ilyamustdie

[ilyamustdie]

so many oneshot/new fanfic ideas but i have to remember i literally have a series going on rn. theyre being jotted down in the notes app each time i think of something else to write

[ilyamustdie]

the amount of mistakes i make after i post a fanfic is crazy. if u guys are ever early to a post just know im probably editing it as you read.

[ilyamustdie]

possible afab!reader x switch!frank but it’s their first time trying it with frank as a sub! he’s super excited cause he hasn’t been a sub for a minute as he’s normally on top?

if you aren’t comfortable it’s totally okay

Touch me

Pairing:Switch!Frank Iero x AFAB! Reader

tags: dom frank turned sub, SMUT, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, handjob, penetration, begging, overstimulation

word count: 3252

A/N: writing this was a lot of fun omggg, ive been wanting to write frank again and this was perfect to do. I HOPE YOU ENJOYYY!! i love your mind for thinkinf of this. beautiful.

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You lie in your shared bed with Frank, you two have recently moved in with each other after dating for a while. The sheets were warm and familiar, but it was still new to you in some ways. Adjusting to routines and little quirks, you were both learning about each other were still present, and that was the fun of it all. It was comforting knowing that this space was a place to make home, together. And you two have been doing great at it. 

Tonight, though… Tonight felt different, though not necessarily in a bad way. As you were curled up together, his head tucked against your shoulder, tracing lazy patterns on your thighs, unusually quiet. He’d also been quite fidgety, sometimes picking at his fingers, drumming his fingers on your legs, now drawing on them; it was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get it out. 

“Okay, just say it,” you teased, brushing his hair back from his forehead affectionately, “what’s bothering you?” You said a little softer this time, just in case it was something serious.  

Frank huffed, rolling away from you, now staring up at the ceiling, blush creeping up to his ears. “It’s just… been a while since I, y’know,” he paused, his teeth playing with his lip ring before meeting your gaze. “Since I let someone take control… like, God, I love being on top of you and pinning you down, don’t ever think I’d want to stop,” he rushed out, smirking himself to a bit, “But it’s just that I want you to- fuck- this sounds dumb-“

“Tell me, Frankie, this doesn’t sound dumb at all,” you gently cut him off, extending your arm onto his shoulder as you both lay together, gazes meeting. 

His eyes softened as you touched him gently. You have always been so caring towards him; he couldn’t believe someone like you was with him. His gaze went to the cieling before going back to you, a nervous smirk growing as he began to talk sheepishly, “I haven’t subbed in a while and I miss it. Miss… not being in control all the time, and if it’s anyone to control me—“ his voice slightly heightened in pitch, “— I want it to be you.”

The energy of the room changed; it felt as though a switch had turned on and everything was amplified. You leaned closer to him, your hand reached to cup his jaw. He leaned into the touch, his doe eyes looking up at you as he slightly nudged your hand with his cheek. 

“Okay, Frankie,” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek, down to his lip, “then tonight, you’ll listen to me and do what I tell you to do, okay?”

His breath hitched, and you caught that spark in his eye as he nodded eagerly, “Yes ma’am.”

You giggled, not used to being called that, “Think you can do that for me? Think you can be a good boy?”

“I can, I’ll be good for you, I promise..” he whispered, his eyes wide, like he was finally getting what he had wanted for a while. 

You smirked to yourself. You didn’t have much experience topping someone, especially with Frank, as this is your first time doing this with him. Throughout your guys’ relationship, Frank had always been the one dominating you, which wasn’t bad at all. You loved it, but you are always willing to try new things, especially since he wanted it to be you. 

You dragged your nails down to his clothed chest, watching the way he shivered a bit, shifting under your touch. “Wow, you’re so eager already,” you murmured into his ear, lips lightly brushing. 

Frank bit down on his lip ring, “can’t help it…” he murmured roughly as you slowly crawled on top of him, now hovering over. His hips twitched slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. A smile crept up to your face. He was always so cute. 

“So needy,“ you teased, your finger now trailing down to the top of his waistband. You teased at the hem of it, snapping it lightly. His whole body had gone stiff, his breath caught in his throat, waiting for you to continue. He wanted to be a good boy for you; he wanted to follow your every word, so he waited. He didn’t dare move unless you told him to. 

The sight alone made your stomach flutter. Your Frank, who was usually so wild and relentless on top of you, was now below you, his eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to fuck him. You understood now why Frank loved being the one on top for so long.

“Move your arms for me,” you said firmly, causing his eyes to widen a bit. He, too, wasn’t used to seeing this side of you. He of course, immediately obeyed and moved his hands back on the bed, resting against the pillow.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he made a small needy sound that you weren’t sure he meant to let slip.

“You like that, don’t you? Hearing me call you that?” You teased as you began to slip his shirt over his head. His cheeks flushed darker, and he nodded a little too eagerly. “Fuck, yes, I do.” 

You smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, but paused before there could be any contact. “Then earn it.” Frank let out a quiet breath, wanting to kiss you so badly.

Your hand dipped lower, cupping him through his sweatpants. His hips began to move, jerking up against your palm, a groan escaping his lips. You pulled your hand back, and he huffed at the loss of contact. 

“Patience, Frankie,” you cooed, brushing your lips over his jaw. “I’ll decide what you get, but only when I think you’ve earned it.” 

He groaned, head tipping back against the mattress and fists clenching the sheets tightly. God— he loved your teases, but sometimes it was so hard.

“You’re killing me,” he breathed, a strained laugh spilling out with his words. 

You pressed a light kiss to his throat, and then another, and another. You felt his throat bob as the kisses became wetter. “Not killing you, Frankie,” you whispered between kisses, “Just making you beg for it…” 

He shivered as your breath fanned over his exposed collarbones. You left wet kisses, nipping lightly, and placed your hand back over his crotch, not caring to move just yet. His desperate hips began to twitch below you, but he tried to restrain himself. 

“Please,” he finally whispered, the word coming out as if he had been holding it in. 

“Please what, Frankie?”

He groaned, squirming beneath you. “Please, touch me. More. I need it, I need you,” his voice cracked, making your stomach flutter. 

You slid your hands under the waistband of his boxers, your fingers brushing over his heated skin. His breath caught in a sharp gasp as his hips arched, wanting nothing more than to grind on your palm. The reaction was so raw and intimate, like he had been waiting for this for ages…

“God, you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, grasping his member as you began to slowly and deliberately stroke him. “I’ve barely touched you and look at you… already falling apart.”

“I—“ he gasped, “can’t help it,” he stammered, his hands grasping the sheets above his head tighter, as if he was restraining himself from grabbing you. He was so used to handling you however he wanted, but the switch was something he loved. He loved feeling small beneath you, watching you take control of him. His thighs twitched, muscles straining as he continued to force himself to be still.

You leaned down, brushing your lips over his jaw, cheek, and then moving to his ear to whisper, “Don’t you dare move those hands. If you’re really good, you’ll stay just like this while I make you feel good.”

“Yes,” he gasped so excitedly. He loved the way you were stroking him and couldn’t wait for what was next, “I’ll be good, I-I swear,” his voice came out breathy and broken.

With his promise, your grip became firmer, and the speed increased a bit, causing his breath to become ragged. Every little whimper, gasp, curse that he mewed sent a rush of heat through you. Seeing him come undone below you like this was intoxicating.

“You’re doing so good for me, Frankie,” you praised, kissing down the side of his neck. The pace of your hand began to slow down with just enough pressure to keep him trembling, but not nearly enough for him to release. His hips began to buck up, his whines escaping each time he went up. You pulled back, letting your nails graze the area around the base of his hardened cock, teasing the sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head thrown back into the pillow out of frustration, “please, please don’t stop. Don’t tease me like this…”  

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head as if you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, “But, isn’t this what you wanted, Frank? Me taking control? Letting me decide what you need?”  

His chest heaved as he nodded frantically, lip caught between his teeth again. “yes— yes, I want it, fuck yes, just— now, please,” he begged. 

“Then be patient for me,” your hand moved back to a light grasp at the base of his length.

A strangled whimper tore out of him, his fists clutching the sheets again out of frustration. God, he was so desperate. So submissive under you. His cock twitched desperately in your hand, he swallowed hard and his voice shook as he whispered, “I’ll wait, I’ll be good.. Just.. don’t leave me like this.” His pleading eyes met yours, and you melted.

You rewarded him with a kiss to his lips and lingered for a bit, savoring the way you felt him whimper into you as you began to stroke him, this time more deliberately. His whimpers turned to moans, sounding raw and wrecked. 

“That’s it,” you praised, “You’ve been so patient for me, Frankie. So good for me, yeah?” 

Your shift in tone almost made him fall apart. He became breathless as your hand worked him faster, his cheeks flushed as he could feel his release coming. Your hand went faster, and faster, rhythmically working him with everything you had.

And then, 

you stopped. 

Fuck—” he gasped, his hips jerking up into nothing, his entire body shaking with the sudden loss of friction. His fists slammed helplessly into the sheets. “Please, I- I was so close-” 

You kissed his temple gently as you pulled him up to lean against the headboard of the bed and climbed into his lap before he could stay angry, “shh, I know. But I told you, Frankie, I decide what you get.”

His eyes went wide as he realized your intent, instantly thanking whatever God was looking out for him. His breath caught as you pulled his sweatpants all the way off his legs. 

You leaned in, kissing him hard, and you began to grind down slowly through the thin barrier of your shorts.  All he wanted to do was grab your hips and slam into you, but he knew your reward for staying would feel so much better. 

“Is this what you wanted, Frankie? You teased, spelling your name on him with the movements of your grind. 

Frank whimpered out your name, looking into your eyes with desperation as he nodded, brushing the strands of hair that fell into your face so he could see all of you. Your heart swelled at the gesture; he was always so sweet to you.

You decided he deserved his reward and moved your legs to tug down your shorts. He began to grin as you did this, and you giggled, shaking your head a bit. Your panties were quickly tossed to the side, and you began to position yourself, leg on each side of him as you grabbed his member, stroking it slowly. You looked down at him as you gave him a soft smile, and he cupped your cheek. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

“I love y- Ah-“, you began to sink down onto him, inch by inch, causing him to choke on his words, “y-ou too,” he whined out.

His back was pressed against the headboard as his head fell back, causing a slight thud. 

“Oh my- fuck- fuck-“ he moaned high-pitched and needily, so fucking desperate after all your teasing. His chest rose and fell quickly, as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He quickly raised his head to watch you sink onto him fully, his hands instinctively went to your hips, but you caught them, pinning them against the wall above his head. 

“Hands off,” you warned softly, eyes locked on his. “You don’t touch until I say.”

You didn’t dare move now, savoring the way he trembled beneath you, how his hands were balled into fists, his face dusted with pink. 

“Please move,” he begged, his voice almost breaking, “I need it so bad, please just- fuck- fuck me, I’ll do anything.” 

Your smirk grew as you finally began to move, rolling your hips against his. His moans filled the room instantly, finally getting what he wanted. He twitched helplessly beneath you, eyes fluttering shut, then opening them again to watch you slowly ride him.

“Is this what you wanted?” You teased, grinding down on him, “To be used? To sit here and let me do whatever I want?”

Gasping, he whined, “yes, god, yes.. please don’t stop, I’ll do anything.” 

The way his voice came out, weak and fucked, made you clench around him. 

You set your pace, rocking against him with a steady rhythm. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he watched you move on top of him, lust completely filling his eyes. 

“Look at you,” you whispered, rolling harder now, moving your unoccupied hand cupping his cheek lovingly, “Taking me to good, just like this, okay?” You instructed him with praise. You leaned forward to kiss his swollen lips, swallowing his cries as you began to bounce on him faster. The harder you let your hips fall down on him, the deeper he goes, causing his legs to twitch. 

“That’s it,” you peppered kisses over his face as he whined, threading your fingers through his hair, “Who do you belong to?” 

“Y-you— fuck you, Y/N, it’s been you, oh my God I-” his words began to dissolve into moans as you picked up the pace. 

With your hands in his hair, you tugged his head back a bit so you could watch his face as you rode him, “You’re close, aren’t you, hmm?” 

He nodded vigorously. You finally slid your hand down from his wrists, no longer pinning him in place above his head and his fingers twitched.

You leaned down close to his ear, “Touch me.”  

Frank’s eyes widened, and his lips parted like he couldn’t believe you were giving him that freedom. A whimper caught in his throat before his hands flew to your hips, gripping desperately as if you might pull away again to tease. His touch was shaky and everywhere, he moved up to your waist then back down, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted you most.

“That’s it,” you said breathlessly, feeling him deep within you, “I want to feel you.”

He settled with one hand, grabbing your waist as the other went to your chest, fondling your breast under your bra. He squeezed your sensitive skin, leaning his head down as you ripped your shirt off and quickly unclasped your bra. He bit at your sensitive bud and then began to suck as if he needed more of you. He couldn’t get enough. He moved his head between your breasts and pushed your chest together, moaning out. 

“Hold onto me- Fuck, Frankie,” your voice came out cracking and whiny, only spurring him on

He wrapped his arms tight around your waist until there was no room between your bodies. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. The new sensation of his breath fanning over your sensitive skin of your neck caused you to moan loudly. He began to kiss and nip at your neck, worshipping you. 

“You feel so good,” he panted against your throat, his breath hitching every bounce. 

“You’re so— so fucking perfect— God, don’t ever stop. Not now,” he begged.

The way he was moaning, kissing, and begging at your neck made you ride him harder, your hips grinding down against his lap with an urgency that had his back arching against the headboard.

“Please,” he sputtered out, “I’m so fucking close— let me— let me cum,” he let out a sob as you angled your hips to take him deeper. “Oh God— Oh God, Y/N, I can’t--“ he blabbed, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Don’t hold back,” you moaned into his ear, riding him harder as your own breath began to shallow. “Cum for me, Frankie.”

The words undid him completely. His arms tightened around you as he began to desperately buck his hips up into you. A strangled moan came from his chest as he was shaking, and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside, releasing himself. His shameless cries were music to your ears.

Even though Frank stopped rutting his hips up into you because he came, it didn’t mean you had to stop. With a wicked grin, you began to grind as he rode out his high. You watched his every twitch and spasm beneath you. He looked completely overstimulated as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. 

As he came down from his high, you continued. You rocked against him harder now, chasing your own release. You clenched around him as you felt him twitch inside of you.

“F-fuck—baby, wait—” he cried out, voice breaking, his back arched as he tried to take the overstimulation. His hands clawed at your waist, at your back, desperate but not pushing you away. He could never do that. Tears began to prick at the corner of his eyes, “It’s too much—oh my God, I can’t—ohh—”

You grabbed his face, putting your forehead against his, “You can take it, Frankie, you’ll give me this, won’t you?”

Frank couldn’t help the sobs that came from him as he nodded frantically, wanting to make you feel good. Seeing him do whatever you commanded was the last piece to the puzzle. You grinded faster, feeling the tension build up until you felt your climax tear through you. You let your moans spill out as your legs shook, still moving your hips against his cock. 

Frank held you through your high, his body writhing in a mix of pain and pleasure. He whimpered into your shoulder as his tears spilled onto your skin, gasping when you hit a particular spot. Despite all of this, he continued to give himself to you entirely. 

Finally, you stopped and Frank stayed buried in you as you collapsed against his chest, panting heavily. His heart was pounding against you as he wrapped your arms around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” you panted out, chuckling lightly. He grinned and pulled you into a tender kiss. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered.

He melted at your words, nodding as his words came out with devotion, “only you.” 

[ilyamustdie]

frank oneshot that was requested dropping soon!!

[ilyamustdie]

im actually crying. put born to run by bruce springsteen because of frank ieros song choice for that ig post and its perfect.

bullets mikey animation practice

[ilyamustdie]

finished my classes for the day, finally have the time to dedicate to writing mwahaha, this has been the LONGEST first week back to school because this semester im working 25+ hours a week which are usually shifts i have to wake up at 4:45 am for T-T

[ilyamustdie]

okay now that i finished that oneshot, i plan on continuing to draft the ch. 3 of summer in belleville and start working on the requests you guys have sent in! really excited to start on those hehe you guys gave some good ones....... :P

[ilyamustdie]

Polaroid Pictures

Pairing: Stalker!Perv!Gerard Way x AFAB! Reader

tags: (slight?) noncon, smut, degradation, stalking behavior, obsessive behavior, penetration, dirty talk, power play, power roles reversed, possessive behavior, swearing, teasing, overstimulation, fluff, aftercare, reader highkey just as freaky as gee, creampie, sub gee to dom gee

word count: 5248

Summary: Gerard was a boy in your class whom you got paired up with for a project. You agree to work on it with him at his dorm, and you find out Gerard has known more about you than he has been letting on... You decide to make him snap.

A/N: okay guys. this is just straight-up smut with a slight plot. i love perv gerard so much writing this was so fun, i hope u guys love just as much as me. my editing was very minimal so i apologize for any mistakes. ps if anyone cares, its canon y/n takes birth control now ;P

Gerard Way had a weird charm to him… If you could even call it that.

You met him in one of your classes, beginning of the fall semester, when you two were paired together for a book report. He was very nerdy with a slouched posture that obviously lacked confidence. You didn’t even notice him the first few weeks of class until the project came along… He was quiet, avoided eye contact, and was always scribbling these elaborate doodles in his notebook. His dark clothes were always wrinkled, and his greasy hair somehow always seemed a few too many washes overdue... There isn’t a time you can think of where Gerard didn’t have greasy hair. 

Despite all of this, there was something about the way he acted. The way he tripped over his words when he was flustered, or the way you could see his eyes light up when he could talk about anything comic or horror-related. Pathetic, yes, but weirdly endearing. His passion was strong and genuine, a quality that seems rarer every day. You couldn’t help but be curious.

That evening, you found yourself outside his dorm room on a Friday, knocking lightly, nerves starting to buzz. Which was ridiculous. This is Gerard. Why were you nervous now? You have no reason to be.

You stood there for more than a few seconds before knocking again, in case you weren’t loud enough. From inside, you heard a loud thud.

 What was that? 

You leaned in towards the door to listen, eyebrows raised, and heard muttered curses which were followed by frantic footsteps.

The door swung open, and Gerard stood there awkwardly with a lopsided smile. Behind him was the exact kind of space you’d imagine him to live in, a cramped single dorm, walls plastered with comic memorabilia and posters from alternative bands, most noticeably a massive Smashing Pumpkins poster above his bed. Though it was very dirty, you had to appreciate the personality that was shown. 

“Uh- Hi,” he stammered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.  “Sorry, it’s such a mess. I didn’t even realize the time because I got distracted and I… yeah. Here, come in.” He finished his rambling as he shifted on his feet nervously, his cheeks a little flushed as he kept habitually adjusting his hair. His eyes kept darting from you to the floor as if holding your gaze might kill him. 

You gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ve seen worse, don’t worry about it,” you lied. Poor guy.

You took a few steps in, getting a better look at the place. There were sketchbooks and empty cans stacked all over the place, a few DVDs scattered across his desk. He had a few shelves filled with comic issues and action figures, which made you giggle to yourself. All you could imagine is Gerard reading the comics with his action figures in hand and acting out the scenes from the series with them.

“Ah, wait- here,” Gerard blurted, rushing forward. He brushed the DVDs and a few paper piles onto the floor in a frantic attempt to make it look presentable. “You can set your stuff on my desk here,” he stammered. He then motioned toward the low-rise coffee table at the center of the room and laid a pillow down for you to use as a seat. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a cluttered mess on top. He must have had time to organize this part before you came. 

So, you and Gerard sat criss-crossed at the table with your laptops open, notebooks sprawled out with your colorful pens and markers. Gerard had put on a record to prevent the silence, “Louder than Bombs,” by The Smiths, an album you enjoyed and found quite intimate on its own. The soft glow of the corner lamp on his desk, besides the bright computer screens, had filled the room with a strangely intimate glow. Every time you shifted a bit to get more comfortable, your knee brushed his. 

Gerard hunched over his notebook as he continued annotating the assigned book. It was filled with little tabs to mark pages; you smiled when you noticed. He was putting in a significant amount of effort, mostly from outside preparation for this meeting, because he was currently pretty distracted. His knee bounced rhythmically, and he twirled his pen every once in a while; his lip stayed caught between his teeth as he lightly chewed. Every other second, you’d notice his eyes flick toward you, only to dart away when you looked back.

It was… cute? In its own awkward, kinda pathetic way, it was cute. 

When you reached to grab your water, you knocked some pens over, causing them to roll down under the couch. You tsk’d and reached under, not far under, and felt something else. It was a stack of thin, stiff but bendable layers. Comics naturally were your first thought, but this material had been too stiff to be paper. Photos, maybe?

You abandoned your highlighter and grabbed that instead. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you. You can’t help it! 

Out came a small stack of Polaroids, bound with a rubber band.

You blinked at them, curiosity sparking, while Gerard found it in himself to finally focus on the project rather than trying to sneak glances at you. He was writing something down after highlighting a section of the book. You slipped the band slowly, trying not to make any noise, and you began to flip through the stack.

Your chest tightened. 

It was all you.

Walking across campus. Waiting at the bus stop. Laughing with a friend. Sipping coffee. Your face and body had been captured from a distance without you even realizing. Some of the photos were even of you doing more intimate actions, tying up your hair… bending over to pick up something you dropped… 

You in your dorm room window.

You froze as your stomach began to twist with shock, and soon something… darker. Slowly, you pulled one of the photos where your skirt had been hiked up a bit and set it to your right, face-up on the table, in between the two of you. 

Gerard glanced over absentmindedly, hard at work, and then completely froze. His hand stopped writing mid-sentence, causing some ink to pool on his paper where his pen had stopped. His eyes locked with the photo, and his face drained of color.

Though his voice worked perfectly fine before, everything caught in his throat. No words came out, just a strangled noise, like he had been caught in headlights. 

Your eyes flicked up to him, watching as the panic began to grow on his face. God, he looked so pathetic with his cheeks flushed and lip trembling slightly, his mouth opened and closed, fumbling for the right words to say. To somehow save himself from this situation.

“…W-where did you—“ he started, voice cracking.

“Under the couch,” you interrupted him, smoothly. You sat there with confidence, in control of the situation. He had to bend to you. 

You held up another photo, looking at it closely in front of him in the warm lamp light. “These are… interesting, Gerard.”

“Shit I- No, I just— Fuck, look, I can explain,” he stammered, not able to fully form a sentence as he suddenly flew forward to attempt to grab the photos, but you snapped your wrist back, smirking.

You were enjoying this. 

“You can explain?” Your tone was teasing, light, like this was all a game to you. Because in a way, it turned into one to get what you wanted. 

“So… you just accidentally followed me across campus with a camera? You accidentally,” you took a look at a random photo in the stack, “took a photo of me in a skirt on a windy day? And let’s not ignore the fact that some of these- some of these are from last school year. I didn’t even know you existed last school year.”  

His eyes were wide as you berated him, and his hands were hovering helplessly in the air before letting them fall back into his lap in defeat. He looked like he wanted to sink through the floor and fall through the Earth. 

How could he have been so careless? He finally got his chance with you, to have you so close to him finally, and he blew it. 

However, you continued to flip through the polaroids, landing on one with you bent over a desk in a library, your foot crossed over the other as you leaned down. The angle was from behind; you couldn’t see up your skirt, but it looked very suggestive. How did he even take this without anyone noticing? How long has he been doing this? 

Your smile sharpened, “Wow. You really are a little creep, aren’t you?“

He shuddered at your words, his breath hitched as shame washed over his face. And yet you noticed it. The way his thighs squeezed together and his breathing began to quicken. The way his pants suddenly seemed to get too tight. The way his hand quickly shot down to cover himself under the table, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

Oh.

You really had him now. 

You couldn’t help but feel so powerful from this situation. You knew you could do anything, and he would take it. All because you’re you. You let out a bubbly and playful laugh, though it wasn’t anything other than cruel, “Oh my god. Seriously? You’re actually hard right now? From me calling you a creep?”

Gerard let out a whimper as if he had been hurt; his face wasn’t any other color than red. The worst thing was that he couldn’t defend himself. It was all true. He didn’t dare to look at you, now, eye contact would kill him. 

You leaned in closer, playfully sliding the Polaroids closer to him on the table. The stack lay out in front of you as if it were evidence for a trial. Your eyes trained on him as your voice dropped to a syrupy sweet tone, “Pathetic. You like me finding out how much of a perv you are. You wanted me to find out, didn’t you?”

His breathing grew uneven once again, his lips parting like he might start begging for forgiveness. Or just start crying. It was hard to tell from his facial expression. 

And that’s when you realized how much control over him you had. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself.

“Didn’t you?” You repeated as Gerard struggled to come up with a response. 

“I mean- Don’t get me wrong. I noticed the way you’d stare at me across the room in class. You were so obvious, so I assumed you had a crush, but this… this is pathetic. You’re pathetic.”

Gerard’s entire body had flinched at the word. His face heated up to where it burned, his thighs pressing so tight together that you had seen his knees shake. 

You leaned closer to him over the coffee table, your voice intoxicatingly soft and sweet, “But you like it when I say that, don’t you?”

He whined as your breath hit his ear, “I— No, I—“ he couldn’t speak, and at this point, his hips were speaking for him. He shifted and stuttered, looking for friction from the fabric of his jeans, full of desperation. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my God. You’re humping the air. That’s so fucking adorable.” 

He choked out a noise; his eyes had not left the floor. Setting the photo down, you crawled onto the coffee table, your knees knocking against the wood. You leaned until your face was inches from his, “Look at me, Gerard.”

He immediately obeyed. His wide, glossy hazel eyes shone with humiliation and pure lust. 

“Good boy,” you whispered. His lips parted as if your words had shot right through him. 

Moving your hand to his chest, you then trailed a finger down, stopping right above his waistband. His stomach moved from his nervous breathing, and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. 

He’s so fucking adorable.

You didn’t touch further, just lazily circled your finger along the waistband where he was straining and twitching. 

“You’ve taken dirty pictures of me,” you murmured to him, “but now, you can’t even ask me to touch you? Do you even want me that bad?”

His voice hitched as he quickly replied, “Please.” It came out as a raspy beg.

“Please what?” You were evil. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, face burning as he felt the embarrassment creep up on him, “Please… touch me.” 

You grinned, “Mmm, you see, I just don’t think you deserve it. Creepy perverts like you don’t get what they want, ya know?” You sat back down, opposite side of the table, removing your hand, giving some distance from Gerard, which caused a look of alarm to wash over his face. He wanted you to himself. 

“They get laughed at.”

He let out a sound that can only be described as half a groan and half a whine. You almost felt pity for him… almost.

Instead, you made direct eye contact with him, a smirk slowly growing on your face as you slid your foot up to his shin under the table, teasing him as you slowly moved your way up to his inner thigh. His legs automatically opened, and he even inched closer. He was desperate for you to take him right then and there, but you only played along his inner thigh and moved back down, over and over.

Your foot grazed higher than before, and his breath hitched so that it came out as a strangled gasp, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the low coffee table, as if it was the only thing holding him back.

“Fuck,” he whispered, low and gravelly. 

Tilting your head, you feigned innocence, “What’s wrong, Gerard? Shouldn’t we get back to work? There’s a big project waiting for us…” 

His eyes finally met yours. Wide. Glassy. You could see he was on the edge of breaking..

“Pathetic,” you murmured, drawing your foot away completely. You stood, circling the table with a deliberate slowness before settling down beside him on the floor. You leaned in close enough for your lips to brush his ear as you whispered, “You’ll never get what you want from me.”

That did it.

The sound that escaped Gerard’s mouth wasn’t the pitiful, pathetic whimpers from before. No, this was guttural. As quickly as you blinked, Gerard grabbed you by your waist, pulling you up and pinning you down on the couch behind the two of you with ease. You gasped as his strong hands gripped you, holding you down tightly. He hovered his body over yours, his knee right in between your thighs.

“Don’t—“ his voice cracked, he was panting with a slight tremble as his hair fell in his face as he leaned over you, looking down. “Don’t fuck with me like that. Not anymore.” His hands had moved to pin your wrists above your head to the couch. There was a desperation in his tight grip that you knew he would not let go. Ever.

You stared up at the flushed boy above you; your initial wide-eyed face of shock had grown into a smirk. This feral change within him was something you wanted. You loved seeing just how far it would take for him to snap. 

“Finally,” you teased softly, despite no longer being in control, “I knew I could rile you up…”

His grip tightened, and there was a new look in his eye, dark and wild, like you had just permitted him to ruin you. And for the first time that night, Gerard smirked, knowing that after all those pleas, he got what he wanted. 

Your lips parted to speak, but you never got to start. Gerard didn’t wait to hear whatever quip you had to make. His mouth crashed into yours. It was a frantic, messy, and desperate kiss, his tongue now darting in. He kissed you like his life depended on it, and in a way, he felt like it did. You had been his life for so long now, every day you had been his every thought. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape you. It was like he had been starving for this, and even if he wanted to pace himself, he couldn’t. You tasted too damn good. 

Your wrists struggled against his grip; you wanted nothing more than to tug at his shirt, run your fingers through his hair, unbuckle his belt, but Gerard was in control now. And you were going at his pace. 

Gerard pulled back, and you whined from the loss of contact, causing him to scoff to himself.

He dipped down to kiss you again before muttering against your lips, “Fuck—“ he dragged his lips down to your jaw, kissing as he went to your throat, now sucking bruises onto your skin, licking them softly after as an apology for the pain, marking you as his. He finally got you, and he wanted people to know. 

His lips brushed your ear, leaving a slow, deliberate kiss before whispering, “I think about you…” His mouth moved down your throat, the words buzzing against your skin. “Every fucking…” He stopped at the low dip of your shirt, kissing along the exposed skin of your chest. “Every fucking night.” He buried his face against you, inhaling you like he was starving, while his knee pressed firmly between your thighs.

His confession, muffled against your chest, made your stomach twirl and flip in all sorts of directions. You had never been worshiped in such a way before; you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. All you could do was whimper beneath him and grind down on his knee, begging for more. 

He pulled up to look down on you, “I touched myself to those photos, to your face, your body, fuck— I can’t stop.” His hands left your wrists, but you didn’t dare move them; you let him do as he pleased. His hands roam your body, grabbing your waist, sliding up your shirt. He trembled with lust, unsure if he wanted to worship or ruin you now. 

And God- you realized you had won. This is what you wanted. See this pathetic loser crumble beneath you until he snapped. His confession lit something in you, something hungry, something dark. Your hands flew to his hair to tug, then you hooked your legs around his hips and dragged him hard down against you, grinding up on him. He groaned, low and guttural, grinding back into you desperately, his head dipping down to your neck, muttering swears. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, moving to tug at your shirt, up and over your head. His breathing was heavy as he returned to kissing you desperately, hands now fumbling with the button of your shorts. He tugged them down, now having successfully stripped you down to your bra and panties. 

And then, he froze.

Gerard pulled back, hovering above you. His frantic breathing calmed into long, shaky breaths as his eyes swept over you. The soft glow from the lighting made you look absolutely beautiful as the shadows danced along your curves. Your hair was fanned out across the cushions, messy from his hands, and you’d never seen anyone look at you the way he did. 

His lips parted, but no voice came out. He couldn’t form any words, even though his mind was thinking one thing. Just how much he adored you. 

His wide, glossy eyes shimmered, overwhelmed. A tear pricked at the corner of his eye, running down. 

“You’re… god, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking like it hurt him to say it out loud. 

Desperation no longer was driving him; he was awestruck. He couldn’t believe you were even real; you were someone Gerard could’ve only dared to dream about. He completely marveled at your beauty.    

And then, with a shaky breath and hand, he cupped your face, and you put your hand over his. He dipped down, the hunger taking over him at your reciprocation. He was more frantic than before, and you happily matched his pace, your heart hammering. He cupped your face as his other hand slid down to your thigh, pulling you closer to let your core feel just how hard he was. 

His hands are now fumbling with the clasp of your bra. As it finally snapped free, he let out a sigh, almost a moan, and pulled the straps from your shoulders and tossed it aside. 

“Jesus Christ,” Gerard breathed, his eyes taking in the sight of you now bare. His eyes shone with awe and lust. He dipped down, latching his mouth onto your breast and nipping and sucked rhythmically. When he bit down a bit harder, you hissed, only for him to immediately soothe the spot with his tongue and gentle kisses. Still, he couldn’t help but bite a few more times to elicit those noises again, after all, he suffered for so long to get here… you could take a little pain.

You arched as he dragged his teeth along your collarbones. Your hands tugged at his shirt, begging him to take it off. He smirked to himself— finally, you wanted him just as badly as he’d always wanted you. He happily obliged and took his shirt off, quickly returning to your body with adoring kisses. As your back arched up towards him, he left a wet trail of kisses down the center of your chest to your stomach, before coming back up to kiss your swollen lips. 

He began to fumble with his belt, whining as he struggled to unbuckle it, which caused you to help him. You undid it with just as much haste as he had, if not faster, and tugged them down. He kicked off his pants, leaving you both in your underwear. 

Honestly, both of you were so excited. So turned on. So, so desperate for each other. 

“I— Fuck,” you swore to yourself, your face hotter than you’d ever felt. You have never been this turned on, and the humiliating truth? It was because of Gerard Way that you got this hot and bothered. 

Gerard looked down at you with that sexy smirk you now couldn’t get enough of.  “What was that?” he asked sweetly, “Use your words, sweetheart…” he instructed you, his voice coming out low and velvety. 

“P-please.. just— I need you so bad. So bad, Gerard,” you breathed into his ear, pulling his head to your shoulder. You nipped at his ear, tempting him to go further. 

He pulled up and rested his forehead against yours, “Are you sure?” He paused, “I won’t be able to stop…” 

That’s the point.

“That’s okay.” 

And he leaned in for another tender kiss. Then bit your lip teasingly and pulled back to position himself between your thighs. He shoved his underwear off and let out a shaky, desperate whimper as his cock pressed against your soaked panties. He began to grind himself on you, already as hard as he could be. 

The lamplight gleamed off the sheen of sweat at his temple as he smirked down at you. He saw how desperate you have become. All because of him. This pathetic pervert got you under him, willing to let him do anything. He had to savor this moment; there wasn’t anything he wanted to waste. 

Gerard grabbed his member and dragged it agonizingly slow against the soaked fabric of your panties, the fabric hot and slick. The amused tilt of his head told you he was savoring every second of your desperation.

His tip nudged your clit through the thin material and lined it up with your hole, the fabric acting as a barrier. He began to thrust with quick, short pulses, just to watch you squirm. 

“Fuck, Y/N” He moaned, “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me…”

You arched and whined, nails digging into his shoulders as if you could pull him inside you by force. He groaned at the sight of desperation in your eyes. You were practically trembling from the teasing. How would you be when he’s finally fucking you?

“P-please, please, Gerard,” your voice whined, cracking with need.

“Who’s the pathetic one now?” Gerard taunted, voice low and ragged as you whimpered and begged beneath him. 

He continued to grind against your clothes core, slow and deliberate, until you were breathless and nearly crying from need. Your hips stuttered up, chasing more friction, but he pulled back and pinned your hips down firmly to keep control. He savored the way you writhed beneath him. Fuck, you were so needy.

Finally, he couldn’t hold himself back from you. With a frustrated growl, Gerard hooked his fingers under your panties and yanked them down, exposing your wet core. His breath hitched, wasting no time to grab his cock and start coating himself with your slick folds.

“Fuuuckk…” He moaned out, his head tipping back, “You’re this soaked for me… all from teasing?”

“God shut up,” you choked out. The teasing had caused you to become so sensitive; the skin-to-skin contact was overwhelming, “J-just fuck me,” you begged, “please.” 

That was all he needed. With one deep, merciless thrust, Gerard sank into you. He stretched you out, making your back arch off the couch as a broken cry escaped your lips.

His hand shot over to the drawer beside the couch, fumbling until he pulled out his Polaroid. He didn’t pull out. He didn’t even slow down. Instead, he angled the camera down, making sure the frame caught exactly what he wanted: his cock buried deep inside you, your panties shoved aside, your body trembling beneath him. He snapped a photo before you could process it, and the soft whirr of the photo printing could be heard.

You realized in disbelief that the picture had frozen the moment: him buried inside you, your body arched and open beneath him.

You stared up at him breathlessly and let out a laugh of disbelief, “Adding that to your collection?” 

He grinned and nodded, holding the photo up for just a second before tossing it aside to develop. “Damn right I am,” he rasped, his cock still pulsing deep inside you as his hips pressed against yours, “I had to capture how beautiful you look, full of me.”

Your cheeks burned, and you clenched from his words, making Gerard let out a guttural moan. He pulled out just to thrust back in harder, trying to press himself in even deeper. 

“Fuck— you’re so— tight,” he gasped, his voice breaking as his pace turned more frantic. You let out a strangled cry as he sped up, your body rocking up and down below him. Shocks of pleasure coursed through you as he lost control, his hips slamming down into you.

“shit, Y/N—“ He groaned, his forehead pressing to yours, his eyes half-lidded as he held your gaze, “Y-you’re mine, okay? Not anyone else’s. Mine.” 

You could only nod through your cries, nails digging into his back. He hissed at the sting but drove his hips in even harder, as though as punishing you for daring to belong to anyone else.

He slowed his thrusts down for you just long enough to catch your breath, “Say it,” he demanded, lowly.

The words spilled from your mouth before you could even think, breathless and wrecked, “I’m yours, Gerard. F-fuck, I’m yours.”

His smirk returned, and his pace snapped fast and brutal again, “Good girl,” he groaned, the praise breaking into a curse as your walls clenched around him again.

Gerard’s control snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight. His hips crashed into yours, over and over, the couch began to creak from the force. Every thrust was filled with passion, causing your moans to turn into choked sobs of pleasure.

His mouth found your neck, and he began to kiss. The rhythm was relentless as he didn’t let you catch another breath. 

“You feel that?” he panted, his mouth hot against your ear as he bottomed out inside you, pressing himself as deep as possible, “Feel how I’m in you? Filling you up? You were fucking made for me. You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” His voice cracked into a moan, his whole body trembling with the overwhelming need to stay buried inside you, to make sure you never forgot who you belonged to.

Your whole body quivered beneath him as the pressure kept building. You felt yourself close to coming undone, and Gerard wanted so desperately to hear that. He shifted his body as he grasped your hips tightly, angling his thrusts until he hit the spot that made you see stars. 

Your mouth opened, yet no words could come out besides struggling moans. Your orgasm coursed through you, your legs trembled, Gerard groaned into your ear, and it only drove you higher. Every shudder, every squeeze of your walls around him made him lose a little more control.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him sent Gerard over the edge. With dilated eyes, he tightened his grip around your waist as he began to thrust faster, using the friction of your orgasm to chase his own. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, a high-pitched whine coming out as his climax tore through him. His whole body shuddered against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he spilled into you, completely lost in the heat of it. 

For a moment, the room was filled with only the sound of your heavy breaths, tangled together. His forehead pressed to yours as he struggled to catch his breath. His glossy eyes scanned your face, softening as he realized just how wrecked you looked, and just how much he adored it. 

He collapsed beside you, still buried inside, his chest heaving. For a long moment, neither of you could move, completely fucked and worn. Gerard shut his eyes as his mind raced; he was afraid that if he opened his eyes, you’d disappear. He kept his hand entwined with yours, squeezing lightly as reassurance.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. He kissed your forehead, your nose, then hovered over your lips again, softer this time. “I lost control, didn’t I?” he admitted, a little sheepish but still smirking. “Couldn’t stop even if I wanted to…”

You chuckled weakly, tugging him closer. “I didn’t want you to stop.”

That made his breath hitch. He kissed you again, slow and lingering, his hands running down your sides. Still inside you, he gave the slightest, lazy thrusts, almost absentminded, like he couldn’t stand the thought of pulling away just yet.

Gerard leaned his head into your shoulder, muttering almost to himself, “Mine. You’re mine now.” His tone was quiet but possessive.

And as you curled your arms around him, your heavy breaths coming out as soft whimpers, you realized he wasn’t just saying it in the heat of the moment. He meant it. 

But you didn’t mind.

There was only him, only you, and the quiet, intimate aftermath of everything he’d just lost control over.

Even in his pathetic, fumbling, utterly human way, Gerard was yours, and for the first time, he seemed to realize it completely, like the world could end and he’d be satisfied just lying here with you.

[ilyamustdie]

gerard way filthy smut coming tonight..... maybe within the next few hours hehehehe

[ilyamustdie]

gerard way filthy smut coming tonight..... maybe within the next few hours hehehehe

[ilyamustdie]

writing a pervy gerard oneshot and then i'll get back on Summer in Belleville hehehe, plot developments are coming mwahahaha

[ilyamustdie]

yes i started the first day of fall semester today, no that will not get in the way of my fanfics and fangirling

[ilyamustdie]

HIAIAIAAAA!! ITS SO GOOD TO SEE NEW WRITERS LIKE I AMMM<33

Do you take ray…? 😇😇

IM NIT ASKING FOR SMUT DW BUT MAYBE FLUFF TO TEST THE WATERS <333

maybe going on a date with ray to celebrate our sobriety <33

OR ANOTHER PROMPT..

Guitarist reader playing the guitar(duh :3) with ray and we wanna know how to play a song <33

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BABE🫶🫶

-Violet <3 (ray turon’s number one fangirl !!)

Chords and Confessions °ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

pairing: ray x reader

tags: established friends to romance, mutual pining, romantic tension, first kiss, heated kisses at the end (slight nsfw) mcr isn't popular yet

wc: 1,775

A/N: hehe hi violet thank u for being my first request!! ofc i take ray, i plan on writing for all the members :) i'm going with the second prompt because think I'll be able to portray that much better. btw i had sm fun writing this! IK YOU SAID NO SMUT - i might make a part 2 just to continue the story if people r interested - but theres slight nsfw at the very very end! feel free to skip as it's not important for plot or anything!!

You’d been playing guitar for almost 4 years now, and it was the best decision you made. It’s become something so deeply rooted within you, there isn’t a chance of ever quitting. This hobby began the summer before senior year of high school, when your eye was caught by a Misfits CD cover at the thrift store. As soon as you listened to it at home, something just clicked. Suddenly, all you wanted was a guitar in your hands!

Now, a few years later, you’ve graduated from high school and have gotten more involved in the Belleville music scene than before. You’ve been in your current band for about 6 months, playing shows around town in basements, backyards, and sometimes small clubs. It definitely was a new experience for you, playing live shows, but you weren’t new to the scene itself. Throughout high school, before you had picked up playing guitar, you would hang around venues with your friends, attending shows and meeting new people. You’ve been living for this for years now. 

Your band’s drummer happened to be friends with the guys in My Chemical Romance because of high school, and about three months ago, they asked your band to open for them. Of course, you said yes, and it turned out to be the best performance you’d ever had. By then, you were starting to notice familiar faces in the crowd, people who kept coming back to your shows, and that rush fueled you onstage.

That night, you and the guys from My Chem had gone out for dinner to hang out. It was a night full of laughter, everyone had gotten along really well, and you all shared stories from previous shows you had attended or played. You felt like you were on a high as you sat with the guys; they all treated you like you’d always been part of the circle. 

Sometime during the night, Ray had leaned over to you, his voice laced with curiosity. 

“So,” he said, “how long have you been playing the guitar? You’re really good.” 

You wore a bashful smile, ducking your head a bit. Taking compliments on your playing never got easier. 

“About 3 years now, I started the summer before senior year of high school,” you replied, a shy smile on your face, “It started because of the Misfits,” you added with a small laugh.

He gave you a grin, one that instantly made you feel comfortable. “Yeah, I can totally see that,” he said, laughing. “You play with a lot of passion, really cool to see. If you’re ever free, we should totally jam sometime!”

And jam you did. 

You guys have been friends since, and over the past 3 months, have hung out multiple times a week. It was only natural for you guys to get close from being around each other so much; you would attend shows together, trade CDs, and sit strumming your guys’ guitars for hours. 

Now, here you sat with Ray by your side, sprawled across the old couch in his basement. You hunched over with a guitar in your lap, looking at the chords for this one song you’re trying to learn. It’s definitely the hardest song you’ve attempted to. You’re always up for a challenge because you knew mastering this song would just make you a better guitarist, which is what you strived for. 

Your fingers began to cramp as you tried the same chord progression for the embarrassingly high number of times. Huffing you yourself, you straighten out your back, roll your shoulders, then stretch up your arms, and groan. 

Ray looked up from the magazine he was reading, “You’re really set on that one, huh?”

You looked over at him with defeat in your eyes, “Yeah,” you sighed “I can’t stop, but it’s killing me! I just want to get this stupid song down.”

He had a look of amusement on his face. Ray knew he could play that song perfectly if he tried, but he could never rub that into your face. He would feel so mean. “You know this is like, a super hard riff to play, right? Like this is for guitarists that have been playing for years.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I picked it, duh.”

Ray chuckled and shifted so he sat up, moving in right next to you on the couch, “Alright, show me what you’ve got so far.”

You sighed, pulling the guitar back into your lap and positioning your fingers onto the frets, tapped your foot to keep the beat, and began to strum. A note was missed, and the beat was a little off, which made you cringe hard.

Ray leaned in, his messy curls falling forward as he watched your fingers swiftly glide across the neck of the instrument. He always loved to watch you play. Your fingers were mesmerizing to him. Was that weird? He just found something so alluring about your technique. 

He noticed the mistakes you made; it wasn’t terrible, but not the smoothest. He had to admit, you weren’t far from getting the song down.

“Hey, definitely not bad, but-“ he reached his right arm around you, ghosting his fingertips over your hands to gently adjust their positioning on the fretboard, “maybe this will help. You know I love how you play, but try what I would do for this chord.”  

You felt your breath hitch just a bit; his hands were so warm. They were steady and confident, the perfect guide for your fingers. You could feel his arm around your back, making you feel protected. His scent had caught your attention; it was a warm, deep musk that was intoxicating. Ray’s presence always made you feel safe, but this new level of comfort between the two of you had escalated that feeling. 

The most physical touch you and Ray have had before this was knees touching as you sat, and your hands occasionally brushing against each other as you walked side by side. 

This was new… and you liked it. A lot.

You began to play again, and his fingers slid along with yours. He took the initiative to tap his foot for you to keep track of the beat. You noticed how the sound came out clearer and definitely had better timing.

After the riff, you looked up at him, a grin spreading across your face, and he gave you a soft, encouraging smile. He spoke sweetly, “There you go, that wasn’t too hard now, right?”

Something the way his words sounded, how his eyes looked at you like you could do anything, made your heart flutter in your chest.  Every musician knows just how intimate it is to share music, and you knew music had always felt personal to you. But as you were almost sitting in his lap with his arm snugly around you, his hand lingering over yours even though you had stopped playing, it felt otherworldly. 

You and he had locked eyes, staring at each other for longer than friends should’ve. Heat crept into your cheeks, “Again,” you murmured, trying to control the situation. Your voice had come out lower than you intended. 

Ray’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. He nodded and put his focus back onto your fingers, slightly adjusting the placement of yours with gentle force, and after playing it for the second time with him, there was even more of a difference in performance.

“Beautiful,” you heard him breathe out, as if it came out without realizing. And for a moment, you weren’t sure if Ray was talking about the song or about you.

You turned again, your eyes meeting his, “Thank you,” you whispered. 

The silence that followed behind your words was thick. His hand still rested over yours, heat radiating off of him, and neither of you dared to move. Ray’s eyes flickered down to your lips but quickly went back to your eyes, his face looking hesitant. 

He was worried about crossing the line.

Your pulse hammered as your hand found itself trailing up his arm, slowly. You made your way up to brush a few curls out of his face, tucking them behind his ear, and cupped his cheek. That was all it took. He leaned down, slow, letting you back out in case you changed your mind. But how could you? This was Ray Toro. 

His lips finally met yours, and he moved his hand from your fingers to your waist. It was unhurried and tender, the type of kiss you thought you could only dream of. Both of you kept a slow, comfortable movement, savoring it like you both had been waiting for this. 

When you pulled back, Ray had the sweetest smile on his face. It was contagious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked. His face was flushed, his lack of breath apparent. 

“Again?” He whispered, echoing your earlier word.

You nodded. You began to lean in, and Ray leaned in faster.  

SLIGHT NSFW ——————

The kiss began to quicken compared to the previous one; he moved rhythmically against yours with an urgency you didn’t expect. His hand moved up to cup your jaw, tilting your face more towards him, while his other arm tightened around your waist. He let out a soft groan

The guitar balanced awkwardly between you both until it slipped from your lap, landing on the floor with a muted thud, but neither of you flinched. You only pressed closer, fingers tangling in his curls as his mouth opened against yours.

Your sweet Ray had suddenly started acting very bold. 

He then gripped your waist with both hands and turned your body, guiding you with ease until you were straddling his lap. His grip remained tight on you as if he couldn’t bear to let you slip away. You shifted against him, and he was now letting out a whimper. Heat rushed through you, your senses completely elevated. 

You both pulled back for air, completely breathless from the passionate kiss, possibly (definitely) the best kiss you’ve had. He rested his forehead on yours as he looked down at you, “God, I have wanted to kiss you since you opened for our band…” he murmured, before dipping down to kiss you again, this time deep and tender as his hands trailed up your sides. Your heart was slamming in your chest; you were sure he was able to feel it.  

God, if you knew having Ray help you with a song you’d already mastered would lead to this, you would’ve pulled the same trick weeks ago.

[ilyamustdie]

request rules 𓂃˖ ♪彡

status: open ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

i'm still sort of deciding what i am and am not comfortable with writing, so this list is subject to change. if you're not sure if your request fits the guidelines, send it anyways! no harm in trying :)

what i wont write:

1nc3st

p3d0philia

z00philia

pregnancy

k!nks that im not into [breeding, v0re, scat, feed3rism]

anything other than mcr (just gonna keep this a mcr page!)

and the rest is free rein, i am comfortable with smut!! i am someone who will write for darker subjects, within reason, but again, if you aren't sure if yours is acceptable, send it anyway! i love reading your guys' ideas.

[ilyamustdie]

requests: keep them coming!

for those who have put them in: i'm going to start working on them today <3

[ilyamustdie]

im obsessed w ur gerard series 🤭

omg thank you!!!!! i did not expect people to like this series at all but im so excited to start writing the next chapter :P

[ilyamustdie]

Summer in Belleville

Ch. 2

Pairing: Basement!Gerard Way x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: creepy gerard, obsessive behavior, stalking mentioned

word count: 3276

Summary: At the end of your sophomore year of college, Mikey invites you to stay at his house for a week at the beginning of summer since you're from California and won't be seeing him until your junior year starts. What you don't know is that staying there is going to bring a lot more than just fun times with your best friend, Mikey. Someone else is a little more than excited to have you so close.

A/N: ohohoh... we can start seeing gerard showing more of his true colors as the first day progresses... interesting drawings you have there gerard.. (apologies for any typos, its 12 am and i have work in 5 hours LOL)

You tugged the towel from your damp hair and ran your fingers through the strands, humming faintly to yourself as you rummaged through your bag for your hair products. Unfortunately, you had fallen victim to damaged hair from all the dyeing and bleaching you’ve done, so haircare has become an important part of your routine. You’ve tried getting Mikey into it as much as you, but he’s too stubborn. 

After throwing on a pair of sweats and a comfortable shirt, you leisurely padded down the hallway, looking at the framed photos on the wall as you went. Some of the frames were a little crooked, as if they had been knocked askew and never fixed. It gave them character. Most of the photos were of Mikey and Gerard as kids- birthday parties, first days of school, Halloween costumes, their hair always a little messy, and their lopsided childish smiles prominent. You fondly smiled to yourself, seeing your best friend so young was such an interesting thing. It’s hard to imagine Mikey before you and him met, as it feels like you two have known each other forever.

You continued down the stairs to the living room and followed the smell of takeout pizza Mikey said he would order. Mikey was sprawled across the couch, his glasses at the end of his nose as he flipped through some comic books that were laid out on the couch, presumably from Gerard. He glanced up when he heard you greet him and grinned.

“Feel better?”

“So much better. You know how I get from not feeling clean.” 

Mikey let out a small laugh and got up from where he was lying to grab the CD player that had been set on a coffee table across the room. He headed back over to the couch and patted next to him. 

“Bring that blanket next to you and let me show you these CDs. You’re going to totally be jealous.” Mikey said, nodding his head at the blanket that rested upon the chair’s backside, right next to you.

Grabbing it, you rolled your eyes with a smile before dropping onto the couch beside him. The cushions swallowed you up, and for a moment, you just let yourself sink into the plush comfort. The blanket draped over you added a soft, fuzzy warmth that made everything feel even more at ease.

You smiled to yourself as Mikey started flipping through the stack of disks, casually pointing out where and when he’d picked each one up. Sometimes he even mentioned the price if it stuck in his memory, like it was part of the story. It was easy, familiar. This was just what you and Mikey did. You two were comfortable with each other. Throughout college, there have been countless nights when you guys would have a sleepover because walking back to your dorm at 4 in the morning doesn’t sound ideal. 

“Holy shit, how many of these do you have?” You asked, noticing a whole other bin of CDs next to the couch. 

“Dude. I told you I’m into collecting these.” 

Before you could make fun of him, you glanced sideways towards the entrance of the living room and noticed Gerard. He appeared in the doorway, quiet, shifting on his feet. His damp black hair was pushed away from his face; it looked like he had freshly washed it. The few times you’ve seen him, he’d always been very… well… greasy. 

You blinked in surprise, almost doing a double-take. His hair looked so soft and sat so nicely, framing his face perfectly. 

“Oh- hey,” you said, caught off guard at how different he looked without the usual unkempt presence you’re used to. 

Gerard’s eyes snapped to yours immediately, like he’d been waiting for you to notice him. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as his lingering eyes moved from you to Mikey, noticing your close proximity. His fidgeting stilled as he tightly clutched the hem.  

“Hey,” he said, giving a small nod, like acknowledging you was harder than it should be. 

Mikey, oblivious to the growing tension, suddenly spoke out with a grin, “Dude, come here. We’re going through my CDs, and I need you to show her your Bauhaus one. She’s gonna be so jealous.” 

Gerard’s gaze flicked from his brother to you, but it never really left you. The way you were curled into the couch next to his brother, sharing a blanket and laughing like it was second nature, made something twist in his stomach. It wasn’t anger; he couldn’t be mad at his brother. And there was no reason to be angry, but he felt out of place. Like he was intruding on something that wasn’t his. 

He cleared his throat a little too loudly and shoved his hair out of his face, muttering, “Yeah, sure. I organized these yesterday.” 

Gerard moved over to the boxes and crouched down to rummage through them, though he couldn’t entirely focus. His head tilted slightly as he listened to your laugh, loving how melodic you sounded. He pulled out the case for “In The Flat Field” and turned the case over in his hands. Gerard loved to collect CDs too; it was one of the hobbies Mikey and he shared. Both of their love for music ran deep. 

His eyes traced the worn plastic, but not really seeing it. Instead, his gaze kept flicking sideways—at you, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with Mikey, laughing as you poked fun at his stacked boxes of CDs.

“You’re such a nerd,” you teased, bumping Mikey lightly with your elbow.

Mikey shoved you back with a grin. “Takes one to know one.”

Gerard pressed his lips together, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile too, but couldn’t quite manage it. He handed the case to Mikey, who handed it to you, muttering something about how rare it really was, though his voice barely cut through your and Mikey’s banter.

And then he noticed things he shouldn’t. The faint wet marks darkening your shirt where strands of hair had dripped against the fabric because of your shower. The subtle scent of your Shampoo reached him even from across the room… what was it? Coconut maybe..? The way you absently rubbed lotion into your hands earlier, leaving a faint shine across your knuckles. Things no one else seemed to care about, but Gerard cataloged them like they mattered. But they did matter because it was you.

“You don’t deserve this shit.” You teased, causing Gerard to part his lips and let out a quiet laugh, causing you to look at him with a smile. He felt himself blush from the eye contact you two made, and for a moment, he forgot Mikey was even in the room. It was just you. 

“Hey! Come on, it’s not even technically mine. Yeah, Gerard and I share a collection, but he’s the one who found it.” Mikey said, giving credit where credit is due. 

When you tugged the blanket higher and leaned into Mikey’s side, Gerard’s jaw tightened. He shoved both hands into the pouch of his hoodie, rocking back on his heels like he couldn’t decide if he should stay or go. His stomach churned, and he hated himself for noticing the way you two were so close.

Mikey didn’t notice. You didn’t notice. But Gerard did. And he couldn’t stop.

—————————————

By the time the pizza had cooled to a point where it was edible, the boxes were opened, and paper plates were stacked on the counter; you and Mikey were still lost in conversation. Gerard trailed behind, grabbed a slice, then slid into the seat across from both of you at the dinner table. The bracelets on your wrist jingled as you animatedly talked with your hands.

He picked at the crust of his pizza slice and felt his appetite fade. He was so excited to have you here, but he just felt so trapped. He wants to talk to you, to get to know you, make you laugh and smile just like his brother- but it’s so hard. You feel so unreachable despite being right in front of him. He could see how easily Mikey got you to grin, how natural it was for you to lean in closer when he would lower his voice to whisper a joke for effect. 

Gerard could only wonder what it would feel like to have you lean in close to him to listen, to hear your laugh because he had caused it, to feel your arm playfully touch his shoulder, to feel your touch at all…

“Gerard, you good?” Mikey asked suddenly, his tone laid back, but his eyes narrowed just a bit, 

Gerard blinked, snapping back from his thoughts. He forced a smile and picked up his pizza to take a bite, “Yeah, I’m good, just tired… I’ve been working on a new comic idea so…” 

Mikey nodded, making an encouraging comment towards his brother. You gave a sympathetic smile and made note of how dedicated to the craft he is. Artists really can obsess over their work.

Mikey suddenly smirked like he was about to start trouble, “Do you remember that guy from the beginning of this year?” 

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands. “Oh my god, please don’t bring him up, Mikey, I swear.”

He laughed at your reaction, “C’mon, we just ended the school year, let’s recount all the stupid shit we did,” he said, trying to justify the topic. 

“Y/N dated this guy for, what, a month? She met him at one of the house shows I had told you about, Gee, and he-“ 

“-it was 3 months actually, and he thought he was some tortured genius because he wrote shitty poetry,” you interrupted, already laughing so hard you almost snorted. 

Gerard lifted his brows. He loved seeing you laugh so hard like this; you were beautiful. The way your eyes creased at the sides, your smile beaming so bright, it took up your entire face. But he couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist a bit. A guy? Dated? 

“He’d read it out loud to her at parties,” Mikey added, doubling over with laughter, “sometimes I thought he was going to start snapping instead of clapping at shows we’d bring him to.” 

You continued to laugh, your face red with embarrassment mixed with amusement. 

You grinned, wiping a tear from your eye. “Okay, it’s good to have a dramatic flare, but this was not a good one.” 

Mikey let out a sharp laugh. “Absolute loser. And then, after Y/N dumped him—“ Mikey shot you a knowing grin, “—he kept showing up at her dorm unannounced! Trying to win her back or some shit. He sulked for days.”

You groaned, but your smile didn’t fade. “Yeahhh, that got old really fast. Mikey practically lived with me for a week just to keep me from tearing my hair out.”

Mikey leaned back with a smug smirk, “Bestest friend anyone could have. I think I pulled off 6 separate poems that were taped onto her door. I felt so bad for her roommate…” 

Gerard’s eyes scanned as you continued to reminisce with Mikey, his heart aching. He realized how he hadn’t known any of this about you. He hadn’t known you dated someone for three months. He hadn’t known you went through late-night dorm drama, that you needed Mikey around just to feel safe. 

From across the table, Gerard could only think about how he wanted to know those things. He wanted to know all of it. The stories that make you roll your eyes, the secrets that are shared late at night, everything that Mikey clearly got without asking. 

And maybe that was the worst part. Because in his head, Gerard had built you into someone familiar- he remembered every detail from that very first meeting. It was burned into his memory and replayed like a film on loop. From then, he had imagined you a thousand different ways since then, convincing himself he understood you, that he knew you. 

But as he sat there, watching you just as he had wanted to for so long, he was hit with the sharp truth: he didn’t know you at all. Not really. 

He took a bite of his pizza, trying to ignore the way his chest tightened. 

—————————————

You had gone to bed early, well, does 12 AM still count as early? You and Mikey were used to staying up to at least 2 together, so 12 in the morning felt early enough. The traveling had caught up to you, so you said goodnight and went up to your room. 

And here you lie in the bed, listening for any noise at all, the occasional creaking of old floorboards and the AC kicking in and out throughout the night. You stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were so exhausted 45 minutes ago, and now, as soon as you got comfortable in bed, your throat decided to get extremely dry. Huffing to yourself, you pulled the covers off of you and slipped into the hallway, tiptoeing down the stairs toward the kitchen. 

As you approached the doorframe, you noticed the soft, warm glow of a light coming from the kitchen. You paused to listen, hearing a faint scratching noise, like a pencil on paper. You got closer and peeked in, and you found Gerard sitting at the kitchen counter, hunching over a sketch book. A cigarette rested between his fingers; he took a long drag as he continued to skillfully move his pencil back and forth, shading a part of his drawing. 

You stood there for a second, just watching him. His long black hair was tucked behind his ear, showcasing his side profile. You couldn’t help but admire just a bit; he really did look… pretty here. Mikey would kill you if he knew you thought that. Gerard was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice you at first.

“Hey,” you whispered gently, and his head shot up.

His heart went haywire. Shit. You. Standing there in the doorway. He noticed how your hair was a little messy from presumably tossing around in bed. The lighting of the dimmed lights had cast perfectly on you, like you belonged in one of his comic panels. 

Fuck. Gerard’s heart quickened when he realized what was on his page. Of course, you had to come in when he was sketching you again. 

“Uh- hey,” he stammered as his hand moved to the left of the page to quickly flip it, almost ripping it out of his sketchbook from how fast he went.

Real smooth, Gerard.

But it wasn’t quick enough. He noticed how your eyes caught the page before he flipped it, and saw you recognize yourself. Panic began to rise in Gerard. She saw. She knows. 

But you just softly moved into the kitchen, like nothing happened. Like you weren’t about to completely berate him and call him creepy. 

As you moved closer, he attempted to steady his breathing, tried to pretend the cigarette smoke was the reason why his voice came out so weak, “You couldn’t sleep either?” 

You made your way over to the cabinets, eyeing him slightly, and opened one casually, “Yeah, not sure why exactly. I guess I’m just thirsty.” You said, reaching up for a glass. 

Gerard couldn’t help himself. His eyes betrayed him as he followed the curve of your figure, stretching up to reach the glass. The hem of your top had lifted slightly, and Gerard thought he would pass away right then and there. He caught himself and quickly averted his eyes back to his sketchbook, which was now on an old sketch he had done earlier that day. Not of you this time. 

Still, the image was completely etched into his mind, sharper than any pencil lead could capture. 

You took the glass, filled it, and glanced over at the boy next to you, “By the way, I never got to thank you,” you said, adding, “for letting me stay, I mean. Thanks for being so cool about me crashing at your place,” you explained with a light laughter. 

Gerard’s throat went dry. He wanted to say it was nothing and he didn’t mind, that he would actually let you stay forever if you wanted. He’d make sure you’re taken care of, and you could have all the coconut scented hair products you cou- 

“Mikey’s told me a lot about you, actually,” is what tumbled out of his mouth instead as his thoughts became so, so overwhelming. 

You softly giggled at the statement, noting how awkward he can be, but you brushed past it, “Hopefully good things?”

“Only good,” he said rather quickly. Maybe too quickly. He turned his gaze elsewhere and then back on you, feeling the burning sensation of heat on his cheeks. God, he hated himself. Just be normal. 

You nodded towards the sketchbook as Gerard awkwardly cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. You wanted to give him an easy out: “Are you working on that comic you mentioned earlier?” 

He thought to himself, slightly confused. Oh. Oh my god. Gerard realized she had remembered something he said before. He had lied to Mikey, saying he was working on a new comic when, in fact, that was not true; he just needed an excuse. Gerard couldn’t help but feel a little giddy as he thought about how a piece of him was important enough to be stored in your mind. 

Does this mean you thought of him? 

“Uh, no, this is actually something different. Just some random stuff…” He said, looking down at what was on the paper. 

It was a technical drawing of a rather tall building, all the windows shaded out except one. Gerard’s stomach twisted because he knew exactly what it was. Your dorm building from sophomore year. He had drawn it before he left your campus after moving Mikey in beginning of sophomore year. That single lit window on the top right? That had been yours. He remembered finding out which dorm you were in by following you back after you surprised Mikey on move-in day of Sophomore year. 

He just wanted to make sure a sweet girl like you got back safe… There are some real creeps out there. 

Gerard swallowed as he saw your eyes trained on his sketchbook, and you leaned over slightly to get a closer look.  You took a sip of water and smiled, “It’s so good. Your style fits you perfectly.” 

Gerard let out an internal sigh, relief washing over him because you hadn’t realized what building it was. He made a mental note to thank whatever divine being above was watching over him.

And then Gerard realized what you had said. For a second, Gerard felt his brain short-circuit. Compliments didn’t come easily for him, and hearing one from you? Wow. It was dizzying. He wanted to hear your voice repeat that phrase over and over again.

Gerard finally looked up at you and met your eyes. His chest felt tight, but not in the way it had been all day. It was something sweet, something he wanted to feel all the time. He let out a genuine smile, “Thank you,” he whispered.

And in that kitchen, with the curling smoke rising from the ashtray with his forgotten cigarette, he thought that if you stayed here a little longer, he’d draw this too. The glass in your hand, your beautiful eyes that made his stomach do flips, the way you made the night feel less hollow.