#my chemical romance x reader
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s1ushyz · 11 months ago
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'Tis the season for some festive red hair gerard!
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all2angels · 7 months ago
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i think gerard is so cute especially when they were like a senior in highschool. but i know if i went to high school with him i would think hes a freak and that really does smth to me. he would be smelly and draw ppl during class, and just idk. need her bad
OMG this was so long ago i totally thought i already posted smthn with this ask 😭
tw dubcon? oblivious!gerard, youngeerr!gerard
NO BUT FR! whenever i see his high sch pics i just 😫😫😫 he looks like the nerds i wanted to fuck in high school like actually...
have you guys read about that interview where gerard talks about his first kiss and he said he wasn't an initiator and also "i ended up obviously really being more into that sleezy, dirty type thing. -i was way into it." yea. yea...
you wanted him to ask you to hang out, but he never seems to get the hint so you just flat out ask if you could come over to his house.
and then there's his horrible attempt to clean his room (which meant he took all of his stuff and moved it to one corner.) and you could smell the axe perfume gerard showered himself in.
a little later, you try to make a move on gerard, little touches here and there, accidental brushes of initmate places, and he seems to just brush off your not-so-innocent touches. ugh, he was so clueless.
ok fast forward a little later and you're giving him a full on handjob while iron maiden plays in the background. he didn't really tell you to stop, nor did he say to keep going? so you guessed he liked it. he was a mess, biting his lip and squirming a bit.
and he came a little too fast, you thought it was cute but it got literally everywhere, including your clothes and arm. he was way into it.
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oldiesstationlover11607 · 4 months ago
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Wow...I loved Opener! Can you write with Gerard in 2019? Gerard is dating the reader, but he feels insecure because she is younger.
Thank's for liking it! I tried my best with this one - hope you like it!
What's Wrong? - Reunion!Gerard Way x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Age Gap (legal)
Word Count: 648
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‘My Chemical Romance Announces Reunion,’ the headline flashed across almost every post on my Instagram feed. 
“Well, they finally know,” I said, looking up at Gerard. He sat up in our bed pulling me in close. 
“Yeah, they do,” he sighed. I could hear my phone buzzing with notifications from our close friends and family about the band’s news. They were the few people that knew about Gee and I’s relationship. 
“What’s wrong? I thought you were excited to make music with the boys again,” I turned to face him straight on. I could tell he was keeping something from me, his energy was off. 
“Huh?” He seemed to be in his head, something that happened a lot with him. 
“I said, what’s wrong?” I got up out of bed and grabbed my sweater, ready to grab Gee his morning coffee. He let out a loud sigh, running his hands over his face and stretching out his arms. 
“It’s nothing, Honey.”
“Do I need to call Mikey?” I was starting to get worried. Gee always communicated how he felt with me–it was what made our relationship work. I wasn’t prepared to let that change now. 
“I said it’s nothing!” He snapped, making me flinch. I turned around and walked out into the kitchen to make him a coffee, waiting for him to get out of bed. I couldn’t possibly imagine what the issue was. He didn’t seem anxious about being back on stage, or writing music for My Chem again, or even about being on a long tour. Mikey had told me Gerard had always struggled being away from home when on tour but I didn’t think that would be the issue. With my head hanging I placed his coffee on a coaster on the counter. 
“I get it if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong but I’m here if you need me,” I muttered. Gerard took a sip of his coffee, letting out a relaxed breath. 
“Did you know that you’re 18 years younger than me? You’re 27 and I’m 45,” he spoke. Of course I knew that, it had never been an issue between us before. I didn’t know why it was an issue now. I nodded along, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t think you should come on tour with me.”
“What?” I definitely wasn’t expecting that. 
“You heard me Y/N,” he announced. He had to be joking, of course I was going with them. “I love you, you know I love you. I just–I don’t want the fans to have an issue with our relationship, all the others are married to people their age and if you get upset or hurt–” Of course he was comparing us to the others. I couldn’t believe that he was worried I’d get hurt from this. I was tough, I wasn’t going to break down just because some people had an issue with our relationship. The others’ partners were a totally different story, Frank had been with Jamia forever, Mikey had been with Kristin for a few years now, Ray practically had his whole life sorted out–Gerard and I were just different. “I can’t handle you getting hurt.” His hands started to shake, his vulnerability displaying itself clearly. 
“Hey, hey,” I cupped his face, “I don’t need you being insecure about our relationship. We are happy together, right?” he nodded slowly, “And none of our friends or family have an issue with us?” he shook his head slowly, “So we’re going to be fine.” His nerves seemed to subside as I reassured him everything would be okay. 
“Are you sure? I just don’t want–” 
“I’m sure honey,” I flashed him a soft smile before pressing my lips to his. He kissed back tiredly, his eyes still semi-heavy from the long night’s sleep. It was going to be okay. 
“I guess we’re going on tour.”
//
Feedback is appreciated! Please request on my page if you have a story idea. I write for lots of different fandoms so request anything and I'll write it!
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helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour
idk if this makes any sense tbh.
i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow
anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D
Title: Happily Ever Accident
A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity
Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.
It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.
But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.
They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.
“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.
“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.
“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.
“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.
“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”
“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.
“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.
“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”
“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.
“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.
“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”
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She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.
Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.
She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.
Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.
Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.
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Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.
Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.
To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.
But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.
He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.
And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.
Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.
“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”
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“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.
“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.
“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”
“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.
Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.
She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.
Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.
His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.
And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.
Fate works in strange ways.
“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.
“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”
“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.
This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.
“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”
Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.
“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.
“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?
“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.
“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.
“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”
Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.
“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”
His heart broke just a bit.
“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”
Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.
“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“
“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”
“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.
“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”
“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.
“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”
She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.
“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.
Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.
“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”
He let out a genuine laugh.
“Gerard.” He said.
“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”
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“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.
“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“
“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.
“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.
“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.
“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”
“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”
“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.
“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.
“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”
“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”
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Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.
Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.
Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.
She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.
So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.
If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.
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That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.
She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.
In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.
And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.
“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.
“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“
“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.
“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.
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“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.
“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.
“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”
“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.
“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.
“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”
Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.
She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.
“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.
“Your view is gonna suck.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.
“Okay?” He asked for clarification.
“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”
“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”
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She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.
Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.
She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-
“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.
She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.
Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.
She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.
Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.
After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.
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Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.
She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.
But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.
He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.
She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.
There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.
“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.
“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”
“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.
“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.
She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?
“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.
“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.
“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”
He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.
“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”
“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.
Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.
“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.
“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”
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“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”
“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.
“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.
“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.
“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.
“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.
“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”
“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.
“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.
“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.
“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”
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He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.
It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.
Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.
But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.
But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.
People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.
“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.
The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.
“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.
“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”
“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”
Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.
“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”
“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.
He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.
I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.
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She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.
Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.
“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.
“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.
And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.
There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.
“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.
“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”
“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.
He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.
“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”
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It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.
His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.
They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.
“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.
She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.
He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.
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“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.
Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.
“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.
“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.
“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.
“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.
“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”
“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.
“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
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“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.
“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.
“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.
“Right.” He awkwardly responded.
He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.
By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.
And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.
“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”
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Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.
“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.
The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.
She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.
“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”
He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.
“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”
She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.
“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”
“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”
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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 months ago
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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
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spittingbloodandscreaming · 5 months ago
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Vampire!Cis Male Reader x Vampire Obsessed!Gerard Way and can he like be all pathetically horny and just super down bad for the reader. Maybe some humping + reader biting and feeding from Gerard? thanks.
p.s. this part's totally optional but can u do like dick size difference as well? like Reader cuz he's a vampire has a huge dick but Gerard has a bit of a smaller 1 and maybe do some degrading based off that if u do it?
@pinkfor3stt merry Christmas. You didn't get everything you wanted but yk I do your dishes so I think you're fine
Bound to Happen Eventually (Gerard Way x Male Vampire Reader smut)
The TV is bright in the dark living room, flickering colors across the two of you on the couch. Gerard whines, starting up his fit again. “C'monn.” He's practically wrapped around you. He has your leg between his thighs, hugging you from the side so tight your ribs might crack. You pry his head away from you.
“No, I'm not letting you do that. Weirdo.” Gerard has been begging you to, please, just once, feed off of him. It's dangerous. It's weird. He's your boyfriend, he's a partner, he is not food. You will not put him down to that level. That's terrible, that's disrespectful. It's—
“It's hot,” Gerard grabs your shirt, looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes. God, he's like a toddler. Similarly, he does not give up when he wants something. Gerard has been bothering you about this for the entirety of the movie the two of you have been watching. Really though, you’ve been trying to watch the film and Gerard has been trying to get in your pants. Your ‘vamp-pants’ as he has begun to call them.
Finally, the credits roll on the screen and you are unsatisfied. “C’mon dude, I have zero clue what happened that whole movie because of your… shenanigans.” You huff, rolling your eyes and turning off the TV, encapsulating the area in darkness, before moving to turn on the lamp next to the couch. The bulb is delayed turning on, but eventually, after a few off and ons, illuminates. When the room is lit again, Gerard lets go of you and shifts up on the couch. Sitting up properly, he puts his arm over your shoulder.
“You’re beautiful y’know, looking extra… gray today.” Gerard bats his eyelashes, supposedly to seduce you, but it just makes him look like someone unexpectedly maced him. “Have you eaten recently?” Gerard says with a sly smile—he thinks that was the smoothest thing anyone has ever said. It was, instead, mildly insulting. Before you can do anything more than scoff and roll your eyes, the lightbulb in the lamp flickers for the last time before dying, blacking out the living room.
“God dammit,” you mutter. That was the last lightbulb, and the one in the ceiling light has been out for weeks. You knew you shouldn’t have put off buying another pack until they were on sale. Gerard slides his arm off of your shoulder and onto your thigh, you feel him leaning closer to you, laying his head on your shoulder. You sigh, going limp against the couch. Realistically, the lack of light does not affect you, but you are no less defeated.
Gerard rubs your thigh, turning towards you and grabbing your face with his other hand. He gently rubs your cheek with his thumb, leaning in for a kiss to which you happily oblige. As the kiss ends, Gerard is the first to pull away. He swings his legs up onto the couch, folding them to the side. The hand he has on your face falls to your shoulder. “Y’know, if there’s nothing else to do—” You interrupt Gerard, taking his hand from your shoulder with yours.
“We can always, y’know, go to bed.” You bring his hand, palm up, to your lips, kissing right on the pulse of his wrist. He smells like raw meat and old, sticky soda. Gerard snickers, he might as well be kicking his legs and twirling his hair.
“I was gonna say we could fool around a bit, since it’s only, what, nine?”
“Babe it’s two A.M.,” you quirk a confused eyebrow—not that it matters—even with the curtains drawn, there's barely enough light in the room to make out the outline of the couch. You, though, can see the whole of Gerard's flushed and impatient expression. You let the hand holding his fall to your lap.
“Well, I’m not tired. And I know you aren’t.” You push a scruffy chunk of hair behind his ear, pitying his desparateness. Gerard shifts, swinging his legs over your lap and falling back onto the couch all in one swift movement. He throws a hand against his forehead and sighs dramatically. You laugh, and while you aren’t particularly enjoying his performance, you can’t say you aren’t at least a little amused. He dramatically sighs again as you lift his legs off of yours, but your attempt to stand is interrupted by Gerard whining.
 “Where are you going?” He sits up, leaning against the arm of the couch and tucking his knees to his chest.
“To get a drink, which I assume I’m allowed to do as someone with free will?” You stand, taking a second to stretch after sitting for two hours.
“Why would you need to get up to do that?” Gerard asks, his wide eyes are a bright contrast to the dark of the living room around the two of you. You roll your eyes, a painfully obvious setup, but you let it happen nonetheless. “I mean, I’m right here.” Gerard gestures to himself like he’s some fancy display car, and as bad as his pickup line was you can’t help but laugh.
“Oh my, I think you’re correct, your pure, virgin blood has to be better than even the finest of tap water we have here, right?” Still laughing, you play into the bit more by pouncing on him, grabbing a sturdy mouthful of t-shirt near his shoulder. Gerard laughs, rolling the two of you onto the floor with a thud. Gerard is on top of you, straddling your hips for just a second before you push the both of you back over. You’re on top of him, shaking your head back and forth like a dog playing tug-a-war. Gerard’s laugh fizzles out into heavy breathing—right as you look up to check in with him, he shoves his thumbs into the corners of your mouth, using it as leverage to pry your mouth open. The two of you are so close that even in the dark he can make out most of the details of what he’s seeing, and he just stares.
“Woah..” You wonder what he could find so fascinating about your mouth, but then you feel it. Running your tongue over your teeth, you learn that your fangs must’ve popped during your play fight. You don’t think Gerard has ever seen you like that. Not with your knowledge, anyway. At the beginning of your relationship, he was trying especially hard to watch you drink things. Gerard slowly takes his hands out of your mouth, moving to push himself, and due to your position, you, up. Gerard sits on his knees, and you’re cross-legged not a foot away from him. You can’t close your mouth properly with your fangs out, and you aren’t the best at making them revert. In turn, you're left staring at Gerard with your mouth open awkwardly, forced into bearing your teeth like a middle schooler with headgear.
While you aren’t in your comfort zone, Gerard seems to be thriving. He has his hand on both sides of your head, looking at you up close. He shifts the angle of your head a few times to see if there's any way to catch the light on your teeth better. If he could put you under a microscope, he would. Being this close to you in this state is utterly exhilarating for him. This alone, he thinks, is better than sex.
Wait. You’re his boyfriend. For a second he had forgotten that, along with being a vampire, being in front of him, and having your tubular teeth out, you are his boyfriend. It’s that realization that prompts him to pull your face down to his and kiss you rather aggressively. He takes it upon himself to shove his tongue into your mouth, and you can’t do much more than let him. Most of your attention is going into making sure Gerard doesn’t end up cutting himself on any of your teeth. But even a perfectly paved road can still lead to hell. However, this road wasn’t exactly perfectly paved. This was bound to happen. Gerard, being seemingly deliberate, slices his tongue open on one of your elongated canines. Gerard abruptly pulls away, putting his hand to his mouth to inspect the damage like he didn’t think cutting himself would hurt. For you though, the switch has already flipped like throwing a brick on a hair trigger. 
Twilight may have been wrong about the disco ball skin and the porcelain-sounding kisses, but they were right about self-control being learned. You just hadn’t exactly been in many situations where restraint on this level was necessary, and Gerard has sufficiently gained a huge strobing target. Whatever morals you had about not ‘bringing him down to that level’ were most certainly gone the second you tasted his blood. When you look up at Gerard, he’s wide-eyed with a mouth full of blood. You move faster than you knew your body was able to, grabbing him by both of his cheeks and crashing your mouth into his, not stopping to process anything past the extended taste of blood, his blood, in your mouth.
Gerard was right, you were hungry. You were starved. And now you were the one with your tongue down his throat, grabbing at his hair and squeezing his hips. It's exhilarating, to now be able to say that you've had every part of him, the essence of his being. Your mouth is full—full of teeth, full of his blood, but it's not enough. You need more of him. You need to be able to have every tangible piece of him. The only thing that pulls you out of your trance-like state is Gerard pulling his new patented move; slotting his thumbs into the sides of your mouth like a horse bit and pushing you away. He’s huffing, his blood smeared all over his face. He moves to hold your head in place like a normal person. Gerard leans up and kisses you, brushing a stray hair out of your face as he pulls away. He’s gorgeous—ethereal, even. There’s so much soul behind his eyes, and you’re glad you can experience being with him. He lets go of your face, lowering his hands to help you out of your pants. 
Gerard is in love with you, wholly and completely. You’re gorgeous to him, the most handsome man he’s ever seen. Being undressed by your hands is a privilege he’s honored to be graced with. He's never loved you more, even with shaky hands and dark eyes. Vulnerability is beautiful on you, and he’s glad he’s the one who gets to see it.
With Gerard naked beneath you, you realize that maybe the blood thing should be more regular. Gerard is clearly enjoying himself, his cock is hard and throbbing, dripping precum. From a less heartfelt perspective, he was right, this is hot as hell. You’re sure his tongue is still bleeding, too, since there’s a steady stream of blood dripping down his chin and tailing down his neck. It's making his hair sticky. Both of you will need a shower after this.
You grab the base of Gerard’s dick, languidly dragging your hand up his shaft as you give him another drool-soaked kiss. He’s panting into your mouth already—the little stimulation you’re providing him being amplified by the lengthy delay of the gratification. Gerard snakes his hand into your hair, grabbing a handful at the back of your head. He jerks his hips up, fucking himself further into your hand. You pull away from the kiss to scold him, but before you open your mouth to talk Gerard shoves your face into his neck. Your interrupted complaint turns into a muffled groan. His scent is so heavy, so strong it’s borderline intoxicating.
You lick a wet line up from Gerard’s collarbone to the base of his jaw and after a few gentle kisses, he tugs your hair roughly. “God, was dry-humping me not foreplay enough? Just fuck me already!” Gerard tightens his grip on your hair, throwing his other arm around your waist. It’d be criminal to refuse such a kind request. You smile against his neck, lining yourself up. There’s enough accumulated bodily fluids to make your entrance easy enough, but Gerard still squeals as you bottom out. He’s drooling before you even set the pace. You try to start slow and ease Gerard into it, but when he yanks your head back and starts bossing you around, you can tell that’s not what he wants. You lift him a few inches off the floor, holding him flush against you with your arms against his waist.
Having Gerard pressed up to you gives you the leverage to really fuck into him. He’s gone braindead now, his eyes rolling back into his head and bloody spit dripping down his cheek. If you could think straight you’d be worried for your neighbors—Gerard is almost screaming. His moans are high-pitched and girlish, his body is so warm. Gerard is the most fragrant thing in the room—waiting for him is like waiting for food at a restaurant right next to the kitchen—every second that passes your hunger becomes more insatiable. His hard-on is rubbing against your stomach, making him writhe in pleasure. You’d notice if you could focus on anything but the fresh smell of iron. You’re getting lost in him. You know you have to hold out but you don’t know if you can. You shouldn’t be this worried about cumming too quickly, Gerard barely makes it past five minutes most days, but you’re just so overwhelmed you can't help it. You’ve been gradually getting more intense, speeding up, practically fucking on autopilot.
You have your face buried in the crook of Gerard’s neck, you’re huffing him like an addict. Time is a lost idea to you. You have no idea how long you’ve been inside of him, let alone what time it is. You tune back into reality because of Gerard hitting your back. You’re sticky with cum, a lot of it. You slow to a stop, setting Gerard down on the floor with care. He’s crying and his legs are shaking, for a second you’re worried you hurt him. Gerard is panting, verging on hyperventilating. He reaches a hand up to wipe his face, smearing his blood over more of his flushed skin.
“Jesus Christ babe,” Gerard huffs, sprawling his arms out across the floor. He turns his head to look at you, half-naked in a shirt soaked in his cum. In retrospect, you definitely should’ve taken your shirt off, but he’s not going to mention it. He thinks you look rather nice covered in his mess. Gerard takes his time gathering his composure on the floor. After a few moments, his breathing goes back to normal. He feels great like he just finished a workout, even though he did almost nothing aside from sitting there and looking pretty while you fucked him senseless. He bled, too. That took a lot of work on his part.
After a few more minutes of Gerard lying on the floor and you sitting cross-legged next to him, he sits up. He moves closer to you, making it so your thighs touch as he gingerly pulls your face down to his, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Gerard reaches a hand up to play with your hair. He sighs happily, leaning against you. “You were on a roll, weren’t you? I didn’t mean to cut you off.” His voice is light and tremulous. Gerard drops his hand from your hair down to your back, rubbing lightly between your shoulder blades. “Maybe as an apology, I can suck you after you’re done sucking me.” When you look at him he’s smiling, acting like the cat that caught the canary. You can’t help but laugh.
“That one was bad, Gerard. Shamefully so.” Gerard just kisses you, putting a hand on your thigh for leverage to push himself up. The blood around his mouth has mostly dried, and his tongue has mostly stopped bleeding. As he separates from the kiss the hand on your thigh slips, landing an ‘accidental’ hand around your still semi-hard cock. 
“Maybe,” Gerard says, idly jerking you off with his head lying on your shoulder. “But you know what’s worse? The fact you aren’t drinking my pure, virgin blood right now.” You breathe in sharply. He’s not teasing you per se, but whatever Gerard is doing is making you playfully vengeful. You hum, grabbing his wrist and gently pulling his hand away from your crotch. Swiftly, you pull Gerard into your lap, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. He giggles, throwing his head. He throws a dramatic hand against his forehead and puts on his best damsel in distress voice. “Oh, no! Please don’t hurt me!” Gerard faux begs, and you think he’s adorable. You lean into him, messily kissing up and down his neck. You playfully bite right over where his pulse is strongest, earning yourself a gasp, and upon the realization, you didn’t go all the way, a dirty look.
“I’m not sure if you know how much this kind of thing really hurts my love,” you say, snickering at Gerard's glare.
“Babe, I want this. I know it’ll hurt, and if anyone was going to hurt me like this I want it to be you, okay?” Gerard would let you rip open his throat with his teeth if you wanted to. He’s thought about it a few times, even. In an alternate universe where that wouldn’t kill him, he’d like to try it out, but that’s a thought tangent for another day. Right now he has to focus on persuading you with his big ol’ doe eyes. You respond to his puppy-like begging by kissing in the center of his collarbones. You cradle Gerard’s head in your hand before moving your mouth to the side of his neck. His skin is so warm and he’s so small beneath you, it’s like holding a lamb in your arms. So fragile and full of possibility. And like the lamb, willingly drawn to the altar for slaughter, you draw your teeth back and pierce them into his soft pale flesh.
Gerard makes the sound commonly associated with vampire bites; a sharp cry followed by a strangled moan. He claws his nails into your back and grabs a fist full of your hair with the other hand. He handles it well, though. His initial scream is short-lived, reduced to audible heaving after a few seconds. The feeling of your teeth in his neck is incomparable to anything he’s ever felt before—a sharp fiery pain in his neck that’s so foreign to him, so dirty and abstract, it almost feels good. He feels so close to you. He feels like he’s completely and entirely yours. 
Right now you feel like you finally understand the homoeroticism of drinking another man’s blood. It’s messier than a kiss, more intimate than sex, more romantic than a hickey. It’s the epitome of intimacy, and you’re doing it with him. You are drinking Gerard Way’s blood. Gerard's blood feels boiling in your mouth, thick, and smooth. It’s a dark metallic syrup dripping down your throat and pinking your monochrome skin.
Gerard’s neck goes slack and his eyes roll back, and as you separate from his neck, licking up the final few beads of blood that bubble out of the two red punctures standing out against his grayed white skin, you see that Gerard must’ve found equivalence to you sucking his blood to you sucking something else. Now with the mess of several orgasms on the two of you, Gerard lies partially limp in your arms. His chest rises and falls rhythmically at a slow and predictable pace. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted so perfectly, and god must’ve read your mind because the clouds part, letting moonlight shine through the window and highlight his features perfectly. He’s like a doll in your arms, perfect and untouched by the world around you. There’s nothing beyond this moment, and if you could, you’d bottle it and hold it forever.
You stand up, heaving Gerard up, pressing his side flush to your chest. He smiles softly, leaning his head into your upper arm. As you carry him to the bedroom, carefully maneuvering the dark hallway and pushing the door open with your shoulder. Kicking aside stray clothes on the floor, making yourself a path to the bed, you lay Gerard down on the mattress. He’s quick to stretch out and make himself comfortable. You take your already gross shirt off, throwing it to Gerard to wipe himself off with. You walk around to your side of the bed, rolling in under the blankets. You scoot up next to Gerard right as he makes an unimpressive shot for the hamper near the door. Your shirt hits the wall about a foot away, falling to the floor unceremoniously. You let out a kind sigh, shaking your head as you wrap your arms around Gerard’s waist and pull him against you. 
“So are you going to make do with your promise?” You say with a smirk audible in your voice. You rest your chin on top of Gerard’s head, and peaking through the sheer curtains in the bedroom you see the orange sliver of a sunrise.
“Tomorrow babe,” Gerard whispers, already half asleep.
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barringtonishigh · 10 months ago
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hi barrett! would you be able to write a frank iero x fem!reader where frank gets sick on tour and she has to take care of him? i love love love fluff lol
Absolutely!! I love a good sick comfort fic. This might suck because I haven't written in a bit but I tried.
Snuggles & Sniffles || Frank Iero x fem!reader
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Frank's sick and (y/n) comforts him.
Tw// sickness, one (1) mention of the fuck word.
(Y/n) was playing on her computer, waiting for everyone else to get up.
Mikey woke up first, quietly going to get ready. Then Ray woke up, then Gerard.
"Is Frank not up yet?" Gerard asked, groggily, walking over to where (Y/n) was sitting and sitting next to her.
(Y/n) shook her head, shutting off her laptop and looking up at Gerard.
"Hm. He's not usually the last one up."
"Maybe I should go check on him." (Y/n) sighed as she put her laptop to the side and stood up to check on Frank.
She approached his bunk, and knocked on the wood beside it. "Wakey Wakey."
"What'dya want?" Frank asked, his voice sounding rather hoarse.
(Y/n) opened the curtain to his bunk to see him curled up. His eyes looked dark and baggy, and his skin was paler than normal.
"...Are you okay?" Asked (Y/n), concerned.
"Yeah, yeah. I just don't feel good. My throat hurts. And I can't fucking breath." Frank whined, hiding his face in his pillow.
"Oh, jeez. Did you get sick again?"
"Y'think?" Frank chuckled, sniffling.
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "Scoot over, I'll make you feel better."
Frank attempted to make room for her in the small bunk, and (y/n) climbed in beside him.
(Y/n) wrapped her arms around him as he snuggled his face into her shoulder. "Why do I keep getting sick?" He groaned, his voice muffled.
"Well, it probably has something to do with us constantly being around huge groups of people?" (Y/n) answered sarcastically, giggling at her own joke.
Frank sighed, feigning annoyance.
"At least we don't have a show today. I'll cuddle you all day, m'kay?" (Y/n) held Frank tighter.
"Thank you." Frank muttered.
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anystalker707 · 2 years ago
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Read before requesting
Requests' status
Meet the author
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♱ MCR MASTERLIST
♱ MCR MASTERLIST II
♱ MCR MASTERLIST III
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࿐ ONE PIECE MASTER LIST
࿐ ONE PIECE MASTER LIST 2
↳ ONE PIECE KINKTOBER MASTER LIST
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❦︎ ATTACK ON TITAN MASTER LIST
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♱ EXTRAS MASTER LIST
Includes: ⋆ HAIKYUU!! ♡ CREEPYPASTA ☽ JUJUTSU KAISEN
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⭐ ACTORS MASTER LIST
Includes: ᯓ★TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET 🌿 HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN 🩵 CILLIAN MURPHY ✩ MARK HAMILL
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Text
Pretty Girls Make Graves Pt 1
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-Dom!reader, Sub!Gerard, praise kink, pet names, handjob, light edging, riding
A/N: i’ve risen from the dead and gerard is turned on by a horror movie in this
Gerard and I have been dating for a couple of months, but we haven’t had sex yet. We've done stuff like oral and what not but, no sex. I’m staying at his house for the weekend so I bought some clothes with me and put them in a bag. Around 15 minutes later I made it to his house from the side door that leads into the basement which is his bedroom. He said he left it unlocked for me so I can just go right in. I walk in, I don’t see him anywhere so I just set my bag down, I sit on his bed and take my shoes off as I wait for him. A couple minutes later he comes down and he sees me sitting on his bed and he jumps “Jesus– holy shit, you scared me” he sighs and he smiles nervously, I laugh and I stand up and hug him “soorryyy” I say almost sarcastically, he hugs me back and I look up at him and I give him a small peck on his lips “When did you get here?”he asks “ehh, a couple minutes ago. Can we watch a movie?” I ask, he nods and I sit down on his couch that's in his room. He sits down next to me and he grabs the controller “What do you want to watch?” he asks, looking at me “Something scary.” I shrug as I put my head onto his shoulder holding onto his arm. And scrolls through the movies on the TV and he clicks on ‘Scream 3’ “Oh I haven’t seen this one yet” I say “Really? It came out like 2 years ago.” He says a bit surprised “Yeah, I never got the time to watch it.” I responded “You didn’t have time for 2 whole years?” He teases, I laugh and I playfully push him, he laughs and he presses play. I put the blanket that’s on the couch over us, in the middle of the movie I look down and I see a bump under the blanket in his crotch area. I immediately know exactly what it is, he told me a little while ago that he used to jerk off to ‘Friday the 13th’ because he was too lazy to look up porn but I thought he was fucking around, to be honest I think it’s kinda cute. I shuffle a bit closer to him, a couple minutes later I place my hand on his thigh earning a small gasp from him. I look up at him and his face is slowly turning pink, I can see he’s really trying his best to focus on the movie. I slowly move my hand up his thigh and I hear his breathing heavy making me subtly smirk, my hand palms him making him moan and look down “Look at the TV.” I say softly and he nods complying. I slip my hand in his hand and I slowly rub his hard member over his boxers making him moan faintly and grip onto the blanket gently, I then take my hand out of his pajama pants making him whine disappointedly. I pat his thigh “Take it off.” I instruct and he nods, lifting his hips up from the couch to take his pants off, they fall around his ankles and he kicks them off. “Keep looking at the movie..” I say a little above a whisper and I slip my hands under his boxers, and I slowly stroke his now fully erect cock. He lets out an almost desperate moan, I speed up making him involuntarily buck his hips “Stop.” I say sternly, he whimpers and he tries to focus on the movie,  his whimpering and moaning makes me just want to hear even more. I hear his moans get more frequent as I jerk him off faster “Please.. I’m so close” he whimpers out, I quickly take my hand out of his boxers “Noo, why’d you stop?” He whines and pouts “Don’t get bratty.” I say taking the controller and pausing the movie, I stand up “We can watch that later, cmon.” I say and I grab his hand making him stand up.
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xdivyxd · 1 year ago
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Hey there! 🖤
Can you make a Gerard Way and Y/N story Inspired By a song "Lover" By Taylor Swift?
I would appreciate that! :-)
Omg you have no idea how much I love this idea!!!
I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover
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Word count :767
Pairing: Gerard way x gn!Reader (no use of pronouns)
Description : so basically moments for Gerard and y/n's relationship inspired by lyrics in the song lover. I left the bridge and the end cuz omg I love this bridge sm!! Also what I wrote is the type of love that I want to have so badly
Gener: fluff (finally writing something that is not depressing)
Warning : none
'We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January. And this is our place, we make the rules'
"Do you think it's time to take the Christmas decorations already?" Gerard asked as he entered the living room, I turned to look at him, a fake disgusted look on my face, pretending to be offended by his question
"And why would we do that exactly?" I raised my right hand and placed it on my heart
"Cuz it's the end of January, all the other neighbors took theirs down" his soft laugh filled the room as I dramatically got up and walked towards him, my hands grasping at his arms as I looked him in the eyes dead serious "they. Are. Boring." I nodded quickly, he smiled at me "Christmas lights are fun. And this is pur house so we do whatever we want" I dramatically gestured towards the Christmas tree
He laughed again, his arms wrapping around my waist as he planted a soft kiss of my temple "we do whatever we want" He whispered in my ear as I smiled knowing that as long as I have him by side the Christmas decorations can stay up forever.
'Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years'
I remember telling my mom "He's the one I'm telling you!" I had just come back from our second date, I was still living with my mother, I was 20, i didn't know anything but for some reason I knew even then that Gerard is the one, mom didn'tbelieveme and i remember telling her "He's the one. I can feel it. It doesn't matter if I know him for only a few minutes or for many many years, he's my one."
Now I sit in Gerard's and mine's apartment, watching a movie with the man I love 
'Can we always be this close?'
I rest my head on Gerard's shoulder, our fingers linked together, he kisses my forehead, I look outside the window at the view we pass by the tour bus
He randomly whispers "I love you" and I whisper it back
We shear secret moments that are just for the two of us, even though the boys are on the bus, sitting not to far from us, talking about whatever
"I like having you close, it's like our hearts beat at the same pace" I whispered in his ear, he turned to meet my lips "please stay this close to me forever" he softly said and I nodded "I forever will"
'We could let our friends crash in the living room, This is our place. We make the call'
"It's fine if the guys stay over tonight? Too drunk to drive home" Gerard came into our room, I put my book down and smiled "of course they can. I live early tomorrow I have band rehearsal so you guys have the house if you need"
He nodded and leaned down to kiss my lips "You're the best" looking at him, I know the only important thing in my life is us, and the rest is just background noise so I didn't mind if the band stays here, besides I like them they're my friends too
'I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all'
"Damn has it really been three years since the two of you got together? " Ray asked as he put his glass back down on the table "it seems like only yesterday day Gerard came home and announced that he's inlove" mikey added, all of us laught at the fact that Gerard throw a napkin his way.  Gerard's hand holding mine and resting on my thigh "three years" I said proudly,  knowing that my man and I are planing on having many more years ahead of us "forever" Gerard said "right?" His eyes met mine "I want all my years to be spend by your side" I said, forgetting that we were out to dinner with the guys "aw you two are adorable and all but I want to be able to hold my food down" frank joked and broke us out of our bubble.
Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover. My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue, All's well that ends well to end up with you
Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover, And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me, And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover.
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s1ushyz · 5 months ago
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A genuine question, I used to write a lot of fanfics on this account (all deleted now) and I was wondering if maybe I should start that up again but with bands I like? (Ex, fob,mcr,tøp, ect) would anyone be willing to see that? 👀
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all2angels · 11 months ago
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BURIED MYSELF ALIVE | basement!gerard x reader
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warnings: this is kinda intense don't read if sensitive, NSFW!!, exaggerated writing, kinda cringe but it's meant to be like that, gerard is sooo gross and pathetic, i've never written a bj scene before please be kind 🙏 probably a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes because i could not bring myself to proofread im sorry
this was the last place you wanted to be in, like, this was genuinely a fucking hellhole.
when you walked in, the smell was almost rancid. his room was filled with trash, half-eaten chips, mountains of unwashed laundry, socks that had something in it that you didn't want to think about.
he offered for you to sit on his bed, you didn't want to, but it seemed like a better option than the floor, so you sat on the edge of bed.
you hated yourself for having the slightest bit of empathy, then maybe you wouldn't be in this place. gerard had asked you if you wanted to watch a horror movie at his place after you bonded over the topic one day, and you said yes, but have been putting it off for about three weeks.
all of your friends told you to cancel on it, they said that gerard wss a gross pervert freak and that you wouldn't want anything to do with him, but whenever he'd asked you if you still wanted to watch a movie with him he'd look so pathetic and desperate, you didn't have the heart to say no. but you wished you declined it.
gerard was walking all over the place, with a panicked look and rummaging through his stuff. you thought he was probably looking for the cd that had the movie. you wondered how he could find anything in this place. while he was looking, you looked over at his bedside table, seeing dirty magazines. you let out a scoff. couldn't he have at least hidden those before i came over?
"please don't be mad.." he says, his voice filled with guilt, "i know you've- we've waited for weeks, but i can't find my CDs." he takes a seat next to you, and you hold your breath. he stared at you, you didn't know what to do or say, he was just staring awkwardly.
"it's... fine? i guess..." you said, unsettled by the way he looked at you. you swear that he almost leaned in, and you were trying to prevent anything like that from happening. his eyes was filled with infatuation, and yours was filled with absolute disgust. the way he looked at you made you feel dirty. he was so fucking pathetic, but it was kinda hot how much he seemed to like you, how much he seemed like he wanted to please you.
you turned away from him out of pure embarrassment that you thought in the slightest bit that gerard 'pervert' way was attractive or hot, but you couldn't help it. you decided that the only way to stop these thoughts was to get the fuck away from here.
"hey, i should go..." you spoke up, standing up from the spot in his bed you were sitting in. you waited for him to say something, but he just looked at you and frowned. he looked like he was about to cry. jesus fucking christ you could throw up right now.
"gerard...? are you okay?" you sigh, sitting back down. you couldn't leave him like this. you hesitate, but you put your hand on his back, comforting him. you didn't want to ask, you wanted to get out, "what's wrong?" you say through gritted teeth.
"i'm really lonely, y/n, please don't go." he rests his head on your shoulder. he starts to ramble on about something, and you tune out his voice. the more he talked, the more you started to be impatient.
"you're so fucking pathetic..." you said. out loud. fuck. your eyes widened, realizing that he had heard it. he lifted his head, but the had his gross hand on your thigh. you were going to apologize, but the way that he looked shocked made you want to rage.
"are you serious?" you snap, he looks confused and hurt. "you couldn't possibly think you had a chance, c'mon dude. you're so- i mean, you're a freak."
"i jus', uhm, i-i like you—" before he could even finish his sentence you laughed at him. no fucking way. you turned to him again, and seeing his eyes, you knew he was genuine. his eyes were red from crying, and his cheeks flushed.
"you're so fucking pathetic, gerard. shouldn't come across as a surprise, i don't like you back." you say, standing up to leave, but before you can he reaches for your hand. his hand was calloused, it was rough.
"please-" he begs, "please, listen— i promise you..." he doesn't know what to say, but he wants you to stay so bad. "I'll do anything for you. I'll do anything."
"no! stop it, okay? i. don't. like. you. get that shit through your head. i don't even want to be your friend, okay, you-" he cuts you off this time with a kiss. he tastes horrible, but you don't stop it. fuck it, you think. you liked the kiss.
he breaks the kiss, and you could feel his hard dick on your thigh, his face is close to yours. "give me a chance, please..." he says.
you sighed and pushed him onto his messy bed, making him sit on the end of the bed and going on your knees in front of him. you start to unbuckle his belt, then you undo his zipper. you could hear him whimper. you take out his dick, a little part of you at least expected him to have a big dick, but he doesn't. the size was fine, not like it was too small. it wasn't trimmed, and the smell was somehow stronger than other dude's dicks. you try not to think about it too much and hold your breath.
you tease the tip, licking off the precum which tastes sweet and bitter. you swirled your tongue around his tip, and feel him twitch. "fuck..." he moans. you feel his hands on your hair, petting you softly, it felt awkward though, you just brushed past it.
you give his dick a few pumps, hearing him beg for you hurry up. you spit on your hand, messily spreading it on his shaft before you part your lips to take him into your mouth. you look up at him, see his eyes closed, and head back. you kept on moving up and down, he let out a loud groan.
you continued bobbing your head up and down, you teased his balls. he made such pretty noises when you did that.
you kept your pace steady until you started to feel his dick twitch in your mouth, you began to quicken your speed until he eventually released his load in your mouth, it spread to your face and chest, and whatever was left in your mouth you swallowed.
he dropped onto his bed, panting heavily. you cleaned yourself up with a cloth you hoped was clean on his bed. it was probably filled with cum anyway.
you sat next to him. his dick was still out.
"c-can we do that again?" he tiredly asked, looking over to you.you sighed heavily. "i guess so, whatever. just don't tell anyone." you warned, rolling your eyes. welp
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oldiesstationlover11607 · 15 days ago
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CHEERARD!!!!!!!!1!!
Cheerleader - Gerard Way x Reader
Warnings: Making out, sexual references (Frank lmao), Gerard feeling insecure.
Word Count: 1141
A/N: Honestly love that I have an anon keeping me writing for MCR bc I literally love them so much. While TOP is my main favourite thing at the moment, MCR and Gerard feel like old friends that I love to revisit whenever I can 😘
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The hum of the crowd grew louder outside the dressing room, sending a low, thrilling buzz through the walls. I leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching as Gee adjusted his green and white cheerleader costume in the mirror, fidgeting with every little detail. He looked incredible—though I could tell by the pinched look in his eyes and the way he chewed his lip that he didn’t feel that way.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, glancing at me through the mirror. His voice held an edge of nervousness that was rare for him. Gerard was usually so fearless, so unapologetic. But tonight, something about this outfit had him on edge.
“Positive,” I said, pushing off the door frame and walking up behind him. “You look...”
I trailed off on purpose, letting my eyes wander up and down his body, drinking in every inch of him in the little pleated skirt, the cropped shirt. His eyes met mine in the mirror, cheeks flushing a faint pink. He looked shy but tried to cover it with a smirk.
“Ridiculous?” he guessed, tugging at the hem of the skirt. “I mean, look at me. They’re all gonna laugh, you know that, right?”
“Oh, please,” I scoffed, moving closer until I could feel the warmth radiating off him. “First of all, you’re not ridiculous, you’re amazing. And second, they’re not going to laugh. They’re going to lose their minds in the best way possible. We all love you and think you’re beautiful inside and out so I suggest you agree with the majority.”
He laughed, but it was soft, uncertain. “Maybe. But what if I look… weird? Or, I don’t know… not like myself?”
I put my hands on his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Not like yourself? Honey, you’re the guy who wore fake blood on stage, bleached your hair for one album and then the next dyed bright red. And don’t even get me started on that one set when you ran into the microphone stand and gave yourself a black eye and then continued to sing the whole gig. You know how to push boundaries—and this? This outfit? It’s just one more thing to show them you’re amazing.”
He tilted his head, considering my words, and a little smirk began to play at the corners of his mouth. “You really think I can pull this off?” He looked at himself in the mirror and I could tell the outfit was truly starting to grow on him. I knew he’d love it. 
I stepped closer until there was barely an inch between us. “Gee you’re already pulling it off.” My voice was low, soft. “And you look… you look really good.”
His eyes sparkled with a flicker of confidence, but it wasn’t fully there yet. I knew him too well—knew he needed more than words to believe it. Slowly, I brought my hand to his cheek, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His breathing slowed, and I felt him lean into my touch.
“Show me,” he whispered, barely audible. It was an invitation, a challenge.
So I did.
I let my fingers trail down his cheek, over his jawline, then traced the neckline of his dress. I could feel his pulse quicken as I moved my hand down to his waist, resting there for a moment before pulling him toward me. His eyes fluttered closed as I leaned in, pressing my lips softly against his. He tasted faintly of chapstick, with that hint of coffee he’d had earlier.
The moment he kissed me back, all that uncertainty, all the nerves, seemed to melt away. His hands found my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. It was gentle at first, both of us savoring the moment, the feel of each other. But soon, the tension between us grew, and his hands wandered to my back, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss.
“God, you’re good at that,” he murmured against my lips, his voice breathless.
I chuckled, threading my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. “I’m just trying to get you out of your head, you know?”
“It’s working,” he whispered, pulling me back for another kiss, this one longer, deeper. His hands slipped under the edge of my shirt, his fingers tracing patterns along my back, sending little shivers up my spine. I could feel my heart pounding, my entire body responding to his touch, to the intensity of his kiss.
Our lips parted, but we stayed close, foreheads touching, our breathing heavy in the quiet of the room. I couldn’t help but smile, biting my lip as I looked at him.
“You really think I look good in this?” he asked, but this time, there was a playful glint in his eye.
I grinned, taking a step back so I could look him over from head to toe. “Good? You look incredible. Like, actually jaw-droppingly hot.”
He laughed, a sound so pure and free that it made my heart soar. “Guess I owe you for this confidence boost,” he said, pulling me close again. 
I leaned up on my toes, pressing a lingering kiss to his jawline. “Just keep being you, please. I love you babe.”
Our lips met again, and this time, we didn’t hold back. His hands found my waist again, lifting me up slightly as he backed me up against the dressing room wall, the intensity between us igniting like fire. His lips trailed down to my neck, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made me shiver.
The knock on the door startled us both, and we pulled apart, breathless, just as we heard Frank’s voice on the other side.
“Hey, lovebirds! Show starts in five! Unless you guys want to be the opening act?”
Gerard rolled his eyes, still grinning, and called out, “We’re coming!”
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Frank muttered through the door, making us both laugh.
Gerard turned to me, his smile softer now, with just a hint of that earlier shyness creeping back. “Guess we better go out there.”
I brushed a thumb over his cheek, giving him one last kiss. “Go knock ‘em dead, cheerleader. They’re not ready for this.”
He smirked, catching my hand as I started to pull away. “Thanks… for everything,” he said, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the noise outside.
“Anytime. Now go out there and show them exactly who you are.”
With one last, lingering look, he released my hand and turned toward the door, glancing back at me with a glint in his eye before stepping out. And as I watched him walk out to meet the roaring crowd, I knew he was finally ready to take the stage, in all his wild, unstoppable glory.
//
REQUESTS OPEN :)
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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 8 months ago
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Love You (Always)
A/N: Heyyyyy this is for all my insecure girlies regardless of what type of body you have. All girlies can feel insecure at times even if you're a 00 or if you're a size 20. So here's a cute comforting fic for all of us ladies who need some extra confidence sometimes! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,316 words Warnings: Mentions of insecurity, scrutinizing of one's own body, not necessarily an eating disorder, but themes/habits of disordered eating/limited eating, swearing, slight angst
You weren’t really a clingy kind of person, that’s probably how you and Gerard worked out so well. But right now, you were pretty sure you were watching every second until he got home.
You had spent a whole two days cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, making sure everything was set. You couldn’t believe you were going to admit it, but you were somehow nervous for his return. You hadn’t seen each other in months, talking over the phone was spontaneous at best, and he hadn’t been home since, well- you couldn’t remember, actually.
So maybe that’s why in your mind everything had to be perfect, because you weren’t sure what to expect. I mean, this could all simply explode in a minute, right? One small tap on the glass for it to shatter.
You paced around the room a bit, biting on your nail, something you never did, and awaited with baited breath and a thumping heart. He was your boyfriend of three years and you were somehow nervous to see him. It was like a date with a middle school crush but far worse because at the end of the day this actually mattered.
You could hear the door rumble a bit and swing open, looking up to be met with Gerard initially struggling with his bags a bit, but placing them down by the front with a sigh and looking up at you with a smile. You smiled back as he was the first to run up to you and give you a kiss. It wasn’t hectic or frantic just gentle and calm.
“Hi.” You finally said once he pulled away, meeting his eyes and he looked down at your with a smile.
“Hi.” He responded, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” You smiled back. “I- um, do you need help with your bags?”
“Nah, I’ll get ‘em later.” He calmly shrugged, “Probably need a shower though-”
“Oh thank God you said it.” You let out a sigh of relief, “With as much respect as possible, you smell like shit.”
“Thanks.” He snorted, beginning to walk back to your shared room where the closet space was. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
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You took a deep gulp as he stepped out of the shower and you were able to finally notice his physique for the first time since being back. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, but his upper body was now structured with soft muscles on his arms and while he still had a bit of a belly (something you adored for whatever reason), he was much… thiner, than he was.
It didn’t shock you by any means considering he was practically getting a full blown workout for an hour a day in the hot sun while touring in the middle of summer. But it also didn’t help your own mental view of yourself.
You had always had this on and off again relationship with self love. Most of the time now, having matured and all and realizing how fake most bodies plastered on magazine pages were, you managed to actually find a lot of confidence in the way you looked. Sure, you were a bit chubby, some chunk on your arms, around your thighs and hips, a bigger belly than just the small one most women had, but you had managed to love the curves that came with it.
“Might as well take a picture.” You heard Gerard say and quickly looked to his face where he was smiling at you, realizing that you had been full blown staring for way too long. You couldn’t even respond, only looking away in complete embarrassment. “Oh c’mon baby,” He softly said, “You’re never speechless.”
He threw a shirt and sweatpants on before walking out to where you were laying on the bed, plopping down right next to you and letting his arms snake around your waist, squeezing you tight. As soon as he did though, and didn’t get your usual enthusiastic response since he knew you loved that move, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. “You okay?” He asked a bit more seriously despite you still facing away and not moving. “Did I say or do something, hon?” You shook your head silently. “What’s up?”
You tried to pull out of his grip, now being doubly embarrassed and therefore on the verge of tears, but it did not work with him at all. Damn, he had gotten stronger too. “Hon-” He tried to push a bit but was quickly stopped.
“Could you not?” You finally pushed back, turning over slightly to face him, his facial expressions quickly contorting from concern to shock. “I’m just not in the mood.” You sighed, getting up as he finally freed you from his grip. “And sorry for staring at you.” You mumbled, walking out of the bedroom and towards the main area leaving him completely dumbfounded.
What had he done in the 15 minutes he was home? Had he done something before and you were just being nice at first? Was he being too up front? Did you need more time to warm up again? Did he read something wrong?
The questions flooded his mind like an exploded dam as he sat up still confused but deciding to give you space and understanding intruding on your personal bubble right now would lead to way more harm than good. Maybe I should Google it or something- Google it Gerard? What are you thinking? Talk to your therapist but- damn, it’s like 9 pm don’t disturb him. Frank’s not bad with advice but he just got home too, Mikey maybe?
He wasn’t sure what to do because clearly, not obviously, like so blatantly, something was very, very wrong. But what was that thing? How did he fuck this all up so fast?
He was pondering his next plans of actions, because yes he would ideally like to sleep in a bed his first night being back in a while, but also the couch seemed like a more fitting punishment for whatever crime he had committed. But you were out there, and seemed like some form of distance at least temporarily seemed to fit the situation.
Finally, after some deep consideration, he figured it was best to just leave you alone and go to bed. If you wanted to come back, he would be on his side facing the other way, being sure not to disturb you. He turned off his side lamp and finally laid down, inevitably having to let the feeling that this was an issue for tomorrow settle on his turning stomach.
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The next morning had started out usual for you. You had woken up, taken a shower, done your hair and skincare routine all within a time that Gerard had shockingly not woken up. You let him sleep extra knowing his sleep schedule on tour was never usual and getting anything more than four hours was a blessing, and also because of the little fit last night that you still were too embarrassed to address. Because how were you supposed to bring up your insecurities to your boyfriend without having to acknowledge them?
Just as you finished brushing your teeth you heard his footsteps pad through the bedroom and into the bathroom, where he quickly yawned from next to you in the mirror. “Morning, hon.” He said, his morning voice thicker than ever.
“Morning.” You replied, spitting out the last of your toothpaste, “How’d you sleep?”

“Well,” He said, grabbing his own toothbrush and stealing the tube of toothpaste from your side, “Much better than on the bus.” You lightly smiled at him.
“What d’you wanna do today?” You asked him, brushing your hair once last time. He shrugged.
“Not much, to be honest.” He said, “Maybe breakfast or lunch, then hang out around here. Just wanna be around you.” He smiled a bit, letting a some of the foamed tooth paste show in his mouth which you lightly giggled at.
“Sure,” You replied, “That sounds good.”
You quickly got dressed into leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. At least this would cover your stomach and thighs. The whole “staying in” plan for the day made it easier to justify the outfit and for him to hopefully think not much of it. “You ready?” He asked, walking to the edge of your closet as you nodded.
You grabbed your tote bag on your way out, locking the door behind you, and was quickly met with his hand engulfing yours as you entered the street. He gave it a little squeeze, something he knew you adored, and suddenly had a blush growing on your face.
Thankfully, having lived in New York a decent amount of time now, you had found local favorites that were easy to get into and always good. A diner down the corner was one of your favorites, and especially early in your relationship was a frequent place you would go each morning after he spent the night with you.
You had your usual orders: Gerard would go for pancakes and you would go for french toast, and then each of you would pick off of the others when you got sick of your own. It was almost part of the routine of days like today. That was why Gerard happened to be so off guard when you didn’t order your usual, I mean, you still ordered a regular plate of breakfast food, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and all, but it wasn’t the usual thing.
He kept to himself a bit, eyeing you instead as each of you talked, and noticing slight body language queues of uncomfortability. He was still pondering last night, and the way you seemed to shrink yourself today didn’t give any indication that you were over whatever was bothering you from yesterday.
You didn’t comment or seem to mind when he took some of your food from your plate, but it made him feel a bit more guilty when you weren’t taking any from his.
“Want some?” He asked, motioning his head and silverware towards his plate. It was still half full of pancakes he has conservatively drenches with just enough syrup to your liking. Why did he have to be so perfect at all the wrong times?

You were tempted, but before your mind could even fathom the taste of his pancakes you remembered how you looked. And you lost all that appetite. You shook your head. “No, thank you.” You replied, taking a small nibble of your hashbrowns.
Gerard really didn’t want to ruin breakfast, but he was also confused, and turning slightly anxious by the moment. You had always enjoyed food, he loved that about you. You were never afraid to try anything new, and the look on your face when you ate your favorite meals was always so genuine and happy. Today it looked just painful.
“Sweetheart,” he spoked up after a moment. You looked up at him. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

He wasn’t sure now why he has asked it, seeing your eyes immediately fill with tears and your poor attempt at try to prevent your face from going sour. “Shit.” He muttered to himself, putting his silverware down, and using his free hand to grab yours from across the table.
“I’m just-“ You spoke, with a shaky voice and slow tear trailing down your cheek. You took your free hand and used the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe it off. “It’s so stupid.”

“Honey, whatever you’re feeling is never stupid.” He told you, his face having melted into a puddle of concern. “I’m here to listen, always. You can always tell me anything and everything.”

“I know.” You sniffled a little, taking a deep breath. “Just- seeing you come home and you’ve- you’ve, I don’t know, lost some weight- and you look great! Don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t know why you want me when I look like this and you-“

“Stop.” He said before you could even finish your sentence. You looked up at him with some worry as he sighed. “To begin with, I love your body. I’ve always found you incredibly sexy, and will always think you’re gorgeous even when we’re 80.” He said, “Next, even if your body changes at all, it will never make me stop loving you. I don’t love you just for your body, it’s a wonderful perk you happen to have, but I will always love you for you.” He sighed, “And finally, even if you did gain weight, or your weight shifted to other places, that’s just more of you to love. There is zero downside to that.”
You took a few moments considering his words. “Thanks.” You replied simply, feeling a little more calm but guilty for allowing your feelings to ruin his first day back. “Sorry for-“

“No apologizing for your feelings.” He said again, squeezing your hand. “I love you, and I will always be here to listen to you. Never feel guilty for feeling one way or another, okay?” You nodded. “Now, do you want some of my pancakes.”
You took a deep sigh of defeat. “Yeah.” He smirked, pushing the plate halfway across the table as you removed your hands from each other to go back to holding your silverware.
You took a pretty decent amount, stabbing with your fork and ferociously cutting with your knife. “Fuck these are good.” You grumbled, halfway done chewing them. He chuckled.
“Have as many as you want.” He softly smiled. 
“I regret not getting the french toast.” You admitted with a small cringe. “We always share it.”

“You wanna get it to go? We can keep it as a late night snack for later.” You took a moment contemplating his suggestion with a growing smile. You nodded. “Extra strawberries?” He asked with a knowing smile.
“Always.”
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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 7 months ago
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Away From Preying Eyes - Mikey Way x Reader
Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: angst to fluff/hurt comfort Word Count: 2 851 Warnings: loooots of kissing; lack of communication, use of y/n Summary: The way Mikey keeps hiding your relationship causes doubts for his feelings to rise A/N: As per popular demand… I wrote this some two years ago I think. There are a few more stories, that I should proofread and publish… someday. Also i just realised i haven't published anything since the last chapter of Killjoys... oops. sorry.
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Mikey’s lips were soft on yours, kissing you sweetly. It had been literally weeks since he had last kissed you like this, all the times in between having been hurried, squeezing as much passion into a short kiss as possible.
But now you could tell he was taking his time, his hands on your waist as you were leaning against the side of the bus, his tongue swiping over your lips lazily. One of your hands was buried in his back pocket, and you almost smiled into the kiss as you remembered the look he had given you, when you had done so: surprised at your boldness, intrigued and definitely a little turned on.
It really was unfortunate that you had to sneak around like this, holding hands and sharing kisses and whispered compliments only when nobody was around who could have witnessed it. It had all started out at the beginning of tour, when after the set, which had been weirdly emotional for all of you, Mikey had pulled you aside, into the narrow space between two curtains, and kissed you for the first time. That’s how it had started, the sneaking around.
You had been more than thrilled at this development, after all you had liked Mikey for a long time, and it was exciting to have a secret the others didn’t know about. It felt like a game of hide and seek, and until about two weeks ago you had not minded the secrecy at all. But then Frank’s girlfriend Jamia had come to visit.
The two of them were definitely not the over the top, love-dovey couple, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Frank would kiss her hair absentmindedly while listening to someone else talk, or how she would hook her thumb in one of his trousers’ belt loops while they were walking or standing next to one another. It made you wonder what it would be like to have this with Mikey, and slowly doubts began raising, doubts you really didn’t want to have.
What was this to Mikey? Did he even see this as a relationship, or was it just a fun thing at the side?
Until then you had always assumed you were a couple, as valid as Frank and Jamia, even if nobody knew. But maybe that was the problem. Nobody knew. Even if Mikey wanted to be with you, properly, more than just a quick make-out session in the long, empty corridors of an arena, or deserted hotel hallways, why were you telling nobody? Was he… was he ashamed of you? You hated when these thoughts started pressing in, especially when it happened in moments like right now, when his kisses were so sweet and caring, that they left no doubt that this was so much more to him than just fun.
You tried shooing the thoughts away, but before you had truly succeeded, Mikey had pulled away.
“Is something wrong,” he asked, his eyes carefully scanning your face, searching for the smallest hint of discomfort.
“Nothing,” you smiled, hoping it was convincing enough. “Everything’s good.”
“Hey, something’s off, I can tell,” Mikey insisted, and gently nudged his nose against your cheek, an affectionate gesture you had quickly learnt to love. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
You sighed. At the moment you really would have preferred continuing to kiss him than to talk about the stupid thoughts that had swarmed your mind. And they were stupid, you knew that. Every time Mikey touched you, or looked at you when you were alone, you knew that he cared deeply for you.
Maybe it was just the fear of giving your heart away and being left again. It had happened before.
Mikey cared for you, yes, but how could you know he cared for your as much as you cared for him? Well, you didn’t even expect him to love you the way you loved him. You just couldn’t help but wonder if this was something he wanted to pursue in the long run. And no matter how little you wanted to hear him tell you that it was just something that would last for the duration of this tour, he still deserved to hear your thought on the matter. So, you sighed again, and tilted your head, making space for Mikey as he trailed small kisses along your jaw towards your neck.
“It’s just- I can’t help but wonder-”
You were interrupted by the door to the bus jumping open, no six feet away from you.
Mikey’s reaction was immediate. Quicker than you were able to register, he had clamped one of his hands over your mouth, and – being taller than you – brought himself between the door and you, so you wouldn’t be spotted as easily. Even though the door blocked the view to whoever had opened it.
Those were the moments that really made you feel weird. The moments when Mikey was so quick to cover any and all interaction with you, never letting the others even get the faintest clue as to what was going on between the two of you. And for some reason, this time it stung more than before. If you only knew why he did that, why he was so keen on keeping your relationship, if it even was one to him, secret, then you absolutely wouldn’t have minded it but this way…
“(Y/N), Mikey!”
It was Frank, who had opened the door of the bus, but seemed to make no attempt at stepping outside. “(Y/N), Mikey! We’re gonna watch Dawn of the Dead!”
He waited a moment before he spoke something else, more muffled, and probably directed at the others inside the bus, before the door got pulled closed again.
“Let’s talk another time, alright,” Mikey suggested, still tense, but slightly more relaxed now, and you nodded. “You’ll go first?”
Again you nodded, quickly tucking at your shirt to make sure everything was in order, before you slipped past Mikey and headed towards the door of the bus. It had been stupid to think that Mikey and you might actually have a little time this once. You knew the others were waiting for you to come back from the drug store and for Mikey from saying hi to another band who had parked their bus not too far away on the festival grounds.
But maybe Frank had sort of saved you there. Otherwise, you would’ve had to tell Mikey how you felt about him, and especially after his reaction to almost having been found out just now, that felt even worse than confessing to your best friend.
With a last glance at Mikey, you pulled open the bus door, and climbed inside. Ray and Frank had already settled on the sofa, while Gerard was fumbling around with the TV.
“There you are,” Ray noticed and patted the empty seat next to him. “We already wondered what took you so long.”
“Couldn’t find the damn store,” you whined, dropping down next to Ray.
“Did you at least get what you were looking for,” Frank asked, before telling Gerard to try another button.
“Nope, they didn’t have my brand,” you lied. Of course the truth was that you had never looked for a drug store in the first place, and instead spent the past thirty minutes kissing Mikey. But now you could reuse the drug store excuse for the next time.
“Ugh, that sucks,” Frank rolled his eyes. “Oh, and have you seen Mikey? He’s been MIA since this morning.”
“No clue,” you shrugged, giving your best to sound indifferent. As if you didn’t know he was waiting outside just a little longer before coming in.
Indeed, just as Gerard had found the correct button on the old TV, Mikey opened the door, and with an apologizing hand gesture settled down between his brother and Frank.
While the others were focusing on the movie, you did your best not to look over at Mikey. You knew he had sensed something was up and would not stop asking about it before you told him the truth, and you were not sure you liked that prospect.
~*~
For two days you managed to escape Mikey. Two days in which you always managed to not get out of a situation with others, even though you knew he was waiting for you. You were evading him. Mikey knew that as well as you did. You knew eventually you’d have to talk to him, eventually you would have to ask him what this thing between you meant to him. Two days. And then your luck ran out in a dimly lit hotel corridor.
Mikey had waited in the open door to his room until you tried passing it on the way to yours, when he grabbed your wrist, and dragged you down the corridor and around the next corner. No rooms were here, only the small door to a broom closet. Nobody would look for you back here. And a huge potted plant gave you additional privacy.
You had let out a surprised squeal at him dragging you along all of a sudden, but you got quickly shut up by Mikey’s lips on yours. He was kissing you feverishly, as if it were the last time he ever would get to do it. You couldn’t blame him, after all, god knew what he had to think after you had evaded him for two days, not even allowing him his by now traditional post-show-kiss.
His hands were cradling your face, while he used the length of his body to keep you trapped against the wall, his lips desperately chasing yours. You kissed him back, suddenly not sure anymore how you had managed to deprive yourself of him for the past days.
Only when he was out of breath, did he pull away, leaning his forehead to yours with closed eyes.
“Talk to me,” he begged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, gently holding you there. Not forcefully, never forcefully. Rather the kind of touch that made it clear that he wanted to feel you, wanted you to stay, but would easily allow you to slip away, should you wish to do so. “What happened? What did I do?”
You swallowed thickly, opening your eyes to look at Mikey. His face was so close that you couldn’t focus on him properly, but you could make out his long dark lashes against his smooth skin, the slight stubble that grew on his cheeks. He looked troubled, even with eyes closed and as out of focus as he was right now, you could tell he looked troubled and worried.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, making him shake his head slightly.
“No, no. Don’t apologise,” Mikey disagreed. “You pulled away and there has to be a good reason for that. And I know it has to do with me, so don’t apologise, alright? I just- I want to fix it… if you’ll let me. I want to make things okay again. With us.”
“Is that really what you want,” you asked, finally pulling back a little.
Mikey’s eyes opened, and confused he looked at you.
“What?”
“Do you really want us?”
You could see the fraction of an inch that his eyes widened, the shock, the panic setting in, and almost instantly you felt bad for it. But this exact question had been plaguing you for too long now, so you had to ask it eventually.
“Yes, yes of course,” Mikey bubbled out. “Of course I want us. What- why would you think I didn’t?”
Ashamed you looked away. How the hell should you put all those thoughts and feelings into words, this fear of rejection, of just being a side-gig, the fear that he might be ashamed for you. How could you possibly put it into words without making it sound like you thought he was the bad guy in all of this?
A warm hand came up to your chin, and Mikey tilted your head up to look at him again.
“Why would you think I don’t love you?”
His words were like a knife through the heart, and you could feel tears rising.
“I just- you were so insistent on keeping everything a secret, it felt like-”
The moment the words had left your lips, realization hit Mikey and he groaned, and squeezed his eyes together, before he dropped his head backwards into his neck.
“Shit,” he swore quietly, “I knew I should’ve talked to you about it.” He took a deep breath and looked back at you; his brown eyes full of sorrow as they took you in. “It has absolutely nothing to do with you, it’s just- For as long as I can remember I was always Gerard’s little brother. Or My Chem’s bassist. Or Pete’s friend. And I love being these things. I love my brother, and I love the band and I love Pete, even though all three can really get on my nerves sometimes.
“But to other people I’m never more. I’m never Mikey. I’ve had girls want to date me just because then they’d get closer to my brother. As if he’d ever even think about doing something with a girl I was interested in at some point. Or interviewers ask me about everyone in the band but me. And whenever someone shows interest in me, it’s either because of Gee or because of the band.
“But with you I can just be myself, you know? I can just be Mikey. And- fuck, at first, I wasn’t sure if maybe I’m wrong this time too, that you’re just letting me kiss you because we’re in the same band, and maybe this doesn’t actually mean anything to you. But then we were in that studio, and you kissed my hand and I just knew that it you were actually looking at me-”
You remembered that interaction. A radio station had invited the band to record a song with them, and while everyone else had been busy setting up, you had snuck over to Mikey. It had been quick, the way you had taken his hand and pressed your lips to his knuckles.
You had been scared he’d be mad at you, since anybody could have seen, but the urge to show him some sort of appreciation had been overwhelming, and instead of getting mad, his cheeks had been dusted over a slight pink, so that a minute later Ray had asked if Mikey was feeling alright, or if he might be getting a fever.
“I’ve always been looking at you,” you interrupted Mikey quickly, making him smile sadly.
“I knew that then. I knew that, and it was, is, the most precious thing in my life. And I didn’t want to share it. We, the band, we spend so much time on such narrow space. We know literally everything about each other. But this – that you were looking at me for me – this was my secret, and I wanted to protect it so badly from preying eyes… And I completely forgot that to you it had to seem like I didn’t care enough or-”
Mikey broke off, unable to phrase the words both of you were thinking.
“It’s okay-”
“No, it’s not. Because I made you feel like you weren’t desired, and trust me, that’s as far away from the truth as it gets.”
“I made you feel awful too, not telling you what I was thinking and avoiding you for two days.”
“At least now I know why. So, if you want to tell the others, then I’m fine with that. I don’t feel quite ready for the rest of the world to know, but if that’s what you want, I’ll learn to-”
“It’s not,” you interrupted him. “It’s not what I want. We don’t even have to tell the others, not now at least. I wanted to know why we were keeping it a secret, and now I do. Hell, I can even understand how you feel, parts of it at least. And it’s okay for me to do it at your pace, as long as you promise it won’t last just for this tour.”
“I never meant for it to just last for this tour,” Mikey shook his head in disbelief. “Not with you. I love you too much for that.”
That was the second time now that he had said he loved you. Trying to keep your smile in check, you bit your lip before answering.
“I love you too, Mikey.”
He smiled then, brighter than you had ever seen him smile before, and leant in again, kissing you once more, slower, calmer this time, but with unguarded love, and still smiling, both of you finally certain that your feelings for one another were reciprocated.
A few meters away, Frank silently closed the door to his hotel room, giving a thumbs up to his band mates, letting them know Mikey and you had made up. They’d continue playing the oblivious fools for as long as Mikey and you needed them to.
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ghoulgirlwrites · 1 year ago
Text
So Don’t Hate Me, Trust In Me
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Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader
Era: Danger Days
Requested by: Anon
Word Count: ~1500
Summary/Request: So I was thinking about a Frank X fem!Reader (she/her) during Danger Days era, where they are really close and it's obvious they like each other, and Frank is more forward with liking her, but she's insecure bc she doesn't have any experience with relationships and intimacy (even just handholing and stuff), and is worried he'd be disappointed, maybe even something like she's not good enough for him. And he gets her to talk about it to him and is really understanding and reassuring, and willing to give her time and space, but she feels better after the conversation and wants to try. So basically angst to fluff?
A/N: I LOVED writing this one. It was one of the first fics I worked on in getting out of my hiatus and it was just everything I wanted in a request (particularly Danger Days Frank). Enjoy!
--
You’d just started a new job as Frank’s guitar tech. It was a dream job for you, since you wanted to work with bands and travel around the world, but you were too shy to get onstage yourself. MyChem were currently on tour promoting their newest album, Danger Days, and you were excited to work for them, since you’d been friends with Frank since shortly before Revenge had come out.
But the best part of the job was getting to work with Frank. The rest of the band was super nice and welcoming, but Frank was so generous and he seemed to care about making your job easier whenever he could. Every time you switched out a guitar for him, he’d grin at you as if you were his personal savior. When you’d first started working for Frank, you’d been nervous that it would affect your friendship, but it had only brought you closer.
However, you were trying to be cautious because you knew you were starting to fall for him. You figured that he was just nice to you because he was nice to the rest of the crew, but you often caught yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him or to run your fingers through his hair, which he’d taken to wearing longer, down to his shoulders. You knew you couldn’t act on these feelings because you figured he’d never like you back and saying or doing the wrong thing could put you out of a job and you really wanted to keep working with him, not just because of your crush.
--
You were just about finished setting up before MyChem took the stage for tonight. You handed Frank his first guitar and he put his hand over yours on the neck of the instrument, holding you in his hazel eyed gaze.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome.” You felt proud that your voice didn’t tremble and you prayed he didn’t notice your hand shaking beneath his.
He turned to head to the side of the stage, but then ran back to you.
“Did you forget something, Frank?” You asked.
“Yeah. I just wanted to say you look really nice tonight,” he said.
Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “Thanks.”
You watched him play his heart out, still bewildered from the compliment he’d given you. It wasn’t the first time, but usually his praise was about your work. Your stomach fluttered at the idea that he noticed how you looked. You usually dressed for comfort, in jeans, band shirts, and hoodies and you weren’t dressed that differently tonight, apart from the fact that you were wearing your favorite hoodie. You liked it because it was comfortable, but you also thought that it brought out the color in your eyes.
The show was nearing the end, when Gerard started walking around the stage as he spoke into his microphone.
“So before we play our last song, we wanted to give a big thank you to our crew who do such an amazing job at every show. Thank you to our merch, our lights and sound people--”
Frank cut in. “And I just wanted to call my guitar tech, Y/N, to the stage for a minute. Y/N, where you at, girl?”
Your face burned as you shrunk back, but you saw Frank walking over to you, his guitar still slung around his neck. He lifted one hand, beckoning you gently with one finger. “Come on,” he mouthed, his lips curling in a sweet smile.
You sighed, walking onstage to a crowd of thousands, who were all screaming for you. ‘Bet they’d scream for just about anything if Frank told them to,’ you thought bitterly to yourself. But all thoughts went out of your head as Frank took your hand and led you over to his mic so he could talk.
“This is Y/N, my amazing guitar tech, she keeps me in line all night, can we give her a big round of applause?” Frank asked the crowd, lifting his arms up towards the pit. You blushed over his comment about “keeping him in line all night,” and hoped the stage lights didn’t show how red you felt.
The crowd went wild once again and your face burned even more as you felt Frank wrap his arm around you and pull you into a hug, discreetly kissing your cheek. It was such a quick peck that you were almost sure you’d imagined it, but when Frank pulled away from you, he was blushing too, but grinning, the corners of his hazel eyes crinkling.
Frank finally let you go and you escaped to the sanctuary of backstage. You hadn’t wanted to hurt Frank’s feelings by running away, but it made you nervous being in the spotlight. And that kiss on your cheek had made your heart soar, but now you felt nervous. What did it mean?
--
After that night, you tried to keep yourself busy and limit your interactions with Frank. You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were scared you weren’t good enough for him. You had never really dated anyone and you knew he’d had quite a few relationships, so you were also afraid that your inexperience would be a turnoff for him.
It was hard to totally avoid him though, especially since you worked for him and you’d seen his face fall enough to know that he’d noticed and wasn’t happy about it, but you couldn’t help it.
Finally, he cornered you one day backstage while one of the opening bands set up for their set.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured.
Your heart stopped. You were caught. There was no avoiding the conversation now. You swallowed hard. “Frank, I…I’m sorry. Can we talk about this somewhere more private?” As you said this, you saw Gerard out of the corner of your eye, looking over at the two of you, his eyebrows furrowed. Gerard was hard to miss these days, with his bright red hair.
Frank nodded and you let him take your hand and pull you away from everyone else. Once you’d stopped walking, he held your hand in his still, loose enough that you could let go if you wanted to, but tight enough that you could sense that Frank didn’t want to let you go.
He sighed. “Look, I--I’m sorry if I scared you off that night when I called you onstage, but I just--I wanted to show you how special you are to me and how much I like you, I just didn’t really know how. I didn’t plan on kissing your cheek, it just happened, so if you’ve been avoiding me because of that, I’m so sorry. I never want to make you uncomfortable and I want you to know that we’ll do whatever you want. If you want to pretend this never happened, we can do that, if you want to leave tour--”
You’d been listening to him ramble, your heart fluttering in your chest as he said everything you’d hoped to hear from him, but when he mentioned you leaving tour, you had to stop him. “Frank, I don’t wanna leave tour.”
His face lit up with a cautious sort of hope. “You don’t?”
You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “No, I don’t.”
He sighed in relief. “Thank God. So what is it then? I miss you and I want us to be good again.”
You sighed. “I like you too. I like you so much that it scares me. A-and I could tell you liked me too and that scared me even more.”
He frowned. “Why? You never have to be afraid of me, you know that.”
You bit your lip. “I know. It’s not that. It’s just that…you know I’m not very experienced when it comes to this kind of thing. And I’m insecure that I’ll screw it up, or that I won’t be good at…you know.” You trailed off, blushing furiously.
His full lips curved in a slight smile, his hazel eyes full of warmth and love for you. “Y/N, you’re going to be amazing, because you’re amazing. But we can slow things down, I can…I can back off a little if that’s what you need.”
You nodded. “Not too far back though,” you whispered, smiling slightly.
He reached his hand out to yours, linking your pinky with yours. The simple, gentle touch felt amazing.
“Better?” He asked, his eyes searching yours.
You nodded, reaching up with your other hand to brush his hair out of his face. It had grown down to his shoulders and you loved the way it looked, even when it obscured his beautiful eyes. “Thanks, Frank.”
He smiled. “Of course.”
The two of you took things slow over the next few months. Frank was unendingly patient with you, which made you feel brave enough to progress your relationship. You still worked for him, since it gave the two of you the chance to spend a lot of time together and travel around the world. You loved watching him play music and jump around the stage like a maniac. And after every show, he was yours, and that was all that mattered.
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