#frank iero imagins | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghoulgirlwrites · 11 months

Text

So Don’t Hate Me, Trust In Me

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader

Era: Danger Days

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~1500

Summary/Request: So I was thinking about a Frank X fem!Reader (she/her) during Danger Days era, where they are really close and it's obvious they like each other, and Frank is more forward with liking her, but she's insecure bc she doesn't have any experience with relationships and intimacy (even just handholing and stuff), and is worried he'd be disappointed, maybe even something like she's not good enough for him. And he gets her to talk about it to him and is really understanding and reassuring, and willing to give her time and space, but she feels better after the conversation and wants to try. So basically angst to fluff?

A/N: I LOVED writing this one. It was one of the first fics I worked on in getting out of my hiatus and it was just everything I wanted in a request (particularly Danger Days Frank). Enjoy!

You’d just started a new job as Frank’s guitar tech. It was a dream job for you, since you wanted to work with bands and travel around the world, but you were too shy to get onstage yourself. MyChem were currently on tour promoting their newest album, Danger Days, and you were excited to work for them, since you’d been friends with Frank since shortly before Revenge had come out.

But the best part of the job was getting to work with Frank. The rest of the band was super nice and welcoming, but Frank was so generous and he seemed to care about making your job easier whenever he could. Every time you switched out a guitar for him, he’d grin at you as if you were his personal savior. When you’d first started working for Frank, you’d been nervous that it would affect your friendship, but it had only brought you closer.

However, you were trying to be cautious because you knew you were starting to fall for him. You figured that he was just nice to you because he was nice to the rest of the crew, but you often caught yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him or to run your fingers through his hair, which he’d taken to wearing longer, down to his shoulders. You knew you couldn’t act on these feelings because you figured he’d never like you back and saying or doing the wrong thing could put you out of a job and you really wanted to keep working with him, not just because of your crush.

You were just about finished setting up before MyChem took the stage for tonight. You handed Frank his first guitar and he put his hand over yours on the neck of the instrument, holding you in his hazel eyed gaze.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.” You felt proud that your voice didn’t tremble and you prayed he didn’t notice your hand shaking beneath his.

He turned to head to the side of the stage, but then ran back to you.

“Did you forget something, Frank?” You asked.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say you look really nice tonight,” he said.

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “Thanks.”

You watched him play his heart out, still bewildered from the compliment he’d given you. It wasn’t the first time, but usually his praise was about your work. Your stomach fluttered at the idea that he noticed how you looked. You usually dressed for comfort, in jeans, band shirts, and hoodies and you weren’t dressed that differently tonight, apart from the fact that you were wearing your favorite hoodie. You liked it because it was comfortable, but you also thought that it brought out the color in your eyes.

The show was nearing the end, when Gerard started walking around the stage as he spoke into his microphone.

“So before we play our last song, we wanted to give a big thank you to our crew who do such an amazing job at every show. Thank you to our merch, our lights and sound people--”

Frank cut in. “And I just wanted to call my guitar tech, Y/N, to the stage for a minute. Y/N, where you at, girl?”

Your face burned as you shrunk back, but you saw Frank walking over to you, his guitar still slung around his neck. He lifted one hand, beckoning you gently with one finger. “Come on,” he mouthed, his lips curling in a sweet smile.

You sighed, walking onstage to a crowd of thousands, who were all screaming for you. ‘Bet they’d scream for just about anything if Frank told them to,’ you thought bitterly to yourself. But all thoughts went out of your head as Frank took your hand and led you over to his mic so he could talk.

“This is Y/N, my amazing guitar tech, she keeps me in line all night, can we give her a big round of applause?” Frank asked the crowd, lifting his arms up towards the pit. You blushed over his comment about “keeping him in line all night,” and hoped the stage lights didn’t show how red you felt.

The crowd went wild once again and your face burned even more as you felt Frank wrap his arm around you and pull you into a hug, discreetly kissing your cheek. It was such a quick peck that you were almost sure you’d imagined it, but when Frank pulled away from you, he was blushing too, but grinning, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling.

Frank finally let you go and you escaped to the sanctuary of backstage. You hadn’t wanted to hurt Frank’s feelings by running away, but it made you nervous being in the spotlight. And that kiss on your cheek had made your heart soar, but now you felt nervous. What did it mean?

After that night, you tried to keep yourself busy and limit your interactions with Frank. You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were scared you weren’t good enough for him. You had never really dated anyone and you knew he’d had quite a few relationships, so you were also afraid that your inexperience would be a turnoff for him.

It was hard to totally avoid him though, especially since you worked for him and you’d seen his face fall enough to know that he’d noticed and wasn’t happy about it, but you couldn’t help it.

Finally, he cornered you one day backstage while one of the opening bands set up for their set.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured.

Your heart stopped. You were caught. There was no avoiding the conversation now. You swallowed hard. “Frank, I…I’m sorry. Can we talk about this somewhere more private?” As you said this, you saw Gerard out of the corner of your eye, looking over at the two of you, his eyebrows furrowed. Gerard was hard to miss these days, with his bright red hair.

Frank nodded and you let him take your hand and pull you away from everyone else. Once you’d stopped walking, he held your hand in his still, loose enough that you could let go if you wanted to, but tight enough that you could sense that Frank didn’t want to let you go.

He sighed. “Look, I--I’m sorry if I scared you off that night when I called you onstage, but I just--I wanted to show you how special you are to me and how much I like you, I just didn’t really know how. I didn’t plan on kissing your cheek, it just happened, so if you’ve been avoiding me because of that, I’m so sorry. I never want to make you uncomfortable and I want you to know that we’ll do whatever you want. If you want to pretend this never happened, we can do that, if you want to leave tour--”

You’d been listening to him ramble, your heart fluttering in your chest as he said everything you’d hoped to hear from him, but when he mentioned you leaving tour, you had to stop him. “Frank, I don’t wanna leave tour.”

His face lit up with a cautious sort of hope. “You don’t?”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “No, I don’t.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank God. So what is it then? I miss you and I want us to be good again.”

You sighed. “I like you too. I like you so much that it scares me. A-and I could tell you liked me too and that scared me even more.”

He frowned. “Why? You never have to be afraid of me, you know that.”

You bit your lip. “I know. It’s not that. It’s just that…you know I’m not very experienced when it comes to this kind of thing. And I’m insecure that I’ll screw it up, or that I won’t be good at…you know.” You trailed off, blushing furiously.

His full lips curved in a slight smile, his hazel eyes full of warmth and love for you. “Y/N, you’re going to be amazing, because you’re amazing. But we can slow things down, I can…I can back off a little if that’s what you need.”

You nodded. “Not too far back though,” you whispered, smiling slightly.

He reached his hand out to yours, linking your pinky with yours. The simple, gentle touch felt amazing.

“Better?” He asked, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching up with your other hand to brush his hair out of his face. It had grown down to his shoulders and you loved the way it looked, even when it obscured his beautiful eyes. “Thanks, Frank.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

The two of you took things slow over the next few months. Frank was unendingly patient with you, which made you feel brave enough to progress your relationship. You still worked for him, since it gave the two of you the chance to spend a lot of time together and travel around the world. You loved watching him play music and jump around the stage like a maniac. And after every show, he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

#my chemical romance #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance imagine #frank iero fanfic #frank iero imagine #frank iero x reader #mychem fanfiction #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance fic #mcr x reader #mcr fanfiction #mcr fic #mcr

187 notes · View notes

raytorosaurus · 2 years

Text

they are literally hanging out with puppies backstage if i don't get a full centrefold photoshoot of this event i swear to god

#i'll commit #i need to fuck FRANK here can you imagine what ray would do to me #norm is the touring guitarist for thursday btw #**#frank iero #norm brannon #boston 1

696 notes · View notes

moonxmagix · 1 year

Text

Daddy's Girl NSFW

Pairing: Frank Iero x Fem Reader

CW: Age gap, teacher frank, student reader, light smut, daddy issues, soft frank, underage drinking, mentions of the word daddy, def sexual tension

Summary: Frank is your teacher and you two hit it off. Y/N has heavy daddy issues and Frank takes you in. He treats you like what your childhood self deserved, safety and love.

A/N: This is VERY long. I wrote 11 pages on Google Docs so I'm very sorry LMAO. It might be a bit wordy and not super smutty if thats okay. I wanted to write something softer in nature. Also apologize if there are any grammar mistakes. :)

Reblogs appreciated!

~^~^~^~^

As I sat there in an uncomfortable school chair, surrounded by the ghosts of my past, I stared out the window that was covered in rain. The day was gloomy, constant thundering and on and off downpour. I tapped my foot up and down while playing with my bunny keychain as my anxiety washes over me. School always made me anxious and hate myself, constantly feeling at battle with myself and others.

It was my senior year and I just turned 18, so all I had to do was wait to get out of here. Kinda like prison if you think about it. Our school had uniforms and if anything that was the best part about this place, not to mention it looked like some old money school for rich kids. Which was funny because a lot of the kids here come from nothing, like me.

My drug addicted mother raised me semi alone, meaning that she constantly had men in and out of her life. My real father left when I was only a few months old so I never had that strong, protective father figure in my life. I craved someone to love me, hold me tight, whatever fathers do with their daughters. My moms boyfriends that were long term, aka 6 months, would try their best to be there for me but as soon as I got comfortable with them they were gone.

I tried to stay out of relationships out of fear that the same cycle would happen to me.

“Y/N? Are you listening?” Mr. Iero said, pulling me out of my daze. My head quickly turned to him, almost embarrassed, “Yes sir, sorry.” He turned back to board, continuing the lesson. Mr. Iero was my english/music teacher, he taught both. The first day I walked into his class I had a massive crush on, like journaling and daydreaming about him crush. I never made advances to him because what would he think?

I can’t get him in trouble and I can’t jeopardize my education for some man. I once again zoned out heavily, staring out the window. I watched as a father checked out his daughter early for school it seems, hugging each other under the umbrella as they smiled together. I sighed, rolling my eyes at the sight. Almost disgusting to me but that's just the jealousy getting to me.

“Y/N? Please pay attention, we have an important test coming up and you can’t miss this,” he sighed, putting a hand on his hip. Everyone turned to stare at me as I got smaller in my seat. When I looked back at everyone else to me they had dark eyes, something evil brewing but also something dead. I know realistically that a lot of the people here never paid attention but were much better at hiding it I think.

“Please see me at the end of school,” he said and a few people let “Ooo” escape their mouths. Thanks Mr. Iero for embarrassing me. I wanted to hate him for that but another part of my brain desired to have that alone time with him. Even a hug from him would suffice my animalistic hunger for him. Just, “I’m proud of you,” would motivate me for the rest of the year.

Class was dismissed and I quickly got out of there but he caught my wrist before I could, “Promise me you’ll be here after school. You can’t ditch like the last time.” I nodded and promised him that I would be back. The last time that happened I left out of pure anxiety, I threw up in the hallway on my way to his class. But safe to say this time I could get myself through it.

I went to my locker to change out books and my best friend Livvy came up to me, “Wanna hang out after school? I wanna get coffee,” she said excitedly. “Maybe, Mr. Iero wants to see me after my last class,” I said, I didn’t want to disappoint her. “Omg again? Did you space out again (nickname)?” she said, lightly punching my arm.

“Yeah, I just hope it’s quick. If so, I’ll make sure to call you when I’m done,” I said with a smile. We said our goodbyes as I went to all of my other classes. I watched the clock as it quickly rang, I took a few deep breaths as I prepared myself to see Mr. Iero. I know it couldn’t be that bad but my anxiety tried to convince me otherwise.

I looked through the glass of the door and saw no one inside so I thought maybe this could be my excuse as to why I didn’t show. “Right on time!” a voice behind me said. It startled me so I turned to see that it was Mr. Iero. I softly smiled as he unlocked the door to let us in. I didn’t see it but I heard him lock the door behind me.

I stood in front of his desk leaning against a student's desk. He stood in front of me also leaning against his desk. I kept my eyes to the ground for the most part, “Are you okay? You’ve been very quiet and dazed in almost every class,” he said in a soft voice. My tense shoulders relaxed, still not sure how to respond, “You can tell me, Y/N.” He took a couple steps closer.

“Look at me,” he said in a more demanding tone. I looked at him and he smirked, I wanted to fall to my knees right then and there. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal his tattoos, “I..I’ve just been going through a lot at home,” I said to put it simply. “Sit, let’s talk about it,” he said sitting in the students chair next to me. I sat down hesitantly, I don’t know if he actually cared about me or what. I guess we’ll find out.

I told him about my mom and everything that I’ve been struggling with. I didn’t outright tell him about my struggles with men and not having a father figure of sorts. But he’s smart, so he could probably piece things together based on how I answered some of his questions. At the end of my story I let a few tears escape from my eyes, he reached his hand up and gently wiped them.

He placed his other hand on my knee, rubbing his thumb on it. “You have nothing to worry about with me hun,” he said sweetly, maintaining tense eye contact. He was such a good listener and never interrupted me. “Your secrets are safe with me, I’m so glad you’re finally opening up to me. Since the beginning of the year I’ve had my eye on you, there’s something special about you, Y/N,” he said, whispering the last sentence.

He grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his. I felt my face heat up like a thousand suns and my heart rate picked up. I couldn’t help but let a smile form on my face, “That’s my girl. No need to be sad when you’re around me. Hey, I’ll even move your desk closer up to mine, yeah?” I nodded, feeling like such a typical schoolgirl.

He looked at the clock, “I should probably let you go now. Here,’ he said, handing me a little piece of paper. I pocketed it in my bag and before I left he gave me a big, warm hug. The smell of cigarettes and cologne hit my nostrils, it was a smell so intoxicating that it would stay with me throughout the rest of the day. I left and ran out of there to my house, it downpoured on me though. It made me feel like I was in a movie of sorts, I let the rain fall and drench my uniform and hair.

I ran inside and went straight to my room to text Livvy, it was Friday so I told her to come spend the night with me. I really didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened but she was the only person I could trust with this information, she understood. She literally has a sugar daddy, she has no room to judge me!

Livvy came over and got settled right in with snacks and cute pajamas. “Tell me everything!” she said excitedly. I giggled, “He asked me if anything was wrong, I avoided but he pried so I spilled everything. And now he’s moving my desk up to his, he touched my leg and hugged me!” We were both laughing and blushing over this.

“Oh! I think he gave me his number,” I told her, remembering the paper he gave me that I still haven’t opened yet. “Bitch show me!” she said excitedly. I got the paper from my bag and counted down from 3, I opened it and it had his number inside. “Text him now!” she said getting my phone from my nightstand.

I input his number into my phone, “What do I say though?” I bit my nails. “Something flirty for sure,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. I started to type: hii its Y/N, miss our time together already xo

“Bitch that's good!! He’s bound to fall in love with you now,” she joked.

Hours went by without checking my phone and it was around 8pm. I checked my phone during our movie and he asked to call me, I sat up straight with my eyes wide. “He wants to call,” I said suddenly. “Oh shit! I’ll turn the tv down and I’ll stay quiet,” she shushed herself.

I gave the phone a ring and he picked it up almost instantly, I put it on speaker phone.

Frank: Doing okay?

Me: yeah, thanks for letting me vent. Made me feel a lot better

Frank: I’m glad, honey.

Livvy looked at me with shock, “Honey?!” she mouthed covering it with her hand.

Frank: Um, I wanted to ask if you wanna hang out tomorrow? You don't have-

Me: Yes. I’d love to!

Frank: What time are you free then?

Me: Umm maybe around 12?

Frank: Sounds like a date then

We both hung up and we’re screaming with joy, I never thought this day would come. Hanging out with a teacher outside of school? Is that legal? I couldn’t back out now, my fate was decided. “What am I gonna wear?” I said, asking Livvy for help. She’s always been the cooler one in terms of fashion, so I can trust her to dress me.

~^~^~^~^

It was 10 am and I had just the right amount of time to get ready. I checked my phone and he said he’d be picking me up at my place. Livvy left already and I sat down in front of my floor length mirror and put on light makeup. I got dressed in a black skirt, sheer black leggings, doc martens, and a white and black striped sweater.

The clock finally turned 12 and I looked out my window to not see a car yet. I sighed with relief because in reality I definitely didn't feel ready. I checked my phone and Mr. Iero said he would be there in 5. I went ahead and stood out front to wait for him.

His car pulled up and he got out to greet me, “Wow, you look great!” he said with a smile. He had on sunglasses and chewed his gum kinda obnoxiously but hot. He gave me a big hug and opened the door for me, his car was super clean surprisingly. “Where are we going?” I ask timidly.

“Downtown, get some coffee and donuts,” he smiled, placing his hand on my thigh. “How’d you know where my house was?” I asked. “Teachers have access to those kinds of things,” I just nodded in response staring out the window. It was pretty cloudy and I was kinda hoping it’d rain.

We got to the coffee place downtown, “This is my special spot, for a special girl,” he smirked. I felt my stomach overfill with butterflies and a sparked joy I didn’t know I could feel around somebody. He got out the umbrella and interlocked arms with me, I looked at him with such content but confusion. I felt like I didn’t deserve any of this, none of the kindness, none of the listening, nothing.

He told me to sit down at a booth while he ordered us stuff. I texted Livvy while sitting there:

Me: Liv i think im in love no joke

Liv: i would be too

Me: were getting coffee rn ill update soon

He came back and sat a delicious smelling coffee in front of me, “Thank you Mr. Iero,” I said. “Call me Frank, no need for that outside of school,” he said, he grabbed my hand that was on top of the table. I looked at him, blushing hard, what if someone saw us?

We talked about the things we both liked and hated, we actually had a lot in common. “You like Elvis?!” he said, shocked. “Yeah and?! It’s a comfort thing,” I defended. “Explain,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Sometimes when my mom was out I’d spend the night with my grandfather and in the morning while cooking breakfast he’d play Elvis,” I said, reminiscing when I actually had a somewhat stable relationship with a man.

I think Frank noticed my mood diminish into something solemn. “Let's grab those donuts, I have somewhere else I wanna show you,” he said, grabbing my hand. He showed me off proudly, it felt like he was telling everyone around him to look at me but not in the way I’m used to. He put his mouth close to my ear, “We’ll have to share a donut, they’re almost out of everything,” he said, placing a kiss on my cheek.

We walked under the umbrella together as we started to share the donut, “Don’t lift a finger princess,” he said while holding the donut up to my mouth. He basically gave me the whole thing while he only had a couple bites. “Why do you treat me like this?” I asked him, curious as to why he is so fond of treating me like…a girlfriend?

“I think you deserve it, Y/N. I’ll explain more later,” he said with such sincerity, gripping my hand tighter. Was this going to be a whole day affair? My mom hasn’t been home for a few days so I didn’t feel the need to tell her where I was, it wasn’t like she was answering my messages anyway!

“What’s wrong hun?” he said, taking down the umbrella as the rain had stopped and the sun came out. “My mom hasn't answered my messages, it's been days,” I said, a little disappointed. “I’ll look after you, don't worry about it,” he said as we showed up to a record store. I gasped as I could never afford to buy my own records, it felt like a dream.

We went inside and looked around, I looked around for a ‘The Cure’ album. As I kept looking I felt a body press up behind me and place their arms around my waist and a head on my shoulder. He placed soft kisses on my neck causing me to giggle, I felt him do the same in my neck. “Find what you need?” he asked. “Yeah, did you?” his hands were empty. “Yeah,” he smiled playfully like he was up to something but not sure what.

“Bullshit. You need to get something or else I’ll feel bad that you spent all your money on me,” I said feeling slight guilt about him buying things for me. “I have you, that’s all I need,” he said, pulling me to the register and pulls out his card faster than I can reach for my purse zipper.

He handed me the bag of my records and we left. We didn’t do anything much except go thrifting and it was already 7 PM. “I have one place left to go,” he smiled, pulling out of the spot. “I feel like we’ve been everywhere already,” I said, whining. “Be a good girl and don’t whine for me, okay?” that immediately put me in my place and I complied. I could see a smirk on his face, he knew what he did to me.

I heard a song on the radio that I liked and immediately turned it up, it was You Get Me So High by The Neighbourhood. “You like them?” he asked. “Love them! I’ve seen them in concert twice already,” I said proudly. Livvy knew I couldn’t afford it but she ever so kindly bought them for me.

After a short drive we made it to our destination, a bar. It was quite crowded, I wasn't even old enough to drink yet. I looked at him worried, “I’m not 21..” I said. “I can get you in darling, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. I trusted him but I tightened my lips anxiously. He was able to get me in because he was close friends with the guy at the front.

We got in and the music was at a comfortably loud volume. He dragged me to the bar and ordered me a drink but I couldn’t tell you what it was. Tasted great though!

I downed a couple drinks and I basically became a melting mess in Frank's hands. I held onto him for dear life like someone was trying to pull me away from him. I dragged him outside for a cigarette break, I pulled them out of bag and I forgot my lighter, “I forgot my fuckin lighter.” He laughed at my tone and lit my cigarette for me.

We stood inches apart, he held my waist with his tattooed hand. I took a huff of my cig and blew it in his face, “Naughty girl,” he chuckled. He pulled me in to kiss him and our lips collided. The taste of cigarettes and alcohol mixed perfectly with each other. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to release.

I shared my cigarette with him and he whispered in my ear, “How about you come over to my place for the night?” My heart was beating out of its chest, “Are you sure that's okay? I would need to get my stuff at home,” I said. “We can stop by your place first baby, I do have a few room-mates if that’s okay,” he said looking away embarrassed. “More the merrier!” I joked.

We drove back to my place and I led him up to my room, he sat on my bed and I packed up a couple things. I turned around putting my hands on my hips, “All packed,” I smiled. He patted his hand insinuating for me to sit on his lap, so I did. I wrapped my arms around his neck, “My pretty girl,” he whispered while pushing my hair out of my face.

“I really don’t understand why you like me, Frank,” I said, that feeling of undeservingness washing over me. “Look at you Y/N!. What is there not to like about you? We have so much in common and I can’t get over how beautiful you are,” I need all the reassurance I can get. What if he leaves me? Would another man treat me like Frank does?

“Do you promise not to leave?” I asked tearfully. “What? Of course I do, Y/N. How could I do that to you sweetheart?” he said, hugging me tightly. “We should get going,” he said softly. I nodded and he grabbed my bags for me as we walked back to the car.

We got to Frank's place and it was dimly lit, it smelled of cigarettes and expensive musky candles. I saw band equipment set up, “What’s all this?” I asked. “Oh, me and my friends do gigs on the side,” he chuckled as we walked to the kitchen. A timid man turned around to greet us, he gave Frank a hug and gave me a handshake. Firmly.

“Nice to meet you,” I said shyly. “Franks said a lot about you, nice to meet you,” he smiled kindly and I furrowed my brows a little confused. He talks about me? What did he say? More questions to be answered.

Frank hurried me to his room, it was spacious and had a few of his guitars displayed on the walls. He disappeared for a second and brought back a shirt and pajama pants of his, “Put these on,” I took them. I went into the bathroom bringing my toiletries along with me. I changed into his oversized clothes and washed my face.

I brought out my phone and snapped a pic of me in the mirror sending it to Livvy. She replied almost instantly: not you going home with him !! be safe !! she replied.

I went back out and put my other clothes back in my bag, “You have such a nice room,” I complimented. “Biggest one in the house,” he brags. I hadn’t noticed before but he turned the radio on and it was on a classic rock station. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and incense. Lamps created the perfect sensual ambience.

I laid my head on his soft pillows and Frank hovered over me, caressing my face with his hand. Something came over me, my eyes filled with tears and escaped the corner of my eyes. “What’s wrong princess?” he said, worried. I shook my head, sobbing. Never was I good enough to ever receive a love like this before. Here I had it.

“Tell daddy what’s wrong princess,” that broke me. I couldn’t tell if I was imagining all of this or if it was some sick joke. I straddled his lap, crying into his shoulder. His hand rubbed up and down my back sensually. “I’ve never felt such an overwhelming amount of love and adoration from a man before,” I stated plainly.

He asked me to talk about it so I did. I told him about the men this time, while I did we drank. It got to the point where I only started seeing flashes of my surroundings. One minute I was taking off my clothes, then I was sitting on top of Frank, then throwing my head back and moaning.

I remember seeing Frank go down on me and him forcing my legs open as I was ready to release on his face. Flashes of Frank saying things like, “You're daddy’s good girl…I’ll never hurt you…you’re safe with me…shh you’re okay sweetheart.” His voice vibrated through my skin.

Soon enough I passed out, naked and covered up by the warm sheets. I woke up groggy and still a little drunk around 3 am and had my clothes put back on. I groaned and didn’t see Frank in bed with me but playing guitar across the room. “Frank?” I said, rubbing my eyes. He immediately rushed to my side to comfort me, “Are you okay princess?” he said.

I nodded, “Could you get me some water?” I asked because my voice was hoarse. He brought back water to me and I downed it as fast as I could. He got into bed with me and I cuddled up at his side, holding on for life.

I grabbed Frank's face pressing our lips together, I longed for his kiss and his desire. He pulled away and cupped my face, “If you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do for you,” he said softly. “I am,” I stated so desperately wanting him to take me in, live with him, devote my life to him. “I’d even run away and hide with you if I could. You’re daddy’s girl,” he said pulling me into his chest.

To be safe and sound in his heart forever.

#frank iero #frank #iero #frank iero mcr #mcr frank #my chemical frank #frank iero imagine #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero fanfic #frank iero smut #frank iero x you #frank iero x reader #mcr fanfiction #daddy issues #teacher crush #my chemical romance #my chem fanfic

269 notes · View notes

xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years

Text

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.”

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @deadlovers @casmustdiee @cmtryghoul

522 notes · View notes

mcrbois · 2 years

Text

#I keep imagining all the conversations they've ever had. All the shared ideas that generated the songs we've heard so far. I’m in love.#gerard way #frank iero #ray toro #mcr #my chemical romance

854 notes · View notes

partypoisonzz · 2 years

Text

clean me off (i'm so dirty, babe) (frank iero x reader)

Kinktober Day 9: Period Sex/Shower Sex

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Era: Revenge (2005)

Content:

- Implied pre-poly (Frank/Reader/Gerard)

- Some vague details regarding menstruation/cramps (not graphic though... but the point of the oneshot is that y'all get it on during shark week)

- You cuddle with Gerard and then Frank rails you a few hours later! Aah!

Word Count: 3,743

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

You fucking hate this.

If you could opt out of your period, you absolutely would. In fact, you tried to do just that.

Your doctor told you that you could skip your placebo pills to put it off until next month. You figured there was no harm in trying it out during the tour. You were going to be on the road with the band for four weeks. How convenient would it be if you didn't bleed during any of them?

It would have been extremely convenient, if that was the way that it turned out.

Much to your chagrin, you get your period anyway, — right on schedule, in fact. It isn't pulling any punches this time, either.

Not that it ever does.

You're extremely pissed off by the way this whole thing has played out. Not only are you bleeding, but you have to spend most of your time stuck on a bus or backstage at venues with a bunch of guys. A bunch of loud, sweaty, obnoxious, annoying guys. You love them all to death, you really do. But their energy levels and your hormonal state do not play nicely together.

Luckily, you've pretty much hit the lottery for tonight. You'll be able to end your day in a hotel room with just one of those loud, sweaty, obnoxious, annoying guys, — the one that just so happens to be your boyfriend.

You and Frank will have an entire bed to stretch out in, rather than being crammed into his bunk like sardines in a can. Better yet, you'll be able to get an actual shower. The mere thought of such a luxury makes you want to cry with relief.

Of course, you will only be able to reap this reward if you survive until after the show tonight. By the way that your day is going, you aren't quite sure that will be happening.

Right now, you're curled up on a couch backstage, feeling like you're moments away from death. As per usual, the guys are all over the place, grabbing snacks and taking smoke breaks and talking endlessly about what-the-fuck-ever. You just want your painkillers to kick in or to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep. Whichever comes first.

Alas, neither of those things seem to be coming to fruition. Evidently, you can't even have the couch to yourself.

Gerard settles into the spot next to you without so much as acknowledging your presence. He's throughly distracted, — a Starbucks cold brew in one hand, the latest volume of some comic in the other. You pull your knees into your chest, grumbling to yourself as you listen to him flipping pages and slurping from the straw. You sort of want to scream at him for no particular reason other than existing in your general vicinity, but...

He glances over at you, pulling back from his drink. "So," he starts. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," you respond curtly. "Why?"

He frowns. "Just wondering if you're okay, s'all. You don't seem like you're feeling too great."

You don't know why your eyes are welling up all of the sudden. He just showed you a bit of concern, — the bare minimum, really, — and yet, in your current mess of a state, the sentiment is deeply moving.

Unfortunately, your overly-emotional response only serves to worry him even more.

"Hey." He places his hand on your arm so delicately, like he's worried you're going to fucking explode or something. "Tell me what's going on, for real."

"I'm fine." You chuckle awkwardly, reaching up to wipe your eyes. "Just... having a bit of a rough time right now." You turn to meet his concerned gaze, smiling sheepishly before quietly offering your explanation. "You know. Girl stuff."

The realization seems to dawn on him instantly. "Oh." He nods. "Yeah, yeah. I've gotcha."

Silence settles between the two of you. Instead of bringing peace like you hoped it would, it's just awkward.

Finally, Gerard speaks again. "Do you want me to, like... hug you, or..."

You laugh despite yourself. "You're stupid," you mutter, scooting closer to him.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side. You bury your face in his shoulder. As per usual, he smells like a mixture of sweat, coffee, and cigarettes, but you don't even mind. He's warm, and he seems to actually give a shit about what you're going through, and he's just... So fucking good. You couldn't ask for a better friend... Or whatever the fuck he is when you consider the excessively blurry lines between you, him, and Frank.

He rubs your shoulder, so gentle that you could cry all over again. "I'm sorry, sugar," he says. "If it would make you feel any better, I could get Brian to let you into the bus and you could go lay down in there. Can't believe that Frank didn't try and get you to stay back, if you were feeling bad..."

You shake your head, not bothering to look up. "Didn't tell Frank," you mutter into his jacket.

"You didn't tell Frank?" he echoes. "Why not? You told me, for God's sake..."

You sigh, shifting against him in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. "You could tell something was wrong," you point out. "If I try to keep something from you, you figure it out, anyway. Frank's not like that. He's less of a mindreader and more of a... Lovable, excited puppy?" You chuckle at your own metaphor. "He can't tell what's happening right in front of him sometimes."

You pause, allowing your mind to wander. Of course, given your predicament and the current topic of conversation, it winds up in some not-so-pleasant places.

"Oh, well," you continue with a sigh. "Guess he'll figure it out tonight, anyway."

"What do you... Oh." You look up at him, only to find that his face has gone bright red. Just as you expected. "Jesus."

You nudge him lightly, grinning. "What? Talking about my period isn't too much for you, but thinking about me and Frank having sex is?"

He shakes his head. "No, no, it's not that it's too much," he says. "It's just... I'm thinking..."

You giggle, shifting until your head is resting in his lap. "Knowing you, I'm not sure I even want to know what you're thinking." You look up at him, smiling slyly. "Don't get excited, Gee. We probably won't even end up doing anything."

"Oh." God. You wonder if he can turn any redder than he already is. "Have you ever tried it, though?"

You laugh, swatting idly at his thigh. "What business is that of yours, pervert?"

"I'm not trying to be perverted, I swear!" He holds his hands up in surrender. "It's just... I've heard that it helps..."

"From who?" you press.

He stays silent, fixing you with that deer in the headlights look.

Oh.

"Oh my God," you say. "You have firsthand experience, don't you?"

He turns a darker shade of red. And there it is.

You clutch your stomach as you burst into hysterics. "Holy shit," you manage between howls. "I should alert the media. Hell, I should bring it to the fucking fan forums! Let everybody know that Gerard Way has his red wings..."

"Shh!" Your eyes go wide as he claps his hand over your mouth. "It's not like I want everybody to know. I just thought..."

You push his hand away, still laughing. "If this is some kind of proposition, then no way," you tell him. "We might be closer than most, but I don't know you like that."

He shakes his head fervently. "It's not," he insists. "I just thought it might be good for you to know..."

You snort. "Thank you for your service to womankind, Gerard," you say. "I owe my life to your empathetic ass."

"What gift has he given to humanity now?" You look up to see Frank grinning down at the two of you.

If you were any other three people, your current position might result in obvious jealousy from your boyfriend. Yet, this is just how it is with the three of you.

Still, Frank can never resist a teasing remark. He raises his eyebrows, nudging Gerard's leg with his foot. "Any particular reason why my girl's head is in your lap, Gee?" he asks. "I wasn't about to miss a show, was I?"

"Absolutely not." You sit up, detaching yourself from Gerard, who is still blushing like a fucking virgin despite the fact that he just shared some of the gorier details of his sex life with you.

"Gerard was just telling me a really funny story." You shoot Gerard a sly grin before meeting Frank's eyes with a sweet smile. "You should ask him about it later. It's an absolute riot."

"I'll get around to it." Frank leans down to press a kiss against your lips before pushing a warm cup of coffee into your hand. He pulls back and smiles at you. "Just figured I'd bring you that. You seem like you could use a little extra pick-me-up."

"That's sweet of you, babe. Thank you." You take a sip of coffee as Frank settles in the open space between you and Gerard.

Despite the fact that you have absolutely zero personal space, you feel ten times more alive now than you did an hour ago, thanks in equal measure to the caffeine entering your bloodstream and the men that you're sharing the couch with.

By the time that the show ends that night, you feel like you've been dragged to hell and back.

You're fucking exhausted, though you know you aren't the only one. The guys are all disheveled and half-dead-looking, in their usual states of post-show disarray.

Ray spends the entire ride back showing everyone his newly acquired finger injury.

"Look at this shit!" he exclaims. "There was blood spurting all over the place during "Venom." Thought I was gonna pass out for a second."

"Meh." Frank shrugs, wearing his usual shit-eating grin. "I've seen worse."

"Inflicted worse is more like it," Mikey chimes in.

"Yeah, Frankie." Gerard elbows him in the side playfully. "You're just bitter because you weren't the cause of tonight's biggest injury. Hurts your pride."

"There's still time, you know," Frank shoots back, reciprocating his shove.

You roll your eyes as the four of them carry on, laughing and pushing each other around until Brian calls for them to knock it off.

For the love of God, you think to yourself. Please get me off of this bus with these boys.

Mercifully, you get your wish soon enough. The bus stops outside of the hotel, allowing the group of you to pile into the lobby to collect your keys.

As soon as you drop your bag onto the pull-out couch next to the bed in your hotel room, you heave a sigh of relief. You unzip the bag, collecting your pajamas and a maxi pad. "I'm going to take a shower," you inform Frank as he flops down onto the bed face-first.

He rolls over, looking up at you. Despite his obvious exhaustion, there's a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes.

No. More than mischief. He looks... Hungry.

"Can I join you?"

Dammit.

You sigh. "I mean, yeah, you can, but..." You turn around and head for the bathroom. "Don't get your hopes up, okay? I'm fucking tired. And let me get the water warmed up and stuff before you come barging in."

"Whatever you say, baby," he calls after you.

You hear the static of him flipping through the TV channels as you strip and turn off the faucet.

This is ridiculous, you think. He's totally gonna notice that you're bleeding if you shower together. He'll probably be even more grossed out if you don't tell him beforehand. Maybe you should have vetoed the shower suggestion to begin with. The more you think about it, the worse of an idea it seems to be.

Of course, it's too late for that by the time that he pulls the glass shower door aside and steps in with you a few minutes later.

As soon as his arms snake around your waist, you decide to just come out with it.

"I've got my period," you blurt out.

Frank just chuckles, seeming wholly unphased. "Okay?"

You blink, face burning. "Does that not, like... freak you out at all?"

"Why would it?" he asks. "We've been together for almost a year, babe. It's not like I didn't know it happened."

"I just thought, y'know... Since you wanted to join me in the shower, that you might want to..." You look down at the white tile floor. "Screw around or something."

"Well, not if you don't want to, of course," he replies easily. "But, in the off chance that you did want to... This would be the place."

You blink at this suggestion. "In a hotel shower?"

"Easy to wash away all the evidence." He leans down, pressing a kiss against your neck. You shiver slightly at the feeling of his lip ring pressing against your skin.

In all honesty, you aren't opposed to the idea at all, even less so as he continues to mouth at your neck. It's just that... Well, you hadn't expected this.

"Promise me you won't get super weird about it if it turns out... Well, gross?" you ask, just to be sure.

"I swear," Frank replies. "Not much freaks me out, babe."

"Alright," you reply. "So, how's this gonna work? Like... From a technical standpoint."

"I was thinking..." You let out a yelp of surprise as Frank pushes you back against the shower wall. "Like this?"

You hesitate with a frown. "This seems... Slippery," you say. "The last thing I want is to fall over going heels to Jesus in the shower."

"You won't," Frank assures you. "Just... Wrap your legs around my waist."

You blink at him. "Frank Anthony," you start. "If I end up knocking myself out, I am going to personally kick your ass as soon as I wake up."

"You won't," he repeats. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you against the wall with a surprising amount of stability as you instinctively wrap your legs around him.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart beginning to speed up as you shift against the wall, getting reasonably comfortable. "Yeah," you mutter quietly. "Okay."

He gives you a soft smile, reaching out to gently tuck a lock of wet hair behind your ear. "Don't be nervous, babe," he tells you. "I've got you, see?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, you feel his hand brushing against your inner thigh. "Frank." His name breaks up from your throat, edged with much more desperation than you expected. "Please..."

His lips brush lightly against yours before he pulls back again, his eyes boring into yours with that spark of intensity that drives you wild every time. "You want it, angel?" he asks. "Want to fuck yourself on my fingers?"

You nod, feeling the cold tile pressing against your skin. "Yeah," you say. "Yeah, I do."

"Thought so."

Your head falls against his shoulder as he shoves one finger inside of you, immediately going all the way up to the knuckle without any resistance.

You let out a soft whimper as he thrusts his finger in and out of you, setting a quick rhythm. "So easy," he says. "All wet and open for me..."

You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders. "More," you manage weakly.

"You need more, huh? Need to be stretched out?" He adds another finger, keeping the pace he set before. "How's that?"

It's all you can do not to throw your head back against the wall. "Feels so good, Frankie. Fuck..." Your eyes fall closed as he continues to thrust his fingers into you.

You're so much more sensitive than usual. The feeling seems... Magnified, somehow, albeit being edged with a dull ache that isn't usually there. Despite the fact that your cramps are usually the absolute bane of your existence, you don't actually hate it. In fact, it's almost pleasant.

You gasp as his fingers press against a spot deep inside of you, causing your legs to tighten around him. "Right there, Frankie, oh my God..."

"So needy," he comments, repeating the action all over again. "My pretty girl, begging to come all over my fingers." He leans it to kiss you again, — long and deep this time, with teeth and tongue.

He's moving his hand even faster now, fingers hooking against just the right place, occasionally grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. It's all so overwhelming and so fucking dirty. Your head spins as his name breaks up from your throat, broken. "Frank..."

"Fucking do it." He presses his fingers up into you and holds them there, causing you to tense around him. "There we go... That's my girl..."

You clench around him, muffling your moan into his neck as you come apart. Your thighs tremble violently. You aren't sure if it's because of the position that you're in, or just the fact that everything feels so much more intense than usual, but it feels like it takes forever for you to stop shaking and come back down to earth.

You whine as Frank pulls his fingers out of you. Despite the fact that you just had one of the most intense orgasms in... Well, maybe ever, that burning ache is still there, heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You want more.

No. You need more.

You wrap your legs tighter around Frank's waist, gripping him like your life depends on it. "Need you to fuck me."

"Oh, yeah?" He meets your gaze, eyes flashing. "Tell me how bad you want it, baby."

If he wants you to beg, that won't be a problem. Not at all.

"Need it," you whine, gripping him tighter. "Need you to make me come again. Need to have you inside of me."

He groans. "Oh, Jesus," he mutters before lifting you up the slightest bit higher and pushing inside of you.

You let out a shrill, desperate sound as he fills you up, already clawing at his back. "Do it hard," you plead. "Please, Frankie."

He keeps his arms around you as he bucks up into you, crushing you against his chest so as to keep you from hitting your head on the wall.

"My fucking dirty girl," he says. "Wanted this so bad, but couldn't even ask for it."

"Didn't... didn't think you would... Oh, fuck..." Your attempts to explain yourself are cut off by your desperate whimpers as he fucks you at a bruising pace.

At this point, your belly isn't cramping so much anymore, but the angle ensures that your legs and back do. You can't even bring yourself to mind, however, as Frank fucks you. He's hitting all the right places, and it feels like every nerve ending in your body is awake and buzzing,

"Didn't think I'd what?" Frank asks. "Didn't think I'd want to touch you, just because you're bleeding? Fuck, baby... I couldn't care less." He looks down at your face, smiling slyly.

"Wish you could see yourself right now," he continues. "All blissed out and desperate. You're so..." His mouth moves down your neck as he drives into you, even harder. "Fucking... Beautiful..."

"Frank." You turn your head to the side, feeling your face burn as he continues mouthing along your neck, surely leaving behind a pattern of angry red marks. "Gonna come again..."

"No, no, angel. You gotta look at me."

Slowly, you turn back towards him, meeting his eyes again. That just makes it all the more intense and... Fuck.

You come around him with a high-pitched moan, digging your fingernails hard into his shoulder.

"So fucking pretty. Fuck, baby." Frank throws his head back as he follows you over the edge, coming inside you with a deep groan.

You stay pressed against the shower wall for a while, weak-kneed and lightheaded.

"Hold still," Frank tells you.

You let out a sigh as he slowly pulls out of you. You're afraid to look down and see the mess that you've made, but you can't stop yourself.

You cringe. It's just as bad as you expected. "Sorry about... That," you manage weakly.

Frank shakes his head. "We're in the shower for a reason, right?" he asks. "C'mere. Let me help you get cleaned up."

You slide down against the wall, forcing yourself to stand on shaking legs.

Once you're under the shower's spray, you realize that the water's gone cold. Still, you close your eyes, giving a shaky but contented sigh as Frank washes your back with the hotel soap.

"Can't believe you did that," you mutter as he passes the bar soap over to you so you can return the favor.

He chuckles. "Does it really surprise you that much?"

"Honestly, yeah." You put the bar of soap down and move on to the shampoo bottle, lathering the suds into his hair. "I mean, I wouldn't be so surprised if Gerard did it, but..."

"Hey, now," Frank cuts you off. "Are you really talking about Gerard after I gave you not one, but two mind-blowing, cramp-relieving orgasms?"

You laugh. "Don't even act like you haven't immediately started talking about Gerard after sex, too," you say. "He's constantly there, in the back of our minds. We can't get rid of him."

"I guess so." Frank leans back into your touch like an affectionate puppy before speaking up again. "You wanna know something?"

"What?"

"Gee was the one who actually, uh... Put the idea in my head."

You stop massaging the shampoo into his scalp, feeling your face burning. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I wish I could," he replies solemnly. "He told me you were laying all over him because you had cramps. Said that you deserved, uh... A chance at natural relief, or something like that?" He shakes his head. "I dunno. More and more lately, I get the feeling that he must be into some weird shit."

You laugh. "Well, that weird shit helped," you say. "I guess I really am indebted to him now."

"Yeah," Frank agrees. "Might as well give him a big ol' kiss next time you see him as a thank you."

A smile spreads across your face. "I will, if you don't beat me to it."

Taglist (Ask to be included!):

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @yachiiko @enchantinghouseofwh0res @dangerouslittlefairy

#frank iero x reader #frank iero x reader smut #frank iero smut #frank iero fanfiction #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance x reader #mcr fanfiction #mcr imagines #mcr x reader #my chemical romance smut #my chemical romance imagines #kinktober 2022 #my writing #frank iero x female reader

350 notes · View notes