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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 1 year

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Question - Ray Toro x Reader

Prompt: Q: Question (How do they confess? Is it the big question, or something smaller but just as intimate?)(from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Word count: 2 138

Tiredly you ran your hand over your face. The brightness of the computer screen was already tuned to the lowest setting, you had a small lamp burning in the background and most of the software’s design was dark anyway, but still your eyes hurt terribly. A glance at the clock confirmed your suspicion that it was not only the screen brightness that hurt your eyes, but also the amount of time you had spent staring it at.

You had been here since the early morning, only doing a lunch break around noon, and a coffee break around five, when the band had left. My Chem was working on another album and as their trusted assistant they had asked you to help with… well basically everything. Before ever having worked with them you had gathered experience with mixing and producing music, tour booking, promotion and and and, although most of it had been for smaller, local bands.

It had been Ray who had suggested you should be given more freedom in the things you wanted to work at for them. So after having spent the entire day in their company, helping them mix the tracks, you had settled back into your small office in the production company, beginning with the design for the covers. The cover art had been chosen weeks ago, but now title, band name and all the writing needed to be added. It was as much fun as it was nerve wracking.

Just when you had finished adding one text, and zoomed out, you found it looked awful and went back to changing everything again. But now, at almost 2am, you were ready to give up. At least for now. Anything you changed now, was just likely to look awful tomorrow- well, later today.

Saving the current file under a new name, you turned off the computer and grabbed your jacket from the hanger next to the door, before turning the small lamp in the corner off as well.

The lights in the corridor outside flickered to life as you left the office, blinding you momentarily. Groaning at the brightness, you blinked, trying to get used to the lights as well as trying to get rid of the tiredness so you could drive home.

Ray would absolutely give you shit for staying so late at the office again. He always told you, you needed to take better care of yourself, and every time he did, you ignored the fluttering in your chest, instead arguing that you worked best this way, just like he would sometimes not step out of his office for three days straight.

It was a recurring pattern: both of you working without proper breaks and the other getting protective, reminding each other how important breaks were. At the same time, you both understood that you had these creative phases in which you had to work lest you wanted to go mad. But that rational understanding did not mean your heart did not flutter every time Ray reminded you to take good care of yourself.

It was all too easy to imagine he had some personal interest in you being well, even when you knew that in reality he just needed you to be healthy so you could work for the band as effectively as possible. Besides: why should someone like him take interest in you? You were the person in the background. Best case scenario? Nobody noticed you were even there. That meant you had done your job flawlessly. That the band constantly noticed you and tried to involve you in their work was a bigger compliment than you felt you deserved. But Ray was still the guitarist of one of the biggest bands currently around, loved by fans and worshipped by critics. He was certainly one of the kindest men you had ever met, not to mention one of the most talented and most hard working as well. Even if he were looking for a relationship, he most certainly would not look for it with you.

Still you could not blame yourself for falling for him. Anyone with at least a half-way decent taste in men would. And now that winter had wrapped its cold, dark fingers around the city, you just could not help but secretly dream about cuddling into Ray’s side and holding his hand. He always looked so warm, with his long hair, his soft eyes, his gentle smile. He could be the biggest goof, the craziest little nerd you had ever met, but his rambles were endearing and his jokes always made you laugh without fail.

Tiredly, lost in thoughts about Ray and about how much you wanted him to like you back, you shuffled to the back door of the studio. You had your hand already on the handle, when suddenly you perked up. From one of the control rooms faint music sounded out into the corridor. Irritated, you stopped. You had been absolutely certain you were the last one in the building, after all it was in the middle of the night. Walking back, you tried to identify the room the music sounded from, and stopped in front of one of the control rooms. The ‘recording’-light was turned off, so you listened to the gentle plucking of guitar strings for a moment before you pressed down the handle of the door and pushed the door open just far enough to poke your head in.

In the dim, orange light of a small reading lamp, you were able to make out a man sitting on the floor, long, curly hair reaching past his shoulders, guitar in his lap.

At the sound of the door opening, he stopped and turned around.

“I thought you had gone home with the others,” you inquired, raising your eyebrows at Ray.

“I did…” he confessed, unfolding his long legs, and getting up from where he had been sitting. “And then I couldn’t stop thinking so I came back.”

“I heard you play something new,” you noted. “Are you planning to add onto the new album?”

“Not really… it’s just something I’ve had stuck in my head for a long time,” Ray rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, holding his guitar in the other. “I wanted to get it out of my system before I forget it.”

You were burning to know what he had been working on, but if the past years of working with him had taught you anything, it was that he shared his music once he was ready to do so. Anything before that usually ended up making him feel incredibly uncomfortable, and you were more than happy to respect his boundaries.

“Well, in that case…” you trailed off. “Just don’t stay too long. Even you need a few hours of sleep every now and then. Good night Ray.”

You were already back out of the room, the door almost closed when he suddenly called for you.

Confused, you stopped and pushed the door back open, raising your eyebrows at him.

“What’s up?”

“I-“

Ray stared at you wide eyed, his left foot tapping a quick, even rhythm, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the neck of the guitar; safe signs that he was stressed and nervous. You hated when he did that. Not because it annoyed you, but because it made you feel so helpless. In these moments there was nothing you could do to help him feel less nervous, and right now you seemed to be the cause of his nervousness.

Tilting your head at him inquisitively, you encouraged him wordlessly to keep talking. He swallowed thickly before speaking again.

“I- it’s just… I don’t really know how to say it.”

“Whatever it is, you know you can be honest with me. I promise you that I won’t be mad, okay? You can just say it. I don’t need fancy words.”

“It’s not something you’ve done,” sighed Ray, averting his eyes for a moment, before looking back up to you. “No fancy words needed?”

“No fancy words needed,” you reaffirmed.

“I like you. To be honest, I’ve liked you for so long I don’t even know how long anymore. And I don’t think it’s just liking either. It’s so much more and so much stronger than that.”

Completely dumbfounded you stared at Ray. The light behind his back lit up his hair like a halo and the white light falling in from the corridor made it look like he was standing in a spotlight.

“I thought I was good at hiding it, but the other day the guys said they’d known for ages too, and that I should just be honest with you, so here’s me being honest. If it makes things weird, I’m sorry, but I think there’s not much use in hiding it anymore. You probably already knew either way.”

“I- I didn’t. Didn’t know, I mean,” you answered, once Ray had stopped speaking, making him groan quietly as if he regretted his confession already. “But it doesn’t have to make things weird.”

Quickly you fully stepped into the small room, closing the door to the corridor behind you, shutting out the cold, white lights.

“I like you, too,” you clarified. “I just never thought you’d feel remotely the same.”

Ray groaned again. “I thought you knew and were trying to discreetly tell me you’re not interested.”

“You mean I wasn’t painfully obvious about my feelings for- wait. Ray, hold on. You thought I wasn’t interested in you and still straight up just- confessed?”

Your heart ached at the thought. How much courage had it taken him to do that?

“Yeah, I mean… I needed to be sure, once and for all,” he admitted, still awkwardly clenching and unclenching his fingers around the guitar neck.

“I’m glad you did…”

For a moment both of you stood facing each other, not really sure what to do or say now that your feelings had been revealed.

“Uhm, I know this might seem a bit useless since you already know how I feel for you but uhm… I’d really like to take you out some time, for dinner or something. Or like… I don’t know. It’s silly,” Ray stuttered. He barely ever stuttered, which just proved that he was still terribly nervous.

“It’s not silly, and I’d love to,” you quickly answered, glad he had been the first one to ask.

“Really,” Ray smiled happily at you. “When- when would you like to?”

You shrugged, glancing around the room.

“I don’t know… are you gonna stay here for a while and play or are you going to go home soon?”

“I was about to head out… What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I’ve waited a very long time to go out with you and don’t really want to wait a few days just because society thinks meaningful dates have to be at 8pm. And that there’s a diner that’s open 24/7 just around the corner…”

Ray’s grin grew wider, and quickly he placed the guitar in its stand.

“I’ll just grab my jacket,” he told you, heading towards the door in front of which you were still standing.

Stopping right in front of you, he looked at you for a moment, before he quickly leant over and pressed a short peck to the corner of your lips. His warm skin on yours, his chapped lips, both rough and soft at the same time, made your heart rate spike and heat shoot to your cheeks, the spot where he had touched you tingling.

“Thank you,” he whispered, before stepping around you and through the door into the corridor, where the white lights flickered to life once more.

“What for?” You called after him as he jogged towards the break room where he had left his jacket on a sofa.

“Accepting me.”

He shouted back over his shoulder, leaving you to furrow your brows in confusion.

You were afraid that whatever he had meant by that would need some discussion in the future. After all, you knew how insecure he could be at times and if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that he never would have to be or should be insecure about your feelings for him.

You had barely finished the thought, when Ray already reappeared, fighting to slip into his jacket. By the time he had reached you, he had managed to tuck both sleeves over his wrists, and zip the jacket closed.

“Let’s go,” he decided, surprising you by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. Shyly you closed your fingers around his bigger hand and smiled to yourself. When Ray saw your expression, he chuckled. “Trust me, when I tell you you’re not the only one who has waited far too long for this.”

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

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controld3vil · 14 days

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two psychopaths

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader (can be read as ambiguous/platonic/romantic, WHATEVER YOU GUYS PREFER)

synopsis: requested by this ask and this!

alt: regardless of you two playing psychopaths, in reality, you were the sweetest human beings ever.

notes: i applaud austin butler for his performance omg!! dually noted that the reader has hair that is long enough to be put into a ponytail (they are showing off a cute hair tie they got). NO BETE READ i apologize !!

You should have expected something. If not for your past antics, there would be no reason for them to be here. It was touching really, playing against your own tactics.

Without delay, in the morning, you were going to buy breakfast. When you decided and reluctantly remembered your cast members were going to have an interview around the same area. The building was close by, a block from the café shop. And so you rushed across the street, with a butter croissant in one hand, and a hot drink in another.

"Boo!" As you had snuck behind, grabbing both of their shoulders together in a tight squeeze. You could feel Timothee Chalamet's body jump while Austin Butler feeling startled, and involuntarily jerked back to swat your hand.

"Hey!"

"Oh my gosh, you scared me!"

"That was the point!" Your snickering was quickly joined by the film crew behind the scenes. It was all caught on camera and gave a great spook for everyone on set. You could still feel your heartbeat pumping as you tightened your grip on both of their shoulders.

"They really got you two!" The host of Comicbook.com and interviewer Brandon Davis exclaimed, covering his mouth with his fist. You were glad he and the rest of the crew obligated you to sneak in, a few minutes before their interview. Your eyes followed behind the movie poster to the corner, where you had laid your breakfast. Making sure nothing slipped or stomped on.

"Now we're really gonna get you next time!" Timothee's voice brought your attention back to him. Your grip never leaves his side, as he holds onto it as if threatening you.

"I'd like to see you two try," Nodding as you sneered. To add more to the competition, you gave a shaky handshake without breaking eye contact.

On the other hand, Austin could only lean back in his chair with an amused grin. "I thought you also had an interview today?" Tapping your hand on his shoulder, casually not minding your invasion of his personal space.

Your attention shifts, and you smile sweetly. "Mine is after lunch so I still got time." Lowering your tone, playfully mimicking Austin's voice. "I'll see you guys later though, enjoy your interview!"

As you release your grip to pat their heads, Timothee swerves to wave goodbye. Almost hitting himself in the face with your hand. "Alright- whoa see ya!". In an instant, Austin gives you a look before patting his seatmate on the back.

You grabbed your belongings, then thanked everyone walking out. Brandon Davis looked even more ecstatic now, knowing the actor's moods were lifted, looking a lot happier and pumped.

"Well what a great start to our interview huh?"

"Hm?"

"Oh yeah, the best!"

In turn, a couple hours after, you and Josh Brolin had been seated for the start of your interview. It was arranged by Maude Garrett, with whom you had talks with Jessica Ferguson before. Meeting her again was a pleasant encounter. You had a fantastic time with her last time and believed it would be no different with Brolin by your side.

"Hey!" She squeals out your name, hands in the air. "I'm so happy to see you again!"

"I came back just for you," Clutching her hand, you wave it back and forth. You were gleaming with joy as you seated yourself next to Brolin, who gave you a confused smile.

"You two know each other?"

"Oh no no-"

"I did an interview with her and Jessica," you clarified before glancing at Maude, "She's really nice!"

"So that's why you wanted to come along?" Josh exasperates a sarcastic groan. "Do you not want to do interviews with me?"

The humorous banter does not diminish throughout the interview. No, having worked with Josh Brolin through Dune, you were always attentive to his words. You can tell how passionate he is to be a part of Dune. The way he's communicated with Villeneuve and the producers, made you appreciate him more. Even before the interview had started, Brolin had brought up a book he had been working on with Greig Frazer of the photography of Dune.

You knew it was a fun project for him and he even gifted you one of the first few copies before release.

"Do you think Duncan Idaho is going to be a big part of Part 3?" Brolin and Garrett were having a conversation about potential possibilities for the Dune universe. As it was a well-known fact for book readers, more complex characters and plotlines divert after the first novel.

While you sat patiently, only ever observant of of their interaction. "I mean, I love-"

Suddenly there were screams. Boom! Your eyes lit up as if a sudden alarm had gone off. It was then two bodies came crashing towards you to notice what was happening. The two young male actors hurdled over you and Josh Brolin in a frenzy, surrounding you all in a big bear hug. You could decipher your mentor's frightful yet affectionate grin.

"Oh my gosh!" You almost shrieked, hand instinctively placing over your heart in reassurance. Timothee stood by Brolin's side, shaking him side by side. While Austin held onto yours, having the time of his life at your expression. You could tell already that cameras were caught yours and Brolin's slow-mo reaction.

"What's going on?!"

Mumbles of excitement were scattered on the scene. You could not stop smiling, as you placed your hand on top of Austin's, looking at him in pure defeat and fondness. As if saying, you got me.

"Thank you, god!" Josh happily cries out, bowing his head pure of joy.

Eventually, the Elvis actor lets go and formally greets the interviewer, shaking her hand. "Hi, I'm Maude! Nice to meet you!"

"Is this the interviewer you were talking to me about?" Austin looks at you, questionably. "The one asking about the popcorn bucket?"

You nod, enthusiastically. "She is! Maude, I was raving about you!"

"Awh!" The blonde female places a hand over her heart, warmly. She pouts lovingly at your comment. "How sweet of you!"

On the other side, Timothee grins back at Brolin before saying his hellos to you. "Hey, how are you?"

"I literally saw you hours ago!" You pointed your index finger directly at him, scoldingly. However, in return, the French actor laughs, and before hearing Austin turning to Brolin.

"We got the books."

"We got them and you got to sign it." Timothee states, placing both his hands on Brolin.

"Ok!" Suddenly the shot pans to you, having your mouth wide open.

"We'll bring em'- Give me a little- give me a little personal message-"

"I love you guys!" The older actor bellows, opening his arms for all of you three to join in one last hug. Seconds after, Brolin pats his French costar adorably on the back as a farewell. "I love you! Get outta here!"

The camera pans to Timothee moving towards your seat. As you discreetly mumble, making puppy dog eyes. "I get to sign too, right?!" He only chuckles before softly punching your shoulder as a gesture of approval.

"We got you good this time!" The French costar makes finger guns, playfully shooting at you in victory. You couldn't help but blow a raspberry in denial.

"I didn't know you guys were gonna do it today!"

"That was the whole point!" Austin chastely pats the back of your seat, gliding his hand to connect with yours to shake.

Sometime after your encounter, you and Austin managed to meet again in Los Angeles. It was when the Associated Press wanted to have you two for an interview with their AP film writer, Lindsey Bahr, to speak on topics that would pertain to both of your characters. You, coming back from the first film, with a new profound experience. Upon his introduction, Austin's character, Feyd-Rautha, is portrayed as a calculating and highly skilled warrior in Harkonnen's fashionable way.

You couldn't wait, as you sped into the boardroom where the interview was taking place. Lindsey Bahr beside the camera, was casually chatting with Austin as the rest of the crew prepared for the shoot.

The two of you gave each other a quick hug before taking your seats to get comfortable.

"Oh look what I got from New York!" Your head spins clockwise to show the back of your head, only to confuse Austin and the rest of the crew profoundly. This was a small snippet the Associated Press wanted to keep in the interview. They believed it was a great preview promoter to display your and Austin's relationship with each other.

"What is it? What are you showing us?" The blonde-brunette male puts forward, as the camera zooms in on him inspecting you dumbfounded. It pans to you grabbing your hair tie before turning back to face the audience.

Your hair once slicked by its restraint is now free and lies on your shoulders. It doesn't fall evenly on you though, but almost awkwardly due to the gel in your locks.

"Look at this!" You show it to the camera with a hand holding the item. And another, palm up to allow better focus. It was a character plush hair tie. One of a loveable cookie with one eyebrow raised. It even had one big tooth sticking out. "Isn't it cute?"

"It's adorable!" Linsey says with a smile. Your grin was contagious as she admired your high enthusiasm for the small accessory. "Where did you find it in New York?"

"In a BTS store," you pierced your lips together, thumbs smoothing over the face of the plushie. "I was looking for a gift for my cousin. And then I saw a bunch of displays of these!"

"I like his little expression," Austin perks up, arms relaxing on the armrest. Though his posture was leaning to look at the cute ornament in your hands. "He looks questionable intrigued."

"He is," You agree, locking eyes with him. "He kind of looks like me, yeah?"

Your costar charmingly laughs, as you lift the cookie next to your face. You did your best to mimic its expression, trying not to break. "He kind of does actually," Before leaning to push away some strands of your hair behind your shoulder.

And the interview commenced smoothly. It did not feel one-sided or exclusive from one person. You and Austin were able to enjoy yourselves, talking and reliving the moments you had onscreen. You barely had any scenes together, in fact, both of your characters were across planets from each other by the time the climax of the film began. Though it had mostly focused on Paul's and Feyd's rivalry for the throne even then. Little was known about your characters together despite having fair similarities in combat, and personality.

Then there was a question that came up from Bahr, asking if you all, specifically the younger casts spent time together after filming or stayed in your hotel rooms.

Austin decided to step in and respond. "I mean we had some dinners- when we got hungry."

"I'd say both. I mean it was rare for the five of us to be together because of our production schedules." You say, scratching your arm upwards. Out of your peripherals, you could see Austin nod in correspondence. "Otherwise, most people were really beaten up. I mean- I think me, Florence, Timothee, Zendaya, and Austin are the tamest bunch you know? Dinner was the latest school night we had."

"Right, we'd be so tired," Your male costar snickers, covering his smile with his hand.

Then it was like a light bulb flashes above your head when your eyes flash in revelation. "We did like to go shopping a lot together."

"Really? How was that like?"

"A lot of hours, that's for sure." Austin crosses his arms, exhaling a long groan. Only for you to have a guilty pout, shyly backing up in your chair. Even you did not deny his claims. "I mean- with them, all of the bags get piled onto me."

"I try to spend less every time I go shopping with him," You wave your arms defensively. With an amused smile, the Elvis actor could only want to listen to more, back fully leaning on his chair. "Though me and Zendaya love to go shopping all the time."

"It must've been a hectic shopping spree!"

"The most hectic," Your costar spouts a satirical groan as you dismissively smile and shake your head.

And most of all, you were fortunate enough to be invited to Graham Norton's show alongside Josh Brolin and Austin Butler. Coincidently other stars such as Olivia Coleman and Jodie Foster were present which made you more instantly excited. It was a row stacked with amazing actors and actresses. Even you, who have been considered in a few films were more than ecstatic to meet every one of them.

It took some time into the interview when Norton brought up Dune. As he went down the line of people, Austin was the last person on the couch yet to be asked a question. You were sitting beside Josh and Jodie Foster, whom you eagerly met backstage only minutes prior when you all went onstage. It was all nerve-wracking from the start. However, the longer you sat and talked, the more comfortable you became with the people you so charismatically looked up upon.

"Now Austin," Graham raises his hand as he directs everyone's attention to the TV screen, "Now what the fuck happened to you?" Then a still image of him in all costume as Feyd Rautha appears. Leading the audience to laugh and even a few chuckles from the couch. Graham's straightforwardness too caught you offhand as you cough not so subtly in the background.

Waves of ohs and awes rippled from person to person.

"Did you- did you know- yes that's Austin!"

"By the way- that's how I met him the first time because everyone said if you met Austin- Oh you're gonna love Austin," Brolin starts, one arm leaning against the back of the couch. "And then finally, I knocked on his trailer door- and I opened the door to this pasty bald emaciated thing." More laughter erupts as you sweetly grin at the faint memory of their meeting.

"But you didn't shave your head?"

"I was- I was going straight to another film and uh- called The Bike Riders with Tom Hardy and Jeff Nickels who was directing," Austin explains the director specifically asked him not to shave his head. As it would be difficult to grow back quickly and transition from Dune. "So the wonderful hair and makeup team did that to me." As he points back to the picture of him and Lea Seydoux.

"Wow!"

"That's a bald wig!"

"Yeah isn't it incredible?" The Elvis actor gleams back at Olivia and then to you. You give him a wider grin, cocking your head sideways until the attention is drawn back to Graham.

"And also, it's not just- it doesn't- where does it start?"

"It attaches where my eyelids are," He points and the rest of the actresses could only stare in astonishment.

"Whoa, you didn't have to shave your eyebrows either."

"That's- wow!"

"But it's incredibly meticulous if they're a millimeter off, you can't open one eye and uhm- so yeah they were incredible." He explains, pointing closely to his eyelids to make a better visualization of how detailed his look was for the crew. Truly it was an astonishing character design, and to have Austin fill in those shoes was a great casting choice. You couldn't think of anyone else to play Feyd.

"Was it like an hour?" Jodie brings up, having one hand on her chin innocently.

"It was three hours." Disappointed grunts and groans came from the two women beside you. It was as if the moment he mentioned how long it took, all the enthusiasm to try bald wigs was out of the table. It was hilarious, both Olivia and Foster looking back and avoiding eye contact with anyone. Seated next to them, you followed along, shaking your head so slightly, staring at them as if saying, really?!

"Shave my head!" Graham shouts and yelps agreeing to his holler followed the room. Seconds after the noise disperse, the host turns his eyes on you. He brings your attention, saying your name in confidence. "And uh- here's the thing, you had the complete opposite! People have said that you had to grow out your hair- either or have extensions to have longer hair."

"Absolutely the complete opposite for me," You cheerily perk up, saluting your drink to Norton. The audience snickers, followed by Brolin bursting out in a howl. "But- yes I would say I had to grow out my hair for this film. To the point where I had many intricate braids in my hair."

"It must've been so nice," Josh chides, almost too enthusiastically. He crosses his arms and you give him a look of caution, playfully so.

"Yeah luckily you didn't have to deal with all of my mess," Austin motions to his hair, and immediately you let out a whistle. Again the back of the crowd responds well to your banter. Everything went so smoothly whenever you were with your cast mates. You were the most comfortable with them.

"Very very true!" Norton points his flashcards to you, "Would you have shaved your head if you- two had switched roles?"

"Honestly why not," Shrugging, you could hear some murmurs of surprise and intrigue. "I feel like I would be very comfortable with the bald wig too. But I mean if I cut all of my hair, I wouldn't have to grow them out anymore."

There was a semblance of mutuality while some still expressed their preferences (Olivia and Jane). Though what was most prominent to you was Broliin balling his eyes out. While Austin looks at you in pure confusion and stupefaction.

"All that to not grow out your hair?!" Josh exclaims, and the shot perfectly catches him clenching his chest from how much he was cackling at your odd comment.

"I mean that's one way to do it," Austin had a much slower reaction as it seemed at that moment made you break. Only to have you glance down at your shoes because of how much you wanted to laugh uncontrollably.

"I think it'd be cool no?" You try to say, slowly breaking into laughter. The rest of the crowd cooed at how you were with your costars. You always manage to include them in every conversation, showing how much care you had with everyone you had worked with. "I feel like the material of the bald wig would be super cool to touch."

"It's- it's a latex-"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Graham hushes, one hand shielding his mouth even though everyone can hear what he is saying. A huge wave of roars and screams echoed. And all you could do was cover your face and hide behind Brolin.

Yet the most unforgettable moment that would define your relationship with Austin is not even with the two of you present. In fact, it was in an interview with him,with Timothee and Zendaya. During that time, you were paired with someone else. But it was a small mention of Austin's first days of filming for Dune that kept viewers occupied.

"When you- fitting in with you know, coming into this group," It takes a few glances for Austin to look at his costars. "What did that feel like to you?"

Austin locks eyes with Zendaya then Timothee, "You both were so kind and welcoming and- uhm-"

"And we bullied him for the first week," The mixed actress casually mentions, as it can be heard off camera, sounds of agreement. "No, I'm kidding!"

"We had to break him in," The French actor nods, playing along to their scheme.

"Yeah, exactly exactly," The brunette actor goes even further with it, "Hazing rituals."

Zendaya raises her finger. She refers to you with such warmth. "It was more than hazing rituals. I mean- actually, they were doing crazy dance moves and-"

"They're just full of sunshine," Austin beans ear to ear, eyes only evident of fondness. "Super warm and welcoming."

Timothee cocks his head slightly to the side. "Welcome to Arrakis!"

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storiesforallfandoms · 10 months

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good girl ~ gerard way

word count: 2990

request?: yes!

“okayokayokay, hear me out, dads best friend! gerard x reader. you’re franks kid, going on tour with them, and yeah, that’s kinda all i have. current time, with a hint of thigh riding, smut with praise, kinda fluffy afterwards. you should look it up but gerard wore shorts on stage last night and holy shit, i’m dead. thank you so fuckin much!”

description: they said nothing was going to happen while she was on tour with them, that nothing could happen while she was on tour with them, but then he came out in those damn shorts

pairing: gerard way x female!iero!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (thigh riding, praise kink, unprotected sex), age gap (reader is in their 20s, gerard is 45), rpf (if you don’t like it, don’t read)

masterlist (one, two, three)

He knew what he was doing. There’s no way he didn’t. He knew I was joining them today, and he just so happened to come out in a pair of hot shorts showing off those thighs that I had gotten off on so many times before? After I told him we couldn’t do this while we were with my dad? Yeah, this was definitely on purpose.

“Are you listening to me, Squirt?” dad asked, nudging me out of my thoughts.

Shit, how long have I been staring? Has dad noticed?

“Yeah,” I lied.

“What did I say?”

“You called me Squirt.”

Dad chuckled and rolled his eyes. I smiled and tried not to look over at Gerard. He was talking to Mikey and their stage manager, turned side on from me. I glanced over for a split second, just in time to see he was already looking at me. He smirked and winked at me. My face grew hot and I quickly looked away.

We knew this was wrong. At least, I think we did. The first time it happened we said it was wrong. Gerard was dad’s friend, his bandmate. I was a little less than half his age. He had a kid, a kid I had babysat numerous times when I was a teenager. Everything about the situation was wrong. Dad would freak out if he knew, the public probably would, too. We swore the first time would be the only time.

But then he came over one night during the summer for dinner. I was wearing a sundress, he was in shorts and a tank top. Next thing I knew, he had me bent over the bathroom sink with my dress pushed up around my hips.

“One time” turned into “many times” and, eventually, we stopped saying that it was wrong out loud. But we did agree we wouldn’t be doing this while dad was around. No one could ever know, but especially not dad. Gerard didn’t want to put his friendship with dad or the band in jeopardy. when I agreed to go on tour with the band for a while, we had an agreement that there would be no funny business.

I guess that agreement wasn’t going to last long.

“Alright everyone, places in ten minutes,” the stage manager announced before leaving the room.

“Everyone, circle,” Mikey announced. The band moved together, putting their arms around each other and bowing their heads. Mikey looked over at me and nodded his head. “Come on, little Iero, you too.”

“This is a band ritual, though,” I said.

“You’re an honorary member for now,” dad said. “No arguing. Come on.”

He extended an arm to me. It felt like some cruel trick of fate that the one he had unconnected from, leaving a space for me to get between, was Gerard. I took a deep breath and moved in between them. Dad put his hand around my shoulder, but Gerard put his hand on my lower back. I prayed no one noticed my body stiffen as they started their usual pre-show speech.

When everyone pulled away to take their places, Gerard leaned into my ear to whisper, “Meet me at my room after the show.”

I felt a tingle run down my spine and between my legs.

I tried to focus only on the concert as I watched the band perform, but it was hard to keep my mind from wandering when Gerard was there, in those goddamn shorts, and now he was getting all hot and sweaty while performing. Near the end of the show, his long hair was was slick with sweat and sticking to his forehead. It felt like the show was dragging on for hours and it would never end. I wasn’t sure how I was going to stop myself from jumping his bones the second he walked off the stage.

The after show adrenaline backstage was just as hard to get through. The guys were all jittering withing adrenaline and excitement. I didn’t want to break up their fun, or to seem suspicious, but I was itching to get back to the hotel so I could go to Gerard’s room. I was standing with my thighs clenched together, feeling hot and sweaty as if I were the one who just performed. I was slightly embarrassed by how desperate I was feeling, but only slightly.

The drive back to the hotel was short. We all said goodnight to one another before heading to our respective hotel rooms. I listened to make sure I heard all three doors close, meaning dad, Mikey, and Ray wouldn’t see anything, before making a beeline for Gerard’s room. He was waiting for me at the door, immediately taking me into his arms and kissing me with a combination of passion and aggression. He fumbled with the room key while still kissing me, but finally managed to swipe it and open the door. He pulled me into the room and shoved me against the door once it shut again.

“I can’t believe you,” I muttered against his lips. “We said none of this while on tour.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I’m so addicted to you. I don’t think I can give you up.”

Gerard pressed his lips against mine again before I could say anything. His hands slipped under my shirt and pressed against my skin. I already felt hot, but his touch made me feel like I was on fire. I was gripping at his shirt, too, still damp from the sweat, when my fingers brushed over the waistband of his shorts.

“These fucking shorts,” I groaned between kisses.

Gerard smirked. “You like them, huh?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t do this on purpose. You knew how these shorts were going to make me feel.”

He pulled away, that damn smirk still on his face. He took my hand and pulled me further into the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding my hand in his. He was looking up at me with lust filled eyes, the look alone causing a new puddle to form in my panties.

“Take your pants off,” he told me. I did as he said, unbuttoning my jeans and letting them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. “Good girl.”

I almost whimpered. God, he knew what praise did to me.

“Now,” he patted on thigh, “climb on up here, princess.”

I got onto his lap, placing my legs on either side of his thigh so I was straddling it. He placed his hands on my hips and lowered me so my clothes core was directly on his thigh. I let out a whimper at the friction. I had been longing for any sort of contact for so long that just the faint brush of my panties against my clit sent tingles through my body and caused a louder moan to slip past my lips.

“Shh,” Gerard said. “We don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?”

I shook my head, biting my lip to hold in any other involuntary noises.

“Good girl,” he said again. He kissed me gently before saying, “Now, get off on my thigh like a good girl.”

I started moving my hips, letting the friction grow. Any noises I made came out muffled against my lips. If I was in a different state of mind, I’d probably feel a little pathetic in the situation - mewling on Gerard’s lap in desperation to get myself off. We weren’t even having sex yet and I was already a mess. But I only had one thing on my mind, one endgame to work towards.

I put my arms around his neck to ground myself as I continued to grind. His hands were still resting on my waist, but he wasn’t controlling my movements. He was letting me go at my own pace. He was watching me so intently, like I was the most beautiful art he had ever seen.

“You’re doing so good, babe,” he breathed. “You look so beautiful when you’re coming undone like that.”

I tried to say something in return, but it just came out as incoherent babbles. Gerard chuckled and pulled me in for another kiss. His tongue poked at my bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. I parted my lips and let his tongue explore my mouth. He swallowed my moans, which had become harder to control. I was nearing my climax quicker than I had anticipated. I wasn’t ready for it yet. I wanted this to go on for longer.

But Gerard knew I was close. His hands were now gripping my hips and moving me a little bit faster. Against my lips, he mumbled, “I want you to cum on my lap, pretty girl. Please cum on my lap.”

He forcefully kissed my lips as a scream of pleasure ripped through my throat without warning. My body trembled as my orgasm washed over me. How he made me feel so good with just his thigh, I would never know. He made me feel better than any man my age ever could.

I started to come down from my high as I realized I was being moved. Gerard was lifting me from his lap and gently placing me on the bed. He stood at the end and quickly removed his clothes. I did the same, ridding myself of my panties, shirt, and bra. We were both completely naked, just looking at one another. He always somehow made me feel both confident and insecure under his gaze. He looked at me with such hunger in his eyes that I wanted to let him have me however he wanted, but also I wanted to cover myself up. I always felt so many conflicting things when we were together.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over me. He lowered himself so his body was flush against mine, engulfing me with his heat. He kissed me again, feverishly. I could feel his dick, hard and throbbing, against my inner thigh, mere inches from where I wanted him most. My hips bucked involuntarily. His tip grazed my entrance, causing the two of us to moan together.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, running his dick between my folds. “You want this inside of you, good girl?”

“P-Please,” I begged. “Please, I need you inside of me. Need it so bad, need you so bad.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” He reached between us and lined himself up with my entrance. “Ask me one more time.”

“Please, Gerard. Please fuck me.”

With one thrust, he filled me completely. I gasped at the sensation, which was followed by another moan. He covered my mouth with his hand, suppressing the moan before it fully erupted out of me. He slowly pulled out of me until it was just the tip inside of me, then pushed all the way back in. I could feel every inch of him slowly pulling out and filling me up, dragging along my walls and pushing against my g-spot with every thrust inwards. The sore feeling I had from my recent orgasm quickly melted away into pleasure again.

Gerard buried his head in the crook of my neck, leaving kisses along my neck and shoulder between attempts to muffle his own groans and moans. My moans and whimpers came out muffled against his hand. He started to pick up the pace with his thrusts. With his body against mine, his pelvic bone was rubbing against my clit with every thrust. The combined stimulation of him rubbing against my clit and his dick abusing my g-spot had my lower stomach tightening again in no time. I had no way of telling him this time around that I was getting close, so I just had to let my orgasm wash over me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my body began to tremble again, screams of pleasure muffled, but just barely, against his hand.

He was whispering praises into my ear but I felt so far off that I could barley hear them. The only thing keeping me grounded and present was the feeling of my nails digging into his skin and his desperate thrusts, now becoming a little sloppier. It wasn’t long until I could feel him spilling inside of me. He bit down on my shoulder to try and keep himself quiet, undoubtably also leaving marks there. I barley cared at the time, but at least he left them in a spot that would be easy to cover.

We both laid there, tangled up in one another for some time. I was still feeling lightheaded, chasing that wonderful post-climax feeling and slowly coming down from it. If I didn’t have to move at all for the rest of time, I would’ve been content. I could’ve laid there with him for so long if that were possible.

When he got up and pulled himself out of me, I felt empty. There’s always a feeling of slight disappointment after sex that it couldn’t go on for longer, or that you had to separate from one another at all. Gerard took a moment to catch his breath before standing from the bed.

“I have to shower,” he said. “Do you wanna come with?”

I happily agreed. I followed him into the bathroom and waited as he started up the shower. Within seconds the mirror was steamed over from the hot water. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle a hot shower, but the minute the hot water touched my skin I felt like I was in paradise. Taking a shower where the water was anything cooler than scolding hot was definitely not an option for me. I let Gerard use the hotel provided shampoo and body wash first, seeing as he was the one who had performed an entire show before we had sex. I stood back as he washed himself, taking in the sight of his body covered in suds and water.

“We’re really bad at this,” I blurted without thinking.

He turned to look at me. “What do you mean?”

“We keep saying we’re going to stop, and then we never do.”

He sighed and tilted his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“What we’re doing isn’t right.”

“It feels right.”

I felt a smile tugging at my lips. Yeah, it definitely felt right. But morally it wasn’t right. Was it?

“Do you think, if the circumstances were different, that we’d be a normal couple?” Gerard asked as he stepped back, allowing me to let the water run over me.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I definitely noticed his use of the word “couple”, but decided not to mention it just yet. I hadn’t ever thought of us in that way, in a “relationship” type of way. Not that I didn’t want to. I know Gerard would be a perfect boyfriend, probably the best one I could ever ask for, but I didn’t think he saw what we were doing in that way. It had just been sex. There were some moments that it felt like more than that, but for the most part I knew that’s all it was and all it likely would ever be.

“Like...if you weren’t my best friend’s kid, do you think we would ever actually...be able to explore what we have? To actually go out together on dates and be able to hold hands in public and be together. Not to sneak around behind closed doors and hope no one notices the brief glances we have when we’re in public?”

I was shocked. I didn’t think Gerard had thought of what we were doing in that way. It had never been brought up before, so I just assumed we were on the same page in terms of this being a “no strings attached” type of deal.

“I think...I think we would,” I admitted. “Granted, it might be a little controversial with the age difference.”

“It would be, but we’re both adults regardless of the age difference. It’s not like you just turned 18 and I’m a gross middle aged man waiting to be able to date you.”

I scrunched my nose in disgust at his comparison. “Yeah, the world sees enough of that as it is. I think a relationship between someone in their mid 20s and someone in their 40s is the least people have to worry about.”

Gerard took my face in his hands suddenly and leaned down to kiss me. It was sweet and gentle, just a normal kiss because he felt like kissing me. I leaned into him, returning it because I just felt like kissing him, too.

This, I thought to myself, is what it would feel like to be able to just be a normal couple. Just to kiss each other because we feel like it.

We turned off the water as it started to run cold. We both dried off and got ready for bed. I knew I should’ve gone back to my own room, that it would be suspicious if anyone came looking for me the next morning and I wasn’t there, but I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to spend the night with Gerard, and he wanted me there, too.

We climbed into bed together. Gerard turned off the lamp next to the bed and the room was plunged into darkness. He took me into his arms, holding me to him as the fatigue finally started to wash over us. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beating, as I closed my eyes.

This is what it would be like if we could be a normal couple, was the last thought I had before I finally drifted off to sleep.

*I’m sorry there wasn’t more to the smut. I got sick in the middle of writing this and found myself struggling to finish the smutty bits. I hope it was okay otherwise!*

#gerard way #gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #gerard way smut #my chemical romance #imagine #one shot #request #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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anystalker707 · 8 months

Text

.worship.

Pairings: Gerard Way x [gender neutral/afab] Reader Frank Iero x [gender neutral/afab] Reader Word count: ~ 700 [G.W.] - 600 [F.I.] Genre: Drabble / Smut / Fluff Summary: His adoration for your body is unquestionable. Kind of content: Chubby Reader / Praising / Dom-Sub undertones / Sub Reader / Body worship not proofreader

requested by anon ["heya, first time asking for smthn like this but do you do any fanfictions for plus size / chubby readers? If you do could you do a sub female plus size reader with Gerard way or Frank iero? Smthn slow and loving? (Smut)"]

MASTERLIST

Gerard would often get lost in thoughts while staring at your thighs, even before you even got together. You would often catch him looking at your thighs—even more when they were flat against some surface—, with that dumb face, and he always did that shitty poor job whenever someone confronted him about it. After you two got together, he simply pretended that never happened.

Gerard would always buy you the best clothes that made your curves stand out. He would always have that dumb look on his face while observing you trying on the clothes he bought you. Pampering you would quickly become a habit. Seeing you in those pretty clothes, even more, the lingerie and thigh highs… He needed to see you in those, to touch you and tell you how pretty you were. Sometimes, it just resumed itself to admiring, really, sitting on his lap while his hands ran along your curves, and he pressed kisses to your neck while whispering sweet words.

Gerard sometimes couldn’t handle how hot you looked and would take you away for a fuck. He needed to have you under him—or on top of him, even. All that mattered was being able to have a good view of your body. Something about the way the skin sank under his fingertips every time he held onto your thighs, hips, or waist was just so heavenly. Or breasts— Fuck, the way he would hold them while you rode him. He loved the squish, the way it felt, the way it looked.

Gerard also loved sinking his teeth into your skin, sucking and biting marks into it because just observing wasn’t enough. He needed even more of you. He would not hesitate to nibble your thighs and hips whenever he had the chance, seeming all proud of his job when he took a look at it later.

Gerard would gladly die smothered by your thighs. Having his head between your thighs was absolutely one of the things he loved the most, having the soft and plump skin he loved so much around his head while he pleased you.

Gerard’s hands slipped between your thighs, while one of his arms wrapped around your torso for support; meanwhile, one of your hands wrapped around his shoulders and the other around his wrist.

“God, you’re so hot like this, baby…” His breath was hot against your skin, forehead pressed to your temple while he kept speaking those sweet nothings. The words alone were enough to make arousal stir in the bottom of your stomach, even more with how his hand moved between your legs.

A couple of fingers teased your clit, rubbing slow circles into it. Gerard loved the way your breath would get caught in your throat, making broken whimpers escape your lips while you hopelessly tried to move your hips against his hand. Useless, by the way. He just wouldn’t change the pace of his fingers. He wanted to enjoy every second the most, savoring the moment completely, even if all he had at the moment was a neglected cock stuck inside uncomfortable tight pants. The most he would have, from time to time, was the way your thighs would rub against it whenever you squirmed.

Those thighs, fuck. They looked so pretty flat against Gerard’s like that. He really couldn’t help himself.

Occasionally, Gerard’s fingers would actually slip into your pussy—he would collect some of the wetness to help his fingers glide against your puffy clit even easier, making the motions so delicious.

“Gerard,” you choked out his name, trying to plead for him to finally let you cum.

“Shh,” Gerard soothed. He could sense your thighs pressing together a little too much, your hips too unquiet, so he gave you a pause once again. He could keep going like that, wanting to see how far you could go until you either became a complete mess or came with the slightest touch.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Frank maybe—just maybe—loved your chubbiness a little too much. He wouldn’t admit it, constantly stuttering excuses and looking away while his face burned red, but you knew too well that he enjoyed the way your bottoms sometimes sank into your skin and made the skin muffin a little.

Frank, whose hands always found their way to your thighs whenever you sat on his lap or had your legs over his. He would hold and squeeze your thighs, sometimes absentmindedly, as if they were his to use as he pleased whenever he wanted to.

Frank would always hold onto your hips while you kissed, letting his fingers sink into it. Sometimes, he would even rub circles into your hips. It all started when he would occasionally pull you closer by your hips, then he started squeezing them out of curiosity before it grew into a habit.

Frank loved just resting his head on your tummy while you lay in bed or on the couch. He would just rest his head there and, sometimes, slip your shirt up a little bit, so he could give your tummy tiny kisses.

Frank would always bite his lip and groan softly whenever you started taking off your clothes, sometimes muttering about how hot you were. His hands would immediately roam over your body at any given opportunity. His hands would grope everywhere he could, going down your ass to hold there while you made out or while you rode him.

“Frank,” you whispered. Those little kisses on the exposed slice of the skin of your torso were starting to lose their innocence. You took a little too long to notice—you were immersed in the book you had in hand, lying on the couch while Frank lay his head on your torso like he usually did. “Frank,” you said again, with a firmer tone.

A groan came in response from Frank. He said nothing, of course. If anything, he only got bolder. His kisses went until the waistband of your shorts, where he had to take a pause while his fingers wrapped around it and slowly started pulling it down.

A shaky breath escaped your lips.

“Mm, Frank, I’m—”

“Your book can wait,” he said simply as he just took your shorts off.

Who even were you to argue? A sigh escaped your lips as you put the book away and spread your legs open to give Frank more access.

Frank’s lips kept peppering kisses all over your tummy and hips, worshiping them way more than he would admit he enjoyed. He nibbled a little down your hip, making you gasp and instinctively buck your hips forward. Damn.

“What are you so hot for…” Frank grumbled among other things, making your face heat up while you tried to sit still for him. His hands held onto your thighs, letting his fingers sink into them while his lips made their way down until the feeling of him mouthing your pussy through your underwear made you squirm again. “Easy,” Frank said with a gentle squeeze on your thighs. It took you a little effort, but you did your best to sit still as his mouth pressed to you through your underwear, only starting the teasing.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#my chemical romance #frank iero #gerard way #x reader #x female reader #transmasc reader #frank iero x reader #gerard way x reader #fan fic #fan fiction #mcr x reader #oneshot #imagine

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ghoulgirlwrites · 11 months

Text

So Don’t Hate Me, Trust In Me

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader

Era: Danger Days

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: ~1500

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled. “Of course.”

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

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

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moonxmagix · 1 year

Text

Daddy's Girl NSFW

Pairing: Frank Iero x Fem Reader

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

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

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

Reblogs appreciated!

~^~^~^~^

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank: Doing okay?

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

Frank: I’m glad, honey.

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

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

Me: Yes. I’d love to!

Frank: What time are you free then?

Me: Umm maybe around 12?

Frank: Sounds like a date then

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

~^~^~^~^

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me: Liv i think im in love no joke

Liv: i would be too

Me: were getting coffee rn ill update soon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be safe and sound in his heart forever.

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partypoisonzz · 2 years

Text

i'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) (gerard way x reader smut)

Kinktober Day 3: Glove/Hand Kink

Era: Danger Days (2010)

Reader Pronouns: None mentioned but Reader has AFAB anatomy.

Content:

- Glove/Hand Kink

- Domestic bliss 🥺

- Dom!Gerard... for most of it

- Degradation

Word Count: 3,629

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

"What do you think?"

You look up from your phone, taking in the sight of Gerard standing in front of you. At long last, his concept for his Party Poison costume has come to fruition. Months of sketches and reworking have culminated in this moment.

"Impressive," you say. And it truly is.

Your eyes scan over him, down and up and back again. There are the nice leather boots that go halfway up to his knees, the dark wash jeans, the customized blue jacket, emblazoned with the Dead Pegasus logo that he designed, the yellow plastic mask…

Your eyes travel back down to his hands and pause at the brown leather biker gloves.

"You really think so?"

You snap back to the present at the sound of Gerard's voice. You look back up at his face, alight with pride, and nod.

"Mmm-hmm. You look great, honey."

He does look great.

He looks so great that you can't stop thinking about it, even after the costume is put away and he's just your husband again. You're still ruminating over the getup hours later, and you don't know why.

Your thoughts are clouded as you go about the rest of your day. You feel guilty for only halfway-listening to Gerard's excited rambling about the upcoming album, as well as being completely checked out when you meet the rest of the guys for dinner. You only return to reality when Frank throws a crumpled-up napkin at you and hits you in the face, eliciting uproarious laughter from the rest of the table and stares from your fellow diners.

The haze hangs on until just before you crawl into bed.

You hear Gerard call to you from the bedroom as you wash your face. "Babe?"

You splash yourself with the cold water once more before turning off the faucet and reaching for a towel. "Yeah?"

He stays silent for a moment before posing his question. "You're okay, right?"

"I'm fine." You pat your face dry before tossing the towel into the hamper and turning off the bathroom light. Having completed your usual before-bed routine, you saunter into the bedroom and crawl into bed next to Gerard. "Why do you ask?"

Gerard closes his book and sits it on the nightstand. "I dunno," he says. "You just seem sort of... distant."

You sigh, stretching out your aching limbs. "I'm tired," you say. That's not a lie, either. "I know I don't have the right to complain, — you're the one doing all the work, after all, — but this whole album thing... The recording and the PR stuff and the music videos and getting ready for the tour..." You turn over on your side to face your husband.

"It's all getting real so fast," you tell him quietly. "In three weeks, you'll be out on the road again, and I'll still be right here."

For a while, Gerard doesn't say anything. He just stares at you in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He looks beautifully solemn, strands of his newly-dyed red hair falling over his eyes.

Finally, he breaks the silence. "C'mere."

He gently cups your cheek as you draw closer to him, pressing his lips to yours in a lazy kiss. You close your eyes, relishing the feeling of his mouth on yours, the way he's still close enough for the two of you to share body heat, the faint, lingering scent of his hair dye, the feeling of his thumb brushing across the side of your face...

Even when he pulls away, he keeps his hand there, softly caressing your skin. "Everything's gonna be alright," he assures you. "Being away from you won't be easy for me, either, but..." He presses a kiss against your forehead before resting his head against yours. "I'll come back like I always do. Plus, you've got me here right now."

You chuckle. "Thank God for that."

"Glad you see it my way." He nudges you lightly with his shoulder. "Want me to rub your back? Ease some of the tension?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Is this just a back rub, or a back rub with extra stuff?"

"Just a back rub." He pauses, appearing to think before tacking on an additional disclaimer. "Unless you want the extra stuff, of course."

You laugh. "Think I'll just go with the backrub for now," you say. "We'll see about tomorrow, though."

He nods. "Tomorrow. Got it." Another nudge. "Now, turn over."

Only when he starts massaging your tense shoulders does everything begin to fall into place.

You've always had a thing for Gerard's hands. How could you not, really? The way that he grips the microphone... His careful precision when he draws... How he alternates between soft and firm touch equally skillfully, as though it's absolutely nothing...

You can't help but look at his hands when he's completing everyday tasks. Oftentimes, your train of thought leads you to anticipate all the places those hands will wander later on. Even after a few years of marriage, you still find yourself turning away, face aflame.

Your mind flickers back to the gloves from earlier. Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense.

There's something about the way his hands look in those gloves. The cracked dark leather, concealing everything but his fingers and knuckles... Showcasing how his hands seem strong and delicate all at once...

You don't know why you didn't realize it sooner.

Try as you might not to allow yourself to obsess over this realization, the thought lingers in your mind. It's still there, even when Gerard falls asleep rubbing your back and you can barely keep your own eyes open.

For the millionth time since you first met your husband, a familiar thought pops into your mind.

Everything about him drives me insane, you think. He's gonna be the fucking death of me.

You sigh and turn over on your back, your own hand creeping into the waistband of your pajama pants.

A week or so later, you find yourself baking in the desert sunlight through the window of an old diner. Though you know you could logically blame the hellish climate of California in late July for the feverish feeling overtaking you, you know that you're sweating for an entirely different reason.

"Hey, babe. How's my ass look?"

You focus your attention on Gerard, who is currently turning slow circles in an attempt to properly show off the goods.

"As good as ever," you tell him.

"But is it good enough?" he presses. "It gets its own close-up, so it has to be in peak condition..."

"Your ass is always in peak condition," you cut him off. "Then again, I am married to you, so maybe I'm biased."

You grab a magazine off the table and flip it open, attempting to distract yourself. As it stands, you want to jump his bones, right here, right now. Discussing the premium quality of his ass isn't helping.

You wrinkle your nose as you open to a spread in the middle of the volume. "Ew," you laugh. "I didn't intend on seeing Simba and Nala uncut, but okay..."

"Lemme see." Gerard swipes the magazine out of your hands as he slides into the booth next to you. You watch him flip the pages of the magazine, slow and deliberate, and feel the blood rushing to your face again.

He chuckles. "Oh, yeah. This whole thing is a gag for the video. Only the perviest shit that National Geographic has ever had to offer." He places the magazine back down on the table. "Mikey's gonna be the one reading it, of course." He snorts. "Poor kid. I can never make him suffer enough..."

You can never make me suffer enough, you think. You manage to bite your tongue before the thought slips out. That would kind of be a jarring thing to tell your husband unprompted.

You startle back to the present moment when you feel Gerard's fingers drumming against your thigh.

"Hey." He gives you a gentle smile. "What're you thinking about, huh?"

The honest answer runs through your mind. In fact, it damn near passes your lips.

Your hands, you want to say. More specifically, how they would feel wrapped around my hips if you just threw me onto this table and blew my back out.

The door swings open, ensuring that you don't put this idea out in the open. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Mikey says. "But we just got back from our lunch break. Probably should get as much filming as we can in before the sun goes down."

You offer Gerard a shaky smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Alright, Mr. Director. Back to work."

"Right." He returns to his feet. You stand up and brush yourself off, sauntering towards the fridge for a soda.

Just when you think he's about to step into the blazing midsummer afternoon, Gerard speaks up again. "Hang on a minute," he calls to Mikey.

The next thing you know, his hands are on your waist, pulling you towards him.

You try not to tense up, — it's a purely innocent touch, for God's sake, — but it's kind of difficult when he fucking squeezes your waist while he kisses you.

"Love you," he tells you when he pulls away. "See you in a little bit."

He turns on his heel and follows his brother outside without any idea that such a slight touch has left you weak in the knees.

A little over an hour later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You immediately answer it upon seeing Gerard's name flash across the screen. "Hello?"

"My trailer's open, if you wanna swing on by." You can hear the sly grin in his voice. "Just you, me, some drinks, and the air conditioner."

Though you roll your eyes, a smile surfaces on your face in response to his proposition. "I'll be right there. Just gimme one sec."

A few minutes later, you're pushing the trailer door open and climbing inside. "Another break?" you ask as you close the door behind you. "You just took your lunch, like, an hour and a half ago..."

"Yeah, but more pressing matters came up." Gerard abandons his spot on the cushioned chair next to the window to meet you by the door. He reaches behind you to fasten the lock before cupping your face in his hands.

You stiffen as your eyes connect with his. His lips curl up just slightly, but it isn't the glowing smile that he was giving you earlier.

You think he's going to kiss you, but he doesn't.

"I saw how you were looking at me earlier," he says, his voice low.

You attempt to swallow the lump building in your throat. Though the anticipation of what might happen next twists your stomach into eager knots, you know it's not out of your realm to sass back.

"Yeah? So I thought you looked good." You shrug, trying to play it off as though your heart isn't running wild in your chest. "Sue me."

His grip tightens around your jaw. "Don't you know how to ask for what you want, sugar?" he asks. "You can't just spell it out for me all the time. It gets tiring."

He presses his mouth to yours. You kiss back eagerly as his tongue runs over yours, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric of his shirt. You hear him let out a low groan before he pushes you back into the wall.

"Fuckin' tell me," he orders. "Use that pretty little mouth of yours."

A whine climbs up your throat before you oblige him. "Your hands."

"My hands?" He raises his eyebrows, looking at you as though the conversation just took a completely unexpected turn.

You know better than that.

He absolutely knows. Maybe he's known all along.

Still, he asks: "What about my hands, sugar?"

"You know that I've always liked your hands," you say. "I love the way they look, all strong but so... pretty. Love the way they feel when you touch me." You swallow hard once again before continuing. "But the gloves. Jesus Christ, Gerard... I don't know what it is, but those gloves are so fucking hot..."

"You like the gloves, huh?" He huffs out a laugh. "Should've just said so." He holds his hand in front of your face before giving you another command. "Open your mouth, baby."

You obey him without question.

He doesn't have to ask you to suck the two fingers that he plunges into your mouth. You do it automatically, your tongue running slowly over his skin.

He draws in a sharp breath. "I didn't know you had such an oral fixation. Could've made good on that a long time ago..."

You pull off of his fingers with a pop. "I don't usually," you say. "It's just... well... your hands..."

He chuckles. "Like sucking on my fingers, sugar?" he asks. "That's cute. Such a good little slut for me."

The degrading nickname elicits another pathetic whine from you. "Please," you beg. You aren't entirely sure what you're even asking for. You just know that you want, — need, — more from him.

"Please what?" he asks. "Use your words, baby."

"I don't care what you do to me," you tell him. "Just as long as you use your hands. And don't take the gloves off."

He laughs openly now. He sounds a little maniacal, a little mean, but that only makes you wetter. "You're so desperate," he comments. "It's fucking adorable."

He snaps his fingers before pointing to the chair in the corner. "Sit."

Wordlessly, you walk over to the chair and take a seat.

He smiles before sinking to his knees. You shift as he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans and pulls them down your legs. "Needy little whore," he remarks. "Losing your fucking mind over the slightest bit of touch..."

You let out a broken moan as soon as the leather of the gloves meets the skin of your bare thigh, proving his point.

He barks out another harsh laugh. "Holy shit," he says. "You'd think you hadn't been touched in years."

At this point, the part of your brain that generates rebuttals has turned completely off. You roll your hips up into nothing, more pleas falling from your lips. "Gerard... Please..."

Gerard doesn't react to your begging, his face set in concentration. "If you go crazy for my hand on your leg, I wonder what you'll do if I move it..." His fingers climb up your thigh slowly. "Up here?"

You moan as his fingers lightly brush over the front of your panties.

He's so close to where you need him, but...

Not quite.

He pulls his hand back with a self-satisfied grin. "Even better than I thought," he says. "Now, how about..." His fingers hook under the edge of the fabric, pulling the underwear down. "This?"

Another whimper of affirmation as you throw your head back.

"Good." His hand starts climbing up your inner thigh again. You know there's probably going to be a wet spot on the chair by the time you stand up. "What about now?"

Your knees buckle as his fingers finally brush over your exposed pussy. "God, yes," you gasp.

"Yeah," Gerard says. "That's what I thought."

Just like that, all the teasing comes to an abrupt halt. He shoves the same two fingers that he put in your mouth earlier inside of you. You cry out, grinding your hips into his hand.

"Look at you. Fucking yourself on my hand." His voice drips with pride, — as well as arousal, judging by the groan that follows soon after. "Fuck, baby. That's so hot. Wish you could fucking see yourself, the way I'm seeing you right now."

Though part of you worries it will all be too much, you look down at him, taking in the genuinely awestruck expression on his face.

If the past few years that you've spent with him have taught you one thing, it's that Gerard is really no good at being dominant.

Well, he's technically good at it. He knows how to talk dirty, how to fuck you until your entire body feels like it's coming unwound, how to make you come over and over again.

The thing is that, no matter how many times he calls you names or pulls your hair or marks you up with hickies and bruises, he just can't keep the mask from falling. Which is remarkable, considering he can be quite the actor.

No matter how intense things get, you always catch him just looking at you at some point, eyes brimming with love.

God, if that doesn't make you weaker than anything else.

You can barely look at him right now. He's so fucking pretty, — sunlight illuminating his neon hair like a halo, his eyes shining green-gold beneath the rays as he looks up at you. You could count the freckles across the bridge of his nose, write poems about the way his eyelashes flutter across his cheeks when he blinks.

But then he picks up the pace, and you remember that he's fingering you in his trailer while he's supposed to be working.

It isn't the most poetic representation of romance, for sure.

Not that you're complaining.

You taste blood from your lower lip as he curls his fingers upwards, pressing hard against your front wall. His fingers are long enough to hit all the right places. Even better, he knows your body like the back of his hand. (Ha-fucking-ha.) He knows exactly what he's doing.

He pumps his fingers in and out, going knuckle deep before repeating the process. The leather of the gloves brushes against your inner thigh, only intensifying the sensation.

It's borderline overwhelming. And still, you tell him...

"More," you manage. "Please. I need more."

"Don't have to tell me twice, sugar." He brings his other hand up, pressing his thumb against your clit.

You begin to feel dizzy as he rubs tight circles around the bundle of nerves, still thrusting his fingers into you all the while. Heat pools between your legs, your building orgasm creating the feeling of flames licking between your hips.

"I can't..." you pant. "Can't hold on anymore, oh my God..."

At that, Gerard pulls his fingers out all the way. You whimper at the loss just before he pushes them in again, meeting absolutely no resistance.

You feel yourself tightening up, clamping down on him as you let out a cry that just barely drowns out his desperate gasp.

Your back arches as you come and come and come. It's intense, — the most intense orgasm you've had in a long while. You swear that it's never going to end. When it finally does, you let out a bewildered laugh.

"Holy shit," you huff. "That was fucking incredible."

Gerard simply hums in agreement before licking his fingers clean.

You idly swat at him. "Gross," you chastise him. "I mean... hot, but gross."

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a smile. "You know you love it."

You would have to be a liar to deny that.

"Yeah," you admit. "I do."

You nudge him lightly with your leg. "Now, get up. You've got a music video to finish."

He laughs as he stands up. "Bold of you to be bossing me around after I just made you come like that."

"Mmm... It's my turn now." You pull your pants back up before rising on still-trembling legs.

You can't help but notice the tenting of his skinny jeans when you lean in to kiss him. You close your eyes, relishing the taste of yourself on his tongue. You only pull away when he moans into your mouth.

"I'm getting you back when we go home," you declare.

Despite his panting breaths, the crooked smile on Gerard's face tells you that he takes this as a challenge. "Oh, yeah?"

"Absolutely." You walk towards the door, lingering in the entranceway for just a moment. "I'm giving you one condition right now," you finally say.

Gerard trails behind you. Despite his earlier dominance, he's right back to following you like a lost puppy. "And what would that be?"

You can't help but smile slyly. God, he's into this. "Let me try on the gloves." When he's close enough, you pull him close to you, kissing him hard again before pulling back to whisper in his ear. "Maybe I'll jerk you off while I'm wearing them."

His breath hitches as your lips travel downwards, settling against the side of his neck. "Fuck," he mutters as you suck at a particularly sensitive spot.

"Mmm-hmm." You pull back with a quiet giggle, elbowing him in the side playfully. "Get back to work now. For real."

You mentally pat yourself on the back as his voice takes on a whiny tone. "But, babe..."

"Later." Stern as it is, your voice holds a promise that you'll make good on your word.

Clearly, it's enough to make Gerard listen to you. As he reaches for the doorknob, you give his ass a quick grope.

He makes a quiet sound of surprise before casting a questioning look in your direction.

You smile. "I don't feel like I properly expressed how great it looked earlier."

He rolls his eyes before pushing the trailer door open and stepping back out onto the desert sand.

You give a self-satisfied chuckle as you close the door behind him, opting to utilize the air-conditioned refuge of his trailer for the remainder of the afternoon.

Tonight is going to be fun, you think as you watch him reunite with the crew throught the window.

You'll do your best to drive him wild. It's only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Taglist (Ask to be Included!)

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper

#gerard way x reader #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way imagines #gerard way smut #gerard way fanfiction #mcr fanfiction #mcr x reader #kinktober 2022 #my writing #mcr smut

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samiwife · 8 months

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Halloween Party 𓆩♡𓆪 (Gerard Way x Reader)

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

A/N: This is part 3 of the request. Again this following fanfic is going to be smut. So hopefully you like this last part. <3 Thank you so much for reading <3

TW: Pet names, oral sex, rough, and cussing

(Reader discretion is advised)

Halloween was coming up and you had no plans for that day. Your roommates were excited about a party that another friend of theirs was throwing. They begged you to come along. You accepted for the reason of beer and having something sexy to wear. You had a week to think of a costume before the party. You already had the idea in mind, you were going as an angel. You had a white dress and white heels. You just needed the halo to finish it. Which was easy to find since it was easy to find online. Finally, Halloween came around and you got all dressed up. Your roommates drove you to the party and you walked in. Music was blaring and alcohol was everywhere. One of your friends at the party tossed you a beer and you quickly drank. You only had one beer and you already felt loose.

You danced and drank more. While you danced, you accidentally stepped on someone's foot. You quickly turned around and apologized. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" You asked frantically. The guy you stepped on was tall, had dark hair, wore red eyeshadow, and was dressed like the devil. He looked so beautiful and pretty. You couldn't make up words to describe him. "It's okay, you didn't mean to, angel." He said. You stammered and blushed. Angel? Damn, that's hot. "H-haha, I see what you did there devil man," you said jokingly while hitting the side of his arm. "I'm Gerard and you are?" He said while looking you up and down. You gulped and blushed. "I'm Y/N and surprisingly not angel." You said with a smile while leaning over to him. Gerard smiles and grabs your hand.

"Well Y/N why don't we go somewhere private?" Gerard said while leading you upstairs. "Okay sure, the devil is being a little flirty." You said with a chuckle. Gerard looks back and smiles wider. "Says you, you're being a little naughty for an angel," Gerard said with a wink. You and Gerard ran to a random room where nobody was there. It was just a small bedroom. Gerard closes the door and locks it. You didn't know whose room this was or cared. You just wanted to kiss Gerard or maybe do more with him. The alcohol was really making you horny and you wanted to take care of that with Gerard. You tucked Gerard's necktie around his neck. Gerard chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist. "Angel, you want me this bad?" Gerard said in your ear, chills shot down your spine as he whispered in your ear.

"Yes sir, I want you." You said under your breath. Gerard smirks and lifts up your chin to make you look at him in his eyes. "What was that? I didn't hear you." Gerard says lowly. You gasp quietly and gulp. "I want you, sir, I want you so much." You said loudly enough to make him hear you. Gerard smirks wider and gently pushes you down to your knees. "Is that so angel? Beg for it." Gerard said lowly. You chuckled, put your hands on your knees, and looked up at him. "I want your pretty cock in my mouth sir, please let me taste you." You said in a whiney tone. Gerard looks down at you begins to unzip his pants and slides them down.

Exposing his large member, you gasped at the size. You wrap your finger around him and start to move up and down. Gerard moans quietly and looks down at you. "God angel you're so pretty when you're doing that," Gerard groans. You smile and lean closer towards him. You lick his tip and begin to swish your tongue around him. Gerard's mouth swung open and moans escaped his lips. "Just like that princess, you're doing so good." Gerard moans out. Gerard grabs a fist of your hair causing you to moan.

Gerard smirks at your moans and you begin to bob your head. Gerard arches his back from you bobbing. "Agh fuck, I'm going to come baby." Gerard moans. You slide your lips off causing a loud pop and look up. "Then come for me, my little devil man." You said while jerking him up and down. Gerard blushes at your pet name for him. After a few minutes of jerking, you open your mouth slightly to catch his release. Gerard comes, his release lands in your mouth and you lick your lips. Gerard smiles and wipes the remaining come off your lips. "You're such a good little angel for me, I'll clean you up," Gerard said while running his thumb over your plump red lips. You smile and get up and kiss him. Gerard smirks and takes your hand to the bathroom.

#fanfiction #2000s emo #emocore #my chemical romance #my chemical gerard #gerard way #gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfic #gerard way imagine #emo aesthetic #emo music #gerard way smut

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imkakashisexual · 10 months

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My Kakashi's shrine🥷⛩️

🤫

My big collection but its not all(i live in Japan and like to buy in Russia some goods)

うん,我々たくさんカカシのフィギュア,誰もが集めない。👈🏻

#kakashi

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mcrimagines · 1 year

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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

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years

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A Few Very Compelling Arguments - Frank Iero x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

You had been righteously furious after that.

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

Since then things had completely gotten out of control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it bad,” you asked.

Mikey leant in closer, taking a good look.

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

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

“Shit, (y/n), I’m so sorry-”

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

“Oh fuck-”

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

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

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

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

“(y/n), you’re not-”

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

And with that you stormed off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, not bothering with an answer.

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

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

“What you said about leaving the band-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holding your movement, you listened. Only silence.

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

That was when you heard it.

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

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

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

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

“Frank! Are you okay? Let me in!”

Nothing but more sobs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” he cried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Not me. Gee.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t wanna say,” Frank corrected.

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

“Emotions are complicated,” Frank replied cryptically.

“What emotions?”

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

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

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

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

Frank shook his head against your shoulder again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“’m scared.”

“Of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think they killed each other?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist:

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

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pretty-oooodd · 10 months

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✂ AND WE'LL DANCE ALONE TO THE TUNE OF YOUR DEATH.

Notes: a little thing I wrote at 3 am instead of sleeping. Better with this song in the background. Remember that English isn't my first language, and I write to improve my skills and for fun!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevskij, reader.

Genre: angst I guess?

Tw/cw: fem!reader, Fyodor being a bit ooc I think, major character death, fever-dreaming, slightly religious themes.

One step to the right, another one to the left.

Their feet barely touching while the rest of their bodies seemed to merge into one.

Two steps backwards, one forward.

Her head on his chest, her hands one on his shoulder, the other one tightly interlocked with his fingers.

A quick spin.

No words left their mouths, but the beating of his heart alone was enough. Piano notes came from somewhere in that dark ballroom. Only a few, shy, dying candles lit the death-stenched atmosphere.

Fyodor's other hand rested on her hip, guiding her through the soft music.

-You hold me a bit too tightly to be the one that killed me.-

Words sweet like sugar and her kisses, yet sharp as his knives, echoed in the ballroom together with the music. Still, she didn't dare to oppose his touch and he didn't dare to push her away.

-Maybe I regret doing so.-

His breath flew through her silky hair, like a fooling caress made by a way too sly wind.

-I find it hard to believe.-

She chuckled, but her laugh wasn't crystalline like before; her chest didn't tremble like flowers by the wind anymore. She was just clinging to Fyodor's body, like a stiff, lifeless doll.

Was her heart even beating?

Was she even alive?

"No" was the sad truth in a way too tempting reality, in which he didn't stuck too much to his own pride. But he and his pride were one, inseparable and omens of catastrophic events. Still she loved Fyodor dearly, like a devoted follower loves their God; and like a soldier craves war and like a starving hunter craves their prey to fall.

Even though he stuck with his pride, selfishly like a spoiled noble man, Fyodor missed her. He missed her fingertips through his hair and on his body, their skins against each other, her insatiable mind and her soothing voice.

Fyodor had let the house they shared burn and the gorgeous garden she sweetly, intensely cared for became ash, together with the land she was buried in.

The stench of death in that large room was almost like a perfume. The stench of death to Fyodor wasn't the same as everyone else. The one he felt invading his lungs was sweet: it was flowers, the ashes from his cigarette box and her garden, books and freshly washed clothes, rain, tears and despair of a loved one left to rot in a fancy coffin.

He looked up at the ceiling of the ballroom, while he kept on dancing with the imitation his mind had made of his past lover.

And the ceiling looked back at him; millions of eyes, eyes of angels and eyes of demons, eyes from the Heavenly Virtues and the Seven Deadly Sins, and eyes from tarot cards' figures observed his elegant movements. But those eyes looked so much, too much, like hers.

They were judgmental, but he had no fear of those wary stares from statues and painting.

-You are right. Even if it had to be done, I still miss you.-

He looked back down at her hidden figure and pushed her slightly, enough to see her face. She was just as beautiful as he remembered her to be. The light of the candles, barely surviving, traced her facial features just well, perfectly to refresh his memory like sea breeze.

-You are a cruel man. And you are terribly lonely. I took pity on you and I gifted you my heart out of love and devotion for a lonesome man that believes himself to be sent by God.-

Her lips barely moved, her voice was low and sounded heavenly to his ears.

-And I gifted you my heart back, milaya. You took it to your grave. My heart, that was the price I paid to lose you.-

Fyodor raised his hand over her head and made her spin, one, two, three times.

-That's the only thing that consoles my restless soul. My nails are now digging and carving your heart just like you did to mine. But beware that your heart, nor my love, will be enough to save you from your sins and your faults. My tears and care weren't enough to wash the blood off your hands and clothes, and my arms won't be enough to stop demons from dragging you to Hell.-

A candle died completely and he noticed that only two of them were still fighting to light the large room. The music started to fade, sounding distant as if the mysterious pianist was walking away with his instrument.

-I know. Soon I'll reach my goal, and I will rest in the same land were you lie, my dear. I'll make sure to leave my corpse next to yours and my soul to your judgment. Until then, haunt me. Bruise my skin and make me insane, but don't leave me.-

Fyodor spun her around two more times. Another candle faded away like a silent whisper in the night as their dance became more aggressive and the music grew more distant.

She moved her hand from his shoulder to his face, cupping his cheek gently.

-I won't leave you. Maybe I'll even follow you in Hell, who knows... Perhaps loving you was a sin itself.-

He raised his hand again to spun her one last time, but the music abruptly stopped and the last candle gave up to the darkness before he could face her again.

So he woke up, in a puddle of his sweat, a mess of his hair and sheets.

His forehead was hot and his vision blurry, he felt cold and oddly nervous.

Fyodor calmed down his breath and dizziness, and promised to himself that he would bring flowers to her grave and check if she were still in the coffin next time he visited her.

Don't steal, copy or translate my work!

Reblogs and reviews are very much appreciated!!

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ash-is-a-scorpio · 2 years

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Geard way being hotter the hell

#gerard way imagines #mcr #emo #gerard way #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way smut #gerard way fluff #gerard way x reader smut #gerard way icons

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anystalker707 · 10 months

Text

That guy from the local band

Pairing: Gerard x [afab] Reader Word count: ~ 1 100 Genre: Smut / Drabble Summary: One thing leads to another after you talk with the singer of the local band. Kind of content: Dom-Sub dinamics / Biting / Oral / Overstim *Not proofread

Requested by @melavoris [Hey! I saw a reddit post saying they'd had sex with Gerard in like 2002(seen below) and i just think it'd be sooo cool fi (...)]

MASTERLIST

Gerard Way. The name rolled off your tongue in a whisper as you still processed what was happening. He really was just letting you undo his shirt’s buttons and touch all over him while you straddled his hips; he made sure to prop up on his elbows to watch you. Something about that shy look from under dark lashes made something stir in your lower stomach, which only intensified when you ran your nails down his chest and he whimpered.

Red lines were left behind on Gerard’s pale torso in a soft contrast. There was something about the submissiveness in his actions that just motivated you to keep going—which, actually, had gotten the two of you on your bed like that after a gig of his band, a local thing that was just starting. A long makeout session eventually escalated after you finally got a grasp of what Gerard’s little whimpers meant.

“Let me touch you?” He whispered, quietly. “Please.”

Resisting that question was fucking impossible.

It was a matter of time until your clothes were all on the ground and, before you could really do anything, Gerard bent down between your thighs, his breath hot over your pussy as he brought your thighs over his shoulders. Just the proximity was enough to make your pussy throb a little in anticipation, mouth going dry as you watched him observe you with such dark eyes that carried such a pleading hint.

You gave him a slow nod, which was enough for Gerard to start what he intended to do. His tongue, warm and wet, ran up your slit just right. It moved around experimentally, carefully measuring each spot and exploring exactly where he would get more reactions from you. His hands tightened around the sides of your thighs to hold them in place, fingers sinking into the skin just perfectly, grip warm and caring at the same time it is firm. His hands tightened once he settled down, using your thighs as leverage to press closer, the movements of his tongue becoming more assertive.

A shaky gasp escaped your lips, making you shift a little, trying to hold back from rolling your lips onto his tongue when he pressed it flat against your pussy, rolling against your clit and flicking. The way he did it snatched moans from you shamefully easily, making you arch your back against the mattress and fist the sheets, trying to ground yourself before how easily Gerard was already making your mind become fuzzy.

If just his tongue already did wonders like that... You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan when Gerard’s lips wrapped around your puffy clit, giving it all his attention as he lapped his tongue at it and around. Your hand immediately flew to his head as you rolled your hips against him, tugging a little onto the greasy strands until you suddenly pulled away.

“S—Sorry,” you whispered breathlessly, “I didn’t mean to—”

“More,” Gerard mumbled before he went back to sucking at your clit, and the way he moaned against you at the moment you tugged on your hair again just snatched a louder moan from you. Fuck.

You could feel your release peaking in the distance, approaching faster than usual with the way Gerard’s tongue worked so much against your clit. The suction he added to it, just—

A string of moans and incoherent words spilled from your lips as you reached your high, waves of pleasure running up your body and clashing down, leaving a throbbing sensation between your legs that slowly built into the overstimulation. Gerard didn’t stop there, now letting his tongue trace your entrance and poke in to lap into your insides, licking up the remainings of your orgasm, letting the mix of spit and cum run down your ass and pool down, making a mess, but it didn’t even fucking matter. You were too lost in how fucking good his mouth felt against you.

Wouldn’t he stop, though? You’d already come, but he kept going, doing even more this time, enough to send your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tugged onto his hair to pull him even closer.

Gerard managed to get you somewhat spent before he pleasured himself with something other than rutting against the covers. He looked over at how you were sprawled on the mattress, biting on his lip. “Can I?”

You had to blink a couple of times to ground yourself to reality rather than the throbbing between your legs. Damn it. You didn’t even have the strength to adjust yourself on the bed, only nodding in response. “Yeah, go on,” you mumbled, letting out a quiet sound at the feeling of his cock pressing to your pussy.

Gerard’s cock slipped in so easily, but also felt so, so good. It made you let out higher pitched sounds with the overstimulation, immediately wrapping your arms around Gerard’s shoulders the moment he started moving.

Your breathing became shaky, nails sinking into Gerard’s shoulders as it was difficult to hold yourself back now with all the overstimulation—even holding back tears was hard, the sounds escaping your lips way too easily, higher pitched than usual.

“Harder,” he breathed once he felt your nails sinking into the skin. “Scratch it.”

It took your overwhelmed brain a couple of moments to process what he said, but you sank your nails into his back again, letting your nails sink into his back harder, which easily had Gerard’s hips snapping into yours with more force. Breathy words were muttered among whiny moans that came from him as he had his face right next to yours, gasping into your ear. Hell.

It was easy to drift your eyes to his neck, observe the flushed skin... Leaning in to bite onto Gerard’s neck was an automatic reaction, which had just the expected reaction. His hips snapped into yours at the same moment and he couldn’t help but start babbling for more again, groaning as his grip tightened around your thigh to keep fucking you until your next release hit you shamefully easily. It didn’t take long until Gerard ended up coming as well, pulling out before he could, letting the hot and sticky mess drip all over your torso.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#my chemical romance #gerard way #x reader #x female reader #afab reader #mcr #gerard x reader #oneshot #imagine #mcr x reader #mikey way #frank iero #ray toro #fan fic #fan fiction

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retrouvaiiled · 1 year

Text

Boyfriend's Brother (Hell To Pay)

Warnings: Mikey being a weird stalker, Reader cheats on Gerard, unprotected sex, usage of toys (rope, collar, vibrator), light dacryphilia, slight degradation, odd amount of praise, sir kink, pet names (pretty girl, little girl, hun, sweet girl), non canon confident Mikey, Tell me if i missed anything!

A/N: I love hate this. The ending is rushed as hell and im sorry. Im also sorry if the formatting is fucked. Not proofread, but revised. Sorry. This was also my first time ever writing a whole ass fic.

Word count: 1.9K

Your boyfriend's brother, Mikey, was, well, an odd boy.

You often caught him staring at you from the other side of the room, and for some reason everywhere you went, he was there. Even at the times you weren’t at their mother’s house, you would catch his lanky, pale figure in the distance. It was like he was always hot on your trail, and your boyfriend, Gerard, didn't even notice.

You guessed he was just busy, with all the comic & music shit going on. As he often hung out in the basement of his mother’s house working on comics, writing music, and doodling in his free time. Of course, he made time for you, but, lately, he was becoming more & more distant as his job became more & more stressful. All that time he wasn’t able to spend with you giving you time to bond with his little brother, Mikey.

“C'mon, Mikes, just watch it, for me?” You pleaded as you were both set up on the couch trying to pick a movie to watch. You wanted to watch The Corpse Bride, but Mikey complained you had watched it with him around 5 times already. “Nope, we’re watching The Exorcism.” He said, poking you when he saw your disgusted expression.

“Really? The Exorcism? You’re such a weirdo, Mikes.” You said, grimacing as he popped the DVD into the DVD player. The intro rolled in and you curled up against the armrest, feeling as if it was most definitely not right to cuddle into your boyfriend’s brother.

You awoke as the credits were rolling out, seeing Mikey directly next to you. You jumped off of him, knowing you did not cuddle into him while asleep. “Aw, you didn’t like you were all cuddled against me, hm, sweetheart?” He said as he lifted your chin with the tip of his finger. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, as Mikey was usually never this confident around you.

“Mikey, this is not okay. At all.” You said, getting up and backing away from the couch, going to head to the basement where Gerard was, before you felt a rough grip on your wrist stopping you from moving. “If you go and snitch on me to Gerard, I will never let you see the light of day again.” He said, causing you to whine pitifully under his gaze. “I-I won’t! Just– let go.” You said, before quickly running off as his grasp loosened.

You sighed in relief as you closed the basement door behind you, seeing Gerard on the bed reading a comic. Your beloved boyfriend set the comic down when he saw you, “Anything wrong, hun?” He asked, god, you forgot how much of a sweetheart he was while he was so wrapped up in his work. “Nothin’, Mikes was just bein’ weird after we watched The Exorcism.” You excused, sitting on the bed. “You know he gets like that, it's just a Mikey thing honey.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist. Little did you know, Mikey was listening to the whole conversation on the other side of the door, and there was hell to pay when he got his hands on you.

You came out of the basement in the middle of the night to use the bathroom & get Gerard a snack as he couldn’t sleep. But your luck went against you, and you ran into Mikey. You tried to walk around him, but he quickly grabbed you. “Oh no sweet girl, you aren’t running away from this.” He said, pinning you against the wall. “You really told Gerard, and thought I wouldn’t find out? You’ve got hell to pay now, little girl.” He said, chuckling as you scurried away once he let you go.

After the encounter, you weren’t able to sleep for days. Late most nights, you found yourself dripping in arousal over the thought of your boyfriend’s brother fucking you dumb over snitching on him. It was so fucking wrong. It was vile, fingering yourself imagining your fingers were replaced with Mikey’s, as you lay next to your boyfriend who was deep asleep.

A week after the encounter, Gerard announced he had a business trip of some sort to attend and would be gone for a week. A whole week of just you and Mikey in the home (as their mother was almost never around). And as Mikey said, you had hell to pay.

The first day of Gerard being gone, Mikey was already messing with you. When you came out of the basement, Mikey had you pinned up against the wall, just as the encounter before. “Now that your Geebear isn't here, what are you gonna do? Hm?” He asked, causing arousal to pool in your panties just from the rasp in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?” He said after you didn’t answer, his hand slipping to the crotch of your shorts and rubbing it slowly with his hand.

“Like that? You like your brother’s boyfriend rubbing your pussy through your tiny shorts?” He growled, groping your ass as you whimpered like a lost puppy. His hand eventually slipped into your shorts, rubbing your bare pussy as he whispered into your ear. “Look at that, the slut is wearing no panties around her brother’s boyfriend. This is what you wanted all along? Hm, Slut?” He whispered, licking the shell of your ear as you moaned out.

“This– This isn’t right Mikey. I can’t– I can’t do this.” You said despite the gasp that escaped you when you felt one of Mikey’s fingers slip inside of your tight cunt. You moaned when he moved his finger, languidly thrusting his single finger inside of you. “Oh yes, you can.” He said, pulling his finger out and hoisting you up on his hip as he carried you down the hall to his bedroom.

You squealed as he threw you on his bed, but was quickly shushed by Mikey. “Shh, sweet girl. Don’t want the neighbor hearing your slutty moans, do we now?” He asked, receiving a slow shake of your head in response. “That’s right, baby.” He said, getting up and going to the oddly large black box in front of his bed, and pulling out a rope, a collar with a bell on it, a blindfold, and the common vibrator. “What's that for?” You asked, gulping, stunned he had all this shit. “Oh, you didn’t think I was vanilla, did you?” He asked, chuckling lowly.

Mikey pulled your shorts & shirt off, admiring your body as he slid his hands down your smooth skin. “So, so pretty.” He murmured to himself before tying your hands to the bed frame. Mikey clipped the collar around your neck and stood back for a second. He stared at you, loving how pretty your body was. It took him a second to snap out of his trance, grabbing the vibrator and turning it on to one of the higher settings.

“No cumming til I say so, you got that?” He asked, holding the vibrator to your clit. “Oh– Fuck, Yes! Yes sir!” You said, words separated by broken moans as Mikey tortured your clit with the strong toy. Mikey decided to test the waters, slowly sliding two fingers into your cunt, groaning as your cunt squelched around his fingers. “You’re so wet, baby.” He growled, increasing the speed of his fingers.

The urge to cum grew as he went along, and the fact he was messing with the settings on the vibrator wasn't helping at all. You tried your best not to cum, but as holding back became painful, you let go, forgetting the fact you were told not to.

Mikey almost immediately removed his fingers, but flicked the vibrator up to the highest setting without a word. Mikey laid a hand on your stomach when he saw you squirming when the sensations became too much. “Don’t move too much, pretty girl, it won’t feel as good.” He whispered, nipping at your ear.

It was so fucking wrong that you were into how sweet Mikey was, it was almost like he was waiting for this, knowing exactly what toys to get, what to do to you, say, etc. It oddly turned you on, how much he craved to have you. Nobody except for Gerard had ever done anything like this for you, and it made your stomach swarm with butterflies and arousal pool in your panties.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Mikey talking to you again, “You thinkin’ bout something sweets? Better not be that Geebear of yours.” He said, lifting your chin up with his finger. You moaned at the nickname, but whined as Mikey pulled the vibrator away from you and flicked it off right as you were about to cum.

“‘M sorry, just don’t want you to cum before I get my dick in that pretty little cunt of yours.” He said, shuffling out of his sweats & boxers in the blink of an eye. You gulped as you saw his cock spring free from his boxers, Gee was pretty but, Mikey, oh Mikey. He was long, and thick, and so veiny and pink, he was so– pretty. You wished you could get him in your mouth, but that was for another day.

You felt his tip slide in between before he slid halfway in, waiting for you to adjust before bottoming out. He gave you a second before you gave him the nod and he bottomed out and fuck, he felt just as good as he looked. “Fuck, Mikey.” You breathed out, throwing your head back. Mikey took the initiative and started thrusting slow, languid thrusts. He loved the way the collar jingled with every thrust he took, that being the main motive of him speeding up. You moaned out his name as he slowly sped up, the rough pace most definitely capable of giving you whiplash.

Mikey whispered praises into your ear as he continued at the pace he set, the jingle of the collar he clipped around your neck bouncing off the walls of his small room. “Y’like that, my little puppy? Hm? You like your boyfriend’s baby brother fucking you like he never could?” He asked, and in the heat of the movement, you nodded. You could tell he was close and he could tell you were too, so he sped up the pace, his thrusts becoming rougher as he was close to breaking.

The second you came, he came right after. After he pulled out and laid down next to you, you got up and started to get your clothes back on. “You– You’re not gonna tell Gee, right?” You asked anxiously, sliding your shirt on without bothering to put your bra on. “And risk losing my fucktoy? Hell no.” He said, smirking cockily at you. But the smirk was wiped right off his face as the both of you heard a car door slam outside.

You made your way out of his room with a slight limp, seeing the door open to a very tired Gerard. “What’s got ya home so early, sugar?” You asked, “It was canceled last minute,” he groaned. He noticed your limp as you walked over to hug him. “Oh nothin’, just fell.” You said, knowing Mikey was watching you from his door. “Can we just lay down and cuddle?” He asked as you both walked down the hallway. “Sure, Geebear.” You said, walking past Mikey and seeing him smirk at you. And with that, you guessed, maybe he wasn’t as odd you assumed.

Do not translate, plagarize, or edit any of my work and post it to here, or another platform. If I see anyone has done so, you will be blocked and reported. XO

#mikey way #mikey way x reader #gerard way x reader #mikey way x reader smut #mcr smut #mcr x reader smut #mikey way smut #mikey way imagine #my chemical romance #mychem

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