock, wet with her own spit, brush against her pussy lips. Eagerly, she wrapped her legs against his waist. He bit into her shoulder again—a bit harder this time—as he thrust into her all the way in with one hard stroke. Zoe cried out as Ian began to get into a slow, steady rhythm, letting her feel every inch of him entering her even as his eager lips ravaged her mouth, her neck, and her breasts. One of his hands cupped the cheek her ass, squeezed it roughly in the same tempo as the cock that drove into her again and again.

In a few heartbeats, the other hand wrapped around her waist. Pulled her up. Steadied her in another angle. When he sank in, faster, rougher, Zoe’s eyes shot open as Ian’s cock hit her hidden spot. Ian began to thrust into her in earnest now, grunting and panting, spurred by the myriad encouragements Zoe’s body betrayed. She bit her lip at the assault on her senses, her arms reflexively tightening around Ian’s frame. Failed to stay in control.

“Oh, god!” Zoe cried out in a half-choked scream. “Fuck . . . ! Fuck!” Her body convulsed in an explosion of bliss.

Ian kept thrusting, loving the feel of Zoe’s muscles straining against him. He paced down slowly, allowing her to ride out her orgasm. Sure that she was done, he pulled out and lay beside her on the carpet. Brushing away a lock of hair from her eyes, he looked at her, laughed softly, and said, “Hello.”

Zoe grinned, climbed on top of him, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Hello.” She playfully scratched Ian’s chest with her fingernails before giving him another open-mouthed kiss, then pulled away from him after a little nip at his lower lip. She stood up and stepped around him, laughing softly as she backed into what Ian figured was the bath.

After a few breathless moments, Ian stood up himself and tried to wrangle his clothes back to presentability. His mind was running as he did. What had just happened? Well, they had sex—that was obvious. But what did it mean? Was Zoe just out to have some fun only to disappear again for . . . what . . . another eleven years? She did say this was just a vacation. But . . . Damn! To have had a taste of this . . .

Taking a seat on a cushioned chair by the windows, Ian continued to mull over the situation. It wasn’t the sex, per se, but the intensity of connection between them that led to it. Ian thought it was gone—who wouldn’t, not having heard from her in ages? But the whole night reminded him that there was a time when his world had revolved around her. His mind was already entertaining the thought that it could again. It was also starting to fear that it might just fizzle out the way it did eleven years ago.

Ian’s reverie broke as Zoe’s fingers ran through his hair. She sat down on his lap, facing him, naked now save for a towel wrapped around her and the grin on her face. Her slightly damp hair was pale white in the moonlit room. “Penny for your thoughts?” she quipped for the second time that night.

“If I took you up on that every time you said it, I’d have been a millionaire by now,” Ian replied, joking.

Zoe laughed weakly at that, and she turned her face away from him as she stood. “If you took me up on it,” she said. Then, as she reached down to pick her clothes off the floor, she followed it up with a half-whispered “You never did.”

Ian was about to answer, feeling that Zoe was deliberately hinting at something, but she immediately threw her panties at him and said, “Then we’d probably be out there, cruising around on a yacht in the Bahamas instead, idiot.”

Tossing her clothes in the laundry bin was the only leadup to her jumping up onto his lap again, then whispering sultrily into his ear. “Take the rest of the week off, please? I need you with me.”

***** *** *****

The leave was easy enough to facilitate. Ian hadn’t taken a long leave since he got into the force, and there really wasn’t any pressing issues the department needed to deal with. The commissioner did give him a bit of a talking-to because Ian had disappeared from the ball, but winked and laughed with avuncular affection when he’d been informed of the reason. Ian actually gave no hint that he and Zoe had been intimate, but it seemed that everyone in the office was assuming it.

Zoe clapped happily and took Ian’s arm as he exited to precinct. “And you’re laughing,” she noted. Zoe was dressed warmly for the day in a matching black cable-knit turtleneck sweater and miniskirt that reached to her knees and calf-high boots. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and enjoyed the feeling of the early morning sun on her face.

“I’m the last guy to want to bring down the image of the police force, but those people in there sure are green-minded as heck,” Ian said with an exasperated shrug. Half-afraid his sudden request for a leave might be denied, he’d shown up in a pair of his office slacks, dress shoes and a collared shirt that was still suitable for work.

Zoe gave him a peck on the cheek. “Oh, let them think what they wanna,” she said, “They’ll be wrong anyway.”

At his raised eyebrow, she laughed and whispered with a grin. “They’ll be wrong ‘cause we’ll be doing nastier things.”

 

[johnnynobody]

Yeah. Pent-up impulses and all that. "I have been awakened and delighted by the push and pull of our acquaintance." Happy new year to anyone who reads.

After a lunch at one of the small restaurants that fronted the marina, Zoe asked Ian if they could walk along the shore for a bit. Although the wind was cool off the water, the sun was high in the sky. The beach was virtually empty save for the brave tourist or two who dared the boardwalk to catch a photo of the beach birds, but most of them went away as soon as they realized the birds themselves weren't doing anything worth watching due to the heat. With concern in his voice, Ian asked, "Are you sure? Both of us aren't really prepared for a noon walk."

Zoe bit her lip, a sweet smile playing across her lips. She took Ian's hand and tugged. "I don't mind. C'mon." She laughed as Ian rolled his eyes in mock annoyance before he let himself be dragged to where the beach sand touched the walk.

Before they stepped onto the sand, Zoe said wait. She rolled up her sleeves and put her hair up in a rough bun. (Even the messiness of it was pretty, Ian thought as he put his sleeves up as well.) She then started to try removing her boots by herself, precariously balancing on one leg.

"Let me help you with that," Ian said, getting down on one knee. Zoe said a little thank you as she leaned on his shoulders while he supported her lifted leg with one hand as he pried the shoe off with the other.

Ian was grinning when he first set to the task, then felt his heart skip a beat at the feel of Zoe's skin against the palm of his hand. All at once, he remembered the night before. Him in nearly the exact same position. The taste of Zoe's skin--of her--on his lips. Her moans and cries. The smile faded as amusement gave way to something more urgent, more demanding. He hurried with the other boot; saw her staring at him intently--he knew she was thinking of the same thing. He grinned nervously, avoided her eyes, and took off his own shoes and socks. When he was done, Ian offered the crook of his arm and said "Shall we?" with forced levity.

They walked silently on the sand for a while, each lost in thought and making only the barest of small talk. By the time they reached the shadowed stretch of sand beneath the pier, both of them were soaked with sweat. Zoe sat on a large rock and fanned herself with a hand. "I have to agree that was a terrible idea," she said, laughing.

Ian sat down beside her, playfully nudging her for a spot. "Your being headstrong was always a pain," he agreed with a smirk. He was just joking, so he was a bit surprised when Zoe responded with a tone that hinted of melancholy.

"I sorry. I don't mean it to be," she said, staring far away at the edge of the sea. "It's just ... I have this need to find things out on my own, you know? Do things because I want to and not because people expect me to do them." She sniffled; her eyes had begun to tear up.

Ian took Zoe's hand in his and held it in reassurance. "Hey, you don't have to apologize for that." He searched for her eyes, but she still focused on the tides. Her hand felt cold in his. "There are paths in life you'll never learn until you dare to walk them, eh?"

She smiled at that and, eyes never leaving the water, said, "I still remember the last time we were here."

He nodded. He remembered too. He wished he didn't. It was the last time they were together before Zoe went away. Ian felt a little guilty that he had never quite forgiven her for leaving without saying anything.

Zoe finally looked at him, still smiling. She understood the look on his face. "We remember different things," she whispered.

Taking the hand that held hers, Zoe brought it up to her lips, licking Ian's middle finger before slowly sucking it into her mouth. He groaned as he felt her warm tongue work against that digit, her mouth suck on it in a gentle, insistent rhythm. There was a soft pop as she pulled it out from her sucking lips and guided it down between her legs. On his own, Ian's caressed the sensitive skin of Zoe's inner thighs, moving slowly up inside her skirt.

Zoe shivered at the feeling. Her eyes blazing, on his, she whispered, "I remember hearing the people laughing on the boardwalk. I remember"--she gasped as Ian ran his fingertip along her now-dripping pussy lips; she didn't have any panties on--"being scared we might be seen." She moaned softly as the fingertip pushed in, shallowly, slowly, teasingly. "I remember"--she gripped his arm as the hand thrust harder, the finger probed deeper--"you moving against me in the dark."

Her mouth fell open as Ian pushed another finger inside her, began to pump against her wetness faster and harder. He bit her lip, closed her eyes, fighting against the sensation. Her nails dug welts into Ian's hand, as angled his arm, pushed against that sweet spot inside her while his rough palm brushed against her clit. Zoe groaned, unable to control herself as her hips moved on their own accord, meeting Ian's thrusts. She opened her eyes and stared pleadingly into his as she gasped over and over, "Remind me, remind me."

Ian began to fuck her with his fingers in earnest, moving roughly into her. "IAN!" she cried. "IAN!" Zoe was unable to stifle a wail of release, her body shaking as she came and came as her friend's hand impaled her. "GOD!" Her grip on his arm weakened, and Ian got her to lean against him as she rode the last waves of her orgasm.

 

[johnnynobody]

You know that feeling when you're feeling helpless and alone, but you can't talk to anyone because everyone assumes you never go through that?

That feeling sucks. XD

 

[johnnynobody]

"someday this world is going to end, and when we die, we'll only be left with fragile memories of what could have been."

 

[WhipLuvr]

Hi there. Do you mind if I dump some ideas here? I need to get them out of my head, they're snowballing and running into each other and its about to get messy.

 

[TwoShades]

Hi there. Do you mind if I dump some ideas here? I need to get them out of my head, they're snowballing and running into each other and its about to get messy.

LMAO. *Watching intently*

 

[johnnynobody]

Hi there. Do you mind if I dump some ideas here? I need to get them out of my head, they're snowballing and running into each other and its about to get messy.

I guess I don't mind it. XD