#mikey way x reader fanfic

[2therazor]

hi :))) ive been craving content about basement era gee x reader

imagine him being just the sweetest nerd in the world experiencing love for the first time <3 so dear

could you write something about that? :)

maybe ill turn this into a full blown fic sometime but for now here’s some of my hcs >:)

- i just imagine he would be so awkward, especially when it comes to approaching people

- he probably had a few classes with you and was too nervous to even say anything but the second you said something to him he was so excited because he wouldn’t have been the initiator

- I feel like once you start to get to know each other he’d be so much more talkative, like was that even the same kid who sat next to you in your still life drawing class? and was he always this fucking cool?

- one day after class you saw him waiting for you by the door and he had finally gained the courage to ask you to “hang out” or yknow… pretty much a date, and you would happily oblige

-after a few coffee dates you quickly became inseparable, it was so nice to have someone that was so easy to talk to and shared the same interests as you

-gerard quickly became ���gee” and all of your friends would tease you about how giddy you became when you mentioned him

-gerard on the other hand, hadn’t really experienced feelings like these before and quickly began to realize; wow this is love! after days of pondering to his friends, he finally decided to ask you to be his significant other.

-he was always so attentive to you and so kind, which had kind of shocked you due to past (not so great) relationships

-you shared many nights in his parent’s basement in his room listening to countless records and CDs he had piled up on the floor, always finding each other with tangled limbs and shirtless by the morning :)

(holy shit guys I GOTTAAAAA turn this into a fic, just made myself all hot and heavy not gonna lie)

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Pretty please literally anything basement Gerard related I love my stinky greasy smelly wife

Dating Basement Gerard Way - Headcannons

Warnings: Some angst

A/N: hello anon! I'd love to write a fic about basement gerard bc that is one of my favorite eras but if you're wanting a fic you're gonna need to be specific about what you're wanting hehe. in the meantime... headcannons bc i've got so many for basement gerard it's insane.

Dating Basement Era Gerard Way :)

Basement Gerard is quiet and shy. Like the name, he basically only ever hangs out in his basement bedroom which is covered in star wars postered, board games, comics, and other nerd shit. It's just who he is (and you love him for it)

You guys probably met through Mikey or a mutual friend because Gerard never leaves his room. Maybe you were playing D&D with Mikey and he popped his head out from behind a door.

He definitely wasn't the one who asked you to be his SO but he definitely fell for you first.

You guys have a lot of sleep overs together it's insane. And they're definitely at your house because Gee feels a bit insecure about the mess of his room (and you have a bigger bed to cuddle in)

Lots of make out sessions and physical touching in the privacy of your bedrooms but outside and in public it's like you're brother and sister (nothing happens at all)

Board game nights with MCR! Frank and Ray on one team, Mikey is always forced to be on his own team, and you and Gee are in another team.

Comic book store dates - going to the local store and then picking out comics for each other and reading them together in bed.

Way too many late nights 😭 Gerard is such a night person – especially since he draws and writes songs late at night. He'll 100% rant to you about the Umbrella Academy

He’s the kind of boyfriend who makes you mix CDs with obscure punk, post-hardcore, and goth songs. Each mix has a meticulously hand-drawn cover.

He writes heartfelt notes and occasionally slips fragments of lyrics into your texts. You catch glimpses of yourself in his songs, often described in poetic, melancholic ways.

Watching old-school horror movies is a regular activity. He pauses mid-film to tell you trivia or point out iconic shots, getting animated and excited :)

//

Hope you liked this!!

REQUESTS OPEN

[misfits-in-motion]

pluck my strings

(ray toro x reader)

☾ — not proofread, not word counted, this is RAW everyone. first public story in years. crazy guys. trying to keep it gender neutral for my folks but,,, i am but a molar — ☾

summary: you're a guitarist coming into the 2000s emo scene. much like many others, you have just a basic knowledge of guitar. thus, feeling a little bold, you contact your friend with the most knowledge. and,,, yeah, maybe you just wanted an excuse to see him. when you finally do make it to the studio, you can't help but let your mind wander. can anyone blame you? he's just so close....

tw?: uhhhhmm not that i can think of. sliiiiight smut if you squint. really just suggestive and tense.

☾-☾-☾

⠀Your band had come in with a fever. One second, you were working job to job, trying to desperately cram your hobbies into your free time whilst also managing friendships and your ever-crumbling dating life. Then, one half-slurred, half-mumbled, half-thought hangout idea spewed by one of your close friends led to this moment. You had a show in exactly two weeks, and still only knew maybe five or so chords. Sure, you could switch between them pretty fast and come up with decent riffs and progressions, but nothing that would sound like more than a dead kennedys knock off on stage.

⠀While my chemical romance was making their way up the ranks, they still held you and your band in close regard. You and the guys had been tight since early 2002, and you even witnessed a lot of bullets being made. which, to say the least, showed off their talents. Out of the bunch, you tended to lean toward Ray for a number of reasons. He was quiet, but not terribly quiet. Quiet outwardly, but not in an introverted sense. Ray just reserved his words for when they mattered. You could appreciate that, along with his utterly charming smile, insanely good taste in movies, appreciation for music, among other things.

⠀It seemed everyone but Ray knew you had a total thing for him. Even when you called him up in the middle of your friend's mom's house, they snickered and made obscene gestures toward you deserving of a middle finger from hell, that of which you gave to them in full.

⠀Now, standing outside the recording studio, your previous idea felt a bit more ominous. Just as you were heading in, Frank was heading out. You bumped shoulders, that unmistakeable little laugh coming from the other guitarist.

⠀"Gotcha!" Frank grinned, turning to face you as you turned simultaneously. "Knew you were coming. Ray won't shut up about it."

⠀"Oh?" He'd piqued your interest. You couldn't help the smile on your lips, your head tilted a bit to the side as you watched Frank. Maybe you'd entertain this. "How are you so sure?"

⠀Frank playfully glanced off into the sky, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels with an excited little smile. "Oh, you knoooow," He shrugged, "Just the way he instantly got up and started making sure everything was juuust right for your arrival. I can recite it verbatim, dude. 'you know who called-? yeah! yeah. gonna help 'em with some guitar stuff- hey, do you remember where that one amp is-?'. Gay." Frank shook his head with a laugh.

⠀The image in your mind brought some warmth to your chest. He was that excited just to see you?

⠀"You guys are so gay. Look at that fuckin' smile on your face. Unbelieveable. Well, don't let me keep you from your date."

⠀Before you could protest, Frank had already turned and raised a hand in goodbye, leaving you outside the doors of the studio in the brisk air.

⠀You turned, looking at the doors with slightly wider eyes than a few moments before. Figuring the last thing you wanted to do was keep Ray waiting, you pulled open the door and walked inside.

⠀As usual, the smell hit you first. Wood, metal, a bit of sweaty musk, and a certain "clean" smell, but clean the way carpets are. It was warmer inside, but only warm enough to keep everyone from shivering considering the instruments and equipment were top priority. You walked down the hall, finally finding the recording room Ray was settled in. As if on cue, he looked up to see you through the window in the door. You smiled, and waved enthusiastically.

⠀Ray returned the smile, and you opened the door to realize there was no one else but him. Well of course there was no one else but him, but still it was a bit jarring to be alone with him. It was always a bit difficult to come to terms with the fact that you had the fattest crush on Ray. It was obvious to a pathetic point, hence the embarrassment.

"Glad you could make it. I mean, I was getting a little worried, y'know."

"Oh- pff, yeah. I had to walk here... No car, and all..."

"What-!?"

⠀The way Ray's jaw dropped made you nearly shrink.

"You walked here? Dude-! I-..." He let out a small laugh of disbelief, "I could have come picked you up. It's way too cold outside to be walking. Besides, what if someone kidnapped you?" Ray shook his head as he pulled two chairs close together, facing each other.

"I mean, I didn't want to bother you-"

"Oh shut up! You can always bother me. Always. Takes only a little gas to get to you. And if it meant you were gonna be warm, then that's what I would have opted for."

⠀Again, that same little smile crept up your lips along with a certain warm flush to your face. It was nice for him to worry so much. For him to care. It almost gave you a liiiiittle spark of hope that he felt the same.

⠀You pulled off your jacket, which Ray was quick to take. Just for a moment, his finger tips brushed along your biceps. The ghostly sensation was enough to raise instant goosebumps along your arms. And oddly enough, you couldn't help but think about how warm his touch was despite it being barely there. You wondered what it'd feel like for him to hold you with purpose. With his hands placed strategically, with meaning. Just for a second, you wondered what that warmth would feel like on the more private areas of your body. How would his hand feel clasping the back of your neck? Cradling the underside of your thighs snaking further up until he could cradle your ass in his palms? Would he be gentle? No. No, Ray would be gentle in theory. But he'd want to grab you. Hold you. Make sure you fit just right in his hands, slotted together like pieces of a puzzle.

"You ready?"

⠀You turned quickly. "Yeah! Yeah, sorry. Lot on my mind, I totally zoned out."

"All good... You okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

⠀You could have laughed if you weren't so tensed with both embarrassment and anxiety. Paralyzed with the realization that was now setting in: the man you had dumbly imagined a future with, sex with, dates with, and intimacy with was now going to be mere inches away from you while your mind strayed and tried to come up with every last sexual situation this moment could lead to. What a set up.

"No! No, it's nothing like that!" You gave a nervous laugh, waving your hand as you finally convinced your feet to move and walk you to the chair beside him. "Just... Nervous I guess. It'll be my first time playing on stage like that. I don't think high school band and choir count." You laughed again, softer this time. What you didn't see was the way Ray's lips curled up slightly at your more genuine laugh. The sound was sweet, no matter how much you tried to deny it. He loved it.

"That's okay. Here, we'll start simple? Okay? Just nailing down some scales and stuff? You gotta remember scales from band and all, right? These'll be your base blocks."

⠀You gave a few nods and desperately tried to focus on the guitar he placed in your hands. It only took a few seconds to realize it was one of his personal electrics. Ray carefully reached forward and guided your fingers into position. Again, you felt that same rush of heat. His hands were larger than yours, and now closely studying them, you wondered what they'd feel like in your hair. Running through it, or perhaps holding it tightly. Maybe even tugging on it.

"My fingers go here?" You quickly tried to end run your thoughts by paying attention, which was most likely important considering these lessons were meant to help you get ready for being in a proper band.

"Yeah. Just like that. See? You're already catching on."

⠀The little amount of praise nearly made your stomach jump into your chest. It was practically like he was trying to give your mind ammunition to fluster you with.

"Alright. You've done picking before, right?"

"Just some. I'm not too good, if I'm being honest."

"Don't say that. I'm sure you're great, but don't put yourself down. Try picking top string to bottom string. That's your low E to high E."

⠀You did as he instructed, and for a little while it was just that. Ray told you what to do, showing you little tips and tricks along with some position corrections and adjustments while you desperately tried to fight everything off in your mind. Now wasn't the time to debate whether Ray was into you. Now wasn't the time to question if Ray found you just as attractive as you found him. Attractive didn't even cut it.

⠀It seemed everyone knew about your 'thing with Ray', so you had spoken to your friends about it in the past. And boy, could you gush. Between his eyes that seemed to twinkle and shine whenever he was interested in something, to his smile that creased up his eyes in the most adorable way, and then there were his lips which were so plush and perfect looking. They paired perfectly with his cut jaw, which led down to an oddly hot-looking neck, and don't even get started on his broad shoulders-

"Are you really okay?"

You nearly jumped three feet in the air.

"Fine! Sorry, I'm so sorry... I think I'm just ready to move on. If you think I'm ready, that is."

"Yeah, I'd say you're pretty good on scales for now. I mean, if it comes down to it I can just give you another lesson. Meet back here again and polish everything, you know?"

"I... I'd really appreciate that, yeah."

"Great. Then we'll meet again for lessons. Until then, why don't we move on to some chord progressions?"

"Sounds good to me."

⠀Ray explained a few shapes, but it was a bit difficult considering he didn't have a guitar in his hands, too. He was moreso explaining them to you, guiding your fingers, and then having you strum. And for the simpler chords, it worked. But as they grew more complex, you could feel the gears slowing in your brain. Not to mention, being able to smell Ray's shampoo, deodorant, and cologne didn't help. You were growing desperate. Fast. You wanted to smell like him. Be so close, so enveloped in him, that your skin took to his cologne. Your skin smelled like his skin.

"Okay, this obviously isn't going amazingly, so let's try something a little different. I'm gonna move you, okay?"

⠀You nearly got up before you felt your chair move with you on it. Ray had tugged your chair over directly in front of his. So close you could see his shoes beside your chair. Then, his arms came from behind you. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other wrapped around your hand on the fret board. You could scream.

⠀He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off of him. Hold me. Hold me, not the guitar. Say whatever you'd like, just hold me, please. I want your arms to squeeze me.

⠀You decided to royally fuck any mental restraint now. You wouldn't feed into it physically, but there was no point restraining your thoughts now. God, this had to be purposeful. Friends don't hold each other gently by the waist, thumb absentmindedly stroking back and forth along the fabric of your shirt. He had to be moving in on you, and you weren't complaining a bit.

"Here. Your index, or first finger, goes here, second here, third here, and your pinky goes here. Hold that, and strum a few times."

⠀His voice had dropped lower. Slightly softer, but richer. He was speaking just to you. Just for you. Saying words he only wanted you to here. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around your side made your breath hitch slightly. You assumed it was because you strummed the chord beautifully.

"Sorry, is this okay?" Ray asked gently, his voice carrying a slight gravelly undertone from being lowered.

⠀Realizing what he meant, you flashed a reassuring smile. "You're okay." You nodded a few times.

"Good."

⠀Ray's hand shifted a bit lower, his grip hugging the side of your thigh as he moved in closer. His head was over your shoulder and you could feel his chest pressed against your back. If it weren't for the stupid fucking chair, you'd be able to be perfectly snug against his figure. And, fuck, did you want to be.

"Let's try another chord. You're doing great."

⠀Ray's lips nearly brushed along your ear. You could feel his breath warming your skin, even feeling his chest rise and fall. If you paid any closer attention, you would be able to tell that his heart was racing the same way yours was. Being so close to you was a blessing for Ray. One you didn't exactly know about, but could guess by now. His fingers guided yours again, and made a different chord. You strummed, and and a string buzzed obnoxiously, as if wanting to be seen.

"That's okay, I think it's your pinky. Shift it a little to the right. Strum again?"

You did as he directed.

"Perfect." Along with his praise, he gave a small rub and squeeze to the side of your thigh. There was a small, trapped sound that caught in your throat, whether out of surprise or enjoyment. Either way, you didn't see the smile plastered on Ray's face.

⠀Just as Ray was about to say something else, his phone buzzed in his back pocket and played a Bauhaus song.

"Shit- sorry. One second."

⠀Just as his warmth had wrapped around you, it was gone twice as fast. He had pulled away and gotten up, answering the phone in the corner of the room. If you listened close enough, you would be able to make out whatever he was saying. You opted to pluck mindlessly at the guitar, even practicing a few of the picking patterns Ray had taught you.

"Okay, sorry about that. Gerard called, wanted to know if I would be down to practice with everyone else. Which, in Gerard talk, means everyone else wants to practice and needs me too. But, uh, I wanted to ask you, first." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Ask me..?"

"If you didn't mind ending this lesson here. But not forever-! Just... For now. How does same time tomorrow sound?"

⠀You stood, leaning over to switch off the amp before you unplugged the cable and guitar. You handed the guitar over to Ray with a sweet smile, that of which he returned. It wasn't hard to see you were both seeing each other as newer people.

"It sounds perfect to me."

"Perfect. So I'll... Come pick you up, too?"

"I dunno. Maybe I'll... Walk here again. Just so that you'll have to do whatever you did back there to warm me up."

⠀Ray faltered for a moment, then laughed as he registered you addressing the moment. "Right. I'll do you one better. I'll pick you up a little early and make sure you're nice and warm in my car, yeah?" Ray took the guitar from you and put it away, safely in its case. He then grabbed your jacket, and held it open for you to slip your arms into.

"I don't think I can argue with that one." You grinned.

"Good. It's settled." Ray helped your coat on, then rested his hands on your biceps. He leaned down beside your shoulder again. "See you tomorrow?"

⠀Your face flushed again, this time, you turned slightly so that your lips were a few inches from his own.

"See you tomorrow."

☾ — mueheheheeeee i hope this was good. any comments are greatly appreciated, positive or constructive critcism, either way i'm down. ermmm debating a part two?? but idk it feels kinda finished to me ',:|. either way, hope u liked ittttt tags n shiz below but yeah :3 — ☾

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Mcr headcanon: y/n (gn) is starring in a horror movie and they’re character d!es in the movie.

Like they d!e in a HORRIBLE way, like horrifying way, how do the boys react to it?

TW: mentions of a fictional character's death, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy

Gerard

I'm literally on my way back from a Yosakoi festival after getting up at 3am (it's 9pm currently, I had 4 hours of sleep), and my feet have been in soaking wet shoes for the past 10 hours (I think they're starting to develop gills) because the rainy season decided to made a comeback and they had to cancel the fireworks because of that (at a festival that's called a "fire carnival" of all events), and you're coming with this? Not formatted properly because I'm literally sitting in a bus, that's driving through the Kyūshū night while I have glitter stones stuck to my face and two braids with Yukata-hair-accessories on my head.

WC: ???

Assuming Gerard knows what's gonna happen, he's probably looking forward to it. He's sitting in your living room, watching the screen attentively, the snacks you were sharing long forgotten as his eyes follow the action. He's leant forward, ellbows on knees, asking "oh, is this where it happens?" in an almost gleeful voice. Depending on how sudden the scene happens, he either gets jumpscared or just follows the story like the most interesting lecture. Either way he ends up laughing, and leaning back into the couch once it's over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead. "Well done," he'll tell you with his lips pressed to your forehead.

Would he watch that movie again: sure! It's a good movie! Next time he'd like to discuss the foreshadowing of the ending through the use of colours and the weather in the early scenes of the movie.

Mikey

Mikey loves horror movies, and that his s/o is staring in one is just a major plus to him. He has a lot of experience with horro movies, so he catches on pretty early that your character is going to die, even if you didn't tell him. He would low-key get excited about it. A voice in the back of his head tells him that 15 or 20 years ago the idea of watching a character that has the face of a beloved person die on screen would have terrified him, even though he was very well able to tell fiction from reality, but now he just enjoys the action, as he feels you cuddled into his side. He might even go as far as offer ideas for even more gruesome deaths, or ways to make the character's death even more painful for the audience.

Would he watch that movie again: absolutely! Has the potential to become a new favourite of his.

Side note: my seatmate just fell asleep on my shoulder. I shall not move until she wakes up.

Ray

Ray would generally be pretty chill about it. He grew up with horror movies too, and he is used to seeing you on screen, so he isn't all too bothered by it, but probably more bothered than Gerard. He doesn't show it all too openly, only pulls you in after the scene is over and praises your work. The only indication that he is more affected by it than he lets on is when he pulls you in a little tighter that night, holding you close to his warm body with his nose buried against your neck. (Seatmate just tried sitting up, and failed. Head is back on my shoulder.)

Would he watch that movie again: he wouldn't necessarily bring it up by himself. If he wants to see you act, there are other movies you're in, where you get a happy end, or at least don't die (he prefers watching those over watching your character die, even if he has to suffer through watching you kiss another actor or actress in front of the camera. It always makes him a bit more self-conscious watching you kiss those perfect people, even if it's not real, and he get a bit more clingy than usual for a few days afterwards.)

Seatmate sat up again, is leaning towards the other side now.

Frank

Frank plays is cool, but isn't. Like the others he has seen enough horror movies and has seen you enough on screen. He's even okay with your characters making out with other characters on screen, even though he does have a (well controlled) possessive side that usually tries to act up when some person is hitting on you. (Seatmate's head is back on my shoulder. She's so cute.) So he knows he shouldn't feel that pit in his stomach opening, it's just fiction after all, you're right here next to him, babbling about how hot the studio was that day while playing with his fingers. Still he closes his eyes at the last shot showing your character staring up right past the camera with lifeless eyes. He has watched your characters die on screen before, but something about the way this is portrayed hits different. "Whoa, that looked pretty real," he'd chuckle, his voice a little more shaky than he'd like to admit, "rad acting there!" Luckily you know him well enough to see through his facade. You know he's self-conscious about his feelings towards this scene, so you don't address it directly, but you scoot a little closer to him at night, and he takes the invitation, and wrappes you in his arms (which is rare, since he usually needs a little bit of space to fall asleep).

Would he watch that movie again: only if you asked and he couldn't come up with an excuse not to watch it. He'd rather not see this last shot of your face again.

And since nobody asked, you get a picture of our banner

[guilttrippinmp3]

you buy me orange juice

college au!mikey way x gn!reader // ~1.5k words

tags: pt 1./?, fluff, few year age gap, friends to lovers, late night studying, recreational drug use, falling in love, feat. roommate frank for a couple sentences

a/n: self-indulgent mikey college au i wrote for myself that's probably ooc but maybe someone else'll enjoy it too <3

the stuffy air of mikey's dorm room was thick with the scent of weed and the sugar-cookie-scented candle you'd gifted him for christmas. the white noise of typing was louder than the CD that'd been playing when you fell asleep, now turned all the way down so that it was barely audible. you rolled over onto your side, cracking one eye open to see mikey chewing on his lip, face lit up by his open laptop screen.

"what're you doin'?"

at the sound of your voice mikey's face lit up with a smile, teeth losing their hold on his bottom lip as he turned to look at you. his hands paused, hovering above his keyboard before he reached out to trace a fingertip down your forehead.

"hey, kid," he murmured softly. the nickname made you whine, eyes squeezing back shut when he laughed. you were only a few years younger than him, but the nickname had stuck from when you'd first met. he'd been so excited to be hanging out with someone who didn't know his older brother that he'd immediately played up the few years difference between you both. you didn't mind. it had made the transition to university easier, feeling like someone was looking out for you. "sleep okay?"

"mhm. i didn't mean to fall asleep," you huffed, pushing yourself upright and letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder. "thought you were gonna wait so we could smoke together."

"i'm sorry, i'm just stuck on this fuckin' essay," he sighed. "figured you didn't wanna get high just to watch me study."

"'s okay," you replied, the warmth radiating off of mikey already making you sleepy again. the clock in the corner of his laptop screen read two in the morning, which should've been a surprise but really wasn't. "you want me to run and get you coffee?"

"where're you gonna get coffee at this time?" he asked, his expression so clear in his voice you didn't have to look up to know he was raising an eyebrow at you.

"the gas station," you replied, like it was obvious. mikey hummed softly before shutting his laptop.

"okay, let's go."

"hm?"

"let's go," he repeated, shrugging his shoulder to get you to lift your head. he slid his laptop to the free space at the end of the bed, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"i can go for you, mikey," you tried, but you were smiling as you got up and reached for your jacket where it was thrown atop frank's bed.

"i'm not letting you go out alone at two in the morning," he shrugged, slipping his feet into the same beat-up converse he'd been wearing since you met him. now you were grinning, looking up from tying your laces to see mikey holding out a hand to you. he pulled you up, his warm palm against yours filling your stomach with butterflies. he let go as soon as you were upright, pulling on a hat just as you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink. "c'mon."

it was quiet outside, gusts of wind whipping around snowflakes that melted as soon as they touched the ground. mikey grumbled about his essay as you both walked, shoulders drawn up to his shoulders to keep the wind out of his face. his essay as he walked, shoulders drawn up to keep the wind away from his face as he rambled. you listened, even though you were still half-asleep, nowhere near awake enough to fully understand what he was talking about. he'd done the same for you on various occasions, listening to whatever was on your mind even if he couldn't do much to help (though more often than not he'd knock on your door a few days later, having done his own research on whatever was bothering you and ready to help out).

the warmth of the gas station enveloped you both as you walked in, poppy radio hits playing from the speaker as you both walked through the aisles. you grabbed a couple packs of cup noodles and mikey picked up a carton of orange juice before heading to the counter.

"can we get two coffees and a hot dog?" he asked the cashier, quickly pulling out his credit card before you could use yours.

"not fair, this was my idea," you hissed, hugging your noodles close to your chest so that he couldn't grab them and pay for those too. mikey just smiled, picking up two paper cups from the counter.

"i'll go fill these, just get the hot dog," he said, his smile growing into a grin when you shot him a glare. you didn't mind him paying, not when you could just bring coffee to his place the next time you showed up (and especially not when he glanced back at you, still smiling, while you paid for your noodles), but it was about the principle of it.

you took a bite out of the hot dog as you sidled up to him, resting your head against his shoulder as he stirred sugar into both your coffees.

"still sleepy?" he asked, humming softly when you nodded. "you can stay at my place if you want, i don't think frank's gonna be back until the morning."

"maybe," you mumbled, letting him take the hot dog from you. "thanks for paying."

"'course," was all he said, nudging the top of your head with his. "let's go, i gotta finish that paragraph tonight."

the walk back was sweet, like candy floss lingering on your fingertips sticky and bright pink. steam rose from the little gap in the covers over your coffees, taking on the orange colour of the street lights. you hummed softly to yourself, giggling when mikey joined in with you, singing along through a mouthful of food. the rest of the world was quiet and still, or at least as quiet and still as a student city ever got, except for the two of you. with the snowflakes falling it was almost as though someone had lowered the glass of a snow globe over you both, encapsulating this moment safe and sound where nobody else could reach you.

the door to mikey's room creaked as he pushed it open, and he immedately let out a groan.

"what?" you asked as you stepped past him, giggling when you noticed frank passed out in his bed. "oh, shit."

"fucker," mikey mumbled, setting his coffee down on his bedside table. "sorry, i figured he'd be too drunk to make it back."

"it's fine, i can walk myself back," you shrugged, kicking off your shoes and sitting down on the edge of mikey's bed. mikey nodded, quiet as he folded his jacket over the end of the bed, his hair unruly and sticking up when he pulled off his hat. "c'mere a second."

"what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice down as he sat down next to you. you reached out to smooth his hair back down, unable to hold back another giggle when he scrunched his nose a little. he didn't pull away though, letting you stroke every lock of his greasy hair back into place without complaint.

"there," you said, taking a sip of your coffee.

"you could stay over if you want, sleep in my bed. i got the juice you like and i'll wake you up in time for class," he suggested. when you hesitated he elbowed you gently, shifting to sit up with his back up against the headboard. "i can walk you back otherwise, don't worry."

you smiled, feeling warmth climb your cheeks.

"i can stay. if you're sure it's okay."

mikey smiled back at you, face lit up by his laptop screen as he clicked back to his assignment with a huff.

"c'mere then."

you let your jacket fall down onto the floor before you shuffled to sit beside him, slumping down so you could rest your head against his arm. as he typed away, deleting and retyping certain phrases over and over, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, the few sips of gas station coffee doing nothing to help keep you awake. you felt safe, tucked away against one of your closest friends with a CD playing quietly in the background, his arm moving slightly in time with each of his breaths.

you weren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, but you felt mikey take the coffee cup from where it was still in your hands, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze before he went back to writing. the last thing you heard was frank's bed creaking as he sat up, groaning softly.

"dude, how come i can't bring people over but you can?" he grunted, mikey's typing pausing for a moment.

"you're gonna wake them up."

"fine, whatever... shit, i think i'm gonna puke."

mikey's shoulder shook a little as he laughed, almost covering up the sound of frank shutting the bathroom door behind him. you smiled, shifting around a little so that your head was on the pillow beside mikey's hip. you could hear the smile still in his voice when he stroked the space between your brows with his knuckle and whispered softly to you.

"night."

[aussiexlovexaffair]

bf!michael ignores reader for his video games, but makes it up to her words: 1.5k request fill: immyluvsdean genre: fluff, a little angst but we recover! author's note: dear god, i hate the way i end my fics. god help me, and i'm not even religious. also i've considered making the ending smutty, so lemme know if you want an alt ending!!

The droning sound of his fingers mashing against the buttons of his controller had become all too familiar to you. The new Call of Duty game had been released a couple of days ago and Michael’s time— which was already dedicated to the constant promotional activities the band were being dragged into— was being consumed entirely. 

You partly understood his point of view. You had hobbies of your own that often made you overlook everything else. Michael cherished his downtime and you knew it. With so little free time, you imagined that something as simple as video games might feel like the greatest pleasure in the world, but it still left you feeling a little abandoned. 

Today was like no other this week. Coming home weary from his long shift at the studio, Michael sheds his shoes at the door and heads for the fridge— which the boys had collectively filled with various drinks instead of food. He grabs a beer from the shelf and cracks it open.

The sound echoing through the empty LA home was music to his ears after only hearing his own guitar for so long. Michael loved making music, but at some point, all he needed was silence. 

Similar to every other day, he heads for the couch and turns on his XBox. Michael reclines on the couch, legs up on the coffee table, and sighs quietly. His fingers seem to navigate his controller more masterfully than his fretboard as he selects his brand new game to continue playing. The frosted beer can rests between his legs against his thigh, but the grey sweatpants he wears protects him from the temperature. 

His mind seems to block out most of the sound around him when he plays. You’ve noticed this multiple times before— when the game turns on, the world turns off. His clunky headset doesn’t help his cluelessness either. 

Unbeknownst to him, you had slipped in quietly about fifteen minutes after him. Aware he was most likely stretching himself thin over his current projects, you figured you’d bring pizza over for him in one of the few moments he had enough time to eat a full meal. You set the pizza on the counter as well as a salad, and a tin of garlic knots onto the counter— moving empty beers and various junk-drawer worthy items to the side for enough space. You make your way towards the couch and stand behind him, placing your gentle hands on his tensed shoulders. Michael’s head swivels around for barely a second to ensure it’s you and not either a crazed fan or a band member trying to scare him. When he registers your face, he smiles shortly and relaxes back into the couch. “Hey, babe.” A smile forms on your face and you bend over the couch to press a chaste peck to his cheek. “Hi.” Your voice is sugary sweet, excited to see him after so many days in which he holed himself up in his studio. “I brought pizza and salad and garlic knots.”

You expect to see him immediately pause the game at the prospect of his favorite side dish. It was a guilty pleasure of his and despite not enjoying the scent of garlic lingering on his breath, if it made him happy— you were happy. “Cool.” Cool? That’s it? His eyes don’t stray from the screen as he leans forward a bit. You poke his hunched over form once again. “I was hoping that we could hang out today. We don’t have to do anything special, but like— maybe something together?” His brows scrunch together at the suggestion. You could always tell when he disagreed with something because his nose would crinkle up in distaste very obviously. 

“Aren’t we hanging out right now?” Michael’s voice seems dismissive and part of you wants to reprimand him for that, but he isn’t a child. He needs to suffer the consequences of his actions. 

“Yeah, okay.. we’re hanging out in the same house, but like… I wanna do something with you.” An audible waver in your tone gave away your hurt, but again, he didn’t seem too keen on pulling his attention away from Call of Duty. “Michael.” You called out to him. His headset was definitely at full volume. His ears were used to the blasting sound of instruments through bulky speakers at concerts, anything else sounded muffled to him.

“Michael..” Frustration becomes more apparent in your tone. He groans and leans back into the couch cushions, eyeing you in his peripheral. 

“What?!...” His response holds a bit more annoyance than you anticipated. “What do you want?!..” It was reasonable for him to be tired after a long day, but lashing out at the one person checking up on him was not. “You know what? Fine. Play your stupid fucking game. I’m leaving.” Arguing with Michael was impossible. He was stubborn and immature when he fought with someone. It was a losing battle you’d be fighting if you chose to stay and attempt to force him off the couch. 

As you turned on your heels to head towards the foyer to collect your things, you heard the couch being disrupted— slightly sliding back as he quickly stood up from the cushions. Michael slides his headset off of his ears and rests it around his neck. “You’re actually leaving?..” 

You scoffed at the audacity he had to ask that. Were you supposed to sit around waiting for him? You had much better things to do.

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving. You’re not gonna hang out with me or eat the food I brought or even talk to me, so I’m leaving.” Bending down to grab your shoes, you wrestle them on without untying them. The tactic doesn’t work as well as it usually does— perfect timing! You struggle to wedge your foot into the sneaker before Michael can approach you at the door.

His hands are gentle on your waist, tugging you backwards until he can properly wrap his arms around your torso. You bat him off once or twice to no avail. His chin props itself on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry.” The eye roll that he gets in return doesn’t go unnoticed. His brow creases at the reaction and again he advances. “Hey..” Instead, he leads you by your hand to face him, looking down at you with sincere eyes. His tattooed fingers graze over your forehand in a comforting manner. 

“Hey.” He repeats with a more concerned tone. When he picks up on the frown painting your face, you see a visceral reaction take place. His shoulders slump a little and he shifts uncomfortably at the sight. For a moment, you pause and look away from him to distract yourself. He recenters your gaze with a guiding touch. Michael’s voice is softer this time. “I’m sorry.. I’ve been really tied up with work and I’ve really been looking forward to this game. I’ve heard a lot of good things about it.” “I know.” You respond brusquely, not bothering to put much effort into hiding your disappointment in him. Michael purses his lips. “Thank you for bringing me food.” He murmurs into your shoulder as he embraces you slowly, not wanting to rush the apology and make it seem insincere. “I haven’t eaten an actual meal in awhile because of this stupid promo and the company seems to think that not being home hasn’t taken a toll on me and—” He takes a breath upon noticing that he is making himself tense. His mind focuses on the way you drape your arms over his shoulders and trace little hearts into the back of his neck. At first, the sensation sends goosebumps down his spine, but he finds himself leaning into the touch after a bit. 

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he begins to explain, letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “And I shouldn’t have prioritized the video game instead of you.” You nod along to his words, your bitterness melting away by the second. “That was stupid…” You mutter childishly under your breath. At the sound of your insult, he snorts a little. “It was very stupid.” He corrects you as he leads you into the kitchen, pressing feather-light kisses to your temple. Flicking open the pizza box, he grabs a slice and takes a bite, letting out a dramatic moan. “Oh my god, I think this is the best pizza I’ve ever had!..” You unbury your face from his clavicle and look behind you to see the pizza slice he’d just bitten into. The cheese was stringy and melty, the crust was perfectly crispy— and not to mention, it was stuffed. “Is it good?” You inquire hopefully.

“Mmmm-hm… best pizza ever.” Michael states matter-a-factly, smiling down at you and pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You gotta help me finish this, though. M’ not gonna eat it all.” With a smile, you stand on your tippy toes and kiss his lips, smiling against them before swerving and biting a huge chunk out of his slice. “Deal.”

[hearts4golbach]

Sober Thoughts.

Pairing:

TBP!Mikey Way x AFAB!Reader.

A/n:

I'm such a slut for drunk comfort, I can't write enough

not proofread

Warnings:

friends to lovers implied, feminine presenting reader, mention of alcohol/being drunk, bad breakup, depression mentions.

Word count:

1.8k

To say the last 2 months had been rough would be putting it lightly. Your boyfriend of almost a year had broken up with you over your mental health. This fact crushed you, sending you spiraling. You didn't contact anyone, didn't leave the house, and rarely got out of bed. Mikey hadn't seen you for a week since the breakup, so he decided to do something about it.

He took the spare house key from under your vase, knocking a few times before heading inside. He found you in bed asleep. He looked around your generally tidy room, which was now a reck. He didn't mind taking down the dirty dishes and putting up the clothes that crowded half of the bed. He wanted to support you in any way he could.

Mikey hadn't heard about the breakup from you, but from your ex himself. He was the type to post everywhere about how grateful he was that he was out of a 'toxic' relationship, so it didn't take long for him to find out.

He didn't want to push, though. For the first week, Mikey texted you nearly every day to see if you'd respond. You never did, so he figured it'd be better if he was there in person.

He crawled into the other half of the bed, making sure to leave you enough space as he lolled off to sleep (despite the fact it was only 7 pm).

You woke up a few hours later, groggily rolling over to see him sleeping peacefully next to you. You flinched, not expecting your best friend to break into your house. You didn't mind, though. A sense of comfort washed over you.

To be fair, you had seen all the texts he sent you. You barely had the energy to respond. Even then, what would you say? The fact that he had even bothered to come over meant the world to you. You knew no one else would try. Not that they didn't care, but they had better things to do. You were sure Mikey did, too, but he still put you first. It was rare. Not even your own ex would've done this. But Mikey did.

You didn't move. You just watched Mikey, as creepy as it was. The sounds of his soft breaths were comforting. You sat up, reaching for your water on your night stand. You relaxed your shoulders. They had been tense since the breakup. Hell, your whole body had been. You noticed that he had cleaned up a bit for you, making your heart swell.

After that night, you had seen Mikey nearly every day. He spent the night frequently, especially on the days he was busy with the band. If you thought you were already close with him, all the time you had spent together brought you even closer. Slowly but surely, you had started to get over your horrid ex. Mikey was your shoulder to cry on, kissing the top of your head as you cried in his arms. He was your rock while you were still trying to get back on your feat.

It became easier to leave the house. You would drag Mikey with you to go get groceries or simply to run to the gas station to get snacks for movie night. You weren't sure how he put up with you, but he did.

Eventually, you had begun to fall for him. You noted every small motion; the way his eyes would flicker down to your lips, how he rested his hands on your lower back, the way hugs were longer than before. You began to question if he felt the same way.

The best thing was, it felt right. He wasn't just a rebound. He was the possibility of something real.

Mikey generally kept you away from alcohol or any other addictive substance. He didn't want to drag you down that rabbit hole, considering you were much more susceptible to it due to your mental state.

He hoped that would stay the same, even though he invited you to a party. Everyone was going (all of his famous friends and the rest of the band), and he knew it would be a good chance for you to get out there again. The most human interaction outside of him was with the guys and at work.

You were skeptical at first, unsure about being around all of those random people. Mikey didn't pressure you, but offered the fact that it might be good for you to truly go out. The hopeful look in his eyes made you cave, and you had actually begun to look forward to it.

The night of, you had finally settled on an outfit. It was a black dress, one of your favorites. You also took the party as a chance to wear your favorite pair of heels (that you spent more money on than you would like to admit).

Mikey was there at 7:45 pm sharp, dressed in his usual party attire. He stepped out of the car and met you on the sidewalk. "You look amazing" he greeted with a hug. His hand rubbed your lower back softly. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," you smiled. It was a genuine smile, one that Mikey had got to see a lot more recently. "You look even better."

He grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the passenger seat. He opened the door for you and helped you in, then you were off.

The house wasn't far, roughly a 14-minute drive from your home. You and Mikey met Gerard out front, who greeted you with a warm smile.

"Hey! I'm so glad you came," he gave you a side hug. "It's nice to see you out."

You nodded. "I'm glad I agreed to come. Why would I miss a night out with my favorite people?"

He shrugged with a smile, shaking his head before walking inside. You and Mikey followed him in.

You examined your surroundings. It was pretty calm. There was music playing, mixed with the noise of a million different groups having conversations. You took a deep breath before following Mikey deeper into the crowd.

Neither of you went straight for the drinks, but you knew you'd get there eventually. When you drank, you didn't drink to get buzzed: You drank to get *drunk*.

Eventually, that's what you did. Mikey never left your side and opted not to drink since he was DD for you. He had picked you up, after all.

With your low tolerance, it only took a few shots to get you tipsy. It made you feel more alive, and it was much easier to speak to people, so you didn't see any problem with taking a few more.

By 10 pm, you were tipping over your own feet. You gripped onto Mikeys arm for stability as he made his rounds speaking to different acquaintances and friends.

Only 30 minutes later, you dragged him back to the makeshift bar in the kitchen. He looked at you skeptically as you poured another shot. "Are you sure you need that?"

You looked over at him, setting the bottle of vodka down and picking up your soda. "I mean," you paused, recognizing your slurred speech. "Not necessarily."

"I think we should go," worry laced his voice. "I'm getting tired anyway, and you're worrying me."

"Don't worry about me, Mikes." You gave him a tight-lipped smile.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Let's get you home," he insisted.

It took a lot of convincing to drag you out of the party, to his surprise. You said goodbye to the guys before reluctantly following Mikey out to the car.

Your eyelids were heavy as you rested your head against the cold glass of the car window. Your mind wandered, thinking of how kind Mikey was to you. Even if you could be a bit annoying, as proven in the past 30 minutes. He was always so gentle. You looked over at him, admiring his features that were emphasized by the moonlight.

He noticed this, glancing over before returning his eyes to the road. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," you blurted, returning your gaze back out the window.

He laughed softly. "Well, what about me?" He pulled into your driveway, placing the car in park.

You shrugged, clumsily climbing out of the car. Mikey met you halfway, catching you in front of the car. He carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you up to your front door.

You handed him your keys after a horrible attempt at unlocking your own door. "I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Why?" He asked, leading you up to your bedroom. "You didn't do anything wrong," he couldn't help but giggle as you tripped up the stairs, muttering encouragement along the way.

"Dragging you down with me," you laid on your bed, grateful to be home. "You deserve a lot better."

"You're amazing, N/n. You're not dragging anyone down," he reassured, slipping off your heels and tossing them on the floor. "You're the best best friend I could ask for." Your heart stung at the word 'friend.' You couldn't help your hurt expression, or maybe you didn't notice you had one, but Mikey did. "What's the matter?" He asked softly.

You watched him through tired eyes as he rummaged through your closet, looking for comfier clothing. "I love you, Mikey." You blurted, immediately regretting your words.

He turned around to look at you, his expression softening. You told each other you loved each other all the time, but he knew this one was different. He could see it in your face, the way your eyes held a hopeful gaze as you looked up at him. "I love you too, Y/n. But you're drunk, I don't want you to -"

"I love you, Mikes," you repeated, as if he hadn't heard you clearly the first time. "I have for a while now, I just.. couldn't tell you because I can't lose you and," you paused, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. I love you, okay?" He sat next to you on the bed, running his fingers through your messy hair. "I love you," he emphasized. Your heart skipped a beat as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away. "I want to talk about this tomorrow. I don't want you to make any decisions you'll regret right now."

His fear was understandable. You knew what he was thinking: if you agreed to date him right now, you'd simply break up with him in the morning. You knew that wasn't the case, but you didn't push it. You were content in that moment and that's what mattered.

You simply nodded, letting him unzip your dress. He helped you change into pajamas before crawling under the covers next to you. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight as if you'd slip away. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back softly as you let sleep take over.

[i-heart-emos]

guess who’s back motherfuckers, I’m a better artist finally got to see mcr play and am absofuckinglutely ready to get back into writing so PLS send sum requests over

[fruityfics]

~Blog Introduction~

Hi, I’m Felix (he/him) and this is my gayass fanfic blog🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Im mainly known on here for my other blogs: felix-floyd, lucifers-slutty-waist, bulletsforyourtrain, and geefrankieroway.

I’m a 20 year old trans man who loves reading fanfics, but hate that all the male ones are x fem!reader, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. So I’m dedicating this blog to writing fanfics that are x male!reader, x transmasc!reader, x male!oc, male character x male character, etc.

I can do SFW or NSFW

And I am planning on taking requests eventually!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

People/characters I plan on writing for:

Arcane

- Viktor

- Jayce

- Silco

- Vander

- Ekko

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss:

~ Lucifer

~ Alastor

~ Vox

~ Angel Dust

~ Husk

Game Grumps/NSP:

~ Dan Avidan

~ Danny Sexbang

~ Alex Taylor

~ Arin Hansen

~ Ryland Tate

~ Ryan Magee

My Chemical Romance:

~ Gerard Way

~ Frank Iero

~ Mikey Way

~ Ray Toro

~ Party Poison

~ Fun Ghoul

~ Kobra Kid

~ Jet Star

Bullet Train:

~ Tangerine

~ Ladybug

~ Lemon

Umbrella Academy:

~ Klaus

~ Diego

~ Viktor

~ Hazel

Other:

- Markiplier

~ Jeremy Jordan

~ Jack Kelly

~ Luigi (Mario movie version💚)

~ Bowser (also Mario movie)

~ Deadpool

- Beetlejuice

- Link

- Revali

~ Dylan Fuentes (Deadrising 3, look him up I love him)

~ And more if I feel like it🙃

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, a lot of these would be upon request and I could do more in those fandoms if requested, or even other fandoms if I know them. I wanna do a little bit of everything so everyone has a place to go for good mlm fanfics and not be triggered reading she/her pronouns when reading x readers <3 <3 <3

Stay tuned for the fics!

[artsometimesxx]

Prompt suggestions for one shots? Currently suck at writing fanfic since I'm literally blowing dust off my writing skills. Anything is welcome.

[2therazor]

smut prompt 8 x tbp era mikey way??!?!??! i feel lile tbp mikey is just so dirty nasty tbh like hes so dom idgaf

ignorance is your new best friend

"Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you."

(prompts originally from @delusionisaplace)

anon i could not agree with you more… so here we are!

w/c: 2,210k

content warnings: afab reader, rough sex, dom!mikey, brat reader, reader is a sound techie for the band lol, also mikey is kinda a jerk sorry, angry sex, kinda angst but a happy ending

a/n: (finally writing this like three months later.... oops.. sorry...) not proofread, so there may be some grammatical and mechanical errors. also don't rlly know if I like this one... oh well!

you are responsible for your own media consumption.

mikey had always liked to act oblivious. oblivious to your antics, more so. all day you'd been following him around backstage like a sad dog wanting attention, but still, he paid no mind.

was he ignoring you on purpose? trying to push your buttons? trying to see just how far he could get before you would fall right back into his arms (and bunk) for the night.

you tried not to dwell on it, after all if something was wrong mikey would say something, right? you dragged your feet around backstage to the catering table, picking at the stale sandwiches left behind.

"jesus, what's wrong with you dude?" a voice came from behind you, and from none other than frank, possibly the most nosy friend you've had in your life.

you quickly turned around, trying to hide the empty feeling that mikey was ignoring you. you had been sleeping together for some time but had never really had the "what are we?" conversation. you had kind of hoped it stayed that way though, you were just a sound tech for the band, but had known mikey for years.

shaking your head you murmured, "i'm fine frankie, besides it's not really your business anyways" slowly walking away from the catering table, head down. you loved frank, but you didn't really have the energy to gossip about your tragic sex life at the moment.

before you could walk even three steps away, a foot was placed in front of yours, causing you to look up, face to face with frank.

"you're annoying, you know that right?" his smile wide and as stupid as ever. you really weren't getting out of this one, were you?

surrendering your pride, you take a deep breath in, then sigh. "it's mikey, he's kinda just been ignoring me all day. it's pissing me off, and he won't really tell me why either. i dunno, I just wish he'd talk to me about it instead of acting like I'm some plague-ridden peasant or something."

frank looks at you a moment, studying your expression. for a moment, it looks like he's about to say something. then he just reaches out, puts his hand on your shoulder and calmly says: "it's not you, I promise. mikey just has a lot of things he needs to tell you, but instead of telling you, he likes to pretend his feelings will just magically disappear. but he's kinda a fucking idiot so…" he trails off then slowly pulls you into a hug.

you could probably cry, but whatever deep dark secret frank just shared was way too cryptic. what did he mean it wasn't you? what did he mean mikey had things he needs to tell you? it was all too confusing. god you wish mikey would just grow up and tell you instead of ignoring your advances all day. nonetheless, you let go of frank and wipe a small tear forming in your eye. "thanks frank."

"yeah," he rubs your back a bit. "just don't tell mikey I told you, or you might find my guts by your door tomorrow morning." he grinned, dragging his feet on the concrete behind him.

"five minutes everyone!" a loud voice rings from behind you. sound check was done, now it was time to sit through an hour and a half long show and pine over mikey for most, if not all of it.

you sigh, heading to your side of the stage. this was going to be the longest hour and a half of your extremely short lived life.

the show had come to an end, and you weren't really upset anymore, just very very bitter. you needed to talk to mikey or you would drive yourself insane the rest of the tour. so as soon as he stepped off stage, damp and sweaty hair, you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him aside.

he glanced down at you, a smug look on his face. "hi.." he started.

"why have you been such a dick today mikey? you've been ignoring me since we got off the tour bus, and you won't even tell me why?"

again, he just looked down at you and smiled cockily. "you like it when I play games though don't you? you love having to beg for my attention," he leaned down so his mouth was in the shell of your ear "you love having to beg for my cock, don't you?"

fuck. he was such a fucking asshole. this is the whole reason he was doing this? to piss you off so you'd fuck him?

"grow the fuck up mikey. if you have something to say to me just say it. we're not 16 anymore, ignoring so i'd fuck you is beyond low."

"that's funny you say that," his hand reaches for your chin pulling it up so it faces him. "because you fall for it every single fucking time" before you can retort, he pulls you in for a kiss. not a tender one either, quickly opening your mouth with his tongue and grabbing you by the waist. your knees are weak, your heart is beating fast. he's right. you fall for it every goddamn time.

he pulls away for a second, setting his bass on a stand. "come with me to the dressing room, we have like 20 minutes max"

annoyed and horny, you oblige, quickly pushing your way past the rest of the sound crew and a few other unrecognizable faces.

as soon as the door swung open, you didn’t even have time to think before mikey pressed his lips against yours. the whole situation was so juvenile. sneaking off to make out, him ignoring you so you’d fuck him. you tried to ignore the pain in your chest as he slid his knee to your core.

you stifled a moan at this, grabbing his hair, pulling him in harder. if he wanted to get you worked up, he was gonna have hell to pay.

“god, you’re so pretty like this.” he breathed heavily into your neck after feverishly breaking the kiss holding you two together.

“are you gonna keep teasing or are you actually gonna get me off mikey?” you pushed your pussy further onto his leg, grinding on him as he casually left marks that everyone would defininintely give you shit for later.

“fuck,” he stuttered, moving his hands to remove your jeans finally.

you smiled lightly, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. you moved your hand to grasp his black locks once again, just to bask in the small noises he made, just for you. a ping of jealously hit your chest, just the thought of him making these sounds for anyone else made you want to fuck him harder.

he swiftly took off your underwear after making a show of taking off your jeans, pressing two fingers inside of you before you even had time to think.

“only i get to see you like this, you’re mine” he whispered in your ear as he worked another finger inside of you, slowly moving his thumb around your clit.

that sentence alone almost had you falling apart on his skilled fingers. you shuddered a breath at his possessiveness, knowing that deep down, no matter whoever the fuck else he was sleeping around with, you were his regardless.

“mikey please” you pleaded with him, not even really sure what you were begging for at this point.

“what baby? what do you want from me?” he spoke softly, genuinely sounding sincere. it broke your heart a little more than it should’ve, honestly.

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but bit your lip as hard as you could trying not to cry.

“shh… it’s okay baby. i’m sorry for being a dick all day, i’ll give you what you want. does that sound okay?” he brought a hand to your cheek, stroking it slowly.

you gulped quietly, nodding your head back at him.

“just- let me eat you out first. please?” he went to kiss your neck again, sucking down another bruise on your skin.

you nodded, trying really hard not to cry this time. he was so caring and sweet, even when you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you over the dressing room table.

he picked you up again, your legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you over to the dresser to prop you up.

once he set you down, you looked down at him as he started working you open once again, with his tongue this time. and god did he know how to use his mouth. you briefly locked eyes with him as he worked he licked a stripe up your pussy, occasionally adding a finger. your hand flew to his hair as he added two fingers and worked you open with his tongue. he was absolutely perfect in the dim glow of the dressing room.

“fuck mikey, i-i’m close.” you breathed heavily as he showed no signs of stopping.

“then come. come into my mouth baby, please. please i want you so bad.” he whined.

and just hearing his pleading, your hand gripped his hair tighter as you shook above him. he wasted no time undoing his belt and you couldn’t even register he had too, taken his jeans off as he pressed gentle kisses and lovebites up your thighs.

he grabbed a condom from his discarded jeans, quickly rolling it on and stroking himself a few times. he captured your lips in a kiss, brushing a stray strand of hair from your eyes.

“hey. you’re so beautiful.” he laughed

“yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “are you gonna fuck me now or what?”

“maybe if you’d stop being such a brat.” he was closer to your face now, slowly taking your features in.

“what, are you gonna make me beg again?” you scoffed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“nope. just gonna fuck you until you cry baby.” and with that, he pushed into you, hard.

your breath stuttered as he continued to pound into you at an unforgiving pace, he was really serious about holding that promise, wasn’t he?

“fuck baby, you’re so tight, open your legs… wanna see you,” he grunted as he bit your shoulder lightly.

you moaned again, pushing him in further with your legs.

he didn’t slow down at all, fucking into you at a brutal pace. “tell me you’re mine. tell me you belong to me.”

“fuck, i’m yours mikey. all yours, please,” you whined, feeling yourself tighten around him.

“and who’s the only one that gets to see you like this?” he added, not faltering his pace as he continued to pound into you.

“you, you and no one else mikey-” you felt the tears that you held back earlier, threaten to fall again. you wanted to tell him so badly that you loved him, and you had secretly hoped he had felt the same way about you. sure, you were his during sex but the thought of being his all the time was making you cry.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty when you cry for me baby,” he wiped your tears gently with the back of his palm. “-m, really fucking close baby.” he added as he connected his lips to yours again.

“mikey please come-” you broke the kiss to say, letting more tears fall from your eyes.

“fuck!” he threw his head back as you felt him twitch inside of you. you came shortly after seeing the dark bruises you left on his neck.

after a few minutes of you both recollecting yourselves, mikey pulled out throwing the condom in the trash a few feet away. he slowly inched towards you again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“i’m sorry for being an asshole earlier, i just- sometimes i don’t know how to deal with my feelings and-” he blurted out.

“mikey,” you cut him off and said sternly.

“is this you scolding me or?” he started

“god,” you laughed at the absurdity of the situation, running your hand through his hair. “mikey, i like you. and i’m really tired of pretending that i don’t because it genuinely hurts me every time we hook up. i want you, i want to be with you..”

“fuck. i thought you would never say that to me. i thought that maybe if i was just a dick to you my feelings would go away but obviously that was terrible of me.” he caressed your cheek again, looking into your eyes.

“i love you mikey.” you said without thinking, your heart stinging after, scared he wouldn’t say it back.

“i love you too. i’m tired of sneaking around with you, i want to take you out and show you off, you know? i think i’ve been in love with you a little longer than i’d like to admit…” he smiled as he ran a hand through your hair. “i’m still gonna be mad at you for this, just so you know.” you smiled as you pulled him in for another kiss. he returned the kiss, sliding his hand down to your waist. and just like that, your doubts and worries washed away.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

heyyy um so i was wondering if u could do a version of ur jealous fic (gerard x ieros reader) but with Frank and a mcr f!drummer plss 🤞🏼

Drummer Girl - Frank Iero x Drummer!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy

Word Count: 1222

A/N: Lots of requests now that I've posted about not having requests lmao here's an mcr request for youuuuu uwu

It was one of those nights where the air felt electric, the stage lights were burning hot, and the energy of the crowd was almost overwhelming. The show had been one of our best—I could feel it in my bones as I pounded out the last beats of “Helena,” sweat dripping from my brow as Gerard held that final note with his whole chest. My hands were sore, my arms ached, but it was worth it.

As soon as the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, I stood up from my drum kit, grinning like an idiot. Frank was the first to bounce over to me, his guitar still slung over his shoulder, and pulled me into a quick, sweaty hug.

“I love you!” he shouted over the noise. His voice was raspy from screaming backup vocals, and I could barely hear him, but the wide smile on his face told me everything I needed to know.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I shot back, smirking.

Frank gave me a mock glare before flipping me off and jogging toward the side stage where the rest of the guys were already heading. My heart did a little flip as I watched him go. We'd been a thing for a few months now, though we’d been careful to keep it quiet. Dating your bandmate wasn’t exactly a recipe for a drama-free life, but with Frank? It felt worth it.

Backstage was a whirlwind of chaos, as usual. Crew members were running around packing up gear, and the band was basking in the post-show glow, sweaty hugs and pats on the back all around. I grabbed a bottle of water and leaned against a wall, letting myself decompress for a minute. That’s when Jason, one of the tech guys who’d been with us for a while, came over.

“Hey, killer set tonight,” he said, offering me a fist bump.

“Thanks, Jason,” I replied, bumping his fist. “You guys made us sound amazing out there.”

He grinned, his cheeks a little red. “You make it easy. Honestly, though, you’re insane on those drums. Ever thought about doing a solo project? I’d kill to mix for you.”

I laughed, brushing off the compliment, but before I could reply, I felt a presence at my side. I turned my head to find Frank standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he said shortly, his eyes flicking to Jason. “We’re heading to the bus soon.”

“Cool, I’ll be there in a minute.” I turned back to Jason, who looked like he suddenly regretted coming over. “Anyway, thanks again. You’re the best.”

Jason gave a quick nod and backed off, muttering something about cables needing wrapping. I watched him go, confused, before turning back to Frank.

“What was that about?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but his jaw was tight, and his eyes were still fixed on where Jason had been standing.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” I pressed.

Frank finally looked at me, his eyes sharp. “Do you really think it’s cool to let that guy hit on you right in front of me?”

I blinked, taken aback. “What? He wasn’t hitting on me. He was just being nice.”

Frank let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, okay. Sure. ‘You’re insane on those drums,’” he said, mimicking Jason’s voice in a way that wasn’t remotely accurate. “You don’t see it?”

I crossed my arms, feeling my own irritation bubbling up. “No, I don’t see it, because it wasn’t there. And even if it was, so what? It’s not like I’m interested in him.”

“That’s not the point,” Frank snapped, his voice rising. “The point is, he shouldn’t think he can talk to you like that.”

“Like what?” I shot back. “Complimenting my drumming? God forbid someone notices I’m good at what I do.”

Frank’s face fell slightly, but his shoulders were still tense. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “Frank, you’re being ridiculous. Jason’s just a friend. He’s never crossed a line, and he’s not going to. Can we not do this right now?”

For a moment, Frank didn’t say anything. Then he muttered, “Fine. Let’s go.”

The walk to the bus was tense and silent. I could feel the frustration radiating off Frank, but I was too annoyed to try and break the ice. By the time we got on the bus, the rest of the band was already settled in, Gerard and Ray playing some weird card game while Mikey scrolled through his phone. They all looked up when we came in, their eyes flicking between us like they could feel the tension too.

“Everything okay?” Gerard asked cautiously.

“Peachy,” I said, forcing a smile before heading to the back lounge. I needed space, and I didn’t trust myself to keep my cool around Frank right now.

I sat down on the worn-out couch and leaned my head back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.A few minutes later, I heard the door creak open. I didn’t need to look to know it was Frank.

“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.

“Door’s open,” I replied, not opening my eyes.

He hesitated before sitting down next to me, not too close but close enough that I could feel the heat of him. For a while, neither of us said anything. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was small, almost fragile. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him. He was staring at his hands, his fingers twisting the rings he always wore.

“Why did you?” I asked softly. “What’s really going on, Frank?”

He sighed, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I get scared, you know? You’re amazing, and you’re gorgeous, and people notice. And sometimes I feel like it’s only a matter of time before you realize you could do better.”

My heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice. I reached out and put my hand on his, stilling his nervous movements.

“Frank, that’s not going to happen,” I said firmly. “You’re the one I want. Not Jason, not anyone else. You. Okay?”

He finally looked at me, his eyes soft and filled with something that looked like hope. “Okay,” he murmured.

I leaned in and kissed him gently, letting the touch of my lips say everything I couldn’t put into words. When I pulled back, he smiled, a real one this time.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Just don’t do it again,” I said, but my tone was teasing. “Or I might have to start throwing drumsticks at you during practice.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy, and the tension that had been hanging between us finally broke.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and bad jokes, and by the time I fell into my bunk, I felt lighter. Frank might have his moments of insecurity, but so did I. And as long as we could talk it out, I knew we’d be okay.

Because at the end of the day, he was worth it too.

//

REQUESTS OPENNNN

[misfits-in-motion]

✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂

hyello !!! tis tooth again !!!! i wanted to share some guidelines abt writing/fanfics etc !!!

☞ requests are: open!! ☜

who i will write for:

- mcr

- fall out boy

- more tba

what i will write:

- fluff

- angst

- smut/nsfw

- most of anything tbh

- hcs/blurbs/shorts mostly

what i would like upon request:

- any deets you can give me !!

- masc, fem, nb/what pronouns

- scenario, obv

- im open to polyam requests too !!! basically anything !!!

KEEP IN MIND !! :

- i do not have a set writing schedule

- i do this for fun, and may want to stop

- my skills are debatable !!

- HOWEVER i am willing to work with peeps !! i just like to be silly !!!

perhaps more tba, but im feeling creative and shiz so yeah !!!

- tooth out

✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂✄✂

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Away From Preying Eyes - Mikey Way x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just- I can’t help but wonder-”

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

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

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

“(Y/N), Mikey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Do you really want us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too, Mikey.”

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

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

Tags:

@alexstyx​​​ @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty

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can't really tag you fore some reason, sorry if this didn't work: @butterflycore @cmtryghoul

you got tagged bc you made the mistake of interacting with the announcement:

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[aussiexlovexaffair]

first time drinking with bestfriend!mikey words: 1.7k request fill: 🦊 genre: fluff! tw: drinking, your mother becomes the spawn of satan at the end :) and references to cheesy 5sos quotes author's note: i used good girls mv michael for inspo! also 600+ notes and 50 follows!!! yippie!! i love y'all!!! How he managed to sneak a clinking backpack into the house perplexed you more, though. You could hear him coming down the hallway. Before he even got to the door, you swung it open and jerked him into the bedroom, slamming the door behind the boy. “What are you doing?!.. Couldn’t you have wrapped the bottles or something?!...” 

Michael chortled a little at your paranoia. Setting the bag on top of your bed, he casually maneuvers in front of your mirror, ruffling up his bleached blond hair. “That’s too much workkkk…” He mumbles in concentration. “Besides, I got them in here— didn’t I?” His eyes meet yours through the mirror.

“Yeah, but what if they found them?” You stress, crossing your arms as you sit beside the bag. “I’d be grounded for life. Forever.”

“I’d still come over. We’d have our own fun here— no need to go out.” He retorts quickly. “They’d ban you from seeing me. No more Michael.”

“No more Michael?” You shake your head softly, your lips pulled tight in a grimace. “No more Michael...” Licking the tip of his finger and smudging the eyeliner coating his water line, he pouts. “Guess I should be more careful then.” The blond glances over to you through glassy eyes. “I don’t want that.” “Neither do I.” Your hands work at the zipper of the backpack until it gives. The beer bottles were laying at the bottom of the bag, disturbed from the walk over. Tossing one to him, you grab one for yourself and open it with the bottle opener he packed. “Have you ever drank?” He shrugs, “I’ve had goon with friends back home, but nothing else.” He gives you a side eye when he hears you laugh. “What are you laughing at?” He whines into the bottle as he takes a swig.

“What is goon?” You cackle out through gasped breaths. He smiles mischievously. 

“A philosophy.” Michael scoffs like the term is commonplace. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you back to Aus with me for the holidays and show you.” Your eyes trail down to the drink in your hand. You swirl it around and raise it to your nose to smell it. “You’ve never drank before? Like ever?” He’s given a head shake as a response.

“I haven’t had the chance to.” Pausing, you lift the beer to your lips and take an experimental sip. Michael leans in expectantly, waiting for your reaction. Your face scrunches up in distaste. “Eugh!” He giggles and recoils along with you as you reel back at the flavor. 

“It’s not that bad. You’re being dramatic.” He shoves your shoulder gently. He takes another drink for himself from your bottle. “I think it’s pretty great. But if you don’t like it, I got other stuff in the bag.” Peering into the pouch, you see two other types of alcohol: Smirnoff and Jack. You couldn’t complain though, you weren’t picky and you couldn’t be in your position. 

“What’s this one?” You raise the bottle of clear liquid to his eyes. 

“Vodka. It’s green apple flavored, though.” He answers as he raises his beer to his lips once again. You couldn’t imagine how he actually liked it— it was bitter and bland.

“Lemme try it.” He nods and takes tiny plastic cups out of his bag, setting them on your bedside table and unscrewing the cap of the vodka. He pours a bit into the red cup until it reaches the brim. “I can’t just drink it like beer?” He snickers, reeling back to look at you over his shoulder. “No, dipshit, you take shots.” Rolling your eyes at him, you slap him on the back. He keels over and collapses to the floor dramatically. 

“Fine, then you have to take a shot with me.” Shrugging, he pours another and hands it to you. He gives you a sly smile, excited to be experiencing this with you. “Bottoms up.” He knocks back the drink in tandem with you and instantly, you both are covering your mouths. The flavor didn’t dull the rubbing alcohol taste of the drink. “Holy fuck, that is awful!” You shake your head and cough. “No way. I’m not drinking if all of that shit tastes like that.” You toss the plastic cup into your trash can under your desk. “Uh— no way. You have to drink with me. You can’t just watch! We’re gettin’ legless, remember?” Crossing his arms, he travels back to his beer bottle and chases it down to remove the flavor. “Ugh.. fine.. But no more of that stuff. I’ll try the whiskey.” The cap on the Jack Daniels unscrews easily and after about half an hour, the both of you were a few drinks in. Being new to the feeling, it was hitting you both much harder than you anticipated. “Wanna do body shots?” Michael suggests cheekily, holding a plastic shot glass out for you. You giggle and nod, placing it wedged between your chest. Admittedly, you had to press your elbows together to keep the cup in place, but you were too wasted to care about being insecure and he was too drunk to even consider judging. Stooping over your body, he wraps his lips around the cup and throws his head back, wincing at the taste. 

“Shit— that was hot!” His tongue pokes out at the comment you make. Meanwhile, he grabs the bottle of Jack by the neck and nods towards the bed. 

“Lay down, I wanna pour a shot into your mouth.” His nose crinkles up as he suppresses loud giggles. 

“No way, you’ll waterboard me!” Your hands wave to signal you wouldn’t be trying that, but he raises his eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. “I mean— it would be pretty coolllll…” His eyes dance around the room coyly until you relent and lay down, your head at the edge of the bed. Quickly, he climbs onto the mattress beside you and taps the side of your face. “Open up.” You shake your head, barely containing your laughter. “C’monnn!.. Open uppp!...” He repeats. You both can barely look at each other without cracking smiles. Your lips part and you stare up at him playfully. “Just like— don’t die.” With knitted eyebrows, only a noise of concern leaves you before the liquid floods your mouth and he’s wiping the lip of the bottle on your lip. “Swallow.” He commands, using his free hand to close your jaw. You obey him without a question, nearly hacking up a lung when it almost slides down the wrong pipe. “Didn’t know you rolled like that.” You wheeze out as you catch your breath. His index finger collides with your ribcage. Poking you repeatedly, he laughs loudly at the dirty innuendo. “You’re dirty when you drink!” He shimmies his shoulder forward, his hand batting at your shoulder. “Well you’re dirty when you’re sober.” With a huff, his jaw unhinges childishly and he tackles you after letting the bottle rest on your nightstand. You squirm under his grasps, Michael’s slender fingers finding your most ticklish spots.

You needed to retaliate. 

Grabbing him by the shoulders, you sling yourself over until you’re straddling his lap, jamming your fingers in the crook of his neck. He lets out a girly squeal that immediately ceases your activities. A snort coming from you follows the silence and he covers his red face. His laughter was filled with an embarrassed tone. “I don’t know what the hell that was.” His hands raise to cover his face, but you quickly grab his wrists to stop him. “You sounded— you sounded like me!” You hound through drunken cackles. Taking the opportunity, he flips you back over onto your back and crawls on top of you, holding you in place by your shoulders. Your laughter dies down after a bit and the tension in the air suddenly becomes very apparent. Your eyes travel down to his rosy lips and his graze over your figure underneath his. Leaning in, he tilts his head to the side and dips down.

But then the floorboards outside of your door creak. The hallway light flickers on, the brightness shining through the crevice underneath. 

And of course, just your luck, the door swings open slowly before you and Michael have any time to untangle your limbs or hide the half-empty bottles. Your mother stands in the doorway. She makes direct eye contact with Michael, who is still pinning you down and lined up perfectly to kiss you. Faking a friendly smile, she takes a deep, shuddering breath in and closes her eyes. “Michael Clifford…. get off of my daughter.” Her eyes open and he can see the fire in her eyes.

Dear God. He scrambles up, clearing his throat and shoving a pillow over his lap. It was like all of the alcohol had been washed from his system. “Yep— won’t happen again, Ma’am. I’ll—uhm— I think I’ll take the couch.” He stands up and stumbles towards the door, glancing over his shoulder to watch you as he leaves. She places a gentle hand on his lower back and directs him towards the staircase, staring daggers into his back. 

“I think so too.” She grits out, her head shooting over to glare at you. “I’ll deal with you in the morning.” Narrowing her eyes, she follows the boy down the stairs, leaving you laying in silence surrounded by the bottles of alcohol. Your arms awkwardly tuck under the comforter beside you and you listen to the sound of your mother, who had been given permission by Michael’s mother to discipline him if he needed it, chewing him out for his behavior. And then you heard her footsteps returning upstairs and heading towards your bedroom again. When she showed her face again, the shadows casting an evil presence over her face and her eyes fuming with the fires of hell, she didn’t need to speak a word before you knew your fate. 

You were grounded for life.

[hearts4golbach]

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cheers peers!