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Aug. 19th, 2010 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsAt one time I used to start one story and just keep going until it was done. Now I have actual WIPs. Granted, not as many as most people, but I'm not used to this.
Just in bandom I have the story where Bob is a pre-school teacher and ends up hooking up with Mikey. I've got so much done on that, I really need to get the damn thing finished. The one where Panic are runaways, and Ryan is saved by the Ways, in that Ryan has been knocked down and lying down on the road for a while now, he's probably bled to death by now. The Mikey/Gabe bodyswap that comes complete with an added dose of mixed up waycest, a canon based Frank/Mikey dealing with hook ups on tour and the beginning of gritty hooker fic which is so damn clichéd that if I actually had shame I'd be feeling it right now. A few thousand words in and already people are hungry and cold and fighting and bruised and just. Story of my heart, let me gaze upon you with love and affection. Though admittedly that story doesn't have an actual plot yet, but it will, I'm just indulging myself right now.
I'll just wait a moment for all you people with 2827028 wip lists to laugh at me now. Done? Okay.
I wrote cheer-up comment fic forshinetheway who's been feeling a bit poorly. She gave me prompts and I picked Frank having a broken femur and Mikey cheering him up with bad jokes. Which this is, also with added Jamia/Frank/Bob fantasy sex. I don't know what happened, okay? It just did. I blame Shine personally. I keep looking at her other prompts and having to look away before they morph into something like Mikey/Pete/Ashlee/Andy/Rubber duck.
Jamia opens the door before Mikey even gets the chance to knock. She’s already wearing her coat and pulls on a pink woollen hat as Mikey kicks his boots against the step, knocking off the snow.
“He’s already eaten,” Jamia says, wrapping a pink and black striped scarf around her neck. “He needs to take his meds in an hour, don’t let him say he doesn’t need them.”
“Okay.” Mikey comes inside, standing on the skull-print welcome mat as Jamia pulls on mittens and grabs her purse.
“I shouldn’t be long, it’s just...” She trails off and rubs a mittened hand against her face. “I love him but he’s driving me insane.”
“You should have doped him with something,” Mikey says, and smiles when Jamia laughs, her cheeks rounding under the layers of scarf.
“I considered it.” She looks toward the stairs then moves forward, stretching up and pressing a kiss against Mikey’s cheek. “Thanks.”
Mikey smiles again and starts to take off his coat. “Go, we’ll be fine.”
Jamia steps outside and snowflakes settle on her shoulders and hat, glistening as she looks at Mikey. “I’m sure you will be. I’ll knock when I come back.” She grins then, adds, “Or maybe I won’t.”
Coat fully off, Mikey hangs it on the stand, looking over his shoulder at Jamia. “It’s your house, no knocking.”
It should be impossible, but Jamia’s grin widens even further, her eyes bright under the woollen line of her hat. “Shameless.”
Mikey shrugs, hiding his own smile. “He’s in the master bedroom?”
“It was that or the basement,” Jamia says, taking out her car keys. “But yeah.”
“I’d better go up.” Mikey wiggles his fingers at Jamia and starts to close the door, then stops at a series of rhythmic thumps from upstairs. “Is that....”
“Yeah,” Jamia says, opening her car door. She looks back at Mikey. “Good luck.”
~~~~
Mikey finds Frank in the master bedroom. He’s lying on his side, pillows scattered at the bottom of the bed, looking amused as he bangs one of his crutches against the floor. When he sees Mikey Frank’s mouth turns down as he scowls and uses his crutch to point. “You left me alone. I could have rolled off the bed and broken my other leg.”
“You’ve been alone for five minutes,” Mikey points out, walking into the room. He settles on the side of the bed away from Frank’s purple casted leg. “And you’re not an invalid, you’re allowed to walk with your crutches.”
Frank flops onto his back, sighing and looking pathetic. “Jamia made me stay here.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow and stares at Frank. “Why?”
Mouth twitching at one corner, Frank says, “Because she’s mean and doesn’t understand the depths of my pain.”
“Really?” Mikey asks. “It’s not because you were playing baseball with your crutch and Mama’s ball?”
Frank sighs again, long and tragic. “It’s no fun if she tells you everything, and I only broke one vase.”
Mikey tries to be stern, reminding himself that Frank’s got a broken leg and shouldn’t be running around playing baseball indoors, but the facts are, crutch baseball sounds fucking cool. Going for a halfway measure he adopts ‘press pictures expression one’ TM Gerard , asks, “Did you get a home run?”
Frank shakes his head. “I tripped over Peppers, it’s how I broke the vase.”
“Tragic,” Mikey says, and doesn’t even laugh when Frank gives him a suspicious look.
“Fucking traitor, I know you’re laughing inside.”
Mikey looks levelly at Frank. “Wrong, I’m weeping inside. You just can’t see it.”
“Ray wouldn’t laugh at me,” Frank says, and attempts to kick at Mikey, his bare toes impacting against Mikey’s thigh. “Fuck.”
“Idiot,” Mikey says, and starts gathering the scattered pillows, heaping them in a long pile. “Put your leg there and lie still.”
Frank does, hissing in a breath as he curls his hands into fists. “Entertain me.”
Mikey takes in how Frank’s gone pale, how his eyes are screwed shut, and knows it’s a real request, one made in a need for a distraction and not any amusement value. It’s why Mikey says, “A man walked into a house. Ouch.”
Frank opens one eye. “That’s it?”
“Fucking demanding,” Mikey says, but remembers something he’d read the night before. “Three drunks are standing on top of the Empire State Building. The first one says to the other two, it's a funny thing about these wind currents. You could jump off of this building right now and not hit the ground; the wind would carry you right back up. The second drunk says, You're nuts. The first drunk says, I'm serious. Watch. So the first drunk jumps off of the fucking building, and the wind carries him right back up to the top.The second drunk says, let me try and leaps off the building and falls to the sidewalk, internal organs splattering everywhere, blood gushing like a fountain. The first drunk laughs and the third drunk looks at him and says, you know, Superman, you can be a real bastard when you're drunk."
“Better,” Frank says, relaxing slightly, both of his eyes open as he looks at Mikey. “Tell me another, but down here.”
“I don’t know any more,” Mikey says, folding forward so he can unlace his boots. “That’s it.”
Frank snorts dismissively. “Bob would know more jokes.”
Which is probably true, but all Mikey does is pull off his boots, letting them thud to the floor, then lies alongside Frank, sharing his pillow. He stares, taking in the lines at the corner of Frank’s eyes, the dark shadows and how Frank’s bottom lip is bitten and dry. Upping his distraction technique, Mikey says, “Would Bob do this?”
Mikey rests his hand on the front of Frank’s pajama bottoms, palm over his dick. He doesn’t move his hand, just remains still as Frank swallows and uses his good leg to thrust up the tiniest amount, as if unable to help himself as he says, “He might.”
“Yeah?” Mikey says, and curls his fingers over the waistband of the pajamas, his fingertips brushing against skin. “Bob would jerk you off? Wrap his hand around your dick, his strong, calloused drummer’s hands?”
“Yes,” Frank gasps out, obviously turned on.
“Stay still,” Mikey commands, directly in Frank’s ear. Pressing the heel of his palm against Frank’s dick, Mikey nips at his earlobe. “So you’re telling me that Bob would come here, lie on your bed and touch you like this?” Again, Frank thrusts up but Mikey doesn’t move his hand, trapping Frank against the bed. “I said, still.”
Punctuating that with another nip at Frank’s earlobe, Mikey keeps talking. “Or do you want him to do more, Frankie? Do you want him to fuck you with his fingers and tongue? For him to hold your legs apart as he licks until you’re slick and sloppy, spit soaked so he can add fingers, maybe his thumbs.”
Frank whimpers low in his throat and his eyes flutter closed, colour staining his pale cheeks. Mikey presses the advantage, keeping Frank still while breaking him apart with words.
“Or do you want to wait until you can wrap your legs around his back? Cling on as he fucks you so hard that all you can do is lie there and take it. You want that don’t you? Bob fucking you, making you hold onto the headboard and try to bite back your screams.”
Frank tries to arch his back, his head pushed into the pillow and mouth open, his voice rough when he says, “Mikey, please.”
Mikey delivers his killer blow, licks along Frank’s jawline and then says, “You want him to fuck you with Jamia watching, for her to be there as you scream into her mouth, for her to be there when Bob pulls out, joining her hand with his, pushing their fingers into you when you’re slick and fucked open.”
Frank moans, gasps, “Jesus, fuck,” and the crotch of his pajama’s darkening under Mikey’s fingers. Breathing hard, Frank opens his eyes and turns his head, looking at Mikey. “Bastard.”
“I was entertaining you,” Mikey says simply, and kisses Frank on the mouth. “And for my encore you get to watch.”
Hands going to his belt, Mikey lies on his back.
Just in bandom I have the story where Bob is a pre-school teacher and ends up hooking up with Mikey. I've got so much done on that, I really need to get the damn thing finished. The one where Panic are runaways, and Ryan is saved by the Ways, in that Ryan has been knocked down and lying down on the road for a while now, he's probably bled to death by now. The Mikey/Gabe bodyswap that comes complete with an added dose of mixed up waycest, a canon based Frank/Mikey dealing with hook ups on tour and the beginning of gritty hooker fic which is so damn clichéd that if I actually had shame I'd be feeling it right now. A few thousand words in and already people are hungry and cold and fighting and bruised and just. Story of my heart, let me gaze upon you with love and affection. Though admittedly that story doesn't have an actual plot yet, but it will, I'm just indulging myself right now.
I'll just wait a moment for all you people with 2827028 wip lists to laugh at me now. Done? Okay.
I wrote cheer-up comment fic for
shinetheway who's been feeling a bit poorly. She gave me prompts and I picked Frank having a broken femur and Mikey cheering him up with bad jokes. Which this is, also with added Jamia/Frank/Bob fantasy sex. I don't know what happened, okay? It just did. I blame Shine personally. I keep looking at her other prompts and having to look away before they morph into something like Mikey/Pete/Ashlee/Andy/Rubber duck.Jamia opens the door before Mikey even gets the chance to knock. She’s already wearing her coat and pulls on a pink woollen hat as Mikey kicks his boots against the step, knocking off the snow.
“He’s already eaten,” Jamia says, wrapping a pink and black striped scarf around her neck. “He needs to take his meds in an hour, don’t let him say he doesn’t need them.”
“Okay.” Mikey comes inside, standing on the skull-print welcome mat as Jamia pulls on mittens and grabs her purse.
“I shouldn’t be long, it’s just...” She trails off and rubs a mittened hand against her face. “I love him but he’s driving me insane.”
“You should have doped him with something,” Mikey says, and smiles when Jamia laughs, her cheeks rounding under the layers of scarf.
“I considered it.” She looks toward the stairs then moves forward, stretching up and pressing a kiss against Mikey’s cheek. “Thanks.”
Mikey smiles again and starts to take off his coat. “Go, we’ll be fine.”
Jamia steps outside and snowflakes settle on her shoulders and hat, glistening as she looks at Mikey. “I’m sure you will be. I’ll knock when I come back.” She grins then, adds, “Or maybe I won’t.”
Coat fully off, Mikey hangs it on the stand, looking over his shoulder at Jamia. “It’s your house, no knocking.”
It should be impossible, but Jamia’s grin widens even further, her eyes bright under the woollen line of her hat. “Shameless.”
Mikey shrugs, hiding his own smile. “He’s in the master bedroom?”
“It was that or the basement,” Jamia says, taking out her car keys. “But yeah.”
“I’d better go up.” Mikey wiggles his fingers at Jamia and starts to close the door, then stops at a series of rhythmic thumps from upstairs. “Is that....”
“Yeah,” Jamia says, opening her car door. She looks back at Mikey. “Good luck.”
~~~~
Mikey finds Frank in the master bedroom. He’s lying on his side, pillows scattered at the bottom of the bed, looking amused as he bangs one of his crutches against the floor. When he sees Mikey Frank’s mouth turns down as he scowls and uses his crutch to point. “You left me alone. I could have rolled off the bed and broken my other leg.”
“You’ve been alone for five minutes,” Mikey points out, walking into the room. He settles on the side of the bed away from Frank’s purple casted leg. “And you’re not an invalid, you’re allowed to walk with your crutches.”
Frank flops onto his back, sighing and looking pathetic. “Jamia made me stay here.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow and stares at Frank. “Why?”
Mouth twitching at one corner, Frank says, “Because she’s mean and doesn’t understand the depths of my pain.”
“Really?” Mikey asks. “It’s not because you were playing baseball with your crutch and Mama’s ball?”
Frank sighs again, long and tragic. “It’s no fun if she tells you everything, and I only broke one vase.”
Mikey tries to be stern, reminding himself that Frank’s got a broken leg and shouldn’t be running around playing baseball indoors, but the facts are, crutch baseball sounds fucking cool. Going for a halfway measure he adopts ‘press pictures expression one’ TM Gerard , asks, “Did you get a home run?”
Frank shakes his head. “I tripped over Peppers, it’s how I broke the vase.”
“Tragic,” Mikey says, and doesn’t even laugh when Frank gives him a suspicious look.
“Fucking traitor, I know you’re laughing inside.”
Mikey looks levelly at Frank. “Wrong, I’m weeping inside. You just can’t see it.”
“Ray wouldn’t laugh at me,” Frank says, and attempts to kick at Mikey, his bare toes impacting against Mikey’s thigh. “Fuck.”
“Idiot,” Mikey says, and starts gathering the scattered pillows, heaping them in a long pile. “Put your leg there and lie still.”
Frank does, hissing in a breath as he curls his hands into fists. “Entertain me.”
Mikey takes in how Frank’s gone pale, how his eyes are screwed shut, and knows it’s a real request, one made in a need for a distraction and not any amusement value. It’s why Mikey says, “A man walked into a house. Ouch.”
Frank opens one eye. “That’s it?”
“Fucking demanding,” Mikey says, but remembers something he’d read the night before. “Three drunks are standing on top of the Empire State Building. The first one says to the other two, it's a funny thing about these wind currents. You could jump off of this building right now and not hit the ground; the wind would carry you right back up. The second drunk says, You're nuts. The first drunk says, I'm serious. Watch. So the first drunk jumps off of the fucking building, and the wind carries him right back up to the top.The second drunk says, let me try and leaps off the building and falls to the sidewalk, internal organs splattering everywhere, blood gushing like a fountain. The first drunk laughs and the third drunk looks at him and says, you know, Superman, you can be a real bastard when you're drunk."
“Better,” Frank says, relaxing slightly, both of his eyes open as he looks at Mikey. “Tell me another, but down here.”
“I don’t know any more,” Mikey says, folding forward so he can unlace his boots. “That’s it.”
Frank snorts dismissively. “Bob would know more jokes.”
Which is probably true, but all Mikey does is pull off his boots, letting them thud to the floor, then lies alongside Frank, sharing his pillow. He stares, taking in the lines at the corner of Frank’s eyes, the dark shadows and how Frank’s bottom lip is bitten and dry. Upping his distraction technique, Mikey says, “Would Bob do this?”
Mikey rests his hand on the front of Frank’s pajama bottoms, palm over his dick. He doesn’t move his hand, just remains still as Frank swallows and uses his good leg to thrust up the tiniest amount, as if unable to help himself as he says, “He might.”
“Yeah?” Mikey says, and curls his fingers over the waistband of the pajamas, his fingertips brushing against skin. “Bob would jerk you off? Wrap his hand around your dick, his strong, calloused drummer’s hands?”
“Yes,” Frank gasps out, obviously turned on.
“Stay still,” Mikey commands, directly in Frank’s ear. Pressing the heel of his palm against Frank’s dick, Mikey nips at his earlobe. “So you’re telling me that Bob would come here, lie on your bed and touch you like this?” Again, Frank thrusts up but Mikey doesn’t move his hand, trapping Frank against the bed. “I said, still.”
Punctuating that with another nip at Frank’s earlobe, Mikey keeps talking. “Or do you want him to do more, Frankie? Do you want him to fuck you with his fingers and tongue? For him to hold your legs apart as he licks until you’re slick and sloppy, spit soaked so he can add fingers, maybe his thumbs.”
Frank whimpers low in his throat and his eyes flutter closed, colour staining his pale cheeks. Mikey presses the advantage, keeping Frank still while breaking him apart with words.
“Or do you want to wait until you can wrap your legs around his back? Cling on as he fucks you so hard that all you can do is lie there and take it. You want that don’t you? Bob fucking you, making you hold onto the headboard and try to bite back your screams.”
Frank tries to arch his back, his head pushed into the pillow and mouth open, his voice rough when he says, “Mikey, please.”
Mikey delivers his killer blow, licks along Frank’s jawline and then says, “You want him to fuck you with Jamia watching, for her to be there as you scream into her mouth, for her to be there when Bob pulls out, joining her hand with his, pushing their fingers into you when you’re slick and fucked open.”
Frank moans, gasps, “Jesus, fuck,” and the crotch of his pajama’s darkening under Mikey’s fingers. Breathing hard, Frank opens his eyes and turns his head, looking at Mikey. “Bastard.”
“I was entertaining you,” Mikey says simply, and kisses Frank on the mouth. “And for my encore you get to watch.”
Hands going to his belt, Mikey lies on his back.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 02:28 pm (UTC)before they morph into something like Mikey/Pete/Ashlee/Andy/Rubber duck
::raises hand:: I'd read that. Um. Just for the duck, I swear. Wait, that doesn't improve things.
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:35 pm (UTC)Can you imagine Frank being laid up like that? He'd be enough to drive anyone to distraction.
I'd have that welcome mat too, and that Mikey. Sadly none are in my life.
I'm now trying to work out the logistics of Pete/Mikey/Ashlee/Rubber duck. Oh man, the duck is Pecker! It has to be. It explains so much!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 02:45 pm (UTC)But cute and hot and I love the Superman joke, ahahaha.
WIPs, OMG. It seems like everything I write becomes a WIP these days. It is very disheartening. I need to do another WRISOMIFU to complete one of them, at the very least. I hope to write this weekend again- it is free so there should be ample time. *hopes*
I forgot all about your Bob the preschool teacher WIP! The snippets you shared were cute.
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:50 pm (UTC)I figured that Mikey would know a few Superman jokes *g*
I think you'll finish something this weekend. I have that Kimberly will finish a story feeling in my bones. Or it could be Adam's frustration bleeding across the ocean.
Bob the teacher is the most complete thing I have by a mile. If I actually cracked on with it it could be done within a week, and yet, no.
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Date: 2010-08-19 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 08:38 pm (UTC)People that can are crazy, and also kinda awesome.
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Date: 2010-08-19 04:39 pm (UTC)he's probably bled to death by now
Yay!
The story was lots of fun! Mikey tells such silly jokes :-)
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Date: 2010-08-19 05:40 pm (UTC)Hey!
The one joke he posted on twitter was ridiculous, so I suspect this is about his level. I'm surprised you read tbh, what with the total lack of Gerard and implied het.
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Date: 2010-08-19 06:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 08:36 pm (UTC)And in this reality up for some threesome fun :D
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:41 pm (UTC)I also have WIPs now, I am amazed to find! o.O
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:43 pm (UTC)Having WIPs is weird, and that's not even counting the solid ideas I have that I have plots for but no words yet.
You should have WIPs! Lots of them!
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:52 pm (UTC)That preschool one sounds great. :)
And this! This is great too!
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Date: 2010-08-19 02:58 pm (UTC)I've been writing the pre-school one for nearly a year now. I really need to buckle down and just finish it.
Thank you!
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Date: 2010-08-19 03:30 pm (UTC)I need all of these in my life. ALL OF THEM! ESPECIALLY THE MIKEY/GABE! \o/
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Date: 2010-08-19 03:33 pm (UTC)The Mikey/Gabe was pretty much hashed out in comments a few posts back. It should be a quick write. I hope. Of course now I've said that I'll probably post in two years time.
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Date: 2010-08-19 03:44 pm (UTC)Every time I read this I love it more. Seriously. The first part is so wonderfully comfortable and familiar, and the second part hits so many of my kinks in so few words you don't even KNOW how much I love this. So, so wonderful. And the JOKES. [snickers] Thank you, honey.
[smushes]
And, you know, if any of those prompts just caught your imagination, don't feel like you have to deny yourself... [innocent]
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Date: 2010-08-19 03:50 pm (UTC)You give good prompts ♥
Mikeyway, has a career as a stand-up comedian, y/y?
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Date: 2010-08-19 04:12 pm (UTC)::whistles innocently::
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Date: 2010-08-19 04:26 pm (UTC)Oh. My. Fucking. God.
That is one hot image.
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Date: 2010-08-19 04:58 pm (UTC)i also look forward to reading all your WIPs! i'm pretty sure if i wrote all mine out in a list like that it would just make me want to cry, haha. /o\
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Date: 2010-08-19 05:41 pm (UTC)This is a long list for me. But I want all your WIPs, even without knowing about them!
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Date: 2010-08-19 05:07 pm (UTC)Also, I want every single one of your WIPs. All of them! Particularly the Mikey/Gabe...
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Date: 2010-08-19 05:43 pm (UTC)Jamia so gets home in time! She's a smart lady after all.
I want that machine that sucks the ideas out of your head and produces fic. It would make life so much easier.
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Date: 2010-08-19 07:49 pm (UTC)and I will indeed giggle fondly because WIPS...I has them...there's several started and even more in my head that want to be written...gakkkkkkk
will come back and comment on ficlett when I get back from grabbing my work check
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Date: 2010-08-19 08:31 pm (UTC)My list of WIPs is tiny, people should laugh.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-08-19 10:12 pm (UTC)also, your 4 wips is SO CUTE. *pinches your cheek* *gets slapped for it* i think i've got like 60something? i know i've got 18 mikey/gerard, most of my h/c table, and i've got 10 days to write 25 pete/mikey/gabe, so i wrote like 15-half fics on the plane a few days ago and i have to transcribe and finish them.
also also, i would totally read a mikey/pete/ashlee/andy.
also also also, i really want both saviour!ways and gritty hooker fic. i think i have a thing for people having shitty times. i'm a bad person, i suppose.
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Date: 2010-08-19 10:50 pm (UTC)I'm seriously impressed and intimidated at your 60 plus WIPs. Also looking forward to each one.
Mikey/Pete/Ashlee/Andy would be hot, also kind of strange, but yeah, hot. There would be a lot of hair action going on.
I've been writing gritty hookerfic today. Mikey is a little fucked up so Frank's trying to get him to eat. Which just shows I'm a bad person too.
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Date: 2010-08-20 04:33 am (UTC)Also, I might have read the first sentence of your story list as Bob HOOKING with Mikey. Uhm. What?
no subject
Date: 2010-08-20 07:39 am (UTC)Starry eyes. I love you.
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From:no subject
Date: 2010-08-20 09:33 pm (UTC)DO WANT! I love hurty!ryan fic
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Date: 2010-08-20 10:18 pm (UTC)Him and Mikey are always getting it in my stories.
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Date: 2010-08-21 06:49 am (UTC)Also, the ficlet. Ngh, Mikey should consider a career in phone sex or something. The fantasy was insanely hot. Also, in my mind, as soon as Frank's cast is off it becomes reality. y/y?
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Date: 2010-08-21 09:47 am (UTC)Mikey the phone sex operator. Hmmmmmm.
Oh, it so becomes a reality. Frank's leg would be hurting and he'd be constantly walking that line of trying to do too much at once and Jamia would be frustrated because maybe the cast is off but that doesn't mean Frank can go from 0 to 100 within a day and after a long day where he's done too much and his leg is obviously throbbing but he won't slow down she calls in the reinforcements.
Mikey at first because he's awesome at just getting Frank to stay still and talking so Jamia can make other arrangements. So Mikey comes over and he'd give Jamia a kiss on the cheek and tell her he's got this, and then will spend the next half hour watching bad TV with Frank who's secretly glad of the downtime, because his leg is *really* hurting now.
Meanwhile Jamia is talking to Bob downstairs and they're a little awkward at first because sure they're friends but they've never done anything like this before even though the attraction has always been there between them all. And she considers dressing up, but in the end decides not to because this is Frank and she knows he loves her always, and she takes hold of Bob's hand and they go upstairs to the bedroom.
It doesn't take long for Frank to catch on when Bob and Jamia walk into the room and start making out, all the awkwardness gone, and Mikey slithers off the bed when Bob steers Jamia back and she ends up lying next to Frank, so he's got a close up view as Bob takes off her bra and puts his hands down her pants, and at her urging to go ahead slips two of his fingers inside of her, gently rubbing them against her clit before pulling out and offering his hand to Frank, who instantly sucks on Bob's fingers.
Which of course is foreplay as Jamia shimmies out of her clothes and undresses Bob as Frank continues to suck on Bob's fingers, spit running down his chin and eyes closing, then Bob gives Jamia a look and together they undress Frank, leaving him totally naked, his legs spread and unable to stop his whimpers as they bite at his neck and stroke down his sides and then Jamia grabs the lube, drizzling it on Bob's fingers and then kissing Frank, taking in his gasp as Bob pushes in his first finger.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-08-22 04:02 am (UTC)I love hearing about other people’s wip’s. It makes me feel better about having a huge folder of half finished/barely started fics.
(P.S. Bob would be the most awesome preschool teacher – all gruff on the outside but secretly his fridge is covered with his kid’s drawings and finger paint picture)
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Date: 2010-08-22 10:07 am (UTC)Frank and Mikey really work for me. I love the BFF aspect and I think they mesh really well. I have heart-eyes for them always. Which you'd think would make me write them more often, but no.
I love hearing about WIPs, too. There's something magical about all those potential stories, just waiting to be shaped into life.
all gruff on the outside but secretly his fridge is covered with his kid’s drawings and finger paint picture
Yes! You've got exactly how I'm writing him. He loves his kids though outwardly it doesn't look that way at times, and they love him in return, when he has to wear his wrist braces they give him a gold star sticker for being brave :D
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