I’m so glad you’re here! You can call me Raven! I’m 21 years old and I made this blog to share my MCR related art and writing and make some mutuals who love MCR as much as I do! Gerard and Ray are my favs and I ADORE Bullets.
Feel free to request anything you want to see! I’m relatively new to writing smut so it may be a little awkward but I’m posting it anyways! I’m also happy to take anon asks if you want to grab an emoji! :)
I post a lot of random thoughts too, especially watching livestreams, so here is a condensed list of all my fics so you can find them easily!
"Pretty Boy" - cheerard x gender neutral reader (smut)
"Boys Don't Cry" - revenge!Gee x fem reader (smut)
"Seven Minutes in Heaven" - basement!Gee x gender neutral reader (fluff)
"Wanna Watch you Fall Apart" - ProRev!Frerard x fem photographer!reader (smut)
"Like a Sexy Pirate?" - Gerard x gender neutral reader
"Like a Sexy Pirate?" (Extended Smutty edition)
"Must be Dreaming" - 2008!ray x gender neutral crew!reader (smut)
"Old Habits" - Angsty breakup Gee x fem reader (smut)
So sorry I haven’t written anything in a while! I’ve been sooo busy with school and my health issues flaring up. I have to go get a bunch of needles stuck in my arm for a nerve test on Monday but maybe I’ll have some downtime while I’m resting to write something for you guys! 🖤
Content: Sickening amounts of angst and yearning, but don't worry they fuck at the end. :) Drinking, a little smoking, references to substance abuse.
Word Count: 3,713
You almost don’t come.
You sit in your car outside the Way house for a full three minutes, engine off, fingers tight around the steering wheel like it might bolt without you. The place looks the same—warm porch lights, music bleeding faintly through the walls, silhouettes moving past the curtains. A few months. That’s all it’s been. Long enough to function. Not long enough to forget. You hated that it still felt like home.
You tell yourself you’re not here for him. You’re here because you were invited. Because your brother was here. Because your best friend was here. Because you’re not going to be the girl who disappears just because a relationship ended. Because you’re fine.
You smooth your shirt, check your reflection in the rearview mirror, and step out before you can change your mind. At least you looked hot. You thought maybe that would make you feel better.
Inside, it’s louder than you expected and busier than you’d ever seen the house before. Usually it was just your immediate circle - you and the guys. But when the idea of a party had gotten thrown around, Frank had insisted some bullshit about “expanding the network.” You weren’t sure if the crowd made this all better or worse. Someone hugs you before you can get your bearings.
“Heyyyyyy!!” Mikey was already incredibly tipsy, a slow smile that was all teeth spreading across his face.
"Hey, Mikes," You smiled and returned the hug. You wanted to keep holding on. It felt so comfortable and familiar that it nearly made you cry. But no. No, you were fine. He handed you a red plastic cup filled with some sort of mystery liquor. You stared down into the cup, heart hammering, watching your reflection bob dully on the surface of the liquid.
Before you could ask the question you felt like you were dying to know, Mikey, ever the flirty life of the party, had already scurried off into the crowd somewhere. You scanned the room, desperate for another familiar face. After a few moments, you spotted your brother's familiar head of curls bobbing in the corner. Then Frank. Thank god.
You sank down on the couch beside Ray with a heavy sigh, finally taking a swig of Mikey's mystery drink. Your face puckered uncontrollably at the sour taste. "Hey."
"Hey," Ray leaned his head against yours briefly in greeting.
"You left me."
"You were taking too long to get ready, and I had to help Frank grab the liquor and haul it in." Ray laughed. "Sorry. I can drive ya home though."
Frank winked and raised his cup to emphasize Ray's point about the liquor. You rolled your eyes, but a slight smile played along your lips. Then it hit you. That realization of where you were. The fact that you were sitting on his couch. The fact that you could see him at any second. Fuck. You glanced around the room again nervously, searching for that pair of hazel eyes. Nothing.
Ray noticed immediately. "Haven't seen him yet."
"You haven't?"
"He's probably out somewhere avoiding all this shit...or hiding in his cave." You'd never seen Ray this pissed off at Gerard before - or at anyone for that matter. Ray always had this 'assume the best' mentality and never really got mad at the other boys, even when they forgot him at a gas station.
"And...her?"
"Haven't seen her."
"She's probably off with her tongue down his- shit. Fuck. I'm sorry I didn't-" Frank had let the words slip out before he could stop himself. "Fucking vodka- shit..." Frank quickly put his cup down on the table with a disgusted look.
"It's fine...I know." You reassured him. You knew he hadn't said that to hurt you, but it didn't make it any less true. She stuck to him like Velcro. Like they were fused at the fucking hip. That wasn't even the part that pissed you off, though; it was the fact that he acted so goddamn unaffected. Like the past three years hadn't mattered. No explanation, no valid reason, just some bullshit, copout answer about you deserving better. But you didn't...and you sure as hell didn't want better. You wanted him.
The front door swung open. The movement caught your eye.
Then you see him.
Gerard stopped short in the doorway when he saw you. He looked good...different, maybe? His hair was a little shorter, and his natural roots were peaking through. He was wearing that old Misfits sweatshirt that you used to steal from his closet when you stayed over. He didn't move, and your stomach dropped in that annoying, involuntary way.
Then she showed up in the doorway. She was effortlessly pretty, laughing still about something he must have said before he opened the door. She looked carefree, like someone who hadn't sat on the floor of the bathroom for hours holding him as he cried all the substances out of his system. You hated that your first instinct was comparison. None of this was her fault. Not really. Even if to your selfish, jealous heart it felt like it was.
You took a quick sip from your drink, even though it burned. You'd rather focus on that feeling than whatever the fuck was going on inside of you right now. You thought about leaving. No one would blame you if you did, but then you'd have to deal with feeling weak. "Need a smoke." You stood up quickly. Ray looked like he wanted to reach out and stop you, but he didn't.
You stepped out into the cool night air and sat on the concrete steps out at the back of the house. The familiarity of this spot hit you square in the chest. Only this time, instead of turning to your left to see Gerard's face in the flickering orange glow of the lighter, you saw nothing but the freezing darkness as you fished a lighter out of your jacket pocket to do it yourself.
This time, your hands trembled more than the flame. You cupped it anyway, bringing the cigarette to your lips, inhaling like you’ve done with him a thousand times before.
The back porch light was still busted. It flickered once and died, leaving you in that soft spill of noise from inside—the bass from some Black Sabbath song thudding through the walls. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the dark.
You almost didn't hear the door open. But the soft creak gave it away. You didn't turn around right away. You knew who it was, and you didn't trust your face not to give you away.
“You’re still smoking those?” His voice was closer than you expected, softer too, in a way that squeezed the air from your lungs more than the smoke.
"Yeah. Old habits die hard." You finally turned around. His hands were shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie, the sleeves pushed up slightly, exposing just a sliver of his pale wrists. You traced them with your eyes, your fingers tingling with the memory of his pulse thrumming under them.
"I didn't know you were coming," he said after a moment of silence.
“I was invited.”
“I know, I just—” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. Shorter. You liked it longer. “I didn’t think you’d want to.”
You let out a small laugh. “Didn’t think I’d want to come to a party? Yeah, shocking.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?" He didn't answer right away. He looked tired. Not physically...just tired in that way you used to recognize instantly. The way that meant he was thinking too much and saying too little.
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” There it is. The truth comes out eventually.
You take another drag of the cigarette, buying yourself time. Your chest felt tight, like someone’s pressing a thumb into a bruise that never healed, and your mind raced with a million thoughts, but you couldn't seem to catch any of them.
“I didn’t,” you admitted. “But I didn’t want to be the girl who couldn’t handle it more.”
He sat down on the step beside you. He didn't touch you, but he was close enough that you could feel his warmth. It took every fibre of determination in your body not to lean closer to him. It felt as though all your bones were screaming for him. "I thought I was doing the right thing..." he said quietly. "You deserved-"
"Don't." You cut him off, voice a bit sharper than you meant for it to be. "Don't fucking say that. You don't get to decide what I deserve and then walk away like it's noble."
"I never said it was noble. I was scared."
"Scared of what?" You finally brought yourself to search his eyes. Your stomach fluttered with that familiar feeling, and it made you ache. Your gaze flickered down to the little freckle on the tip of his nose.
"Of ruining things...ruining you." His voice cracked slightly. "Of needing you too much and you waking up one day and realizing you were stuck carrying me."
“I never felt stuck.”
“I did.”
"What the fuck does that mean?" That hit you harder than any insult could. "You felt stuck? With me?"
“You don’t get it,” he continued, words tumbling now like they’d been waiting to spill. “When I looked at you, I saw everything good in my life. And I kept thinking—if I mess this up, if I relapse, if I spiral—she’s going down with me. And I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you decided for me,” you whispered.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
"You hurt me, Gee." The nickname hung thick in the air. "And I- I hate not having any say in this! I fucking love you, and I never -- never said I-" Your voice broke.
Silence again. Deafening. The music inside swelled briefly as someone opened a window, then faded.
“She’s not…” he started, then hesitated. “She’s not you."
“Then why are you with her?”
He looked down at his hands. “Because she doesn’t know me like you do.”
“What?"
“She doesn’t see the worst parts. I get to just… be normal.”
You stared at him. “You were normal with me. You were...just Gerard.”
“No, I was real with you.”
You glanced down at your hand. Your cigarette had burned almost to the filter. You hadn’t noticed. "That's all I ever wanted...just you. Just you...all of it. The bad, the messy, the- god damn it, Gee." Tears finally pushed their way to your eyes.
He studied your face like he was trying to memorize it - just like he used to do whenever he thought you weren't looking.
“I miss you,” he admitted, voice barely audible.
"That's not fair, Gee."
"I know, sweetheart."
Your heart betrayed you immediately, stuttering, leaping, reaching.
“Are you happy?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.
"Truthfully?" He paused. "No."
"Then why?"
"I can't...I can't go back on it now, I guess..." He looked like he was about to cry.
"Why not?"
"Because if I do, then that means I was wrong, and I hurt you for no good reason."
"You were...you did." You wanted to reach out for him, shake him, beg him - anything.
A shaky laugh left him, almost a sob. "She's not my girlfriend." He blurted it out like he couldn't hold it in anymore.
You stared at him for a moment, blinking a few times as you processed. "What?"
“We’re not— I’m not with her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been hiding behind that because it’s easier to look like an asshole who moved on than the guy who’s still in love with his ex and doesn’t know how to fix what he broke.” He stopped short. "God, this is embarrassing as hell...She's...she's some like groupie, I guess...saw the show a couple weeks back and appraoched me. I played into it. I just needed a- needed a distraction or a- I don't fucking know."
You continued to stare at him, lips parting slightly as he spoke.
“She’s just… there,” he continued. “She doesn’t ask for much. She doesn’t know the worst parts. She laughs at my jokes and doesn’t look at me like she’s trying to see through me.”
The porch light flickered above you again.
“I thought if I walked away first,” he said, quieter now, “then I’d be the one in control. If I ruined it on my own terms, it wouldn’t be you waking up one day realizing you deserved someone less fucked up.”
“I never wanted anything...anyone else."
“I know that now.”
You shook your head. “No, you knew that then. You just didn’t believe it.”
“I’ve missed you every day,” he says.
“That’s not fair.”
“I know. You said that."
“You don’t get to say that. You broke up with me.” You noticed him step closer, and your breath hitched.
“I wake up and reach for you. I hear something stupid and think I need to text you. I still keep your favorite blanket on my bed in your spot. I don’t know how to stop loving you.”
That did it. Your heart stuttered violently in your chest.
“Then don’t,” you whispered.
“You still love me?” he asked, barely audible.
You let out an exasperated laugh. “I wouldn’t be sitting on these steps if I didn’t.”
“After everything?”
“You don’t get to decide when I stop.” You said quietly. You noticed his hand twitch like he wanted to reach out for you. Then he did. He moved before he could overthink it, hands coming up to cup your face like he’s terrified you’ll disappear. His palms are cold, and your breath caught so sharply it almost hurt. "Gee..."
"Don't...don't you fucking dare take any of that back. Please." He begged.
"Never."
That broke him. He kissed you quickly and desperately, like he was starving for it. The kiss wasn't hesitant at all. It was messy and clumsy and full of pure need. You dropped the burnt-out butt of your cigarette on the concrete and tangled your hands up in his hair, tugging lightly and pulling him closer. His hands moved to your waist and then to the back of your thighs, sliding slightly under the edge of your short skirt. He made that small, broken sound in the back of his throat that you remembered all too well.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathed heavily between kisses, not able to finish a full sentence without pressing his lips against yours again.
“I know.” Your hands dropped and grabbed at the neck of his hoodie. His thumbs brushed under your eyes, catching tears you hadn't realized had fallen. “You don’t get to run again...please promise me..."
“I won’t.” There’s no hesitation in it now. “If I spiral, we deal with it. If I get scared, I tell you. I don’t push you out."
“What about her?” you asked quietly.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said immediately. “There’s nothing to end. I never promised her anything. I was just… hiding.”
"Okay."
"But right now, we need to ditch this fuckass party. What do you say?"
"Yeah?" You smiled. This all felt too ephemeral, like you'd wake up and he'd be gone.
He threaded his fingers through yours, and he pulled you with him back through the door. Mikey spotted him immediately. "Heyyy Gee, your girl left...she seemed pissed."
"She's not my-" Gerard began to protest, but was cut off by Mikey's eyes flickering down to where Gerard was still holding your hand.
"What the fuck?" Mikey looked over at you.
"We worked things out," Gerard said shortly, feeling like doing anything but discussing this with Mikey right now.
"I...see that..." Mikey looked like he was short-circuiting. "Just..." he leaned into Gerard like that made it so you couldn't hear what he said. "Don't hurt her again."
"Gonna try my damndest, Mikes." Gerard nodded impatiently and pulled you through the people to the basement door. You giggled. You felt like you were a teenager sneaking down to his room with him again. As soon as you were downstairs, his lips were on yours again. You broke the kiss because you were smiling too hard. "What?" He looked down at you with a smile so sweet it broke your heart all over again.
"Nothing...I just...I can't believe..." I buried my face in his shoulder with a groan.
"Yeah...god, I'm stupid, why did I ever let you go?" Gerard brushed your hair out of your face tenderly.
"I don't know, but you better never fucking do it again." You smiled and kissed him again, pulling him down onto his bed. Sure enough, you both fell on top of your favorite, fuzzy Star Wars blanket. God, you loved him. He flipped you both over without disconnecting your lips and pulled you to straddle his lap. His hands were everywhere - your thighs, your hips, your waist, your ass, tangled up in your hair... He kissed you like he needed you more than air. In that moment, he did. "Gee...need you..." Before you knew it, you were grinding your hips down into him desperately.
"Sugar...You can't- fuck-" he sucked a breath in through his teeth. "You keep doing that and m'gonna cum before you can get me out of my pants..."
You didn't need a further invitation. You'd missed him so bad; you needed him as close as you could get him, or you worried you might explode. Your hands slid up and down his torso, fumbling for his belt desperately. He pulled off your shirt and planted kisses all along your neck, stopping briefly to suck at your collarbone before continuing lower. You felt his hands snake around your sides to unhook your bra, tossing it aside. He moaned just at the sight of you.
"God, sweetheart..." he admired you for a few moments before he couldn't take not kissing you any longer. He palmed at one of your breasts as he latched onto the other, swirling his warm tongue around the bud of your flushed chest. You held the back of his head and ground down on his lap again, yelping as he gently bit down on your nipple.
"Fuck," You let out a breathy curse and nuzzled your face in the top of his head. He must have just showered before the party; the smell of his shampoo was intoxicating after being away from him for so long. He switched sides and bit down harder, causing you to arch your back into him. "Gee...Gee...need you...now."
Usually, he would've teased you, made you be patient, but he'd been dreaming of this for too long, missing you for too long to even attempt to take it slow. "Yeah, yeah..sure thing, sugar." You helped him wriggle out of his pants as he roughly pushed your skirt up around your waist and hooked your panties to the side, rubbing a few rough circles against your clit and kissing you. The kiss intensified again, and he pushed you over onto your back, hovering over you as he kissed whatever skin his lips found first.
He slowly dragged his aching, velvety head along your slick, catching it on your clit a few times and eliciting the filthiest sounds from you both. He stroked himself a few times as he lined himself up at your entrance. "Tell me if it's too much..." Even after years of this, he never failed to say that and check in with you.
"Yes, I will...just please-" he didn't give you the chance to finish your sentence before he pressed himself into you. Your hands grasped his back as he slowly slid into you, warm and hard. It really hadn't been that long in the grand scheme of things, but feeling his familiar fullness made the time apart feel even emptier.
He bottomed out with a low groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it softly. "There we go, sugar...missed you so bad...missed this..." he started thrusting slowly, but quickly sped up, like he couldn't get enough.
"Ohh fuck, Gee...." he wrapped your legs around his waist, hitting even deeper inside of you. "Yes...fuck...right there please...."
"Feels so...good- all mine, sweetheart...you're all mine." He pressed frantic kisses just under your ear.
You could already feel yourself getting close. Gerard was usually good, but he had never gotten you this close to the edge so quickly. You clenched around him, earning a low hiss as he dragged himself along your contracting walls. "Please don't stop...please, Gee." You felt tears welling in your eyes from being so desperately close to the edge.
"Oh, m'not fuckin' stopping, sugar... It's okay, I've gotcha. I've gotcha...let go for me." His arm tightened around you, strong and grounding. His other hand moved to reach down and rub clumsy circles against your clit. The combination of sensations made your legs shake and you desperately wrapped them tighter around him.
"Gee, I'm so close I'm gonna-" Your orgasm crashed over you in a violent wave, as his hips stuttered against yours, fucking you through your release.
"That's my girl..." he grunted out breathlessly between the rocks of his hips. You pulsed around him as he came quickly after, his warmth spreading through your body and down your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, holding you as you both basked in your post-orgasm daze, his hips still uncontrollably pressing forward every so often like they had a mind of their own, seeking friction. "I love you," he finally said, quietly, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.
"I love you." You smiled, brushing his hair back from his face, now damp with sweat. He smiled at that too.
"This almost doesn't feel real." He admitted. "Being back here...with you- like- like this."
"Yeah, I understand that feeling."
"Will you stay tonight? Please?" He asked, sitting up just enough to look you in the eyes.
ARHFGHGBH i COMPLETELY forgot I sent that ray ask in so imagine my surprise when I open Tumblr this morning to that wonderful, wonderful fic!! Thank you so much ohhh my god it was soooo good,, I love the little wingman frank sideplot lol!!
Omg thank you, lovely!!!
I’m so glad you liked it! I love incorporating a little wingman side plot into my fics lol!! Since the whole band is really close I totally think they’d call each other out and help ‘em get a baddie :)
Hihi!! Fic idea!! 2008!ray absolutely pining over touring crew!reader & is soooo desperate for them,, all the while reader is oblivious to the way that man is basically salivating over them sighhh 🤤🤤
One day reader decides to give him a peck on the lips because they've been having the hots for him and ray sort of loses it!! 😖😖
OH PLEASE I ADORE THIS!!! Ray lovers unite!!
Must Be Dreaming
Content: 2008 Ray Toro x crew reader, obnoxious levels of pining, oral male receiving, praise. NSFW bit isn't until the veryyy end, so you can read everything up to it and still get the full story!
Word Count: 3,087
A/N: I fully believe Ray would in no world let the reader take care of him first / without reciprocation, but the ask used gender neutral terms, so I wanted to keep this one inclusive to all my lovely readers so everyone can get some Ray action ;) <3
The thing about Ray Toro is that he is bad at hiding things.
Like, catastrophically bad.
Everyone else on the tour seems to notice it before you do—the way his eyes follow you when you pass through the narrow aisle in the bus with a clipboard tucked under your arm, the way he suddenly forgets how to tune his guitar when you lean over his shoulder to ask if he needs anything.
Ray, meanwhile, is suffering.
He sits there, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, trying so hard not to stare at you like you’re the only solid thing in a world that’s constantly in motion. You smell like coffee and vanilla and something clean—laundry detergent, maybe? It drives him insane.
You're basically a part of the band's ecosystem at this point, and Ray noticed it all. He knew how you took your coffee (too sweet) and the fact that you always preferred to sit cross-legged on the floor rather than take the last empty chair. He knew the way you'd pull your hair back while unloading gear and the way you absentmindedly hummed while taping the setlist to the stage had inspired a guitar riff or two that sounded suspiciously like longing. He had promptly deleted them because get a grip, dude.
You were unloading gear for a show when you got to Ray's guitar case. You figured you'd ask him where he wanted it since the backstage area at this venue was a little different than what you were accustomed to. "Hey, Ray where-"
He turned around quickly at the sound of your voice and choked on the water he was drinking, coughing violently. His cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink when he saw the tiny pair of shorts you were wearing. It was an especially hot May in Texas, so you were merely doing what was necessary to survive all of the physical labor in the heat, but to Ray it was basically a death threat. "Oh-uh hi sorry...wrong pipe...What's up?"
Gerard, who was sketching quietly over in the corner, looked up with a bit of a smirk on his face and then returned to his sketchbook. You didn't notice, but Ray did, and his blush deepened.
"Uh, sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to know where you wanted me to put your guitar," you smiled at him reassuringly.
"Oh, uhm...you can leave it right here, I-uh gotta tune it still so I can just do that right now." He nodded, trying to recap his waterbottle but fumbling the cap in his hands. The cap rolled across the floor and Ray muttered a string of curses under his breath as you bent down to pick it up. You held it out to him in your palm and he took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing yours a bit too gently. He wanted to scream. Your hair was pulled back like it always was when you were running around backstage and your face was lightly glistening with little beads of sweat from hauling around the heavy equipment.
"Thanks," his voice cracked in a way that made him want to lie down on the concrete floor and perish. He looked at the bottle cap in his palm like it had personally betrayed him as he screwed it back onto the water bottle.
"Yeah, you're welcome," you replied easily, then you laughed. "Wasn't aware the job description included chasing around Ray Toro's water bottle caps."
He laughed too. He always laughed at your jokes. His eyes grazed over your face again. You were standing close enough still that he could see the little freckles on your face that he had mapped out countless times in his mind. Your eyelashes were clumped together, dark with leftover mascara and sweat. He wondered briefly what it would be like to brush over them with his thumb.
"Uh, yeah, big day huh?" He said quickly, trying to think of something quickly to distract himself from how hard his heart was beating in his chest. That was stupid- it was always a big day on tour.
You didn't seem to mind the stupid question and he loved you all the more for it. "Yeah, this venue is kinda wild. It's like a maze backstage."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, the curls framing his face bobbing lightly as he nodded, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. "I got lost earlier, ended up at a janitor's closet?"
You smile at that and Ray's chest tightens.
Across the room, Frank had walked in and was standing by Gerard. He was watching the conversation with an expression reminiscent of someone watching a slow-motion car crash. You eventually move on. Of course you do. You’re good at your job and the world does not revolve around Ray Toro’s inability to cope with his feelings. The second you’re gone, Ray slumped forward, resting his forehead against the neck of his guitar.
“Get it together,” he whispered to himself. “Please.”
He did not get it together.
The rest of the day was a blur of stolen glances and almost-conversations. You passed him bottles of water, brushed past him in tight hallways, called his name once to ask if he was ready for soundcheck, and each time it felt like too much and not enough all at once.
During the show, he played like his life depended on it, pouring everything he doesn't say into the strings of his guitar. Every time he looked out, his eyes found you at the edge of the stage. He watched you like you were an anchor -- focused, grounding. Like you were proof that all of this was real.
The hours after the show were a blur of moving pieces, cleaning up and loading gear back into the bus. He didn't see much of you, just a glance every so often. The adrenaline of the show crashed hard as he slumped in the bus with exhaustion. He sat with his forehead resting on his knees, which were pulled close to his chest. He llooked up and you were climbing into the bus. He watched you like he always did. Even if it made him feel like a bit of a creep sometimes, he couldn't help it.
This time though, you caught him. Your eyes met. Your gaze held. He felt something shift. Then you were walking over to him. He desperately fought down the panic as you knelt in front of him. "Hey," you stopped for a moment, waiting for him to look at you. "You okay? You've been...weird today."
He paused. Truth was, he was not okay at all. He was near driving himself insane. Or well, you were near driving him insane. "Just tired. It was a long day." He stopped for a second. His great excuse had been it was a long day? He felt bad for complaining to you about the day being exhausting. You had hauled all their shit out and packed it back up. "I mean, sorry you know that obviously...you work harder than any of our sorry asses do."
You smiled. You had toured with other bands in the past and it was not all that common for the artists to actually appreciate and respect the work you did. But to Ray, it never went unnoticed. You often found little thank-you notes in your bags, punctuated with a hell of a lot of smiley faces. They were never signed, but you always recognized his handwriting instantly. "Thank you...and I get it. It's a lot. I just wanted to check on you."
"You're always doing that," he mumbles, his voice raspy and low, the kind of sound that makes your stomach do a weird, fluttering somersault. "Noticing stuff...I think I’m being all chill and then you—you come over and look at me like you can see the literal gears grinding in my head." He laughs -- a short, nervous thing that catches in his throat. "I'm fine, really. just...you’re a lot, sometimes. In a good way...like, a really good way. It's just complex, like a piece when you have to think about it for days just to understand how all the parts fit together-" He was suddenly aware of his rambling. He could see the faint smirk on your face, and it made him want to melt through the floors of the bus. He's so hopelessly in love with you that it feels like a physical weight in his chest.
"Ray," you said plainly. "Take a deep breath."
Your own mind was spinning, trying to gauge the level of professionalism here. You trusted Frank, who had pulled you aside to talk earlier, but if he was messing with you, this could be detrimental. Finally, you gave in to your internal struggle. You leaned in. It wasn't some dramatic, cinematic sweep, but moreso just a slight tilt of your head, pressing your lips to his in a quick, innocent peck. It lasted only a second...maybe even less. But for Ray? Total system failure.
His brain practically rebooted. His fidgety hands froze mid-air. He suddenly couldn't breathe. His lips felt like a live wire, sparks jumping under his skin and spreading across his body.
You pulled back an inch, searching his eyes, wide in shock. You felt a flush creeping up your own neck. "Ray? I'm sorry was that weird? Because Frank told me I should and I've been wanting to to that since Portland..."
Ray's mouth opened and then closed. He looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth, but no sound came out. "Portland?" he finally forced the sound out, his voice higher than usual. "Since- you since Portland?" Instead of doing something cool in response, he clapped his hands over his own mouth, eyes wide still (he could have kicked himself later for responding like this).
"Ray?" You asked, a little laugh escaping you as you noticed his genuine shock.
He let out a muffled, strangled noise into his palms, his shoulders shaking. "I was gonna- I literally thought I was gonna die I- I thought I was being so creepy, watching you, wanting you -- Portland? Really? Frank?"
You laughed. "Yes really. But I didn't pick up on it, not really. Frank pulled me aside today and told me he couldn't stand it anymore and to 'just fucking kiss him already.'"
Ray half-sighed, half-laughed, and leaned in until his forehead was against yours. His curls spilled around your face, enveloping you in the scent of hairspray, sweat, and him. "Can you...can you do that again?" He asked, voice barely a whisper. "Just so I know I didn't pass out on stage and dream all of this?"
You don't even have to be asked twice, leaning back in. But this time, the kiss is slower, steadier, your hand reaching up to cup his jaw. His hands, still trembling, found your waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of your t-shirt like he was trying to anchor himself. When you go to pull away, he pulls you back in, not ready to let go yet.
"Now I feel like I'm actually going to pass out."
You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder. He melted, arms wrapping around you properly now, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He was still shaking from the adrenaline and the sheer relief of it all.
"You have no idea," he muttered into your skin. "I was so- I was so convinced you thought I was weird. I've been literally drooling over you since like the first week of tour. "Poor Frank has had to listen to me whine about how pretty you are for like thousands of miles."
"Really?" You felt his hands wandering up your sides.
"Yeah, genuinely." He smiled down at you, now trying to ignore the fact that you were kneeling between his legs. He tried to suppress the very graphic thoughts that began running through his head. "Uh, you wanna sit up here?" He patted the bunk in a desperate attempt to get you off the floor.
You sensed the shift in his facial expression, and a smile spread across your face. "No, I like sitting on the floor better anyway."
"I know," he replied, maybe a little too quickly.
You were a little surprised. You'd caught him watching you countless times, but for some reason, you'd never realized that he remembered details about you. You rested your arms on his thighs, leaning closer. He looked like he wanted to kiss you until he couldn't breathe. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the fact that his wandering thoughts had affected him so physically. "You okay?" You asked. You could tell that he was trying to be a gentleman, trying to hold himself together. No, trying to hold himself back.
"Y-yeah," his voice betrayed him. If you kept looking up at him like this, his self-restraint was going to crack and crumble into a million pieces. His gaze flicked to your lips. He so badly wanted them against his again. Hell, he wanted them everywhere. You kissed him gently, like you had the first time. That did it. He pulled you in as close as he could and kissed you hungrily, desperately. His teeth gently tugged at your bottom lip, followed quickly by his tongue running across it. He was losing it. He needed you so badly. His hands tangled up in your hair as you kissed him.
His head spun as he felt your hand palming at his crotch. "Fuck- you can't..."
"Do you not want me to?" you asked.
"No, no I want you to. You have no idea how bad I want you to."
"Alright, then don't stop yourself," you muttered against his lips as you went in for another kiss, palming harder at the bulge in his pants. He let out a low moan against your lips before he could stop himself. Any remaining semblance of self-control snapped and he pulled you onto his lap, grinding roughly against you.
"...been wanting this for so long..." he muttered against your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Just wanna make you feel good...you work so hard..."
"No no...I'm gonna take care of you," You smiled, pressing a kiss to his nose.
"What? No no please I wanna-"
Before he knew it, you were sliding off his lap back between his knees and unbuckling his pants. He watched you through heavily lidded eyes. His face was flushed the most beautiful shade of pink and his curls were still stuck to his forehead in little ringlets. You pulled him out of his underwear and cautiously licked his tip, testing the waters. He was already leaking so much precum just from kissing you. His head fell back against the top bunk, hand on the back of your head. He wasn't grabbing your hair (yet), but his strong hand was steadying, encouraging... gentle. The pure intimacy of the gesture made your chest ache. He was so down bad. How had you never realized it before? You reached up to give him another gentle kiss before you took him in your mouth. He was too big to handle with just your mouth. You already had to test the limits of how far you could unhinge your jaw to accommodate his girth. Your right hand stroked what you couldn't fit while your left rested on his thigh to steady yourself. You slowly sank down onto him and paused for just a moment before beginning to bob your head. He let out a strangled groan, stroking your hair lightly with the hand that cradled your head.
"Fuck...feels so good...that's it, sweetheart..."
You suppressed a smile and swirled your tongue around the tip, speeding up your hand before slipping him back into your mouth.
"So good...so good for me..." he gazed down at you with the most adoring look of disbelief you had ever seen. He had always loved watching you, but he'd never imagined he'd watch you like this.
You sped up your movements, testing your limits as you took him deeper and harder. He was a flustered, moaning mess as his hand gradually found its way woven into your hair. He wasn't pulling harshly, just enough to ground himself. This only encouraged you further.
"So pretty...doing so well..." he could hardly get words out through the hazy bliss of pleasure at this point, but he groaned out praises as best he could. He knew there was no way he'd last much longer, but he desperately tried to suppress the growing, fiery sensation. He was convinced that this moment was fleeting, and the moment it was over, you'd vanish from his hand. At the same time, he was aching for relief, and this was everything he'd ever hoped it would be and so much more. He started lightly thrusting his hips to meet your strokes. Feeling him start twitching in your mouth, you doubled down on your efforts, moaning around him as you sucked. Your eyes met his. This undid him completely.
"I'm close I'm gonna- holy shit! Fuck!" You felt the warmth spread down your throat as his hands tightened in your hair, eliciting a moan from you. The added sensation of the vibrations around him as he rode out his orgasm caused a sharp cry to tear out of his throat, followed by another string of praises and curses. He leaned back, relaxing, his chest heaving as he scrambled for breath. You released him from your mouth and helped him tuck himself back into his pants gently. Before you could say anything, he was pulling you onto his lap and kissing you softly all over your face, fingers heading for your waistband.
The door to the bus slid open, and the rest of the guys filed in, laughing and pushing each other. Luckily, you and Ray were both dressed, but the sight of the two of you, flushed, with you on his lap and your hair sticking up in all directions, tipped them off. They paused for a moment, mouths agape. Frank was the first to recover.
"Thank fuck!! We're finally freed from the yearning!" He jumped up and down like a little kid in a candy store. Ray buried his face in the crook of your neck with a small sigh.
"Yeah, yeah, Frank. You're a free man." You laughed, brushing Ray's hair back softly.
