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Post by jimmi ziggs; on Feb 2, 2012 16:30:29 GMT -5
Jimmi deepened his kiss when he noticed that she was just as in to it as he was, and he let her fingers roam his body to remove his clothing, pressing his chest against hers and holding her close. Sex wasn't a big deal to him, after all the junkie got enough of it as it was, but somehow, Wynona was special to him, and it was the first time in a long time that he felt excitement towards the act. Every little inch of him, she explored, and he did the same with her, every little touch and sensation bringing him out from his cloudy, drugged up haze to feel the electricity course through his body. She must have known that he slept around a fair bit, yet he wondered if she was worried about her reputation getting ruined, after all, his wasn't squeaky clean, and he was a bit of a sleazebag, but it didn't matter now, nothing mattered, he was completely at ease, and excited.
Jimmi knew he was rough, he liked it rough, he gave it rough, and yet, he was being as gentle with her as he could without being a complete wimp. The junkie couldn't stand sexual partners who had no energy, or they were too gentle with him, so in consideration for her, he was, to a degree, gentle. He kept her close, the sensations were incredible, his thoughts were ones of an insane man, and for once in his life, he thought about sex meaning something other then an activity to engage in when one is bored. However this time, every noise she made every time she touched him, every time their lips met in a passionate kiss, it made his head spin, he felt that maybe the act of sex wasn't just for something to do when one was bored. That and they weren't fucking, they were making love, which was a term foreign to the Scott, it felt strange and he said the word quietly once so only he heard it, to taste the word, and it felt strange on his tongue. He never really 'made love' he shot up, fucked, showered, kicked the girl out and slept, but he hadn't done the act with passion for years and years, since before his heart was stone cold and rotting to all hell.
A brief thought entered his mind, did he care if someone saw him with someone? No, it had happened before, whatever, but now he did care a little, especially for Winnie's reputation, He didn't want the press to print lies about her being a whore, STD's, whatever else they could. However, his train of thought was lost when euphoria took over, leaving his mind blank and nearly empty, almost as if nothing else mattered to him but the time he was spending with Wynona, even if he was being rough. He left his mark alright, bite marks decorated her neck and collarbone, along with a hickey here and there, but not more then three, Jimmi hated giving hickeys almost as much as he hated getting them. He knew that he'd be a marked man by the time they were finished, she had bitten, clawed and nipped her way to leaving him black and purple, but he didn't care at all. He yanked her hair numerous times, not hesitant, but not too rough either, a happy medium between the two. Wynona was his, he was hers, the markings of their acts clearly visible and fresh, and definitely a reminder he wanted to sick around. Sid and Nancy, linked together by marks on flesh made by the other and by animalistic intentions, actions and words never spoken, but understood.
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Jimmi laid quietly on the floor, chest heaving, cigarette in hand, his free arm wrapped firmly around Wynona's shoulders, drawing her close to keep her warm. He slowly ran his fingers through her dark raven hair, silent for the time being as he took a large drag from his cigarette, and he gave a contented sigh. The junkie felt completely at ease, not one thought crossed his mind about drugs, as his head was still currently spinning and filled with visions of what just happened, the scene playing over and over again in his head like a broken record, a broken record he didn't ever want to fix. He craned his neck downwards and gently kissed the top of her head, then leaned back, resting his head on the carpet. His back hurt, now a marked man and covered in scratches, and he reached up to gingerly touch a welt on his neck, and he was damn proud of his bruises, bite marks and scratches. For a moment he gazed in to her teal eyes, mesmerized by their color, and how they were framed with thick lashes, everything about her screamed innocence, and now, it no longer bothered him. He was the cause of the bright flush that graced her cheeks, and the heaving of her chest, and he was completely happy. Her sentence was cut short when she fell asleep, but he knew exactly what she was going to say to him, and he pulled a blanket that had once been on the couch over them, too tired and lazy to get dressed, although, he felt somewhat exposed laying in the open. He got up once she was asleep, closing and locking the door to the room, not wanting anyone to pop in for a surprise visit. He returned and pulled her on to his chest again, looking down at her with a fondness that hadn't been on his face, or in his heart, for a very long time. The son of rage and love had found his Nancy, and with a soft sigh, he cuddled her close and slowly fell asleep, a smirk on his face.
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Jimmi awoke a little while later, finding that Wynona was still asleep, and got up to go get some coffee, pouring water into the machine and filled the filter up with some coffee grinds, pushing some hair off of his forehead and rubbed at his eyes, wondering if the lounge had a shower in it's bathroom. It should, since the bands hung out here often, it would be nice anyways, the room stank like sex, and he needed to scrub the sweat from his body, not that he minded smelling like Wynona, but he stank like sweat and bodily fluids as well. Lovely. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and checked the clock on the coffee maker, he had been asleep for about an hour or so, either that or the time on the clock on the coffee machine was broken. He soon gave up and poured himself a cup of black coffee and started to feel a little ill, his hands shaking uncontrollably and he frantically looked around for his leather jacket, making a slight noise. He was jonesing for a hit, just one little touch of sweet Smack and then he'd be alright. He found his supplies and went off to the bathroom, cooking the drugs and shooting up, leaning against the wall for a moment, letting out a laboured sigh.
He felt the darkness bite at his eyes, he was going to pass out again, or he was OD'ing, he didn't know, so he checked his pulse, he gave a sigh, it was normal, if not elevated just a tad, so he hadn't OD'd, thank god. He stood up and put the used needle and cotton ball in the trash, not wanting Wynona to find them at all, and he stared at himself in the mirror, taking a heavy drag from his cigarette. He drew his hand back and punched his reflection's face, breaking the mirror, he pulled his hand back quickly, glaring at his sliced and bloody knuckles. Hurriedly, he wrapped his hand up with some heavy-duty gauze he found and secured the wrap to his hand with a safety pin, returning to Winnie's side and laying back down, wondering why he was suddenly so enraged by his own reflection. Maybe it was because he saw himself as a sleazy dirt bag and that the girl he was currently laying with deserved someone better them him. He closed his eyes for a moment and nearly passed out again when a car horn interrupted his thoughts and Wynona sat straight up, his hand instinctively reached up and grazed the soft skin on her back, trying to comfort her "Shh, hey, it's alright, I'm right here" He whispered, propping himself up on his elbow. He wanted to know what spooked her so bad, so he sat up and pulled her in to a hug, entwining his fingers in her silky raven locks, sighing once "Are you alright? what happened?" He asked, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him with a finger that was half wrapped in gauze, tilting his head a little. He was worried now, and it squeezed painfully in his chest, he wanted to keep her bad dreams away, but how could he when he had his own demons to keep away?
After a while of holding her, he made a soft noise "I'm going to go have a shower...there is one around here, right?" He asked, forgetting what the bathroom even looked like, since he was way too high to even remember what the hell was even going on, although, holding her against him felt so right, to comfort her in a time of need seemed to be absolutely perfect. And holding her in his arms, she fit perfectly against him, like they were puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.
Wordcount:1,617
Notes: It's fine love, you don't have to change anything <3
Attire: here |
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Post by wynona aleshanee citlali; on Feb 2, 2012 22:26:54 GMT -5
She felt a bit disoriented at first until he seemed to move her face toward his and she blinked a few times to make her initial fear go away and then her muscles relaxed. He was speaking and it was like a fish hook reeling her in from her groggy and tired state. She remained silent for a bit as he spoke, telling her he was right there and then asking her what happened. She didn't know why she was so damn quiet for such a long time, but her eyes seemed to run down to his hand when she felt the odd fabric against her jaw. Manicured eyebrows coming together, she pulled her face away a bit to look at the make shift bandages and she frowned a bit, confused as to how on earth he'd done that to himself because she was sure she hadn't done it to him. If she had, she would have fussed over it from the get-go, "Your hand..." she ignored his question about a shower, suddenly completely focused on why his hand was wrapped up, "What happened?" Without thinking twice, she was unwrapping it mostly out of paranoia that it could get infected and she should put something on it to make it better. In her mind, she was chanting a healing prayer the Indians had taught her back in the Alaskan Bush whenever someone in their village was very ill. It wasn't necessarily to be healed but for the spirits to bring them back what they had once lost. Bleeding was like having one's spirit leak out and back into the spirit world but it could be replenished if you lived the correct way.
Seeing the cut, or maybe even possibly cuts, on his knuckles and hand, she swiftly stood, not really caring that she was completely naked, and grabbed her clutch, rummaging through it before producing tweezers. It was a girl thing, really. Sitting across from him Indian style, she put his hand in her own and with the tweezers, started picking the tiny and thin pieces of shards on his hand, "It was just a bad dream," though she knew it was more than a dream. The Native Americans had taught her more than to just brush off such dreams as if they were nothing. No matter where she was, dreams had a big impact on her life and it was why she was the weirdo who slept with a dream catcher above her bed and if she had a car, she'd have one hanging on the rear view mirror, "And there actually isn't...I checked last week when I spilled soda on my legs," which was the God honest truth. It had two bathrooms, one for men and one for women, and two sinks and two stalls in each. She had to use water from the sink on paper towels to get the stickiness off and then she ended up just going back to the bus or hotel or whatever to take a shower. She had suggested they add a shower but she knew band members would end up having sex in there with people...not that she could complain. They didn't really need the shower to accomplish such a feat right? "We can go back to my bus? No one is ever really on it during the day," which was true. It was like her band mates avoided it like it was the plague or something.
Which was how Wynona was avoiding analyzing her dream. Her father, before he passed, used to tell her dreams were like premonitions for the future. They may not happen exactly the way it had in the dream world since the dream world was another plain or realm that reality wouldn't ever be able to accomplish or understand. It happened similarly or symbolically. Wynona was running in her dream, specifically in a dark gown and no shoes through an unfamiliar city that looked abandoned. She had kept looking over her bare shoulder, trying to figure out if the pursuer was catching up or not and just as she was halfway across a large avenue that was empty, a car came speeding down and she stopped right there with wide eyes and just let it hit her like it was exactly what she wanted. Wouldn't most people wake up on this part? She hadn't. It was like she felt the full impact of the vehicle, felt the way her head slammed onto the pavement, felt her bones crunch and her body bruise like a peach, crushed under the momentum of the hunk of metal. But what could that mean? She had lived, despite all of that. Wynona could still open her eyes, could still breathe and blink, could still hear her heart beat even if it was faint but she couldn't move from the physical pain. Something bad was about to happen soon but she would live through it? She had woken up before the dream could finish...unless that was the end of it. Even she didn't know and she still didn't know who had been chasing her.
Her teal orbs, large and round, wavered a bit at the thought but paid attention to her surroundings. She was fully awake now as she gingerly tried to get every thing out of the cut/s that could possibly harm him. It was a bit of a maternal move but she couldn't help herself. He was Jimmi and she was Wynona. They were....Jimmona? Wymmi? She liked the sound of Jimmona better but no, she couldn't get carried away. Yes, they made love for a couple hours and then had a cuddle party at the end before falling asleep but it didn't mean he was suddenly going to sweep her off her feet as they walked out of there with smiling faces and announce "Hey everyone! Meet my girlfriend, Wynona!" If she could ever even be considered his girlfriend. She wouldn't mind it...not because he was famous or because he could ruin her reputation-she didn't care about any of that. Once she was done, she wrapped it back up. She'd fix it better when they got out of there and back to the real world...if he let her. Looking up at him, her eyes locked with his own and in the pit of her stomach, she felt a hand reach out and squeeze her heart as tightly as it could. His pupils were dilated....he had a cut on his hand...He had that certain expression on his face she'd become very accustomed to even if he didn't realize he was doing it...
Jimmi was high. High as a kite. High that Christ and the clouds and the heavens and she was just hoping he hadn't been while they were doing it or while she was sleeping. If he had, it meant he probably only liked her when he was high and she had no idea how she felt about that. She just knew that for the first time ever, him being high gave her a horrible sinking feeling. It was a strange case of nostalgia...like someone had taken home and pumped it with toxic air or put graffiti on it. Jimmi felt like home and she hadn't felt like she'd been home ever in her life-like she didn't belong and yet with him she felt like she fit in perfectly...But what if it was all a lie? Or maybe not a lie but just a moment of passion fueled by a needle and some skag? She reached over and grabbed her shirt and panties just so she wasn't so naked before she looked over at him, biting her lower lip as she hesitated to say what she wanted to say, "Were you...uhm...were you high when we...?" She couldn't help but ask. She'd never asked him such a thing before because she normally knew when he was but it was a bit obvious she was insecure about their ordeal and set up given his history. She didn't judge him on it-he had his reasons for being the way he was and having those behaviors but given her background in the subject, she couldn't help but feel worried that it had been induced by drugs...and not himself.
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Post by jimmi ziggs; on Feb 7, 2012 22:19:23 GMT -5
Jimmi gave her a quizzical look, not knowing what she was talking about....his hand...what the fuck? He looked down and looked surprised as hell to find blood soaked bandages looking back at him "Oh shit I forgot about that..." He trailed off, flexing his fingers a little, then laughed like a little kid, a side effect of heroin. "I punched a mirror, couldn't look at myself anymore I guess" He spoke, looking at her "It's fine Winnie, it's just a little scratch, you know how they can bleed a lot sometimes, right? it's probably not even that serious..." He trailed off, watching her curiously, why was she worrying anyways? It was just a little scrape, not as bad as it should have been anyways. He looked at her for a moment, completely nude and he blushed a little, looking away, feeling like a little kid again. He knew that their little 'act of passion' would be all over the papers, no doubt hitting him below the belt for acting like a pussy. He had a sleazy reputation, and he didn't want that ruined, but he also wanted it to go away, just for a bit so he could focus on his current feelings for Wynona.
Jimmi sighed, he was a guy who was afraid of commitment, and thought that a relationship was a death sentence all dressed up fancy and put in a velvet box. He had a hard time trusting girls normally, too, since the last one he let into his heart stabbed it with a rusty knife. The junkie didn't really fall in love, he hadn’t been in love in about three to four years, but when he did, he fell hard, and he was starting to feel a little light headed, and blamed it on the heroin. "About what? You shouldn't ignore nightmares, they can sometimes be omens of the future" He spoke, jiggling his leg a little, having more energy to burn. He growled at her a little when she removed the bandages, the blood having dried and had glued the cuts to the gauze. "Fucking hell, Wynona" He muttered, his hand shaking slightly, now he felt the pain, and some of the cuts looked like, to him, that they needed stitches. "Ow...bloody hell....So no shower? Man that sucks....I stink like I just had the most amazing experience at a rave while having sex" Which was somewhat, he had just had one of the more amazing experiences that he had ever encountered, one of which being the fact that sex had felt as good sober as it did when he was higher then a kite. He waggled his eyebrows at her "If I was there I would have made sure that you weren't sticky anymore..." He whispered against her lips, stealing a small kiss, another side effect of heroin, it made him one horny bastard, although, he winced and drew back when she picked a large shard of mirror from his hand "Ouch, Jesus" He muttered, gritting his teeth a little. When she mentioned her bus, his facial expression narrowed in to a devilish smirk and he grinned a little "Alright, I'd like that, it sounds like a great idea." He spoke, then took her hands away from his cut for a moment, then handed her his shirt "Here.....I want you to wear it..." He spoke, his tone soft, it was true, he'd love to see her in one of his over sized tees, although it'd probably be like a short dress on her, he didn't care.
Jimmi gently gave her cheek a soft caress, noticing when her eyes wavered a little, the junkie knew how to read people well, especially if the person in question was stoned to all hell. He knew Winnie wouldn't touch the shit, nor was she high currently, unless she got a contact high from his sweat, but he doubted that would happen, he came down from his high just shortly after they started going at it, and he still felt the same sober as he did higher then heaven. He noticed how careful she was being with him and he tilted his head, normally people weren't so caring and soothing with him when they touched him. Yet he didn't mind her being all over him, something about her just made him want to protect her, and then the question came. He knew that she knew he was high, it wasn't that hard to hide, after all, the guy had crystal blue eyes, and his pupils probably looked almost bigger then his irises, and he had a somewhat confused look on his face 90 percent of the time when he was baked, and the mood swings didn't help either.
Jimmi gave Wynona the most offended look he could before raising an eyebrow "Oh god no! Winnie....why would you even think about something like that?" He asked, his tone a little higher then it normally was, a little offended that he would have been right out of his mind when they had given themselves to someone, and Jimmi had shared some secrets with her, and being sober while being intimate with her was one of them "If I was baked, I wouldn't have been able to perform as well as I did. Heroin lowers the libido, as does Cocaine. I would have been a lot more hyper, but not near as good" He explained, taking her hand in his, drawing little circles in her palm. What he had told her was the god honest truth, he wouldn't lie to her at all, he didn't feel the need to lie to her. If she was just another cheap fuck he would have made sure he was high during the whole experience and then would have said something along the lines of ‘Yeah, I was. What's it to ya?’ Jimmi, however, wanted nothing to do with his old bullshit when he was around her, and made a constant effort to make sure he thought about what he was going to do first before he acted out on it. Something about his newfound feelings made him realize that she was a lot more precious then his mistress, heroin, yet he was torn between the two “I want you to understand that I don’t take heroin to really get high anymore, I take it to stay normal. If I don’t shoot up, it get the shakes, I get grumpy, I get dope sick, and its hell on my nerves”
Wordcount:1,083
Notes: <3
Attire: here |
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