Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Chains That Link Us Together ::Frikey::
Frank’s POV
-a month after being kidnapped-
I woke up… And I remembered… All of it… Not just blurry bits and fuzzy pieces. I had it all, clear as crystal. Like it all happened five minutes ago and it was still fresh on my mind.
“Jam… Jam wake up.” I said and shook her shoulder. “Jam!”
“Frank… What do you want? It is one in the damn morning.” She groaned.
“I remember.” I said, and smiled.
“Everything?” She asked.
“Every-freaking-thing!” I exclaimed and smiled.
“Ah!” She said and hugged me tight. “Tell me everything!”
“…I… don’t… want to…” I said, scared of what her reaction would be to what happened. Would she believe me? Would she be mad? Would she understand?
“Frank… Please…” she said.
“You’d hate me if I told you.” I retorted.
“You really believe that?” She asked.
“…You don’t know what happened…” I said and hung my head.
“I’ll love you no matter what.” she said and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Well, when I was going to get milk, I heard footsteps behind me, and there was no one there every time I checked. And I checked like twenty times. And the next time I turned around, I’m guessing I got hit with something… then when I woke up this guy helped me out of my blindfold, and I as in this like this -for lack of a better word- dungeon. And this really old guy -I forget what he said his name was- made the kid -well he wasn’t a kid, he’s actually older than me, but only by a year ‘er so- do things to each other I order to get out -alive-…” I said quietly.
“Do what to each other?” She persisted.
“…Mmm… Er… make each other… you know…” I hinted.
“Beat each other up? Like… A hostage fight club?” She asked.
“No… I mean… Like… Make each other… Cum…” I started, then looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Have you even watched that movie?”
“No… But it sounded like it would be similar…” She said, and then put her hand on my shoulder. “Frank, I’m actually glad you chose that over death. I’d be so lost without you…”
“…Jamia… You don’t get it… I liked it.” I said, and moved away from her shoulder.
“Oh… Well you still love me, right?” She asked.
“More thank anything…” I said and smiled a little at her.
“Then it’s fine, okay Frank? I promise.” She said and kissed my cheek.
“Okay…” I agreed and laid back down, then held Jamia.
Look at us. We’re already like one of those 50 something couples. Kisses on the cheek, not on the lips. Cuddling every single day, and no sex. Hell, it was like this before I was kidnapped. We’d been together for five years, and we’re already sick of each other. It’s like going through the motions. She doesn’t even want kids. I want kids. She doesn’t want to pick out a china pattern. I want to pick out a china pattern. She doesn’t want a puppy. Fuck her, I love dogs, and I’m getting one.
-a week after Frank’s memory returned-
“Frank, I’m going down in the basement and the yard, I’m going to get some laundry and yard work done.” Jamia said, peeking into the bedroom where I was laying, flipping through the television stations.
“Mkay, love you.” I said flatly.
“…Love you, too…” She said back in the same tone.
She walked out of the room, I counted to thirty five, and heard the basement door shut. I grabbed the lube out of my dresser drawer. The only reason we had it was because she couldn’t get wet, but that wasn’t what was keeping my from getting it up. I didn’t have a problem, because if I thought for too long, I started to think about Mikey, and that sure as hell got me hard. Sex was stale lately, and my climax was nothing but a weak dribble, and hers was just a groan. Then she’d take a fucking shower right away. What the fuck? I like to cuddle after sex, she’s a chick, why doesn’t she? It’s like she thinks I’m disgusting. We can’t even look each other in the face when we’re having sex. It’s like she’s just laying there, thinking about England, and I’m caught doing all the damn work praying for it to be over. Sex with her was worse than no sex at all. If I cussed, as a sign of me actually enjoying it, she’d tell me not to talk like that. That’s the only noise she fucking made. And damn it, today, I was going to get off and enjoy it. Even if I am all alone.
I laid back on the bed, and palmed myself gently through my pajama bottoms. I remembered Mikey’s moans and whimpers. The way he writhed and tensed up. I moaned slightly at the memory of the man, and I was already supporting a hard on, and I pulled my bottoms down quickly, excited at the thought alone of actually getting off.
I poured some of the clear liquid on my hands, and wrapped it around my stiff member and stroked myself, remembering Mikey’s virgin -and skilled- hands doing their magic. I tried to remember how his slender fingers moved along my cock in just a way I liked. I couldn’t possibly recreate it, but I was sure as hell going to try.
I didn’t even try to quiet my moans and calls while I frantically rubbed myself desperate for orgasm. I brushed the pre-cum off my tip like Mikey did to me -though I‘m sure he didn‘t mean to-.
“Mmmfuck… Oh god Mikey…” I cried out, turned my head, burying it in a pillow. I bit my lip hard -so hard I think I broke skin- and my moans got louder as I drawled closer and closer to my climax. “Y-Yes… Fuck you’re so good…” I said and bit at the pillow, pretending it was him, and that my hand was any part of Mikey’s gorgeous body. I drug my clammy empty palm up my chest, and teased my nipples, groaning in delight.
“Fucking fuck… oh god… oh fuck…” I whined, feeling the wonderful tensing of my muscles, and then I erupted in a silent scream, and came hard all over my chest. I squirmed around on the bed with a smile on my face, breathless. I didn’t care who heard me calling out -practically some strangers- name. I didn’t care. This is the best I’ve felt in about two years -excluding when Mikey actually gave me a hand job-.
I waited about twenty minutes, before cleaning up and taking a shower.
-Four months after being kidnapped, a week before Mikey went looking for Frank-
Jamia and I were eating breakfast, and she looked up from her plate, her face pressed into a hard line, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Frank… I can’t handle this anymore…” She said.
“Can’t handle what?” I asked.
“This… Every time I’m with you… I think of you with Mikey…” She said.
“…How do you know his name?” I asked.
“You masturbate to the thought of him on a bi-daily basis. I figured that as the guy you said you liked being with…” She assumed.
“…Jamia, I’m sorry…” I apologized.
“It’s fine… I just… I think… You and I need to take a break from each other…” She suggested.
“…Well since you and I…” I started coldly. You and I. We’ve been engaged for how long, and now we’re not we? “Are being honest… I have something to say… I love you, Jamia. I think you’re beautiful, and everything I could ever want in a person… I’m just not attracted to you… or in love with you…”
“Get out. I’ll pack your stuff, just get out. We’re not made for each other, and I don’t want to tie you down, and I don’t want you to tie me down. Hell, we’re only in our early twenties. We can’t be this serious…” She said.
“…You think so?” I asked.
“Yes, I think so. Just get the hell out, I don’t want to look at you anymore. You’ve hurt me, and now you don’t want me in any way anymore… and you just can’t fake love, and we’re not in love… So… Yeah… I’ll be gentle with your stuff, I’ll pack it up, and you can take one last look around the house in two weeks incase you feel like you’re missing anything…” She said and pointed to the door.
I nodded and walked outside, not sure where to go, or who to go to. Maybe this is a good thing?
A/N;
Review. Rate. Add to Favorites. Add to alerts. In. That. Order!
How do you think the Frikey will become Frikey?
Answer in reviews.
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Don't hit on my story, because it's already engaged (dear person who is engaged to my Frikey, ehem... YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) and preggo.
Looove you.
-a month after being kidnapped-
I woke up… And I remembered… All of it… Not just blurry bits and fuzzy pieces. I had it all, clear as crystal. Like it all happened five minutes ago and it was still fresh on my mind.
“Jam… Jam wake up.” I said and shook her shoulder. “Jam!”
“Frank… What do you want? It is one in the damn morning.” She groaned.
“I remember.” I said, and smiled.
“Everything?” She asked.
“Every-freaking-thing!” I exclaimed and smiled.
“Ah!” She said and hugged me tight. “Tell me everything!”
“…I… don’t… want to…” I said, scared of what her reaction would be to what happened. Would she believe me? Would she be mad? Would she understand?
“Frank… Please…” she said.
“You’d hate me if I told you.” I retorted.
“You really believe that?” She asked.
“…You don’t know what happened…” I said and hung my head.
“I’ll love you no matter what.” she said and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Well, when I was going to get milk, I heard footsteps behind me, and there was no one there every time I checked. And I checked like twenty times. And the next time I turned around, I’m guessing I got hit with something… then when I woke up this guy helped me out of my blindfold, and I as in this like this -for lack of a better word- dungeon. And this really old guy -I forget what he said his name was- made the kid -well he wasn’t a kid, he’s actually older than me, but only by a year ‘er so- do things to each other I order to get out -alive-…” I said quietly.
“Do what to each other?” She persisted.
“…Mmm… Er… make each other… you know…” I hinted.
“Beat each other up? Like… A hostage fight club?” She asked.
“No… I mean… Like… Make each other… Cum…” I started, then looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Have you even watched that movie?”
“No… But it sounded like it would be similar…” She said, and then put her hand on my shoulder. “Frank, I’m actually glad you chose that over death. I’d be so lost without you…”
“…Jamia… You don’t get it… I liked it.” I said, and moved away from her shoulder.
“Oh… Well you still love me, right?” She asked.
“More thank anything…” I said and smiled a little at her.
“Then it’s fine, okay Frank? I promise.” She said and kissed my cheek.
“Okay…” I agreed and laid back down, then held Jamia.
Look at us. We’re already like one of those 50 something couples. Kisses on the cheek, not on the lips. Cuddling every single day, and no sex. Hell, it was like this before I was kidnapped. We’d been together for five years, and we’re already sick of each other. It’s like going through the motions. She doesn’t even want kids. I want kids. She doesn’t want to pick out a china pattern. I want to pick out a china pattern. She doesn’t want a puppy. Fuck her, I love dogs, and I’m getting one.
-a week after Frank’s memory returned-
“Frank, I’m going down in the basement and the yard, I’m going to get some laundry and yard work done.” Jamia said, peeking into the bedroom where I was laying, flipping through the television stations.
“Mkay, love you.” I said flatly.
“…Love you, too…” She said back in the same tone.
She walked out of the room, I counted to thirty five, and heard the basement door shut. I grabbed the lube out of my dresser drawer. The only reason we had it was because she couldn’t get wet, but that wasn’t what was keeping my from getting it up. I didn’t have a problem, because if I thought for too long, I started to think about Mikey, and that sure as hell got me hard. Sex was stale lately, and my climax was nothing but a weak dribble, and hers was just a groan. Then she’d take a fucking shower right away. What the fuck? I like to cuddle after sex, she’s a chick, why doesn’t she? It’s like she thinks I’m disgusting. We can’t even look each other in the face when we’re having sex. It’s like she’s just laying there, thinking about England, and I’m caught doing all the damn work praying for it to be over. Sex with her was worse than no sex at all. If I cussed, as a sign of me actually enjoying it, she’d tell me not to talk like that. That’s the only noise she fucking made. And damn it, today, I was going to get off and enjoy it. Even if I am all alone.
I laid back on the bed, and palmed myself gently through my pajama bottoms. I remembered Mikey’s moans and whimpers. The way he writhed and tensed up. I moaned slightly at the memory of the man, and I was already supporting a hard on, and I pulled my bottoms down quickly, excited at the thought alone of actually getting off.
I poured some of the clear liquid on my hands, and wrapped it around my stiff member and stroked myself, remembering Mikey’s virgin -and skilled- hands doing their magic. I tried to remember how his slender fingers moved along my cock in just a way I liked. I couldn’t possibly recreate it, but I was sure as hell going to try.
I didn’t even try to quiet my moans and calls while I frantically rubbed myself desperate for orgasm. I brushed the pre-cum off my tip like Mikey did to me -though I‘m sure he didn‘t mean to-.
“Mmmfuck… Oh god Mikey…” I cried out, turned my head, burying it in a pillow. I bit my lip hard -so hard I think I broke skin- and my moans got louder as I drawled closer and closer to my climax. “Y-Yes… Fuck you’re so good…” I said and bit at the pillow, pretending it was him, and that my hand was any part of Mikey’s gorgeous body. I drug my clammy empty palm up my chest, and teased my nipples, groaning in delight.
“Fucking fuck… oh god… oh fuck…” I whined, feeling the wonderful tensing of my muscles, and then I erupted in a silent scream, and came hard all over my chest. I squirmed around on the bed with a smile on my face, breathless. I didn’t care who heard me calling out -practically some strangers- name. I didn’t care. This is the best I’ve felt in about two years -excluding when Mikey actually gave me a hand job-.
I waited about twenty minutes, before cleaning up and taking a shower.
-Four months after being kidnapped, a week before Mikey went looking for Frank-
Jamia and I were eating breakfast, and she looked up from her plate, her face pressed into a hard line, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Frank… I can’t handle this anymore…” She said.
“Can’t handle what?” I asked.
“This… Every time I’m with you… I think of you with Mikey…” She said.
“…How do you know his name?” I asked.
“You masturbate to the thought of him on a bi-daily basis. I figured that as the guy you said you liked being with…” She assumed.
“…Jamia, I’m sorry…” I apologized.
“It’s fine… I just… I think… You and I need to take a break from each other…” She suggested.
“…Well since you and I…” I started coldly. You and I. We’ve been engaged for how long, and now we’re not we? “Are being honest… I have something to say… I love you, Jamia. I think you’re beautiful, and everything I could ever want in a person… I’m just not attracted to you… or in love with you…”
“Get out. I’ll pack your stuff, just get out. We’re not made for each other, and I don’t want to tie you down, and I don’t want you to tie me down. Hell, we’re only in our early twenties. We can’t be this serious…” She said.
“…You think so?” I asked.
“Yes, I think so. Just get the hell out, I don’t want to look at you anymore. You’ve hurt me, and now you don’t want me in any way anymore… and you just can’t fake love, and we’re not in love… So… Yeah… I’ll be gentle with your stuff, I’ll pack it up, and you can take one last look around the house in two weeks incase you feel like you’re missing anything…” She said and pointed to the door.
I nodded and walked outside, not sure where to go, or who to go to. Maybe this is a good thing?
A/N;
Review. Rate. Add to Favorites. Add to alerts. In. That. Order!
How do you think the Frikey will become Frikey?
Answer in reviews.
Ask questions in reviews.
Don't hit on my story, because it's already engaged (dear person who is engaged to my Frikey, ehem... YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) and preggo.
Looove you.
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