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ktheist · 4 years

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(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Note

ian + mickeys neck (was thinking of the drunk ian fic and wondered if you would be interested in pursuing this idea further?) <3

anon i am CRYING thank u so much for this!!!! i have been feeling like i need to make my contribution to the “mickey’s neck” discourse for a while lmao and this is my opportunity (esp bc ian holding mickey in the 11x12 stills wrecked me)

in the spirit of following up 11x10 i decided to write this based on an amazing post @mickey-millagher made/a prompt that @pombby sent me about ian teaching mickey to swim at a public pool during lockdown at some point early s11- i hope u enjoy<3

(this is the tiniest notch steamier than what i usually write but it isn’t smutty fyi- tw for descriptions of choking😌)

There was no one at the park— the air hung heavy and humid over the empty picnic tables and wooden benches that punctuated the fields of dying grass. As much as people on the Southside were definitely not taking any part of this lockdown shit seriously, it didn’t surprise Ian how silent the public park was— there was still a scarcer number of people out on their stoops or lounging on street corners this summer. Ian guessed that the few people who didn’t think that this was a hoax realized that this COVID shit was serious enough that they couldn’t afford healthcare if they got it, or whatever— but regardless, that meant that this Southside summer was weirdly stagnant somehow, and felt different from the noisy and crowded rhythms of summers past.

It was the late morning, just as the air started heat like a convection oven as the sun rose over the skyline— and Ian had his heart set on teaching Mickey to swim today. The conversation had come up last night at dinnertime, when Debbie was complaining about the heat wave— and they had all started reminiscing about the rickety, tin-sided pool they used to put up in the backyard years ago until Carl had taken a hatchet to it when he was 11 when he was trying to tear it down. Sitting next to Mickey at the kitchen table, thighs pressed where their chairs were scooted close together, Ian had suddenly remembered his words from their road trip to the border, years ago now:

“You could try swimming across the border.”

“I never learned how, man.”

And he’d immediately opened his mouth, not catching the words before they moved from his brain to his mouth, and asked Mickey in the middle of the dinnertime chatter: “Hey Mick, did you ever actually learn to swim?”

It was funny, and arbitrary, and stupid; they were married now, but for some reason this small fact about Mickey, the fact that he used to not know how to swim and by now he might have learned without Ian’s knowledge, made something warm pool in Ian’s stomach. He’d known Mickey, and had been itching to be closer and closer to him, for a full decade—and there were still so many things that he didn’t know. And this was proof, this question that Ian still didn’t have the answer to about some weirdly fundamental aspect of Mickey’s identity— he was always going to want to keep asking things about Mickey. And he was always going to get to.

Mickey had looked him with daggers in his eyes, then flickered a defensive glance at all the smirks growing on Ian’s siblings’ faces. “Fuck you. I was doing plenty of other shit in Mexico, didn’t really get the chance to lounge on the fucking beach.”

Ian had reached under the table and placed a hand on Mickey’s knee—a peace offering, an apology for whatever Mickey-can’t-swim quips Carl and Lip would inevitably think up as a low blow the next time they all butted heads at breakfast time— but as the chatter about backyard pools and heat waves continued at the dinner table, Ian felt an idea stirring.

Which is why the next morning he’d woken his husband up by pressing a tender kiss to his jawbone, both of their skin damp and clammy from the heat in the stuffy bedroom, and whispered into his neck:

“I wanna try something today.”

Mickey’s mind had immediately veered in… other directions, his eyebrows raising in vaguely disappointed disbelief when Ian had explained his idea to go to the public pool and teach Mickey to swim with an exuberant grin on his face; but after some very enticing morning persuasion that had a lot to do with the fact that Mickey was still half asleep while Ian had pressed kisses down his spine and dragged him out of bed and handed him a pair of swim trunks, now they were at the public pool in the nearest park at midday, with Ian leading the way and Mickey dubiously and sleepily straggling behind him.

Ian slid open the lock on the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool, the same pool that was usually crawling with groups of teenagers smoking weed and toddlers in floaties who were sticky with melted ice cream on a summer day like today. And maybe he was just all hopped up on nostalgia, but Ian was feeling cheerful— there was a lightness to the blinding summer sunshine, radiating through him as it pooled on his skin, that made him feel weirdly exhilarated and giddy about teaching Mickey to swim in this grimy Southside pool, just because he could.

“I still can’t believe you never learned how to swim.” Ian said it over his shoulder as he strode through the gate, holding it open for Mickey.

Mickey just flipped him off, following behind him and setting down two towels and the 6-pack of beers he’d grabbed from the fridge as they’d shuffled out the door minutes before. Ian grinned. He knew the beers would be warm and syrupy in minutes—the air was muggy and humid, without any hint of a breeze for relief. Ian could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of his t-shirt; he peeled it off as he walked over the sunwarmed concrete towards the pool’s edge, crumpling the shirt and throwing it on top of the pile with the beers and the towels. Mickey was hesitant, not following Ian to the border of the water just yet.

“Seriously. I can’t count the number of times I was shoved into our bacteria-infested backyard pool when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure that Frank tried to drown me in there at one point.”

Mickey just shrugged noncommittally, his fingers slack around the bottom hem of his shirt and his eyes zeroing in on the pool of water. Ian thought Mickey would say something in reply— but the only sound in the air was the faint shouting of kids playing a basketball game the street over.

Holy shit. Ian had been so buoyant and excited about his nostalgia-fueled idea of going to the public pool on a summer day and teaching his husband to swim, dragging Mickey out of the house without a second thought, that he hadn’t realized it until now— Mickey was scared.

Ian swallowed down the grin that was threatening to overtake his face— one he knew that Mickey would immediately notice and hate, because he it drove him crazy when people gave him shit in vulnerable moments like this, when Mickey couldn’t do something. So instead Ian kept talking, hoping his chatter would loosen some of Mickey’s nerves.

“Didn’t you and your brothers ever go down to the other pool over on Trumbull?”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes then, raising an annoyed eyebrow. “Clearly not.”

And, okay. This was understandably bringing up some childhood shit. Ian tried to snap Mickey out of his head— he strode over to where Mickey was standing, a good six feet from the poolside, and snaked a hand onto the back of his neck, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a grounding and comforting touch that would drain the trepidation from Mickey’s defensive stance.

“One summer Debbie was so afraid of getting drowned at the public pool that she learned how to hold her breath for 4 minutes.” Ian grinned at the memory of Debbie dunking her head in a tub of water in the kitchen, making him and Lip time her. “Honestly, it was probably for the best you never went to the public pool. It was a shit show.”

Mickey scoffed, but the lightness was back in his eyes. “If I knew how to swim back in the day I probably woulda been the one doing the drowning.”

Ian barked out a laugh— and why did he immediately turn back into his 15-year-old self, with a god-awful crush on Mickey Milkovich, whenever Mick said shit like that? He pressed his lips into a smile, squeezing Mickey’s shoulder once more for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, king of the Southside. You ready to get in the water?” Ian’s hand trailed down from its grasp on Mickey’s shoulderblades, dropping to encircle Mickey’s wrist and guide him towards the water.

Mickey immediately recoiled, yanking his hand from Ian’s hold and taking a step back, squinting and holding up a hand to block the bright rays of sun out of his eyes now that he wasn’t standing in Ian’s shadow.

“Fuck d’you mean? I’m not just gonna fucking hop in there and drown. You gotta show me what to do.”

Ian grinned again, without being able to hold it back. He knew what Mickey was like when he was afraid of something— defensive and grumbly and avoidant to touch. He rolled his eyes. “Can’t really teach you to swim when we’re not in the water, Mick. C’mon.”

Ian walked over to sit on the edge, then slid his torso down into the pool. The water was lukewarm and tepid, barely providing any relief from the sticky air— but it felt nice. Ian let out a little breath of relief from the heat as he waded over to the shallow end. Mickey was still standing by the mound of the towels the ground, watching him warily. Ian raised his eyebrows.

“You coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey aggravatedly pulled off his shirt, tossing it behind him— sunrays bounced off of Mickey’s pale skin, owing mostly to the fact that Mickey had barely left the house in the last few weeks because of their prolonged “honeymoon.” He slowly walked to the very edge of the pool and, in a movement that made Ian’s heart grow ten sizes, hesitantly dipped a toe into the water like a cat trying to paw at something. A corner of Mickey’s mouth flickered downwards almost imperceptibly, a worry line sprouting on his forehead.

“I don’t know, man.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. Leave it to Mickey Milkovich, shit-talking king of the Southside, to be afraid of the shallow end of a public pool. Ian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, still smiling like a sappy motherfucker at his painfully endearing husband.

“C’mon Mick, just stand here with me first.” Ian was waist-deep in the shallow end, the water pressing against his upper thighs— he knew that at this height the water would be at Mickey’s waist, right where his swim trunks met his hipbones.

Mickey’s brows furrowed from where he was still perched on the concrete lip of the pool ledge, his two feet firmly rooted. “Explain what I gotta do first. To swim, or whatever.”

Ian blew out a breath, still grinning like an idiot. “It’s not that hard, Mick. You just gotta circle your arms and circle your legs. But you have to get in the water first.”

Ian treaded over, pushing through the water to where he could rest his upper arms on the edge of the pool beside where Mickey was standing, staring up at him with what he hoped was a convincingly pleading face. Mickey’s eyes were still fixated on the water, lapping at the pool’s edge from where Ian had rippled through it. And suddenly Ian had an idea.

With a teasing grin, he reached a wet hand out from the water and encircled it around Mickey’s ankle, splattering the concrete with drops of water. Mickey immediately jerked like an electric shock had jolted through his body.

“You gonna come in, or do I have to make you?”

Mickey tried to shake his ankle out of Ian’s grasp, but Ian had hold of him with an iron fist. Mickey leaned over and tried to swat at Ian’s arm without losing his balance on the pool’s edge.

“Cut that shit out right now, Gallagher.”

Ian just grinned, squeezing Mickey’s ankle like he was about to tug him in. “Come on, Mick.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and, just as Ian had imagined he would— he started to freak the fuck out.

“Ian stop that shit right now, I swear to god I will fucking murder you if you—”

They were at the 6-foot marker in the pool, right where it was deep enough for Mickey to stand on the very tips of his toes; and with this knowledge, Ian tugged at Mickey’s calf— causing him to falter, his arms circling like a cartoon character before he lost his balance and crashed into the water on his side.

Ian immediately placed his hands on Mickey’s hips, standing him upright before his head even fell under the water— but Mickey was still sputtering and splashing, like the drama queen that he was. Once Mickey regained his composure and realized he was easily standing on the bottom of the pool, his head bobbing just above the water, he swiftly splashed healthy burst of water into Ian’s face, the chlorine stinging his eyes and nose.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!”

Ian coughed at the water that had shot up his nose, but immediately splashed Mickey back—and then, because there wasn’t any way this whole pool situation was going to go anyways, he and Mickey were immediately engaged in a life-and-death splash battle, circling each other in the middle section of the pool.

Ian was laughing so hard he felt a stitch in his side— and Mickey was finally grinning again, water dripping down his cheeks and clinging to his hair. After a few minutes Ian threw his hands in the air in surrender, the water cresting at his shoulders.

“Truce!”

Mickey splashed one more surge of water at Ian’s chest for good measure, grinning like a kid in a candy store— then he took a step closer to Ian, eyebrows raised.

“Truce.”

Ian beamed down at him, pressing a quick peck to the top of his damp hair. “Sorry for throwing you in the pool.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“But in my defense, it had to happen eventually.”

Mickey shoved him squarely in the chest, taking a step back. “You ruined the fucking truce.”

Ian gave a smug smirk. “Do you wanna learn how to swim, or not?”

Mickey flicked another burst of water at him, just enough to cast a slew of droplets onto Ian’s cheeks. “Alright. Get coaching, Michael Phelps.”

Ian hadn’t really considered how he was actually going to teach Mickey to swim— but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He tried to think back to when Lip had taught him how to tread water, on an equally as sweltering day in the backyard pool, when the yard was packed with lawn chairs and drunk neighbors and smelled of ashy barbeque smoke.

“Okay. So you’ve gotta move your arms in circles, kinda, to stay floating. And your legs too.”

Ian swam over to the deeper end of the pool, just an arm’s length away from where he and Mickey’s feet could touch, and tried to demonstrate how to tread water. “I feel like the easiest way for you to learn is just by doing it. C’mere.”

Mickey looked at him reluctantly, brows furrowed again in an outward display of his bundled nerves. “No fucking way.”

Ian sighed in exasperation. “C’mon, Mick. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you drown, you can hold on to me the whole time.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow— but then hesitantly took a step towards Ian, the water reaching up to the bottom of his chin.

“Alright, good. Now step where you can’t reach and try to tread water like I did.”

Mickey stepped forward again, then started to circle his arms under the water— and he was doing great, for a second, before he seemed to get too in his head about the mechanics and started to grit his teeth.

“Little help here, Gallagher?”

Ian grinned and stepped forward. “Here, you can hang onto me.” He stood where Mickey could reach and grab onto his shoulders if he needed to— but Mickey seemed to regain his confidence, and was starting to steadily, if a little bit clumsily, tread water.

He kept it up for a while, until Ian could see that he was overexerting himself— waving his arms under the water with a little too much gusto, brows furrowed and his teeth digging into his lower lip in concentration.

“Mick, you’ve got it. Chill out for a sec.”

Ian reached an arm out, a branch for Mickey to grab on to— because he had been joking before, yes, but he really didn’t want Mickey to fucking drown— and when Mickey grasped onto it, Ian pulled Mickey towards him in the water, kicking backwards so they were suspended in the deeper end of the pool with Mickey clinging to Ian’s neck.

Mickey looked nervous as Ian veered them towards deeper waters, his eyes darting from side to side where they were floating, his fingers digging into the back of Ian’s neck— and Ian smirked at how freaked out he seemed, standing only a few feet from where they could both confidently stand on the tiled pool bottom. But Mickey didn’t resist, or try to propel himself back into the shallower waters— he let himself cling on to Ian, fingers interlaced behind the tops of Ian’s shoulders, as he kept them afloat. Ian laughed softly in a warm, wet gust across Mickey’s cheek. “You okay?”

He could feel the heat radiating off of Mickey’s body, squeezing up close against him— and Ian couldn’t help it, the wave of fondness that came over him as he looked down at where Mickey was pressed against his chest; trusting Ian to keep them above the water, trusting Ian enough to go along with his stupid plan to teach him to swim in a public pool on a random morning just because Ian wanted to. Ian couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach at this simple moment, at the two of them bobbing in the pool— at teaching his husband to swim, something Mickey’d never gotten to do as a kid but something that they had the rest of their lives to do together.

“Maybe we could teach Franny to swim next summer. If we have our own place.”

As he said it, Ian hoped that Mickey could see the flood of hopes that he had for them in his eyes— that he wanted a place with a pool, and a balcony, maybe a backyard, and maybe even a fucking garden—he’d always wanted to grow tomatoes. More than anything he wanted to build something sturdy, that could stand up to whatever ground would inevitably shift beneath them in the years to come— he’d been thinking about that a lot these days, especially with all of the pandemic shit that had pulled a rug out from under this entire neighborhood.

Mickey’s gaze flickered up from where it had been boring a panicky hole in Ian’s sternum, meeting Ian’s eyes at the phrase “our own place”— and Ian instantly knew that he got it, that he could see the dreams that Ian was building for the two of them right in front of their eyes. That after months and years of obstacles and chaos and other voices infiltrating their heads, now it was just them— now it was just Ian and Mickey, clinging to each other and drifting through the calm, chlorinated waters.

And maybe it was their proximity, or the intensity Ian knew he was pouring out in his gaze, but instantly the air between them shifted as Mickey looked up— starting to hang heavy like the press of the humidity in the air. Their faces were centimeters apart— and Mickey’s lips parted slightly, his eyes now cast downward at Ian’s lips. Ian could smell the sweet, warm beer on Mickey’s breath, mingling with his own; he looked at Mickey, whose arms were still wrapped around his neck, water dripping down his face from the hair that was fanning over his forehead—and Ian just had to pull him in, had to place a hand in the damp hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck and tug him closer, backing them against the tiled wall of the pool.

Ian could taste the faintest bitterness of chlorine on Mickey’s lips, from the water droplets lingering there, as he took Mickey’s bottom lip between his teeth. Mickey’s hands were still limply wrapped around Ian’s neck, keeping himself afloat— even though Ian had backed them against a wall in the shallow end of the pool again, and Mickey could probably touch his toes to the ground if he wanted to.

Ian raised his hand from under the water, wanting Mickey closer— he pressed a hand to the side of Mickey’s neck, slick with water, and slid a thumb over Mickey’s collarbone, pressing down with the pad of his fingers.

And Mickey gave a little involuntary noise from the back of his throat, sending a jolt down Ian’s spine.

Ian’s hands circling Mickey’s neck was definitely not a foreign concept while they were kissing— it was something they did a lot these days, especially as their hours in bed had taken a turn from the crazed, I-missed-your-body-so-fucking-much sex they were having in the beginning days of being in prison together and those early months after Mickey had gotten released— but both in prison and during this fucking quarantine, they’d gotten a bit more experimental, and a bit more reckless—especially before Ian had gotten his warehouse job and they were still on their structureless “honeymoon,” spending entire days lounging in bed.

It was those days of lazy, languid kisses, after years and years of already knowing each other, that Ian realized that he was maybe a little bit obsessed with Mickey’s neck. He’d always joked about liking Mickey’s legs, and that was true too (if he was being honest, there wasn’t a part of Mickey’s body that didn’t make his blood run hotter)— but the first time Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand and put it up to his neck while they were tangled together, pressing down until Ian’s hand covered most of his throat, Ian knew that they’d opened Pandora’s fucking box.

By this point, Ian’s hand was pretty much always on Mickey’s neck at some point while they were fucking or even just making out— if he was being totally honest, Ian’s hand was on Mickey’s neck more often than not in lots of contexts these days, once they realized how much they both loved it. But there was something about this current moment, of Mickey wantonly desiring a point of contact there, right now, while they were very randomly and decidedly making out while floating in a public pool on a lazy weekday afternoon, that made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and rush quicker through his veins.

Ian let the pads of his fingers creep up the velvet skin of the side of Mickey’s neck, pressing a little deeper, a prelude— he could feel the vibration of Mickey’s heartbeat starting to flutter from where Mickey was still pressed against his chest, still clinging to his neck in the water.

They’d already extensively discussed limits and everything, Mickey would tap his wrist twice if shit got too intense— but even with that in mind, Ian pulled apart from Mickey for a second, trailing ghosts of kisses up the side of his neck and nipping at the underside of Mickey’s jaw. Mickey stretched his neck back and gave a little involuntary sputter of a moan, bubbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. He fisted a hand in Ian’s hair, at the nape of his neck, and leaned forward again to press their lips together with more fervor.

Ian pulled back again, his upper back resting against the concrete lip of the pool. Mickey looked disheveled and wrecked, half-dry chlorine-crusted hair sticking up from where Ian’s other hand had been cradling the back of his head, his blue eyes gleaming and catching the over-bright summer light. Mickey was still clinging his arms around Ian’s neck, holding on— they were in a fucking pool, and Mickey still couldn’t really fucking swim yet— and even though they were standing in a place where Mickey’s toes could certainly touch the ground, the whole thing felt weirdly insular and intimate, like they had to cling to each other.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, like he was daring him to keep going.

Ian leaned forward, breathing heavily into Mickey’s mouth, but not pressing their lips together yet—and he reached a hand up again, against Mickey’s tender skin. Mickey’s legs were wrapped around Ian’s hips now, locked like a vice to keep himself upright in the water— and he pressed a little harder, gently pulsing at the sides of Mickey’s neck, in tandem with their lips pressing together over and over again as the warm waters surrounded them—the whole thing, the whole combination, made Ian feel indescribably floaty and weird and warm and blissed out; his skin stinging like ice and fire at every point of contact, electricity zapping his nerve endings wherever his fingertips met Mickey’s skin. Mickey fisted his hand harder at the back of Ian’s hair, nodding slightly—and they were definitely not going to fuck here, in the filth of a Southside public pool, but this insular closeness, the knowing what they both wanted to right now, was equally as thrilling and fulfilling to Ian in the moment. He could almost feel his own heart beating, reverberating as it pressed against Mickey’s chest, vibrating straight through Mickey and back to him as they clung to each other in the water.

Mickey’s body was thrumming, letting out little gasps of breath between kisses and touches—and Ian pulled back and dragged his lips down the side of Mickey’s neck, inhaling the sunwarmed skin. Fuck. He was never, never going to get enough of this.

Later, they’d dragged their water-heavy limbs back through the still summer streets to the Gallagher house, their skin pink and their bodies exhausted from soaking up the sun— and they’d collapsed into bed, feeling the dried chlorine coating their skin.

Ian reached a hand up, rubbing a thumb over Mickey’s cheek, their bodies pliant and fatigued— and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me teach you how to swim.”

Mickey had smirked. “Yup, that was definitely the only highlight of today. Swimming.”

#a fluffy premise AND ian being obsessed with mickey’s neck??#what more could u want #*blows kiss to elias and stella* for u #also yes i did have a word document on my computer titled ‘neck fic’#what about it #ty for the prompt anon this was truly an experience to write #ily<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm #gallavich fanfiction #cw choking

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quellmythirst · 3 years

Text

Summer Days and Summer Nights Part 7

Summary: Living in the city can get pretty boring, your hoping that this season is more interesting than the last. Although living in a tiny flat with your little brother certainly isn’t helping matters.

Characters: You (reader) x Billy Russo. Cooper.

Warnings: Kinda Angsty, Idiots. Adorable Brothers .Don't think I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1.6k+

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5} {Part 6}

We’re in it now Babes. If you are under 18 DNI. Anyone under 18 can please FUCK OFF NOW. This ain’t for you. I do not consent to my works being copied, shared or rewritten. But feel free to rebagel and criticise me.

Notes: Dudes, my dudes. This is getting away from me and taking on a life of its own. I think "yeah, I know where this is going" and then Cooper and his sister take it somewhere else. Love you Xx

You don't hear from Billy for the next four days and being the reasonable human that you are. Do not. Do not stress that you were a fun girl for the weekend and fixed his Hammer problem. Your check had cleared and now he was done with you. You 100% do not fixate on that for the first 2 days. By the morning of the fourth day you're on the phone to Karen, asking her questions about him. Trying your best not to worry. He hadn’t even called you back, he didn’t seem the type to ghost you. Maybe something happened to him? What if something happened to him? No, it's fine. You’re not spiraling at all. Karen’s firm voice pulls you from the anxiety creeping up through your veins. She’s reassuring and delicate with you, in a way few others are. She knows he's a friend of Franks, that they served together in the Marines and that was about it. What help she was. You vent, filling her in on the details of the last few days and she gives it to you straight.

"He's either interested or not, you said he had to deal with Hammer. That's probably what he's doing. Why don't you go to the beach and calm down."

"Ugh - You're probably right."

"Probably? I'm always right. Get your shit and get going,"

Karen hung up on you, like she always did when you were driving her mad. You’d just finished putting your bathing suit on, when you hear a soft knock on your door.

“Yeh?”

“Hey Smalls, you doing ok? You’ve been in there a while, I heard you talking to Karen,” Coopers soft voice spoke, the voice he only used when he was worried. Wrapping your towel around your neck, worried that maybe there may still be marks on your neck. You threw a loose dress over yourself and opened the door.

“I’m alright,” you half smiled “Karen talked some sense into me,”

“Thank god someone did. I thought I might have to break down the door,”

“As if, I’m gonna head down to the beach,”

“Good idea, the sun and the surf always works it’s magic on you. Do you want some company?”

“I think I’ll be alright Coop. Thanks,” He really was a sweet brother, even if he drove you crazy sometimes. For the days you’d been locked in your room he always left meals at the door for you, not wanting to intrude, but still wanting to let you know he was there.

Snatching your rashie and board, you smile at the picture in your living room. The men were cuddled on the couch, Coop having gone straight back into Hudson's arms after speaking with you. Obviously you weren't jealous. "See ya boys, I’m leaving now,” you called from the door.

"Don't forget you promised to make dinner,"

"Yeh, yeh I'll be back before you guys die of hunger, don't forget to go to the store and grab the things on the list," you shouted back, remembering that you had promised him last week. Pleased with yourself, that you had enough forethought to make the shopping list and stick it on the fridge in hopes of reminding yourself. God, your plans are just not working out lately.

Laying back on your board you floated in the ocean. There weren't any waves today, daydreaming while the ocean gently rocked you was the next best thing. The sun soaking it's healing rays into your skin. You lay on your board thinking about the 2 days, well one day, you had spent with Billy. How it was the most carefree and happy you had felt in a long time. You needed to call him. He hadn't answered any of your texts yet, but Karen could be right, maybe he was busy. You paddled to shore, reaching into your bag to call him. Certain you would lose your nerve if you waited too long. Only to see 5 missed calls, all from him spanning the last few hours.

Your hands fumbled, brushing sand from your fingers onto yourself. You managed to unlock your phone, your fingers swiping fast to call him back. Maybe he needed your help? Thankfully, he picked up after one ring.

"Thank fuck, I was getting worried when you didn't pick up" he stammered.

"I haven't heard from you in days and you're worried?" You accused him, sounding harsher than you would've liked.

"Yeh, I was. Let me make it up to you, I'll come pick you up. Take you to dinner"

"What?" your face agape, your mind slowly processing his words.

“Let me apologise, I’ll come get you. We can talk about it over dinner,”

“Ugh- When?” You asked, not sure if he meant right now. You gripped your board under your arm, the blaze of the sunset filled your eyes and you started speed walking up the beach.

"10 minutes? What's your address?"

"I'm not at home, give me an hour,"

"How about I come pick you up?"

"I don't want to be a hassle-" you started to explain. Not really sure why he was so keen to see you after 4 days of nothing. Maybe he really had been busy, like Karen said.

"No hassle, where are you?"

"Main Beach" You sighed, realising no wasn't something he would accept. "I'll head up to the Surf Club"

"I'm not too far, I'll be there soon" he went silent for a moment.

"Anything else?" You said sarcastically, thinking maybe you shouldn't wait. No. Of course you’ll wait. Don't be stupid. He atleast deserved the chance to explain himself.

"I’m a few blocks away, Sweetheart. Don’t run off." can he read your fucking mind?

"Sure thing," you hung up the phone, trudging your way up to the surf club on the opposite side of the beach from where you were.

Sitting at a table outside the club, you waited. scrolling through your phone mindlessly. You heard the screech of rubber, when a black SUV stopped in front of where you were sitting. The front door opened and footsteps began making their way to you. Tucking your phone back into your bag, you stepped out of the table. Taking a hold of your board, you felt a warm hand wrap around your waist.

“I got that sweetheart,” Billy’s voice echoed behind you.

“Oh, thanks,” letting go of the board, you spun to face him. Your smile faded once you saw him, “My god, what happened to your face?” You asked, your hands flying to rub the cuts on his lip, eyebrow and cheek. Holding his face you brought him down to your lips, placing soft kisses on the marks. “Who did this to you?”

“Let's not talk about it here,” his low voice whispered to you, his hand on the small of your back, helping you into the car. He hopped in the driver's seat after putting your board in the back, his dark jeans hugging his legs when he sat down. The leather jacket made him look broader, more imposing against the dark leather of the seats.

“Can- can we talk about it now?” you asked, your eyes fixed on the road.

“We’ll talk at dinner ok?” he reassured you. “Sweetheart, where do you live? I’m guessin you dont wanna go out dressed like that?”

“I- yeh.” You said, looking down at your loose dress and bathing suit combo. Definitely not dinner attire. You tapped your address into the GPS. The drive only took 10 minutes, you were happy that you and Coop had managed to find somewhere so close to the beach. Billy took your hand, not saying a word, his thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand for the rest of the short drive.

“This it?” he asked, pulling up to your building.

“Yeah, that's it,” you smile up at the building, “You wanna come up? I’ll be quick,”

“You’re brother there?”

“Cooper? Yeh, probably. He lives here,” you eye him quizzically, not really sure what he was worried about. Sure Coop could be a dingus, but he always meant well.

“I think I’ll just wait, don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Just go on, I’ll wait.” he assured you, helping you get your board out of the back of the SUV “Don’t take to long,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” you assured him, you grip your board and head inside. You rushed through the door, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Very impressed that you didn’t fall back down.

"What's the big hurry?" Coop called from the couch, when the door flew shut behind you.

"Got a date! Need to get ready ASAP," Cooper just rolled his eyes at your excitement.

“Glad you’re in a better mood than before” He shouted, while you ran up the stairs, “The beach worked its magic on you.”

“You could say that,” You replied, slamming your bedroom door shut behind you.

You showered quickly, washing all the sand away that was trapped in your hair and body. Making sure you rinsed out your bathing suit before hanging it in the shower.

Stepping out of the bathroom you heard voices echoing from downstairs. Checking your phone you saw you had been in the shower longer than you thought. Draping a towel around you, you cracked the door. Hearing Billy's voice from what sounded like the front door, he must’ve got tired of waiting and followed the sand trail up the stairs.

Pressing your face through the crack you listened a bit closer, you could hear that coarse tone in Cooper's voice that told you he was angry. Fuck. Quickly drying yourself off you slid on a pair of leggings and shirt, running down the stairs to see what was going on. Unfortunately for you, your foot caught on the bottom step, toppling you over and you landed face first on the wooden floor.

{Part 8}

#Summer days and Summer Nights #billy russo x reader #Female!reader x Billy russo #Billy russo fanfic #the punisher fanfic #billy russo x female reader

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robinrunsfiction · 3 years

Text

It’s A Love Story - Part 2

Part 1

When Saturday arrived, (YN) had been so excited for her and Mikey’s birthday party, but the noise had been going on for what felt like ages and she needed a break. It wasn't like many people were talking to her, apparently Gerard's threats were even more intimidating with him in the corner keeping an eye on everything as their mom left him to chaperone while she stayed up in her bedroom, away from the teenagers.

(YN) slipped away to her room, flopping back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling when she heard a knock on the door frame. She sat up with a start and found Frank looking amused in the doorway.

"Avoiding your own party?" He asked.

"And I'll cry if I want to, or however the song goes. I dunno how Mikey got all of the outgoing genes in like the entire family. It's not really fair."

Frank laughed and nodded. "You and Gee do have that in common."

(YN) nodded. "You can come in ya know."

"I dunno what rules your mom has about boys in your bedroom," he said, padding across the floor to sit next to her.

"Oh you know you only got Gee and Mikey to be scared of," she replied, shaking her head. "What brings you up here anyway?"

"I got you a present," he said.

"Really?" (YN)'s eyes lit up and a grin formed on her face.

"Yea, umm, here," he said, pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket.

(YN) stared at it for a moment before carefully unwrapping it. Inside was a necklace with a blue sapphire charm. "Oh wow," she whispered.

"The lady at the store said it was your birthstone, but I didn't know if you'd like it," he trailed off with a shrug.

"I love it, it's so pretty!" She said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "Thanks Frank."

"Of course, happy birthday (YN)," he replied, returning the hug.

"I'm gonna guess you didn't get Mikey the same thing?" (YN) laughed as she put the necklace on.

Frank laughed. "Nah, I got him a CD," Frank replied before pausing, seemingly lost in thought. "It's kinda shitty how him and Gee scared off all the guys from you."

(YN) sighed. "I just wish they would have asked me how I felt about it first. But," she paused, drawing up every ounce of courage she could find, "as long as the guy I like keeps talking to me, it's fine."

Frank nodded before his eyes went wide and (YN) couldn’t help but laugh a little at the realization that had clearly just hit him.

"And I seem to be the only guy that's ever talking to you."

"So that would mean," she trailed off, her cheeks burning.

"For real?"

"Yea, sorry," she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I mean, I like you too, (YN)."

She was surprised, but couldn’t help but grin. "It's dangerous to have a crush on me, ya know."

"I like to live dangerously," he smirked, and (YN) had to keep from melting on the spot as the air hung thick between them.

"So what do we do now?" She asked softly.

“Well, I really wanna kiss you," he said, sliding closer to her, his hand on top of hers.

“Gee and Mikey will kill you,” she whispered as they started to lean in together.

“Then I’ll die happy," he whispered back.

“See you at your funeral,” she replied as Frank reached up and touched her cheek gently before closing the distance between them. Their lips met and (YN) had to try not to sigh, it was everything she had hoped it would be.

When they pulled back, Frank was smiling like she'd never seen before. "Was that good?" She asked.

Frank furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yea, it was really good. Wait, was that your first kiss?"

(YN) nodded and bit her lip, her cheeks going pink again. "Yea."

A smile spread across Frank's face. "You wanted me to be your first kiss?"

"Duh," she laughed lightly. "Is that weird?"

"No, it's," Frank looked like he was trying to find the words to describe what he was feeling. "Fucking awesome," he finally replied.

(YN) smiled and shook her head, before looking down at the necklace she was now wearing. "Thanks for making this a really memorable birthday."

"You deserve it," he nodded.

"We should probably go back downstairs before someone comes looking for us, or starts to suspect something."

"Yea," Frank agreed. "We'll talk soon about… us?"

"Sounds like a plan," (YN) nodded.

Frank leaned in, giving her another quick kiss before getting up and leaving her room.

(YN) sighed and flopped back on her bed again before letting out a squeal of utter glee.

The following week of school felt like the longest of (YN)'s life, all she wanted was for it to be Friday night. She and Frank had decided they were going to skip the weekly movie night with her brothers and Ray, and instead have their first date. When Friday evening finally arrived, (YN) couldn't get out of the house quick enough.

"(YN) are you still in for movie night?" She heard Mikey ask behind her. She froze, wincing, hand inches from the doorknob.

"Oh, no sorry," she replied, turning to face her brother. "I'm going to Marie's, she's having some boy problems and wanted someone to talk to."

"Oh," Mikey shrugged.

"What's going on?" Gerard asked, walking into the living room.

"Guess it's just us and Ray tonight," Mikey explained.

"Where are you going?" Gerard asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Marie's. No Frank?" She asked, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"He said he's not feeling good, stomach thing," Gerard explained.

(YN) nodded. "That sucks... Well, I'll see ya later," she said before hurrying out the door, afraid they'd somehow see through her lies.

The walk to Frank's house was quick, she'd made it countless times before, but never before in this context, which added an extra spring to her step. By the time she arrived at the door, her heart was pounding.

"Hey," he said, immediately pulling her into a hug when she walked in. "I ordered a pizza a little bit ago, is that cool?"

"Yea, of course," she nodded before kicking off her shoes and dropping her purse by the door. "Umm, so did you tell your mom that we're," she trailed off.

"She's not home yet, but yea, just so she knows not to bring it up around the guys for some reason,” he said, leading the way into the kitchen.

“That’s good,” she nodded, taking the soda that he offered to her.

An awkward silence hung between them as they stood in the kitchen. They normally would have been bantering easily, but there was now so much to talk about that neither seemed to know where to begin.

“So, umm-” Frank started, but before he could get any more words out, the doorbell rang. “Oh, hang on.”

(YN) nodded and made her way to the living room, plopping down on the couch.

"Thanks man, see ya Monday," she heard Frank say before walking into the living room with the pizza.

"Who was that?"

"Tucker. I didn't know he got a job delivering pizzas."

"Me neither, but no one tells me anything anymore," she laughed.

Frank laughed as he sat the pizza down on the coffee table in front of them. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Whatever you want,” (YN) shrugged as she picked up a slice of pizza.

Frank hummed as he perused his movie collection. “Got it,” he nodded, pulling one off the shelf, and putting it on. He settled onto the couch next to (YN) as he started the movie. After they both had their fill of pizza, Frank put his arm over her shoulder. "Is this ok?"

"Yea," she smiled, sliding over so she was resting against his side.

They sat in silence as the movie continued to play, but (YN) was only halfway paying attention. She was too busy thinking about Frank's hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the material of her shirt. She had just turned her attention back to the movie when a jump scare made her yelp and bury her face against Frank’s shoulder.

She heard the sound of the movie stop and Frank wrapped both his arms around her. "Shit, sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's ok," she replied, pulling back from him enough to look up at his face. He was definitely concerned, and it warmed her heart.

"Do you wanna watch something else?"

"No, no, it's ok, we can keep watching this," she insisted. “I was just startled.”

"Ok, he replied, pressing play again, but she stayed curled up against him and he kept both his arms wrapped around her, holding her tighter than before.

"There's another jump scare coming up," Frank said a few minutes later.

(YN) whined a little and turned to hide her face against Frank's shoulder again when he caught her chin and she looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed her while the suspenseful music blared from the TV. (YN) smiled into the kiss as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders and he pulled her closer. Tentatively he deepened the kiss, and she tried not to get too excited that she was finally, truly, getting to make out with Frank.

It wasn't until the end credits were playing that they came up for air.

"I really liked the movie," (YN) laughed.

"Me too," Frank grinned. "And I really like you."

"You'd mentioned something about that before," (YN) smiled coyly, but couldn't help but blush a little. “Umm, so can I ask something?” Frank nodded so she continued. “When did you realize that you liked me?”

Frank scrunched up his face for a moment as he thought. “I think it was kinda gradual. When we started the band and you started doing your own thing with your clothing designs, I thought that was so cool.”

“Really?”

Frank nodded. "I don't always know who or what you're talking about, but it's cool seeing you be so excited about it. But," and then winced a bit. “If I’m gonna be totally honest, umm,” he trailed off.

“What?”

“Please don’t think I’m a scumbag like Adam, but umm, at the pool party, I mean,” he rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re hot!” He finally blurted out and (YN) began to laugh.

“I don’t think you’re a scumbag, because I know you’re not gonna try to take advantage of me or anything,” she replied.

“I never would, you mean too much to me to do anything that would make you feel bad," he replied sincerely.

(YN) smiled. “That’s why I like you, ya know.”

“Hmm?”

“You always make me feel better about myself, even when I'm struggling through math class or whatever. And because when Gee or Mikey are being obnoxious and picking on me, you would always take my side," she smiled. “Plus you’re really cute and I really like watching you play guitar because it’s so cool.”

It was Frank’s turn to grin. "So are you gonna start coming to watch our practices?"

"I dunno, I don't wanna just seem like a groupie,” she laughed. “Or worse, raise my brothers' suspicions. I don't want them to freak out and kick you out of the band or something," she said, starting to pick at her nails.

"Hey," he started, taking her hands as she looked up at him. "I know you do that when you’re nervous, but whenever you're ready to talk to them, I'll be there. Until then, we'll keep things between just you and me."

"The secrecy is kinda fun, forbidden romance and all that," she smiled.

"And when it's not secret, it will be even better, because then I'll be able to do this whenever I want," he said leaning in and kissing her.

(YN) got completely lost in the amazing sensation of kissing Frank until the front door opened. They jumped apart as Frank’s mom walked into the house. She peeked in the doorway to the living room with a smile. “Hi Frank, hi (YN), don’t mind me!”

They both greeted her, and (YN) checked the time. “Ugh, it’s getting late, I should probably get home,” she said, getting up.

“Do you want me to walk you back?" Frank asked, following her to the door.

"Probably shouldn't risk it. You're supposed to be sick, remember?"

"Oh yea," he replied, sounding a bit forlorn.

"I promise I’ll try to figure out how to tell them soon."

Frank nodded. "Like I said before, whenever you're ready, I'll be right there with you. You're my girl."

(YN) felt her heart flip and her knees go a little weak as she threw her arms around Frank and buried her face against his neck. He held her close until she pulled back, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Let me know when you get home safe," he said as she headed out the door.

She waved over her shoulder, feeling like she was practically floating

Part 3

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

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star-six7 · 3 years

Text

I Never Thought They’d Get Me Here

Ray Toro x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 3 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1481

A/N: Yeah, I suck. I’m really sorry for the wait with this one, but I hope it was worth it :)

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

“Okay,” Brian said, turning around and stopping before entering the building. “I’m thinking we should split into pairs, just in case?”

“The buddy system, really?” Frank snorted. “This isn’t kindergarten, Brian.”

“I, for one, am in favor of this plan,” Gerard said, sounding nervous. Mikey moved to stand next to him without either of them saying anything.

“I’ll go with Ray. I feel like being paired up with the tallest one here is a good idea,” you stated boldly, smiling up at him. You had made up your mind on the way over. Today was the day you told Ray how you felt about him.

“Well,” Brian said glumly. “I guess someone needs to babysit Frank. Let’s go.”

Frank grinned, seemingly unoffended.

After the guides explained the rules and offered you the last chance to turn back, they brought you to the door that would lead you to what they claimed was “your worst nightmare.” You swallowed and moved next to Ray.

“Nervous?” he smiled at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You weren’t about to tell him it had less to do with the haunted house and more to do with the fact that you planned to tell him about your long-standing crush. Not yet, at least.

The last thing you saw before you were ushered into pitch blackness was an unreadable look on Ray’s face.

---

A few minutes later, you were shuffling down the path behind Gerard and Mikey with Ray by your side.

“This goddamn hallway,” Frank muttered up in the front, with Brian. “I have no idea if we’re even heading in the right direction.”

“It does feel like we’re going in circles,” Ray agreed. “Maybe we should split up and try and find the way to the next area.”

You heard Mikey and Gerard move off to your left while Frank and Brian pushed on to your right.

“Guess it’s just us now,” Ray said, somehow finding your hand in the dark. You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing.

“Yeah,” you whispered as your nerves skyrocketed. You cleared your throat. “Let’s try and beat them to the exit!”

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, you were no closer than any of the others. Speaking of which-

“Ray, do you know where the others are? I haven’t heard them in a while.”

“Me either,” he sighed. “Oh, shit!”

“What’d you find?” You were ready to get out of the dark hallway.

“I think I found a crack in the wall,” he said, sounding like he was concentrating. “Hold on-”

The section of the wall he was pushing on gave way, and you stepped out into what seemed to be an indoor maze. You took in the fake ivy-covered walls while Ray closed the door behind him.

“Wouldn’t want the others to figure out our secret,” he said sheepishly when he noticed your questioning look. “Shall we?”

And for the second time that day, you were holding hands with Ray Toro.

---

As you wandered up and down the paths with Ray, you let yourself get lost in thought. You remembered the tall, shy (and cute!), guy that Gerard had practically dragged down the basement steps for the first time, barely a week after the band went from being an idea Gerard would call you about at two in the morning to something real. You shook your head at yourself when you thought about how nervous you had been about adding a new member. You had been worried that Ray wouldn’t fit in with the long-standing, easy-going friendship you had with Mikey and Gerard. But, Gerard was right. The band needed someone who could play live. And Ray was certainly one hell of a guitarist.

In hindsight, it should have been no surprise that you and Ray became fast friends. Not only were you both dedicated, passionate, and talented musicians, but you genuinely clicked on many other levels as well. You couldn’t even count the hours spent in the Way brothers’ basement, arguing the odds of surviving your favorite horror movie scenes or building your absolute dream bands consisting of your favorite musicians. It only made more sense that you began to fall for him around the time My Chem went into the studio for the first time. You remembered staying into the early hours of the morning, hanging out on Geoff’s couch together as you pored over the previous day’s takes, eventually falling asleep on each other until Gerard woke you up to complain about his tooth.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me, or you might not be able to find your duffle bag tonight.”

You hadn’t even realized the small smile forming on your face until Ray interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up at him and saw a grin on his face that told you he was only joking.

“Wait, why would I be laughing at you?”

“Because,” he said, sounding glum. “I think we’ve been going in circles for the past twenty minutes.”

“We’ll figure it- wait, did you say twenty minutes? There’s no way this place is that big. How long have we been in here?”

Ray glanced at his watch. “25 minutes, actually.”

You swore as you sat down. “You don’t think the others got out already, do you? I mean, they would come back for us, right?”

Ray laughed as he sat down next to you, leaning against the wall of the maze. “Frankie might try it, just for shits and giggles, but Brian wouldn’t let him.”

“Thank god for Schechter,” you agreed. The conversation lapsed into silence, and you decided now was as good a time as any to test the waters. “Hey, at least we’re stuck together, right?”

Ray shifted to face you, smiling. “That’s true, Gerard would be hyperventilating by now.”

“And Brian would smack us upside the heads for getting lost in the first place.” You laughed and then took a second to regain your composure. “But, if I’m being honest… there’s really another reason why I’m glad I’m with you. Even if we might die in this maze.”

You paused, studying Ray’s face for a reaction. You thought you saw a flicker of emotion, but you couldn’t be sure. Apparently, Ray’s poker face could rival Mikey’s.

When you could tell that he wasn’t going to say anything, you continued. “I think it’s kinda obvious but… you’re my best friend. And as much as I don’t want to change everything for the worse, I feel like I can’t really hide it anymore. Ray… I think I’m in love with you.”

What you were going to say next died in your throat when Ray surged forward to kiss you. Your perception of the world around you slowly melted away as all of your senses began to hyperfocus on Ray. You couldn’t help the faint sigh that escaped you as he shifted closer, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting his other hand on the side of your face. Almost involuntarily, you scooted backwards until your back was resting against the corner you had sat down in, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

It was at about that point that you heard a familiar (and at the moment, grating) voice yelling at you from several feet away.

“Holy shit! Brian, you can call off the search party! I found them, and they’re making out, ew!”

Ray pulled away from you the second Frank had made his presence known. Though he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, you could see a blush creeping up his cheeks. If the heat in your face was any indication, you were sure you looked similar.

“Shut up, Frank,” Brian said as he rounded the corner, rolling his eyes. He turned to you and Ray and sighed, smiling. “I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Brian, are you gonna give them the ‘safe sex’ lecture? Scratch that, are you sure they know about the birds and the bees?” Frank said, and then laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Hey,” Ray said, scowling as he stood up. He offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. “You better quiet down or I’ll make sure you never get shotgun again.”

“Okay, cut it out, assholes,” Brian cut in, though there was no real anger behind it. “We need to go find the others before Gerard goes into a catatonic state of shock.”

You half-listened to Ray and Frank bicker some more as you trailed behind them, unable to keep the smile off your face. It almost felt easier to breathe with your confession off your chest.

You had almost forgotten that you were still holding hands with Ray until he stopped suddenly, waiting to get a little distance from Frank and Brian.

“Hey,” he said, smiling down at you.

“Hey?”

“I forgot to tell you. I think I love you too.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you liked and send in requests!

#ray toro imagine #ray toro x reader #mcr imagine #mcr x reader #ray toro #my chemical romance #mcr #my chem #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance imagine #bandom #bandom imagine #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #x reader #reader insert

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rpf-bat · 4 years

Text

Scream Out ‘What Will Save Us?’

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 15. Prompt: “Catharsis.”

Your band just broke up, and you’re trying to force yourself be okay with that. But, when you visit Frank, at his home in New Jersey, he advises you to be honest with your feelings. You find that he has some things to get off his chest, too.

It had been six months now, since My Chemical Romance broke up. You hadn’t done much since then, except move back to your house in New Jersey, and….sit there. For the last eleven years of your life, you’d drummed for a living, and life had moved to a frenetic pace. There was always another city to travel to, another show to play. But, now? Life was suddenly at a standstill.

You didn’t have to do anything for a living now, you supposed. The royalties alone, could probably sustain you, for years to come. Perhaps a millionaire like yourself, had no right to complain. Bullets You would, after all, kill to have Current You’s problems.

But, having lived at both extremes, you found that being functionally homeless, in a dirty van with your four best friends, was more enjoyable, than being all alone, in this spotless mansion. You hadn’t joined My Chemical Romance to make money. There were other things that mattered more - the joy of spending time with friends, who slowly became more like family. The creative fulfillment, of writing a piece of music, and then having ten thousand fans sing along with the tune. These were the things, that made your life meaningful.

These were the things, that you had now lost.

The Way brothers - who, up until recently, had felt like your own brothers - were still residing in Los Angeles. Ray, too, had stayed on the West Coast. You hadn’t seen them since the decision was made, to disband. You weren’t sure that you even wanted to.

But Frank - good, old, loyal Frank, who had known you longer than any of them - was merely a few miles down the road. Perhaps today was a good day to pay him a visit.

You called him on your cell, and he answered the phone, almost immediately. Like you, he probably had nothing better to do.

“Hey, Y/N,” Frank said in a tired voice. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Just bored, I guess. How are you?”

“Not so good,” Frank confessed. “I’ve been having, like, the worst stomachaches.”

“Oh, no,” you said sympathetically. “Do you want me to bring you some medicine?”

“The doc says I have a bacterial overgrowth of the small intestine,” Frank explained.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“It means your drug-store Pepto ain’t gonna do shit for me,” Frank chuckled bitterly. “I got prescription pills for it, but it still hurts like a bitch. Some company might take my mind off the pain, though.”

“So...I can come over?” you asked hopefully.

“Please do,” Frank agreed. “It’ll at least give me a reason, to get out of bed.”

You chose not to mention that, at two o’clock in the afternoon, you had yet to find a reason to get out of bed yourself.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Frank’s house was nowhere near the main road. You had to drive through nearly half a mile of trees, just to reach his front door. He had selected this property partially because he loved nature - and partially because hated people.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him, for trying to avoid having nosy fans show up on his doorstep. The only person who always seemed welcome on his doorstep, no matter the hour, was you.

You found him sitting on his front steps, his acoustic guitar in his hands. The melody he was playing drifted over the air, as you got out of the car, and approached him.

“Is that...Disenchanted?” you recognized instantly.

“,,,..Yeah,” Frank sighed, his inked hands ceasing their strumming. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Frankie,” you frowned. “What made you decide to play that one today?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said sadly. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you? Knowing that we’re never going to play that song onstage again?”

“Or any of them,” you noted. “If I had known that set at Bamboozle would be the last gig we ever played, I would have tried harder, to make it count.”

“You and me both,” Frank said wistfully. “But, anyway….it’s a nice day. Do you want to take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” you nodded, extending your hand to help him up. “As long as you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Frank assured you, groaning as he stood. “C’mon.”

You followed him, around the house, through his backyard, and from there, into the woods, that sat behind his home. The trees were beginning to lose their leaves, and the sky has turned overcast, and grey. Summer, you supposed, was just another thing that wouldn’t last.

“Careful,” Frank warned, “there’s a brook up ahead.”

You saw that was what he said was true. The small body of water separated the hill from the valley, in the same way that a garotte wire separated a head from a neck.

“Take my hand,” Frank offered. “I don’t want you to fall.”

You found yourself blushing, as his calloused fingers, intertwined with your own. He pulled you up onto a rock, in the center of the brook.

“Are we going to have to jump?” you guessed.

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Frank said softly, “I got you.”

He leapt from the rock, to the other side of the brook. Still holding hands, you leapt with him. Just as he’d promised, you made it to the other side safely.

“It’s just a little further now,” Frank assured you.

“What is?” you wondered.

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically. He could have let go of your hand, but instead, he kept it held tightly in his own. You didn’t mind.

“....Whoa,” you gasped, as you realized, that you’d arrived at your destination. You were at the top of a cliff. From here, you could see the whole city, stretched out before you.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Frank admired.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Thank you for bringing up here! The view was totally worth the hike.”

“I’m lucky as hell, to have a hidden gem like this, on my property,” Frank confessed. “I like to come up here sometimes, when I need to think.”

“....What have you been thinking about lately?” you asked, sitting down on a boulder.

“What happened with the band, of course,” Frank admitted, sitting down beside you. “I just….I don’t know. Gerard’s decision felt so sudden. It was like having the wind knocked out of me.”

“Yeah,” you recalled. “It was like….it wasn’t fun anymore to him, so he just….dropped it. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m not gonna pretend, that being in My Chem, was sunshine and roses all the time,” Frank acknowledged. “Sometimes, touring sucked.”

“It did,” you admitted. “I hated the early bus calls, and the jet lag, that never seemed to go away. But, I don’t know. It was worth it, to go through all that, if it meant I would end my day, on a stage with you.”

“I guess it wasn’t worth it to him anymore,” Frank frowned. “But, what can you do? You can’t continue a band, without its frontman.”

“I guess our time was just up,” you shrugged. “All we can do, is move on.”

“I know it was messing up his mental health, trying to write the new record,” Frank said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “It’s not right for us to ask him to keep doing something that’s hurting him.”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “It’s not fair, to risk causing him another relapse, or something, just because we thought the album could’ve gone somewhere.”

“But now, you and me?” Frank grumbled, lighting a cigarette, and taking a drag. “We’re not gonna go fucking anywhere.”

“We’re right back where we started,” you realized. “Stuck in the same little town in New Jersey, where it all began.”

You and Frank, had been in another local band, called Pencey Prep. That band had broken up, and then Gerard, had asked you two, to join My Chemical Romance. Even before you’d become a member, you’d known just from listening to the demos, that this band would be something special. They’d captivated every soul, in the shitty dive bar, where you’d gone to see them play.

After you and Frank joined their ranks, things began to pick up speed so quickly. Local bars, turned into clubs on the other side of the state. And then you’d attracted the interest of a major label. And then, the next thing you knew, you were playing in fucking Japan. Clubs turned into arenas. Obscurity turned into infamy. You’d done things, you never thought, you would have an opportunity to do. It was a wild ride. And it was….over now.

“It makes me want to scream sometimes,” you said honestly.

“So, do it,” Frank said, exhaling smoke.

“....What?” you blinked, staring back at him.

“Go on and scream,” he suggested. “I mean, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Nobody’s going to hear you, except for me.”

“You’re serious?” you gaped.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “Honestly? I think it would be cathartic.”

He had a point - you’d been trying to hold a lot of emotions inside you, since everything went down. Maybe what you really needed, was to let them out.

You went and stood, on the edge of the cliff, and looked out, onto the horizon. You took a deep breath, and tilted your head back.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” you cried.

You turned back, and saw that Frank was laughing.

“....Did that feel good?” he grinned.

“....Honestly, yeah, it did!” you admitted. It felt even better, to see a smile on his face, for the first time today.

“You should just...feel what you feel, Y/N,” Frank advised. “You say we’re supposed to move on, and maybe that’s the narrative the fans want to hear. Like, they’re sad that they’ll never hear their favorite band live again. And it makes them feel better, to think, well, the band members did this, because it’s what made them the happiest.”

“But, we don’t feel happy,” you argued. “At least, not all of us do.”

“What do you feel?” Frank asked seriously.

“I feel….lost,” you described. “Like, I don’t know what my next move is supposed to be. The whole world knew me as My Chemical Romance’s drummer, for pretty much all of my twenties. Now, I’m hitting my thirties and...I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Well, I know that I want to keep making music,” Frank decided. “Even if nobody else wants to hear it, I’ll play it for myself.”

“I want to hear it,” you said seriously. “Did you write something recently?”

“Yeah,” Frank said shyly, stubbing his cigarette out into the dirt. “I actually did start writing a song, the other day.”

“Play it for me,” you pleaded.

“I don’t know,” Frank blushed. “I wrote some lyrics, but….you know I don’t have the gift for singing, that Gerard does.”

“You sang in Pencey,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, that was twelve years ago!” Frank scoffed. “Who knows if I even remember how?”

“I know you can do it,” you encouraged him.

“The lyrics, they’re not all that nice,” Frank warned. “I didn’t write them to be radio friendly. I just wrote them, because I needed to get the thoughts out of my head.”

“You needed your catharsis,” you nodded understandingly.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “But….if you really want to hear it, Y/N, I’ll play it for you.”

He took out his guitar, and set it on his lap. Hesitant fingers plucked the strings. You listened, with rapt attention, as he began to sing:

Some things change but they don't get better

I'm so sick and so tired of trying to tell them that

I'll never do it, no I'll never make it alone

But pay no mind, it fades in time

Don't we all?

Someone I love threw me away

But I don't mind, no I don't mind at all

“That’s bullshit, Frank,” you interrupted. “You do mind.”

“.....Of course I fucking mind,” Frank snapped. He looked up from his guitar, and you realized, that he had tears in his eyes.

You moved over to where he sat, and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” you told him gently.

“It’s not,” Frank shook his head. “I gave my blood, sweat, and tears….my heart and my soul, to that band. I thought you and I were going to be in My Chemical Romance for the rest of our lives.”

“What, like Mick Jagger?” you tried to smile. “Rocking out, even in his sixties?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said, burying his face in his hands. “Maybe I’m the stupid one, for thinking that something like that, could last forever.”

“You’re not stupid,” you said softly. “The truth is….I wanted it to last forever, too. It was the best thing I’d ever done. And now, I don’t know what else I can do with the rest of my life, that could even come close.”

“If I decided to play that song, in front of other people, someday,” Frank asked, “would you play the drums for me?”

“Of course,” you promised. “Frank, I’d jump at the chance to get onstage with you again. You should know that.”

“I feel like I don’t know anything anymore!” Frank said vulnerably. “Everything I thought I could count on, is slipping through my fingers. I feel lost. Just like you said. And I’m aching all the time, Y/N. What if you’re the next thing, that I lose?”

“I’ll never leave you, Frank,” you vowed. “It’s been you and me, from the very beginning. I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have you in it….in one way, or another.”

“You met me when you joined Pencey. But now, for the first time in my entire life, you’re not my band mate anymore,” Frank choked. “So…what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, pulling him close. “And you could be more than that, if you wanted to.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” Frank gasped.

“Frank….,” you took a deep breath. “The truth is, that I always wanted you. I never told you how I felt, because I thought, if we got into a relationship, and broke up, it would destroy our ability to work together. But….you’re right. We’re not bandmates anymore. So, I have nothing left to lose. I...I love you.”

“You….love me?” Frank repeated, eyes wide.

“Yes.” You put it all out there. “Yes, Frank, you’re the one I love. And if you would have me, I swear to you, I would never throw you away.”

Frank surged forward, grabbing you by the collar, and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Your startled mouth was suddenly full of his tongue. It felt so good.

“....Frankie!” you gasped, pulling away. “You...you actually want me back?”

“Of course I do,” Frank breathed. “It drives me absolutely fucking crazy, that we’ve both been burying our feelings this whole time, to protect a career, that no longer exists.”

“...Then at least I still have you,” you whispered, and pulled him in again. He tasted like smoke and desperation.

His body pressed against yours as he kissed you harder, pushing you down, against the hard rocks. His hands found the buttons of your blouse.

“....Frank,” you stopped him. “We should go back down, to your house, if we’re going to do this.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “My bed is a lot softer.”

“Take me there,” you begged, laying your lips on him again.

“Oh,” Frank promised, “I’ll take you all night.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #gothtober #band member reader

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mieux-de-se-taire · 8 months

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Our Lady of Sorrows - MCR Interviews

89.5 WSOU FM Interview - 7/11/02

7:32-7:46, 21:09-21:14, 22:20-22:28

youtube

Interviewer: I don't think I’ll be able to play track 5. Gerard: Oh yeah, 5 (Interviewer laughs) Ray: Probably not that one. Interviewer: That’s alright ‘cause that’s gonna be one of those that uh, you know, kids are gonna hear this, and they’re gonna get the record, and then, track 5 is gonna be like the track that everyone loves (Gerard laughs) ‘cause it’s the one they didn’t hear. Frank: (After being asked his favorite song) I like “Knives” a lot to play, and “Vampires” is always fun. Gerard: My favorite song to play live is “Knives,” um, “Our Lady of Sorrows,” sorry. We’re using the old titles for songs, sorry. Interviewer: (Overlapping) Another name change? Gerard: Yeah, it’s called “Our Lady of Sorrows”. That’s my favorite.

Noise Theory Interview - 11/13/02

Page 2, paragraph 1

Interviewer: MCR’s music can be pretty varied, do you have a particular favorite song that you like to play live? Ray: Hmm…live I think my favorite songs to play are Our Lady of Sorrows, just because of the pure energy in the song, and Vampires, because it has quiet parts that gradually explode and it’s fun to see kids whig out when that happens.

Alternative Press #197 - 9/17-20/04

Page 6, paragraph 1

The trio recorded a demo in Pelissier’s attic. “My attic had no walls,” he says, laughing. “It was a wooden, run-down piece of crap. I had a really cheap 16-track board, and we had a bunch of crappy mics. I basically had the drums and guitars playing upstairs and ran mics down the stairs and had Gerard sing in the bathroom.” What came out of those sessions were the blueprints for “Our Lady of Sorrows” (original title: “Bring More Knives”), “Cubicles” and “Turnstiles.” “You could hear that it was something really new, and it was kind of a weird idea, but for some reason, as poorly as it was coming together, it really worked,” remembers Gerard. “And a lot of people loved the demo.”

Kerrang #1045 - 2/16/05

Page 6, paragraph 2

Gerard: We always turn the houselights up during ‘Our Lady Of Sorrows’ because it’s a special song to us.

FUSE Q&A with Bert McCracken and Gerard Way - 2/26/05

4:27-4:38

youtube

Gerard: My favorite lyric has always been my favorite lyric, and it is “oh, how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying” from ‘Our Lady of Sorrows,’ our first record. I don’t think I’ll ever top that line. It’s my favorite.

Zero Magazine Interview - December 2005

Page 5, paragraph 10 and page 7, paragraph 1

Gerard: There’s always a fear that people might overlook “I Brought You My Bullets…” Occasionally, when we play on this tour, with the exception of Vampires and Our Lady of Sorrows, we play 4 or 5 old songs, usually when the venue’s quietest - but then again, when we play the UK, those are some of their favorite songs. The UK was very accepting of Bullets, whereas America didn’t know about it. They like hearing it, they’re just not familiar with it.

Not the Life It Seems: The True Story of MCR / Kerrang #1142 - 1/17/07

Page 33, paragraphs 3-4

“We met once a week for the next four weeks to practise,” said Gerard. “It seemed that anything was possible at that point. Ray wrote “Our Lady of Sorrows” – which was the second complete song we had. It fitted because it didn’t really fit. That was something we always wanted to do – to put songs together that shouldn’t work together but do. This song was really aggro and metal – there were bits we cribbed off Helloween in it. There were a lot of bizarre references around that time.

“The genesis of the sound came from sitting in Ray’s room in his Mom and Dad’s apartment that he shared with his brothers and sitting at his computer with two guitars and just talking about the sound a lot. We were completely on the same page about it, 100 per cent.”

Page 14, paragraph 3

Initially called ‘Bring More Knives’, this was written by Ray Toro and was the second song MCR ever completed. “There were bits we cribbed off (old school metallers) Helloween in it,” says Gerard. “It came from sitting in Ray’s room in his mom and dad’s apartment, sitting at his computer with two guitars and just talking about the sound a lot.”

Kerrang #1350 - 2/9/11

Page 7, paragraph 8

Frida (Sweden): What are your favourite lyrics you have written? Are they still from ‘Our Lady of Sorrows’? Gerard: Yeah, I think so.

#mcr #my chemical romance #i brought you my bullets you brought me your love #bullets #our lady of sorrows #interviews #song interviews #not the life it seems #i usually try to find the interviews that not the life it seems draws from but i couldn't find the full quote for the kerrang 1142 one #it's probably another kerrang magazine #but i have no idea #next up is headfirst!#which is mentioned a lot #so it'll probably take a bit

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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All in the Family

Chapter 120: The Beetle at Bay

The place felt weirdly small and cramped despite the fact there were only eight teenagers inside. The air smelt strongly of coffee, and Lily got a firsthand account as she landed on top of a booth and got the hot drink splashed across her lap for it, and she prayed they came across another dorm room in the castle to get the stain out of Alice's skirt. Sirius disrupted the lace as he smacked the window, Alice was brushing sugar out of her hair from an overturned table, and they all had pink confetti in every crease of their clothes from circling golden cherubs above as they got wearily to their feet, but none immediately recognized the place.

"Well, we're in Hogsmeade," Sirius offered, nose still pressed to the rain pattering window as he recognized the street and even Scrivenshaft's down the ways a bit. There was something odd on the window though, like a huge poster of someone moving. It didn't look flashy enough to be some new advertised product. It was raining too hard, and he couldn't get a good view to see it. He'd have liked to just go over there and hear the chapter from that store, but Alice already gave the door an experimental tug to no avail. "I just don't recognize this place," the scandal in his voice was eye-roll-inducing to the four non-Marauders. Even knowing exactly how they knew these grounds so well with their monthly romps with a werewolf didn't make their pigheaded assurances they knew every inch of this place feel less annoying.

"I suppose it stands to reason they'd add a few more buildings in time," Peter offered, wandering behind the counter and offering if anyone else would like a drink. He spotted the book in the booth behind Evans, the large black volume wasn't hard to miss in this place of reds and pinks, but nobody made a move towards it straight away. That last, horrible lingering sentence as heavy in the air as the brewed beans. They'd put it off for a bit and try to breathe the strong scent instead. "Let's just hope it wasn't Umbridge getting a foot out in this place," he added in disgust.

Lily didn't think it a particularly good idea when Pettigrew began handing out the highly caffeinated coffee to everyone, those boys didn't need any extra energy, but she was also starting to feel a little fatigued herself, and they weren't even slightly showing the same. Their sleep schedules were a bit off now, this would definitely do some good.

She slunk off to a corner booth by herself, deciding to leave Alice and Frank be in this clearly coupley place as Pettigrew handed them his first batch with a smile, and she watched in fascination once more as Potter and Lupin began quietly asking Sirius Black how his side was doing. He brushed off their concern with a grin that looked natural, not at all his usual haughty demeanor.

Regulus Black went shuffling behind the counter and began browsing through some of the pastries available, while Pettigrew surprised her by placing a mug down in front of her, she still somehow accidentally kept overlooking him when he'd been walking right towards her. He called over to Regulus though and the two joined the other three, Pettigrew had even grabbed the book on his pass through the place and read out the strange chapter title. Beetle at Bay? The only beatle that came to mind had to do with Rita Skeeter, but what could she be doing back here?

All conversations were silenced as he read the horrible opening, both somehow a good and bad thing all at once. The good news, they didn't have to wait and wonder what had made You-Know-Who so happy. The bad news?

Everything else.

The ten escaped convicts, and what they'd been in Azkaban for, plus blaming it all on Sirius.

Somehow Peter had remembered from the one time Remus had come over and last tasted coffee he'd hated the stuff, and had slipped him hot chocolate instead. It was this little detail that made all the difference to him as he alternately blew and sipped on it watching Peter read that awful article, seeing the color bleeding back out of his face and how very aware all of them were it wasn't Sirius those Death Eaters had more in common with in this future.

Regulus shifted imperceptibly closer to him, hiding his own face with his long hair as he put far too much care in stirring the drink with a biscuit. The other three just chose not to acknowledge the moment and shifted restlessly in place, but the fact that none of them left the table or punched Wormtail was the best improvement he could currently have asked for.

Lily startled and nearly spilt her piping hot drink back into her lap when Frank and Alice joined her anyways, she sliding in the booth beside her and Frank across, both still cradling their own lurid pink steaming cups.

"Oh, you don't have to," she quickly tried to say, even though she wouldn't deny for a second their mere presence comforted her from thinking of that ghastly white-haired version of the kind faced girl beside her. "You can have an alone moment without me always hanging around."

"You're not bothering us," Frank scoffed at the notion.

"We've loved your company," Alice quickly agreed, "I only wish we'd talked more before all this began." She went a little red at the end though and stammered a bit, before stopping herself from saying anything else and wincing as she took a too-fast sip and scalded her tongue.

Lily sighed and looked back out the window, she knew full well why Alice and Frank had barely been on passing terms with her, the same as the rest of the school, and it wasn't because they were a year above her. Her association with Severus put her in the same bad company as those friends of his, no matter how much she begged of him to be rid of them as well, nobody in school wanted much to do with her because of him.

The most uneasy silence that had yet passed between them festered as Pettigrew read through Umbridge passing yet another ludicrous Decree, stopping the teachers from talking about anything but their own subject in light of this news. The following DA lessons that were the subsequent of this as well lit the couple's face with such pride and admiration for Neville's response that she felt almost dirty sitting next to them.

Her and Harry's father were barely on speaking terms. Her best friend made Harry's dreams and scar problem quantifiably worse, and now Ron was even voicing the thought Severus's motives were clear to no one, no matter how much Hermione continued assuring Dumbledore trusted him, that should have been good enough for everyone.

It only gave her a few more feeble rays of hope their wise headmaster must know something they didn't. He'd already been wrong before though during Harry's life, and she'd been having her own doubts long before now.

Finally Harry was setting out on his date with Cho, and Alice wasn't going to let Lily keep stewing in such thoughts that had her face puckered up like that when she should be enjoying hearing about Harry on his first date just like all of them were hoping to get a laugh at.

"Lily," she reached over and kindly put a hand on her arm, smiling wider when she didn't even attempt to shrug her off. "We're not going to stop talking to you when we get out of this, even if you do keep talking to Snape."

Lily winced for the 'if', was it so obvious even she was having doubts? She listened mournfully as Pettigrew began describing Harry and Cho's light conversation about Quidditch and watched as Frank began pouring heavy amounts of creamer into his coffee and then casually reaching over and doing so for Alice as well, then she turned back to watching Potter as he started trying to stack all of their finished drinks, and then go around fetching more cups with laughs and further challenges to his task from his friends.

"I've noticed you've been a little easier on him lately," Frank offered as he followed her wandering eye and offered a change of subject.

She snorted and immediately turned away as if she'd been doing no such thing, but Alice had a teasing smile in place now and a quirked brow to stop her from denying any such thing.

"He's still an arse," Lily said at once, summoning a biscuit to her from the counter and dunking it into her now cool drink. "Just because he hasn't gone around cursing us every time we've annoyed him during this doesn't mean he'll stop doing it the second we get back."

"Maybe, maybe not," Alice agreed passively, but there was still something in her tone that hinted she was holding back laughter at Lily's insistence of this. She hadn't told them of where she'd been that full moon night, how he'd let himself be separated from Black just to protect her like that- She flushed in frustration and gulped at her drink, unable to deny even to herself she'd been watching him quite a bit lately. So she found the arsehole had some fascinating layers and wouldn't mind dissecting him to see what some of those were now, he was still an arsehole first.

The name of this place was finally given to them, Madam Puddifoot's, how frilly, but Harry's date was quickly growing more memorable than even this quaint shop, as the poor teen blundered one disastrous answer after another with Cho, until finally she went out into the storm, in more tears than the rain could do. Regulus found himself watching in pure fascination, making a mental list of things he now at least knew not to do.

"Well, I finally don't feel so embarrassed about our first date," Frank chuckled a bit into the awkward silence.

"I told you not to worry about that darling, natural selection would have done that bird in," Alice laughed.

"What's this?" Sirius swiveled curiously in his seat, a dangerous decision as the cups were now listing precariously towards him, and he had a galleon going this would last until the end of the chapter.

"Butt out Black," Alice said quickly while Frank blushed slightly.

"Good luck with that," Remus snorted softly.

"He's always been the nosy one," his little brother quietly agreed.

"He doesn't just keep up with the school gossip for Moony's sake, don't let him tell you otherwise," Peter agreed without looking up.

"Why do I put up with any of you?" He asked in exasperation.

Alice was laughing even harder at the exchange by the end, a stark contrast to Hagrid's dour mood and still not revealing how he got those injuries.

"So, should I be jealous?" Frank finally swooped in and saved Lily from getting anything further directed at her, as his girlfriend fell back into chuckles and looked to turn back to the redhead. "Don't think I haven't noticed him flirting with you." He lovingly teased.

"I wouldn't leave you if Viktor Krum walked in the door right now," Alice assured, blowing him a kiss.

Lily was smiling fondly at the exchange as the beetle was finally explained, and indeed it was referring back to Rita Skeeter, having a rough go of life by the sounds of her description. As Hermione blackmailed her into helping, and Luna Lovegood all pulled together to put Harry's story out there his way, the boys were being such a loud mess it was a wonder if they could hear him at all as each were chanting at Peter to either hurry up, or slow down in his reading as the tower of cups was now tilting this way and that dangerously.

Finally, as they were teleported out of sight, they were all laughing at the show no matter the outcome.

#HP #Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #OotP #Marauders #wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Regulus Black #Lily Evans #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

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Holiday Dates (Pt. 2)

A/N: So here’s a part 2! I feel like this is almost like a slow burn, but not really, because there’s still chemistry and a soon to be date. But hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Teen!Gerard Way x Teen!F!Reader Word count: 2,851 Warnings: Swearing, public humiliation, and cyber bullying mentioned.

The project took hours and hours for you two to do, but every minute was worth it. You and Gerard had managed to split up the work pretty evenly, doing research of experiments, outcomes, everything, and concocting a Powerpoint that was pretty professional.

It was the day before your presentation, Thursday during lunch. You had yet to tell anyone besides your parents about the date with Gerard that would be taking place the day after. Your mom was excited at first, your father on the other hand took a protective stand, insisting he know more about Gerard and meet him, which you of course warned the boy about.

But walking to your usual table and sitting down everyone grew silent. You gave a confused look, “What’s up guys?” You asked taking a sip of your water.

“When were you going to tell us about your date with the nerd?” Jason asked, a stupid and cynical smile on his face. Your eyes went wide as you thought of an excuse.

“Um I was-” “Never gonna tell us, huh? Your friends that you were going out with a weirdo? Do you know how this could affect our reputations around the school?” You squinted your eyes at him, looking for any signs of him being sarcastic. But of course, there were none.

“What, do I now have to ask you for permission to go out with who I want to go out with?” A sudden confidence grew within you.

“I never said that.” He snapped back.

“You’re implying it.” You looked around at your friends who were all giving you looks, silently agreeing with Jason. You scoffed, getting up and grabbing your bag, “I can not believe this!” You said, “You really think me going on a date with Gerard is going to ruin your “reputations” around here?” “Yes, yes it is.” Jason responded.

“Go to hell!” You fired back, “It’s not like any of this is going to matter after high school anyways.”

“Y/N, people are looking.” Shanna harshly whispered at you.

“Let them look!” You said right back, looking at Jason again, “The audacity you have is unbelievable! My ex seriously trying to prevent me from going out again? At least Gerard isn’t a douche bag who just wants to fuck me.” You eyed him, his mouth partially agape in shock now, “So I would suggest, you go fuck yourself. All of you.” You stormed away unsure of where that sudden confidence came from. Everyone in the student commons were staring at you, some people even had their phones out. So yes, this would probably be the big news of the school in T-Minus 15 minutes.

You decided to instead walk to the bathroom having no where else to go. On your way in your internal rage you bumped into someone, not knowing who. “Oh I’m so sorry I-” “Hey, Y/N.” You heard Gerard’s calming voice, looking up to see his sweet smile and beautiful eyes. Damn he was gorgeous.

“Hey.” You responded, sighing, “I’m sorry about that I-” “No it’s alright, really.” He said, scanning your face for a moment, “What’s wrong?” His perfect eyebrows creased.

“It’s just,” You sighed, “I got into a fight with my friends over stupid stuff and I don’t know, nasty things were said.” He lightly nodded. “Where were you headed?” “To the bathroom,” You admitted, “I don’t really have any where else to go considering I just cursed out all of my friends.” “Well you didn’t to me.” He lightly smiled, “Here, c’mon, let’s go sit with my friends.” He told you.

“Oh, I um I-” “No, c’mon, I’m insisting.” He softly smiled.

“Oh, okay.” You said, walking next to him down the hall to the cafeteria. You walked in, and to be honest, there was something so warm about the all wood room. You hadn’t been to the cafeteria since your freshman year, being a junior now, but this was clearly where all the outsiders hung. And you didn’t mind it.

He walked you through the various aisles, tables on each sides of students talking and laughing, until you hit the final table at the end of the room, in the center. There were three other boys there. You studied each one of them individually, moments at a time. The first one had big, curly, red-ish, but kind of brunette hair. His fro was pretty impressive, and his red sweater looked pretty comfortable you had to admit.

The next you knew was Mikey. He was your lab partner in biology last year, as he was two grades ahead in science. He was really nice and docile, super sweet and helped you pass bio.

And finally was a short guy, not more than four inches taller than you, he was sitting on the table with a leather jacket that contrasted his button up shirt and tie. His sleek black hair and ear piercings caught you first.

“Hey guys.” Gerard greeted them, taking a seat at one of the empty chairs, another empty one next to it where he motioned for you to sit down. All three boys looked up to him with smiled before their eyes moved to you, their mouths all dropping and eyes going wide. “This is Y/N.” “Yeah you dummy, we know.” The black haired boy spoke. “I think every damn person in this building knows.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“I, um, I’m Ray, Ray Toro.” The fro boy spoke up.

“Nice to meet you.” You kindly smiled.

“I’m-” “Mikey, you were my bio partner last year.” “You remember me?” The thin boy asked with a light smile.

“Yeah, of course I do.” You responded, “You were the sole reason I passed that class.”

“Wait, you two already know each other?” Gerard gave you a confused look and you both nodded.

“Why?” You asked next.

“We’re brothers.” Gerard responded and now it was your turn to give a confused look. “For real?” You asked and they both nodded.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me you knew her?” Gerard now turned to his younger brother, eyeing him.

“I thought when you said Y/N, you meant another Y/N. Like Y/N Hamilton or Y/N Patricia. There are a lot of Y/N’s.” He sighed.

“Wait, you’re going out with Gerard?” Black hair boy asked. You nodded and he laughed, “You’re joking.” “No, I’m not.”

“Dude, why?” Gerard harshly nudged him.

“Shut up, Frank.” He defended you and Frank rolled his eyes.

“So why are you hanging with us?” He asked next.

“Because my friends are a bunch of asshats.” You admitted.

“Oh, miss goody too shoes swore.” Frank smiled and you eyed him, tempted to slap the boy across his face.

“Frank, you’re really good at ruining everything.” Gerard commented.

“So, what’re you into?” Ray asked, trying to break the tension.

“Honestly?” You inquired next and he nodded. “Well, I really really love to read. I love graphic novels and comic books too. And dogs, I love dogs.” “Then you should fit right in.” Mikey said next.

“I thought Miss Perfect like clothes and jewelry and all.” Frank commented, his words creeping under your skin and biting. You kept your composure not trying to blow as you had just done so to your previous group of friends. “Leave her the fuck alone.” Gerard demanded, Ray and Mikey’s eyes going wide. Frank sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Fine,” He stated reluctantly, “I will.”

“For the record I do like jewelry and clothes,” You looked at him, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t like other things too.”

The day went on after lunch, the video previously of course got passed around like wildfire. You chose to ignore it all, Gerard texting you halfway through your last period to ask how you were doing. You weren’t sure how to properly respond other than a simple “Fine.”

But the weird stared and mumbles as you walked down the halls with piercing eyes of fellow teenagers who managed to drill into your skin made you extremely uneasy.

It wasn’t until you were walking out of school and someone decided to call for you. Because of course, Jason had to label you as “psycho girl”, which was being passed around the school.

“Hey!” You heard another familiar voice. You looked back to see Frank pushing the throw the guy against the wall. He might’ve been small, but he had some guts. “Leave her alone!” He demanded, walking down the stairs to where you were with Mikey, Ray, and Gerard following.

“You alright?” Gerard asked you with a concerned look on his face. You nodded.

“Yeah,” You responded barely above a whisper, Gerard motioning for you two to exit the building along with the other guys.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked once the two of you were outside of the building. You shook your head.

“It’s the exact opposite way from where yours is.” You lightly laughed.

“I can still go-” “It’s okay, Gerard, really. You’ve done enough for me already.” You lightly sighed, “I’ll FaceTime you later, alright?” He nodded and gave a tight smile before turning the other way.

You got home, locking yourself into your room on the verge of breaking down. That was until your phone rang. You got up looking at it to see Gerard’s name popped up so you answered. “Hey,” He smiled on the other end.

“Hey.” You responded trying your hardest to smile. “So, um, should we try to finish the project?” He asked and you nodded, propping your phone on your computer.

You opened up your shared project, talking to one another and going through who would present what. You could tell Gerard was trying to make you laugh, and while he usually would have been wildly successful with his stupid jokes, he barely got a snicker out of you. “Night sugar, you did well.” You lightly smiled.

“Thanks, Gee.” You stretched. “Never as smart as you though.” He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He leaned back on his bed. You rolled your eyes this time.

“Goodnight, Gee. You’re the best.” “Night.” He responded and you hung up.

You barely got any sleep last night. Even after deleting all social media to try and get away from any video of you surfacing and finding it’s way to you, your anxiety was still spiked. The melatonin didn’t help either.

So it was a pleasant surprise to see the boys at your locker talking. Gerard saw you walking towards them, and smiled, walking up to you. “Here,” He handed you a cup filled with the magic liquid in a cup, aka iced coffee. You smiled and took it from him. “I didn’t think you would get much sleep last night.”

“Well isn’t that so sweet of you.” You smiled genuinely for the first time in almost a day, scrunching your nose. You briefly looked over his shoulder to see your now old friends all looking at you, so you made a move.

Getting on your tip toes you leaned up and kissed Gerard on the cheek. When you pulled away his mouth was wide open, his face immediately turning red. Looking to your right you saw the three boys all staring the same, with their mouths agape, except for Frank who had a smug smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“What was that for?” Gerard asked a few seconds later, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For brining me coffee,” You smiled up at him, “And not being an ass.” You gave him a quick wave before walking off to your own class, the guys muttering some things as you left, what you assumed to be about you.

Your day went on pretty typically, ignoring all the nasty rumors and murmurs from your fellow peers who, based on one 15 second video, had managed to rebrand you as a person, and completely recreate a reputation for you.

That was until your AP Psych class finally came along. You walked in, sitting next to Gerard who smiled up at you. “You ready?” He asked and you nodded.

“I just wanted to say,” You started right after the bell rang, “That I wouldn’t have wanted to do this project with anyone else.” “Me neither.” He smiled, looking at you genuinely.

One by one Mr. Young called up the partner pairs, you and Gerard managed to be called last. “Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Way, you’re up.” He announced from behind his desk, pulling up the presentation you sent to him.

The two of you walked up to the front of the class, each of you standing on one side of the board. You had practiced over FaceTime at least three of four times, but presenting in front of Gerard was drastically different from presenting in front of 30 of your own peers. So naturally, your anxiety skyrocketed.

“Good morning, everyone.” Gerard began, as planned, “I’m Gerard.” “And I’m Y/N.” You put on your best face. “And we decided to do our project on social psychology, and how the human mind works and functions in given social situations.”

One by one you went on from each slide, you gradually getting more comfortable. You had to admit, you would have probably broken down completely by now if it wasn’t for Gerard occasionally stepping in on the spot to help you. But by the end, the two of you were going back and forth flawlessly off of each other’s ideas, a true team and everyone could tell.

“And that’s all, thank you all so much.” Gerard smiled and you did too, walking back to your desks as the class clapped.

“Thank you Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Way that was wonderful.” Mr. Yang smiled, finishing up a few notes he has started writing when you started your presentation.

“I fucked it up.” You immediately told Gerard as the two of you walked out of class, the end of the bell still ringing. “I really fucked it up.” You groaned.

“No, you didn’t.” He lightly smiled, “You did great.” “Oh, please, if it wasn’t for you coming to save my ass we would both have a D on the project.” “Sugar,” He stopped you in the hall, taking you by your arm and pulling you to the side, “No, you didn’t fuck anything up. You did great, and I know we did extremely well on that project!” “Stop making me try to feel better,” You complained, “I fucked up both our grades.” “No you didn’t,” He argued, “And I’ll have confirmation of that by the end of the day, because Mr. Young always puts in the grades within a few hours.”

And much to your chagrin (well, not really) Gerard was right. By the end of the day when you were checking your grades on your phone, there popped up a new grade inserted for the project. Lo and behold it was a 97. Because a 98 would have made it an A+, and Mr. Young never gave out A pluses.

“See, I told you.” Gerard smiled, strutting up to your locker. “We nailed it.” You swung your backpack around your shoulder, standing back up and looking at him.

“Yeah I know,” You sighed, closing the door shut. The two of you began walking down the hall to where the other guys were, all at Frank’s locker. You stood there with them, a light and random conversation going about, taking up the intermediate time before exiting school for break. “So I’m picking you up tonight at 7?” Gerard asked, the two of you now outside and on the sidewalk. You nodded and smiled. “Great, see you then sugar.” “Bye, Gee.” You smiled and waved, walking the other way.

Every hour after that you were at the very least mentally preparing yourself for your date with Gerard. Sure, that saying may come with a negative connotation, but it was more so just you trying not to completely fuck up.

You had managed to do your makeup, not too heavy at all and quite natural, even though Gerard insisted numerous times that you were beautiful as is. Your mom also helped you with your hair, letting it’s natural texture go but with some very minor styling, getting some frizz and imperfections out.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous.” You mom clapped and smiled at the end.

“Mom, I’ve gone out with guys before.” You complained, looking at your phone. 6:58.

“Yes, but this man seems more,” She pondered trying to find the right words for a moment, “Respectable.” You rolled your eyes.

“Gerard is a great guy.” You concluded, sitting at the kitchen island across from her.

“Good,” She began, “Then he and your father should have no problems.” You nodded. Just a moment later you all heard the doorbell ring. You took a deep breath, letting out a slower one. Mainly out of excitement, but also trying to prevent yourself from squealing and jumping into Gerard’s arms the first time you saw him.

“Here goes nothing.” You mumbled under your breath.

#gerard way #my chemical romance #gerard way x reader #mcr gerard #my chem #my chemical gee #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way fanfiction #mcr

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 years

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Graduated - Gerard Way x Reader

Summary: The reader finally gets to graduate university and gets a little surprise from her boyfriend

Reader: female

Warnings: I wrote this for my friend, so this might be very specific (and exaggerated)…, not properly proof read :/

Word count: 2 384

A/N: I know I exaggerated some of the parts in here, and the person who this is for knows it’s for her, but I wrote it the way I imagine it must have felt like sometimes. I’m so fucking proud of you, sweetie.

Impatiently you shifted around on your chair. It was a nice chair, no reason to complain, but truth be told, you didn’t want to be here, not anymore. You were done here. All you really wanted was go home and video-call your boyfriend for as long as possible until he had to hang up.

But here you were, listening to the university’s dean’s speech in which you took no interest. Maybe you should have, after all this was your graduation ceremony, but you had already gotten your certificate, and now you wanted nothing but leave this part of your life behind.

Sure, time at uni had been fun. Sometimes. You had met a bunch of cool people who you enjoyed hanging out with, you had spent afternoons sitting in cafés with them, procrastinating the inevitable studying together, you had gone to parties and met more people, but in the end you had never really become as close with any of them as you would have wanted. Maybe because they wanted to be there, wanted to study architecture, and you just did it in order not to get into trouble with your parents.

How many times you had wanted to give everything up! How many times you thought about just throwing it all in the wind and run away, go on tour with your boyfriend who was playing in a band, just leave this godforsaken city behind!

It had not always been this bad, but the stress and anxiety had worn you out over the years, had caused burn out, or depression, or whatever you wanna call it. Not that anyone cared. Not until Gerard had come back into your life.

You had known him and Ray from school, had always been friends with them, even though they were a couple of years older than you. But as soon as Gerard’s brother Mikey had graduated high school the same year as you, they had piled into a van together with a guy called Frank (who now was just as much your friend as the rest of them), and had driven off into the sunset to make their dream of being a punk band into reality. Of course they had asked you to join them. And you had wanted to say yes so badly. But you knew that if you had done that, your parents would have never talked to you again, and so you had bowed to your parents wish and gone to university to study architecture, even though you never had really wanted that.

It had taken almost two years before your friends had finally been back in town, and those four weeks in the summer holidays had been the best four weeks of your life. You had hung out with them all the time, had made music, taken pictures of them, helped bring a huge art project to life… and you had gotten together with Gerard. He had always been the one you had felt drawn to the most, always been the one you had called first when you had good news to share. And between band practice, drawing comics and staring at you, he somehow had managed to tell you that for years he had felt the same way for you as you felt for him.

That had been almost two years ago now, although it hardly felt like that long. Soon after that summer the band had gone on tour again, and Gerard was only home a couple of weeks a year. Most of the time you hardly noticed, except for in the evenings, when the stress of the day finally stepped into the background, and you had a few hours to your own thoughts. Those were the moments you missed him. Often he called you after shows, talking for hours until he realised you had to get up in the morning, and sent you to bed with a chuckle and an “I love you”. In those two years, in which you had been together, you had only spent about three months in the same city. The last time you had seen him was over three months ago. And how you missed him!

You glanced over to where the girls sat, that usually had spent their lunchbreaks with you. They were surrounded by their families. One was arm in arm with her boyfriend. You quickly turned to look away. You would see Gerard soon. After this weekend, right on Monday morning, you had booked a flight out to L.A. where MCR would play a show that evening, and then you would accompany them on the rest of the tour. You had been hesitant about that at first, when Gerard had suggested it, but you had never been on tour with them, and you really missed Gerard, and judging by the sound of his voice over the phone, he missed you too.

‘Just two more days,’ you told yourself, and tried to focus back on the dean’s speech.

Luckily the dean did not talk for a long time after that, and when he was finished, your favourite professor jumped on stage to announce that there was a buffet for everyone to have some snacks before sending you off into life.

With a sigh you got up. You felt stiff after all the sitting, as if you had not sat for long enough during your time at university. You made way for some elderly couple who seemed to be the grandparents of one of your fellow classmates, and huffed at the memory of your parents telling you, they would not be in town for your graduation. It felt like you had done these four years of psycho terror for nothing, although Gerard had always told you that you needed to finish this degree or you would have thrown away four years of your life. Maybe he had been right, thinking about quitting two months before the final exam would have probably been something you would later regret. And this way you had at least something that proved you had learnt anything at all.

Once you had made your way out of the maze of chairs, you wondered whether you should join the others by the buffet. Scanning the crowd, you realized that they all seemed to be talking to someone already, and you would have felt like an intruder if you had walked over now. So instead you brushed your hair out of your eyes, and turned around, promptly bumping into someone carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Quickly excusing yourself, you stepped to the side, but then you saw the face of the person who held the flowers, and almost would have gotten a heart attack. Tears shot into your eyes as you stared at this so familiar face while a smile spread over Gerard’s face at seeing your reaction.

Opening his arms, he allowed you to fall against him, wrapping him in a hug, and burying your face against his neck. Gently he closed his arms around you, not as hard as he would have wanted to, but he tried really hard not to ruin the flowers he was still holding.

“Congratulations, baby,” he whispered against your ear, and you quickly turned your head, and pecked his lips before pulling away, and whipping tears of your cheeks.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Francisco,” you almost shouted, playfully shoving him, while you felt tears rise again.

“Couldn’t just miss my girl graduating,” he grinned, “not after all the shit you’ve been through just for this.”

“I fucking love you, you know that,” you sobbed, not caring about the tears anymore. Who cared about make-up anyway?

“I should hope so, otherwise the red roses here would be embarrassing,” he laughed, and handed you the bouquet of sunflowers, daisies and a couple of red roses.

“There you are!”

Before you could thank Gerard, Ray and Mikey pushed through the crowd.

“Gerard just stormed off,” Mikey complained.

Wide eyed you stared at them.

“You’re here too,” you exclaimed, and quickly went to hug Mikey and Ray tightly.

“We’re all here,” Mikey explained, “Frank’s just over there, at the buffet.”

“Where else,” you rolled your eyes, and felt another wave of tears burning in your eyes. “You have no idea how much I love all of you.”

Not knowing what to do with yourself you turned back to Gerard, and hugged him, hiding your face against his chest, making him giggle and wrap his arms around you protectively.

“Oh, we brought chocolates, lemonade and some cake too,” Ray remembered, “but the stuff’s still in the car outside.”

“We didn’t want to burst in here with all the food, in case someone has the idea to ask for some of it,” Mikey explained, making you laugh a little, but you did not move away from Gerard.

“Guys, these tomato bruschetta are excellent,” a familiar voice announced, “Here I brought some. Take them quickly; this old lady is already giving me death glares.”

Laughing you finally pulled away from Gerard, and turned to Frank, who had joined you, balancing several of the tiny breads on one of his hands, holding them out to everyone. Like the others you took one, and waited until Frank’s hand was finally free before hugging him too.

“Thank you for coming here,” you laughed as you let him go again.

“Sure, I mean it’s not like Gee gave us a choice,” Frank shrugged, but his eyes gave away how happy he was to be here, too.

“And by the way, the old lady is one of my former teachers,” you let him know, nodding into the direction of a white haired woman who was watching the five of you closely.

“Ah well, you’re not her student anymore,” Frank grinned.

“You’re right. And that means I also have absolutely no business still being here,” you decided, “Let’s get out of here.”

“But the buffet- ! They have tiramisu,” Frank whined.

“You can do whatever you want, Frankie,” you laughed, “but I’ve been stuck here for long enough. Four years of my life wasted on finishing a degree I never wanted. It’s time I get out.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Gerard agreed and kissed your hair. “Like Ray said, we brought cake and lemonade. We could drive down to the lake and have a picnic there.”

“Aw, a picnic sounds absolutely perfect right now,” you nodded enthusiastically, and allowed Gerard to slip his hand into your free one.

“We’ll make quite a sight, down there between all these teenagers, while we’re all dressed up,” Mikey giggled following Gerard and you, who lead the way through the hall.

Looking over your shoulder you realised he was right. All of the men were wearing either dark jeans or dress pants, and dress shirts. Mikey was even wearing a tie. And you were dressed in an elegant skirt with a cute blouse and a cardigan. You really would stick out between the high schoolers who were doubtlessly hanging out at the lake around this time on a Friday afternoon.

“And after the picnic, I thought the five of us could commemorate the good old times by grabbing pizza over at Giovanni’s,” Gerard continued making plans, causing Frank to cheer quietly at the prospect of getting some tiramisu there.

You turned your head to look at him, and found he was already looking for your reaction.

“What are you trying to do,” you wondered, “Flowers, picknick, pizza,… you don’t need to convince me you’d be a great boyfriend, I already know that.”

“Hey! I just wanna spoil you,” Gerard defended, “We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you’ve just graduated, so I think I should be allowed to spoil you.”

You let go of his hand, and instead wrapped your arm around his back, which caused him to chuckle, and wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“What about L.A., is that still on,” you wondered, as you stepped from the crowded hall into the emptier hallway that lead to the main entrance of the building.

“Of course it is. We managed to schedule the shows so we got today and the weekend of, but the L.A. show on Monday is still on as planned,” Ray explained from behind you.

“And I still hope you’ll come with us,” Gerard added, looking down to you expectantly.

“Not like we’d give you much of a choice,” Mikey added, before you could even answer.

“He’s right, we can’t have Gerard mopping around because he misses you so much for another two months,” Frank agreed.

“I wasn’t mopping!”

“Yes, you were!”

“Oh, you were!”

“Nooo, not at all!”

All his bandmates spoke at once, making you laugh.

“It really seems like I have no choice, do I,” you giggled, linking your thumb into one of the belt loops on Gerard’s trousers.

“No, you don’t,” Gerard agreed, and nuzzled his nose into your hair.

Pushing open the heavy door to the old building, the five of you stepped out of the university into the warm light of the afternoon sun. Stopping in your tracks you leant your head back a little, and felt how the sunbeams warmed up your face. Taking a deep breath, and closing your fingers around the bouquet Gerard had given you, you opened your eyes again. Realisation washed over you; you were free. For four years you had fought your way through the system, just to please your parents, and now you were free. If these four years had taught you anything, then that you would never be happy if you always did what others expected you to do. You needed to do what you wanted to do. The long term plan? No idea. The intermediate plan? Go on tour with the boys. Actually you could maybe do that as a long term plan, too. But right now? Picnic and pizza with Gerard.

“Everything alright?”

You turned your head and looked into hazel green eyes that worriedly glanced down to you.

“Yeah, yes. Actually. I’m just- I’m happy.”

Gerard smiled and leant down to kiss you quickly before the others called for you.

“Let’s go,” he grinned, and arm in arm you followed your friends to the van.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @starduststyx

MCR: @deadlovers

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

Any fics that are set during Bullets or maybe some where Gee does comics instead of MCR? Thanx for all the work you do to keep us sustained during quarantine lol!

You’re welcome, Nonny! I don’t keep track of what era a fic is set in in my bookmarks, so I had to rely on ao3 tagging to answer this. I’ll make a separate list for your second request!

Bullets Era

Demolition Brothers by SinnerInSaintsClothing, Gerard/Mikey, 3k, Explicit. "He always ended up here, Mikey thought to himself. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t wake up in Gerard’s bed." On tour, when high and drunk off their asses, the Way brothers always seem to end up with one another. A sick and twisted addiction to loving one another too much, and in all the wrong ways.

Like Nicotine by YourCoffinDoor, Gerard/Reader, 936 words, Not Rated. You get a light for your cigarette from Gerard after a show, and you get a little more than you asked for.

Hunting With Bullets by Oni216, 21k [WIP], Mature. Having a band is the perfect cover to fight evil that lurks in the dark. It provides distraction, a reason to live, and decent lyrics for no one to fully understand. And it takes its toll. It always takes a toll.

this deep puzzle moon by reclist, Frank/Gerard, 787 words, General Audiences. The house party is at its peak, Gerard lost sight of the chick that invited them over after the show. She might be getting it on with Mikey somewhere in the house, but Gerard would rather not think about it. He goes back to the living room in search of the other members, but he can’t find any of them, so he leaves heading to the backyard. There’s a body lying flat on the ground in the far back of the backyard, Gerard realizes it’s Frank when he gets close enough to recognize the Black Flag shirt he’s wearing.

Future Self by shadowhive, Ray/Ray, 859 words, Explicit. It was still so strange, seeing his face on another man. It wasn’t like looking into a mirror, with his reflection staring back at him, this man... this future version of himself, looked different.

Not That Kind of Post-Horror Movie Girl by gerardsjuarez, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Not Rated. During a tour in 2003, the band is holed up in a motel room that, more than likely, had seen more Motley Crue after-parties than actual people. To pass away the time before bed, the band ends up switching on the premiere of Ghost Adventures and some* take it more seriously than others*. *some: Gerard *others: anyone other than Gerard

Cyanoacrylate by grosss, Frank/Gerard, 3k, Explicit. "Yeah, well, I wasn't masturbating onstage, idiot." Gerard protests, running his tongue over his cracked lips. The problem is, Frank isn't wrong- Gerard likes to think he has a shred of dignity, a little bit of tact, but he does love to put on a show, and he'd probably jump into the Atlantic without clothes on in the dead of winter if Frank so much as looked at him the right way. "But you'd do it for me." It isn't a question, and Gerard just nods, suddenly hyper-aware of the knife again, clutched in Frank's hand next to his right ear.

on the shoulders of giants by Trojie, Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 1k, Explicit. 1. Gerard Way/Mikey Way/Ray Toro, Hair pulling

Third Time's The Charm by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Explicit. Frank wants to try something with Gerard and he only has a few more chances to do it ~or~ The one where Frank and Gerard have sex in the bands van ~or~ The one shot where Frank eventually snowballs with Gerard

We Toast to the Apocalypse by WizardGerard, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Jamia, 3k, Explicit. A fic about that one house party fight. You know the one.

The World Is Ugly by Frnk, rockforfrnk, Frank/Gerard, 16k, Mature. Gerard is adjusting to being a trans male on the road as they tour the Bullets album and he is super shy. Frank, on the other hand, is all about getting high and drunk between shows. What will happen when Gee and Frank hookup?

The Mess We've Made by ViciousVenin, Frank/Gerard, 122k, Explicit. Gerard isn't sure where his life is going. It feels like the world is shifting and changing around him and he's stuck in place, unable to move forward. But when he meets a guy at a club who tells him he's meant for something better, Gerard wants to believe him, and suddenly he's taking steps he never thought he would.

can't sleep tonight (as long as I still) by Trojie, Gerard/Mikey, 5k, Mature. Gerard is bad at asking for what he wants, or taking what he needs, or remembering what he took.

In Which Frank Is Shy by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 16k, Explicit. Bullets Era. "Of course, Frank knew he shouldn’t be too surprised, he’d felt that Gerard was big when they messed around in the van but that had been through layers of clothes so he’d just kind of underestimated how big it would actually be. He couldn’t help mentally comparing it to his own..."

Life on the Murder Scene by BattyJade, Gerard/Reader, 36k [WIP], Mature. Reader is an artist working for Brian Schechter, designing album covers, and reluctantly being trained to be an assistant manager. Then one day Brian introduces her to some members from a band called My Chemical Romance and he decides they're the perfect band for her to start with. Now, having convinced them to sign with Reprise she begins to work with them, even if Gerard can't seem to stop staring at her. Can both of them hold back their growing feelings as they're pushed closer together by the close quarters on tour?

Dig, If You Will, A Picture by geeraymes, Ray/Gerard, 2k, General Audiences. Prince, pizza, and kisses.

Soul Mark by HinaSohma, Frank/Gerard, 3k [WIP], Not Rated. Everyone is born with a soulmark, and Frank is itching to know what Gerard's is - after all, how can you not believe in soul mates?

Some Hearts Are Gallows (I'm Not Here For Hanging Around) by blindlyseeking (orphan_account), Frank/Gerard, 24k, Mature. My Chemical Romance. The name even had that vibe to it: we’re going to conquer the motherfucking universe. It was like The Beatles or Bikini Kill. It was a name that pinned you against a wall and said, “You better remember me.” And she is a part of it. Gina, Michelle, Rae, Maddy, and Frankie are just getting their new band off the ground. The girls are leaving Jersey for the first time on tour. But Frankie has been head over heels for Gina since day one and in a blur of autumn, Polaroids, house parties, whiskey sours, car rides, and cassette tapes 2002 becomes the year that change everything.

Back Seat by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Mature. The van was small enough as it were. It felt even more claustrophobic when Frank and Gerard were up to no good on the back seat. No time to give them any privacy. My Chemical Romance was on a tight schedule to get from A to B, and so they just had to try and ignore what they were doing.

When You're Too In Love To Let It Go by frerardestiel, Frank/Gerard, 9k, Explicit. Traveling the States with his band is probably the best thing Frank ever experienced. Not that with Pencey wasn't good, because it was, just - the dudes in My Chem are his family and this band means more to him than everything else in the world. The only thing that sometimes keeps him awake at night and makes him want to drown into a bottle of beer (or two, or three) is that maybe he feels something else for one of his bandmates. He doesn't think he really wants to be Gerard's brother.

#gerard/mikey #gerard/reader #frank/gerard #ray/ray #ray/gerard/mikey #frank/jamia #ray/gerard #bullets era #fic rec list

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years

Text

My Blue Heaven

Pairing: Adam Lazzara x Reader, Gerard Way x Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~3,900 Author’s Note: Here is a short playlist (recommend you listen in order). The story is set around the Bullets/Tell All Your Friends era, but I took artistic liberties with when Frank got married to fit the storyline. Also, this is the story I referred to a few times as “the story where everyone is an asshole” sooo there’s that too...

"(YN), what are you doing here?" Frank asked as he walked into the practice space, guitar case in hand. "Isn't Taking Back Sunday rehearsing down the hall?"

(YN) rolled her eyes. "First of all, yes they are, and I would be there if it wasn't a closed rehearsal. And second, why can't I watch my favorite band in the world practice?"

"We're your favorite band?" Mikey scoffed.

"Yea because you guys actually let me hang out with you," (YN) laughed.

"If it's a closed practice, why are those other girls going in there?" Ray asked as he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

(YN) felt her heart sink and her cheeks start to burn up, but tried not to hide her feelings anyway. "I dunno, maybe it's the girl they have doing backup vocals on Bike Scene or something, I dunno.”

As (YN) stared blankly ahead lost in her thoughts, My Chemical Romance finished tuning and setting up to practice. She didn't notice Gerard watching her from where he stood in the corner quietly sipping coffee. "What do you wanna hear today, (YN)?" He asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Demolition Lovers," she replied after a moment of thought, and the band started to play the song.

After the practice was complete and everyone was packing up their equipment, Gerard came and sat down next to (YN) on the couch.

"You ok?" He asked, brushing the black hair out of his eyes.

"Yea, you guys were great!"

"No, I mean about," he nodded in the direction of where the other band was rehearsing.

"Oh, it's fine, I'm not worried about it," she smiled weakly.

"Don't forget Saturday is the engagement party Jamia's family is throwing for me and her, so don't be late and dress nice, and shower," Frank announced, addressing the last point specifically at the Way brothers before leaving.

"You're gonna be there right?" Gerard asked (YN).

"Yea, we're going," she replied getting up. "I'll see you there, right?"

Gerard nodded. "Yea," he smiled up at her. (YN) held his gaze for a moment, returning the smile before turning to leave with a wave, heading straight for the exit without even glancing back at where Talking Back Sunday was rehearsing.

(YN) looked around the country club banquet room that was far too fancy for the majority of the crowd that was filling it. Everyone would have been much more comfortable in band tees and ripped jeans, but in celebration of Frank and Jamia even the punks that Frank was friends with wore the best outfits they could muster.

Finally her eyes landed on her boyfriend Adam. She made her way through the crowd to the tall man keeping everyone drawn in with his expressive storytelling. “Oh hey, there’s my girl!” he said grinned when he saw (YN) approaching.

“Hey babe,” she smiled up at him.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight,” Adam complimented.

“Thanks,” (YN) replied as she smoothed her floral dress. She looked up at him expecting him to lean down and kiss her, but he kept he eyes trained on the door, only placing a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I guess I’m gonna go get a drink,” she sighed.

When she got across the room, she found the bar had a long line, but she didn’t mind the time away from Adam if he wasn’t interested in paying attention to her. She waited, absentmindedly watching the crowd until she spotted Gerard coming over to her.

“Hey!” She greeted him with a hug.

“How’s it going?” He asked when they pulled back, his hand lingering at the small of her back.

She hummed in thought, brows knitting together as she tried to find the words. “I just feel like something is bound to happen tonight, ya know?”

“What do ya mean?” Gerard asked with a laugh.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Like that.”

“What?” Gerard asked, suddenly concerned.

“That girl that Adam supposedly hooked up with just walked in. Why do we have such a small social group? And why is this line for drinks so long?” (YN) grumbled as she rolled her eyes.

“I was gonna go out for a cigarette, wanna come with?” Gerard offered.

“Yea, let’s go.”

“Do you believe that he hooked up with her?” Gerard asked when they were outside. The sun was just beginning to set and casting an orange glow over the back patio where they stood alone.

(YN) sighed and looked up at him. “Yea. And then some actually. I’ve never caught him, but I just can’t believe there would be this many rumors if they weren’t true.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Gerard asked simply before taking another drag off his cigarette.

“Wow Gee, really?”

“Yea! I mean you’ve got a lot going for you, you could do better.”

(YN) shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s like when we’re good, we’re so good. But the other, I don’t know, 90 percent of the time…” she trailed off.

“He’s got his dick in someone else.”

“Gerard!” She scolded, smacking his arm before sighing. “I don’t know what to do.”

Gerard turned toward (YN), dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m serious, you deserve better.”

(YN) felt like she couldn’t breathe as Gerard took another step toward her as she racked her mind for any reason why Gerard was wrong. “He thinks I’m funny.”

“You know I think you’re hilarious, I love when I get to talk to you.”

“He says I’m beautiful.”

“I think you’re beautiful too,” Gerard said softly, as he reached up and let his fingers graze over her cheek before letting them trail down to the back of her neck, his fingers running through her hair. Then he was leaning in and his lips were on hers. (YN) kissed him back like his cigarette scented kiss was the only thing keeping her alive. When she pulled back, Gerard was looking down at her and blushing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back from her.

“Don’t be,” she replied looking down at the ground before looking back up at him. “I’m umm, going to go inside and get that drink now,” she said before hurrying back inside.

(YN)’s mind was reeling. She knew she should feel guilty, she should feel bad, but kissing Gerard, letting Gerard kiss her, felt so right. And she felt like for the first time in a long time, she was almost on an even playing ground with Adam.

It was a couple weeks after the engagement party when (YN) found herself at a house party that a friend of a friend was throwing. My Chem had just returned from a short tour and Taking Back Sunday had just left for some shows in the south, so (YN) was excited to see some of her friends by herself.

When she arrived, she found Ray, and they partnered up for a couple games of beer pong. Afterward they got pulled into a conversation, but the whole time she felt like someone was watching her. She glanced across the room and spotted Frank. She gave him a friendly wave and he gave her a nod in return as he made his way over.

“We were just talking about touring and how you guys just got back from being on the road,” (YN) explained to him.

“Yep. And didn’t your boyfriends band just get back?” Frank asked, but (YN) noticed the sharpness in his tone.

“No, they just left, that’s why Adam isn’t here,” she replied a little confused.

“Oh right, right,” Frank said with a nod, but (YN) couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on with him.

After a few hours, (YN) decided to head home. When she made her way to the door to find her coat in the pile that had amassed, she found Frank doing the same.

“I meant to tell you before I had a nice time at your engagement party, thanks for the invite,” (YN) smiled.

Frank lifted his eyebrows as he looked at her. “You did, huh? Did your boyfriend?”

Confusion was written across (YN)’s face. “Yea, I think so.”

“Ok, well it was good to see you (YN), say hi to Gerard for me,” Frank said snidely before heading out the door. That’s when it clicked in (YN)’s mind. She narrowed her eyes as she stormed after him.

“What the hell was that supposed to mean?” (YN) demanded when she caught up to Frank in the front yard, not caring about the other partygoers who were outside smoking.

He turned back to her with a knowing smirk. “Slip of the tongue. You know a thing or two about that, right?”

“What are you talking about?” She replied indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I saw you and Gerard at the engagement party. Oh, but you were still with Adam, weren’t you? Wait, you still are with him, aren’t you?”

(YN)’s jaw dropped. “Oh, fuck you Frank!” She spat. “You don’t even know-”

“Yea, right, you’re the real victim here,” Frank said storming toward her.

“You know how Adam is, you know he’s cheated on me!”

“Then have some fucking self respect (YN) and leave him! And don’t think you’re the only one being impacted here, Gee hasn’t been able to focus on a damn thing since that night, the shows were a mess. Leave Adam, be with Gerard if you want, or don’t, I don’t care, but do something!” With that he turned and left, leaving (YN) standing in the dark, tears streaming down her face.

(YN) lay next to Adam, wide awake despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. She hadn't stopped thinking about what Frank said for weeks. Every time she thought she had made peace with what happened, her thoughts turned to Gerard.

She tried to pretend as if nothing happened, but when she would go to the My Chem rehearsals and shows, she found herself watching Gerard more than anyone else. She found herself thinking about the things he said to her, the way his lips felt on hers, wondering how they'd feel on her neck, how he would feel against her.

But things with Adam had changed as well. He seemed more attentive suddenly, and (YN) couldn't help but wonder if some rumors got back to him. She also couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was for the best after all.

A few nights later, (YN) made her way up to Adam’s door and let herself in like usual. “Hey babe, Jen got called into work, so we had to cancel our girls night. Wanna go to-” (YN) trailed off as she spotted the trail of clothes that started at her feet and led to the bedroom.

Adam rushed out of the bedroom, pulling up his boxers, shutting the door behind him. “(YN), it’s, I’m, I” he stammered trying to come up with an excuse for the bra (YN) was holding up.

“I always knew it. I always fucking knew it even though I pretended it wasn’t really happening,” she said before throwing the garment at him and running out of the apartment. As she got in her car and knew exactly where she was going.

“(YN) what are you doing here?” Gerard asked when he opened the door.

“I caught Adam with a girl, and I came here,” she replied in a rush as she pushed her way into the house, shedding her jacket.

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, concern written across his face.

(YN) didn’t reply, she just reached up and pulled Gerard to her and kissed him hard. She leaned her body into his as his hands found her waist, gripping it tightly. His tongue slipped past her lips and moved with hers.

“Let’s go downstairs,” he said breathlessly when they came up for air and (YN) nodded in response.

When they made it to Gerard’s room they were back on each other in an instant, his hands holding her tightly, in case this moment would slip away if he wasn’t careful. She pulled back and peeled off her shirt before climbing onto his bed. Gerard climbed over her as she leaned back against the Star Wars sheets and ground her hips against his, desperate for friction. Gerard’s hands roamed over her body as his lips moved down to her neck. When he found a spot that made her gasp, he worked on it relentlessly, leaving dark red marks.

(YN) pulled Gerard's shirt off, letting her nails scratch up his back. Soon they were pushing off their jeans and everything else. Their skin slick with sweat, moans slipping from their lips, leaving even more marks on each other.

The next morning (YN) woke up with Gerard's arms wrapped around her with her back pressed against his chest. He looked like he had just woken up as well, his face still puffy from sleep, eyes bleary when she rolled away from him onto her front so she could look at him.

“Hey,” Gerard murmured. He almost seemed hesitant to break the silence.

“Hi,” she replied softly.

Gerard smiled at her sleepily, the silence lingering between them as his fingers started tracing up and down her bare spine. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“I just woke up though,” she replied, burying her face against the pillow, before looking back up at him coyly.

Gerard shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, still beautiful. Always have been, always will be.”

(YN) leaned over and pressed another kiss to his lips and he pulled her against him. Soon they were at it again, moans and gasps filling the room. It was different with Gerard; all of his attention was on her, nothing felt rushed, he cared about how she felt, how good he could make her feel. He adored her in every sense of the word.

When they finished and dressed again, Gerard led the way back upstairs. When they got to the kitchen they were both startled to find Mikey sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal.

“I didn’t know you and Adam broke up,” Mikey said while eyeing (YN).

“What are you talking about? We were just-” (YN) started.

“You’re not quiet,” Mikey said curtly as he got up and rinsed his bowl in the sink.

(YN) looked at Gerard, both of them blushing feverishly. “Shut up Mikey,” Gerard finally choked out before ushering (YN) to the front door.

“Your coat is on the couch (YN),” Mikey called after them.

“(YN),” Gerard started once they were outside, the questions he wanted to ask hanging on his tongue.

“I don’t feel guilty,” she said, seeming to read his mind.

Gerard looked up. “Really?”

She just nodded. “I… I don’t regret any of it. But I’m gonna go.”

It was Gerard’s turn to nod silently. (YN) leaned in and placed a soft kiss against his cheek, before turning and hurrying to her car with one last glance over her shoulder.

(YN) had been ignoring Adam’s calls for days. She had been thinking hard about what had happened until she eventually found herself at Adam’s door. When she arrived, she rang the bell instead of letting herself in like usual and when Adam opened the door he looked surprised to see her.

“(YN), come in,” he started.

“Yea, we need to talk,” she said pushing past him brusquely. She ignored him when he gestured for her to sit next to him on the couch.

“I’m so sorry about that night. I swear that was the first time it happened,” he started.

“Shut up Adam, I know that’s not true,” (YN) snapped. He sat back, surprised at her tone.

“Baby, ok, I messed up. I’ve messed up before, and just because you didn’t see it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, but I’m sorry!”

"I hooked up with Gerard."

Adam stared at her in shock for a moment. "Fuck (YN)! When?"

"The night I caught you with that other girl,” replied coldly.

"Goddamn it (YN)! I love you because you're so fucking good. Too fucking good for me and then you pull this shit?"

(YN) stared daggers at him "Really? Now you acknowledge that I’m too good for you when I finally sink to your level? You could have tried to make yourself into someone worthy of my love and time and devotion, but you threw that all away. Do you realize what you've done to me? You broke me down and ruined me, made me into someone I’m not, someone I never thought I would be! And I'm done!”

Adam jumped to his feet then, his tall frame towering over her. "What? You're gonna go crawling back to Gee? Like he’d want you? Like he’s some kind of prize?”

(YN) felt her resolve slip for a moment as his words slipped through the cracks in her armor. What if Gerard didn’t want to be with her any more? What if she was just damaged goods, a slut? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay with Adam?

“Come on (YN), I love you, we can work this all out,” Adam said, reaching out for her hands and snapping her out of her thoughts.

(YN) shook her head as she took a step back. “No, no I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be waiting at home for you every night and wondering who you’re with. I can’t let you keep doing this to me.”

(YN) hurried back out the door before she could doubt herself again. As the door shut behind her, she sighed and felt a sense of relief flood her before the anxiety crashed in. What if he was right about Gerard not wanting her anymore now that he’d had her. What if she had ruined what could have been if she just would have done things the right way?

(YN) knew My Chem was having practice that evening, so she sat on the floor of the hallway across from the door as she waited for them to finish. When the door opened up and Frank came out, she scrambled to her feet.

“Shit, (YN), you scared me,” he said putting his hand over his heart.

“Sorry,” (YN) mumbled. “But, umm, I broke up with Adam today. I came clean and everything.”

Frank nodded. “Good on you (YN). I know shit’s fucked up, but I knew you’d get it together,” he gave her a soft smile before turning to leave.

Ray and Matt came out shortly after, leaving only Gerard and Mikey still in the rehearsal space. (YN) lingered at the doorway as they talked and Mikey packed up his bass. Sensing someone at the door Gerard looked up and smiled at (YN). Relief washed over her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m gonna go,” Mikey said when he saw who his brother was smiling at. “See ya," he said hurrying past her.

“Hey,” Gerard finally said.

“Hey,” she replied. “Umm, can we talk?”

Gerard, pale as he already was, seemed to pale even more at her words. “Yea, ok.”

(YN) shut the door and sat down on the couch, Gerard joining her. “I broke up with Adam today.”

“Shit,” he murmured.

“He said you wouldn’t want to be with me,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Gerard was reaching out and wrapping her in a hug. “That’s not true,” he whispered. ��I’ve watched you with Adam for so long and I wanted nothing more than to make you realize that you deserve so much more. I’m not saying that I’m Prince Charming, but if you let me try, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

(YN) pulled back, and Gerard brushed away the tears from her cheeks. “I promise I’m not who I’ve been lately. I’ve been at my worst," she whispered.

“I know you’re not, sugar. And I’m not blameless in this either.”

“I’m gonna songs written about me now,” she laughed.

“I’ll write better,” Gerard smiled back.

“You really want to be with me?” She asked earnestly.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he said leaning in, his lips pressing against hers.

A few months later, (YN) walked into the church and found a seat in the back corner, away from the other guests who had already arrived. A few minutes later the wedding processional began and Frank and Jamia’s friends and family, including Gerard, filed up to the front of the church. Everyone stood up when Jamia entered the church and made her way down the aisle, that’s when (YN) spotted him and her heart started to race.

(YN) mentally berated herself for not realizing Adam would be at the wedding. She hadn’t prepared at all for how she would say to him, as she hadn’t seen him since the night she dumped him. She wondered if he had heard about her and Gerard.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she missed most of the ceremony. She finally started to pay attention when Frank started to read his vows. The love in his voice was so genuine it made (YN) realize something. It didn’t matter what would or wouldn’t be said between her and Adam, all that mattered was that she was in a loving relationship with Gerard. They didn’t lie or keep secrets from each other, she knew that he adored her and she felt like the luckiest person on earth to be with him. What she and Gerard had was what love was really about. She and Adam never had that.

At the reception, (YN) was happily talking to Ray and Mikey with Gerard, who had his arm wrapped around her waist when she heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“Oh, hey Adam,” she said when she glanced back. Gerard’s grip on her waist grew tighter.

“Hey (YN), can we talk for a second?”

“Yea, sure,” she replied nervously.

Adam rubbed his hand over his face as she stepped away from her friends. “(YN), I just really wanna say I’m sorry.”

(YN) felt like she had been punched in the gut, as that was the last thing she expected to hear him say. “Oh,” was all that could escape her.

“I was a huge asshole to you, I realize that now. I never should have cheated, I didn’t realize how good I had it until you were gone.”

(YN) took in the words and nodded silently.

“And I’m not trying to come between you and Gerard, you two obviously have something good going. I can tell you’re happy, happier than you were with me.”

“Adam,” she started, annoyance in her tone.

“Sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just sorry, but glad you’re happy.”

“Thanks,” (YN) replied, before giving him a small wave and going back to Gerard.

“All good?” Gerard asked.

“Yea, everything is right in the world,” she replied with a smile as she wrapped her arms around him. “I love you Gee.”

“I love you too, (YN).”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #adam lazzara x reader

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