#n ray. almost especially ray toro

[hailmary-forgiveme]

i used to watch My Chemical Romance's live performances to see how Ray n Frank played guitar n what made them so good n how they played certain chords.

i now watch My Chemical Romance's live performances cuz what am i if not a teen boy.

[xocasper]

hey!! i was wondering if u could mayb do a ray toro smut w fem!reader? so like the readers in the band and she kisses someone on stage (like how gee and frank used to) and basically ray gets jealous because he has a thing for her and after the show they are sharing a hotel room bc they have to (one bed trope oml). ray blurts out smth abt how he cant believe she kissed however shes like why and he kisses her and one thing leads to another... can u pls make ray the dom? like rough but still loving?

i love ur work sm <333

Wrecked and Jealous

Pairing: Ray Toro x Fem!Reader Summary: You share a heat-of-the-moment kiss with Frank on stage, and it sets Ray off. After the show, you have to share a bed with Ray, and he has little choice but to tell you the truth. Warnings: NSFW content Tags: mild angst, jealous sex, nipple play, rough sex Word Count: 2858 A/N: I have written so much within the past four days. It's been insane. After having awful writer's block, I'm abusing my passion for writing while I have it. Also, the reader is basically Matt Cortez in this. I love Matt.

For as long as you’d known the band, you never thought you’d be playing on stage with them for thousands of adoring fans, listening from a few feet away as they screamed lyrics back to Gerard as he pranced around the stage. You’d seen dozens of their shows, but playing one was a different story. When Mikey got married and decided to take a break, their choice for a substitute was unanimous, picking their very own guitar tech–you.

Of course, you were flattered, and with a bit of convincing, you decided to join them on stage, feeling more grateful than ever that you had bothered to learn bass. Even though they were told to pick a touring musician, or at least someone with “a little more experience,” the band stood firm, insisting that it had to be you. They felt more comfortable having a friend on stage, especially after knowing you for several years already, though one of them pushed harder than the others.

Ray had convinced not only their manager, but you, that you were a perfect substitute, swearing up and down that the fans would love you–and they did. Admittedly, you moved a bit more than Mikey did, and while you didn’t have Frank’s level of energy, you still put on a show like the rest of them. You didn’t have to do much to get them screaming, and if you didn’t have them at the start, you’d have them hooked with Give ‘Em Hell, Kid.

Playing aside, any interaction with Frank sent them into a frenzy. Not that either of you minded; working with Frank for so long had made you pretty close friends, and he had a blast messing around with you. When he wasn’t rolling around on stage, he was brushing up against you like a cat and resting his head on your shoulder, practically hanging off of you while you played.

People loved it, and it didn’t take long for them to start shipping you guys, much to Ray’s dismay. From across the stage, he’d watch as you fooled around with Frank, how he made you laugh any time he’d try to pick you up, and the way you’d kick your legs with a wide smile on your face as he dragged you around. Occasionally, your skirt would ride up, exposing your bare thighs and a little more curve than what’s appropriate, riling up the teenage crowd as they saw a nearly half-naked girl for the first time. Ray had to side with the crowd, getting flustered at the sight, though he felt a pang of jealousy that Frank was the cause of it.

It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, trying to keep in mind that you and Frank were just friends. This worked for a little while, until one particular show when Frank got one hell of an adrenaline rush and made a rash decision. Between two songs, he ran up to you at full speed, hands planted firmly on your waist as he pulled you in, his lips crashing against yours in a heat-of-the-moment kiss. This wasn’t a light peck either; your arms wrapped around his neck, almost immediately–as if it were a common occurrence, Ray noted–passionately tugging him closer.

As anyone could’ve guessed, the fans lost their minds, hooting and hollering as you pulled away, giving him a smile and a playful shove. Gerard was shocked, giving the two of you a look while the next song started up, one of surprise rather than annoyance. Ray, on the other hand, had an obvious look of distaste, trying to ignore the very steamy kiss he had to witness between the girl he liked and his bandmate.

He played the rest of the show in a bitter mood; you and Frank got along swell though, making his jealousy increase tenfold. Thankfully, the show ended soon after, and Ray wanted nothing more than to hide away in his hotel room and hopefully not think of you. Tonight was not in his favor though, because all he could do was think about you, watching you closely on the way there while you chatted with Gerard–and still, not him.

You weren’t intentionally ignoring him, he just seemed upset and distant, and you didn’t want to ask about it with the guys around. The trip back to the hotel wasn’t long, so you’d be able to sit him down sooner or later.

When you entered the lobby, Ray went up right away to get the keys, mentally drained and seeking solace in the form of a warm bed. This seemed fine at first, the rest of you standing around chatting about the show, only to be interrupted with some unfortunate news.

“They overbooked,” Ray announced, a bit frustrated at the situation. “They can give us three rooms, which means someone will be alone, and the rest of us have to share.”

Bob immediately piped up, “Dibs on the single.”

No one bothered to argue, save for a sigh from Ray. Frank was next to speak, “I’ll share with Gerard.”

That was fair, the two of them shrugging casually, leaving you and Ray to share as well. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, trying to hide his annoyance as he handed you a key, the rest of the guys already piling into the elevator.

“There are two beds, right?” you asked, trying to be conscious of his comfortability, but he took it to heart, giving a hostile shrug. Okay, weird. He was usually optimistic, and he never cared about having to share a bed with anyone else–maybe it was because of you.

He fumbled nervously with the key as you reached the door, and you offered to try, only seeming to annoy him more. He ignored you and pushed the door open a bit too hard, guilt flashing in his eyes as you jumped from the bang it made as it hit the wall. A soft apology was on the tip of his tongue, but so was an envious outburst, so he kept his mouth shut and walked inside.

Your eyes widened as you stepped in, “Oh shit.”

One bed. No futon, no couch, and not even a large bed at that–a double, with four stiff pillows and a slim chance that you wouldn’t be touching. He let out an exasperated sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if there would be another place to sleep when they opened. To make matters worse, it was freezing, which meant you’d have little choice but to huddle together.

You let Ray dwell on his misfortune for a moment, leaving him to check the closet for extra blankets while you changed in the bathroom. You could hear him curse through the wall, and you hustled to see what was wrong this time.

“The thermostat doesn’t work,” he told you, and sure enough, it wouldn’t budge. Of course, you had only packed shorts and t-shirts to sleep in, so you miserably accepted an icy death. You sighed in disappointment, climbing under the covers as he undressed in front of you. Flushing, you stared up at him, a bit shocked at his shamelessness. He only raised his eyebrows at you, shucking off his jeans and reaching into his bag for a pair of sweatpants. Your eyes flickered down to his waist, and then a little further, unabashedly tracing the prominent outline in his boxers.

Ray pretended not to notice, not after the stunt that Frank pulled earlier. Maybe he would have made a sly comment about it on another day, but he was still overcome with hurt and jealousy, getting into bed and staying as far away from you as possible. He managed to make the already chilly room colder, his pessimism starting to get to you as you turned around, your back to his.

The room was dark, and though you couldn’t see him, you could feel each of his movements. Ray wouldn’t stop shifting around, tugging the blanket off of you as he tried to get comfortable. After about five minutes of tug of war, you finally snapped. “What is your problem?”

Your tone surprised him, but he continued to ignore you, not in the mood to have a heart-to-heart–especially not with you. Annoyed, you sat up and flicked the table lamp on, receiving a huff from him.

“Ray.”

“What?” he answered flatly.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to hide the impatience in your voice, although you were genuinely concerned about him.

He sighed, “Nothing.”

You tried again, voice more stern. “Ray.”

Finally, he sat up against the headboard, eyes darting down to where you had your arms crossed, incidentally pushing your chest up–you weren’t wearing a bra either, making him wonder if your shirt was that tight earlier or just now. This wasn’t the time to be checking you out though, and he gave another stubborn, “What?”

You didn’t give in, eyes narrowed as you waited for him to answer. One staring contest later, he heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face.

“I can’t believe you kissed him.”

Your expression softened, “What do you mean?”

“Frank,” he said. “You kissed him.”

Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to figure out what the issue was. “Why do you care?”

“Because I–”

The words got caught in his throat from there, shutting his eyes and sighing softly before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a heated kiss. It didn’t last long, his common sense kicking in quick, and he broke away. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you worriedly.

You didn’t answer–not verbally, anyway–bringing him back in by the nape of his neck. His lips were soft, clashing perfectly with the way they moved, fierce and biting, his grip on your jaw unwavering. You gave a soft gasp when he pulled away, gently tugging on your bottom lip before swiping his tongue across it. He sighed against your lips as you slid your hands down his bare chest, delicately running your nails over his skin. Languidly, your tongue slipped past the seam of his lips, your light movements soon corrupted by his more fervent ones.

Ray’s fingers danced across the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin below it before gliding his hands under the thin fabric. His hands were warm, and slightly calloused, contrasting against your skin, smooth and cold from the frigid room.

“You’re cold,” he mumbled, pulling away.

You nodded, grinning like a minx. “Warm me up then.”

Eagerly, he complied, tugging you down against the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck, leaving wet kisses galore, with a periodic nip at your clear skin, soon to house faint marks that would remind you of Ray for days to come. His hands cupped your breasts beneath your shirt while his mouth trailed down your collarbones, thumbs sweeping across your nipples eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

The minute he pulled away, you tugged your shirt off, craving his touch once more. His lips landed back on yours, kissing you hot and messy before ducking back down to your chest, staring breathlessly at your bare skin, on display for him alone. He wasted no time kissing across the newly exposed skin, hands planted on your waist while his lips ghosted across one of your nipples, his warm breath making you shiver.

He wet his lips, holding your gaze as he swirled his tongue around it, missing the mark every time in a way that was almost impressive. In a single broad stroke, he ran his tongue flat against it, making you arch, pushing yourself further against him. His hands pushed you back down as he continued to work his tongue against you, unforgiving and just shy of overwhelming, closing his lips around the bud and coming off almost as quick.

He didn’t stop there, swapping sides and lapping at your nipple once more, each moan and sigh going straight to his dick as he worked his tongue against you. His hands dug into your sides, holding you against the mattress in an authoritative way, arousal seeping through your panties. With the way he used his mouth, you could only imagine how it’d feel between your legs, but that was a task for another time.

Slowly, he pulled off, your grip on his shoulders tightening and he stared down at you, eyes wide and lips slick with saliva. His expression alone had you wanting more, needing to see the look in his eyes as he fucked you, his grip tight and thrusts harsh as he pounded you into the mattress.

Ray tugged down your sleep shorts, watching your expression for uneasiness, but only finding desperation. You had seen him play a million times, eyes transfixed on his hands during shows, and just the thought of him using them on you sent arousal flooding through you. He ran the pads of his fingertips across your panties, damp from where you had soaked through, nearly moaning knowing you were this wet for him, not for Frank or Gerard, or anyone else–just for him.

Hastily, he pulled those down too, and you let out a hiss as you were fully exposed to the cool air. Ray had no problem warming you up as instructed earlier, one hand on your jaw to keep you from looking away, the other sweeping through your wet folds. He savored every sound you made, fueling his desires as he pushed his fingers inside of you. They were thicker than yours, filling you nicely as he worked them, stretching you out before you tried to take him. If his fingers were anything to go by, you were in for a long night.

His impatience got to him, and even though he had a lovely view watching you writhe and moan from just his fingers, he would kill to see you fall apart on his cock. You were in no way opposed to it, bucking your hips into his hand as his thumb rubbed your swollen clit, needing more with each passing second.

“Please,” you mumbled out, moaning against his lips as he kissed you.

He understood, not needing more than a small plea to take his fingers back, the whine you let out playing on repeat as he wriggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off as his cock stood proud before you. God, was he a sight for sore eyes, looking like he walked straight out of an erotica novel, dribbling precum as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him while he lined himself up between your legs.

Before he pushed in, he paused, knowing this was an inopportune moment to bring it up, but he craved reassurance. “You’re not… there’s no one else, right?”

You shook your head, shooting him a small grin, “Nope, just you.”

A sweet smile graced his face, kissing you once before thrusting in. He gave you a moment as he pushed in completely, waiting for a sign to keep going. A gentle nod and he kicked into gear, his hips snapping roughly against yours. His hands migrated to your hips, his grip firm as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace. Despite the powerful force he used, his eyes were gentle, making sure that you still wanted this.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, gaze lingering on your half-lidded eyes and kiss-bitten lips, slick and swollen as he kissed you.

Struggling to find words through your lust drunk haze, you pulled him closer, arms slung around his neck as you moaned against him, muscles winding tight from his relentless rhythm. Reluctantly, he pulled away, watching in awe as you came undone below him, breath stalling as he gave a few strong thrusts and slid out, coating your stomach in pure sin.

Exhaustion hung heavy in the room, the low temperature getting to you once more as you reached over to Ray, who laid flat on his back as he caught his breath.

“You okay?” he asked faintly, handing you a tissue from the nightstand to clean up the mess. You mumbled a small ‘thanks,’ unsure of how to answer.

You’d always been fond of him, typically talking to him more than the other guys, and spending as much time around him as you could. Your feelings hit you like a brick, realizing all the little things you did for him, unaware that it was because you were interested in him. Sure, you knew you felt differently about him compared to everyone else, but you never dwelled on it too much. You liked him, and he liked you too, which sounded pretty damn good in your opinion, smiling softly as you looked over at him.

“Is this a dream?” you asked, curling into his chest.

“If it is, I hope I never wake up,” he told you, pressing a sleepy goodnight kiss to the top of your head, holding you close just in case he woke up in the morning and you were gone. You didn’t mind, arms wrapped tightly around him as you slipped away into a peaceful slumber, happy to be held in the dark of the night.

taglist: @lubbockshusband @yachiiko @newgirlinhell @blackberryblossom @whothefuckisfranklero @griffinfinity @heaveaux @aliceblxck @ce-ci @halloweenbitch2764 @saywhaaaa

[cursivetalk]

can you do a ray toro smut?? like hes rlly rough, and has a thing for thighs. his thighs or the readers either or :) (fem reader if possible ty)

Of course! I'm so sorry that this took so long and I hope you don't mind that I chose a different format than usually. I really hope that I could incorporate the prompt in the right way; that was my first smut request

Here ya go:

Bed Activities

Ray Toro X F!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: smut, a bit of dirty talk, unprotected sex (be smart kids), a little on the rougher side I guess

Summary: you spend a lovely morning with your boyfriend

A/N: as always unedited because I'm me and please ignore the title I can't think of anything better

when Ray wants to have some fun with you, he likes to take his time

but sometimes he just can't refuse the tease of a good morning fuck

especially when he knows you have a hard day ahead of you

you're just waking up when you feel his hands on your thighs

they're not moving too much, just kneading the skin and opening your legs

neither of you is wearing more than underpants, the only piece of clothing you bothered to pull on after last night

"so soft baby" he whispers into your ear

his voice is so rough and deep from sleep

shudders run down your back and you roll on your back, stretching like a cat

Ray is right on top of you, his weight pressing you in the sheets

you feel a little weak between the mattress and his body, held in place and waiting for the things to come but it's okay because you trust him

your only warning is the almost predator like grin on Ray's face before he leans down for a bruising kiss

there is love in it but also a dominance that would have made your knees buckle if you weren't lying down already

while his left hand is pinning your hands over your body, his right hand is kneading your thigh

tweaking and twisting the sensitive flesh just shy of where you really want him to touch you

but God does this feel good too

Ray's knees are right between your legs, keeping them open and leaving you feel exposed and eager for his next actions

you attempt to reach up for him to thread your fingers through his hair, pull his head a little lower, to deepen the kiss a little more

Ray won't have it and keeps you right there

so you arch your body up, desperate for more skin on skin

when you get it, it's like lightning in your bloodstream

even after so many nights with him

his naked chest pressing down on your boobs, pressing down on the sensitive skin

you gasp into the kiss which allows Ray to push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, licking and nibbling on everything he can sink his teeth into

just for a teasingly slow moment though

then Ray is pulling away, moving up on his knees and staring down at you

your hair is a mess and you're panting already from his kisses

and Ray is grinning, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darker than usually

"I'm gonna fuck you good, baby"

all you can do is moan incoherently

the hand that has been teasing you finally moves the two inches where you want it to be

your panties are soaked and Ray can feel it

you see the exact moment he realises

his pupils dilute and his mouth comes back down on yours

now the kiss feels almost like a claiming, breath hot and lips rough

you are far from complaining

the fingers inside your panties are pushing with intent along your hole, dipping inside once and spreading your wetness all over

he lets go of your lips and kisses his way over your jaw to your ear

"so wet for me Y/N" he mumbles against it and takes your earlobe between his teeth

at the same time that he bites down on it, he presses two fingers inside of you

the sound that leaves you makes you feel grateful that you don't have neighbors behind the next wall

he's keeping up a quick pace right from the beginning, long fingers reaching deep inside of you and fucking you open

"so tight around my fingers, you're gonna feel so good on my cock"

every word sends another wave of pleasure into your core and you push back into the strokes

when he feels your pussy clenching down on his fingers, Ray pulls them out abruptly, taking your panties on the way

you whine in protest and free your hands to pull him back

Ray is faster

before you can do anything about it, he is back between your legs, the blunt tip of his cock resting on your entrance

naturally, you try to persuade him to use it accordingly but he moves away from your hips

"desperate, are we?"

the smirk is both in his voice and on his face while a sheen of sweat is making a few loose locks stick to his head

finally, you can push your fingers into them and tug all you want

"just fuck me already"

"if that's what you want Darling"

and with one long stroke he pushes inside

this time, he gives you a moment to adjust to his size

when he's sure you okay, he starts moving again

at first, Ray holds himself back just a little, his strokes controlled but forceful

until you dig your nails into his back and your lips locked on his neck

then, he starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping into yours in an erratic rhythm

you can only gasp at the sudden change

without another warning, Ray breaks the kiss, leans up and wraps both of his hands under your thighs, lifting you up from the bed just a little bit

his fingernails, scrape over your skin, just under where he is fucking you

the different angle means also that with the next thrust, Ray hits directly against your g-spot

next thing you know is white hot pleasure making you impossibly more wet and clench down hard

you know that you won't last long if he keeps this rhythm up and you want to tell him so

but then, Ray suddenly presses down on your clit as well

you haven't even noticed his hand moving until he's drawing urgent circles over the bundle of nerves

it kicks you right over the edge into a forceful orgasm

your whole body tenses while your pussy is clenching and unclenching rhythmically around Ray's cock that is still keeping up his relentless pace

he fucks you straight through your orgasm and the aftershocks and doesn't give you anytime to recover

you whine, temporarily overtaken by overstimulation

"can you give me one more? Can you come again for me baby?"

Ray is whispering into your ear again while his hips are moving steadily and his hands are holding your legs wrapped around him

you know you can, you can feel it building up again already

so you nod and push back again

his fingers come back to your clit, pressing and coaxing while his cock pushes impossibly deeper

now the strokes come more erratically, telling you that he is close as well

he's panting now, mouth trailing wet open mouthed kisses all along your neck and jaw

a handful of thrusts later, you can feel him swell inside of you, pulsing and filling you up

the feeling of Ray coming inside of you, his mouth on your skin and his hands roaming all over you make you lose it again

you ride out your orgasms, strokes slow and lazy now until Ray all but collapses on top of you

you don't mind much, too exhausted to protest

you're panting and you can feel Ray's galloping heartbeat against your own so you push until he rolls off of you to give you room to breathe

"fucking hell"

"you're welcome"

opposing to his cocky voice, there is a soft smile on Ray's face as he turns and pulls you right back against him

So you bite back the snarky retort and give in to the satisfied sleepiness

a few more minutes probably won't hurt

-

Taglist: @immrbrightsideeee

[panickedvulture]

Bittersweet [002]

Bittersweet is a con-artist!Brendon Urie x barista!Reader AU, and also a “We know each other but we don’t know we know each other” AU.

Warnings: Profanity, Kleptomania, Con-Artist AU, TØP and MCR cameos

A/n: NGL I wrote this a while ago. I have the next part written (it’s to bridge a time gap so it’s not too content heavy). Part four, however...is where the real fun will begin...Enjoy :) 

For once Tyler's doing work today, partially because you haven’t been able to take your eyes off your phone since you left your apartment. You walked to your station, didn’t even put your apron on for a good twenty minutes, and so far you’ve only been interrupted by Josh’s confused stares and Tyler asking how to make everything.

You’ve spent the day revisiting your high-school colleague’s Instagrams, looking for you and the guy who insisted you call “Clyde” in the background of every photo. It started with going to Jenna’s account, searching through her followers for some names guaranteed to have been there, then going ham with your detective skills.

And yet you haven’t found anything. Maybe it’s good there’s no photo evidence (as far as you know) of you and Clyde, considering you did manage to snatch a couple thousand dollars worth of jewelry which you gasp recalling considering you’re fairly certain you chucked your clothes off you the second you walked into your bedroom….you’ll have to look for those later.

You have managed to find—“Y/n, Toro alert,” Tyler interrupts your thoughts, plucking your phone from your hands and leaving you stunned and against the counter. He forces a smile before slipping your phone in his back pocket and nudging you toward your latest customer. You instinctively smile at them and go to ask for their order, but after processing who they are all you can do is choke on some laughter.

“Oh! Brendon! Uh, hi…what can I get for ya?”

He’s back again, Brendon Urie, just as formally dressed today as he was yesterday albeit a little less put together. He’s wearing a black collared shirt and black jeans. Pretty much the same thing but there’s an irritated look to his face.

He twists his lips to the side as he looks to his phone and mumbles, “Sorry.”

You take his silence to look off into space and think back to the morning you’ve had.

Your boss Ray knocks you out of your state when he slips past you, saying bye then waving to you all working before walking out the door, his things packed up in his bag and his jacket hung over his forearm. 

“Heh, sorry.” Brendon puts his phone down on the counter and looks up to the menu. “Uh, the usual?”

You suck your lip in between your teeth. It takes him a moment to realize he hasn’t been as much of a regular as he thinks he has so he calrifies with, “Uh, Sickly Strawberry.” He grins and pats his fingers against the counter. “Please…”

“Ah, I see. It’s the usual now is it?”

“Heh, as far as I can see.”

Brendon watches you grab a cup, and after you hold up a medium and make sure he’s fine with the size (he is, so he nods), he watches you scribble his name on the side in blue ink. Last time it was red, and he feels a bit foolish for being so bummed by the change but he doesn’t bring it up.

“One Sickly Strawberry coming right up!” You’re as enthusiastic as you can be. Honestly, his presence helps that, and you go about making his drink while he stays at the counter.

He doesn’t move, not even when Tyler comes and stands beside you. Tyler leans, elbow against the cool (and sticky) countertop while he speaks softly and nods toward the door. “Ray’s gone you know, I’ll take care of this.” You hum, hoping he’ll elaborate, and you suppose he does when he takes advantage of your loose grip on the cup and takes it for himself. He moves it enough to remove it from your grasp but keeps it right where it’s supposed to be as the machine does its work. “That strawberry drink, right?”

You raise a brow at him and he lowers his, looking at you from behind them. “Uh…yeah?” You say, then sputter, “it’s fine, I got it.” You grab the cup but he doesn’t budge.

He instead lowers his voice and drops his chin to his chest. “Don’t worry about it Y/n. You’ve been out of it all day.” You give in, letting him take the cup and he goes to continue the job and blend the strawberries with the ice and milk.

When he has nothing to do but watch the blades do their work he reaches into his pocket and hands you your phone. He spares you a glance, then goes back to keeping them trained on the drink.

You stay beside him and take a peek at Brendon, on his phone and swaying softly in his spot. Then your phone buzzes. The sensation against your hand is enough to make you jump and elicit a look off worry from Tyler, but after giving him a shaky smile you check your notifications.

A message from Clyde.

Tyler starts tapping his foot to the beat of some song too soft and far-off, especially with the blender right by your ears. You watch him push himself to his tip-toes and stretch back, slyly trying to get a glimpse at your screen. 

Normally you would question what inspired him to work so efficiently, but first of all, it’s not like you’ve ever gotten the chance to because it’s far from normal. And second of all your mind’s too damn occupied with the events of last night to really care. It was an adrenaline pumping affair infused with sexual tension and the feeling of holding more than your net-worth in one hand. And suddenly the sky’s dim today, the clouds hang over casting the world in a gloom, and that makes it the perfect environment for a packed crowd. Knowing it’s no longer Halloween or the month of October makes it slightly bearable, but a lot more boring.

Tyler chuckles, “Guess it worked out with you and Clyde.”

“Huh?” You look at your screen. Huh, you forgot that fast. Well, that single message has jumped up to seven. You quirk a brow and open your messages. You can only get a peek at the paragraphs before looking away and blinking in surprise. They have a frantic attitude attached to all of them. You squeeze your eyes shut and groan.

“No wonder you’re so occupied.”

You groan again and whine softly, stamping your foot to the ground and twisting your body to face Tyler as he tops the drink with whipped cream. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know….just that you two seem to have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah…” You sigh.

“So…” There’s a click as he pops the lid onto Brendon’s drink, still standing there and typing away at his phone. Tyler keeps his voice down and nods over at him. “Still want me to be your wingman with him?”

You scoff and Tyler presses his lips together tight, shrugging. “Of course I do!” You say and he blinks in surprise.

“Oh?”

You nod rapidly. “That,” you roll your eyes and spit, “Clyde guy wasn’t even a fling.”

“I…see?” You walk around Tyler and grab the drink. He keeps his eyes squinted and on you, trying to figure out what exactly could be going on between you two. He doesn’t want to prod and despite knowing you for such a short time he believes you when you say it’s not a fling, but doesn’t quite trust the idea of nothing going on. Nothing at all.

You slam the drink down in front of Brendon, keeping your fingers wrapped around the bottom of the cup. Brendon picks his head up, almost slipping his phone into his back pocket before noticing your whole body and eyes still turned to Tyler.

“It was not a fling.” You assure him.

“Not a fling,” he repeats, stepping closer. You nod and smile, not bothering to stop him when he takes your phone and skims over the messages. Your arm is still stretched out to Brendon as you wait for him to take the drink.

It takes a moment to occur to you that this Clyde fellow’s learned more about you in one night than Tyler has in his months (and then some) of working alongside you. You see Tyler wince and scrunch his face up in confusion, and it’s then when you remember that whole, stealing jewelry from Jenna’s house thing. Those messages aren’t just the messages of some college boy you made the mistake of hanging out with. They’re messages that potentially reveal burglary, which is nice.

Your chest puffs up and you snatch your phone from Tyler, leaving him staring down with a blank look. He runs his tongue over his lips and chuckles, “So he’s just a clingy madman isn’t he?”

“Total, absolute, madman.” You and Tyler laugh about it for a moment, including poor Brendon in an awkward moment of silence as you and Tyler smile knowingly at each other.

Brendon lets out a chuckle, getting both of your attention.

“Oh!” Tyler hisses, pushing your body aside, but your arm still stretches to give Brendon his drink. “Sorry about that.” Tyler sliders over Ray’s iPad and starts up the transaction process. He sniffles and juts his thumb over to point at you. “Body problems.”

You flash Brendon a forced smile before kicking Tyler’s foot. He jumps a bit and looks down. Before holding his hand out for Brendon, expecting a “Card?” Tyler asks, but Brendon just pulls out some cash. Tyler nods, impressed, then mutters “That’ll do,” before giving Brendon his change.

Brendon’s still yet to grab his drunk. He just chuckles, “Boy problems?” Then wraps his hand around the top of the cup but he doesn’t make any effort to take it away so you stay in your awkward, stretched out position and continue to grip the cup.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah it’s just—”

“She met herself a madman last night.”

Brendon furrows his brows at you then looks to Tyler for an explanation. You see Brendon’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack for a second before shutting tight, and he resorts to letting his eyes bounce all over the rest of Tyler, just not his face.

“Eh, you remember Jenna Black from school, right?”

You and Brendon look to Tyler for an explanation. Brendon looks put on the spot—you guess he is--then he looks down at himself, nodding softly and mumbling.

“Sorry,” Tyler says and points at him, “but you are Brendon Urie, right?” Tyler goes to fist-bump Brendon, which Brendon participates in as he slowly starts to remember—seems to at least.

“Yeah yeah, Tyler Joseph, Edmond’s class?” He blows out a breath, “Geesh, sorry.” He cracks a smile and scratches his head. “ Just been a bit out of it lately, how you doing man?” Brendon crosses his arms tight over his chest, so you pull the drink closer to you, nudging Tyler to the left to give yourself some room.

You watch their small exchange, a smile on your face despite not being included. Before Tyler gets a chance to spill his recent life story, Brendon points to you with furrowed brows and bites into his lip. You shake your head at him and hold up a hand in some sort of defense, already knowing where he’s heading. “You wouldn’t remember me.” He looks defeated at your insistence. “Our paths just didn’t cross is all.”

Brendon groans, “God, I feel so—so weird. It’s like everything’s just coming back to me now…Sorry, I uh—”

“Seriously. You wouldn’t remember me.” You look to Tyler, hoping he’ll back you up.

Truth be told you had your fair share of interactions with Brendon. You ran into each other at a few parties, got stuck together during a few school projects too. But you often gave him the go-ahead to slack off and let you do the work. There was nothing wrong with a few deducted points for citing poor sources as long as it was your mistake and your mistake alone. And your partner often got to mooch off of your frequent success—your work was usually a much-needed boost to their grade. 

Even Tyler seems to recall some of your real interactions but says, “She’s right. She spent all of her time picking on me (“I did not!”) and talking to the trees.” He smiles.

You scoff and mumble, “Think you’re talking about yourself there Ty…”

Brendon points at you. “Actually…did we have, science, together? Maybe? And uh—drama?”

You nod and Brendon’s face lights up. Tyler looks down at the counter as he taps his fingers against it from his index to his pinkie, then he repeats.

“Huh…” Brendon finally takes his drink, then you’re standing identical to Tyler with your fingers mindlessly tapping to an invisible beat. “Y/n Y/l/n?” He laughs seeing how surprised you are.

“Uh, yeah,” you manage.

Brendon hums to himself and looks between you and Tyler. “Weird. Heh…never pegged you two as friends.”

Tyler looks at you but shakes his head. “Well we—”

“Aren’t really friends.” Tyler deflates and sucks in a breath but forces a smile. You don’t really notice the way he holds his breath and strains to act natural—or maybe you do but figure it’s nothing. You continue, “If anything we hate each other.” Okay so maybe that was a bit harsh and not exactly true.

Tyler leans forward and holds a finger up. “Used to hate each other.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. “But we’re beeeesssstttt friends now, aren’t we Y/n?” He smiles and you scoff in playful disgust, trying to push him off you. Brendon nods and smiles at your strange display of friendship.

“What was that?” Josh asks, leaning back and popping his head through the small doorway separating the two stations that make up the food and drink assembling section of the cafe. He raises his brows and presses his chin to his chest, looking at Tyler with wide eyes and a soft smile.

Tyler smiles back at Josh, the balls of his cheeks rising so high that creases start to form in his forehead. “Nothing!” He chirps, and Josh looks at you for reassurance. You know he’s joking but damn it’s actually kind of intimidating.

You smile and wave, “Just talking about how you’re Tyler’s best friend Joshy! Nothing to worry about!” Josh presses his lips together and shrugs, pleased with your response, then goes back to work.

Brendon furrows his brows. “Josh, as in Josh Dun?” You nod and Brendon huffs. He scratches the back of his head, “Geesh, the whole gang’s back together huh?”

Tyler takes his hand from your shoulder and instead cups his hands together in front of his crotch. He does a strange and over-exaggerated bow as he spits out, “Ab-so-lutely!” Well, you were never really apart of the ‘gang’ but it’s nice just thinking of all the shenanigans you three could have gotten in if you and Tyler actually got along and didn’t want to slit each other’s throats…anyways!

Tyler looks back to the machines, then looks past Brendon where a mother and her young daughter have just come in. Tyler puts his hands on your shoulders and pushes you out from behind the counter. “You know what—lots of work to do. Uh, Y/, Brendon, how about you two catch up for a bit?”

Brendon looks more willing then you, as he shrugs and takes a step away from the counter to wait for you. You still try to force out a response to reference your confusion with Tyler’s suddenness, but can’t. By the time you figure out what you could say, he’s pushed you out, untied the apron from your waist, and begun waving you goodbye.

“Wh-Tyler!” You try going back but Tyler stands in front of the counter’s only entrance. He smiles at you, then puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you back some more. 

You give in when you see the new customers approach the counter, and Brendon grins at you. He takes a deep breath and twists his middle around to look for a place to sit. 

“Uh…shall we?” He asks, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You look at Tyler and he flashes a manic smile then goes back to scribbling down the mother’s order. You nod and sway your hands forward, gesturing for Brendon to lead the way.

And he does, bringing you to that quaint and comforting little corner of the cafe with the leather seats and working outlets. You stray behind him, and wait for him to pick a seat—he picks the one against the wall—before slipping into the one across him. 

He immediately pulls out his phone and looks down to it on his lap. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head softly before putting it back in its place. Then he smiles at you and cups his hands around his drink. You smile back but can’t bring yourself to look at him or look into his eyes—your relationship just isn’t there yet.

You suddenly long to be back behind the counter, but you look and see Tyler working just fine which means you can’t make the excuse that he needs you desperately as a way to get out of this situation. 

“So…how have uh…how’ve you been?” He smiles softly, tilting his head to the side.

You hum, trying to think up an answer. How have you been? Well, you have an apartment, you have a steady job—you have not been outed out to the police for stealing Mrs. Black’s jewelry, so you suppose you’re, “Alright. I’m alright, I guess.” You laugh at that and Brendon joins you.

“That’s good…that’s good…so what are you up to nowadays? You know, besides, working here.”

“Well, I’m afraid to say that’s all I really have going for me. Well, that and school.”

His eyes widen and he nods his head up, “Oh! Where do you go?”

“Online. You know, I was just never really a fan of social interaction at least not to the extent of a school setting…” you crack a smile and look down at your lap, “As you may have guessed from my high school days.” 

Brendon leans back and takes a sip of his drink before setting it down. He looks to the ceiling and smiles, “Oh, I remember. From what I remember of you at least.”

“Well if you don’t remember much then that’s proof enough, isn’t it?”

“Heh, I guess it is…”

He looks over to Tyler but keeps his body still. His body goes stiff too as he holds his breath and clenches his jaw a bit. “So…you and…? Dea—”

“Tyler?”

Brendon forces a smile and nods rapidly “Yeah yeah, Tyler, you and Tyler!” He gulps and settles down. “So uhm…You and Tyler, what’s going on with you, and Mr. Joseph.” Brendon rolls his eyes at himself—he slipped up in a way he beats himself up about because he clearly doesn’t understand how he could have lost track so quickly, he was having a conversation with the guy less than five minutes ago, reminiscing and such. How could he have mistaken his name so easily?

You shrug his slip-up off and chalk it up to his preppiness shining through. You hate to admit something so small has made your respect dwindle a bit, but you can’t help but feel he’s only pretending to care (or trying to) as a way to make up for his tendency to be an ass in high school. He was never an ass to you, and you’re not really sure if he was ever an ass to others, but it’s the type of persona he exuded when you saw him walking through the halls looking like Sarah Orzechowski's’ trophy husband.

“What, was our banter back there not enough for you?” You look back to Tyler, still working and unable to pay attention to you.

Brendon shrugs. “No, I just—I couldn’t tell if you guys were best friends or if you hated each other’s guts and were doing that thing where you’re just acting like your best friends out of spite.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. No we uh, we’re friends? I think?” You tuck some hair behind your ear and look out through the window. 

“You think?”

“Well…I never really gave him the time of day until yesterday.” 

Brendon Ooohs in curiosity like a schoolboy and sits up. “What happened yesterday?”

Should you tell him? Could you tell him? It’s not like he’d give a damn, right?

“Eh. I just took him to this party.”

He slumps back down in his chair, going “Oh,” somewhat dissatisfied. Then his eyes bounce back and forth between you and Tyler, and he sits up again and lets out a more enthusiastic, “Oh!” He looks a bit worried too. “What-where, which party?”

“Just a girl from school.” 

He nods, hoping you’ll continue. After all, he went to school with you.

“Jenna Black? Remember her?” Brendon smiles eerily then nods. “Well, remember that ‘Mad-Man’ Tyler was going on about earlier? Well, he was at her party last night. It’s a weird thing to bond over but it’s the only thing me and him have ever bonded over so I guess I should just enjoy it, right?”

Brendon huffs, “Yeah. Uhm, what made him a ‘mad-man’? Was he just a douche or something?” He takes a sip and hums as he finds the chill overwhelming.

You raise your brows, waiting to see when the brain freeze has blown over, and when he gives you a thumbs up you elaborate. “Well, he wasn’t really a mad-man. He wasn’t mean or gropey or anything…Well…” You suppose he could have been considered that. You see a flash of worry on Brendon’s face when you hesitate but you don’t give him time to express his worry further. “Anyways, he respected my boundaries. He was just a little weird.”

Whether or not a man proposing you become his partner-in-crime is a mad-man or exhilarating is subjective. The problem is you can’t figure out which side you’re on. 

As you ponder on this and allow Brendon to try and visualize the situation you’ve presented, you pull out your phone and get a look at Clyde’s texts. He shut up a few minutes ago. You scroll all the way to the top where he graced your screen for the first time by sending a strawberry emoji. What follows is paragraphs of ranging size and the content is not what you could imagine coming out of Clyde’s mouth. Well, you only ever saw the man in top-notch skeleton makeup, you could hardly make out the shape of his lips. 

You squint as you look to the messages, and seeing how you’re preoccupied Brendon takes his phone out. You don’t know how to respond to Clyde. He goes on about mistakes and contingency plans, double checking to see if you’re really up for anything. 

I’m not gonna bail on you. Chill out

You send and exit your messages but he right on top of that, responding with:

Just making sure.

You look up at Brendon and flash him a smile, waving your phone around a bit. “Sorry—mad-man.” He chuckles nervously and nods then goes back to doing what he was doing, looking down at his phone with his hand pressed over his lips.

As long as its all in good fun. No smuggling a man’s fortune just to pig out, alright?

Brendon nods and you peak up at him. Then Clyde responds.

All in good fun. Legal, but fun.

You crack a smile. There’s nowhere else to go from there’s so you set your phone screen-down on the table. You take a breath. “Sorry, about that.”

Brendon purses his lips and nods, typing away but keeping his eyes on you. “You gave the man-man your phone number?” He chuckles and bites into his lip as he reads over what he writes. You stretch your neck and get the faintest peak at his screen, but the messages are unreadable anyhow. Besides, whatever paragraph he was working on he deletes with a few quick taps against the ‘delete’ key. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s more like he bugged me to give it to him.”

“…And you gave in?”

Yeah, you kinda did. But still, you try to explain yourself. “Well, I mean—”

“Heh, Y/n, you don’t give your number to some guy you call a ‘mad-man.’” You get where he’s coming from and you have a feeling in no time you’ll be cursing yourself for your foolishness but what can you say? Boredom is a bitch and you’re at the epitome of it. 

“I’ll keep you updated.” 

After you conclude your conversation with Clyde Brendon seems to finish his and is more focused on your conversation. You don’t stay sat in the quaint corner for too long—unless thirty minutes in a coffee-shop is long but oh well.

Tyler’s getting on well behind the counter and though the crowd is a large one it builds steadily. He’s given enough time in-between drinks to relax and observe you and Brendon when he’s not bugging Josh, but you don’t find yourself returning the attention.

Your talk with Brendon is nice. It’s simple and ordinary, but nice. It’s the things you would normally catch up on, like asking if you’ve heard any news about this person or that person from your class and going back to talk crap about the teachers you dealt with and the things you saw. There’s some sweeter reminiscing too, like going back to share memories of your science teacher and that riot of a class. 

Brendon finished his drink some time ago and has been going back to play with the straw, forgetting every time that there’s nothing in the cup to slosh around.

You look over to see Tyler, his side facing you as he looks past the threshold ‘officially’ separating your station and Josh’s. Then you look through the window, people walking past at hurried paces—a group of ‘kids’ in particular, one rushing forward to hold the door open for the rest.

You scoot your chair back, gripping the seat. “I uhm, I should probably go…” You stand and Brendon stands too.

“Oh yeah yeah no problem,” he says, looking down and around the floor to make sure he hasn’t dropped anything. Then he smiles at you and your hand, stretched out and hoping he’ll shake it. He chuckles a bit at the formal-nature of your goodbye, but takes your hand and shakes it as he pushes his chair in.

You can’t think of anything else to do. You’ve already said your goodbye and there’d be no point in wishing him a good rest of his day (well, you could but it seems a bit too formal), so you go to slip on by him when he reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist.

You think nothing of it—you don’t even jump—but he recoils almost as though your skin is hot to the touch and he hisses, “Sorry! I uhm, just—”

“Oh don’t worry about it.”

He nods his head up then continues, “I wanted to know uh, what time are you working…maybe?” He slips a hand in his back pocket and runs the other through his hair. “If you’re willing to share that is—I understand if you’re not.”

“Oh it’s fine! Uh, I always work around this time but if I’m not here to make your daily drink Tyler’s not so bad at it either evidently.” You gesture for his cup, empty with some white and pink staining the plastic sides.

He clicks his tongue. “Ah, I see. And I take it that going out for coffee wouldn’t be the most ideal way to spend your time off of work?”

You suck in a breath and shake your head. “Yeah, I get enough coffee in my veins.”

“So…”

You teeter between the toes and your heels, turning your nose up and giving Brendon a look of your side. You smirk too, “I haven’t had a good meal in a while.”

Brendon leans back, nodding softly. “Mmm…good to know, good to know—well listen, totally coincidental, but I got a good place I was looking to go to for some time, but you know, it can be a bit awkward going out to eat alone.”

You chuckle, “And what day were you planning on going to this place?”

He lowers his chin to his chest and points a finger at you. “Next mon—” You scrunch your nose up, “Tues—” You gently shake your head, “Wednesday?” 

You nod rapidly, gently bouncing on your feet. “Wow—weird! I’m, totally free next Wednesday, how crazy is that?”

“I know, it’s just like the universe decided to line up!”

“Total coincidence!”

“Totally!” Brendon takes a deep breath then quickly runs his tongue over his lips. You look to the corner of your eye and spot Tyler, his head down low as he makes a drink but his eyes peeking up at you from behind his brows. He’s smiling too, and you smile back before looking to Brendon who claps his hands together. “So, I will pick you up? Maybe?”

You click your tongue and put your finger to your lips to think. “Maybe you should give me your number first? You know, so I can give you my address and such.”

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together then hold your hand out and wait for him to give you his phone. He does and you add yourself to his contacts. You send yourself a quick text and fight the urge to go back and take the quickest glimpse at his other messages--you want to see who from school he’s still in contact with is all. But thinking better of yourself you don’t. You lock his phone and hand it to him. 

“Well…” He takes a look around the cafe, then does a sort of bow. “I will see you tomorrow? For my casual daily cup of Sickly Strawberry that is.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You go back to your station to share your usual space with Tyler and Brendon makes his way out of the cafe. He looks around and snaps his finger into a point at Tyler as some sort of goodbye. Brendon nearly stumbles and almost runs into an incoming customer but his general gracefulness saves him. After he’s out of sight you feel Tyler’s arm brush against yours. You stand side by side against the counter, looking over the heads of the customers approaching the line.

“I’m really good at this wing-man thing,” he says with a sly smile.

You roll your eyes and playfully slap his arm with the back of your hand before walking off.

He stomps and holds his hands out to his side as he faces you. “You’re not even gonna tell me when’s the date?”

[pkmntrainergreyze]

I Am Up To No Good Pt. 1 (Pete Wentz x Reader)

a/n: Sorry I didn't updated so quickly, I had tons of drafts I want to finish all at the same time! I learned that I can do things one at a time.

I noticed I've been leaning more on First Person POV, I'll try to make this in 2nd. Also, I couldn't think of the character names so I used my friends' OCs. I hope you'd like this modern HP!Au

----------

Pete had always been the friend you love to hate. Whether the circumstances involve the Hogsmeade games or not, in the end he'll always be the man you'll call for help when pranking Brendon or bricking Joe's Samsung.

Yeah, usually the "hate" intensifies when it's the infamous decking halls season. Especially when old Mrs Minerva initiates the Hogsmeade field trip, which she also did this year. The duels in form of curses— whether work of magic or foul mouths— it's what made the Hogsmeade games so popular.

The magic of your friendship had been slipping lately, a shame really. He rarely ever joins your party, putting your letters back to the rejected-Pete-invites mailbox.

Now's the 27th invite, and you prayed prank wars will spark your friendship once more.

So here's to the fifth anniversary of the Hogsmeade games

You created a group

Nicole Row What's this group for?

You named the group Genius Ravenclaws

Andy Hurley I'm honored

Dallon Weekes I failed divinations why am I here?

Ray Toro Good evening everyone

You  Hey genuises

Nicole Row set his name to Nic

Dallon Weekes set his name to DJazzy

You Where do you find trolls?

Nic ?

Ray Toro What for?

You Pete

Dallon Why do you insist on participating.

Nic Forbidden forest. Saw one near Hagrid's place, almost made an unbreakable vow

Ray Toro Maybe it's about time you stop? Let me remind you last time you got the all of us in detention

You Thanks guys

Nic Don't tell Hagrid I said that

Andy Hurley Are you sure you're not a slytherin??? @Nic?? Seen by Nic, Dallon and Ray Toro

You went offline.

You dove back to your azure blue bed.  The bedsheet engulfed you in a light hug in seconds. The more you sunk, the more you can sniff the 4th year's "love potion" project, like yesterday, it reeks of wood, mint and... vinegar?

You hooked your hand to the edge of the mattress and kicked high enough for you to reach the faraway lamp. Before you could complain about the smell you heard a distinct cough, a very gutteral one. Almost intended.

You turned to look, only to see a disappointed Hufflepuff in a riddle secured Ravenclaw dorm.

The dandelion haired boy lingered beside your nightstand. He pulled his hand back as he saw the lights flicker on. When your eyes met he immediately fixed his tie and took a deep breath.

"I heard the game's still on" He's soaked in what seemed to be his house's trap. The acid slid into your nostrils. Your immediate action was to grab your wand. You waved it and like magic— no, with magic, the awful stench was gone and his cloak's dried.

Patrick muttered "thank you"

He rubbed his shirt and smiled a bit "I was absent when Miss Quills taught that" Thankfully he went for one of the brightest witch of the year, but the gleam in your eyes told him no excuses.

"Were you also absent when Sir Ford taught us the hot-air charm?"

"Um, yeah.... that seemed to be the case" He chuckled. He ruffled his hair and avoided your eyes. No, I didn't understand a word Mr Ford said.

You chuckled.

"Understood" You chirped "but why are you here? How did you got here?"

Patrick looked at you as if he was expecting for you to know the answer to life's toughest questions, then cleared his throat. His eyes balled around, reluctant to answer

"Pete"

When the name rolled off his tongue you dashed and dug your wand in his neck. He yelped, taking large steps backward, nearly tumbling down. His terrified eyes had no effect on your daunted aura. His lips wobbled and nose scrunched. You directed your malice at him. Eyes twitching in anger.

"Talk."

"HetoldmethepasswordfortheHufflepuffdormchangedandsaidIshouldaskMikeybutthenitturnsoutitwasn'ttherealMikeyitwasBrendonUrieandhetoldmethepasswordwasSherbertLemonsbutitwasn'tandoneofthebarrelsspiltvinegaralloverme—

"Um" You stopped kneading his cloak "Say what?"

Once you held back he scurried two feet apart from you. He took a Marina's Trench deep breath, before he attempted to rap.

"PetewillneverstopteasingmeandIneedreveng—

"Are you trying to copy Eminem, the Rap God or Ryan Ross?" You furrowed your eyebrows. "Cause honestly, no one knows what Ryan tells his girlfriend"

He raised both his hands, and bended his spine down. He bowed down for seven times till his chanting morphed into something audible

"please let me help you in the Hogsmeade games..."

With that, you clapped both hands to his shoulder. You turned your head up, and greeted him with sun bright eyes with zigzag smile crooked enough to scare him.

"Permission granted"

You both entered a dim room at seven pm.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" You asked. The blonde nodded and swiped the curtains up.

"Yeah, from what I've heard, Miss Clovette stores it in her chest"

You gave him one last stare before you scurried to find said chest. The Hufflepuff said the box is supposed to look give a luxurious and ancient vibe. You checked under the table, around the bookshelves, stumped the floorboards for a secret passage— alas, nothing.

You turned back to Patrick, defeated and skeptical.

"You said this was the place?"

"I'm sure it's here somewhere," He bit his bottom lip "I saw the third years practicing the riddiko-what-lous charm in it"

You can faintly remember that Bogarts were part of your brother's lesson, and he's a third year. If your recollection is correct then Patrick's statement wouldn't be so far fetched. He grinded his teeth, fingers subconsciously sneaking up his mouth. You sighed. What's his motif anyways?

While you turn books and scraps around, you asked questions.

"What did you say your reason to help me was again?" You paused for a bit. You levitated another pile with your wand and Patrick mimicked your movements, before he gave up and had to use labor instead.

Patrick groaned as he dispatched another pile aside. The weight lifted from his chest set him eased him. He wiped his brow.

"Payback"

Shame, for a Ravenclaw you find yourself completely puzzled. You opened your mouth but shut it. You tried to think about an image of Patrick and Pete arguing but none were valid in your standards. Besides, the only moments you see the two together is in Quidditch.

But the word does compliment a hot ass like Pete's, so you let your experiences talk for itself.

"As much as I want to believe me, cause everyone knows Pete can be a dick" Patrick chuckled slightly, which made you huff a laugh too "—Aren't you two the bestest of friends?"

Patrick frozed

"Y-you" He gawked "You don't get it do you?"

You shook your head "No, why?"

"He forces himself that he's my quote on quote" He drew an air quotation mark

"—Best friend, treats me like his personal entertainment at reunions, finds a way to push my buttons, makes a scene, next thing I know I had him covered in purple paint and have detention!"

"Wait" You poked his chest "Good boy Patrick is in detention?!"

You refused to believe such thing. Maybe Patrick is in Pete's side of the war on this one.

He squalled "What's more disappointing is that you actually thought Pete and I are close!"

You scowled "well it's not that farfetched, you're cousins and Quidditch fanatics"

"Yeah, but it gets annoying how Slytherin wins all the time"

"Cause Hufflepuffs are weak"

He squeaked. The voice was dark but it cheeped like a bird. It didn't felt natural.

You made sure you focused on Patrick, and only him, even when his crooked finger pointed behind.

"Patrick...." You cooed "take out your wand"

He whimpered "W-why?!"

"Just do it"

"Aww Patrick's quivering, look at his eyes (Y/n)! Look at him!"

You tried eyeing the man behind you but your eyes reached it's peak. You don't need to look to know what it was, the cold shivers down your spine spiked a wave to your left brain.

"You know the spell"

Patrick gulped and with shaking hands, he reached for his pockets. It took him a while to feel the edge of his wand, before he slowly aimed above your shoulder.

He took a deep breath

"Riddikulus!"

You turned around quick and tried to contain the Bogart. However, when you did, you saw nothing. You looked from left to right, then found the answer down below.

An egg wearing eyeliner.

"Didn't thought it would work" He gasped in disbelief

"So... is turning Pete into a hard boiled egg one of your wildest dreams?" You smirked, in which he returned with a shrug and toothy grin.

"You could say that" He chuckled "last Christmas he told the entire Stumph and Wentz family when making eggnogs that he usually scrambles eggs but would fertilize them for some quote on quote crazy superfine lasses—"

"Alright! Alright!" You covered your ears, feigning innocence "I don't need to know that!"

Patrick grabbed the egg and pursed it to his abyss-like bag. You avoided gazing at it. Everyone would prefer not to look directly at their fear, unless paid with a million galleons perhaps.

"Is it in?"

"That sounds awfully dirty" Patrick shivered. With the amount of time he must've spent with Pete his quotes rubbed off him. You smacked him directly at the head without looking. You felt sorta proud of your achievement and guilty at the same time.

"Merlin's beard, just tell me!"

"Yes, it's in the bag"

This is going to be a long week, ain't it?

----------

a/n: Sorry Pete's barely in here. He appears more on the next parts, I just wanna cut things off so it wouldn't last 5k like last imagines. Promise I'll try to make up for it.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Broken Up - Ray Toro x Reader

Request: I read your oneshots both here and on Wattpad and I was wondering if you could either make an Andy or Ray x reader? Thanks!! Also, I love your work! And another wondering : are you gi gonna publish a book with just one person x reader or? :)

Word count: 2 356

A/N: I did this really short book with Ryan Ross x Reader, called ‘The Grey City’, and I’m thinking about doing something with Gerard x Reader, but I haven’t written anything for that one yet.

You really did not want to go to this ‘party’. It was no party in the sense of loud music and getting drunk, it was a party where you had elegant snacks and champagne and talked civilly to people you had never met before. You always hated these social events, where you had to pretend to be actually interested in things you would rather not hear about ever again, but your best friend had invited you and they had organized this party, so you could not say no.

Maybe the real reason for your hesitation to turn up was and entirely different one. You knew he would be there.

You had not talked to him in almost a month now, neither had you seen him or texted him. But that did not mean that he was not constantly on your mind. You could hardly get through ten minutes without thinking about him at least once. And this last month had probably been the worst in your life.

It had been a long relationship, a steady one, as you had always believed. You had met Ray for the first time while you were working in a music store. He had been a regular visitor, often spending hours just looking around. After a while he started talking to you, and then he invited you for coffee after your shift was over. You went out more often after that, and about a month later you started dating.

You were still not sure how it had ended so quickly, why it had ended. After almost two years of harmony, happiness and love, everything had blown up one evening. Had it been because of his band, because he was rarely home? Had it been because your shifts were at the weirdest times, making it almost impossible for the two of you to spend some time together? Had it been because you liked sleeping with an opened window, and he liked it closed? Had it been because secretly he had been hurt that your parents did not like him? Looking back at it now, it seemed like all these problems were easy to solve, especially because your boss had suddenly given you different shifts, but at that point it was already too late.

It had been almost eleven pm on a warm August night, when Ray had stormed out of your shared apartment, face angry and red, tears swimming in his eyes. You had broken down on the living room floor, crying your eyes out for hours. You were hurt and it was even worse because you knew he was too. You had expected him to come back, be it only to pick some of his stuff up, or to tell you that it was over, but he didn’t. One day you came home from work and most of his clothes and all of his instruments were gone. No note, no letter, no message, nothing.

It was painful to even walk by the apartment building, because too many memories were stirred up, memories of the two of you climbing out of a taxi, late at night, after a date at the cinema, your lips meeting the moment you were standing, memories of quickly shared kisses when one of you left the house, memories of ‘good bye’s and ‘I love you’s.

It had been one month since the fight, one moth since what you assumed had been a break up. And you would see him tonight.

You took a deep breath and stared into your reflection in the mirror. The button-up shirt nicely hugged your waist and the trousers perfectly matched your shoes. You were ready to go.

~*~

A big crowd had already gathered at the hall, where the party was taking place. You took a glass of the Champagne that got offered to you by a cute waitress, and strode into the room, pretending to be more self-confident than you really were. Your eyes searched the people for your best friend, wanting to say hello, but instead they found a pair of big, brown ones. Ray’s eyes widened a little when he saw you, but you quickly turned away. You would do anything in your power to avoid interaction with him. Yes, it bugged you not knowing where you were standing, were you on a break, were you broken up? But you knew you would probably break into tears the moment he tried to talk to you, so you quickly walked into the other direction, hoping to find someone to involve into any kind of conversation.

You got lucky only a few steps later when you recognized a young man who you knew was a photographer you had met a few times before. He was standing on his own and seemed just as lost in the crowd as you were, so you walked over and started to chat with him. It was mainly small talk, he told you about some new camera he wanted to invest in, you told him about the store you were working at.

You thought it was a nice conversation, both of you sharing polite laughs and slowly the initial stiffness melted away, when another man called him over.

Once more you made your way through the people, trying to avoid bumping into Ray, while trying to find someone else you knew. Unluckily Ray seemed to have spotted you wandering around aimlessly, because all of a sudden he was walking straight towards you. You quickly made a beeline towards the buffet, where you lost him between the many people. Just when you thought you had gotten rid of him, he pushed past a talking elderly couple, determined to reach you this time. As if some god had answered your quiet prayers, suddenly a woman in her early forties stepped in front of you, recognizing you from another event. She quickly remembered you worked in a music store and immediately started suggesting additions to the shop’s rang. You pretended to be incredibly interested in what she had to say, avoiding mentioning that you had absolutely no influence on what the store sold. But if Ray saw that you were talking to someone, he might leave you alone.

Or so you thought.

“(Y/n), can we talk?”

The familiar voice sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps raised on your arm where Ray’s shirt brushed against yours as he stepped next to you, far to close than socially acceptable.

“Excuse me, I’m having a conversation,” you told him, not looking up at him, but your heart was beating a hundred miles an hour and you felt your whole body tense up.

“But we really should talk,” he insisted, placing a hand on your upper arm.

You shook him off harshly, still not looking up.

“You are behaving pretty rude, please let’s talk later,” you insisted.

His hand slowly let go of your and you felt him step away.

“Excuse me,” he said, sounding choked up, but you did not turn around to see his face, instead you continued your conversation with the woman, who curiously eyed Ray, who now disappeared in the crowd.

The whole evening passed without any further incidents, with Ray nowhere in sight. Yet you were still tense, ready to bolt at the sight of him. It was pretty late when you left the building, and turned to walk down the street towards your car.

And there he was. Standing under a street lantern, his curly hair casting a soft shadow on his tired features. He looked old, you suddenly realized, as if a decade had passed for him in the last month. He seemed drained of life, bags under his eyes, his shoulders hanging low, his eyes colorless.

Once you had locked eyes you could not look away. You had missed him so much, so much. How had you managed to breath without him in your life? But he had left, he had left and not come back. He had hurt you, and you did not want to be hurt again, you would not let him hurt you again. But he could hurt you at any moment. If you would not love him anymore, you would be indifferent towards him, but you still loved him so much.

“(Y/n),” his voice sounded broken as your name escaped his lips in a desperate plea.

He took a step towards you, hopefully reaching his hand out a little, but you backed away. What did he want? How could he just have left, without making anything clear to you? You were not sure what to feel. Relief, because he wanted to talk to you? Anger, because he had left without a word?

“What do you want,” you asked, voice cold, but shaking slightly.

“I…” Ray stopped not sure how to phrase his thoughts, his feelings. He wanted to reach out to you, tell you how sorry he was, tell you how meaningless his life seemed without you in it, ask you to take him back, plead for it if necessary, kiss you, hold you. “I wanted to apologize. I should have never walked out, I should have stayed and searched for a solution, but… I was scared so I ran.”

His confession broke your heart a little. You remembered his expression from that evening. The moment he looked over to the door, his face had displayed something you had been unable to identify, but now you knew it had been fear.

“Scared of what,” you demanded to know, sounding a lot more confident than you really were.

“Scared that this was what you wanted, that you wanted me gone,” he admitted.

His words ripped your heart in two. Your hearing got all fuzzy and your head suddenly felt like it was full of cotton wool. He had thought you wanted him gone?

“Is that why you didn’t come back,” you asked quietly, trying to hold back tears.

What had you done to make him think that you wanted to get rid of him? You loved him, you loved him so much and every breath without him had been torture. How could he think you wanted him gone?

Ray nodded quietly.

“I… I know that I’m not the most patient person, not the kindest, not the best looking. I thought you had enough, that you had finally realized that you deserved better. So when we suddenly started to fight, I knew that this was the opportunity to set you free, to remove myself, to give you the chance to live the life that you a destined to, not to rot together with me.”

He made a short break, blinking a few times. You stood frozen, not believing the words that were leaving his mouth. Why had he never told you? Why had he thought so little of himself, how could he think he was not worthy of you?

“But the truth is,” he continued, “I can’t live without you. I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard, to let you go. But every breath feels like drowning and every second feels like burning alive when you’re not around. I don’t know what to say or do, because I can understand if you never want to see me again, but if you… if you missed me just once, could you… I mean… could you imagine giving me a second chance?”

His eyes bored into yours, while you felt tears cloud your vison.

“Why didn’t you say anything,” you asked. “Why didn’t you tell me what you thought?”

“I knew you would tell me that none of this is true, but I know it is,” he confessed. “But I don’t care anymore, all I want is to be with you, and I promise I can make you happy, I can become the man you dese-“

“You already are the man I deserve, you are so much more than that,” you interrupted him.

Carefully you took a few steps towards him.

“You are the most patient, the kindest, the best looking and hottest person I could ever imagine and I love you so much and you can’t imagine how much I missed you. No matter what you say or think, you are in all my thoughts all the time and I missed you more than you can imagine, hell more than I could imagine. And I love you so much, it tears me apart when I don’t know if you feel the same.”

Your last words were choked up, and you swallowed hard. You were now standing in front of Ray, so close that your chests were almost touching.

Slowly you lifted up your hand and cupped his cheek, relishing the warmth that was seeping into your palm. Ray’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. When he opened them again, they seemed to have gained some of their beautiful brown color back. A soft smile tucked at his lips before he leant down and connected them to yours in a careful kiss, as if scared you would pull away. Instead you pulled him in closer, kissed him harder. His breath fanned over your face and his lips moved perfectly against yours. It felt like breathing for the first time and you pressed yourself closer against him when you felt him place a hand on your hip.

You broke the kiss first, gasping for air, your lips swollen and red from the passionate kiss. Ray’s cheeks were blushed and his curls were messed up where your hand had tangled in them.

“Come home with me,” you whispered, almost whimpered, your forehead pressed against his, your arms wrapped around his torso.

“Okay,” he answered quietly.

You nodded and reluctantly pulled away.

“Never leave me again,” you told him, your eyes burning once again.

“I won’t, I promise,” he answered, his face serious, but shining with a new found energy.

“Good, because I won’t let you,” you replied with a little smile.

“Thank you,” Ray laughed quietly.

He reached out for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Together you walked towards your car, your head resting against his shoulder. You would never let him leave like that again.

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

He Doesn't Really Do Feelings. (Mikey Way x Reader)

Shrugging on your jacket, you grabbed your Algebra book and closed your locker door.

Looking up to your right, you were met by the smiling face of Frank Iero. Frank was in your Spanish class, so the two of you weren't strangers, but you weren't exactly friends either, so him waiting for you at your locker was a little bit strange.

"So you're into the little Way, hm?" he giggled, wiggling his eyebrows.

You must've looked completely horrified because Frank burst out laughing. His laughing stopped immediately when you grabbed him by his leather jacket and dragged him into the nearest classroom, though.

"You're really strong for a tiny person, you know that?" Frank pouted.

"How did you know that?!"

"Look- between me and you - just because it looks like I'm sleeping in class, doesn't mean I am."

"But- you... you... what?"

"No offense," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "but that Chelsey friend of yours really does not know how to use her inside voice," he said sheepishly.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," you mumbled, starting to pace up and down the empty classroom before stopping in front of Frank, an anxious expression on your face. "You didn't tell him, did you?" you questioned while toying nervously with the hem of your t-shirt.

"Relax, Mikey is as oblivious as ever."

"And you're not planning on telling him either, right?"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," Frank reassured.

"Thank you, Frank," you sighed in relief.

Frank leaned back against one of the wooden desks, eyes following your pacing frame as he studied your still-anxious body language and concerned facial expression.

"You really like him, don't you?"

You stopped pacing and glanced at Frank, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. Chelsey was the only person who had known about your feelings for Mikey for the past couple of years and now suddenly that wasn't the case anymore. Even though Frank assured you that he wouldn't say anything about it to Mikey, having someone who you weren't extremely close with know what was probably your biggest secret was exponentially frightening. Especially when that someone happened to be one of Mikey's best friends.

Managing to choke out a 'yeah', you finally willed yourself to meet Frank's eyes.

"I can help you, you know. I won't tell Mikey, cause I know that's the last thing you want, but there's other things I can do."

"Like?"

"Well, it'd really help if we became actual friends first," he grinned.

"Okay. We're friends now, then."

"Great! So, I'll meet you by our table at lunch!"

"Wait, our table? Wha-"

"BYE, BEST FRIEND!" Frank yelled to you over his shoulder as he swiftly slipped out of the classroom. 

~

Cautiously walking into the cafeteria, your eyes scanned the room in search of a leather jacket. You couldn't see Frank anywhere, but you did find 'our table'. Tucked away in the far left corner was a table occupied by three guys wearing all black and chatting quietly to each other. One of them, of course, was Mikey. Lounging casually in a way that made the cafeteria seats come across as comfortable, he looked as gorgeous as ever. Of course, he didn't find himself attractive at all and neither did most of the girls in your year, but that didn't matter because you'd kill to be able to plant kisses along that jawline.

"Ya know, for someone who's scared of Mikey finding out about her feelings for him, you're not doing a very good job at being subtle about it."

The unexpected sound of Frank's voice behind you caused you to jump a little, making the green-eyed boy giggle.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," you breathed, hand over your heart.

"Don't get so lost in staring at people in front of the entire school, then," came Frank's cheeky reply.

"Fair enough."

Wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, Frank began dragging you towards his friends.

"Frank, hold on, I changed my mind.  I really don't think this is a good ide-"

But it was no use. Frank moved unbelievably fast, and before you knew it, you were standing in front of three wide-eyed teenage boys.

"Hey, guys. This is my friend, (Y/N). She's gonna be spending some time with us. That cool?"

There was no response from the males at first, which made you question whether this was really happening or if it was just some insane dream. Right before you could run away in embarrassment, one of the boys spoke.

"Of course it's okay! You're fucking gorgeous!"

You were a bit taken aback at his words, so you just stood there with your mouth open, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Jason, watch your language! And that's no way to talk to a lady," was the reply of the brunette guy sitting next to who you now knew as Jason. "Please excuse my friend, I'm sure he meant it as a compliment, it's just sometimes he has trouble expressing his thoughts in a non-douchey way," he continued, eliciting a 'I can hear you, asshole' from Jason.

"I'm Sam, by the way," he offered you his hand and a heartfelt smile, which you gladly returned.

"(Y/N)," you said while shaking his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Welcome to our table."

~

Frank had introduced you to his friends in the cafeteria two months ago and since then, you'd gained three new friends in the guys. Frank's plan to get you and Mikey together was coming along swimmingly, except for one tiny flaw...

Mikey wasn't interested in you at all.

As a friend, maybe. Romantically, not a chance in hell.

No matter how hard you tried to spend time alone with him, and no matter how many hints you dropped, Mikey still treated you as no more than a friend. Sometimes even no more than an acquaintance, which left you second-guessing whether he even liked you as a person, let alone as a potential girlfriend.

The was one good thing to gain from all of this, though - you and Frank had become exceptionally close and you now considered him one of your closest friends. He introduced you to his band, My Chemical Romance, which was comprised of him, Mikey, Mikey's older brother Gerard, and their friend, Ray Toro. Gerard and Ray were great people and you became comfortable with them quite quickly. You'd watch them rehearse every week and soon enough you became the unofficial "fifth member of the band".

Yet Mikey still didn't give you the attention you were hoping for, if any at all.

"I'm telling you, Frankie. He hates me," you bit your lip and threw your hands up in frustration.

"He doesn't hate you, babe. Maybe he just doesn't know what to say to you. I mean, it's Mikey. He doesn't really do feelings," Frank replied while disconnecting his guitar from the amp.

It'd been an incredible practice, and you had been on your feet clapping and cheering at the top of your lungs while congratulating the boys. They all gave you shy smiles and thanked you, except for Mikey, who didn't even look at you; prompting the current conversation you were having with Frank.

"I just really wanted him to like me. Even just as a friend. But it seems like that's never gonna happen so..." you trailed off.

"Hey," Frank spoke softly, striding over to you and pulling you against his chest in a tight hug, placing a kiss to your forehead. "It'll be okay, babe. He'll come around."

The two of you stayed like that for a little while, before someone cleared their throat in the doorway, causing you to separate.

It was Mikey, and he looked pissed.

"(Y/N), can I talk to you, please? Alone?" he asked impatiently.

"Um, yeah, sure," you said.

Shooting Frank a confused look - to which he replied with a thumbs up and a 'good luck' - you followed Mikey out of the garage and into his bedroom.

His room was suited perfectly to his personality. It hand band posters up on one wall, and drafts of song lyrics and music sheets hung on the wall above a cluttered desk on the opposite end of the room. It was cozy and comforting, but you couldn't shake the feeling of dread in your stomach. 

Expecting him to yell at you about how much he hated you, you reluctantly broke the awkward silence that hung over the room like a heavy cloud.

"So, you wanted to talk to me about someth-"

"What's going on between you and Frank?" he interrupted you.

His words stunned you beyond belief.

"Excuse me?"

"You and Frank. What's going on between the two of you. Are you together?"

"Me- me and Frank? Together?"

"You heard me."

"No! God, no! Why- why would you even think that?!"

Mikey scoffed. "Why wouldn't I think that? You two are practically inseparable. All the hugging and kissing and 'babes'. It's kinda hard not to notice!"

Mikey's voice was laced with anger and frustration and if you weren't mistaken, jealously...?

"Mikey, I don't understand why y-"

"Just answer the fucking question, (Y/N)!"

After the way he had been treating you since the moment you had met him, he had no right to speak to you that way. And there was no way you were going to take it.

"How dare you? How dare you, Mikey?! You've been treating me like I don't exist since the beginning, and now you suddenly care about who I'm dating?! What the fuck, Mikey? Why? Why do you care?!"

"Why do I care? Why do I...," he stopped abruptly and let out an almost animalistic groan before rushing towards you.

He grabbed you roughly and you froze in shock, half-expecting him to hurt you, but he did the last thing you would've thought him to do.

He kissed you.

He kissed you deep and with infinite passion like your lips were air and he was drowning.

When you pulled apart, you were both gasping for breath.

"That's why." Mikey said, exasperated.

"No."

“No?" he asked, puzzled.

“Frank and I. There's nothing between us. I feel nothing for him. I have feelings for you. Only you, Mikey. I have for the longest time," you sighed as you closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of being so close to him.

The smile that he wore on his face was enough to make your knees weak.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N). For everything. I was a complete dick to you and I know that nothing I say can make up for it. But is there any chance you'd let me try?" he cupped your face, his eyes pleading with you.

"If it means that I can do this anytime I want," standing on your tippy-toes, you kissed his jawline, "then yes, little Way."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[rpf-bat]

We Like To Play

Pairing: Ray Toro x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Request fic for @chloethebinch. “Can you do a Ray X Reader imagine where he takes his girlfriend, the reader, to meet the band for the first time and they love her?”

"They're going to love you," Ray assured you as he pulled his guitar case from the trunk of the car.

"I really hope so," you said nervously.

'They', of course, referred to the other four members of My Chemical Romance, your boyfriend's band. You loved music, so you'd been so impressed when Ray told you he was a guitarist in a musical group. He'd given you a copy of their new album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love.

"We recorded it in our friend's basement," Ray had said shyly, scratching at the back of his fluff-covered head. "It's not the most cohesive album in the world, and Gerard recorded half his vocals with a toothache, but, um, I hope you like it."

You'd loved it, especially the guitar parts that Ray composed. He was so talented.

"It's really important to me to get to know the guys," you told your boyfriend seriously. "After all, who knows? Maybe in a year or two, you'll be touring the country with them."

"You really think we're going to get that big?" Ray asked.

"Don't you?" you smiled. You thought the guitarist really needed to have more confidence.

"I mean, I hope so," Ray admitted. "But, you never know. I mean, Frank's dad was a musician his whole life, but he never got known outside of Jersey."

"Frank's the other guitarist, right?" you recalled.

"Yeah, I think you're going to like him," Ray smiled. "Practice is about to start, so he should be inside already."

"Let's go, then," you smiled, lacing the fingers of Ray's free hand with your own.

"Toro finally brought his girl!" said an excited voice as soon as you walked into the studio. The speaker had dreaded hair and piercings. You recognized him from photographs as Frank.

"So, she's real, then?" teased the drummer.

"Doesn't look like a blow-up doll," said a man with glasses, giving you a faux scrutinizing look.

"Shut up, Mikey," Ray blushed.

"Hey, I like your Batman shirt," called a black-haired man in a hoodie.

"Thanks," you grinned.

"That's Gerard," Ray introduced. "He's really into comic books."

"Nice to meet you, Gerard," you greeted, offering a hand, which he came over and shook. "I'm Y/N."

"Hi, Y/N," Gerard smiled.

"I'm Frank," Frank said, next in line for a handshake.

"I'm Mikey."

"I'm Otter!"

"It's so good to finally meet all of you!" you said. "Ray talks about you all the time."

"He talks about you to us, too," Mikey confessed. "'Y/N is so pretty', 'I can't get over how cute Y/N is'...."

"Did you really say that, Ray?" you blushed.

"It's not my fault you keep doing cute things," Ray protested.

"So, Y/N, you listened to our record, right?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, I thought it was really good," you nodded.

"Your boyfriend's a musical genius," Frank complimented. "Totally his fault."

"We've got a show tonight, at Maxwell's," Gerard reminded. "Will you come, Y/N?"

"We'll comp your tickets," Mikey offered.

"Thanks," you said gratefully. "I'd love to see you guys perform."

"Well, you can see us practice, first," Frank pointed out. "Ray, plug your guitar into the amp."

"I'm nervous," Ray hesitated.

"Dude, has Y/N never seen you play live before?" Gerard gathered.

"And you've been together how long?!" Mikey added, shocked.

"T-two months," Ray mumbled.

"Dude, it's time," Frank encouraged. "Come on, let's start with 'Honey', alright?"

"Ok," Ray surrendered. He plugged in his instrument and began the opening notes of 'Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Both Of Us'.  

Watching his fingers dance over the strings fascinated you, and by the time Frank joined in with his rhythm, you were bobbing your head to the music.

"Hey, Toro, she seems really into it," Gerard noticed.

"Hush and sing the verse," Ray said, flustered.

"Sorry," Gerard chuckled, and switched to his distinctive singing voice. "The amount of pills I'm taking....."

As the song went on, Ray looked up at you shyly as he played. You smiled at him reassuringly. It warmed your heart when he smiled back.

You listened to the band practice for a few more hours. Ray's guitar sounded even better in person than it did on CD. And there was some kind of energy the guys had that no recording could capture, even though they were only playing to an audience of one.

"Hey, it's almost six," the drummer pointed out, checking his watch.

"Yeah, if we want to start the show on time, we better start heading over to Maxwell's," Mikey nodded.

"Gerard and I can start loading the van," Ray nodded, unplugging his guitar and putting it back in its case.

"I'll help," you offered. But, Mikey stopped you on your way out the door.

"Something wrong?" you asked, wanting to follow your boyfriend, who had already left the room.

"Not at all," the bassist said quietly. "I just....I've known Ray longer than any of the other guys. And I've never seen him look as happy as he did when he walked in here with you."

You were touched by Mikey's comment. "Thank you," you said gratefully. "To be honest, I was really worried about whether you guys would like me or not."

"We love you," Mikey assured you. "And, more importantly, Ray loves you. It's obvious from the way he looks at you."

"Thanks, Mikey," you smiled. You could see why he was one of Ray's best friends.

"Now, let's get going," he said, grabbing the case that held his bass guitar. "It's time for your boy and I to melt some faces."

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Secret - Ray Toro x Reader

Summary: You’re joining your brothers Gerard and Mikey on touring with MCR. If only it weren’t for your crush on a certain guitarist. (Wow, worst summary I’ve ever written)

Warnings: none

Word count: 1 526

To say every day of tour was torture was an understatement. You loved being on tour with your two older brothers Gerard and Mikey, of course you did. You helped with the stage and the merchandise and you helped get some proper food on the table, apart from the everyday pizza or burger and you were sure you had never been happier before. But then there was this problem with your crush. Of course you could not fall in love with one of the nice guys from your neighborhood. No, you were deeply and madly and undeniably in love with one of your brothers’ closest friends and the band’s lead guitarist, Ray.

You had known Ray long before this tour and you had always admired him. He was always caring and gentle, funny and considering and not to mention absolutely handsome and a god at playing his instrument. But since the guys had started recording the latest album and then prepared the tour, your admiration for Ray had grown stronger and stronger.

By now you honestly did not know how to handle your feelings anymore.

You hated all these girls at every concert who tried to get his attention. And because he was as nice as he was, they got his attention. Certainly not always to the extent they hoped for, but he always took the time to take photos, sign autographs or simply chat with his fans. You had nothing against those fans but there was always a fraction who screamed obscenities at him, wanting him to sleep with them and stuff. Some girls even tried (and sometimes succeeded) to kiss him. You hated those people. Not only because they made feel Ray uncomfortable but also because he was not theirs to kiss. Nor was he yours, as you knew well enough.

It was hard for you to stay around him and not making it terribly obvious that you were in love with him. No matter what was going on in a room, as soon as he was there your eyes found and rested on him. You tended to stand mostly beside Ray, you smiled more at him than the others and you blushed more easily around him. None of this would have been too bad, had it not been for the fact that when you first had met the band, your brothers had announced that they did not want you to date any of the other band members. Back then you had nodded and smiled but now it was a serious problem. What if any of the two, or even Frank, found out that you were in love with Ray? They would surely be mad at you and sent you home, maybe they would even be mad at Ray. And if Ray happened (which you thought impossible) to return your feelings, both of you would surely be kicked out of the band. Not to mention the family drama afterwards.

So your new, and so far successful, strategy was to avoid Ray. You casually left the room every time he entered, you did not look at him, you especially did not look him in the eyes (because his eyes were just too god damn beautiful) and you tried to talk to him as little as possible. Of course he still slept in the bunk above you and every night you wondered what it would be like to lay next to him but you tried to forbid every thought at him. It did not work, but you tried. And for some time your feelings actually seemed to fade away, until that one day.

It was early afternoon and the band was just doing sound check. You enjoyed the time alone in the tour bus and had settled down on the small sofa, reading one of the books you had borrowed from Gerard. You laughed about one of the many, bad puns when suddenly the door flung open and Ray climbed into the bus. You grew tense immediately. How could you get away from him now? Quickly you stood up and shot him a fake smile while you felt your heart pounding faster.

“I’m gonna go check on the guys, see whether they need help with something,” you explained. Nice excuse, you thought to yourself, sounds totally believable. Yay, Sarcasm.

You had just reached the open door, when it was slammed in your face.

“They don’t need help,” said Ray but he sounded almost… angry? “We must talk.”

This was no question, it was a statement and it sounded beyond pissed. And that scared the living shit out of you. You had never seen Ray upset and certainly not as angry as he sounded now.

“Sit down,” he put a hand on your shoulder, which sent a shudder through your body, and guided you back over to the small sofa. But you refused to sit down.

“I’d prefer to stand,” you admitted quietly, not looking at him.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before speaking. “You’re avoiding me.” Again not a question. He forced his voice to be quiet even though he was mad and that made his voice shake angrily.

I’d really like to run away now, you thought before concentrating on answering him.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! You’re not even looking at me right now!” Ray’s voice got louder and louder until he was almost shouting. Secretly you preferred being shouted at, but you still wanted to run. Ray was angry, everyone gets angry. But Ray was angry at you and you did not know which was worse, the feeling of being broken hearted at that or the fear of him. You felt a burning in the back of your throat and your eyes began to sting, sure signs that you would start crying any minute. But Ray did not seem to notice. He just kept talking, voice still risen. “You are avoiding me, you don’t talk to me, you don’t even look at me! You just leave me wondering what I have done wrong! What have I ever done to you that you ignore me and push me away and hurt me like that! (Y/n), what have I done?” Suddenly his hands were at both sides of your chin, cupping your face while tears rolled down your cheeks. “(Y/n), what?” His voice had gotten all quiet, full of hurt and pain and so gentle.

Finally you could not take it anymore. More tears ran down your face and into Ray’s calloused, yet soft and warm hands, as you began talking. Your voice was shaking but you kept talking anyway, finally revealing all your feeling. “I’m in love with you, that’s why!” You wanted to shout but it came out more as a sniff. “I’ve been in love with you for months now and if anyone finds out, all this is over. Mikey and Gerard are gonna kill me, or you, or both of us! And I just can’t take it anymore, Ray, I just can’t! It’s all bottled up inside me and I feel like I’m going to burst because I don’t know how to handle any of this and-“

You wanted to continue your rant; it felt weirdly good to finally get all those feeling out, but instead Ray’s soft lips met yours. His hands were still resting on both sides of your face, his thumbs drawing small circles on your cheeks, rubbing away the tears.  For a moment you were frozen but then you melted into the comforting warmth of Ray’s kiss. Until a thought pushed itself into your mind. What if he only kissed you because he pitied you? Slowly you placed your hands on his chest, grabbing his shirt and pushed him away, carefully but firmly. You really did not want the kiss to end but you did not want to be kissed out of pity either. The expression on Ray’s face was beyond confusion.

“If you only kissed me because you pity me-“ you started but were once again interrupted.

“I kissed you because I love you, and your brothers can kill me for that, I don’t care. So shut up and let me kiss you again.” His eyes stared down into yours pleadingly and finally you smiled, pulling him back to you at the shirt that your fingers were still closed around. He closed the last inches between you and again his soft lips met yours. But this time the kiss was more passionate and you lost yourself in the perfect harmony that your lips moved together. You felt Ray smile into the kiss and you could not help but do so too, when suddenly the door flew open and Frank came bouncing into the bus.

Ray and you jumped away from each other as quickly as possible but Frank didn’t seem to care. He just turned around in the door and shouted “They’re just kissing, you can come inside!” He pushed past Ray and you and flopped down on the sofa, smirking up at the two of you.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Mikey followed though the door, Gerard close behind him. “Was about time!”

[rpf-bat]

Truth Is Now Acceptable

Pairing: none

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Request fic for @bipolardonnie. “could i request a oneshot with an ftm reader who is drummer of mcr? where he comes out to the whole band and they all receive it well and cuddles ensue? xx”

“You cut your hair,” Ray noticed as he brushed past you on the tour bus, trying to reach the cabinet where the band kept their food,  so he could have breakfast before you arrived at the next venue.

“…..Yeah,” you shrugged vaguely.

“Well, I like it,” Ray smiled. “I think the pixie cut thing suits you a lot more than long hair, anyway.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back, unsure whether to say more. The haircut was the first step in the beginning of something you’d wanted, but been terrified, to do for a long time now. If your friend and bandmate was accepting of this first change, that was a good sign….right?

Better be brave, you decided, and move on to phase two.

“Is Frank awake yet?” you asked curiously.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Frank mumbled sleepily as he got out of his bunk. “Shit, where are we playing today?”

“Chicago, I think?” you shrugged. You’d had a lot more on your mind last night than the upcoming concert.

Maybe I should have rehearsed my drumming more, you thought with a hint of self-doubt. Is it selfish of me to do this now, when it could distract from my music career? If what I’m about to do causes drama within the band, how are we going to perform together?

“Anyway, Y/N, why were you looking for me?” Frank wondered.

“Oh…..um…..” Maybe I should just forget about it, you thought with a frown. You could wear the skirt that’s been your ‘uniform’ for this whole tour one more night. You were used to living a lie.

No, you thought. The dysphoria it gives me is too damn much. You told yourself, firmly, to man up.

“I was wondering if I could borrow one of your shirts,” you confessed, before you lost your nerve.

“Are all your shirts in the wash, or something?” Frank asked, raising a confused eyebrow.

“Well, you’re the smallest, so you’re about my size, and…..”

“You don’t have to borrow Frank’s stuff,” Mikey interrupted, setting down the bass he’d been tuning. “We can tell the driver to make a pit stop at a laundromat if you need to wash some clothes. Or even the mall, if you want some new dresses or something…..”

“I don’t want dresses!” you snapped. “You don’t get it!”

“What’s the matter, girl?” Gerard asked, looking up from the comic book he’d been reading in his bunk.

“Don’t call me ‘girl’,” you pleaded. Fuck, this was all going wrong.

“Why not?” Gerard asked, confused.

“Because…….” Your heart pounded like a kick drum in your chest. Did you dare say it? You’d wanted to tell them, for so long. They were your four closest friends. You guys had always shared everything with each other, especially in those early days, when the five of you were crammed into a tiny van, like sardines, unsure if you were ever really going to be able to leave Jersey, or go pro.

And now you were pros. You’d fought through so much as a band to get here, from haters who didn’t understand your music, to addiction and mental illness, to deaths (you still remembered Mikey crying on your shoulder at his grandma’s funeral), to being blamed for deaths (fuck the Daily Mail)…..

The five of you had stuck together through far bigger things than this, you realized. And you hated keeping such a big secret from them for so long. You had to believe that your friends would accept you. And so, taking a deep breath, you summoned your nerve.

“Because I’m not a girl,” you said quietly.

“You’re……not?” Ray blinked, simply confused at first.

“Does that mean…..you’re a boy?” Gerard realized.

“Yes,” you confessed, relieved to finally be able to say it, after all this time. “I’ve known for a long time. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I think I started to realize it around the time we started touring in support of Bullets, and…..”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us, man?” Frank gasped, pulling you into a hug. “Did you think we wouldn’t want to be in this band with you anymore?”

“I….I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted. “But…..yeah, I’m a man on the inside. And….I want my outside to match my inside.”

“Well, don’t borrow Frank’s clothes,” Ray chuckled, putting another arm around you. “We can get you some masculine stuff to wear at the mall today, that doesn’t smell like unwashed guitarist butt.”

“You smell like unwashed guitarist butt, too, Toro!” Frank protested, and everyone laughed.

Your bandmates were taking this so…..easily. You almost couldn’t believe it.

“Are you sure me being a man doesn’t…..change the way you feel about me at all?” you asked uncertainly.

“Nah, it just means I get a new brother,” Mikey grinned, jumping onto the hug pile.

“And as the biggest brother,” Gerard smiled, wrapping arms around the lot of you, “It’s my job to punch out anybody who tries to mess with you.”

“If anyone on this tour gives you shit for being transgender, just tell me,” Frank agreed. “I’ll set ‘em straight.”

“You have all of our support,” Ray promised seriously.

“Thank you, you guys,” you said, nearly moved to tears.

“Hey, if you’re gonna be a man now, no crying,” Mikey teased, playfully punching you in the arm.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping your tears on the back of your hand. “I just love you guys a lot. It means so much to me that I can be out to you now, and you accept me.”

“Of course we accept you,” Frank assured you. “Whether you’re a boy, or a girl, or neither, you play drums like a beast, and that’s all that matters.”

“Besides, this band was always a little genderfucked, anyway,” Gerard chuckled. “I mean, I’m a man who wears makeup every night, for Pete’s sake.”

“And made out with a dude with a beard,” you reminded, sticking out your tongue.

“Well, if you’re well enough to tease Gerard, I guess you’re feeling better,” Ray said, looking satisfied.

“I am,” you nodded, so relieved to finally be able to be yourself.

“If you’re no longer identifying as female, then what name should we call you?” Mikey asked sensitively.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I’m still deciding.”

“Well, whatever you decide, just let us know,” Frank replied. “For now, we’ll just do our best to remember to call you ‘he’ or ‘him’ when we talk about you.”

“That would be great,” you nodded.

“Alright, then, boys,” Gerard grinned, “who’s ready to put on our first show as a five-man band?”