#mcr imagine

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

A Few Very Compelling Arguments - Frank Iero x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

You had been righteously furious after that.

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

Since then things had completely gotten out of control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it bad,” you asked.

Mikey leant in closer, taking a good look.

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

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

“Shit, (y/n), I’m so sorry-”

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

“Oh fuck-”

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

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

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

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

“(y/n), you’re not-”

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

And with that you stormed off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, not bothering with an answer.

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

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

“What you said about leaving the band-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holding your movement, you listened. Only silence.

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

That was when you heard it.

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

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

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

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

“Frank! Are you okay? Let me in!”

Nothing but more sobs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” he cried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Not me. Gee.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t wanna say,” Frank corrected.

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

“Emotions are complicated,” Frank replied cryptically.

“What emotions?”

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

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

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

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

Frank shook his head against your shoulder again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“’m scared.”

“Of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“Do you think they killed each other?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[anystalker707]

Infatuation

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 5 100 Genre: Fluff / Comfort Summary: Mikey's quiet brother catches (y/n)'s attention, and they're up to doing anything to have him fall for them with the help of their friends, Mikey, Ray, and Frank. A/n: another venting fic, tbh, lmao. not proofread.

I was Mikey’s friend. Of course, I had gone to his place a few times, even spent the weekend, but even so, I hardly saw Gerard come out of his room in the basement. He would rarely make an appearance, only showing up when Donna or Elena asked him to do something for her, mainly to bring things from the store down the street.

I could remember clearly the first time I had seen him. After seeing Mikey through the window of the school's restaurant, my interest immediately sparkled at the sight of one of the other alt kids who roamed the school's campus, so I was quick to ask Pete who he was. Mikey happened to be walking by with his brother when Pete and I hung out by the parking lot.

"The Ways?" Pete raised an eyebrow, scratching the back of his head with his gaze on the two males in the distance, talking beside a gray car. "You wanna know who they are? Mikey and his brother?"

A brother. My eyes went past Mikey to observe the pale figure with dark hair. He looked at Mikey mostly expressionless while the younger one moved around frantically, sometimes motioning inside the car, past the open passenger door. He seemed as if he had come out of a romance by Lord Byron, Poe, Shelley, or Stoker, but bathed in the last century's pop culture. Untouchable, in a way because, after all, how was one supposed to approach him? His eyes judged his brother coldly, already, but something made me want to be close to him, someone who would walk into his room uninvited and have him over just because I don't want to be home alone.

"I mean..." I shrugged—what did he mean by that? "Are they nice people?"

Pete hummed. "Very nice! They are from New Jersey, actually. Gerard moved here so he could study in art school and decided to bring Mikey along with him so he can get used to it since Mikey is also looking for a college around the area."

With a quiet hum, I nodded. "I see."

Mikey seemed hard to be friends with, in the beginning, but things ran by quite smoothly. It started with a simple exchange of assignments that slowly turned into sending each other songs then daily talking before Mikey invited me over to his place because he was having a small Halloween gathering. That's when Ray and Frank came around.

That day, Gerard had only left his basement once. Still, even with small appearances like this, it was enough for the small infatuation in my chest to grow each time.

“What does your brother do, Mikey?” I furrowed my eyebrows. Gerard had walked into the house and shortly went to the kitchen, where Mikey and I did our homework, before going down the stairs to the basement with a seemingly heavy box in his hands. The silence had echoed in the room before I questioned him.

Mikey didn’t even look away from his notebook. “Art school.” And he didn’t say anything further.

Gerard had a quiet nature that was quite noticeable, but it also seemed hard to break. The most I had interacted with him was resumed down to asking him for Donna’s phone number so I could message her something regarding Mikey, as she had asked. It earned me a few murmured words before he held his phone out with the contact's profile.

Ray probably noticed my thoughtful form—things barely went unnoticed by him, after all; Ray had quite a talent for knowing everyone in the group to a base level, which had already shown just after a few weeks of friendship. “So, (n/n),” he said as he moved closer, arm wrapping around my shoulders, “what’s in that little mind of yours?”

My cheeks immediately heated up and my eyes averted away because, after all, thinking about this felt so wrong. It didn’t seem like Gerard wanted to be perceived. I gulped, staring at my shoes, my feet hanging from the short wall contouring the square’s flower bed that I sat on top of. Mikey and Frank preferred the bench beside it. It was a quiet afternoon we had decided to hang out, with the rare occurrence of Mikey and I having our afternoon schedules free after the teachers sent us dismissal emails, so Ray decided to take the afternoon off while Frank... just skipped classes.

“I... It’s nothing.” I shook my head, reaching for Frank’s can of Monster so I could take a sip of it, quickly giving it back to him. “I swear, there’s nothing.”

Ray raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the concrete, next to me. “Are you sure? Doesn’t it have anything to do with the sudden curiosity towards Gerard lately?”

Fuck. My face felt even hotter and I struggled to move away with the way he leaned in until he finally pulled away with a chuckle.

“If you’re afraid I’m going to find anything,” Mikey grumbles, “I’m, at minimum, gonna be happy because Gerard isn’t going to be such a sulking fuck all the time. Maybe he and his bedroom would smell less like mold. I mean, not to discourage you, but Gerard—”

“Mikey!” Ray clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Y’know, (y/n), it’s more about... knowing how to deal with someone who got depression and some traumas on his back. I’m not trying to discourage you, it’s just that you might feel intimidated at first, but Gerard is actually a lovely person. You gotta break that first barrier he puts between himself and everything new, but it might be easy since you’re always around and stuff.” He finished with a wide smile. “I believe in you.”

Ray’s words somehow made me feel more flustered but in a good sense. He had such a way to change perspectives of situations—he would often help us sort things out whenever we had any problem. He was sort of an ideal being; he didn’t seem to have any problems, despite the hard times he occasionally went through just like everyone else. There were uncountable times in which he had spontaneously introduced himself to our issues so he could solve them because, according to him, it was his obligation as a friend. Of course, it can be concerning sometimes since he will blame himself for things he has nothing to do with, so we also do our best to help Ray out, and at least try to return a little bit of what he does for us.

His words didn’t discourage me. They had some use when I first grew the courage to walk up to Gerard and talk with him.

“That shirt you have,” I mumbled to Gerard. We were in the kitchen late at night, with the (maybe) fortunate occurrence of having met each other when getting out of bed motivated by thirst. “Is it themed after a movie or a show? Y’know, the one with a helmet. Reminds me of Star Wars.”

I was almost certain Gerard wouldn’t answer, that he would just put his glass in the sink and leave, leaving me in the thick night silence because I was too pathetic.

“The Mandalorian,” Gerard’s soft voice echoed through the room. “It’s a Star Wars spin-off. Do you like Star Wars?”

Something in my chest immediately warmed up as I looked at him for a second, still wondering if I was imagining stuff. “Um, yeah! Mikey and I watch a lot of movies when I’m over... Never got to watch The Mandalorian, though, since we end up mostly rewatching stuff.”

Part of me hoped Gerard would invite me to watch it with him, but of course, it was a step that was too wide yet. Instead, his eyes just fell to the ground before he nodded shortly. “It’s worth it.” His lips pressed into a soft smile at the moment his gaze met mine and the bottom of his glass met the sink in a quiet clicking. “Well, good night.” He walked out of the kitchen in swift steps.

Not surprisingly, Ray was quick to catch onto what was going on.

“What was going on?” He had asked, approaching me after I went silent for a little too long while he and Frank chatted while we hung out at his place. Frank was sitting weirdly on the armchair of the small dorm room while Ray sat next to me on the couch, where I comfortably had my legs tucked close to support my phone. I didn’t hear the question at first, humming confused as my eyes averted to watch Ray leaning closer to glance at my phone’s screen. “Oh, The Mandalorian?” The corner of his lips tugged up, his gaze already making me want to shrink and disappear. “Well, do you know who really likes The Mandalorian? Gerard even has a Din Djarin shirt!”

“Oh, really?” I tried, even if I could already feel my face burning hot. I really didn’t have a single second of peace.

Frank giggled. “Imagine humiliating yourself for a submissive!”

“I’m not humiliating myself!” I paused the episode so I could put my phone down and glared at Frank. “I’m just—” My thoughts just didn’t come up with anything coherent. It must have been so much fun for them.

“You’re troubling yourself with watching that boring stuff just because the submissive you like is a fan! Dunno...” Frank shrugged. “Sounds a little like humiliation, to me. Do you need a dick that bad, (y/n)?” His question was met with silence, of course. Because, like, what was I supposed to say? What could I possibly use as an argument that wouldn’t have Frank dropping sarcastic remarks? He muffled his laughter with his hand, head falling back against the armchair’s cushion.

Hell. It made me feel breathless, in a sort of bad sense. I wanted to escape that, but at the same time, I felt just like a goddamn puddle, unable even to look at anything other than the weird stain at the corner of the screen of Ray’s TV. It had been a while since I had been with someone or at least genuinely attracted to someone, so Gerard was sort of a game-changer. Something important, in two senses. If I did something wrong, it could affect Ray, Mikey, and Frank. On the other hand, it would also break me a little. Liking him so much while knowing so little about him felt so wrong. I sought anything that would get me closer to him.

“Why don’t you text him?” Ray raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t have his phone number,” I mumbled. I wanted to hide, but also for it to go further, for any hint or help that would get me closer to Gerard. “Nor any reason to do so.”

Ray leaned back against the couch with a thoughtful hum, scratching the back of his head ever so carefully so he wouldn’t ruin his curls. “You do. I’ll send you his number and you’ll send him a text, you see. You could ask him to send you the college’s application rules and calendar, telling him I told you to ask him for them since I don’t have the files. Then,” Ray said as he moved closer, his arm over the couch’s backrest, “you can tell him how much you’ve been liking The Mandalorian. Maybe share theories and stuff. He likes that. Thing is, Gerard is really introverted. You gotta talk to him first and all if you want anything."

As much as Ray was a good problem solver and peacemaker, his advice tended to suck, so we would always think twice before doing anything. I couldn’t even think once at the moment; thankfully, Ray wasn’t wrong this time.

Dealing with Gerard was... difficult at first, though it didn’t take me long to catch on how he had the same texting habits as Mikey, extraordinarily. They didn’t answer all of the texts you’d send them nor did they have the read receipts turned on, so it was a little hard to determine whether they did or not read your messages, at first. It was just like talking to a wall, even if he tended to be more extroverted over texts. That's why I didn't know whether Gerard was okay with the idea of hanging out with me while Mikey was out for a couple of hours.

In the first place, Gerard knew Mikey would leave shortly for a job interview, and later got aware that I'd be at his place since the morning. Those couple of hours of Mikey’s absence wouldn't exactly be awkward—I'd been at his place enough times not to feel awkward in his absence, even more considering how Donna was so sweet—, but it would be nice to hang out with Gerard. Plus, away from Mikey. Not that Mikey would do anything inconvenient; it was more about my sanity.

"You look good," I reassured Mikey from my place on the couch as he stood in the middle of the living room, adjusting his button-up shirt. Donna seemed as if she would die of pride, with a wide smile behind her hands that rested intertwined under her nose. "You're gonna do well, also."

"Of course!" Donna nodded. "Just remember everything we told you, alright? Ask about the workplace and the relationship between the other employees, don't subject yourself to a job that isn’t worth it!"

Mikey hummed with a nod. "Of course."

"Good luck, honey!" She hugged him tightly for a moment. "Go! You can't be late!"

"Right, thank you." He kissed her cheek and proceeded to hug me as well.

"You'll do fine!" I smiled, compelling him to do the same.

Mikey patted his pockets until he recognized the shapes of his phone and keys through the fabric, then left with another quick exchange of words. Donna and I were left staring at the door for a second before she disappeared inside the kitchen again.

The silence was almost deafening while the anxiety threatened to consume me from the inside out. What face would I put on if Gerard came out of his room and saw me sitting there pathetically, with false hope because he didn't even bother to answer me? It was the first time in a while that I felt out of place in the Way household.

"What episode of The Mandalorian did you stop in, again?" The sudden voice almost had me jumping in my place, turning around to see Gerard standing there behind the couch before he made his way around it, taking a seat about a foot away from me. When did he get there, in the first place? It always amused me how quiet he can be, just appearing and disappearing randomly. Mikey can be just like that when he decided not to be chaotic.

A sigh escaped my lips before I nodded, clearing my throat. "Sixth, first season."

Gerard raised his eyebrows with a hum. "We can finish the season."

It's awkward at first. I sat there not knowing what to do, or where to put my hands at. I rolled my shoulders back, trying to let out the breath I had been holding as slowly as possible while resting against the couch before my back started hurting.

Gerard, on the other hand, didn't seem nervous at all, to the point it almost put me to shame. His eyes watched the TV from behind his messy dark bangs with the same amusement as if watching it for the first time. He was still in his Star Wars-themed pajamas, with a loose black shirt that rode up a little with how he had his legs up on the couch.

His index finger rested over his lips, elbow over one of his knees. Sometimes his eyebrows would furrow and his lips would purse according to what happened, and—

His eyes met mine. Fuck.

Thankfully, all he did was look back at the TV the moment I looked away. Maybe I was just overthinking.

"Damn, that’s when he—" Gerard paused, looking at me. "Fuck, sorry. Are you okay with spoilers?"

At first, I pondered saying no because I wanted to be surprised and intrigued as things happened, but was it worth not hearing his excited little comments about something he liked so much?

"No, not really," I chuckle softly, "you can comment all you want."

Gerard’s lips curl up into a cute smile. "Okay."

I don't know at what point it happened, exactly, but Gerard was sitting right next to me. It was nice how happy he looked, moving his hand around while explaining stuff, sometimes pointing at the screen or just moving around to follow what he said.

"And— Din, you know who portrays him, right?" He raised an eyebrow at me. He was so close. Cute, though.

"Impossible not to know, with all the current repercussions on The Last of Us, y'know."

"Right," Gerard hummed with a nod, and whatever he said sounded like gibberish because, as he shifted, I could feel his arm right behind my back. "What do you think?"

"Huh? Sorry, I—"

"Sorry, am I bothering you?" He twists his lips a little. "Do you want me to let you watch it in peace or..."

It almost hurt a little that I had made him think that. "No! I like your comments! They're nice, I like the way you see it all and stuff."

Gerard pressed his lips together in a shy smile as his gaze fell to the ground at the same moment a red tone tinted his cheeks. "Well, thank you," he mumbled, scratching the side of his face.

Soon, the episode finished and the preview of the show was displayed on the screen instead, but it wasn't like we would watch anything else.

"—the character designs, you know? I think that's what really gets me! They're well built not just regarding their story, but also their visual, y'know? It's something that inspires me a lot!"

"Oh, Mikey did tell me you go to art school!" I grinned, watching his eyes lighten up. "I guess I have seen one of your works. Was it you who drew Ray, Mikey, and yourself in a cartoon sort of style? With blood and all?"

"Yes!" He nodded frantically. "I decided to make a little something for us because it completed around 10 years that we've been friends! What did you think of it!"

"Loved it! It looked very nice! 'Would love to see more of your works, even." My cheeks heated up a little with how I was advancing, but I still had confidence in myself. After all, Ray said he would like me and Ray knew both of us well.

Gerard’s lips twisted into something between his shy smile and a proud grin as his eyes wandered around the room for a moment. "Well," he mumbled, pulling the strands of hair away from his face, "I can show them to you, anytime."

"That’d be lovely—"

I interrupted myself at the sound of the door being opened, and Gerard and I turned to see Mikey walking in with a sigh. He closes the door behind himself and stands there in silence for a moment as if grounding himself. Only when he opens his eyes again that I dare to speak.

"Hey, Mikes! How did it go?"

Mikey raised his eyebrows a little as he saw Gerard and me on the couch. "Um, went well, I believe! They said they're going to call me in one week in case I'm hired."

"Congrats!" Gerard extended a hand, which Mikey high-fived with a wide grin. "Barnes 'n Nobles?"

"Yeah!" Mikey nodded. "It seems nice, will give me some extra money and the shifts are flexible." He paused and leaned back, glancing past the kitchen's doorway. "Where's mom?"

"She— Isn't she in the kitchen?" Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. "We didn't see her leave. I mean, I didn't. Did you?" He asked me, but I shook my head.

Mikey raised his eyebrows a little and glanced back at the TV before slowly nodding. "Right. (Y/n), I—"

Gerard interrupted his brother by clearing his throat as he slowly put himself up to his feet. The cold air embraced me, making me already miss his closeness. "Well, I got some stuff to work on. See you guys later." He nodded at Mikey and me, his gaze lingering over mine before he disappeared once again.

It was like a trigger. Just the sound of the door to the basement closing already had my cheeks flaring up, which quickly attracted Mikey’s attention.

"Spill it up, you whore," he joked. "C'mon, I'm hungry. I'll grab something then we can go to my room." He remained silent while we got some snacks from the kitchen then rushed upstairs into his room, closing the door behind us. "Tell."

My cheeks start burning again, and I can't meet Mikey's gaze. "There's nothing to tell." I put what I had brought on the desk, and pulled the chair to take a seat.

"Suuure..." He rolled his eyes. "Gerard was looking at you as if you were a brand new Star Wars action figure."

"What kind of comparison is that?" I scoffed, trying to think what it would look like.

"Don't you dare say I didn't warn you when he starts spending more time taking care of his collections than with you." Mikey hummed with a glare while opening a can of Coke, and I can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah! But Mikey— He's so cute," I groan, burying my face into my hands. I would give anything to spend more time with him like that again.

It was a couple of days later that Ray decided to call for a group hang out again, this time breakfast at a neat café downtown. Mikey didn’t lose time before spilling everything on the gc, so he was curious, being nosy as he was.

The café he chose was something near the dorms, which Ray liked to visit once in a while between lectures because both the price and quality were good. Soft colors took the place while some nice pictures hung from the wall, all of them contributing to a nice atmosphere that was completed by the ambient song.

"Tell me," Ray whined with a pout. "What did you two talk about?"

"I told you!" I widened my eyes a little, playing with the paper around the coffee cup. "We, um, finished watching the first season of The Mandalorian while talking about it then started talking about character design, drawings, and stuff. He even said he could show me more of his drawings if I was interested."

Ray's pout turned into a grin as he clapped lightly. "Wow, that's some good advancement! I can't wait for you two to get together! We can go out Christa and me along with you two!"

"Yeah, right?" I couldn't help but grin as well. "That would be cool."

"Have you two talked ever since?" Frank asked before taking a sip from the straw.

"No, no." I shook my head and pulled my phone from my pocket, getting to Gerard's chat. The last message was me asking to hang out while Mikey was on his job interview. It wouldn't hurt to text him now. It was a wild idea, maybe, but I ended up just typing it. 'Good morning, beautiful,' the message displayed on the screen without being sent yet. "Frank, what if I..." I showed him the screen. "What if I, hm?"

Frank furrowed his eyebrows as he read the message before giggling. "Yeah, yeah, do it!"

"Careful," Mikey hummed. "You don’t wanna die and have Frank advice as the cause on your gravestone!" Words that went ignored by Frank, who just giggled more.

Ray was pouting yet again. "What? What is it?" I showed him the screen as well, watching his eyes widen a little. "Oh, bold!" He chuckled, but it stopped the moment I sent the message. "Wait— You sent it?"

"What?" I almost feel my heart drop inside my chest. Shit, am I rushing things? "C'mon, you all were so positive about it!"

"Ironically!"

"Not me!" Frank shook his head.

"Nooo..." I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"Well, at least you can know it's 50/50," Ray tried, "either he replies in the same level or... maybe a block."

"Don't exaggerate!" Mikey clicked his tongue. "Not a block, but maybe ignore you, I don't know."

My heart seemed to beat faster at the same proportion it sunk deeper into my chest. "You're not helping—"

Ding. A notification. Everyone fell silent, eyes focused on the phone. A message from Gerard.

Gerard<3:

Good morniiing!!!☀️

"My God," I cried out softly with a hand over my mouth. "He's so cute!" I ended up just letting Ray take my phone from my hand as I continued to freak out both in relief and also at how cute he genuinely was.

"Genuinely pathetically humiliating yourself for a submissive," Frank said in a reprehensible tone, clicking his tongue. "You're freaking out over a good morning with three i's!"

"But Frank!" I groaned, taking my phone back. "I like him so much it hurts..."

Ray hummed, touching my shoulder. "Maybe you should let him know. Like, there's nothing to lose. He is a chill guy, wouldn't be awkward or anything if you like him and all. Unless it affects you a lot, of course."

These three have some sort of power, sometimes, but nothing good. The way they encouraged me always had me acting by fucking impulse. It had its advantages, of course, though sometimes I would be left wondering how easily I could let these three get into my brain.

"Okay." I hummed with a nod. "It's worth a shot, right? And—"

"Me!" Frank raised a hand. "Let me be the one to tell him, please! I'll be like, 'Gee, hear me out, (y/n) wants your ass!' What do you think?"

I stared at him for a moment. "And I really trust you, Ray! I'm counting on you!"

That night, I didn't rethink my choices when I went home. Maybe it was me trying to avoid problems—or what I considered to be problems—, but my mind was troubled with other things when it hit the pillow before sleep took over.

In the morning, Ray had only sent me one message. Done. And there was no coming back.

Gerard hadn't messaged me after the previous day's conversation, and part of me also hope he wouldn't, even if I kept checking my phone every two minutes during classes. Part of it was increased due to how Mikey didn’t go to class that day, just sending me a 'crash by after class' during the lunch break.

I stepped into the Way household like a scared cat, even if the chances of seeing Gerard were small. Donna welcomed me warmly as always, so I just went up to Mikey’s room after she told me where he was.

"Why didn't you go today?"

"Wasn't feeling like it." He twisted his mouth. Mikey was sprawled across the bed.

"Right." I sighed and pulled my notebook from my bag, leaving it over the desk. "In case you need it."

He nodded as a quiet thank you. "Wanna watch The Last Of Us?"

"Can't watch it alone?" I smirked, chuckling at his grimace.

"Fuck you!" Mikey clicked his tongue and reached under his bed to get his laptop. "Be useful and go get us something from the fridge, c'mon!"

I rolled my eyes, sighing as I left my bag hanging from the desk's chair. "I didn't even sit down yet and I'm already being treated as a slave! Fuck you," I said as I exited the room, leaving him snickering behind.

Donna had already disappeared again when I reached downstairs, so I just walked into the kitchen, looking for something Mikey wanted before I grabbed myself something to eat and to drink as well.

"Hey." The quiet voice almost gave me a heart attack. Gerard stood there in the middle of the kitchen, just like a goddamn ghost.

"Hiii..." I said a little breathless, letting the cans of soda and juice on the counter before I closed the fridge.

"So..." Gerard played with his hands a little, eyes wandering around the room. "I, um, I don't want to beat around the bush because it would be harder for me, but... Uh, Ray told me, um, something, and I was wondering if it was true. Maybe not just regarding him, but also regarding you, because..." He ran out of air and cleared his throat, wetting his lips. "I'm sorry for rambling, but..."

The silence felt so thick. As if I was underwater, given how difficult to breathe and to move it felt.

"I..." My mouth felt so dry. "It's true, Gerard. I already had my eye on you a while ago, and I sort of just..." I shrugged a little.

"For real?" He blinked, but his eyes never met mine. "Isn't it some sort of dare or something? I mean, you must be nice if Ray considers you to be one of his best friends, but I wouldn't be able to handle it if it were a dare. I'm so sorry."

"No, no! It not a dare!" I shook my head. I didn’t know what to to with my hands, so I held them together in front of my chest. "I genuinely think you're nice, and cute, and pretty! I wouldn’t lie! Mikey is like, my best friend, I wouldn't dare to hurt you! Well, not just because of him, but also because of you!"

Gerard’s cheeks quickly gained the red tone that adorned them so many times. His hands weren't fidgeting so much. "For real?"

"For real." I smiled softly, and extended my arms in an inviting manner. "Um, a hug?"

Gerard was hesitant at first. He took a small step towards me, though then soon throwing himself in my arms and hiding his face in my shoulder. "Sorry, it's just... no one ever had interest in me or anything, I am always much like a shadow, so..."

"Don't worry about it!" I patted his back softly. "I think you glow, actually. You're so pretty, I— Sorry, I don't want to scare you away."

"It's fine," he almost chuckled. A smile adorned his lips when he pulled away a little, remaining close. "I... Um, I'm wondering if I can..." His eyes drew to my lips a couple of times. Fuck. He's adorable.

"Yeah, go on!" I grinned for a second before I let my lips rest proper, soon meeting his in a sweet kiss that made something stir in my chest in the best way possible. "Was that good!"

"Can I do it again?"

__________________________________________

Check out the masterlist

#gerard way #x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #oneshot #gerard way x reader #gerard way oneshot #imagine #mcr #fan fic #fan fiction #mcr x reader #mcr imagine #mcr oneshot #writing

[mychemicalparagraph]

No but seriously imagine it

You’re seeing Paramore on a concert. Everyone is having a great time. Paramore seem a little excited. “We have a surprise for you guys.” Hayley says. All of a sudden FOB come out and start singing “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” When Patrick gets to the chorus, someone else starts singing…

“Long ago, Just like the hearse you tied to get in again.”

Red lights flash everywhere, and you see Paramore singing “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” along with FOB, while MCR is singing “Helena”. Everyone in the crowd is going wild and crying. Then if things couldn’t get any better, Dan and Phil walk onto stage and kiss, holding the gay flag.

#mcr #my chemical romance #gerard way #shitpost #my chem #mcr gerard #my chemical fucking romance #my chem memes #paramore #hayley williams #taylor york #zac farro #fob #fob imagine #mcr imagine #paramore imagine #helena mcr #pop punk #Imagines #Imagine #lgbt #gay community

[mcrimagines]

Imagine: You asked gerard what the bottom of his show looks like- and he brought all his friends to show you!

#gerard way #mcr imagine #my chemical romance #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine

[disenchantingwrites]

Hold Me Close • F.I

It’s been weeks, months, since you got to see your husband. When he returns, you want nothing more than to be with him, and he has no objections.

Frank Iero x GN!Reader

A/N: I am so whipped for this man omg. My MCR hyperfixation has come back (I saw them and it's now my only personality trait) so there might be some more if I can fix my burnt out state :/

Word Count: 505

---- ---- ---- ----

Frank had been gone for so long; you were sure by the time he got back, you would have forgotten his face. Okay, yes, maybe you were being slightly dramatic, especially considering he video-called you almost every night, but it felt that way. Touring was always busy, and you were occupied, too, with work and the kids when they got back from school. It felt almost strange to have him back with you, and you knew it was weird, too, not being on tour, but both of you were glad to have each other so close now.

“I wish I could just curl up with you and never let you go,” you hummed, taking the space on the sofa beside Frank. He grinned at you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I know.” His hand snaked around your waist, pulling you tight against him. “I missed you.”

You smiled at his affection. “I missed you, too.” Your brain swirled with an idea, and before you or Frank could say anything, you were sitting on his lap, palms cupping his face.

“What’re you doing?” He frowned, hands immediately coming to your waist to keep you there.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. He furrowed his eyebrows at your lacking response. Then you pressed one to his nose, then one to the spot beneath his eye. He grinned at your actions, a soft laugh passing his lips. Your thumbs stroked his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his jaw, ignoring the stubble.

“Is this how you plan to spend your lunch break?” He queried, amused as he pressed his forehead to the top of your head. You hummed in response and shrugged. “I’m not complaining, but you should get something to eat.”

“I can eat while I work, Frank. Just let me spend this with you. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

You pressed another kiss to his cheek on the opposite side. He didn't respond, only ran his hands up and down your sides. You pulled back for a moment, silently looking into each other’s eyes before you smiled at him. He returned it momentarily. You leaned down and pressed your lips against his into a tender kiss that felt like it lasted for an eternity, which still wasn't enough.

“I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” Frank replied.

He leant forward and connected your lips again. You curled your fingers into his hair, unable to repress your grin. You pulled away and pressed another kiss to his forehead. Your hand slipped down to the scorpion tattoo on the side of his neck. He hummed your name, and your eyes darted back to him.

“How long do you have until you’ve got to get back to work?” His fingers were trailing back down your sides, only to slip under the hem of your shirt. “Because...”

You could catch the innuendo he uttered and rolled your eyes. “Little more than half an hour.”

Frank’s grin widened. “Brilliant.”

#x reader #disenchanting writing #gender neutral reader #frank iero #frank iero x reader #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero imagine #my chem #my chemical romance x reader #my chem frank #my chemical frank #mcr #mcr x reader #mcr imagine #frank iero one shot #Frank iero fluff #mcr fluff #fiatfv #fiatp

[thesebright-lights]

To continue the unnamed Supernatural (not the show) MCR AU from my last post

I wanted to talk a little about when the band starts touring. DISCLAIMER: this is not waycest. You won’t find that on my blog. In this AU, vampires are very scent oriented, and Mikey and Gerard have a close BROTHERLY relationship.

When they record music together (and eventually spend time in the van with each other while touring) Frank starts to notice some of the others' quirks. Mikey and Gerard really seem to like kool aid, and Ray seems to eat almost nothing but meat. It’s strange, but he figures that he’s met people with weirder shit going on.

In the van, Ray always slept in a way that looked.. mildly uncomfortable, and kind of reminded Frank of how a dog curls up on the couch. After a little while, he finds it sort of endearing.

Mikey isn’t the touchiest person, but there are a few brotherly moments that he sees pass between them. There was one night where they were headlining at a venue that had sold out- Gerard was nervous, it was the biggest crowd they’d ever had at a headliner, and he’d started to have what looked like a panic attack. Mikey went over to him and pressed their foreheads together- Gerard eventually buried his face in Mikey's shoulder, too. Frank had had a few panic attacks over the course of his life, and he knew that having someone you trusted there to help you could make a serious difference- that moment made him realize just how close the two brothers were.

Gerard, on the other hand, was big on showing his affection physically- a hand on someone’s shoulder, even a hug after a performance- and Frank realized that he was always.. cold. It was a bit unnerving. St some point, though, it occurred to him that that might be why he often sat so close to him or Ray (strangely, not so much Mikey).

He also could have sworn he heard Ray growl at a man in a bar, once. The man had come over and started to bother Frank, asking if he could buy him a drink while he made some not-so-subtle sexual advances. Ray stood up and grabbed the man by the shoulder (were his nails always that sharp?) and growled in a way that shouldn’t have really been possible as he told the man to leave Frank “the fuck alone”. Suffice to say, it worked.

Once or twice, Frank caught himself wondering. Gerard really got emotional during Vampires Will Never Hurt You and Early Sunsets Over Monroeville- combined with the rest of the bands strange behavior, could it be..?

No. What was he thinking? Theres no such thing as vampires. Besides, Monroeville’s about zombies, and he’d touched Ray before, the mans temperature was normal- Gerard probably just had some medical condition.

Thats what Frank told himself as his band mates went to sleep while he drove the van. Ray looking content, curled up in a position that looked like it would hurt the next morning, Mikey looking like a literal corpse, and Gerard with his arm presses against Frank's. He couldn’t help but smile.

#mcromance #my chrmical romance #mcr #my chem #mcr imagine #mcr au #vampires #werewolves #vampire gerard #vampire mikey way #werewolf ray toro #frank iero #fanfiction #mcr fanfiction #supernatural au #vampire au #fandom

[new2fivesauce]

Until My Heart Explodes - Frank Iero

Howdy,

This is just a small smutty chapter of a series I had been working on a long time ago. The synopsis was that Spencer (Gerard and Mikey's sister) was ex-drummer for MCR. She departed the band suddenly, but came back hastily during the recording of Black Parade due to Gerard's drug addiction, Mikey's alcoholism, Ray (and Bob) possibly quitting the band, and Frank, her best friend with benefits, suddenly being engaged. I never completed it, but if anyone is interested, I can post the chapters that led to this one.

Pre-Black Parade Era

Warnings: nothing much other than a little smut and Frank being a cheater

Words: 2k

It was past midnight and the lady at the reception desk had eyeballed him with the most shameful eyes ever. Frank ignored her as he sauntered towards the elevators. He probably looked a bit sketchy in his dark clothing, dyed hair, and remnants of eye makeup, but who was that lady to judge? He mumbled miserably under his breath as the elevator eased to a stop at his floor. He read his sloppy handwriting on his key card, read the numbers on the doors, and then prayed to the key card gods that his key worked when he stopped at the room that was supposed to be hers.

He wasn’t worried about her having given him the wrong room number. He was worried that he transposed the numbers and that he could possibly be trying to creep into some unknown person's room. He inserted it; when the red light flashed green quickly, he pulled it out and turned the knob. He sighed in relief as he pushed the door open. The room was dark, but he knew without a doubt that he was in the right room. It smelled of peonies and cherry blossom lotion, a hint of chamomile tea, and clothes’ starch. Frank kicked his shoes off as he closed the door silently. He locked it and then began to tiptoe to where the bed was. His eyes took a while to adjust to the dark but when they did, he noticed the ironing board next to the TV, clothes ironed and folded for the next day. A suitcase close to the bathroom door. Lotions, makeup, and charging phone on the nightstand. Her sleeping body was enveloped under the thickest comforter. Frank pulled his jeans and t-shirt off, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs. He inhaled silently and then crawled under the covers. He scooched over until he could embrace her. He wrapped his arm around her midriff and pulled her close. The smell of her coconut shampoo, although so familiar with it, nearly drove him over the edge.

Spencer was not like any girl he had ever been with. Her confidence and self-esteem blew through the roof. She knew she looked good but wasn’t cocky about it. It was one of the things that drew Frank to her. Also, the fact that she was a sex goddess in bed. Frank’s mind wandered to all the places they’d fucked. Her naked body and faces of pleasure had remained ingrained in his mind. But it wasn’t only her looks and talent in bed that had kept him interested in her. She was intelligent, feisty, funny, and a bit difficult to read. He had always loved the challenge of trying to figure out her next move. His mind suddenly darted to Jamia… his fiancée. Guilt filled his conscience. He sighed heavily. Jamia was a pretty girl and underneath the baggy clothes, her body was fantastic. But she lacked confidence. Their sex life wasn’t all that either; It was pretty vanilla and she hadn’t made any indications that she wanted to spice it up. She was the safe choice. Gerard’s fuck up had opened his eyes and scared him shitless. He suddenly felt the need to settle. Other than that, he could say he was okay with their relationship…

Spencer awoke with a start, her body jolted before it tensed from the heavy weight of someone embracing themselves around her. Frank felt her shift, shushed her, and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Spencer, realizing that it was only Frank, relaxed and eased her body back to mold herself with him. Frank smelled of cinnamon, cigarettes, and coffee. Even at whatever ungodly hour it was, Frank strangely always smelled of coffee. Spencer drew in his scent and quickly fell into slumber again. It took Frank’s non stop fidgeting to wake her up again. She turned her body sluggishly, her eyes still closed. Frank grabbed her by the hip to pull her flush to his body. He brought his face to hers and pressed his lips to her lips. Although drowsy, Spencer didn’t mind the slow, intimate, yet hungry kisses. Frank’s hand wandered from her waist to her bare thigh. She was in his favorite sleeping outfit: undies and an oversized t-shirt. He squeezed her thigh and a soft moan escaped Spencer’s mouth into his. He was fucking turned on and ready to take her in that moment, but that guilt gnawed at him again. Frank pulled away and she whined. He chuckled. “I missed you.” He whispered to her. She nodded as she gently opened one eye to look at him. He bit his lip as he watched her face. Since her argument with Ray and her departure from the band’s temporary housing while they recorded their third album, it had been easy for them to be together when and where they wanted. Even though nothing more than kissing had happened, tonight was definitely different. There was electricity in the air. Months of separation led to the built-up sexual tension they both were feeling suddenly. Spencer sat up. She gave Frank a small push, making him land completely on his back. In the shadow of the night, Spencer looked just as gorgeous as ever. She pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head, exposing her body to him. She straddled him, her warmth making him instantly hard. He smirked up at her. The only thing stopping them now was their underwear. Spencer returned the crooked smile. She grinded against Frank and made him whimper. “I missed you too.” She whispered to him before Frank flipped them over and attacked her lips. The kiss was hard, hungry, savage, full of saliva, tongue, and teeth. Frank bucked into Spencer, causing a gasp to slip out of the both of them. 

The guilt that had chewed at him had grown almost nonexistent as his hands roamed his lover’s body as if it was his first time touching her. Although they had done this countless times, he was always nervous with Spencer as if it was their first time. 

“Please…” Spencer groaned as he peppered kisses along her chest and gripped her waist while the other wrapped around the back of her neck. “Please, Frank… I’m so goddamn horny. Please, fuck me. I need you. I miss you. Please.” 

Her whispered whines had Frank almost in pain. How could he have let her go? How had he gone so long without her body against and inside her? His dick throbbed, aching to get inside her. He slid off her boyshort underwear in a swift movement.

The soft moonlight that filtered through the window curtains was the only light in the room, but Frank could see Spencer glistening for him when he spread her legs open. She was fucking beautiful, lying on this hotel bed with dim illumination. Frank’s mouth watered as her pussy clenched around nothing.

Spencer was looking up at Frank as he admired her. His eyes were staring down at her most vulnerable part with such adoration. She’d never seen him look at her in that way. She slowly brought him back to reality, when she reached one of her hands to rest on his thigh. He blinked himself back to earth and with a weary smile, he pulled his briefs off.

He settled in front of her entrance, his tip teasing her. Spencer tried to press him into her, but he tsked and pinned her legs down into the soft mattress. “Patience, babe…” he softly said. 

She managed to prop herself up on her forearms, just as Frank eased his tip in. Her head tilted back, eyes half-closed, her bottom lip tucked between teeth. 

They gasped collectively as Frank eased in till he was at the hilt. Frank was well endowed and given the time it’d been since their last encounter, he gave Spencer a few seconds to adjust to his length and girth. 

She didn’t finish collecting her thoughts though as Frank snapped back and slammed vigorously into her. He held her thighs apart, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and it was driving Frank crazy. She felt so damn good around him. Her soft velvet walls clenched tight as he felt her first orgasm beginning to form. 

Spencer tossed her head left and right, strung out from the ecstasy. Incoherent words tumbled out her mouth but the only thing Frank could make out was his name and the occasional “fuckfuckfuck.”

Spencer suddenly looked at Frank wide eyed. Frank didn’t stop, just slowed his rhythm down. He knew she was close, he knew the exact way her pussy felt when she was almost there, but he wasn’t ready for her to climax. 

He pulled out. An exhausted whine left Spencer as she propped herself up again. Frank didn’t say anything. He just raised a finger and twirled it once in the air. She struggled into a sitting position before turning facedown on the bed. They knew each other so well, they didn’t even use words.

She balanced herself on her hands and knees but Frank leaned forward to push her hands from under her making her drop down to her elbows. 

“You should know better.” He mumbled lowly into her ear as he pulled himself back. He spread her legs apart as he placed a hand on her lower back slightly pushing down to angle her ass up more. He groaned at the sight. Her arousal was dripping from her core. He took two of his fingers to swirl it around. It was warm and sticky. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He said as he teased her entrance. Spencer didn’t reply. She only exhaled in anticipation. Frank’s fingers wandered upward towards her other hole. He teased the puckered entrance by pressing in gently with his thumb. His mind wandered to the couple of times they’d tried anal and his dick twitched. 

Spencer tensed at the sensation of his thumb entering her back entrance. She was not opposed to it but she wasn’t warmed up and Frank had edged her. She needed an orgasm and she wasn’t going to get it that way. 

“Please…” she whimpered as Frank lazily began to massage in and out of her. It felt good but she needed more. “Need you. Need to cum.”

He didn’t need her to beg anymore than that. He was close himself just seeing the way he was toying with her. He hooked his thumb in her ass as he guided himself back into her soaked entrance. Spencer sighed in bliss as he picked up his pace. She groaned as Frank eased his thumb out of her back hole and gripped the soft skin of her hips and butt to guide himself into her the way she liked. 

Another several pumps and Spencer could feel the familiar knot in her stomach start to form. “I’m almost there.” she moaned into the pillow beneath her head. Frank kept his pace, his eyes already adjusted to the dim room and able to make out the way Spencer’s folds were fluttering around him. 

“I’m gonna–” Spencer mumbled, a white flash spread across her closed lids as her body caught the wave of her orgasm and caused her shudder. Her body began to grow limp as Frank finished himself into her just as the euphoria settled over her tired body. 

Their bodies collapsed next to each other. They both gasped for air as the high dissipated. When their heart rates had gone back to normal, Frank and Spencer got comfortable once again with Frank spooning Spencer as he had before.

“Frank…” Spencer whispered, hoping that Frank hadn’t fallen asleep yet. He hmmmed as he leaned into head and kissed her hair. “Is this going to be the last time?” 

Spencer felt Frank stiffen the arm that was draped over her side, completely unaware that that was what she was going to ask him. 

“I don’t know, baby.” he answered weakly. He brought her closer to make her feel less insecure and he figured it did because her breaths became slow and deep not long after that. 

He laid restless against the person he figured was his one true love. He just knew they weren’t anywhere close to making anything official; Spencer had made that clear when they’d first started with their benefits relationship.

The guilt that had vanished temporarily was starting to creep up again. He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to Spencer’s head and hoped that feeling would be gone by the morning.

#frank iero #my chemical romance #my chem #mcr #frank iero imagine #frank iero smut #until my heart explodes #mcr imagine #my chemical romance imagine

[personthattoleratesme]

iykyk

#no but seriously imagine it #dan and phil #dnp #mcr #my chemical romance #fob #fall out boy #destiel meme #2k

[ilovepriestgerard]

The way Brendon Urie is the most unrealistic part of us seeing Dan and Phil walking into a stage kissing holding a gay pride flag while mcr plays The Black Parade onstage with Fall Out Boy this year is craaaaazy...

#no but seriously imagine it #my chemical romance #gerard way #mcr #fall out boy #panic at the disco #dan and phil #when we were young #petekey

[matimatti]

Bingyuan au where sy and binghe go to a convention, platonically

#svsss #bingqiu #i was gonna draw sqh in the background but im too tired imagine him on two hours of sleep trying to sell his new book #bingyuan #i dont know if this binghe is from pidw or not but i like to imagine that he is and sy is teaching about important stuff like light novells #and cute plushies #being into mcr was all binghe shen yuan didnt have anything to do with that #matinart

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Kiss - Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: K: Kiss (How do they react to a kiss? Flustered? Happy? Surprised?) (from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Warnings: alcohol mention, food consumption (sweets) Word count: 1 369 A/N: Let’s ignore the energy bill and climate change for the sake of fiction.

The ice underneath the blades of your skates was slippery but you were glad you held a good balance. Even with the hand that was tightly clasped around your gloved fingers. You chuckled as Gerard tightened his grip on you, swaying slightly on his skates while you were gliding along in the thinning out crowd, late at night at your city’s ice rink, right in the middle of the Christmas market.

The surrounding buildings were already decorated with Christmas lights, the stalls that were built up on one side of the ice rink still selling their goods, ranging from tiny window decorations and figures, over soaps, baking equipment, sweets, mulled wine and savoury snacks. And right beside the rink stood the tallest Christmas tree you had ever seen. It was decorated in reds and golds, thousands of tiny lights illuminating the dark around you beautifully.

Before getting your ticket to the ice rink, Gerard and you had wandered over the market, hand in hand, looking at all the stalls. He had treated you to caramelised almonds, taking way too much delight in feeding you with them. You had felt a little childish, doing something so terribly cheesy so publicly, but nobody around you had minded, and while the glimmer in Gerard’s eyes had made the burn on your cheeks all the worse, the sight was definitely worth the slight embarrassment. What made it even stranger was that while yes, you were on a date together, and not the first one either, you were not really dating yet. At least you didn’t think you were.

Gerard had always been rather held back, and when he had not kissed you after a handful of dates, had barely managed to ask to take your hand, you had not been sure if he was even as interested in you as you were in him. But he had kept asking you out, always making sure to arrange the next meeting before the end of the current one, as if to leave no doubt that he wanted to keep seeing you.

A few dates ago you had carefully tried to ask him about it, when he had drawn back as you had slightly leant in, hoping he would let you kiss him. He had been a blushing stuttering mess, but the message had come across: he was shy and wanted to take things slowly. Which you were more than okay with. Only that you were not sure how slow “slowly” was. By now he had no problem holding your hand or feeding you sweets, but sometimes, whenever his eyes flickered to your lips, his cheeks would turn an adorable pink and he would avert his eyes.

Now his fingers clutched around yours once more as he struggled to keep his balance on the ice.

“This was a really bad idea,” he stated, a mixture of a chuckle and a whine, as he held out his free arm, trying to stabilise himself.

“Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine,” you assured him with a grin, squeezing his hand shorty. “Besides, it wasn’t me who suggested it.”

“I thought it would be romantic, but this is just embarrassing,” Gerard whined, almost punching an elderly lady, who skated by, as he flared around his arm, before breaking into a string of excuses to the lady who had not even noticed.

For a moment you blinked in surprise at his words. He had wanted this to be romantic. Yes, of course this was a date, but you had not even considered that he was making an active effort to make this romantic. For you.

“Okay, okay, stop. Calm down,” you snapped back into the moment, realising how hard Gerard was fighting to stay upright. Quickly you skated in front of him, turning so you were skating backwards, and taking hold of both his hands. “Try bending your knees, and don’t lean forwards so far,” you recommended.

Gerard followed your advice surprisingly well, which quickly stopped his swaying.

“See? You’re doing amazing!”

“How can you say that? I’m making a complete fool of myself,” he rolled his eyes. You could see how hard he was concentrating on keeping his balance, while following your instructions, and it almost made you laugh. Which would have been unfair, since you had started out way worse than him the first time you had ice skated.

“You’re not, trust me, Gee,” you smiled, squeezing his hands reassuringly. “Do you want to take a break?”

At his relieved nod, you looked over your shoulder and stirred him over to the barrier, intending for him grab onto the reel besides you, but he seemed to have gotten enough skill with which way he wanted to go, because instead of bumping against the barrier at your side, he caught you trapped between it and himself, holding onto the edge with hands at both of your sides. Surprised you looked at him, finding he was looking at you already, his eyes shimmering with an intensity you had not yet seen with him.

“Can I kiss you?”

His question took you aback, but the jump your heart made at his question was undeniable. The lights of the Christmas tree behind your back reflected in Gerard’s eyes, which were, for the first time, unashamedly fixed on your lips.

Quickly you nodded, uncertain whether you could phrase any words right now. But your nod seemed to be good enough for Gerard and secretly you were glad he did not tease you for your lack of words.

Instead his lips met yours, cold from the freezing winter air, but with his warmth quickly melting through. His kiss was soft, but full of emotion as his chapped lips moved carefully against yours. You felt him shiver when you placed a hand at his waist while he held onto the barrier behind you with both hands, just pulling himself a little closer so his body was flush against yours. Through the thick jackets you could even feel his chest expanding with each shaky breath he took and then released to fan warmly over your cheeks.

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” he whispered after he had pulled away from the kiss, barely far enough to properly see his face.

Blinking up at him, you smiled softly. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead that poked out from underneath his beanie.

“But it’s-“

“Nothing, you hear me?” Quickly you pressed another kiss to his lips, this time to the corner of his mouth, making him smile and look up at you from underneath his lashes. It made you want to kiss him all over again, all over his face, peppering every inch you could reach, but you resisted the urge, and just smiled back as he took a shaky breath.

“Okay,” he decided. “I think I’m ready to try again.”

Carefully he let go of the reeling.

“We don’t have to, you know,” you reminded him. “If you’d rather get off the ice we can do that too.”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I want to learn. And I get a good excuse to hold your hand.”

Following his words, he took your right hand into his left.

“You don’t need an excuse to do that,” you giggled, but closed your fingers around his.

“I know. But still. Besides, I was kind of hoping-“

He stopped himself, before he had finished the sentence, a new blush burning on his cheeks.

“What were you hoping for,” you asked curiously, studying his embarrassed face more closely as you pulled away from the reeling. How could anyone look so devastatingly pretty?

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, not daring to meet your amused eyes, as he carefully followed you back in line with the few people who were still doing rounds. “I mean… there is still the possibility of both of us falling and us accidentally kissing.”

His words were quiet, but stunned you for a third time that night. When you saw him glance at you, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“That can be arranged, you know?”

Taglist:

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

#gerard way x reader #can be read as any gender #christmas calendar #advent calendar #christmas alphabeth #winter alphabet #gerard way x reader fanfiction #gerard way x reader imagine #gerard way x reader fanfic #gerard way x reader fluff #gerard way x reader imagines #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance imagine #my chemical romance imagines #my chem fanfiction #my chem fanfic #my chem imagine #my chem imagines #mcr imagine #mcr imagines #mcr fanfiction #mcr fanfic #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way x you #my chemical romance x you #my chem x reader #my chem x you #mcr x reader #mcr x you

[anystalker707]

Bitter little nothings

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader Genre: Angst/Comfort Word count: 1 100 Summary: Gerard and (y/n) are... something.

A/n: not proofread, and just a little something I wanted to write <3

There was something different in the air that turned everything different on days like that—maybe it was my brain playing pranks on me, but even breathing is a little difficult and I just can’t keep up with everyone else’s good humor. Ray already knew that, offering me a gentle smile when I opened the door to the band room and stood in the doorway for a little, shaking the excessive water off the umbrella so I could leave it on the rack along with the other ones. My bag and my coat also got wet, though not too much, but nothing that some time hanging from the empty chair in the corner wouldn’t solve until it was time to leave.

“So,” I exhaled, moving to grab the free guitar from the corner, “I— Good afternoon, I mean. What you playing today?”

Gerard cleaned his throat, his hand that wasn’t busy holding a plastic bottle of water skipping through the pages of his messy notebook. “Practicing Venom, Skylines and Sorrows for today. Sorry for calling you again and at the last moment, but these songs really need something else with the guitars to make it work, and since Frank isn’t here all the time...”

“You should make part of the band already,” Mikey commented with a cough and fixing his glasses. He was almost out of my sight, somewhere still enough to see his slender figure holding his bass with all the power and plenitude in the world.

“You know I wouldn’t work for that.” I blinked, stepping back to the amp and pedals to check if everything was at least minimally fixed. “You know that. And taking Frank’s place wouldn’t be nice.”

Ray hummed, ducking his head. “A band can work with three guitars.”

“It works better with a drummer as well.” I pressed my lips together for a moment. That sounded unnecessarily rude. “I’ll tell you if that friend of mine is available.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Gerard nodded. “But do think about our offer.”

I remained in silence because as much as they knew me a lot, there were layers of myself I would like to keep to myself for as long as possible. Playing with them was fun and I was good at it, but it worked for me only as long as it was exactly that—for fun. The moment it turned into something serious, a responsibility, my brain would collapse, and I didn’t want Gerard to see me in such a state. And why him? Well, Gerard was... Gerard.

Some words were shared before the first distorted notes started echoing through the room, primarily coming from Ray’s guitar, soon followed by Mikey’s bass then my own guitar’s.

They weren’t not changing much on the song’s structure that day—they only did that when I wasn’t playing so Frank could keep up with everything and also share his ideas—, so it was swift. Witnessing everything coming together into something beautiful just out of their minds brought me some sort of comfort along with a warm sparkle in my chest that did intensify whenever my eyes lingered over Gerard. Each of his movements carried such a dedication that spreads to everyone else, though not at the same level. It was like his life depended on it; a free fall he dared to take, but kept taking false steps around the edge of the cliff. Of course, he’d eventually fall into it; My Chemical Romance would turn into something great even if he didn’t see it yet. And I wished I’d be there for them.

The last note of Skylines echoed through the room, followed by cheers and claps of high-fives before we were setting our instruments aside and reaching for bottles of water or stepping outside. I mean, only I went outside at first, just to soon be followed by Gerard, who’d have a cig between his middle and pointer fingers already if it weren’t for the warnings he received from everyone. You could notice how the lack of it bothered him by the way he took an irregular deep breath, not knowing what to do with his hands until he finally tucked them behind his back then leaned against the wall.

Just his presence was enough to make my chest warmer, something extremely unusual. Sometimes I wished Gerard wouldn’t always be so sympathetic and attract everyone—otherwise, I would be clinging to his side already despite how humiliating and out of character it would look for me—instead, no, I had to keep this one–foot distance from him with a repressed awkwardness just so no one would know what was going on between us in case they walked out. Not like his whole family and Frank didn’t witness us coming out of his bedroom the morning after the halloween party at his house, both of us with messy hair and necks covered in purple marks.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore,” Gerard mumbled, voice merely louder than the sound of the rain soaking the ground. The back door of the band practice room opened to a beautiful space, with a little clearing before the woods took over.

The words hit me like thunder struck something over the hills, flashing a white light before everything for less than a second. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to react. Not in front of him. Was he crazy?

“Explain.” I deserved an explanation, after so long longing for him.

“I...” He breathed, and fell silent for a moment. I wondered what was going on through his head. He was a difficult person to read. “Things are weird. It’s good for you, but I don’t know whether it’s good for me or not.”

“Why would it be bad for you?” The words escaped my lips before I could even think about it as my eyebrows knitted together. This couldn’t be happening.

Gerard didn’t answer immediately—of course, there was tension and doubt lingering his words and his movements, as small as they were, because there was no reason for him to dismiss me like this after everything that had happened. It wasn’t just about him sleeping with me, it went further to paying for my lunch, holding my hand, keeping my clothes. Something else laced his thoughts, and it probably was the goddamn insecurity again whispering bitter nothings in his mind.

“Don’t think things like that,” I breathed in defeat. “Give it longer. We don’t have to rush anything or compromise with anything yet. It’s just... us, and maybe we should enjoy it while it lasts.”

There was no answer. Only the sound of the rain falling heavier over the roof above us and against the ground filled our ears before a cold breeze hit us. I wanted to go inside, but it wasn’t an option while things still weren’t solved with Gerard, even if I hopelessly believed it all ended there, making something bitter and sharp twist in my chest. It didn’t last long though—neither did the cold—, with Gerard’s warm and soft lips suddenly meeting mine for a peace–making kiss.

_______________________

tagging list: @trans-ylvania | @newgirlinhell

#fan fiction #fan fic #mcr #writing #gerard way #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #gerard way x reader #mcr x reader #mcr oneshot #oneshot #mcr imagine #imagine #my chemical romance #bandom

[mychemicalparagraph]

"FRANK! HELP ME! THEIR TEENAGE A** IS TRYING TO F*** ME!"

"I CAN'T! THEY ARE TRYING TO STEAL MY GUITAR!!!"

#mcr #my chemical romance #gerard way #my chem #shitpost #mcr gerard #my chemical fucking romance #my chem memes #my chem frank #my chemical frank #frank iero #dialouge #shit dialogue #mcr imagine #teenagers #guitar #electronic guitar #pop punk #rock music #alternative #alternative rock #fans #concert #2000's music #Tumblr might delete this

[mcrimagines]

Imagine: Michael Romance let's you wear his Joy Division shirt ...... it's stiff... so romance!

#mikey way #mikey way x reader #mcr imagine #mcr #my chemical romance #my chem imagines #mikey way imagine

[wamscoastsmokerrr]

no but seriously imagine it:

You’re seeing fall out boy at the wwwy festival 2024. Everyone is having a great time. Fall out boy seem a little excited. “We have a surprise for you guys.” Patrick says. All of a sudden Cobra Starship comes out and start singing “the kids are all fucked up.” When Gabe gets to the chorus, someone else starts singing…
“When I was a young boy my father took me into the city to see a marching band.”
Lights flash everywhere, and you see FOB singing “the kids are all fucked up” along with Cobra Starship, while MCR is singing “Black parade”. Everyone in the crowd is going wild and crying. Then if things couldn’t get any better, Dan and Phil walk onto stage and kiss, holding the gay flag.

#back at it again #lmao #no but seriously imagine it #…… #fall out boy #my chemical romance #cobra starship #fob #mcr #patrick stump #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley #gerard way #mikey way #ray toro #frank iero #gabe saporta #alex suarez #ryland blackinton #nate novarro #victoria asher #dan and phil #daniel howell #phil lester #when we were young fest #when we were young 2024 #wwwy fest #wwwy 2024 #shitposting

[offonmyown]

i’m sorry but I just cannot get over the fact that gerard arthur way decided to pull a bait and switch like “hmmhaw for the first few shows I will be Normal :)” and dress as Just Some Guy before doing a full 180 and pulling out his normal theatrical BS like we all know and love while the other three are just on stage like “yeah just another thursday” and we’re just going feral over it like. yeah. that’s our gerard.

#gerard way #mcr #my chemical romance #hard not to buy into the theory that something new will be dropping by midnight #imagine it tho #they finish at MK around 11pm and finish the setlist with a new song that they say will drop at midnight