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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 25 days

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Away From Preying Eyes - Mikey Way x Reader

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: angst to fluff/hurt comfort Word Count: 2 851 Warnings: loooots of kissing; lack of communication, use of y/n Summary: The way Mikey keeps hiding your relationship causes doubts for his feelings to rise A/N: As per popular demand… I wrote this some two years ago I think. There are a few more stories, that I should proofread and publish… someday. Also i just realised i haven't published anything since the last chapter of Killjoys... oops. sorry.

Mikey’s lips were soft on yours, kissing you sweetly. It had been literally weeks since he had last kissed you like this, all the times in between having been hurried, squeezing as much passion into a short kiss as possible.

But now you could tell he was taking his time, his hands on your waist as you were leaning against the side of the bus, his tongue swiping over your lips lazily. One of your hands was buried in his back pocket, and you almost smiled into the kiss as you remembered the look he had given you, when you had done so: surprised at your boldness, intrigued and definitely a little turned on.

It really was unfortunate that you had to sneak around like this, holding hands and sharing kisses and whispered compliments only when nobody was around who could have witnessed it. It had all started out at the beginning of tour, when after the set, which had been weirdly emotional for all of you, Mikey had pulled you aside, into the narrow space between two curtains, and kissed you for the first time. That’s how it had started, the sneaking around.

You had been more than thrilled at this development, after all you had liked Mikey for a long time, and it was exciting to have a secret the others didn’t know about. It felt like a game of hide and seek, and until about two weeks ago you had not minded the secrecy at all. But then Frank’s girlfriend Jamia had come to visit.

The two of them were definitely not the over the top, love-dovey couple, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Frank would kiss her hair absentmindedly while listening to someone else talk, or how she would hook her thumb in one of his trousers’ belt loops while they were walking or standing next to one another. It made you wonder what it would be like to have this with Mikey, and slowly doubts began raising, doubts you really didn’t want to have.

What was this to Mikey? Did he even see this as a relationship, or was it just a fun thing at the side?

Until then you had always assumed you were a couple, as valid as Frank and Jamia, even if nobody knew. But maybe that was the problem. Nobody knew. Even if Mikey wanted to be with you, properly, more than just a quick make-out session in the long, empty corridors of an arena, or deserted hotel hallways, why were you telling nobody? Was he… was he ashamed of you? You hated when these thoughts started pressing in, especially when it happened in moments like right now, when his kisses were so sweet and caring, that they left no doubt that this was so much more to him than just fun.

You tried shooing the thoughts away, but before you had truly succeeded, Mikey had pulled away.

“Is something wrong,” he asked, his eyes carefully scanning your face, searching for the smallest hint of discomfort.

“Nothing,” you smiled, hoping it was convincing enough. “Everything’s good.”

“Hey, something’s off, I can tell,” Mikey insisted, and gently nudged his nose against your cheek, an affectionate gesture you had quickly learnt to love. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

You sighed. At the moment you really would have preferred continuing to kiss him than to talk about the stupid thoughts that had swarmed your mind. And they were stupid, you knew that. Every time Mikey touched you, or looked at you when you were alone, you knew that he cared deeply for you.

Maybe it was just the fear of giving your heart away and being left again. It had happened before.

Mikey cared for you, yes, but how could you know he cared for your as much as you cared for him? Well, you didn’t even expect him to love you the way you loved him. You just couldn’t help but wonder if this was something he wanted to pursue in the long run. And no matter how little you wanted to hear him tell you that it was just something that would last for the duration of this tour, he still deserved to hear your thought on the matter. So, you sighed again, and tilted your head, making space for Mikey as he trailed small kisses along your jaw towards your neck.

“It’s just- I can’t help but wonder-”

You were interrupted by the door to the bus jumping open, no six feet away from you.

Mikey’s reaction was immediate. Quicker than you were able to register, he had clamped one of his hands over your mouth, and – being taller than you – brought himself between the door and you, so you wouldn’t be spotted as easily. Even though the door blocked the view to whoever had opened it.

Those were the moments that really made you feel weird. The moments when Mikey was so quick to cover any and all interaction with you, never letting the others even get the faintest clue as to what was going on between the two of you. And for some reason, this time it stung more than before. If you only knew why he did that, why he was so keen on keeping your relationship, if it even was one to him, secret, then you absolutely wouldn’t have minded it but this way…

“(Y/N), Mikey!”

It was Frank, who had opened the door of the bus, but seemed to make no attempt at stepping outside. “(Y/N), Mikey! We’re gonna watch Dawn of the Dead!”

He waited a moment before he spoke something else, more muffled, and probably directed at the others inside the bus, before the door got pulled closed again.

“Let’s talk another time, alright,” Mikey suggested, still tense, but slightly more relaxed now, and you nodded. “You’ll go first?”

Again you nodded, quickly tucking at your shirt to make sure everything was in order, before you slipped past Mikey and headed towards the door of the bus. It had been stupid to think that Mikey and you might actually have a little time this once. You knew the others were waiting for you to come back from the drug store and for Mikey from saying hi to another band who had parked their bus not too far away on the festival grounds.

But maybe Frank had sort of saved you there. Otherwise, you would’ve had to tell Mikey how you felt about him, and especially after his reaction to almost having been found out just now, that felt even worse than confessing to your best friend.

With a last glance at Mikey, you pulled open the bus door, and climbed inside. Ray and Frank had already settled on the sofa, while Gerard was fumbling around with the TV.

“There you are,” Ray noticed and patted the empty seat next to him. “We already wondered what took you so long.”

“Couldn’t find the damn store,” you whined, dropping down next to Ray.

“Did you at least get what you were looking for,” Frank asked, before telling Gerard to try another button.

“Nope, they didn’t have my brand,” you lied. Of course the truth was that you had never looked for a drug store in the first place, and instead spent the past thirty minutes kissing Mikey. But now you could reuse the drug store excuse for the next time.

“Ugh, that sucks,” Frank rolled his eyes. “Oh, and have you seen Mikey? He’s been MIA since this morning.”

“No clue,” you shrugged, giving your best to sound indifferent. As if you didn’t know he was waiting outside just a little longer before coming in.

Indeed, just as Gerard had found the correct button on the old TV, Mikey opened the door, and with an apologizing hand gesture settled down between his brother and Frank.

While the others were focusing on the movie, you did your best not to look over at Mikey. You knew he had sensed something was up and would not stop asking about it before you told him the truth, and you were not sure you liked that prospect.

~*~

For two days you managed to escape Mikey. Two days in which you always managed to not get out of a situation with others, even though you knew he was waiting for you. You were evading him. Mikey knew that as well as you did. You knew eventually you’d have to talk to him, eventually you would have to ask him what this thing between you meant to him. Two days. And then your luck ran out in a dimly lit hotel corridor.

Mikey had waited in the open door to his room until you tried passing it on the way to yours, when he grabbed your wrist, and dragged you down the corridor and around the next corner. No rooms were here, only the small door to a broom closet. Nobody would look for you back here. And a huge potted plant gave you additional privacy.

You had let out a surprised squeal at him dragging you along all of a sudden, but you got quickly shut up by Mikey’s lips on yours. He was kissing you feverishly, as if it were the last time he ever would get to do it. You couldn’t blame him, after all, god knew what he had to think after you had evaded him for two days, not even allowing him his by now traditional post-show-kiss.

His hands were cradling your face, while he used the length of his body to keep you trapped against the wall, his lips desperately chasing yours. You kissed him back, suddenly not sure anymore how you had managed to deprive yourself of him for the past days.

Only when he was out of breath, did he pull away, leaning his forehead to yours with closed eyes.

“Talk to me,” he begged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, gently holding you there. Not forcefully, never forcefully. Rather the kind of touch that made it clear that he wanted to feel you, wanted you to stay, but would easily allow you to slip away, should you wish to do so. “What happened? What did I do?”

You swallowed thickly, opening your eyes to look at Mikey. His face was so close that you couldn’t focus on him properly, but you could make out his long dark lashes against his smooth skin, the slight stubble that grew on his cheeks. He looked troubled, even with eyes closed and as out of focus as he was right now, you could tell he looked troubled and worried.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, making him shake his head slightly.

“No, no. Don’t apologise,” Mikey disagreed. “You pulled away and there has to be a good reason for that. And I know it has to do with me, so don’t apologise, alright? I just- I want to fix it… if you’ll let me. I want to make things okay again. With us.”

“Is that really what you want,” you asked, finally pulling back a little.

Mikey’s eyes opened, and confused he looked at you.

“What?”

“Do you really want us?”

You could see the fraction of an inch that his eyes widened, the shock, the panic setting in, and almost instantly you felt bad for it. But this exact question had been plaguing you for too long now, so you had to ask it eventually.

“Yes, yes of course,” Mikey bubbled out. “Of course I want us. What- why would you think I didn’t?”

Ashamed you looked away. How the hell should you put all those thoughts and feelings into words, this fear of rejection, of just being a side-gig, the fear that he might be ashamed for you. How could you possibly put it into words without making it sound like you thought he was the bad guy in all of this?

A warm hand came up to your chin, and Mikey tilted your head up to look at him again.

“Why would you think I don’t love you?”

His words were like a knife through the heart, and you could feel tears rising.

“I just- you were so insistent on keeping everything a secret, it felt like-”

The moment the words had left your lips, realization hit Mikey and he groaned, and squeezed his eyes together, before he dropped his head backwards into his neck.

“Shit,” he swore quietly, “I knew I should’ve talked to you about it.” He took a deep breath and looked back at you; his brown eyes full of sorrow as they took you in. “It has absolutely nothing to do with you, it’s just- For as long as I can remember I was always Gerard’s little brother. Or My Chem’s bassist. Or Pete’s friend. And I love being these things. I love my brother, and I love the band and I love Pete, even though all three can really get on my nerves sometimes.

“But to other people I’m never more. I’m never Mikey. I’ve had girls want to date me just because then they’d get closer to my brother. As if he’d ever even think about doing something with a girl I was interested in at some point. Or interviewers ask me about everyone in the band but me. And whenever someone shows interest in me, it’s either because of Gee or because of the band.

“But with you I can just be myself, you know? I can just be Mikey. And- fuck, at first, I wasn’t sure if maybe I’m wrong this time too, that you’re just letting me kiss you because we’re in the same band, and maybe this doesn’t actually mean anything to you. But then we were in that studio, and you kissed my hand and I just knew that it you were actually looking at me-”

You remembered that interaction. A radio station had invited the band to record a song with them, and while everyone else had been busy setting up, you had snuck over to Mikey. It had been quick, the way you had taken his hand and pressed your lips to his knuckles.

You had been scared he’d be mad at you, since anybody could have seen, but the urge to show him some sort of appreciation had been overwhelming, and instead of getting mad, his cheeks had been dusted over a slight pink, so that a minute later Ray had asked if Mikey was feeling alright, or if he might be getting a fever.

“I’ve always been looking at you,” you interrupted Mikey quickly, making him smile sadly.

“I knew that then. I knew that, and it was, is, the most precious thing in my life. And I didn’t want to share it. We, the band, we spend so much time on such narrow space. We know literally everything about each other. But this – that you were looking at me for me – this was my secret, and I wanted to protect it so badly from preying eyes… And I completely forgot that to you it had to seem like I didn’t care enough or-”

Mikey broke off, unable to phrase the words both of you were thinking.

“It’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. Because I made you feel like you weren’t desired, and trust me, that’s as far away from the truth as it gets.”

“I made you feel awful too, not telling you what I was thinking and avoiding you for two days.”

“At least now I know why. So, if you want to tell the others, then I’m fine with that. I don’t feel quite ready for the rest of the world to know, but if that’s what you want, I’ll learn to-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted him. “It’s not what I want. We don’t even have to tell the others, not now at least. I wanted to know why we were keeping it a secret, and now I do. Hell, I can even understand how you feel, parts of it at least. And it’s okay for me to do it at your pace, as long as you promise it won’t last just for this tour.”

“I never meant for it to just last for this tour,” Mikey shook his head in disbelief. “Not with you. I love you too much for that.”

That was the second time now that he had said he loved you. Trying to keep your smile in check, you bit your lip before answering.

“I love you too, Mikey.”

He smiled then, brighter than you had ever seen him smile before, and leant in again, kissing you once more, slower, calmer this time, but with unguarded love, and still smiling, both of you finally certain that your feelings for one another were reciprocated.

A few meters away, Frank silently closed the door to his hotel room, giving a thumbs up to his band mates, letting them know Mikey and you had made up. They’d continue playing the oblivious fools for as long as Mikey and you needed them to.

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starg1rlblog · 2 years

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What are Friends for

(sorta) gerard way x fem!reader x frank iero

warning: 18+, taboo, kinda? cuckold, fem!receiving, praising, lowkey cocky frank, voyerism? written fast might have grammar errors. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Frank had you in his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder to get a perfect view. Your legs spread wide open with your bare, wet pussy exposed. One hand around your neck and the other fingering you; His middle and wedding ring fingers penetrated you tenderly. You squirmed in his grasp unable to keep still from the pleasure. Your boyfriend, Gerard was in shock at the sight; His best friend fucking his girlfriend. His face grew pale as his mouth fell open. He noticed your body was glistening with sweat, your legs trembling, while your chest was heaving up and down rapidly. Frank’s been going at it with you for hours.

“What are you doing?” was all Gerard could conjure up. Frank chuckled lowly, shifting his eyes briefly away from you to Gerard, “What does it look like?” His thumb rub circles on your clit, still slamming his fingers into your cunt. You bucked your hips up with a mewl. “God, she’s loving this,” Frank bragged. He looked back up at Gerard with a devilish grin, quirking an eyebrow, “Is she this much of a whore for you…or just for me?”

“Stop it,” Gerard threatened with gritted teeth. He wasn’t going to do anything, really. He wasn’t going to separate you two or walk off. He was wrapped around your finger, he wouldn’t leave you. He stood there and watched you have the time of your life with his band mate.

Frank scuffed, “and leave her hanging? she’s so close, just look at her.” He curled his fingers abusing your g-spot. You whined and brought your hand up to stroke Frank’s cheek; you needed to feel him. “Oh, i think she likes me,” Frank teased winking at Gerard. He was loving this; seeing Gerard grow frustrated at the sight of you two. He let his hand go from your throat to caress your breasts — squeezing them gently. The sound of your wet pussy being fucked by Frank’s fingers echoed in the room, taunting Gerard. Your lewd, “ah, aaahh, ah~” pierced Gerard with jealousy. You tried to close your legs but Frank brought his hand down to keep them open, gripping at your inner thigh and pressing it down to the mattress. You let out a loud, “fuuuckk~” as you squirted on Frank’s fingers. Frank kept fucking you through your high watching in amusement. Your body lifting up from the mattress while you rode out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” He praised letting his fingers finally slow down. “Whatcha think, Gerard? She a good girl?”

#mcr smut #gerard way smut #frank iero smut #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance smut #gerard way x reader #frank iero x reader #mcr fanfic #mcr blurb #mcr x reader #gerard way x reader smut #frank iero x reader smut

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eleuphoric · 1 month

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𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝! 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞: 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭

(𝐃𝐨𝐦) 𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐱 (𝐒𝐮𝐛) 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

•𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄• 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙮 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩, 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙨, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙨•

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

•𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙗 + 𝙨𝙝𝙚/𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨•

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜! 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘮 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘩), 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵/𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮/𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Time had become nothing but a concept, its grasp slipping away. All you knew was him. You were unsure of how long you had been held captive at this point, that wasn't important. What was important was staying on your best behavior for Gerard.

It was chilling how fast he could switch up, his soft possessive demeanor could easily become that of a monster. A single misstep could end horribly. Your body, littered with bruising and scars throbbed with pain. While your grip of reality slipped away. Clinging onto the shadows of the cold yet familiar basement. The basement. Isolation became your companion. Gerard knew this, purposefully isolating you to create a dependency on him.

He was drawn to your strength, your independence. It heightened his satisfaction being able to slowly break you down into nothing but his property. A meek kitten for him to do as he pleases.

Today had started no different, only wearing a pair of thin panties as well as an oversized t-shirt. Wearing clothes gave you some sort of dignity in this place, yet your clothes lingered with the scent of Gerard’s cologne, a constant reminder of his presence. As you lay cold on the floor, you hear the familiar thudding. The sound that you oh so feared. His heavy step crashing against the withered wood of the stairs as he made his way down. As soon as he reached the bottom, a cynical grin grew on his face as he saw you, excitedly approaching you in the dim corner. “Good morning sugar, I hope you slept well”. His lips crashed against yours, his hands went straight to your hips as he held you against the support beam you were restrained to.

You winced, he put his full body weight on you, his lips trailing along your neck, seeking closeness. “I have some bad news, angel,” he murmured. You couldn’t fathom what “bad news” entailed in Gerard’s mind, bad news to him probably meant something great for you. Yet, a knot of anxiety sat in your stomach.

“I have to leave for a bit, handle some matters.” he explained, his tone almost apologetic. “It pains me to leave you, but it’s necessary, I hope you in understand.”

This was your chance, a fleeting chance for freedom. It took some planning on your part, you'd have to be on your best behavior, and persuade him to remove your restraints. The days dragged by, time elusive in your confinement. You had avoided punishment as much as possible, but completely pleasing Gerard was a task that was impossible. He'd always find a reason to punish you, it gave him even more power over you.

The day finally arrived, the day that you had longed for. You had been on your best behavior, doing exactly as Gerard said, and overall appearing a lot happier. All that mattered was getting him to say yes. As usual, he walked down the creaking stairs, today he was dressed nicer. A maroon sweater paired with some khakis and dress shoes. His hair was done for once, nicely parted to the side. You hated to admit it to yourself, but he actually looked pretty handsome today. His put together appearance hid the fact that there was something else going on inside of him.

“Hi my angel, I hope you slept well”. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, his breath was fresh like sweet mint as it tickled your nose. Pulling back, he noticed the slight grin on your face, “You excited to see me, sugar?” You nodded softly, gazing into his hazel eyes. You stared for a little longer, you had never really noticed the specks of green and blue before and it was quite pretty. Over time, you found yourself discovering the allure in Gerard, pondering the possibility of a life together beyond these confines.

“Mhm.” You responded, snapping back to reality. Gerard leaned in closer, brushing his lips against your ear and whispering, “M’ gonna miss you princess, I’m sorry I have to leave, it’s important”. He never told you what was going on outside of the basement, or how long he’d be gone. It kept you on your toes, waiting for his return.

“But- since you’ve been such a good girl for me, I’m gonna take the restraints off,” It was almost as if he read your mind. Your plan had worked, but not in the way you planned. Nonetheless, it was the moment you had been waiting for, the chance to seize your opportunity for freedom.

Gerard untied your arms from the support beam he had you tied to. revealing deep ridges and bruises from the prolonged use of ropes. As the bindings fell away, It was freeing, feeling your own body once again after what felt like a lifetime.

“Behave while I’m gone my love”. Gerard swept in, kissing you once more before venturing back up the stairs. You heard the creak of the door, then the slam. After waiting in your silence, it was finally time. Your legs wobbled as you began to stand up, being stuck to the floor for so long had weakened your capabilities to walk, and it took a few moments for you to bring yourself together.

Pushing away your anxiety you stepped forward, making your way towards the stairs. The cold felt electric against your bare feet, getting used to walking again. Despite the pain and stiffness, you pushed forward, fueled by your chance to escape.

You made your way to the stairs, scanning them up and down as you planted your foot on the step. The stairs creaked, echoing in the depths of the basement. With each step you gained confidence running upstairs reaching the door. Your hand grasped the cold metal knob and slowly turned it, making the realization that it had been unlocked. Gerard wasn’t one to forget these things, but you pushed your thoughts aside hoping it was a mistake.

You find yourself on the first floor of a small house. The walls decorated with torn wallpaper, and the floor cluttered with random debris. Gerard had little regard for cleanliness, a fitting trait for someone who keeps a person locked up in their basement.

Swiftly turning your head down the hallway, finding the front door, you make a beeline for it, your mind completely filled with thoughts of esacape, You swung open the door, light flooded your face, the fresh air entered your nose. It all distracted you until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and the other yank you back.

Your heart dropped to the floor. He planned it, just as you had planned to escape. His arms brought you to the ground having you pinned beneath his grasp with one hand pressing your neck against the old wooden floor. “You really thought I’d leave you alone, and the door left unlocked? I thought you were smarter than that sugar.” His manic demeanor sent chills down your spine. Nothing else filled your mind but pure terror, having no other response but to beg for mercy.

“Please Gerard, I’m so sorry please I won’t do it again I’ll do whatever you want please don’t hurt me!” Tears welled up in your eyes, and he just laughed, that sinister smile growing back on his face as he sat amused by your pathetic attempts to take it back.

“Oh it’s too late for that now princess.” He hissed, his words sharp as knives as he dipped his one hand into his back pocket, pulling out a blade. The shine glistening against the sunlight pooling into the house.

Gerard pressed the knife against you lower stomach, the sharp tip pinching the skin as he stared into your soul. “Did you forget who you belong to?“ The words quickly filled your head, mustering out a “You! I belong to you Sir please, please don’t hurt me.” Once again he chuckled. “You need to be taught a lesson, learn what happens when you try to outsmart me. That’s what dumb girls like you get when you try to outsmart your master.” You began whimpering, the hold on your throat restricting your airflow as he slowly dragged the knife against your stomach. You couldn’t see what was happening, but there was a dull pain as he began to carve into you, his smile never breaking. He finally shoved the blade into his back pocket whilst examining the fresh cuts. Letting out short gasps and whimpers, you felt despair. Utter and true despair. Gerard pressed two of his cold fingers against the wounds, watching your body flinch from the shock and pain. He lifted his fingers towards his face, admiring the red that covered them before pressing his tongue against them.

Watching him lick himself clean of your blood was sickening. His eyes rolled back as the metallic taste littered his tongue, feeling nothing but euphoria.

The world slowly began to turn dark due to your lack of oxygen, your limbs slowly weakening as it all seemed to disappear away. Gerard quickly noticed, slapping your face firmly to bring you back. The burning on your cheek distracted you from the pain on your abdomen. “Stay awake, I want you awake for this next part.”

Gerard swiftly unbuckled his belt as you lay helpless on the floor. You knew better than to try and escape after what had happened. His cock was rock hard against his boxers, a small patch of precum making itself visible as he pulled himself out. “Like what you see angel?” Red grew against your cheeks as arousal flooded your core. You scolded yourself for finding pleasure in this, helpless against the floor as your captor abuses you.

Gerard slowly stroked his cock a few times before ripping off your panties in one swift motion. The cool air hit your glistening folds running a shiver down your spine. He brought his cock down, gathering wetness on the tip. “You’re soaked princess, are you sure you didn’t try to escape so I’d give it to you rough?” You shook your head quickly, speechless due to the heat quickly growing between your thighs. “Mm, what’s all this then sugar?” Gerard pushed his cock into your hole, the stretch causing you to let out an involuntary moan as he pushed against your pulsing walls.

He quickly set a brutal pace, holding your legs up to your chest as he thrusted back and forth ruthlessly. “Is this what you needed? To be fucked so hard by me that you can’t think of anything else.” Gerard could barely speak, his groans filled the room as well as your whimpers and moans. His cock bounced against your cervix, causing a mix of pain and pleasure as his thick length assaulted your poor hole.

His hand found its way back to your throat, the sudden sensation causing a gasp to leave your mouth. Gerard wasted no time at leaning forward and spitting into your mouth. The lingering taste of your blood filled your mouth causing a sudden shock of nausea at the reminder.

You were approaching the edge, you could fill your walls begin to tighten as Gerard continued to thrust relentlessly. “You’re such a desperate little girl for me, the second I give you anything you’re on the floor begging for more. You just can’t help be nothing but my pathetic little pet huh?”

His voice dripped in your ears like honey, the whole world seemed to stop around you, and all that mattered was him. His darkened eyes never leaving your eyesight. “Please m’gonna cum please sir.” You begged, losing any dignity you had remaining by completely submitting to him. “Oh fuck~ that’s a good girl for me, found your manners finally?” His thrusts grew sloppier as you both finally reached your peaks, pleasure washing over you as you saw stars. “Oh fuckk, m’ gonna fill you up princess, leave you dripping with my cum.” Gerard slammed as deep as possible into you, letting out a yelp as you felt his hot cum paint your walls. Whimpering beneath him he stayed inside you for what felt like eternity.

He finally pulled out, both of your juices mixing with eachother as your whole body was brought back to reality. Blood was smeared all across Gerard and yours stomachs from the friction. He wasted no time in picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom.

Gerard gently placed you in the bathtub before running the water, flinching at the cold shock. “Shshsh, it’s ok my love.” Giving your head soft pets as he began to fill the tub with bubbles. You hadn’t received a normal bath since you arrived, only having been wiped down with a washcloth and some soap.

You shivered in both fear and cold as the tub began to fill up, remnants of the day filling your mind as Gerard began to gently wash your hair. “You did so good for me princess, you took your punishment so well.” The words shouldn’t have comforted you, but it brought you a sense of peace knowing he felt proud of you. The aroma of the lavender began to fill the room as he continued to wash you, being extra gentle around your aching wounds.

Once he finished he wrapped you in a towel, bringing you to his bedroom. Carrying you he gently laid you on the bed before going to his closet to retrieve some clothes for you. It was unexpected, the amount of anger and malice that was shown before had seemed to disappear as he took more care of you than he ever had.

Gerard helped you get dressed, wearing nothing but panties and a shirt like usual. Grabbing your hand gently he guided you to the side of the bed. You laid down on the firm mattress, the sheets were soft from wear and his comforter was warm. The overwhelming sensation of being in a bed after being in the desolate basement quickly tired you. Gerard snuck his way on the other side of the bed before wrapping his arm around your waist. “Goodnight sugar, sleep well.” He pressed a soft kiss against the back of your neck before drifting off to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

𝙝𝙞 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚! 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚! 𝙞 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙞𝙩! 𝙞 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩!

-𝙚𝙡

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moonxmagix · 9 months

Text

MCR Songs & their vibes

MCR songs and whether I think they’re day, night, sunrise, or sunset songs. Also adding seasons. If you get it, you get it. If you don’t then idk what to tell you homie. I do get carried away & include scenarios I personally picture with the songs. It took me a couple hours to write this so please read. This might make more sense for my fellow autistics though:

First album: Bullets

As an overall album I don’t have a set season for it BUT if I had to pick it would be a transition from Summer to Fall. It’s also more of a Day album for me but not ever sunny. With exception of sunsets.

Romance - Sunset but when the sun is almost down, Summer but transitioning into Fall

HTMIBHFTBOU - Night but just after Sunset, still that Summer to Fall transition

Vampires - Night, but sometimes fits a cloudy rainy day, Fall

Drowning Lessons - Night, probably around 9pm, then again I get rain vibes, Fall but exceptionally chilly this day

Our Lady of Sorrows - Night, Fall, i imagine being aggressively drunk to this song in some small shitty venue

Headfirst for Halos - Day but slowly transitions into sunset, nice fall day

Skylines and Turnstiles - Day but super rainy/cloudy to where it looks night, Fall

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville - Day and night because it starts off nice then progressively gets darker, winter

TITBDE - Sunset/night but like right after the sunset, i imagine being at the fairground & setting the firewheel ablaze, Summer transition into Fall

Cubicles - Day but cloudy, Fall but getting close to winter, being miserable at a shitty corporate office job, coffee & cigarettes

Demolition Lovers - Day into night, Winter, blood in the snow

Second Album: Revenge

Easily a Fall album with SOME Winter exceptions. From the story we know I get lots of vibes of murder and suicide. I get lots of screaming and yelling between a couple vibes too. Definitely a Night time album overall.

Helena - Day but rainy & cloudy, funeral vibes but that’s so obvious, peak Fall

Give ‘em Hell Kid - Day but very cloudy it’s almost night, Fall, definitely ‘just got out of school 4 the day’ vibes

To The End - Night, a very eerie night somewhere in the woods bc you & your friends found a vampires mansion and the lore to the house is that a husband & wife lived there but they killed each other, Fall

YKWTDTGLUIP - Night but you're in prison so you don’t care what time of the day it is, Fall but it’s a bit chillier because it’s ALMOST winter

I’m Not Okay (I promise) - Day, cloudy school day with light drizzle, Fall but a bit warmer but it feels like summer because the gym teacher made you run laps outside & you threw up on the side

The Ghost of You - Day/night but cloudy (Kinda going off MV), Winter probably

TJLIGKY - Late Night, downtown somewhere sketchy in a hotel, missing person vibes tbh, rain, Fall transition into Winter

Venom - Night but early on, I imagine fighting for something you want/to keep living/fighting for love even if it’s not necessarily romantic love

Hang ‘Em High - Day, Sunny fall day, emo cowboy vibes idc!, Sunset later on in the song though, very sinister & hungry eyes, possession comes to mind here

Fashion Statement - Night but just turned, graveyard, crawling out of coffin in ground, Fall but foggy

Cemetery Drive - Day but cloudy and rainy, when you were found on the bathroom floor though it was night, staring out the window like a movie, Fall

INTYWIDFAL - Dead of the Night, lots of mania & killing, Staring at the mirror with blood on your hands, Fall

Third Album: Black Parade

This album is Winter through and through! Definitely a transition into Day from Night. Themes of death obvi and incompletion and self hatred. Lots of fire and potentially setting stuff ablaze, so arson! Memories on memories.

The End - Day but you’re in an auditorium watching a play/musical until Night, lots of screaming & agony, Fall but just about Winter

Dead! - Day but it’s cloudy, lots of dreaming & being taunted by death, Winter

TIHID - Night, being in the woods late at night, walking in snow barefoot & blood trailing behind, seeing ghost, Winter

The Sharpest Lives - Night but it’s 2am, drunk, cigarettes, trying to comes to term w/ your career & how you won't achieve anything, Winter

WTTBP - Day into Night, cloudy, dead of Winter but lot’s of fire to keep warm, seeing death finally

I Don’t Love You - Day but cloudy & rainy, Fall transition into winter, painful breakup but we knew that

House of Wolves - Night but downtown vibes so the lights keep everything alive, running from cops vibes, personal rebellion against church & religion, reminiscing on running the streets with friends when young, the memories are Summer but song is Winter

Cancer - Right after Sunrise, patient dies early in the cloudy morning, body stays in bed until Night though so family can visit, lots of flashback of memories, Winter

Mama - Night, arguing with family, lots of anger, war flashbacks, rainy Winter

Sleep - 4am Night, nightmares, sleeping in shitty hotel, haunted hotel, creaky floorboards, sleep paralysis, Winter

Teenagers - Day, Fall, zombie like & judgy teenagers, reminiscing on teenage years, violence

Disenchanted - Night, drinking yourself away, disappointment, feeling like you didn’t do enough, Winter, around Christmas

Famous Last Words - Night 12am, realizing your memory will forever live on, coming to terms w/ death, Winter but the fire is enough to keep you warm

Fourth Album: Danger Days

If you say anything else but Summer you're just wrong. Blazing summer heat & just sweaty musty & dusty mf’s. Themes of fighting for what’s right, the power of friendship & love. Partying in the desert. Obviously a Day time album.

Na Na Na - Day, blazing hot in the desert, partying at some underground rave, hanging head out window to shoot the corporation ppl, robbery, Summer

Bulletproof Heart - Sunset, lots of smiling & laughing w/ crush, trying to runaway with crush to somewhere better, one of the lovers dies because of Korse, Summer but it’s very breezy

SING - Night, “I’m gonna save the world” vibes, sneaking around, cool Summer night

Planetary (GO!) - Sunset but it’s just about to be night, partying, lots of colorful lazerbeams and strobe, very sweaty, Summer

TOHFMIY - Sunset, fighting for friends & showing them love, taking pictures with friends on a desert cliff, Summer

Party Poison - Day, pompous ass character, fighting for what’s right, protest, Summer

SYIHTB - Day into Night, fighting off the Exterminators, stealing cars & sneaking off, sneaky make out session, helping friends get away from Exterminators, Summer

Scarecrow - Day almost Sunset, feeling safe, finding a place to rest & collect thoughts, maybe mourn the people you lost, being found & have to keep moving, Summer but it’s not humid

Summertime - Day into Night, so much love, finally got with crush, telling story of them, sappy, laying in the desert/on-top of car & staring at the stars, hot Summer day but chilly night

Destroya - Day, horny, so hot you had to get almost naked, fighting against corporation by holding a concert of sorts to raise awareness, borderline dehydration, blazing Summer heat

The Kids From Yesterday - Sunset, reminiscing hard, missing childhood/younger self, living in the moment, hand holding w/ friends, realizing you’re not actually alone, Summer into Fall

Vampire Money - Day, causing chaos with friends, so many crimes, more crimes, scary teenagers, selling soul for fame, Summer in Los Angeles

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chemical-killjoy · 8 months

Note

Can you do Coffee Shop AU x Accidental kiss

With Y/N And Gerard Way?

Of course!! Sorry it took so long! It's been a hell of a month lol

Kisses and Coffee

Gerard x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Gerard and Y/N meet in a coffee shop, become friends and more after an accidental kiss

You had been coming to your favourite coffee shop for the last decade, and upon learning that it closed, you were on the hunt for a new one. This devastating news left you wandering around town for a while until you saw a cute little cafe you had never been too before. And there was something about it that just felt right.

You took a small two-person table by the window in the corner of the cafe and looked around. It shop was a light blue-grey with paintings of flowers and posters decorating the walls. The air smelt of coffee, toast and biscuits. There was a hum of noise as the cafe was, while small, pretty full, and it felt like a warm hug.

Once you saw the menu, you were sold. This had to be your new coffee place, I mean, they sold churros!! And ham and cheese croissants! In the same place? Insane in the best way. You ordered a mocha and muffin and were snuggled up with a book while waiting when a hand landed on your shoulder.

“Wow, you're early for a change!” The voice that greeted you was warm, but unfamiliar. You turned around to face the stranger, and the poor man's face dropped.

“I'm so sorry, you are not the person I thought you were,” he said slowly, standing awkwardly and putting his hands in his pockets.

“It's OK, happens all the time,” you lied, giving the man a small smile to put him at ease. He had kind eyes and smile, with an air about him that just made you feel comfort able. There was something about him that soothed you, despite the random introduction.

The man sat down at a table in the opposite corner, and as your food and coffee arrived, he waited for a person that never showed.

You were so engrossed in your book, that when you finished the last few pages, your coffee (what was left of it) was cold, and your muffin barely touched. You put the book down and took a minute to return to reality. You looked up to see the man from earlier checking his watch once again, sighing and looking down at the table. You knew that look well.

You walked over before you could stop yourself.

“Hi,” you started, unsure of yourself. “Mind if I join you?”

“Ah, sure! Doesn't seem like she's coming anyway.” The man replied.

“I thought I recognised that look. I'm sorry,” you said, looking away. “Hey, my name's Y/N.”

“Gerard. Nice to meet you.” Gerard held out a hand, which you took softly. There was a warmth to it that mad you smile.

You sat down, thinking of how to start A Conversation. How do people do that again? Luckily Gerard swooped in to end the awkward silence.

“What book are you reading? You seemed super engrossed in it?”

“Yeah? Sometimes I get carried away when I read, it's like I'm not really on Earth and I'm in the book, watching like a fly on the wall,” you laughed, “Sometimes I get so invested, I make faces and gasp out loud without realising I'm doing it.”

Gerard giggled. “You know you've got a good book on your hands when that happens. So what kind of stories are you into?” He asked, and you launched into a long and comfortable conversation, as though you'd both known each other for centuries.

It had been a few months since you first met, but you and Gerard would meet up every week, having your own miniature book club that eventually turned into exchanging CDs and long heart to hearts til the coffee shops closed and the pubs became quiet.

Over time you struggled to keep your feelings or the man at bay. He was kind and cuddly, but strong and brave, and you just admired him so much. It was hard to stay friends when you watched him talk and focused more on his lips than the words he was speaking.

And though you didn't know it, Gerard got more and more comfortable with you, and found himself falling as well. The small gestures became touches, a soft brush of the hand when passing you something, leaning his head on your shoulder in a booth when you're tired, hugs that last just a moment longer than intended, and the occasional kiss on the cheek when it had been a while. You were scared to think that maybe it was only in your mind that his lips lingered for a breath longer than a friend.

It was a cool night and you and Gerard were meeting up at a pub, as you'd been busy with work all day but you both needed some time away from it all, happily finding refuge in each other.

The pub was a warm and vibrant atmosphere, people laughing, mugs clinking, and staff weaving through the crowd, remarkably spilling nothing. You struggled to find Gerard in the crowd, but suddenly there was a hand on the small of your back. You turned around and the scowl on your face shifted to a smile.

“Gee! How are you!” You cried giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek... or what you intended to be a kiss on the cheek. Gerard had the same idea, and you both went in the same direction. Your lips collided in a short and quick peck that sent electricity through both of you, pulling away with wide eyes.

Gerard laughed. “Well, I'm good now,” he said with a flirting smirk, and you turned your head and blushed.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-” you started, flustered.

“No no it's fine, I'm sorry, hey, how about we grab a seat?” Gerard stopped you.

You spent a few hours happily munching on hot chips and a burger, and sipping a cider while you chatted about anything and everything you could possibly think of, Gerard talking your ear off equally. By the time your food was gone and your drinks disappeared, the pub was nearly empty and a comfortable quiet came over you both.

Gerard looked at you.

“You know, you had nothing to apologise for, right?” Gerard asked, out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“When we kissed. I know it was an accident and all but you didn't need to apologise. I actually, um, I didn't mind it. I wouldn't mind it again.”

You looked away, cheeks heating up fast. When you didn't answer fast enough, Gerard tried to backtrack.

“'M sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, you know what, just forget I said it, it didn't happen and doesn't really matter anyway, I me-”

“Gee.” Was all you had to say to silence him.

You looked up at him with the Y/E/C eyes that he adored with all his heart. Even if your lips never touched his again, he decided he'd be content to just have your eyes stay on his for a few more moments. But you took him by surprise, putting you hand on his and then kissing his cheek. When you pulled away, you shyly bit your lip.

Gerard leant forward slowly, and kissed the skin where your cheek meets your lips, desperate to prove his point, lost for words, and terrified to scare you off. His lips stayed on your skin for a moment longer and you felt his breath on your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. You pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed, noses rubbing for a moment, before you both leaned in and kissed. It was magic. Not the extreme, passionate, thrilling heat. No. But soft. Calm. Warm. Like the safety coming home from a storm. The contentment of a good book. The joy and comfort of your favourite coffee shop.

The kiss ended and you both barely pulled away, soft smiles on your faces, light in your eyes, and quiet laughter drifting from you.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Gerard said, hand still behind your neck.

“You have no idea how much I need you to do it again.”

And with that, your lips met. And would meet, again, again and again.

Taglist:

This is a new account, I was @immrbrightsideeee so please click here if you were and still want to be on my taglist, or if you want to be added (it'd mean a lot!)

@fandomfoodiedancer @smiling-girl @niche-bitch @charlie-rulerofhell

#gerard way #gerard way x reader #gerard x reader #accidental kiss #kisses and coffee #mcr x reader #mcr #gerard way fanfic #mcr fanfic #fluff

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i-am-arkham-asylum · 8 days

Text

peteisnotacreep.livejournal.com April 1, 2008

//the hang ups when fucking (yourself during a phone call)

a dial tone turns me on

i hope god hangs up; i keep calling him with how many times i’ve said his name or maybe yours is holy now but holy / hell is an overdone metaphor somewhere between the hell that is the souls of my feet and the heaven that is the arch of my mind is the purgatory of my hips

a black hole feeling, i try to fill, but nothing sticks i want kevlar in this porcelain word i want the record of your teeth in my neck i want love in handcuffs i want you rooted so deep i’ll never feel empty again i want to wake up and be forced to remember

when people ask me where my voice went i’ll just sign your name if i bruise myself will they still have the shape of your fingerprints love is just a pyramid scheme with the way you're always on top stripped down to nothing except the chain around my neck

pavlov(ed) myself to the ring of a phone now guess i’m just that fucking predictable a one note kazoo you can blow my right hand is fucked i know the zipper of jeans like most truckers know the i80//

Source

#petekey #pete wentz #mikey way #my chemical romance #fall out boy #bandom #fanfic #fob fanfic #mcr fanfic

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strawbszz · 2 years

Text

Cute Paintings And Love

Paring: Gerard way x Gn!reader

Rating: fluff

Requested: none

Word Count: 764

Era: 2003 Gee / basement Gerard

Summary: you came over to your friend Gerard’s house to make comics and draw and you confess to him.

You and Gerard had been friends for about 5 years! About a year ago you started to have a crush on him but you were too scared at the time to tell him so you bottled it up and felt sad about it.

You and Gee make comics and paint all the time together! But it’s always at his house because he never leaves his cave of a home.

It made you happy that you and Gerard were into the same things like music, art, and music!

You both loved to watched movies at his house and draw. It made you both happy since you were Gerard’s only friend besides his brother Mikey.

You and Mikey are pretty good friends and you tell him about everything. Same with Gerard but some things can’t be said to Gerard like you liking him of course. So you ether bottle it up or tell Mikey and hope he does not tell him or you would do.. mean things to him. Which you definitely would not hurt Mikey because he’s like a brother to you! But Mikey can’t take you serious because you’re not scary or intimating to him.

You knew Gerard had nothing to do that day since he stays home all day and you only see him at school. So you decided to bike to his house and make comics with him and watch movies with him.

You arrive to Gerard’s little house. It’s nice and warm looking.

You get off your bike and walk over to the door and knock in it.

You wait patently after you knocked on the door waiting for Gerard.

“Gerard!!! Your friend is here!!!” You hear Mikey say through the door.

Mikey opens the door. “Hi (Y/N).”

“Hi Mikey!!” You hug Mikey.

He hugs you back. He giggles. “Okay well come inside.”

You hum in response.

You walk in to their house. It’s nice and homey feeling. It’s nice and familiar small home. It has old 80s wood walls and warm lighting.

You walk to Gerard’s room to see him trying to clean up quickly before you walk in.

You knock on the door frame. “Hey, Gerard.”

Gerard jumps and looks at you. He’s blushing from embarrassment that he was not done cleaning before you came in. “H-hey..!”

You walk into his room. “You don’t need to clean up for me. My room is worst.” You say.

“I bet your room didn’t have dirty underwear and clothes on the floor.” Gerard giggles.

You laugh.

“Wanna watch a movie??” Gerard says.

“Hmm.. sure! And we can work on that comic!!” You say.

“Oh my god yeah!!!” Gerard says.

You both smile.

You two are laying in Gee’s bed with the paper to draw the comics. You two are watching a horror movie. It’s The Shining. You both love that movie.

“Hmm.. should I do this..” Gerard mumbles.

“What?” You say in a slight high pitch voice.

“Should he die or blast her with his gun..” Gerard says.

You laugh. “Duh blast that girl! He’s the main character so he wins.” You say.

Gerard giggles. “Yeah.. that makes sense.”

He draws it out very quickly with nice skill.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

“You okay, (Y/N)..?” Gerard says.

You hum yes. You sit up quickly and sit in your legs and look him in the eyes.

Gerard looks confused.

“I-I have something t-to tell you..” you say.

Gerard nods his head.

You can feel your face getting hot. “I- I… I like you..” you say. Your eyes fill up with tears from embarrassment.

“I-I uh… I like you too, (Y/N)..” Gerard says.

“Really?” Your face lights up.

Gee hums yes. His face is burning red.

Gee sits up a little bit and makes eye contact with you.

Gerard cups your face and rubs your cheek.

He kisses you softly. It’s nice and warm. Gee smells like paint and waffles.

You can feel your face glowing red.

You tearing up from happiness.

You both stop kissing. Your face is about 2 inches away from Gerard’s face.

“You’re so pretty..” Gerard mumbles. He’s breathing heavily. His hazel eyes look so soft and mesmerizing. His lips are swollen. His cheeks are nice and red.

“A-are you okay..?!” Gerard says worried about you. He cups your face and wipes the tears away from your eyes.

You giggle. “I’m fine.. it’s happy tears..!” You smile.

Gerard kisses you softly and slowly.

You stop kissing him slowly and you look at him.

“You wanna snuggle..?” You say softly.

Gerard smiles softly. He hums yes.

233 notes · View notes

thewordworrier · 5 months

Text

If You Marry Me

Sometimes, the only thing you can say is: "I do." Or, a problem arises during the Revenge Tour and the quickest solution is... Kinda awkward, actually.

Word Count: 27,000 ish - and change. (In parts, obviously). Notes: ~ Title from "To The End" by My Chemical Romance, obviously. ~ A little swearing here and there, f-bombs mostly. (Thank you Miss Lux. The majority come from you.) ~ Regular setting of Shelly working for the band etc, so her Origin Story would be canon in this slight AU. ~ This has been sitting in GoogleDocs for a little while. Not too long, but longer than I'd like because I'm not totally happy with the ending. ~ It's what I previously refered to in Writing Log posts as "the refleshening" - or things of that ilk. ~ One day my brain was like "Remember Imaginary Wedding Gown? What if she said yes?" - a few tweaked plot details later, and here we are. ~ The original draft was 11,564 words. ~ I may have mixed up some terms, but that's okay, it's just fanfic, it's not serious.

~ Little Miss Lux is the gremlin brainchild of my wife - @robinrunsfiction - but I love her like she's my own demon-child.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

#She Speaks #She Writes #my fanfic #MCR fanfic #Gerard Way x FOC #IYMM

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ghoulgirlwrites · 2 years

Text

You’re the One That Gets Into My Head

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader

Era: Revenge

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~2200

Summary/Request: hi there! if i could have a request where the reader uses she/her pronouns with frank from the revenge era, with the sharing one bed trope + enemies to lovers, that would be great. if not, totally okay!! 🥰🖤🖤

A/N: Title is taken from How These Things Go by The Wild & Free, one of my fave indie bands. Also the line where he asks to kiss her is taken from The Program by Suzanne Young, my new favorite book. Enjoy!

You and Frank had hated each other on sight, ever since that first band practice when you’d auditioned to be their keyboardist. That had been a few months ago. You weren’t really sure who or what had started it, but you two just didn’t get along. Despite that, when the band had voted on whether you should be their keyboardist, he’d voted yes. It wasn’t professional, it was personal.

Everything he did annoyed you. His incessant pot smoking. His propensity for acting like a wild animal onstage and knocking over everything in sight (he’d damaged your keyboard more than once, but had paid for the repairs with a nonchalant apology that you didn't believe for a second). His habit of getting in everyone’s space. His stupid laugh. His stupid smile. His stupid voice. The stupid way you could feel him watching you onstage.

You were on tour with MyChem while you promoted Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. You had a few days off between shows, so you decided to have some fun. Well, as much fun as you could have while hanging around with Frank.

“Hey, I bet you ten bucks I can get the bartender’s number,” Frank said to Ray, nudging him with an elbow.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a pig.”

Frank snorted, giving an uncanny impression of the aforementioned animal, grinning at you. You hated the way his lip ring glinted in the low light of the bar.

“She’s just a woman doing her job,” you continued, glaring at Frank.

Frank arched an eyebrow, his grin turning into a smirk. “What, are you jealous, Y/N?”

“Of course not!” You grumbled, but you couldn’t ignore how your cheeks burned and you hoped he didn’t notice.

You also couldn’t ignore the fact that, underneath all that hatred, you were hopelessly drawn to Frank. And it wasn’t for nothing. You had eyes and could tell he was attractive. And he wasn’t a total monster. For instance, there had been times when you’d been harassed by guys on the road and he’d stood up for you, but when you thanked him, he just rolled his eyes at you and told you not to mention it again.

“You’re on, man,” Ray said.

“I can’t believe you two,” you scoffed.

Frank flagged down the bartender. You watched in amusement as Frank tried a dumb pickup line, to which the bartender just shrugged him off and refilled his water glass, walking away to serve someone else.

Ray barked out a laugh before holding out his hand. “Pay up, dude.”

Frank glowered at him, digging for his wallet and muttering about how he could’ve had her.

You turned to Frank. “I think you might be the worst person I’ve ever met.”

He gave you a smile with way too much teeth. “What can I say? I’m a charmer.”

Several hours had gone by. You’d had way too much to drink and were definitely starting to feel it. There was a warm, tingly feeling throughout your body and the sharp edges of the world seemed to soften a bit. You looked around, noticing that Gerard, Mikey, Ray, and your drummer were no longer sitting with you. The only one left was Frank.

“Wh-where’d everybody go?” You asked, your words tangling together on the tip of your tongue.

He rolled his eyes. “They left…like ages ago. You didn’t notice?”

“No,” you said.

He snorted. “Not very observant, are you?”

You shoved him, or at least you tried to without losing your balance on the barstool. “Shuddup, Iero.”

“And since they ditched us, I’m the one stuck taking you home,” he grumbled.

“It’s your lucky day!” You said.

“Yeah, yeah. We should probably get outta here so we can get a taxi to the motel,” he said.

“But whyyy? There are drinks here!”

“And you don’t need anymore alcohol in you. Now c’mon,” he said.

He hopped down from his barstool and waited for you to do the same.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked.

“I can’t get down, I might fall!” You said.

He groaned. “Fine.” He took your hands and you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered. He draped your limp arms around his neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you out of your seat before setting you on your feet.

“C’mon, time to go,” he whispered, leading you out of the bar, the two of you still wrapped around each other.

The cab ride back to the motel was a blur. The whole way there, Frank didn’t speak to you at all. You were partly thankful, since that meant he wasn’t saying anything rude or mean to you, but also in your drunken state, you wondered if you should talk to him. This moment felt significant somehow, and charged with a tension that you felt you could cut with a knife, had you been sober enough to be trusted to wield one.

Once the cab arrived at the motel, Frank wordlessly led you to the front desk, holding you up as he claimed the key and went to the room. Based on Frank’s low grumblings, you surmised that the others had claimed all the other rooms, leaving you and Frank to share. Frank clearly wasn’t happy, but you naively hoped this would give you a chance to talk.

He unlocked the door and led you inside. His gaze swept around the room, before he swore softly. You looked up to see what he was talking about and immediately noticed there was only one bed, a double bed that took up most of the room.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” Frank said, not sounding too happy at the prospect.

He helped you into bed, taking the extra blanket and a few pillows before laying down on the floor.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered.

“‘Night, Frank,” you whispered back.

You rolled over and tried to sleep, but the bed felt too big and you were feeling guilty that Frank had to sleep on the hard floor.

“Frank?” You hissed.

“What?” He asked, sounding just as awake as you felt.

“Can you--can you come sleep in the bed with me?” You asked.

“Why?”

You sighed. “Because the bed is too big for just me and I feel bad that you’re on the floor.”

“I volunteered to be on the floor,” he said.

“Yes, but wouldn’t you rather sleep in a bed?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he said.

“The bed’s big enough for both of us, stop being such a baby,” you said.

“I’m not the one who can’t sleep in a bed all by herself,” he said.

“Just get up here!” You snapped.

“Fine, fine. Geez, woman,” he grumbled.

In the blackness, you heard him scramble to his feet and shuffle towards the bed. You felt the mattress sink as he joined you, curling up on the edge of the bed.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you said.

“Good,” he said. “You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, right?”

“Right,” you said.

It was quiet then as you both tried to fall asleep, but you still found yourself unable to shut your eyes and rest.

“Frank?” You asked.

“What?” He hissed.

“Why do we hate each other?” You asked. That question had been on your mind for most of the night.

“I don’t know anymore,” he murmured, sounding far away.

“Maybe…we could stop hating each other,” you said.

“Why?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly around the word.

“Because I don’t really hate you and I actually think you’re cute,” you said, thankful he couldn’t see your face in the dark, since your cheeks were burning with the heat of your confession.

“You’re drunk, you won’t even remember this in the morning,” he whispered, sounding surprisingly hurt by the idea.

“Yes, I will,” you said, hating him all over again for suggesting that.

“Just go to sleep,” he whispered. “Please.”

“Fine, I will,” you huffed, contemplating sleeping on the floor yourself.

The next morning, you awoke with your head on someone’s chest. You briefly wondered just what the hell you’d gotten up to last night, when you remembered everything. The bar, the drinks, Frank taking you back to the room, Frank…

Your heart started to race, but then you felt the fabric of his shirt beneath your cheek, ruling out anything too bad. You chanced a glance at his face, but he was already watching you, looking…oddly emotional?

You glared at him. “What the hell are you looking at, Iero?”

His eyes widened, then he returned your glare. “Not much, clearly.”

“What, regretting bringing me back to bed?”

“I’m not the one who didn’t stay on their side,” he snapped.

“And get your hands off me!” You snapped back, having just noticed his arms were wrapped around you.

He looked down, as if just now realizing his arms were attached to his body and obliged. You felt a sudden chill where there had once been warmth and regretted snapping at him, but you wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he’d noticed on his own and had said something.

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, averting his gaze from you, but not before you saw a flash of hurt in his hazel eyes. What the hell?

You and Frank got ready, grabbed your stuff, and went to meet the others on the bus to drive to the venue. Then you headed backstage to get ready for the show. All day, you’d been making your usually dumb comments towards Frank, trying to get him to snap back at you like he usually did, but you were just met with cold silence. When he did look at you, he had the same look of hurt in his eyes, as much as he seemed to be trying to hide it.

“What’s wrong with Iero?” You asked Ray, who was sitting on the couch near you.

“Why are you asking me? He’s been like this all day and before that, he was with you,” he said.

You snorted in indignation. “What, you think I did something to him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Ray said.

“But you were thinking it,” you said.

Ray sighed. “Y/N, have you ever thought that you might be hurting each other and that you should try getting along?”

“He’s the one who--”

“Right, stupid question,” Ray said.

“Ray…”

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

You sighed. “Fine.”

On stage tonight, you felt Frank’s eyes on you almost the entire time. And during “I’m Not Okay,” instead of “trust me,” Frank said, “Lie to me, Y/N.” When you looked over at him, his hazel eyes pierced your own, taking you off-guard.

When the show was over, you all went backstage. You felt a gentle hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N?” Frank asked.

You turned and he let go of your wrist.

“Yeah?”

“Can I…can we talk? On the bus?” He asked, tugging at his lip ring with his teeth, a nervous habit of his you couldn’t help but notice.

“Sure,” you said.

You felt everyone watching the two of you walk out together, but you paid them no mind. Frank held the door for you as you left the venue and again when you climbed onto the bus. You sat down together in the front lounge of the bus.

Frank looked down at his tattooed fingers as if seeing them for the first time. “Look, last night, you said some things and I guess I’m just wondering whether you really meant them.”

“I was drunk, okay?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, what did I say?” Your stomach churned.

“You asked me why we hated each other and then you said maybe we could stop hating each other because you thought I was cute,” he said.

“Oh god,” you whispered.

“So what, were you telling the truth or was it just more bullshit, huh?” He asked, his eyes blazing.

“Why do you care so much? You hate me,” you said, even though you questioned the truth of that.

“Y/N…” Frank’s voice sounded tired, but you kept talking.

“You hate me and we don’t get along and we probably never will and--”

“Y/N, stop. I--”

“--so why is it so important to you what I think?”

“Because I really like you, okay?” Frank burst out. “And I think you’re cute too. More than that, I think you’re gorgeous and last night, you--you curled up against me and I lay there dreading when morning came because I knew things would be like this. I tried to stay on my side of the bed, give you your space, but you rolled over and grabbed onto me and I never wanted you to let go. That’s why I was looking at you this morning, because I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life.”

“Oh yeah? Well…well…fuck!” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Fuck, Frank. Why did you have to say that? I don’t wanna have feelings for you!”

“But you do, right?” He asked, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“Yeah, duh,” you said.

“So maybe we can both just…drop our weapons and be…be okay with each other,” he said.

“You really think that could work?” You asked.

“We’ll never know unless we try. I wanna try, Y/N. Please,” he said. He reached up and brushed his fingers against your face. “Would you let me kiss you? Please?” He asked, looking more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

“Yes,” you whispered and with that, Frank pressed his lips to yours, softly at first, but then harder, more passionately.

Finally, you broke off for air. “Wanna go tell the others the good news?” Frank asked.

“Later. Right now, I want you to kiss me again,” you said.

“That can be arranged,” he said, grinning at you and crashing his lips against yours once more.

#Frank Iero #frank iero fanfic #frank iero imagine #frank iero x reader #my chemical romance #MyChem #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fic #my chemical romance x reader #mcr #mcr fic #MCR Fanfic #mcr fanfiction #mcr x reader

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tboyvampire · 1 year

Text

Could you save my soul tonight?

A 2004-era Frerard fanfic

—

“I’ve fucking had it with this shit.”

The tensions had been rising on the bus for weeks now. As the band snaked its way across the states, scraping by as they stopped in the smallest towns any of them had ever seen, the energy on the bus grew corrosive. At first it was the sleep and the food, both of which were scarce to come by most days. The boys each hit their own respective tipping points and had to cope in the ways they could manage - Ray dove head first into jamming with other bands, Mikey would disappear for days on end with whatever new boy picked him up that week, and who knows what the fuck Bob was up to most days. Gerard slipped, tripped, fell down his own dark path, sliding closer to oblivion. Frank grew more resentful of the chaos that was threatening to destroy them all.

The wear of the road marked itself differently on each boy. For the Way brothers, it had two distinct manifestations - those dark circles that grew with each passing day (Mikey disguised them with his frames and those long bangs, while Gerard passed them off as a sartorial choice by emphasizing them with makeup), but anyone who was on that bus would tell you it was really all about their smell. It hung like a thick musk in the air on the bus, only emphasized when you drew closer to either of their bunks. It was so pervasive that it almost became imperceptible after a while, but as soon as your nose caught a whiff of fresh air again, the smell would just deepen by comparison. Frank likened it to toxoplasmosis, the cat shit parasite that zombifies a cat owner and calls them to do the cat’s bidding. As weird as it sounds, the smell had a grip on him, and he couldn’t shake it. It stirred up all kinds of feelings within him, not all of which he had words for. Disgust and anger, sure, but also comfort, familiarity, and a deeper feeling somewhere below his stomach. He couldn’t help but notice he missed it when it was gone.

It was impossible for Frank not to notice Gerard’s self destructive spiral. It was cute at first, sure, seeing your friend discover himself. Something blossomed in the kid - he gained a sense of real identity and confidence, and the magnetism was palpable. He knew he had hit something special in his music, his lyrics, and he started to get cocky. The rockstar trope exists for a reason - that kind of street-heretic manic frenzy is a hotbed for creative expression, when it can be channeled properly. But Gee, poor fuck, was slowly spinning out. Bert wasn’t helping.

Something volatile was happening between Gerard and Bert, who had become sort of funhouse-mirror versions of one another, reflecting back the pain and genius in each other in blown-out proportions. Gerard clearly loved Bert’s confidence, his puckish charm, the chaos vortex he created around himself. Bert saw Gerard’s genius clear as day, and from the first moment he met him, he knew that genius would yank him far away from the maze of shitty tour vans and hot asphalt they lost themselves in most nights. But for now, this was their home, their domain. Frank could hear the two of them some nights, when they were too drunk to remember to keep it down. They always denied it in the morning.

The tour had been dragging on for weeks by the time the tension reached a boiling point. There was something in the air that day - Gee had given a fucking abysmal performance and Frank’s stage presence wasn’t enough to overshadow it this time. It was mortifying, really. Gerard could barely sing, he was sweating booze through his skin in the beating sun; his fucking pants fell down. The boys had gotten off that stage and all gone their separate ways, unsure of how to face up to the embarrassment of that experience.

Frank floated through the rest of his day, furious. He knew something had to shift, something major. Gerard had to finally fucking understand he couldn’t keep going on like this. A traditional intervention was completely out of the question. How could he hit Gee where it hurt, while simultaneously showing him how much he cared? Thoughts swarmed his head as he killed time, waiting for it to get dark.

Frank couldn’t say exactly what pushed him over the edge- true death by a thousand cuts. He sat pensive in the bus as the night grew darker, waiting for Gee to show himself. Time ticked by and the pain in Frank’s chest only grew. Then, he heard Gee talking to himself like a goddamn madman outside the tour bus, slamming into the bus as he walked by, gently shaking it. That finally sent Frank over the edge.

“Nah, fuck this, I’m done.” Frank’s vision went red with anger. He was tired of being second best, tired of this man acting like he’s hot shit when he was quickly destroying all they had worked so hard to get.

Something absolutely snapped within Frank, and his impulse to destroy kicks in. His head filled with a stingy hot anger, effervescent at his temples, radiating out down his neck and through his arms. This ends tonight. He grabbed the duct tape that they keep around to repair the tour van, and headed outside into the hot August night.

—

Frank comes around the tour bus to find Gerard, swaying and smoking a cigarette, holding what must be his sixth beer of the evening. “Bitch, you have gotten on my last nerve,” he growls under his breath. Gee looks up, caught off guard by Frank’s sudden appearance. Frank locks his eyes on Gerard, smirks, and steps towards him.

“You have no idea how fucking exhausting you can be sometimes, do you?”

Gerard looks at Frank first with amusement, and then a jolt of fear rushes through his body. Fuck, Frank is MAD. What the fuck did I do?

Frank steps toe-to-toe with Gerard and inhales deeply in a vain attempt to collect himself. Even in the open air, Gerard’s thick smell fills Frank’s nose, lungs, and permeates him deeply. With a quick shove, Frank slams Gerard up against the side of the bus, his head knocking against the metal. Frank reaches his hand for Gee’s thigh, tracing his way up his jeans, over the belt, gently catching on the bottom of his t-shirt and tracing on his stomach before moving up, across his chest, up his neck, and finally, along his jawline. Frank firmly grasps Gerard’s face in his hand, and with that, steps forward and moves their bodies even closer together. The anger and tension mix together in the hot summer air and give Frank a clear message - I’m going to make this fucker listen.. I’m going to make him pay. The power and focus move through Frank’s body, down his chest, filling him with an intoxicating clarity of purpose. Suddenly he begins to feel his cock growing hard, almost filling itself with his rage, and everything seems to click into place. Ah shit, this is what this is about, isn’t it?

Gerard keeps his eyes pinned on Frank’s.. not that he has much of a choice, as their faces are mere inches away from one another’s, and Frank has his head held firmly in place. Gerard suddenly feels a cool rush flow through his body, from his chest down into the deepest reaches of his soul. He’s trembling. It’s an abysmal loss of power, instantly. His eyes widen and devolve into a pathetic pout, begging Frank..what for, he has no idea. Then, Frank pulls his face forward, moving Gee’s ear to touch Frank’s lips.

“Those pretty little puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna get you far tonight. You are a problem I am going to finally take care of. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.. to understand the fucking mind games you have been playing with me. Act innocent all you want, but I am fucking done. This ends now. Do you understand?”

Gerard has no words, only panicked blinking, his eyelashes batting against his cheeks in a flurry. He doesn’t understand, at all. How could he possibly understand?

Right hand still gripped on Gee’s jaw, Frank pushes Gerard back into the warm metal of the tour bus again, harder this time. With his left hand, Frank grabs Gerard between the legs and squeezes, clamping down on his swollen balls and half-hard cock. “Does that make this any clearer?”

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard musters through his gripped-shut jaw as a surge of pain moves through his body. As the words escape his mouth, he begins to sink even further.

“You see, Gerard.. you and your behavior lately have been absolutely disgusting, but I don’t think you have actually felt any of it. You’ve deflected it towards us without feeling any of it for yourself. That changes now. I am going to make you feel your full dose of shame so we can move on from this once and for all.” Frank lets go of Gerard’s face, digs his knee between Gerard’s legs, and brandishes the duct tape that has been held around Frank’s left wrist. Frank finds the edge of the tape, picks up the corner and loudly rips off a strip of duct tape. “Put your hands above your head, faggot,” spitting his anger out as that last word escaped his lips. Gerard does as he is told, and is suddenly rock hard under his jeans.

Frank slaps a piece of the silver duct tape to Gerard’s wrists and wraps it around once, twice, three times. He seals the wrist tape off, and holds Gerard’s immobilized wrists to the side of the tour bus. Gee’s breath is quick and shallow, staring at Frank’s face as he focuses intently on restraining him.

“Dude, what the fuck,” Gerard whimpers. He is so shocked that he can barely process the information in front of him and react. “What the hell is this about, man?” He feels like he could cry, if the shock wasn’t paralyzing him.

“Seriously Gee, you have no idea what this could be about? You are a fucking train wreck. You’re wasted all of the time. Dude, your fucking pants fell down on stage the today. You forgot the words to Vampires for fuck’s sake. VAMPIRES!! And worst of all, you fucking reek.”

Gerard averts his eyes, mind racing. He had always been self conscious of his smell, and when he had given up on keeping his life together on tour, his rigorous personal hygiene routine was the first to go. Screaming on a stage for an hour, not sleeping, getting up and doing it again day after day did not leave much room for showers. But even before then, Gerard had a particular acrid bite to his presence. The few girls he had been with had said they liked it in a weird way, but he never quite believed it. It drove Bert wild though, and so Gee didn’t have much motivation for keeping it under control, even though he knew it meant subjecting everyone on the bus to his filth.

“Frankie, dude, I’m okay. I promise. And you know how bad camp showers freak me out. I can’t take my shirt off in front of these guys.”

“And why would that be?”

Gerard falls deep into thought again. He couldn’t find the words to express the fact that taking his shirt off meant reckoning with his physical form and exposing himself to the prying eyes of others. Sure, he sang in front of a crowd every night, but that was a performance. This was different.. this was something intimately him, that he couldn’t bear to show others. Not now.

“Uh, I… don’t want to be seen?” Gerard was searching for the right phrase to get Frank to chill the fuck out and untie him, let him hide in his own private death spiral once again.

“Bullshit, motherfucker. If you didn’t want to be seen, you wouldn’t have holes in your fucking shirt.” Frank grabbed Gerard’s chest, dug a thumb into a small hole in the center of the Motörhead shirt he had been wearing every day for years, and pulled. A loud rip signaled that the shirt had been shredded in half, hanging on by the collar at the top.

“Dude, c’mon, you know I only have like, three shirts.” Gee’s eyes welled up with tears, deeply unsettled and honestly scared. Something was off with Frank tonight, and this was escalating, quickly.

Frank laughs, staring at Gee’s terrified expression. “You’re finally realizing what kind of trouble you’re in, aren’t you?” Frank’s fingerless-glove clad hands reach up to pinch Gerard’s puffy exposed nipples, hard. Gee lets out a sharp yelp, immediately quieting himself down once he catches himself, and quickly moving his duct-taped arms down to cover his chest in a vain attempt to fend off Frank. He looks down to see his body, laid bare through the ripped shirt, his arms stuck to one another with no further range of motion. Frank grips Gerard’s wrists and pins them above his head again.

“You’re not gonna get very far fending me off like that, bitch. I know you want this, I can feel how hard your fucking cock is for me right now. Turned on being exposed like this, feeling my hands on you, squeezing these perky little tits.” Frank’s hand comes down swiftly on Gerard’s chest, smacking his nipple with a sharp clap. “You like being treated like the filthy little faggot you are, don’t you?”

Gee was fucking done for. With those words, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his mouth involuntarily opening and tongue slightly sticking out past his teeth. Hearing Frank call him a faggot unlocked something that had been living deep within him, begging to get out. Gerard had always fantasized about letting go of control…that was really what the whole death obsession was about, wasn’t it? Surrendering to the unknown, free-falling towards whatever laid in wait, all that shit. In this moment, he realized it wasn’t about wanting to die, but wanting to submit, be controlled, by something so much more powerful than him. And here he was, getting pinned against the tour bus by his sweet Frankie, the boy he had picked out of the scene to come create a new life with him. Gerard had always known Frank was hot, with his brand of fiery volatility that enraptured everyone who came in contact with him, but had always pushed those feelings down to be able to behave like a normal dude, to be able to create the kind of art he wanted to create with him. The desire was likely there all along, the magnetism… to Frank’s energy, the brightness in those big eyes, the way his hands moved so skillfully across the neck of his guitar. Come to think of it, he had had some dreams…

Frank licked Gerard’s ear, sending shock waves through his system. Letting go of his grip on Gerard’s wrists, he grabbed his waist and began pawing at him hungrily. Frank’s mouth kissed his way down Gee’s neck, his clavicle, and then off to the right to Gee’s armpit. Frank breathed deeply, filling his body and mind with this pungent presence. It tugged at something deep within him, made him feel like he was bonded to this person for life, that he would do anything to serve this man that he had tied up to the outside of the bus. Really, this was a service, to try to save Gerard by any means necessary. Why shouldn’t he have a bit of fun with it while he was at it?

Frank opened his mouth and traced a soft tongue from the bottom of Gerard’s pit, around the edges, soaking up the sweet sweat that had been building for the better part of the week. He then stuck out his tongue and licked bottom-to-top once, twice, three times, feeling his soft hairs and sticky sweet skin. He wanted to drink this man up, every last drop there was. He was going to make Gerard his tonight… mark him in some indelible way that will fuel each of them for the rest of their days.

Gerard squirmed, bucked his hips under Frank as he continued to kiss his armpit. He felt so extremely exposed, but also so seen, so held by the way Frank was approaching his flesh. Gerard knew that he was about to give himself over to this man, in ways he could not yet imagine. Gerard’s cock ached under his pants, harder than it had ever been before.

Frank slowly stopped and moved his face to meet Gerard’s again, their noses touching. He ran one hand through Gee’s hair, and the other one reached down to begin unbuckling his belt, getting ready for what was yet to come. Making fierce eye contact and brandishing a condescending smirk, Frank grew ready to really lay into him. “Bitch, you smell awful.” Gerard was confronted with his smell head-on, face to face. It was so pungent on Frank’s nose and mouth that Gerard almost passed out, first from the smell, then from the shame that washed over him like a wave, emptying him of any meaning or feeling that came before.

“Open your mouth, slut.” Gerard obliged immediately, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Frank spat in Gerard’s mouth and Gerard’s eyes rolled back, his hips swirling again. “Mmm, fuck yeah. It’s time for you to show me what else that mouth can do, bitch. Get on your knees.”

Gerard dropped instantly, his knees knocking on the asphalt, his head rested against the bus. Frank’s cock was right in front of his face, bulging out of his pants. Frank quickly unbuckled his belt, flipping open the button and slowly undoing the fly of his tight black jeans. To Gerard’s surprise, Frank was not wearing any underwear, his cock begging to be released as the fly was lowered. His cock sprung out, erect and already dripping pre-cum. Gerard was hungry and immediately launched himself onto Frank’s cock, first licking up the drop on the head of his cock, and then quickly lowering himself down, sucking his way back up and plunging his way down again. Bert had been teaching him a thing or two, and he was excited to get to show Frankie what he had learned.

Frank let out an audible moan as Gerard latched himself onto his cock. Honestly, Frank was caught off guard; he thought he was going to have to force his way into that talented little throat. After realizing his good fortune, he began to gently rock himself back and forth, thrusting himself down deeper each time Gerard came back down. His movements began to quicken as he became aware of the situation around them; holy shit, they were outside at Warped Tour... Gerard was tied up and sucking his cock… anyone could walk over at any point. Fuck, that turned him on. What if another person wanted to join in? What if Bert went looking for his little plaything? Maybe a sneaky fan would come up and take a photo, immortalizing this fucked up moment forever? The possibility sent shivers down his spine.

Gerard was lost in a hazy bliss as he continued to take Frank deeper and deeper in his throat. His mind went fuzzy, drifting into a trance-like state as he centered on his singular purpose- Frank’s rock hard cock in his mouth. The rhythmic pulse was steady and strong, punctuated by some divine moments when Frank would pause his thrusting and sink himself even deeper down Gerard’s throat. Gerard gazed up, his focus blurry, as everything around him slowly drifted away. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Frank’s face, twisted in a mix of pleasure and deep, deep anger. Now, Gerard’s only purpose in this life was to keep this man satisfied. His duct-taped arms hung down by his chest, frustratingly too high to rub against his cock, but that didn’t stop him from futilely rocking his hips in a desperate attempt to give himself some release.

Frank was in a state of frantic ecstasy, gripping fistfuls of Gerard’s long dark hair from the nape of his neck as he used his throat to its full capacity. He closed his eyes tight out of habit, and as soon as he looked down and caught Gerard’s desperate gaze, a wave of relief overtook him. The absolute devotion that shone back up at him was more than he could have ever asked for. He knew instinctively that Gee understood, that he was going to do anything he could to make Frank proud from that point forward. The relief washed over him, and the sensation deep within his cock crested. He bit his lip, gaze still fixed on Gerard’s beautiful eyes, let out a muffled moan, and released his cum into Gerard’s mouth.

The sensation seemed to collapse time; both boys spun slowly in the balance of everything that had come before, and everything that was going to follow. The importance of this moment, this connection, came crashing down on both of them, transcending the barriers of their skin, their physical connection. Their souls were wedded. They each knew instinctively that this intensity was only going to deepen from here.

Gerard knelt before Frank with a mouth full of cum, savoring the taste, the warm stickiness, the volume. Frank didn’t waste a moment before yanking Gerard up by his jaw, and then swiftly smacking him clear across the face. Gerard gagged and spat the mouthful of cum out, letting it slowly drip down his face, desperately turned on and still rendered absolutely helpless. Frank let out a sharp laugh, wiped the cum off Gerard’s face, and then fed it back to him by shoving his fingers deep down his throat. Gerard felt like he was about to cum himself, completely entranced by the power that Frank wielded over him.

Frank took a moment to catch his breath before launching into the next act; harnessing the sexual power he wielded over Gerard in this moment to cement his point deep within him. Frank brandished a smirk and began laughing to himself, silently, as Gerard struggled to compose himself. “You look so pathetic, covered in my cum, shirt ripped in half, arms taped together, hair a goddamn mess. You can’t even pretend to keep your composure. You can’t even hold my eye contact for fuck’s sake. But oh, Gee, you did such a great job. I feel like you’re finally starting to understand what I need from you. I need your devotion, your servitude, from this point forward. Do you understand me?”

Gerard was squirming, eyes rolling back and then trying to focus again on the man in front of him, cock so tense it was about to implode. He nodded his head enthusiastically and attempted to muster a yes, but he couldn’t make his mouth cooperate. He just drooled on himself again, releasing a mix of spit and cum down his face.

Frank laughed, audibly this time. “Fuck, we need to take care of you, don’t we, baby?” Gerard didn’t even attempt a response this time; he was completely gone. Frank reached down to feel Gerard’s cock through his pants and was shocked at how violently he quivered under his touch. Frank could not wait to get his hand around his cock and make him beg for his release, to fully surrender into his desire. Frank unbuckled Gerard’s belt, undid the zipper and pulled down his pants, exposing his aching cock.

Frank took Gerard’s cock in his hand and smacked his balls with his other, reveling as Gerard convulsed in pain and pleasure. He rubbed the palm of his hand on the tip, covering it in pre-cum, and used that to stroke him firmly up and down. Gerard’s knees began shaking; he nearly collapsed from sheer overwhelm. Frank wanted to hold his pathetic little slut in this state for as long as humanly possible, but knew deep down that Gerard might literally pass out if he kept this up much longer.

Frank pressed his body against Gerard’s and kept a steady rhythm with one hand as he continued to hold Gerard’s taped arms firmly above his head. He was ready to give Gerard what he needed. “Okay, listen up…I’ll only let you cum if you promise to behave, to leave all that bullshit behind. You’re gonna make me proud, aren’t you, Gee? You promise to be a good little slut for me?” Gerard began nodding furiously, attempting to squeak out a yes but only mustering a series of moans that grew louder and louder. He fell into absolute abandon; it didn’t matter who heard; it didn’t matter what happened from this point forward… Everything was exactly as it needed to be, right now.

“Then cum for me, faggot.” Gerard let out a high-pitched moan and released immediately as the words escaped Frank’s mouth. The cum shot straight up in short and intense bursts, landing across his exposed chest and ripped Motörhead shirt. He bucked wildly, thrusting himself into Frank’s tight grip again and again as every ounce of sexual power drained itself from his body. Gerard’s sexual release lent itself to an emotional release, too. The boy started crying; softly at first, and then sobbing deeply to the rhythm of his already convulsing body.

Frank couldn’t believe what he was seeing; something deep cracked within Gerard. He held him in close, and let out a single tear. “Oh Gee, baby… you did a great job. Come on, let’s get you fixed up.” Frank knelt down, bit the duct tape, and ripped it off swiftly. He embraced Gerard as he stood there, bawling his eyes out, covered in both of their cum. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You know I love you, right?”

Gerard looked up at Frank, calmed his heaving body with a few deep breaths, and softly pronounced, “I love you too, Frankie.”

—

On stage the next day, the energy felt different. Not only was Gerard sober, but there was a newfound electricity in their performance that was palpable for the band and crowd alike. Halfway through the set, something overtook Gerard. In between verses, he moved close to Frank, grabbed his face, his hair, and kissed him for everyone to see. Frank looked at him, shocked, but also so deeply moved by this public display of affection. There was no room for shame anymore.

#mcr fanfiction #mcr fanfic #frerard #mcromance #mx way #mcr frank #mcr gee #gee way #gerard gender archives #gerard way smut #mcr smut #frank iero #gerard way fanart #gerard way #mcr #my chemical romance smut #my chem #my chemical romance

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wednesdaythesecond · 5 months

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Hey. I wrote something. Perhaps read it.

Basically Gerard sneaks into Mikey's hotel room and touches him while he sleeps.

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years

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A Few Very Compelling Arguments - Frank Iero x Reader

Summary: You are new in the band and Frank can’t seem to stand you. After getting hurt by him on stage you decide to quit the band, something Frank is not at all happy about. Reader: fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of mental illness, hints at suicide(?), blood, jealousy, Frank is an asshole in the first half Word Count: 7 702 (don’t ask me what happened there, I don’t know either) A/N: I’ve wanted to write some enemies to lovers with Frank since I read this story by @ghoulgirlwrites a few weeks back. I hope it’s not too similar. Anyways this story sent me on a total enemies to lovers thing, and now you guys have to live with that. Also I take no criticism for writing Frank this vulnerably. We all know he’s sensible, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be afraid to be vulnerable in the presence of the people he loves and trusts.

You weren‘t sure when things had started to change, but you knew you didn’t like it. You had not been in My Chemical Romance for long, a little less than a year. You were a friend of Ray’s, all the way back from his time in college, even though you were several years younger than him. After he had asked you to join the band on tour as their drummer one thing had led to another, and suddenly you had become the fifth member of the band. Then things had been fine, as fine as things could be when you were stuck in a van a majority of the day with a bunch of guys who had yet to discover the concept of taking showers. It was only at the start of this tour, right after the release of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge that Frank had started to change. He had always been very sweet to you before then, polite, friendly. Sure he was somewhat energetic on stage, but off stage he had been nothing but a sweetheart, something that definitely had gotten more to you than it should have.

It started off slow, the poking, the pranks, the nicknames. You knew he loved sneaking bites of other people’s food, or just put on whatever shirt he found on top of the clean laundry basket, no matter who it belonged to. You would not have minded this at all, if it had not always been your plate he stole fries from, or your favourite band shirt he picked to wear on stage.

That had been the beginning of it all. He had stopped after you had gotten pissed at him for staining your only white shirt with coffee one morning, and almost you had allowed yourself to believed things would calm down again. Sure you were angry that he had ruined your shirt, which he had had no reason for wearing other than being too lazy to search for his own. And that he had bought you a new package of your favourite cookies after having finished the last one without telling you had almost soothed the waves of your grudge against his impulsiveness.

But then he began throwing shit at your drums. At first just empty water bottles, which were really harmless. You even laughed at that, feeling like he was trying to include you more on stage. The roll of gaffer tape he had thrown was not quite as funny, nor was the full water bottle, Mikey’s shoe, and his mic stand; especially because the last one had ruined one of your drums, leaving you to improvise for the rest of the show.

You had been righteously furious after that.

That had been the evening you had realised something between Frank and you had truly changed. When you had talked to him about stealing your food and clothes, he had nodded and apologized for overstepping. That night, he had shrugged you off, saying he’d pay for it and there was no reason to react as upset as you did. This comment got him not only protest from you, but also from Ray, who had had the misfortune of overhearing that conversation.

Since then things had completely gotten out of control.

Frank snapped at you every opportunity he had, watched you like a hawk as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake he could get you for. He did not necessarily insult you. He just made it abundantly clear that he considered you unfit for the job of MCR’s drummer.

You knew they had not meant for you to overhead that snippet of conversation, but one time you had even heard Frank complain to Gerard about you, how you distracted everyone, how you would make it impossible to enjoy this tour for everyone.

You had quickly plucked in your headphones in order to not overhear more than that, but these few words had been enough to drive you towards the brink of a crisis. Wasn’t it bad enough that you had to share the very limited tour bus space with someone who actively seemed to hate you? He also tried to involve others in this strange feud he had started and was scheming against you!

After that incident you did not try to hide your annoyance at him anymore. If he already had to tell Gerard, Gerard might as well see for himself. Maybe that would speed up the inevitable process of them kicking you out of the band. Nobody had brought it up to your face yet, but you were sure Frank had suggested it to the others already. You didn’t want to leave the band, but with the way Frank was treating you, it was not hard to guess that this was his goal, to get you kicked out of the band.

Whatever you had done to make him hate you this much, it was something nobody was willing to talk to you about. Had you said or done something wrong? Was it your behaviour towards your band members? You were sure you had treated them just like any other friends, and of course you were closest to Ray, since you knew him the longest. But even though you were not aware of anything that could have upset Frank this much, especially since the others seemed to have no problem with you whatsoever, you would still have been willing to make up for it. If you only knew what the problem was!

You had tried talking to Frank, who had always brushed you off with a mean comment about you not caring anyway. And if you tried talking to the others, they always said it was not their place to tell you, and you needed to talk to Frank. At your response that you had tried, but he wouldn't tell you anything, they had just shrugged, and told you they couldn’t help you.

And this was how tour had started. For two months Frank and you had done nothing but glaring at each other. He shot hurtful comments your way, and whenever you were too tired or annoyed to hold back, you returned them. The tension this created was undeniable, but to your surprise the others just laughed it off, even having fun watching Frank and you bicker.

The worst thing of all though was probably how much ever single comment from Frank hurt. Not because of the comment itself, but because of him. You had not known him for very long, but you spent enough time together to have gotten to know him quite well. You saw the way he treated his friends, caring, loving, mischievous of course, yes, but never leaving a sliver of doubt that all his actions towards them were laced with nothing but deep, honest love for them.

A part of you hated yourself for loving watching him play music, no matter whether he was writing it, rehearsing or playing shows. At shows he was as energetic as you had never seen anyone in their life before, writhing around on stage, singing, screaming, and still flawlessly playing his guitar. He threw stuff at you occasionally, but this tour it did not seem quite as bad as the previous one.

During rehearsals he was absolutely focused, only rarely loosing himself in the music as much as he did on stage. But your favourite times to watch him were when he was writing music. Most often it was during long bus rides, when Gerard and Mikey would read comics, and you one of the novels off your ‘to be read’-pile. Ray and Frank would grab their guitars, and sit down, playing the same melodies in variations for hours upon hours until they had found something they both were content with. Then you would take glances over the rim of your book, just watching Frank, as he was sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers skipping over the fret board, his eyes closed. He was so focused then, and still half lost in the melody, in the music he and Ray were creating. Those moments were so soft, so intimate. It felt forbidden to watch him then, and still you could not tear your eyes away. You just hoped he would never find out about it.

He, on the other hand, was unashamed whenever he stared at you. It was during meals, when you sat on opposite ends of the table, as many of your friends between you as possible to stop you from getting into another heated argument. He would watch you closely then, his eyes following your every movement, never caring if you were staring back at him challengingly.

It was worse on stage. Moments in which he should have payed attention to Ray or Gerard, he glanced at you, even when there was no need to. Of course there were the few parts of the show where the two of you needed to work together, coordinate with each other, and those were never a problem, because as much as you hated him, you were still professional enough to not let it show. But the moments where he made sure you were looking at him right before doing something stupid-

It drove you up the walls, the constant feeling of his eyes on you, until you would eventually give in and meet his across the stage.

This night was no different. Or well, maybe it was. It was more of Frank’s snarky, hurtful comments before the show, more than usual. More of relentlessly watching you during it.

You knew Frank was not in the best space of mind recently. Just like the Way brothers he struggled with mental health, and just because you could not stand seeing his pretty face around you, and felt like getting sick the moment you thought about him because of your contrasting feelings for him, you still were observant. Maybe it was about keeping the team together, you wondered, as you felt sweat running down your face, your arms, your back. In order to keep doing the shows everyone needed to be in top shape, and whenever someone wasn’t, the others did their best to take care of them.

It was difficult with Frank though. He would insist to be left alone, and wouldn't come out of his bunk for anything other than a small breakfast in the morning, a toilet break or playing shows. It had been like this for the past three days, and slowly but surely you began worrying about him.

He looked pale underneath his make-up, dark circles under his eyes which he covered up with red eyeshadow. If he hadn’t screamed at you that one time you had tried to ask if there was something you could do for him, you might have tried to get him to open up a little. You hated to see him suffer just as much as you hated him. But then again, maybe you didn’t hate him quite as much as you always made yourself believe.

The thought was unsettling, and at the realisation you almost would have lost the rhythm you were still playing. You definitely had crushed on Frank before things had gotten weird. And you knew you cared about him, even if you did not want to admit it to yourself. So was the idea that you did not hate him at all so far off?

Just in that moment you felt his eyes on you. Not to coordinate the music, but staring at you. For a moment you tried to resist looking back at him, but it was impossible.

He was close to your drums, black crosses over his eyes, the red eyeshadow masking how sunken in his face was. As if he hadn’t eaten and slept for days. You had a feeling he really hadn’t.

For a moment he was holding your gaze, and then, with three big steps, he strode over to Gerard, who was prancing around on stage as always. It happened so fast you were not even sure what you had seen, when Frank let go of his guitar, and grabbed Gerard’s face while he was still in the middle of singing, only to kiss his passionately.

You could tell Gerard was surprised, suddenly having been cut off by a kiss from one of his guitarists, but he reacted smoothly, wrapping his arm around Frank’s neck and kissing back for a short moment, before he pushed Frank off, and continuing to sing as if nothing had happened.

Quickly you averted your gaze, feeling like you had witnessed something you were not supposed to. Of course you knew of the rumours that Frank and Gerard were dating. It was nothing more than that, a rumour, as far as you knew, but maybe you did not know everything.

It was clear Frank had wanted you to see that kiss. Was this maybe the reason he hated you so much? Because you and Gerard had become close friends, and he thought you were trying to steal Gerard away from him? Nothing could have been further from the truth. You liked Gerard, but only as a friend. You were far too confused about your feelings for Frank to even think about liking anyone else.

Still, you felt like that kiss had meant to show you who Gerard belonged with. But what did you care? Frank could have Gerard all for himself, if this was what his weird behaviour was about. It just stung a little too much, the idea that Frank had never seen you as anything but a rival for Gerard’s affection. Secretly you had wanted his glances and stares to mean more than pure hatred.

That’s how the rest of the show went by. You tried focusing on your drumming, but were continuously distracted by thoughts about Frank, about how maybe you had liked him the whole time, more than liked even. About how he seemed to hate you because you were close to Gerard. About how unreasonably disappointed you were that he had probably never had any positive feelings for you at all.

You were glad when the encore finally was over. Your head hurt from all the intrusive thoughts, the picture of Frank kissing Gerard had burnt itself deeper into your mind than you wanted to admit, you were bathed in sweat and your whole body was aching. You had been so tense during the set that you would probably have a whole body muscle ache tomorrow.

You slammed your sticks down on the drums for the last few times that night, letting the applause of the audience wash over you as the last chords of the nights echoed back from the venue’s walls. Gerard was waving at crowd, Mikey already on his way off stage, and Ray threw the left over picks into the audience. You were about to do the same with your drum sticks, when your eyes involuntarily found Frank. He was standing not too far off from your drums, but instead of having turned to the crowd, he had turned to you.

Too late did you notice the motion he had executed with his right hand, too late did you see the blinking thing he had thrown through the air right at you. If you had not been mid motion of throwing your sticks into the audience, you could have evaded whatever he had launched at you, but now you were to slow, the metallic object hitting the side of your forehead hard, and you could not suppress the pained gasp.

Surprised you clasped your hand over the part where you had been hit, immediately searching for what had hit you. It was Frank’s capo. It had clattered to the ground after having it you. Annoyed you picked it up, and threw it back at Frank, not noticing the guilty and apologetic expression he was wearing. The capo hit him mid-chest, and surprised he caught it, as you stared daggers at him from behind your drums. Quickly, as quickly as you could, you climbed out from behind them, and headed off stage.

“Oh, (y/n), you’re bleeding,” Mikey noticed as you tried storming past him to get to the backstage room as quickly as possible.

You were done with tonight. Not only because of all these thoughts that had plagued you, or Frank kissing Gerard. No, this was the first time Frank had actually injured you, and that was the last drop. You couldn’t do this anymore. Frank had made it so very clear he didn’t want you in the band, he could finally have what he wanted. Tomorrow morning you would tell Gerard you quit. Tomorrow, not today, so nobody could say you were being too emotional about it. If they asked you really, really nicely, and promised to keep Frank in check, you would finish this tour with them until they had a new drummer to replace you. But you wanted out. Now.

A warm hand around your wrist dragged you out of your thoughts, and Mikey was looking down on you worriedly.

“What happened there,” he asked, gesturing to your head.

“What,” you asked, bringing your hand up to where Frank had hit you with the capo. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in blood. “Oh shit.”

Quickly you looked around, trying to find a mirror, but the closest one was probably down the hallway in the bathrooms.

“Is it bad,” you asked.

Mikey leant in closer, taking a good look.

“Nope, don’t think so. Small cut, about this long.” He held his hand out, showing you with his index finger and thumb how long the cut was. Not more than three milimeters.

It seemed there had been a sharp edge on the capo.

“Shit, (y/n), I’m so sorry-”

The voice belonged to no other than Frank, who had followed you off stage. When you spun around to face him, and he saw the thin line of blood running down the side of your face, his eyes grew wide.

“Oh fuck-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, asshole,” you hissed at him, feeling your blood boil at the sight of him. Had you really thought you liked him? What the hell had been wrong with you? “This was the last time, the last time you threw anything at me, you understand?”

“I didn’t mean to hit you, I was aiming for the- it’s not gonna happen again, I promise,” Frank rushed out. Something about him now was so very different than you remembered him from the past months. He looked genuinely sorry and concerned. But you couldn’t be bothered, not anymore.

“No it’s not, because I won’t be on stage with you anymore for you to throw shit at me!”

You had not meant to say that, but it felt good, to see the shock on Frank’s face, to feel Mikey’s surprise.

“(y/n), you’re not-”

“Yes, I am Mikey! I am quitting! So you-” you pocked your finger into Frank’s direction, “are finally getting what you’ve wanted all this time. Happy now?”

And with that you stormed off.

You did not bother to go to the backstage room, as you had planned, and you did not wait as you heard both Frank and Mikey calling for you to wait. You headed straight out of the backdoor, past the tour bus that was supposed to drop everyone off at the hotel. You could not wait long enough for everyone to make it there, and you could not face Frank.

By now him and Mikey had probably found Gerard and Ray, and told them what had happened; that you had quit.

Shit. That was exactly what you had wanted to avoid, coming across as impulsive and emotional. Frank was supposed to be the impulsive and emotional one, not you. But fuck, you were emotional! There was still blood running down the side of your face, and the headache you had already felt before increased its intensity with every minute. You needed to get away from here, as fast as possible.

Not caring about security or fans being able to see you, you hasted towards the street, already seeing multiple cabs lined up, waiting to find concert goers who were ready to pay for a ride home. Climbing into the first cab in the line, you named the address of the hotel the band had booked rooms at. In the hotel the staff gave you concerned looks, considering how you looked, and even offered to call a doctor, but you insisted you would be fine with a plaster and the keys to one of the booked rooms.

Just as always during hotel nights, it was a double room. A queen sized bed took up the majority of the room, leaving little space for anything but a narrow wardrobe and two bedside tables. You wondered who they would pair up with you tonight. Probably not Gerard, Frank would insist they share a room. Maybe Mikey then, or Ray. You hoped it was Ray. He still knew you the best, and would understand why you could not stay in the band any longer.

Only once you entered the bathroom, you realised you had basically left everything but your wallet at the tour bus, your whole overnight bag with shampoo, towels and pyjama. Luckily the hotel had a shampoo dispenser, towels and some bathrobes prepared for their guests, so you quickly grabbed one, and locked the bathroom door behind you.

The first thing you did was inspect the cut on your forehead. It really was tiny, but the amount of blood had made it look way worse than it was. Now the bleeding had stopped, and the blood dried. Carefully you washed it off, and in the end there was hardly anything to see but a small scratch.

While you were in the shower, rinsing off the sweat of the show, you heard someone entering the hotel room. Over the rushing of water it was impossible to tell who it was, but you definitely heard the door to the room open and then close.

After that you tried to hurry. It wouldn't have been fair to Ray to make him wait too long for his shower. He probably hadn’t taken one at the venue yet. Drying yourself off, you threw on the bathrobe, hoping Ray had either brought your night bag.

“Hey Ray,” you called, as you unlocked the door, your dirty clothes thrown over your arm, and stepped into the room, “you didn’t happen to bring my-”

You froze as you saw that it was not Ray who was sitting on the bed, waiting for you to finish in the bathroom.

It was Frank. He seemed to have washed off the make-up at the venue, because only faint traces of colour stuck to his face now.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he got up. “The others said we should pair up.”

For a long moment you stared at him. You wanted to say something along the lines of never sharing a bed with him, but you knew that he would then insist of sleeping on the floor, and another part of you, the one that had come up with the stupid idea of you maybe liking him, would never have allowed that.

“I packed your bag,” Frank added, nodding to the bag he had placed on the window side of the bed. How had he known you preferred the window side? Or was it just a coincidence?

You nodded, not bothering with an answer.

“Can I- is the bathroom free,” Frank asked carefully. You knew he was watching you, but you refused to look at him, just nodded.

As you were going through your night bag, trying to find a shirt and a pair of shorts, you heard as Frank grabbed his own bag, and headed for the bathroom.

“What you said about leaving the band-”

You guessed he had stopped in the door, but you didn’t turn around.

“I don’t want you to leave. Never wanted that. Can you- I don’t know, can you think about it again? I know we all would-”

“Luckily I don’t care about what you – or the others – want. Not anymore anyway,” you hissed at him, and for the first time that night you felt your throat close up as tears burnt in your eyes.

There was shuffling behind you, and almost you would have expected Frank to say more on the matter but then the bathroom door closed.

Wiping away the tears with the back of your hand, you began looking through your bag again. The idea that Frank had been the one to have packed it, that he had gone through your stuff, made you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time tucked at your heart.

There was a pair of shorts, but the only t-shirt you found was not your own. In fact you were pretty certain it was one of Frank’s. Maybe he had packed it by accident. What other explanation could be there for it? In the end it did not matter though. Shirt was shirt, whether it was his or yours, so you threw it on, and tied the bathrobe closed over it, so Frank wouldn't give you shit for wearing one of his shirts.

In the bathroom the water was still running when you went to bed, cuddled underneath one of the thick blankets. You were grateful there were separate blankets. The idea to share one with Frank was sickening. Speaking of sickening, you still had that headache. While you had been in the shower, it had gotten better, but now it came back worse than before.

After a while you decided you were not going to be the hero who suffered through it, and got up again. Somewhere in your bag you still had some painkillers…

Once more going through your bag, you subconsciously registered that in the bathroom the water had stopped running, and instead suspicious silence spread out from behind the door. No ruffling of towels, no clicking of shampoo bottle lids, not padding of naked feet on tiled floor.

Holding your movement, you listened. Only silence.

With a shrug you grabbed one of the painkillers from the small bottle, and downed it together with the contents of a small water bottle you had kept in your bag. Definitely needed to replace that one tomorrow with a full one, you mentally noted.

That was when you heard it.

Again you halted, not sure if you had imagined the sound, but a second later it was clearer than before. That was definitely someone crying, sobbing even. Quietly, trying to muffle the sound, but the nightly environment was too quiet to hide it. And it came from the bathroom.

Before you even had thought about it, you were banging against the door. You had heard about how badly Gerard had been, you’d be damned if My Chem lost one of their guitarists just because you couldn’t be bothered to try to talk to him. The idea of Frank doing something really stupid to himself wasn’t farfetched, considering the state he had been over the past days.

“Frank? Frank! What’s going on in there? Open the door!”

Again you banged at it, before listening for a response, but all you got was another sob.

“Frank! Are you okay? Let me in!”

Nothing but more sobs.

Your heart was racing in your throat, and your knees weak. You were probably the last person Frank would really talk to, but you didn’t dare leave the room to get help from the others. So instead you pressed down the door handle experimentally, and like a miracle it swung open.

“I don’t care if you’re naked, I’m coming in,” you warned before you pushed the door fully open and stepped inside.

The air of the bathroom was wet and smelled of Frank’s shower gel. The man himself was sitting in front of the sink, back leant against the wall, and luckily dressed in some shorts and an oversized t-shirt. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried between them, hands and arms pulled over his head as if to protect himself from the outside world.

As quickly as you could you ran over to him, and fell to your knees besides him.

“Frank,” you asked worriedly, carefully trying to pry away one of his arms. “Frank, are you hurt?”

Another sob, muffled between his knees, escaped him, before he unwrapped himself, and instead leant his head against your shoulder, burying his face in the fabric of the bathrobe. Instinctively you brought your arms around him, and wrapped him in an awkward hug.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he cried. The air he exhaled was hot, traveling through the layers of fabric until it brushed over your skin. “I know it’s my fault, and it’s all on me, but I don’t know how to fix this. I tried to fix it. But I’ve just made it so much worse. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you blinked, trying to understand what he was talking about.

“Well, you’re not gonna stop me from leaving,” you told him, fully aware that this was probably exactly the wrong thing to say. But lying to him wouldn’t help him either.

You felt a shiver go through him, and he sobbed again, probably smearing snot all over your bathrobe. Well, not really yours, the hotels. So this should be the least of your worries right now.

“I know. I’m not trying to stop you. I know I fucked up. I tried to fix it, tried to make it work so hard, and all I did was fuck it up. I’m so sorry for ruining this for you,” he whimpered between heavy breaths.

“At which point did you try to fix shit, Frank, hm? When you told Gerard I was a distraction, or when you kept calling me weird names even though you knew I didn’t like it? Or when you kept staring at me as if I’d grow a second head any second? When have you ever tried fixing things? Do you think throwing shit at me would make anything any better? Fuck, Frank, you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend you didn’t hate me as much as you do, just to make it less weird for the others! You didn’t try fixing shit!”

Frank nodded, his hands gripping into the bathrobe, still hiding his face. You could feel how warm his body was, from showering, from crying- he was like a furnace. His shower-wet hair stuck to his head.

“And you can’t expect me to take it any longer, you know? All I’ve been getting from you for months were off handed comments that made me feel like shit, and stuff thrown at me on stage! Fuck, you threw a capo at my head, Frank!”

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” he cried.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you did!”

You couldn’t help but wonder what a strange position you found yourselves in. You were shouting at him while he had buried his face in your shoulder, and was crying his eyes out, all while you soothingly rubbed circles into his back.

After a moment of silence, Frank took a shuddering breath.

“I never hated you,” he mumbled, his voice shaky but clear, as if he was putting lots of thought and effort into every word. “I know it seemed that way, but I never did. The opposite really. When you leave that’s the only thing I need you to know: That I’ve always admired you, and that I wish I could’ve done things right, so we could’ve played with this band ‘till the day we die.”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be,” you answered softly, patting his head, making him sob again.

“I just wish I could go back in time and do it right, you know. Do it right from the very first moment on. Just be honest with you, and hope things work out from there.”

“You could still be honest now,” you offered.

Curiosity was eating away at you. Could you finally find out why Frank had treated you the way he had? Why he had never let you get close, why he had not left his bunk in the past days?

“It wouldn’t make a difference anymore,” Frank mumbled, but he seemed calmer now, as if the idea of telling the truth might offer some relief.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you suggested, running your hand through his wet locks. They were soft like silk. When he did not speak for a moment, you added: “What’s going on these past days? You barely got out of bed.”

“Wasn’t feeling good,” Frank mumbled. You could feel him slightly lean into your touch as you ran your nails over his scalp, so you continued the simple action.

“I thought so much. What wasn’t feeling good exactly?”

“Think I knew this was coming to an end,” he admitted. “That I’ve gone too far, and you’d want to leave, and that nothing I could do would stop you, and that everything I had tried to keep you to stay up until that point had only driven you away.”

You hummed, signalling him you had heard, waiting if he wanted to say more, but when he didn’t, you asked another question.

“What was that thing about kissing Gerard earlier at the show? You know… if you like him you don’t gotta worry about me, okay? Gee ‘n I are friends, nothing more.”

“I know.”

“Then why that kiss? It felt like… you wanted to demonstrate that Gerard belonged with you…”

“Didn’t,” Frank answered quietly. “Wanted to make you jealous.”

“Why would you want to make me jealous of you?”

“Not me. Gee.”

You blinked. “Gerard? Why would I be jealous of Gerard?”

Frank tensed underneath your hands, but did not answer. If he wanted you to be jealous of Gerard, could it be that- no. No possible way.

You filed that piece of information away with all the other puzzle pieces that did not fit the picture, and continued asking your questions. It seemed, for the first time since you had met Frank that he was willing to open up to you, at least to a certain degree. You had to make use of that opportunity.

“In the beginning – the first few weeks – we were fine, remember? What changed?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder, making you raise your eyebrows.

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t wanna say,” Frank corrected.

“I thought you wanted to be honest,” you answered, knowing you were poking around in affairs that probably were none of your business, but he had made you suffer for months. You felt like you finally deserved some answers.

“Emotions are complicated,” Frank replied cryptically.

“What emotions?”

For a moment he thought about his answer, then he spoke slowly. “I wanted you to notice me, wanted you to know that I felt comfortable around you, like when I stole your food and your clothes. And when it got obvious you didn’t feel the same… I got frustrated. And jealous. Because you always hang out with Gee ‘nd Ray ‘nd Mikey- and I started doing dumb shit, and – it was easier to drive you away than to admit that I wanted actually the complete opposite of that. Because when I’m honest, I’m vulnerable, and I don’t wanna be hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Frank,” you whispered, not entirely sure what to make of the things he had just told you. He had wanted you to notice him? He sure had managed that. Why would he have been jealous though?

“What hurts me and what doesn’t isn’t in your power to decide,” Frank mumbled, his words muffled against the bathrobe you wore.

“Frank-” trying to pull him slightly away from you to look at his face, you placed your hands on his shoulders, but he only stiffened under your touch, his hands clawing tighter into your clothes. “Frank, I feel like I still don’t really understand what is going on, what has been going on the whole time. You say you’re jealous, and you don’t really hate me- but it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me either. What is it, you feel? Can you try putting it into words?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“’m scared.”

“Of what?”

For a moment he was quiet, before he suddenly sat up with a jolt. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips red-rimmed, and his whole face swollen and flaky from crying. He looked truly pitiful. You wanted to wrap him in your arms again and promise him everything would be alright. It would have been a lie. He had said he didn’t want you to leave the band but your mind was made up. But maybe a white lie, just to make him feel better…

You were still thinking about how much you wanted to help him, when Frank suddenly leant forward, and without warning pressed his lips to yours. They were hot and tasted of his salty tears. Slightly startled you almost lost your balance from the force with which Frank had come at you. Searching for something to hold onto, and desperate not to let go of him, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

At first it was just the surprise of the sudden kiss that made you dizzy, but when Frank opened his mouth, and licked against your lips, you felt like you could faint any moment. Everything around you was spinning; the only solid thing was Frank, as he took over the kiss, and kissed you harder than anyone had ever done before.

You could feel his pulse hammer underneath your hands, could feel his breath fan over your skin, could taste the desperation with which he kissed you. It was both sweet and hungry, the way he pressed closer to you needy and hopeful, as he twisted you so your back was pressed to the cold, tiled wall of the bathroom, with him pinning you against it, as good as your sitting positions allowed him too.

It was only when you seemed to have worked through the first rush of surprise that Frank suddenly pulled away. Confused at the loss of contact you blinked your eyes open, finding his lips were cherry red, and his eyes glowing. It made you want to lurch forward and kiss him again. But before you could, it seemed like dark clouded his face, and the glimmer in his eyes disappeared, the glow he had seemed to emit darkened.

“This is what I’ve wanted the whole time,” he sat back, bringing more distance between you. Agonizing, cold, painful distance. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you without-”

You cut him off then and there. You didn’t care. Yes, consent was important, but now that you knew he wanted to kiss you, you saw no reason as to why you should stop yourself from doing so.

He gasped when your lips met his again, just as desperate as he had been moments ago, but he kissed back hungrily, and placed his warm hands on your waist as you climbed into his lap. He held you close and steady, as you got lost in his touch. An hour ago you could never have imagined thinking this, but he radiated safety. The way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way his breath brushed over your skin in little gasps, the hammering of your heart at the quiet moans that escaped him. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, everything else around you forgotten, only you and Frank. Who cared about hotel bathrooms and touring and bands and music? Not you, not while you were kissing Frank like you had dreamt of since the first proper conversation you had had with him. The voice, that had tried to remind you of this little fantasy while the rest of you had convinced you that you hated Frank, seemed to dance a little dance of joy in your heart, as you wrapped your hands into Frank’s hair, and pulled him closer and closer.

Only when you were completely out of breath, you eventually pulled away, leaning your forehead to Frank’s shoulder. He used the opportunity to push the collar of the bathrobe away a bit, and placed butterfly kisses on your neck until you were giggling.

“I know I can’t make you stay,” Frank suddenly said, lifting his head. You did too, looking down on him from where you sat in his lap. “I know that if you truly want to leave the band, nothing and nobody can stop you. But when you do… do you think you could stay at least with me? I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head to ask what he meant.

“Do you think you could give me – us – a second chance. I love you, (y/n), I love your passion and how you never take shit from anyone, how patient you are, how caring, and you’re the most beautiful person I could ever imagine. I love you so fucking much, and I know I probably ruined any chance, but if I haven’t-”

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him.

Frank eyes widened hopefully, and he watched you very closely as he continued. “So if I asked you to be mine- will you be mine?”

“As much as you’ll be mine,” you answered, your heart beating a thousand miles an hour, as Frank laughed in disbelief.

“My heart’s been yours from the first moment on,” he breathed, before pressing his lips to yours again.

But instead of losing yourself in his kiss, you pulled away again.

“Ask me the other thing,” you demanded, making him look at you confused.

“The other-” he stopped, realisation hitting him like a freight train, and he barely managed to get the words out quickly enough. “Please stay in the band, please I beg you. Will you stay in the band?”

You smiled softly, and brushed his hair out of his eyes, before slowly getting up from his lap. Offering him a hand you helped him up. Immediately he placed his hands back at your waist, his eyes searching for an answer to his question in yours.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, “We have a long tour ahead of us, and I don’t wanna miss out on a proper bed.”

“Is that a-”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll stay in the band. If you stop throwing shit at me on stage.”

Gently you pushed Frank down on the bed, and quickly he scrambled to get under the blanket before he opened his arms for you to crawl into. You followed his invitation without hesitation.

“I promise I’ll only throw myself at you from now on,” he whispered, and you could hear the sly grin in his voice, but when you placed your head on his chest, his heart was racing. He was not at all feeling as cool about the situation as he pretended. It made you grin, and you found yourself liking him even more than before.

“Approved, but only under the condition that you take the guitar off before.”

“That can be arranged,” Frank nodded, playing around with the hem of the bathrobe you were still wearing. “Hey, is that one of my shirts?”

Quickly you sat up again, and brushed the bathrobe off, revealing the shirt you had found in your bag, and put on.

“You packed that one for me,” you accused, but when you glanced at Frank, you found he looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

“You look so good in my clothes,” he whispered, pulling you back down to his chest, and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

His arms were tightly wrapped around you, and while he told you more about how he had felt in the months in which you had been fighting, how heartbroken he had been, how helpless, and how much he had loved you the whole time, you listened to his steady heartbeat until you had fallen asleep.

“Of course she was serious, when she said she wanted to leave,” Ray shook his head, pouring milk into his cereal. “Frank’s been harassing her for months. I’m surprised she didn’t quit sooner.”

“I always thought it was all in good fun between them,” Gerard sighed, sipping from his coffee. “I thought they were goofing around, not actually fighting. I mean, he’s so fucking hard in love with her...”

“Well, yesterday evening they were actually fighting,” Mikey mumbled. “Kept me up ‘till two before they finally shut up.”

“Do you think they killed each other?”

“If yes, we’re in real trouble finding not one, but two new band members,” Mikey sighed.

“I’m not offering my friends again,” Ray quickly defended. “She’s probably already mad that I didn’t shut Frank down more often. I don’t wanna loose more friends.”

“Do we even know anyone who plays drums and would join us?”

“You won’t need a new drummer, if you’ll still have me.”

Your voice made the three look up from their breakfast table, their eyes widening as they saw Frank and you standing next to them. It looked weird seeing the two of you standing so close next to each other without fuming from the mouths. Like an alternative reality, or real life Photoshop.

“Does that mean you’ll stay,” Ray asked, hopeful, his eyes quickly flickering to where Frank’s and your pinkies were linked between you.

“Frank and I talked tonight,” you answered and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to Ray. Frank took the chair on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder, and leant over, gently nudging his nose against your jaw before he placed a kiss there. “He had a few very compelling arguments for me to stay.”

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