Delaney/Neon - 26 - She/They This is an emo trinity blog. Requests are Closed. Headcannons are closed. Main: our7elevenromance Ao3: TeddyBearDoctors Insta: neontoxicity_
Can you do a Gerard x reader smut? :) like the time he was at that one awards show (Can't remember) where reader possibly tries to conceal that gee trys to like finger her under her dress or something? It sounds wierd ik then it's like rough smut when they get back maybe??
Word count: 2,438
A/N: I'm but sure which awards show this was referencing but i used 2005 vmas Gerard :)
--
Your eyes are fixed on the man speaking into the microphone, his black suit the same black suit almost every man wears to these events. He's giving thanks to his mother, hands holding a little statue of an astronaut. You're a few rows back, the audience is dark and mostly quiet, celebrities seated in black movie theater-like seating. Gerard is on your left and Ray is on your right, he's leaning towards Mikey and seems to be engaged in a conversation with the other Way brother. You're trying to focus on the speech, but your attention is entirely on Gerard's hand on your thigh, his fingers brushing the hem of your dress.
You had stared at yourself in the mirror for way too long before leaving that morning, questioning if the dress was too short. It wasn't flashy, it was black to match Gerard's entirely black suit, but you know the length would draw attention. You swear Gerard started drooling at the sight of you. He had his arm around your waist, keeping you glued to his side, since you stepped onto the red carpet.
He just can't seem to keep his hands to himself, and it's so distracting. His fingers brush your inner thigh, you can already feel the want pool between your legs at the gentle touch. Your skin feels hot, your heart pounding in your chest, and you're using all your power to keep your eyes trained ahead of you. His fingers slide between your thighs, urging them apart, and you comply, spreading your legs just enough for him to brush along the front of your panties.
Your breath hitches just as the audience erupts into applause. The man exits the stage, waving as he goes, and the host steps back up to the microphone, you aren't listening to him speak but you see his mouth moving. Gerard leans into your space and you finally allow yourself to look at him, his hazel eyes dark and ringed in eyeliner. He's gorgeous, his dark hair a contrast against his pale skin, his dark suit against his black button up hugs his body perfectly. He opted not to wear a tie and it suits him, formal but not a stiff.
“Can you be quiet, sweetheart?” His voice is barely audible but it makes you squirm.
You nod and he holds your gaze for a moment before he smiles and turns his attention back to the stage. You stare at his profile for a moment, mind filled with thoughts of kissing and biting his neck, and then you blush and cast your eyes away. You think the host is telling a joke but his voice feels a million miles away, the entire world blurring as you feel entirely focused on Gerard's fingers as they move the fabric that was covering your wetness to the side. You feel exposed, knowing that if anyone was paying attention the only thing hiding your pussy from their eyes is Gerard's hand. You feel your skin flush down your neck, but you don't stop him.
You feel his fingers slide between your folds, avoiding your clit like he just wants to tease you. He is always such a tease. You play with your bottom lip with your teeth as Gerard plays with you. His touch is gentle but firm, encircling your entrance and your clit, spreading around your wetness and never touching you where you already desperately want him.
The anxiety of getting caught disolves into excitement, the adrenaline of doing something wrong mixing with the pleasure building in your core. You glance at Gerard, seeing him lick his lips as two of his fingers push into you, a gasp threatening to escape your lips but you hold back. You need to be quiet, he wants you to be quiet.
You can feel his fingers spreading you open, sliding in and out, drawing pleasure steadily through your body. He crooks his fingers, brushing the sensitive spot inside you, and you bite your lip to keep quiet, a whine just behind your teeth. Your legs shake and you want to push into his hand, get more of him, more more please…
He looks unaffected, watching the stage like he isn't finger fucking you right now. He looks beautiful as he pretends to ignore you and you think you could stare at his profile forever. You know you look more affected by his attention, your skin flushed, lips bitten from holding back moans. You move one of your hands to the back of his neck, twisting your fingers in his hair, and watch his lips part in a soundless gasp. You smile briefly, admiring his pink lips and wishing you could kiss him.
You think they are announcing a winner of another category but you can't hear the host, blood roaring in your ears, pleasure popping behind your eyes and under your skin. Your breathing is labored, fingers tightening in his hair, as Gerard's fingers continue to pump in and out of you, crooking and brushing your walls with each slide. You squirm in your seat, desperate for more, the pleasure mounting just out of reach.
Gerard's fingers move faster, deeper, and you feel desperate. The moans building in your throat are vying to escape, pleasure clawing its way out of you. You squirm and whine, low and quiet but you know he hears you because the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Gee,” you whisper his name, needing him to know you're going to break and you can't be quiet anymore. You need him to stop before you draw attention, but you can't ask him to stop, don't want him to stop touching you.
His movements don't stop, drawing you tighter and tighter until you break apart. The audience arupts into applause, rising to their feet, just as you break your silence and cry out. Your cries are drowned out by the slapping of palms and the music rising on the speakers and you let yourself buck and whimper, knowing that no one is paying attention to you. No one but Gerard, who is now looking at you and smiling softly, his eyes sparkling, as he coaxes you back down from your orgasm.
Your breathing settles as his fingers slip from you, and you smile at him in disbelief. You almost laugh but he captures your lips with his before you can, your mind spinning with lust as he licks his way into your mouth. You part, breathless, just as the audience quiets down and returns to their seats.
“You're such a good girl. ” His eyes are dark and you feel want pool between your legs.
This awards show can't end soon enough.
---
And it doesn't, it's hours before the event ends. Gerard spends the entire time teasing you, his fingertips brushing along your inner thigh, too close but not close enough. You're on edge, knowing what's to come and feeling need pulse between your legs. Gerard leans into your space on occasion, to kiss your jaw, breathe you in, and whisper dirty promises in your ear. You can't think, mind foggy with lust, desperate to get home and undress the tease of a lead singer beside you.
After the event its pictures and mingling and Gerard casually excusing you both from the after party. He's so calm, collected, you'd think he was unaffected by your desire but you know better. He's a pro at this, years of the two of you playing this game, he can pretend now but once you're alone he'll show you just how badly he wants you.
And oh does he. The moment the door to your hotel room is closed he's on you, grabbing at your waist and your hips and your ass, pulling you into him and kissing you till you can't breathe. His body feels perfect against yours, soft and warm and slotted together like puzzle pieces. He licks into your mouth and you play along, your tongues sliding along one another till your toes curl.
You're pulling at his jacket and he shrugs it off, backing you towards the bed as more clothes fall to the floor. By the time the backs of your thighs hit the mattress he has you down to your soaked panties and he's bare chested. He pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed and then he's kneeling between your thighs. He slowly pulls down your panties, exposing you to him and you flush despite how many times you've been in this exact position with him before.
“Fuck baby,” you whimper at the sight of him, big hazel eyes and kisses bitten lips.
He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder and you lean back on your elbows, breath hitching as his lips make contact with your inner thigh. He leaves open mouthed kisses up your thigh before sucking hard near where your thigh meets your pussy. You whine, the spot sensitive, and you know he's leaving a dark hickey for you to admire later. His mouth moves along, kissing softly as his lips meet your aching sex.
He's not teasing anymore, giving you exactly what you want. He licks up and down along your slit before he focuses on your clit. His tongue flattens to apply pressure and you're moaning his name when you feel his fingers push into you and you buck into him. He pumps his fingers slow and deep while he sucks and licks at your clit, quickly drawing you closer and closer to orgasm. You whine and squirm, fisting your hands in his dark hair. He moans into you, the vibrations stimulating your clit beautifully.
“Gerard!” You cry out and you feel him hum.
You can hear how wet you are, the slide of his fingers in and out of you only spreading your wetness. You can feel it dripping down your thighs, the pleasure mounting and you feel like a rubberband pulled too tight. You squirm beneath him and he digs his fingers into your ass, pulling you closer like he wants to bury his face in your pussy. His tongue, his mouth, his fingers, it's all too much and you cry out, arching into him as you cum around his fingers. He keeps licking and finger fucking you through your orgasm, humming in satisfaction as you come back down.
You collapse back on the bed, panting and watching Gerard look up from between your legs. He smiles softly and you return it, knowing how much love must be shining in your eyes.
“You're so fucking gorgeous.” He breathes and you blush.
You watch as he stands and starts to undo his suit pants, revealing his very hard cock. You bite your lip as he gives himself a few strokes, watching you squirm on the bed. You scoot further up the bed and he follows you, moving between your hips and capturing your mouth in his. His lips are wet and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Something possessive curls in your gut and you arch your hips into his, gasping as you make contact with his length.
“I’ll never get enough of you.” He groans into your mouth and you whine.
He grinds his hips down into you, his cock sliding between your folds. You're wet and aching for him, still sensitive, and you can't help how desperate you feel. You arch and whine and beg and he smirks at you.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, voice rough and dripping with lust.
“You,” you whine and he hums.
“What do you want from me?” You hate him for making you beg but it also drives you mad, you can feel your heart beat pulsing between your legs.
“I need you to fuck me!” You cry, trying to shift your hips to get him where you want him.
He kisses you, licking into your mouth and drawing moans from your lips. You feel him shift and then he's guiding his cock to your entrance, pushing in slowly at first, stretching you beautifully. You moan loudly as he fills you, his eyes rolling back with a groan and he buries himself to the hilt. He starts to fuck you, sliding out and then pushing back in hard and your entire body is humming in pleasure. He keeps fucking you, hard and deep, his lips moving to bite at your jaw and your neck.
“Fuck,” he groans, “you feel so fucking good, baby.”
You whimper at his words, trying to move your hips to match his rhythm but you can't focus. The pleasure is building too quickly, your brain a mess of lust and need and you claw at his back. You beg him not to stop, moaning and gasping and telling him how amazing he feels. He has lost all his control, barely pulling out before slamming back into you, his lips moving back to yours.
You can feel him start to lose his rhythm, just a desperate search for pleasure. Your entire body feels electric, begging for release. You twist your fingers in his hair and feel him groan into your mouth. And then you snap, clenching around him and arching your body into his. You feel his fingers dig into your hips with the hand not holding himself up. You want to see him but you can't help your eyes closing tight as pleasure overwhelms your senses. And then he's cumming inside you, gasping as his hips stutter and slow and he moans your name.
You both come back to reality still tangled together, him inside you, his face buried in your neck. You smile, running your fingers through his hair and feeling the sweat at his roots. He kisses your skin softly before he lifts himself back up to see you. You lock eyes and you both smile, your heart feels full at the sight. You reach up and cup his face, brushing your thumb along his kiss-swollen lips.
“I love you.” You say it softly and his eyes sparkle.
“I love you too, Y/N.” And he kisses you, gentle but firm and you have never felt so connected to someone before.
He pulls out of you and then you both adjust on the bed so you're snuggled together, your head on his chest. You toss your leg over his, feeling content and sated. You feel his breathing even out and you know he's falling asleep, it was a long day. You lift your head to look at him, his eyes are closed and he looks beautiful. His dark hair is messy and he hadn't taken off his eyeliner so it's smudged and worn off. You feel your chest tighten with love, knowing you'd happily spend forever with him.
Prompt: Requested by Anonymous “ Could you do one where y/n is on the set for The Ghost of You MV and she really adores Gerard so much and he catches on this so he brought her to the dressing room and there he fingers her as his "reward" for admiring him (lots of dirty talk pls!) 😁”
Word Count: 1,913
Pairing: Gerard x Reader
--
You're standing on the sidelines with the rest of the crew, watching the band play out a scene of their new music video. They are dressed as soldiers going to war, trudging along the beach as imaginary gun fire rains down on them. It's been a few days of this, various scenes and costumes, and you have spent the entire time drooling over Gerard Way. You can't seem to help it, he looks gorgeous in the army green uniforms, his dark hair brushed back to expose his pale face and sparkling hazel eyes.
You've been doing makeup for the band and extras, you're an amazing artist and very professional until Gerard sits in your chair. Then, you can't seem to control yourself, gushing about how stunning he looks, how you admire the creative direction he takes, and how soft his skin is. It's embarrassing, your hands shake as you apply foundation and you know your face is bright red as you try and fail to hold your tongue.
It's been like this since you first saw him, a bumbling, blushing, school girl crush. You feel so silly, you're not a teenager but the butterflies and inability to think in his presence has you feeling so high school. And Gerard has obviously noticed, he throws winks at you when he catches you staring and seems to be making up any excuse to touch you. He'll wrap his arm around your waist as he leans into your space, pretending to look at the makeup brushes you're organizing. Or he'll come up behind you and you'll feel his breath on your neck and his fingers will barely touch your hip like he wants to grab hold but stops himself, and he'll ask you something pointless like the time and your voice will shake as you answer and then he's gone.
The scene finishes and there is another scene to shoot but a break is called for. You watch the guys chat and Gerard laughs and you think your heart skips a beat, he looks so beautiful when he laughs. He catches you looking at him and he smirks at you, this playful look in his eyes, and you rush away quickly. You trip over your own feet on the way to the makeup trailer, closing the door behind you and trying to breathe. Why is he toying with you like this? He must know his teasing is driving you mad.
You lean back against the makeup desk, the heels of your hands pressing into the cold, white, surface. You close your eyes and try to breathe but all you can think about is that cocky little smirk! He must enjoy your attention, he doesn't shy away but instead revels in it! You almost laugh at yourself, Gerard Way enjoying your bumbling, blushing, attention? What a silly fantasy, he probably teases you just for a laugh.
The door to the trailer opens then and you jump at the sound, watching as Gerard let's the door close behind him.
“Hi,” your face feels hot, can he tell you were thinking about him?
“Hi.” He smiles and walks into the small space, looking around before his eyes settle on you. “I've noticed you watching me.”
Oh fuck.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!” You quickly apologize but he doesn't seem bothered, he just steps closer to you, invading your space.
“Oh, don't apologize. I think it's,” he pauses and you feel like you can't breathe as his eyes look you up and down. “Sweet.” He finishes and you flush.
“Oh, um,” you try to think of something flirtatious or even just coherent to say but nothing comes and you just stare at him with wide eyes and way too much hope.
“Between the compliments and praise you shower me in while i sit in your chair, and the eye fucking you send my way on set-”
“What! No, I-”
“I think I owe you something in return, think of it like a reward for good behavior.”
Is this really happening?
He steps closer, his body almost touching yours. He smells like cigarettes and the ocean and you can feel the warmth of his body heat, feel his breath tickle your skin, feel his eyes watching you. The hair on your arms stands on end, electricity sparking along your skin, your lips burn with the desire to kiss him.
“Please, Y/N, let me show you how much I appreciate your attention.” He practically purrs and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling your blood pulse between your legs.
You find yourself nodding and he smiles, not the goofy grin he gives his bandmates but something dripping with charm and desire, his hazel eyes are dark and you feel like you could fall right into them. He closes the distance between you, his hands take your hips and pulls you against his own, his lips touching yours just enough to know the feeling. He pauses for a moment, perhaps giving you a chance to change your mind, before he finally kisses you. His lips are soft against yours, moving with yours in a way that almost feels sweet, gentle. One of his hands moves from your hip and under your shirt, settling on your back and pushing you firmly against him. Your skin feels hot where he's touching you, painfully aware of how his hands on your bare skin leaves your entire body burning with need.
He deepens the kiss then, his tongue pushing between your lips and you gasp. His tongue temps yours into playing, teasing each other, and you can't help the quiet moans you let out. You feel his hand in your hair, twisting around the roots, before he suddenly pulls your head to the side. It stings just a little and the pain only mixes with pleasure as he starts kissing your jaw and then down your neck. You feel him nip at your skin, playful, teasing bites, before covering them with open mouthed kisses. You whimper and try to push your hips into his, moaning when you feel his hard he's getting for you.
He stops the attention he was giving to your pulse point to speak, his breath hot on your neck.
“You sound beautiful when you moan for me.” And you whimper as he returns to lavishing your neck.
His words shoot straight to your core and you can't help but grind against him, only feeling yourself get wetter when you feel him groan against your skin. He pulls back just long enough to help you out of your clothes, and it feels unfair that he is still fully clothed but he doesn't let you take off his, instead guiding you to sit in the same makeup chair he was in this morning.
“You're really beautiful.” He says it softly, his eyes and fingers exploring your curves; your lips, down your neck, your waist and hips and your thighs. He guides one of your legs up, your heel on the chair, exposing yourself to him. He hums, bites at his lip, before leaning in. He has one hand on the chair by your head, his lips barely a breath away from yours.
“Don't be nervous,” his lips touch yours as he talks and you try to breathe but you can feel his other hand on your thigh, teasing you, so close to where you need him. “I'm going to make you feel as good as you make me feel.” Your breath catches.
He kisses you just as his fingers slide through your folds and you whimper into his mouth.
“So wet for me.” He purrs.
His fingers slide back and forth a few times, coating themselves in your juices, before he slips them inside you. It's just two but you feel them stretch you, feel him push them in all the way. He pulls his head back just enough to look into your eyes and you can't seem to look away, locked in his dark gaze. He pumps his fingers slowly before curling them inside you, his finger tips brushing your walls.
You try to keep eye contact as he continues to fuck you with his fingers but when he starts picking up the pace and pressing more firmly against that sensitve spot you can't help how your head falls back, and you certainly can't help the moans that follow. You writhe as you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you, the sounds of how wet you are filling the room. You can feel the pressure building, his fingers pushing along your walls as they move in and out. He presses his thumb against your clit as slides his fingers back in and you cry out.
You can feel him hovering above you, his body heat just inches from your bare skin, his lips and teeth nipping and tracing along your jaw and neck. Your mind is empty save for the pleasure building up in your body, becoming almost unbearable as Gerard pulls you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel how wet you are, dripping from your core and feeling slick on your thighs and your ass.
“You're being such a good girl for me,” Gerard's voice breaks through the haze and you tilt your head to find his mouth, crashing your lips together.
You can feel yourself getting closer and you can't help how loud you're getting, moaning and gasping into his mouth, begging him not to stop. It becomes too much and you squirm beneath him, your head falling back but only for a moment. Gerard grabs your jaw and gently brings your focus back to his face, his eyes dark and and his lips red and bitten from your kisses.
“Don't look away from me, I want to see you.” He keeps his eyes on yours and you feel your face burn but you can't stop, squirming and begging and moaning, but he keeps you looking at him. “I want to see you cum for me.” His voice is dripping with lust and this possessiveness that drives you mad.
You try to keep looking at him but it's too much, you can't move your head but your eyes screw shut as your hands dig into the armrests of the chair and your hips try to rise up and get more of Gerard's fingers. You feel him continue to tease your clit and crook his fingers inside you as you cum around him, pleading him not to stop as the pressure burns white across your mind. He kisses you as you come down, slipping his fingers from your dripping heat. You open your eyes slowly and Gerard is smiling at you, his eyes are sparkling and you fail to form words, mind still catching up with reality.
“You're absolutely, fucking, gorgeous.” His smile is lopsided as he looks you over and steps back. “I'll see you back on set, and hopefully you give me another reason to thank you.”
You watch as he starts heading to the door to the trailer. He looks back at you, slides his fingers into his mouth and winks at you before letting the door fall closed behind him. You think you almost pass out, still trying to catch your breath as you stare at the now empty space in front of you.
You're not sure you could ever stop gushing over him now, even if you wanted to.
Hey I’ve been checking ur account semi-regularly for the past few months and I’m so happy to see you’re back (even if it’s temporarily) and that you’re doing better. Seriously the comeback of the century. You’re an amazing writer and I’m so glad to see you’re doing well again.
Come back of the century? Really? 🖤🖤 you're too kind anon
This is really sweet tho really, thank you 🖤🖤🥰 ily
prompt: requested by anonymous “ Hey do you think maybe you could do a fanfiction where reader is Gerards daughter anf shes like 16 and he catches her making out and getting kinda steamy with her boyfriend lol weird request”
Word count: 821
Pairing: reader x boyfriend insert, parent!gerard
A/N: we love a good dose of dad!gee
--
You're home alone, finally, your dad having gone to get dinner with your uncles Mikey, Ray, and Frank. He's usually gone for hours when meeting up with them, they could spend all night talking about anything and everything. Which gives you plenty of time alone with your boyfriend, a rare occurrence as a 16 year old. You made pasta for dinner and then cuddled up for a scary movie.
You snuggle into his warm body, your hands moving under his shirt to touch his soft skin. He looks down at you, a soft smile on his face. You lean up, kiss him sweetly. Your lips move together, your hands moving across his sides and stomach before stopping at the top of pants, unsure, hesitant. You've gone further than kissing before but never all the way, you're both pretty new to dating and intimacy but you want him, you trust him and want to take the next step.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you revel at the taste of him. You feel silly saying you're making out, sounds like a cheesy movie, but it's also what you're doing. He takes your hips in his hands and urges you into his lap and you go willingly. You move your hips slowly against his, feeling nervous, and you can feel him start to harden beneath you. You moan into his mouth and move to pull off his shirt when you hear the front door.
“Fuck!” You start to pull away, your boyfriend taking a lot longer to realize what's happening. You slide off of him just as your dad steps into the room and your boyfriend is blushing harder than you've ever seen him as he pulls the blanket back into his lap. Gerard gives you a look, glancing between you both, and then he raises an eyebrow and clears his throat.
“Hey dad.” You try for casual but you know you sound like you're hiding something, you never were very good at lying to him.
“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles at you but still seems suspicious. “I didn't know you'd have Y/B/N over, you know you need to at least let me know.”
“I'm sorry Mr. Way!” Your boyfriend rushes out and you start to apologize too.
“It's ok, I'm always happy to see you.” Your dad laughs and you smile, happy for his approval. “But it's pretty late, I'm sure your parents are expecting you back home.”
“Of course, right, I'll just…” your boyfriend seems nervous and stumbles to his feet. He gathers his things and kisses your cheek at the door before heading out to his car. You watch his headlights disappear before closing the door and returning to the living room. Your dad is sitting on the couch now, the blanket having been thrown into a nearby chair. He's turned your movie off and is watching you, perhaps hoping you'll explain yourself.
“Do we need to talk about this?” Gerard asks and you duck your head, trying to hide your red face.
“We weren't doing anything.” You try but he laughs.
“You looked more guilty then that Halloween i found you behind the couch with the entire bowl of candy!” You try not to laugh, you were only 6 at the time but you remember the night well.
Gerard sighs and pats the couch beside him, waiting till you sit beside him. He's wearing a dark hoodie and he smells familiar, like dad. You feel safe, comfortable, even with the most uncomfortable topic on the table.
“I just want to make sure you're being safe.”
“We weren't doing anything, dad, I promise!” You insist and he gives you a look and you shrink into the couch.
“Sweetheart, you can talk to me about anything. If you have questions or if you don't feel safe.”
You know he's not trying to embarrass you, he's just being a parent. Making sure you're safe, that you're not being stupid, and that your boyfriend is being respectful. You know you're lucky your dad cares so much, but you can't help wanting to go hide in your room right now.
“I'm safe dad, don't worry, I did pay attention in sex ed.” You roll your eyes, try to pretend this isn't embarrassing to say.
“I'm glad, but if you do need anything I'm here for you.” He smiles and you smile back at him, despite your mortification.
“Thanks dad.” You lean in and wrap your arms around his neck and he hugs you back, gives you a tight squeeze before letting you go.
“Now head up to bed, you've got school tomorrow.”
You start to head out, ready to sink into your plush bed and listen to the playlist your boyfriend made you. Your dad shouts your name when you reach the stairs and you look back at him.
prompt: requested by anonymous “ hey! do you still write imagines for spn? if so, could you do one kind of rough smut with dean? idk about the plot exactly, do whatever you want, lol. thank you!”
Word count: 1,507
Pairing: Dean x Reader
A/N: one smutty hurt/comfort fic for anon
--
You were working a case, witches in Denver. At least people turned up dead in 2 weeks and it didn't take long to find out why, but things got messy and violent really quick. You confronted the witches but they knew who you were and why you were there, you weren't prepared for that. They got the drop on you and it felt like amature hour, embarrassing for an experienced hunter like you. But you got slammed into a wall and then a table, and you hit your head way too hard, knocked out cold. Then everything goes dark and foggy, and you wake up in the hotel room with Dean sitting beside you. he filled you in, they stopped them and Dean brought you here to recover. Your head is pounding and your body feels, well it feels like you got slammed into a wall.
You sit up slowly and Dean has a hand on your back, supporting you. You glance at him and catch his worried green eyes, that fear he tries to hide. You note that Sam isn’t there, probably out cleaning up the mess and the bodies, or whatever happened. There are usually bodies.
“Had me worried for a second,” Dean chuckles, trying to hide that fear again, hand still on your back, warm. You look at him, smile, and his eyes crinkle when he smiles back.
“Thought you lost me again?” You tease but you see that it hit hard, that maybe he did think he lost you. “Dean…” You reach out and cup his jaw, eyes soft as you look at him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise and he kisses you, something urgent on his lips, and you slide your hand into his hair, pulling him closer. He kisses you deeply, need obvious and desperate; fear and lust.
He pulls you close, into his lap, lips still on yours. The pain fades, everything narrowing down to his lips on yours, his hands on your back twisting in your shirt. He’s desperate, needy, licking into your mouth, his hands find their way in your shirt, warm on your back. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard and hearing him whine low in his throat, his fingers digging into your skin and pulling you closer. You lick at his lip, feeling the fading mark of where you bit and he shivers.
His blunt nails suddenly scratch down your back and you arch and moan softly. Dean gives you that look, that obnoxious cocky smirk, you'd be annoyed if he didn't look so hot.
“And here I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt,” You tease and he just keeps looking at you like he won the goddamn lottery.
“No one's ever gonna hurt you,” He says, truly making you believe it, before he smirks, “but me.”
“But you,” you agree and he kisses you again.
Dean pulls your shirt over your head, looking at your lustfully before he dips down and takes your nipple between his plump lips. You run fingers through his hair as he licks your nipple to attention and then you gasp as he bites and pulls it between his teeth, pain and pleasure sparking under your skin. His hands feel big on your waist, rough from hunting and a stark contrast to his soft lips on our chest.
Your mind is cloudy as Dean continues biting and licking at your breasts, his nails scratching at your skin. You grip his hair and pull and he exhales shakily as he looks at you, lips wet and eyes dark. You press your lips to his urgently, deep and biting, and he responds instantly and just as desperate. You stand from his lap and start to unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and smiling at Dean’s slack jawed look. You roll your eyes and drop to your knees, undoing his jeans for him and loving his sharp intake of breathing as his cock is no longer confined by denim. You climb back into his lap and his cock brushes against your wet folds, he shivers and takes a hold of your waist, both of you in no mood to build the anticipation anymore.
Dean controls your movements with his grip on your waist and he guides till you feel him poking at your entrance. You begin to slide down, feeling him stretch you open, sliding further and further till he's deep inside you. You moan as you slide down, watching his eyes roll back as he groans, deep and sexy. He sets the pace, doesn’t let you go slow, guiding up and down on his cock while he bucks up into you. His lips attach to your neck, biting and sucking until you’re sure there will be marks and you can’t stay still, squirming in his lap and feeling him inside of you, doing your best to keep a rhythm as you ride him and his hips rise to meet yours.
Your neck stings from where he left bites and hickeys, your back stings from his nails, and you no longer feel the pain in your head from the hunt. He stills you with his hands and kisses you, tongue pushing into your mouth and you whine, pleasure engulfing your mind and body. He lifts you up just enough that he can slide out and then buck back up into you.
“Don't move baby, let me fuck you.” He sounds wrecked, breathless and needy and you nod and nod and he holds your hips tight enough to feel his fingers dig into your skin.
You throw your head back, feeling him deep inside you, he always gets so deep when you're on top. He pulls your body into him, his lips attaching to your chest again. He sucks hard on your breast, surely giving you another hickey, and you whimper. He moves to your nipple again, flicking his tongue over the hardened peak over and over and it drives you mad. You try to keep holding still, feeling him slide in and out of you, deep and hard. He moans against your skin, rhythm getting harder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck baby,” he groans and your hips buck, making him dig his fingers in harder. He's fucking you so deep and so good, you can hear how wet you are each time your bodies come together.
“Dean, please,” you beg, barely coherent through the fog of pleasure.
“I know baby, I got you.” He whispers, moving his lips to yours and you feel one of his hands move off your hip and between your bodies. He touches you gently at first, fingers teasing, until he finds your clit and pushes a little firmer. You gasp and moan, feeling the pressure build higher and higher with each stroke of his cock and flick of his finger.
He knows just how to get you there, many many nights of practice between you two. He's looking at you with dark eyes, entranced by your pleasure and the way you moan for him. He keeps pushing into you and you can feel every inch of him, hard and pushing against your walls and you can't think, can't breathe. His finger is moving in just the right spot and you're so close and he knows it.
“Come on baby, cum for me.” He says it so sweetly but his voice is dripping with lust and he's gorgeous, green eyes locked on you like you're the only thing he ever wants to see in this world. You think he loves you, you think you love him.
“Dean-!” You cry out, desperately begging him not to stop as you cum around him. The pleasure is almost too much as he fucks you through your orgasm, unaware of anything but him inside you and his lips on yours, swallowing your cries. You finally collapse against him and he holds you against him, skin to skin, everything feeling electric.
He continues to fuck you, you're sensitive, pleasure bordering on the edge of too much. You bite his neck and nuzzle him, kiss him wet and possessive. He groans and turns to capture your lips again, you feel his hips stutter and he moans loud into your kiss before he stills. You kiss him again and again and he tries to catch his breath between each one. His hold on you softens, gentle as he holds you close and runs his fingers along your naked back.
Everything slows and quiets and it could be just you and him in this hotel room and you'd never know. The rest of the world could disappear and you wouldn't care. You feel safe, cared for, in the arms of the one person you'd give everything to never lose. He kisses you soft, nuzzles his nose against your skin and down by your jawline, breathing you in. And you think, he'd do anything to keep you too.
Prompt: Requested by @lindseyannway “hey I have a grade A request can you write anything geetrick you've got me invested into this ship haha!”
Word Count: 3,345
Pairing: Gerard x Patrick
A/N: Here I am in the year of 2025 to remind you that Geetrick was a thing
--
The teacher is droning on about algebra and Patrick is trying to listen, really he is, but his mind is somewhere else. He keeps looking over at Gerard, the edgy boy two seats over that barely looks up from his journal. It's a black spiral notebook with red sharpie on the front, Patrick has seen it everyday for months now, and each page is covered in sketches and words in mixes of black ink and pencil. Patrick has become obsessed with knowing what Gerard is writing and drawing but he can’t make it out from his seat without making it obvious that he’s trying to see. If it was Pete or Andy or Joe then Patrick would just snatch the notebook after class and flip through, unbothered by their protests; but this is Gerard, who Patrick has barely spoken 2 words to this entire school year and probably doesn’t know that Patrick even exists.
Patrick sighs to himself, lost in the way the sun hits Gerard’s dark hair and makes it shine. He looks beautiful, dark hair falls over his face and shoulders, his lips are bitten and pale, some acne decorates his cheekbone and into his hairline. Somehow he even makes the school uniform look cool, and not because rips it up or changes it like Pete and Frank Iero, he just seems so naturally cool. Patrick thinks about himself, his ginger hair that never sits the way he wants it too, the trucker hats and sweater vests, and his glasses that Pete insists suit him but he isn’t so sure; Gerard would never think he’s cool. The bell rings then and Gerard is up and out before Patrick can even think of trying to talk to him.
The halls are loud and crowded, Patrick weaves between other students as he makes his way to his locker. He sees Pete and Andy already waiting for him and he smiles as Pete calls his name. Pete is also naturally cool, but not in a brooding artist way like Gerard, he’s just extraverted and loud and always true to himself in a way that Patrick always struggled to mimic. Pete knows who he is, knows what he wants, and is never afraid of what others might think of him, he just exists, Patrick has always been jealous of his seemingly lack of anxiety and his casual charm. But Pete always insists that Patrick shouldn’t be jealous of anyone, that he’s the coolest guy he knows. Pete talks a lot of shit.
“How was gym?” Patrick asks as he opens up his locker and dumps in his math textbook and crumpled homework he forgot to turn in. His locker is a mess of books and crumbled pages, polaroids of his friends stuck to the inside of the door. Pete drew a dick on the door in sharpie, hairy balls and all, and Patrick snickers every time he sees it. Hopefully he doesn’t get in trouble come the end of the year.
Andy is texting, his sidekick is a reddish color similar to his hair. His nails have a chipped orange polish on them and he’s bitten them too short. He shrugs, his hair is frizzy and he looks tired, or maybe just bored. Andy always seems to be texting somebody, he’s got a list of friends that Patrick has never met and knows nothing about. Patrick always thought Andy looked like the kinda guy who has skateboards on the wall of his bedroom and a massive stack of CDs spilled out on the floor, but despite knowing him since elementary school he has never actually been to his house and he’s never seen Andy with a skateboard. His jeans have holes in the knees and are frayed on the bottom where they drag on the floor, Patrick could never pull that off, he also feels way too nervous about breaking the dress code. Andy gets carded most days for not wearing the uniform, he ruined it in the wash at the beginning of the year and his folks didn’t want to shell out the money for a new one, endless after school detention seemed a smaller price to pay.
“We played dodge ball but the ball popped on Frank’s eyebrow spike.” Pete laughs and you can see a red rubber ball flying through the air where Frank Iero tries to headbutt it only to end up getting hit in the face and stabbing the ball with that obnoxiously sharp stud he wears on his face. Patrick isn’t one for piercings but he does wonder how Gerard would look with a hoop on his bottom lip. Cute, hot, gotta stop thinking about Gerard Way.
“Wanna go to the record store after school?” Pete asks Patrick, “I wanna look for that record Joe was talking about last night.” Patrick can’t remember the name of the band, let alone the album, but Joe seemed obsessed.
“Where is Joe?” Patrick looks around as if he somehow missed the tallest one of the group.
“He skipped, wanted to try and beat Doom again.” Andy tells him, finally slipping his phone into his pocket. Patrick left his phone at home, knowing that Pete blows it up all day and kills the battery anyway. He just sends every thought in his head, like their text chain is just his personal diary.
“He’ll never finish that game.” Pete laughs. “Lunch outside?” and they follow each other out to the tables in the back of the school.
It's not warm outside, clouds covering the blue sky, but it isn’t freezing. The table is wet from this morning but they sit down anyway, Patrick and Andy like normal people and Pete with his ass on the table and his feet on the seat between the other two. Patrick is eating a peach yogurt when he notices Gerard and Frank down by the fence at the end of school property. Frank has added pins all over his school jacket and ripped holes in the knees of his black pants. He’s wearing these fingerless gloves with skeleton hands on them, and is that eyeliner? The two are sharing a cigarette, passing it back and forth as they talk and laugh. Patrick can’t make out what they are saying, they are too far away and the kids playing tackle football on the field are way too loud to hear over. But Patrick watches them nevertheless, watches Gerard brush his hair away from his face as he blows out smoke. He laughs at something Frank says and Patrick wishes he could make him laugh like that. Another guy joins them after a few minutes and Patrick recognizes him as Mikey, Gerard’s brother and Pete’s friend of the last few months.
Mikey and Gerard are similar, they keep to themselves, aren’t the most talkative brothers, and get in trouble for wearing earbuds during class. Pete met Mikey in detention and then went on and on to Patrick about how ‘fucking cool’ he is. Pete must notice Mikey just then because he says ‘fuck ya’ and hops off the table. Pete is actually wearing the uniform today but without the jacket, despite the weather. Patrick watches Pete walk away and then join the others, Mikey grinning at the sight of him. He says something and Pete laughs and Frank says something and Patrick wishes he was brave enough to join them. He watches them talk for a while before Andy draws him into a discussion on the Ramones and whether or not that local band they saw last weekend was inspired by them.
Andy is deep in a theory about David Bowie and his most recent album, Patrick listening with rapt attention, when suddenly the group by the fence is taking over their table and Frank’s giggling and Pete’s hysterical laughter is filling the air around them. Pete sits across from Patrick, who scoots closer to Andy, with Frank on one side and Mikey on the other. Which leaves Gerard to sit right next to Patrick, who suddenly can’t breathe.
Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck
“Hi,” is all Patrick can manage to say, looking at Gerard with what he imagines is an adoring expression and bright red cheeks. He can feel his face burning, spreading down his neck, as Gerard smiles at him. His smile is a little crooked, and Patrick notices the green in his eyes and the red eyeshadow smudged around his bottom lashes. It looks old, maybe from this weekend and he never washed it off, or maybe that's on purpose?
“Patrick, right?” HOLY SHIT GERARD WAY KNOWS HIS NAME??
Patrick’s brain short circuits and he nods dumbly as Gerard looks amused at him, does he have a stupid look on his face? Is it incredibly obvious that he has a massive crush on him? Maybe it says “I LIKE YOU’ across his forehead in sharpie and he never noticed.
He’s close enough that Patrick can smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes and the shampoo or maybe cologne that wafts from his hair, it’s spicey, maybe cinnamon? Patrick wants to lean in and figure it out but stops himself, shifts awkwardly in his seat and wonders how much teasing is in store for him from Pete. But Pete isn’t paying any attention to him, instead leaning into Mikey’s space as they both hunch over a comic book on the table. They are whispering to themselves, engrossed completely in whatever superhero fills the pages. Pete was never really into comics until he met Mikey, and now it's like he can never shut up about them, suddenly able to tell you the entire history of Captain America, and Patrick suspects he’s just reiterating what Mikey has told him.
Patricks glances down and sees Gerard’s bag on the floor between them, the black notebook poking out the top. He could grab it if he wanted to, it's right there, the inner workings of Gerard’s brain within reach. He thinks about it, wonders if Gerard would let him, if he would welcome Patrick into his world without question. Probably not. He looks back up and finds Gerard looking at him, but he looks away as soon as Patrick catches him. What was that? He sees color rise up Gerard’s face and Frank gives him a look like he wants to start laughing but he doesn’t.
“Shut up.” Gerard hisses at Frank and the two seem to have silent conversation that leaves Patrick hopelessly left out.
They talk music and comics until the bell rings and they all begrudgingly head back towards their classes. Patrick thinks about Gerard all day, thinks about the blushing, the look, the way Frank teased him, the notebook, it all haunts his thoughts.
--
After school Patrick is waiting out front for Pete when said friend comes crashing into him, arm around his shoulders and sloppy kiss to the side of his face.
“Ew!” Patrick grimaces, wiping the slobber from his face and shoving Pete off of him. “I hate you.”
“You love me!” Pete is grinning wide, the only person with more energy after school, bouncing off the walls like he downed 3 red bulls. Maybe he did, Andy keeps some in his locker and Pete is a thief.
It looks like it's gonna rain, dark clouds gathered overhead and chill sweeping through the trees and ruffling Patrick’s hair. The front of the school and parking lot are quickly filling with students, voices chattering, music coming from cars pulling out and booming laughter as kids shove each other and call after their friends. Pete isn’t alone, the way brothers and Frank appear behind him and Patrick suddenly feels nervous.
“Oh, hi.” He greets them and Gerard smiles. Oh shoot he feels his face get warm again, this is just embarrassing. “Where’s Andy?” He turns back to Pete.
“He’s going to the mall with that guy, uh…” He trails off, snapping his fingers and looking to Patrick like he would possibly know which random guy he could be referring to. “You know!”
“No?”
“The guy who’s really into screamo? The one with the tongue ring?” Patrick recalls a vague memory of meeting a guy at Andy’s last birthday party who had pierced his own tongue and looked like Cousin It from the Addam’s Family.
“Oh right.”
“So,” Gerard cuts in. “My van is this way.” He gestures vaguely towards the student parking lot and Patrick feels his heart skip a beat.
Patrick looks to Pete nervously and he grins big and wide.
“We’re getting a ride with Gee.” Pete explains and motions for Patrick to come with, who follows almost automatically. This feels like a bad idea, his heart hammering in his chest, palms getting sweaty and he’s sure he’s blushing like an idiot. But he follows, listening to Pete babble about his writing assignment and this poet his teacher insisted he read, all the while watching Gerard walking in front of them. He walks between Mikey and Frank, the latter bumping into him repeatedly as they walk until Gerard shoves him, both of them laughing as Frank comes back in. His laugh is cute, it fills Patrick’s ears like a song and he once again wishes he could make him laugh but he’s always too nervous around him.
It turns out the van is his mom’s mini van, a grey rounded looking thing with sliding doors and crumbs in the seats. Patrick briefly thinks that it’s very similar to the one Joe always drives around in. Gerard gets behind the wheel with Frank upfront and the rest of the guys in the middle, with Patrick behind the passenger seat. He can see Gerard’s profile from this angle, his cute nose, the slight waves in his hair, his hands gripping the wheel as he gets them out on the road. Frank is pulling CDs from the glove box, debating with Gerard about which one to play, they land on The Smashing Pumpkins, and Frank starts singing along obnoxiously loud. Pete of course joins in, head banging in the middle seat, his dyed black hair flopping in and out of his face. Patrick feels like such a stalker, just watching Gerard drive, he looks so casual, one hand on the top of the wheel and the other hanging out the window. He’s lightly banging his head to the music and then flips off someone in the car next to them. Patrick can’t help but think how hot he looks, he’d take a picture if he thought no one would notice.
The car ride is loud and Frank keeps turning around in his seat to talk to Pete and Mikey, Patrick isn’t sure he actually has a seat belt on. He feels anxiety settle in his stomach at the thought, but bites his tongue. Pete keeps turning every song into those rough, screamo vocals he’s been practicing and it drives Frank nuts. They end up at Pete’s place since his parents are always out of town. They pile out of the car, backpacks on shoulders and laughing too loudly. He parked too far form the curb but better then Patrick could manage, still not having managed to get his license.
Pete’s place is a bit of a mess, having been on his own for almost a week now. Pizza boxes litter the kitchen, books and magazines are tossed around on all surfaces and his record collection has been turned out on the living room floor like he was showing it off to someone. Maybe that girl he’s been trying to impress, what’s her name? Ashley? Patrick can never seem to remember. He doubts she was impressed anyway, probably more interested in the pool out back. Soon there is music playing and Pete and Frank and Mikey are talking loudly in the kitchen, Pete’s laughter carrying to the livingroom where Patrick is sitting on the floor beside Gerard.
He picked him, picked the livingroom and homework and awkward Patrick over the guys probably having a lot more fun in the other room. He feels like the luckiest guy in the world. He glances over at Gerard who is looking down at the homework that Patrick has been working on. It's just science, and Patrick keeps getting stuck on every other question.
“Pete says you like to play drums?” Gerard suddenly says, looking up from the worksheet and locking eyes with Patrick. Oh fuck he’s gorgeous. His eyelashes are really dark against his pale skin, his eyes a pool of brown and gold and green.
“Uh, um, ya!” Patrick stumbles over his words. “I play a few instruments actually.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling shy about his talents.
“Oh, awesome, we should play together sometime.” Gerard smiles, and it's crooked and it gives Patrick butterflies. “Here,” he moves to pull out his black notebook and puts it between them, quickly flipping through the pages, looking for something. Patrick is taking in the information and notes that it’s a lot of lyrics and ideas for what looks like a concept album, he even has entire pieces of musical scores written out. Sketches of characters and outfits and set designs.
“Oh wow,” Patrick breathes, incredibly impressed with the creativity Gerard possesses. He flips the page and then another and then, as Gerard tries to stop him, he flips another and this isn’t music. It’s him.
Its doodles of him with his goofy trucker hats and his pencil in his mouth and are those his hands? His shoes with the laces not done up and one with his hands shoved in his pockets trying to disappear into the lockers. He looks at them all with wide eyes, he wasn’t the only one looking all this time. He swallows hard and then looks at Gerard, who has gone red and is worrying his lip between his teeth, Patrick’s eyes get locked there for a moment too long.
“You’re really good.” He tries, because it’s true, he has a unique style and a natural talent that most kids their age would kill for.
“Thanks, thanks…” He goes to pull the notebook away and Patrick stops him, covering Gerard’s hand with his own. Gerard looks up at him and Patrick decides to be brave, for once in his life to battle his anxiety and shoot his shot. Because fuck, he has been drawing him this whole time!
“I like to look at you too.” It's the best he can do and he looks into Gerard’s eyes hoping he understands what he’s trying to say. His cheeks heat up and Gerard’s face is a little red and then he breaks into a smile and he laughs and Patrick laughs too and he can’t stop looking at him. Gerard moves in quickly, capturing Patrick in a kiss that stills him and he thinks his heart stops beating.
He keeps his hand over Gerard’s but moves his other one to his arm to steady himself and he feels Gerard touching his thigh. Oh wow. His lips move against Gerard’s, unsure and shy and a little desperate. Fireworks go off in his mind, a big banner that says “Finally!!!” unravels and he cheers silently. Is this real life? He smells like cinnamon and honestly he tastes a bit like cigarettes and Patrick has never been happier in his entire life. He pulls back and Gerard looks surprised and is that adoration? Is that the same look Patrick has been casting at Gerard’s back for who knows how long? He looks to the kitchen but the guys aren’t paying them any attention and Gerard is drawing absently on his leg. He looks back and they both smile at each other.
“I really like you, Gee.” Patrick says quietly, his cheeks burning, but he forces himself to keep looking at Gerard.
“I like you too.”
Fuck, fuck! Really?? FUCKKk! Patrick can’t keep himself from smiling and he laughs in disbelief.
“Does this mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” He asks, feeling like he might puke from nervousness. Gerard is nodding before he answers.
