If you can imagine Marvel Comics, Taylor Swift, MCU, MCR, Chris Evans, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes wrapped in one, that is my page. I'm stuck in the 1989 era. Proud Swiftie since 2014, y'all. ✨Masterlist ✨ She/They
Hey everyone! This is just a post regarding my fanfic and where to find it. On Tumblr I do MCR fic and that’s basically, exclusively it.
Characters I write for:
-Chris Evans + characters
-Gerard Way
Tumblr masterlist
AO3 (Smut)
Recommendations
I do requests as well! I have a few rules, however, with requests and just rules in general about my page:
- I will do some dark fics, but only to an extend. Lighter dark fics are okay, but aspects like manipulation, drugging, non-con, etc. will not be written. I refuse to romanticize any of those things in fics.
- I may not respond immediately, however I do check my inbox when I get a request. I cycle through characters, so when I’m writing one I typically can’t write any other character during that time. It’s basically like a phase, but of characters I write for fanficiton.
- I do not own any of the characters I write, these are just fan ideas for scenarios.
- Real people I write about are portrayed as characters. Please understand that I do not intend to harm nor harass any of the real people I write about, in my fics they are always just characters.
- I do not write smut.
- Hate towards my page will not be tolerated, and attacking my fics and labeling them as harassment will not be tolerated either. As mentioned before, everyone in my fics are characters.
Important:
Do not translate, copy, or take my work and post it on other platforms. I do not consent to it.
Guys I got MCR tickets today (like super YAY considering I had to sell my last ones) but I have the itty bitty worry that showing up and seeing Gerard Way in the flesh will cause me to break down realizing how severe my parasocial relationship is with that man 😃
(I will continue to live in my delusion world until then and fall into it deeper!)
It has been seventeen years since The Black Parade was sent to the MOAT. In that time, a great Dictator has risen to power, bringing about "THE CONCRETE AGE”; a glorious time of stability and abundance in the history of DRAAG. His Grand Immortal Dictator wishes to celebrate our rich and storied culture, fine foods, and musical entertainments by welcoming you to these great demonstrations of power and resolve. And lending voice and song for the first time in six thousand two hundred and forty six days, their work privilege ceremoniously reinstated, will be His Grand Immortal Dictator's National Band... The Black Parade.
Long Live Draag
——
“Long Live:" The Black Parade North American Tour
Tickets On sale Friday, November 15, 2024 10am local time
www.livenation.com | www.mychemicalromance.com/tour
July 11, 2025 | Seattle, WA | Special Guest: Violent Femmes | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/0F...
July 19, 2025 | San Fransisco, CA | Special Guest: 100 Gecs | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/1C...
July 26, 2025 | Los Angeles, CA | Special Guest: Wallows | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/0B...
August 2, 2025 | Arlington, TX | Special Guest: Garbage | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/0C...
August 9, 2025 | East Rutherford, NJ | Special Guest: Death Cab For Cutie/Thursday | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/00...
August 15, 2025 | Philadelphia, PA | Special Guest: Alice Cooper | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/02...
August 22, 2025 | Toronto, ON | Special Guest: Pixies | https://www.ticketmaster.ca/event/100...
August 29, 2025 | Chicago, IL | Special Guest: Devo | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/04...
September 7, 2025 | Boston, MA | Special Guest: Idles | www.redsox.com/MyChemicalRomance
September 13, 2025 | Tampa, FL | Special Guest: Evanescence | https://www.ticketmaster.com/event/0D...
——
Director: Claire Marie Vogel
Producer: Lars Ruch
Associate Producer: Jeremy Lambert
Art Direction: Matt Varnish
Linguistic Specialist: Nate Piekos
helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour
idk if this makes any sense tbh.
i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow
anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D
Title: Happily Ever Accident
A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc.
Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader
Word count: 7,978 words
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity
Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.
It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.
But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.
They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.
“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.
“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.
“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.
“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.
“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”
“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.
“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.
“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”
“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.
“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.
“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”
She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.
Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.
She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.
Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.
Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.
Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.
Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.
To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.
But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.
He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.
And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.
Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.
“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”
“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.
“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.
“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”
“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.
Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.
She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.
Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.
His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.
And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.
Fate works in strange ways.
“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.
“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”
“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.
This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.
“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”
Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.
“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.
“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?
“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.
“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.
“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”
Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.
“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”
His heart broke just a bit.
“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”
Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.
“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“
“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”
“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.
“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”
“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.
“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”
She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.
“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.
Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.
“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”
He let out a genuine laugh.
“Gerard.” He said.
“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”
“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.
“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“
“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.
“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.
“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.
“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”
“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”
“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.
“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.
“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”
“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”
Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.
Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.
Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.
She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.
So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.
If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.
That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.
She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.
In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.
And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.
“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.
“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“
“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.
“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.
“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.
“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.
“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”
“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.
“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.
“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”
Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.
She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.
“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.
“Your view is gonna suck.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.
“Okay?” He asked for clarification.
“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”
“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”
She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.
Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.
She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-
“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.
She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.
Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.
She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.
Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.
After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.
Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.
She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.
But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.
He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.
She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.
There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.
“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.
“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”
“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.
“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.
She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?
“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.
“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.
“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”
He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.
“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”
“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.
Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.
“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.
“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”
“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”
“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.
“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.
“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.
“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.
“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.
“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”
“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.
“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.
“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.
“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”
He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.
It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.
Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.
But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.
But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.
People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.
“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.
The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.
“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.
“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”
“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”
Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.
“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”
“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.
He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.
I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.
She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.
Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.
“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.
“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.
And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.
There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.
“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.
“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”
“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.
He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.
“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”
It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.
His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.
They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.
“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.
She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.
He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.
“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.
Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.
“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.
“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.
“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.
“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.
“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”
“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.
“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.
“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.
“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.
“Right.” He awkwardly responded.
He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.
By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.
And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.
“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”
Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.
“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.
The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.
She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.
“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”
He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.
“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”
She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.
“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”
“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”
A/N: Okay so a while ago I saw a post made by the__ria on Instagram where she drew Gerard as a tattoo artist with a bunch of tattoos and piercings and it's so INCREDIBLE (the post is from April 2023 on her Instagram page if you wanna see my direct inspo!). So here's a cutesy little story about who I think tattoo artist Gerard would be, and him doing/walking the reader through her first tattoo.
Pairing: tattoo!artist!Gerard x F!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, needles? (idk if that's one but putting it down)
Word count: ~2,900
You were finally doing it.
After over a year of wanting to, lots of thought and contemplation about it, you were finally forcing yourself to overcome the fear of potential pain and just get the tattoo you had wanted. You figured now was not only the perfect time to get some important art with significant value to you on your body but also to face your fear of pain and commitment. Call it killing two birds with one stone, you were calling it a whirlwind of anxiety.
Your favorite co-worker, Lianna, had promptly suggested her tattoo/piercing artist as soon as you told her you were gonna do it. Her face was sparkling with various pieces of metal through her skin, her arms lined with sleeves of small tattoos, and you knew she had some other places too. So why not? She clearly knew what she was doing, and you had no one else to rely on for this.
So this Saturday morning you entered the small parlor tucked in-between a couple of larger shops on the grungey side of town. You preferred it here anyways, where coffee shops and cocktail places were oddly experimental and regular clothing stores were silenced by the absurd amount of thrift stores. “You ready?” She asked with a big smile as you two walked in.
You tightly smiled, “Yeah, but nervous.”
“Don’t worry, Gerard is amazing. He makes everything so comfortable and is such a talented artist. He’ll take great care of you.”
“Did I hear my name?” You heard a male voice shout from a hallway somewhere.
“Yeah Gee, it’s Lianna.”
“Again? Dude, I will always thank you for your business but you were here like three weeks ago-" He stepped around the corner and into the back part of the counter, stopping briefly when he saw you.
“I’m here for her.” She clarified nodding her head in your direction.
Of course Lianna had to bring you to not only a vibey, comfortable tattoo shop, but one where the owner, and soon to be your artist, was extremely hot. You really tried to control your dilating pupils, but then again, no one could do that. There was no hope for you at this point. His lightly shaggy but short black hair that fell just below the tip top of his ear. The piercings that looked like they were made for his face included a septum, angel fangs on the top of his lips, a bridge piercing, and a small one on the center of his bottom lip (you weren't sure what those were called). And the tattoos that surrounded the skin all over him and up his neck just past the cut of the top of his shirt. You wanted to trace your finger over every inch of ink on his body.
“And who is this?” He smirked which you quickly picked up on, going to sit at his computer briefly.
“Um, I’m Y/N.” You said with a small smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too, sugar.” He looked up at you a bit, “What’re you here for?”
“A tattoo-“
“Her first.” Lianna quickly jumped in.
“Oh? A newbie.” He smiled, “We all gotta start somewhere. It looks like you’re in luck too because I’m free this morning so you won’t have to deal with Frank. He gets a little needle happy and likes the bigger harder stuff, and I’m assuming you wanna start simple.” You nodded, “What’re you thinkin’?”
“I want a sunflower on my forearm,” You said as he lightly nodded.
“Sounds easy enough, got any ideas I can see?” You nodded and pulled up your Pinterest board of ideas you liked while he quickly scanned through them, clearly taking many mental notes. “Perfect, mind if I take a few minutes in the back to draw up some ideas?” You nodded as he shot you a quick smile and went to the back.
“So, what do you think of him?” Lianna turned to you and asked.
“Why did you take me to a hot tattoo artist?” You groaned under your breath and through your teeth, hoping the walls here were thick. “Out of everyone and you chose the one that’s my type, and manages to make every single tattoo and piercing he has look like they were literally made for him.” She shrugged.
“Hey babe, remember I’m into women. Been dating the same one for five years, I don’t notice that shit about men.” You rolled your eyes, “If you really wanna go for it though, Gerard is most definitely single.”
“Yeah because someone who looks like him is gonna go out with me.”
“Judging by how incredibly flirty he was and the amount of times I counted his eyes looking you slowly up and down, I think the feeling is mutual.” You rolled your eyes. “For someone as genuinely beautiful as you are, we need to work on your self-confidence around men. It’s borderline sad how poorly you are at dealing with any man who is into you.”
“Because they’re not into me. They’re being nice.”
“I’ve known Gerard for years. That’s an overly nice, flirty, ‘I want to fuck this women’ Gerard.”
“I’m not looking for just a fuck.” You clarified, though you definitely wouldn’t mind doing that with him.
“Alright, I’m back. Thanks for waiting.” Your trance was broken by Gerard rounding the corner with an iPad in his hands. He walked over to you, standing next to you, and glancing the screen in your direction. It took your brain a few seconds of recalibration to stop focusing on his body heat, proximity, and damn smell that reeked in some sort of addicting way of cigarettes, coffee, and some musky pine situation.
Your eyes zeroed in on the design, realizing it was everything you wanted and more. Your face broke out into a huge smile. “It’s perfect. Like legitimately perfect.” He smiled back down at you.
“I’m glad you like it.” He responded. “Let me run back and print this out real quick, then get you to my station so we can talk placement.”
It only took him two or three minutes to get a variety of his designs printed out, coming back out and leading both you and Lianna to his station.
“You’ve eaten and drank water today, right?” He asked and you nodded.
“I wouldn’t have let he come here without that.” Lianna was quick to speak up.
“Right.” Gerard curtly nodded with a tight smile. “Just double checking. You would be surprised by the number of people that say they do that and then pass out or have issues afterward.” Your eyes went wide in concern. He saw your face and immediately retracted what he had said. “That’s not gonna happen to you. It only happens to people that don’t and just say they did.” He politely smiled. You nodded.
He spent a few minutes working with you on placement before finding the right area, and then carefully positioning it on your arm to make it easier for him to work. Even with his gloves on, your mind wandered with curiosity about how his hands felt, what they could do, and where they could go. It was subconscious, as you internally kicked yourself for thinking such things.
“Alright sweetheart, if you need to take a break or for me to stop because of the pain let me know.” You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you grew even more nervous. Your mind felt like it was spinning a bit, your face heating up at the prospect of the pain. “Do you wanna take another minute?” He asked, clearly sensing your nervousness.
“No, I’m okay.” You replied. “Just rip the band-aid off.” He softly smiled and nodded, grabbing his small tattoo gun.
“If it makes you feel any better,” He mentioned, loading what you assumed to be the ink inside. “Women’s pain tolerances are amazing when it comes to tattoos compared to men. I’ve had way more grown-ass men tap out after a few minutes on easy tattoo spots then I’ve had women after hours on more painful areas.”
“Really?” You asked, partially amazed. He nodded with a “mhm”.
“I swear,” He smiled softly. You didn’t even notice until now that he had placed the needle on and began tracing the outline.
It was way better than you had anticipated. If anything, it didn’t even feel fully like a scratch, just like a very very small burning and tingling sensation.
“You doing okay?” He asked, his eyes still zeroed in and focusing on the lines he traced.
“Yeah, actually. This doesn’t really feel like much.”
“See.” You could see his cheeks push up from where his head was tilted in what you assumed to be a smile. “Tattoos are generally not bad, but especially on women.”
He continued on for a few minutes, Lianna filling the air with her random ranting about one thing or another, before Gerard spoke up again.
“Why did you decide on this tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?” He spoke.
You softly smiled. “It’s for my grandmother. She passed away just over a year ago, loved sunflowers, so I wanted to get it for her.” Gerard hummed in appreciation.
“I’m assuming you were close with her?” He asked next, to which you hummed a quick “mhm”.
“I was very close with my grandmother too.” He smiled to himself, now tracing some the of the leaves. “She was the one who convinced me to continue with art from when I was a kid into my teen years, and then wanted me to go into it professionally.” He said.
“That’s really sweet.” You replied. “Do you have any tattoos for her?”
“I’ve only got one, shockingly.” He chuckled. “I got it right after she passed, five years ago-ish. It’s just her name in her handwriting on my inner forearm.” You glance down to where his arms laid, working on your own, but couldn’t find it.
“What was her name?”
“Helena.” He stated. “I can show it to you after.” You nodded, not even sure if he could see your face, but also not sure how to respond fully. “Are you ready for shading? This is probably gonna hurt a bit more.”
“Yeah, it’s okay.” You replied. He looked up at you for the first time during the session to give you a comforting smile.
“If you need to tap out just say so. No shame in it.”
Shading dis hurt notably more. You closed your eyes for a small portion of it when the pain became a lot, the repetition of the needles over and over again on the same part of your skin. “You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You sighed out, letting your mind take you to other places but the pain on your arm.
“Good girl.” He muttered. That phrase made you tense, and you prayed no one in the room noticed your legs move slightly closer together. Damn praises.
Your eyes opened, working their way up to Lianna who was smirking between the two of you. Had you not been preoccupied with one of your arms being temporarily out of commission, you would’ve hit her.
Less than 20 minutes later he was done. You heard the gun turn off, and his gloves come off.
“You wanna see it?” He asked and you nodded, standing up and letting him guide you to the full body mirror in the shop. As soon as you turned your arm to see it, you gasped out loud not even intending to.
It was more than perfect. You weren’t sure you could have pictured it turning out any better, the way it cascaded up your arm and the perfect detailing.
“It’s literally perfect.” You stated in disbelief and excitement, turning to Gerard who had a huge smile plastered on his face. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course.” He replied, “I’m glad you really like it.”
“More than really like. I absolutely love it.” He nodded in appreciation.
You quickly glanced down to his inner forearm, noticing the delicate cursive tracing of the name "Helena". He quickly noticed, moving his arm up and to his side to allow you better access to see it more fully.
"That's really beautiful. And sentimental." He nodded.
"It keeps me grounded. Reminds me of her and all the principles she gave me." He softly smiled. "Grandma's are pretty damn special, aren't they." You giggled under your breath.
"They sure are."
It didn’t take long for him to ring you up, handing you over the total and waiting for you to pull out your right card.
“Wait-“ You began at the front desk, he stood behind it his head perking up at your confusion. “This is less than it’s supposed to be, right?” He shrugged it off.
“Lianna comes in here so often, I added a friend's discount.”
“Gerard, you really don’t have to do that. You worked really hard and I-“
“It’s okay, really.” He softly smiled. “Just come into me for the rest of your tattoos.” You nodded with a smile.
“Of course.” There was no need to argue and try to say you weren’t sure if you were getting more. As soon as you realized the pain was much less than anticipated, and how much you loved the new piece of art on your arm, you knew deep down you would be back for many more.
“Thank you, again.” You said, giving your signature on the receipt.
“Anytime.” He cheekily smiled at you. “I’ll see you around.”
“For sure-“
“Before we leave,” Lianna spoke up, now standing beside you and leaning on the counter. You assumed she was going to either request an appointment with Gerard or ask a tattoo-related question. “Gerard I’ve known you for four years.” He gave her a quizzical look, clearly just as unsure as you were as to where this conversation was heading. “You’ve never once flirted with a client, until Y/N.” He tried to interject with a quick opening of his mouth as his face turned bright red. “And Y/N is shit at talking to men. So just give her your number so we can all walk out of here happy and knowing the sexual tension over the last hour and a half does exist, and will be dealt with.”
Both you and Gerard stared at her with wide eyes unsure of what to do. For the first time that day, Gerard seemed flustered.
“Oh, um- yeah, sure.” He said, fiddling around the desk and finding a post-it note. He hastily wrote down his number, handing it to you. “No pressure or anything at all.”
“Thanks.” You softly smiled, still too embarrassed by Lianna to muster up anything more. “I’ll uh- I’ll text you.”
“That would be great.” He replied. “You like coffee?” You nodded. “Perfect, we’ll set up a date.” Your eyes went wide with nervousness. You looked like a deer in the headlights. “Again, no pressure.”
“Right.” You said, “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, it was nice meeting you Y/N.”
“You too, Gerard.”
As you walked out of the tattoo shop, you felt your cheeks heating up into a bright red of embarrassment from Lianna. “Why the fuck would you do that?” You asked/yelled at her as soon as you were a solid two blocks away.
“What? The tension between you two was insane.” She explained with a sigh. “And he wasn’t going to ask, because Gerard’s professional and takes pride in that. And you sure as hell weren’t going to ask, because you lose every ounce of your confidence around men.”
“That’s-" You knew she was right but the principle of the matter still made you mad at her.
“It’s the truth. And you should be thanking me! You now have a date with a hot as hell tattoo artist.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t judge men by how they look.” You fired back.
“I am a true and proud lesbian at heart… but you do have a point. I could see his attractiveness from a ‘I’m into guys’ perspective. It took a lot of imagining.” You groaned.
“What if he doesn’t actually wanna go out with me and you just made him feel pressured?”
“Gerard Way doesn’t feel pressured.” She explained with a scoff. “If there’s any man in the world who is confident bordering cocky, but thankfully stays a few steps away from cocky, it’s Gerard. He would have come up with an excuse, or better, told me off if he didn’t want to give you his number.”
“Whatever.” You sighed. “Now I have a date to set up and a new stressor and-"
“Gerard is chill.” She softly smiled at you. “He’s literally just gonna ask you to get coffee with him, he’s gonna pay no doubt, and just chill in the corner of a coffee shop with you and talk.”
“I’m not good at talking to men.”
“You’re great at it when you feel comfortable.” She sighed. “Just- trust me, he’s a great guy. If you’re nervous, tell him and he will completely understand.”
“Okay.” You said in a final defeat. “If this all goes to shit though, I’m blaming you.”
“If it all goes to shit, which it won’t,” She confidently fired back. “I’ll pay for your next tattoo.”
“It won’t be from Gerard if it all goes to shit.”
“Eh, so be it. A revenge tattoo arc would be fun for you!”
A/N: Heyyyyy this is for all my insecure girlies regardless of what type of body you have. All girlies can feel insecure at times even if you're a 00 or if you're a size 20. So here's a cute comforting fic for all of us ladies who need some extra confidence sometimes!
Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader
Word count: 2,316 words
Warnings: Mentions of insecurity, scrutinizing of one's own body, not necessarily an eating disorder, but themes/habits of disordered eating/limited eating, swearing, slight angst
You weren’t really a clingy kind of person, that’s probably how you and Gerard worked out so well. But right now, you were pretty sure you were watching every second until he got home.
You had spent a whole two days cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, making sure everything was set. You couldn’t believe you were going to admit it, but you were somehow nervous for his return. You hadn’t seen each other in months, talking over the phone was spontaneous at best, and he hadn’t been home since, well- you couldn’t remember, actually.
So maybe that’s why in your mind everything had to be perfect, because you weren’t sure what to expect. I mean, this could all simply explode in a minute, right? One small tap on the glass for it to shatter.
You paced around the room a bit, biting on your nail, something you never did, and awaited with baited breath and a thumping heart. He was your boyfriend of three years and you were somehow nervous to see him. It was like a date with a middle school crush but far worse because at the end of the day this actually mattered.
You could hear the door rumble a bit and swing open, looking up to be met with Gerard initially struggling with his bags a bit, but placing them down by the front with a sigh and looking up at you with a smile. You smiled back as he was the first to run up to you and give you a kiss. It wasn’t hectic or frantic just gentle and calm.
“Hi.” You finally said once he pulled away, meeting his eyes and he looked down at your with a smile.
“Hi.” He responded, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” You smiled back. “I- um, do you need help with your bags?”
“Nah, I’ll get ‘em later.” He calmly shrugged, “Probably need a shower though-”
“Oh thank God you said it.” You let out a sigh of relief, “With as much respect as possible, you smell like shit.”
“Thanks.” He snorted, beginning to walk back to your shared room where the closet space was. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
You took a deep gulp as he stepped out of the shower and you were able to finally notice his physique for the first time since being back. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, but his upper body was now structured with soft muscles on his arms and while he still had a bit of a belly (something you adored for whatever reason), he was much… thiner, than he was.
It didn’t shock you by any means considering he was practically getting a full blown workout for an hour a day in the hot sun while touring in the middle of summer. But it also didn’t help your own mental view of yourself.
You had always had this on and off again relationship with self love. Most of the time now, having matured and all and realizing how fake most bodies plastered on magazine pages were, you managed to actually find a lot of confidence in the way you looked. Sure, you were a bit chubby, some chunk on your arms, around your thighs and hips, a bigger belly than just the small one most women had, but you had managed to love the curves that came with it.
“Might as well take a picture.” You heard Gerard say and quickly looked to his face where he was smiling at you, realizing that you had been full blown staring for way too long. You couldn’t even respond, only looking away in complete embarrassment. “Oh c’mon baby,” He softly said, “You’re never speechless.”
He threw a shirt and sweatpants on before walking out to where you were laying on the bed, plopping down right next to you and letting his arms snake around your waist, squeezing you tight. As soon as he did though, and didn’t get your usual enthusiastic response since he knew you loved that move, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. “You okay?” He asked a bit more seriously despite you still facing away and not moving. “Did I say or do something, hon?” You shook your head silently. “What’s up?”
You tried to pull out of his grip, now being doubly embarrassed and therefore on the verge of tears, but it did not work with him at all. Damn, he had gotten stronger too. “Hon-” He tried to push a bit but was quickly stopped.
“Could you not?” You finally pushed back, turning over slightly to face him, his facial expressions quickly contorting from concern to shock. “I’m just not in the mood.” You sighed, getting up as he finally freed you from his grip. “And sorry for staring at you.” You mumbled, walking out of the bedroom and towards the main area leaving him completely dumbfounded.
What had he done in the 15 minutes he was home? Had he done something before and you were just being nice at first? Was he being too up front? Did you need more time to warm up again? Did he read something wrong?
The questions flooded his mind like an exploded dam as he sat up still confused but deciding to give you space and understanding intruding on your personal bubble right now would lead to way more harm than good. Maybe I should Google it or something- Google it Gerard? What are you thinking? Talk to your therapist but- damn, it’s like 9 pm don’t disturb him. Frank’s not bad with advice but he just got home too, Mikey maybe?
He wasn’t sure what to do because clearly, not obviously, like so blatantly, something was very, very wrong. But what was that thing? How did he fuck this all up so fast?
He was pondering his next plans of actions, because yes he would ideally like to sleep in a bed his first night being back in a while, but also the couch seemed like a more fitting punishment for whatever crime he had committed. But you were out there, and seemed like some form of distance at least temporarily seemed to fit the situation.
Finally, after some deep consideration, he figured it was best to just leave you alone and go to bed. If you wanted to come back, he would be on his side facing the other way, being sure not to disturb you. He turned off his side lamp and finally laid down, inevitably having to let the feeling that this was an issue for tomorrow settle on his turning stomach.
The next morning had started out usual for you. You had woken up, taken a shower, done your hair and skincare routine all within a time that Gerard had shockingly not woken up. You let him sleep extra knowing his sleep schedule on tour was never usual and getting anything more than four hours was a blessing, and also because of the little fit last night that you still were too embarrassed to address. Because how were you supposed to bring up your insecurities to your boyfriend without having to acknowledge them?
Just as you finished brushing your teeth you heard his footsteps pad through the bedroom and into the bathroom, where he quickly yawned from next to you in the mirror. “Morning, hon.” He said, his morning voice thicker than ever.
“Morning.” You replied, spitting out the last of your toothpaste, “How’d you sleep?” “Well,” He said, grabbing his own toothbrush and stealing the tube of toothpaste from your side, “Much better than on the bus.” You lightly smiled at him.
“What d’you wanna do today?” You asked him, brushing your hair once last time. He shrugged.
“Not much, to be honest.” He said, “Maybe breakfast or lunch, then hang out around here. Just wanna be around you.” He smiled a bit, letting a some of the foamed tooth paste show in his mouth which you lightly giggled at.
“Sure,” You replied, “That sounds good.”
You quickly got dressed into leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. At least this would cover your stomach and thighs. The whole “staying in” plan for the day made it easier to justify the outfit and for him to hopefully think not much of it. “You ready?” He asked, walking to the edge of your closet as you nodded.
You grabbed your tote bag on your way out, locking the door behind you, and was quickly met with his hand engulfing yours as you entered the street. He gave it a little squeeze, something he knew you adored, and suddenly had a blush growing on your face.
Thankfully, having lived in New York a decent amount of time now, you had found local favorites that were easy to get into and always good. A diner down the corner was one of your favorites, and especially early in your relationship was a frequent place you would go each morning after he spent the night with you.
You had your usual orders: Gerard would go for pancakes and you would go for french toast, and then each of you would pick off of the others when you got sick of your own. It was almost part of the routine of days like today. That was why Gerard happened to be so off guard when you didn’t order your usual, I mean, you still ordered a regular plate of breakfast food, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and all, but it wasn’t the usual thing.
He kept to himself a bit, eyeing you instead as each of you talked, and noticing slight body language queues of uncomfortability. He was still pondering last night, and the way you seemed to shrink yourself today didn’t give any indication that you were over whatever was bothering you from yesterday.
You didn’t comment or seem to mind when he took some of your food from your plate, but it made him feel a bit more guilty when you weren’t taking any from his.
“Want some?” He asked, motioning his head and silverware towards his plate. It was still half full of pancakes he has conservatively drenches with just enough syrup to your liking. Why did he have to be so perfect at all the wrong times? You were tempted, but before your mind could even fathom the taste of his pancakes you remembered how you looked. And you lost all that appetite. You shook your head. “No, thank you.” You replied, taking a small nibble of your hashbrowns.
Gerard really didn’t want to ruin breakfast, but he was also confused, and turning slightly anxious by the moment. You had always enjoyed food, he loved that about you. You were never afraid to try anything new, and the look on your face when you ate your favorite meals was always so genuine and happy. Today it looked just painful.
“Sweetheart,” he spoked up after a moment. You looked up at him. “Is something wrong? Are you alright?” He wasn’t sure now why he has asked it, seeing your eyes immediately fill with tears and your poor attempt at try to prevent your face from going sour. “Shit.” He muttered to himself, putting his silverware down, and using his free hand to grab yours from across the table.
“I’m just-“ You spoke, with a shaky voice and slow tear trailing down your cheek. You took your free hand and used the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe it off. “It’s so stupid.” “Honey, whatever you’re feeling is never stupid.” He told you, his face having melted into a puddle of concern. “I’m here to listen, always. You can always tell me anything and everything.” “I know.” You sniffled a little, taking a deep breath. “Just- seeing you come home and you’ve- you’ve, I don’t know, lost some weight- and you look great! Don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t know why you want me when I look like this and you-“ “Stop.” He said before you could even finish your sentence. You looked up at him with some worry as he sighed. “To begin with, I love your body. I’ve always found you incredibly sexy, and will always think you’re gorgeous even when we’re 80.” He said, “Next, even if your body changes at all, it will never make me stop loving you. I don’t love you just for your body, it’s a wonderful perk you happen to have, but I will always love you for you.” He sighed, “And finally, even if you did gain weight, or your weight shifted to other places, that’s just more of you to love. There is zero downside to that.”
You took a few moments considering his words. “Thanks.” You replied simply, feeling a little more calm but guilty for allowing your feelings to ruin his first day back. “Sorry for-“ “No apologizing for your feelings.” He said again, squeezing your hand. “I love you, and I will always be here to listen to you. Never feel guilty for feeling one way or another, okay?” You nodded. “Now, do you want some of my pancakes.”
You took a deep sigh of defeat. “Yeah.” He smirked, pushing the plate halfway across the table as you removed your hands from each other to go back to holding your silverware.
You took a pretty decent amount, stabbing with your fork and ferociously cutting with your knife. “Fuck these are good.” You grumbled, halfway done chewing them. He chuckled.
“Have as many as you want.” He softly smiled.
“I regret not getting the french toast.” You admitted with a small cringe. “We always share it.” “You wanna get it to go? We can keep it as a late night snack for later.” You took a moment contemplating his suggestion with a growing smile. You nodded. “Extra strawberries?” He asked with a knowing smile.
Hey! I'm just in love with your Gerard fanfics. could you make one based on "the archer"? I love the angst of your fics. fem!reader please 🥺
Love this prompt!- coming from someone with anxiety lol
Title: The Archer
Word count: 2,233 words
Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader
Warnings: Anxiety, stress, throwing up (does that count as a warning?)
The internal chemical cocktail of anxiety, perfectionism, and pleasing other people had taken you long ways in your life. You had been outrageously successful for your age, the internal voice always yelling at you to do better. It constantly made sure you never got more than a second of happiness with accomplishments so you would long for the drug of endless accomplishments more and more.
You kept venerability hidden deep in the crevices of your veins and far beyond where the eye could see. You made sure you weaknesses were targeted and bullied by yourself first before someone could jump on the wound and pour more salt. You had already done that yourself. You had constantly ensured things were done way ahead of time even if that meant jumping out of bed at 3 am in an anxiety spiraling and working until the sun came up. You didn’t want to be a workaholic, or obsess over your image, or worry about your success. It was just an inherent part of who you were as a person.
It should have never been shocking that this led to tumultuous relationships that seemed to sink under the thunderstorm of your mind when the inevitable harsh waves of self-destruction settled beneath the ship. It was like clockwork, the way that relationships wouldn’t last longer than a year when those deep dark parts of you made themselves known and snaked their way around their body to cover you in a their effortless black ink. The only people that ever stayed were the ones who were aware of your imperfections and deep flaws, and took you as you were not questioning your continuous habits that led to explosions.
You were on letter 46 now to Gerard explaining you wanted to break up. Not because you didn’t love him or because he had done anything wrong. It was quite the opposite, you just knew you were too much of a danger and a liability to be standing next to him and take him down with you when you fell. Your leg feverously bounced up and down to no particular rhythm as you attempted to formulate every feeling you had without outrightly telling him what they were. This would probably end up shredded in your trash can anyways, as the other 45 had.
“I want to let you in” was the last thing you were able to write, “But I can’t trust anyone in there.”
You were in a funk, something that you usually found yourself in maybe once a month. The biggest problem with this funk, is it happened to fall on a date with Gerard. Not just any date, but your one year anniversary. It was clearly a celebration to anyone looking into the little house of a relationship you had built, but to you it was a funeral.
Your anxiety felt like it was up to your throat today, and you couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. But doing your makeup was the biggest pain in your ass right now, especially on try number 11 for eyeliner that kept coming off too blotchy. “Fuck!” You whisper yelled as you messed it up again, throwing the pen into the bathtub and aggressively scrubbing the already throbbing red skin with another makeup wipe as it stung with each rub.
You wanted to cry, but that would have made your mascara fuck up and then your entire face ruined. But looking at yourself in the mirror right now, all you noticed was the slight discoloration of all the things you did wrong today on your face. The pimple you tried to cover up with layers of concealer after a stress-induced break out. The ever so slightly different shades of blush since your brush stroked weren’t perfect on both sides.
There were only 20 minutes left until Gerard was here, and knowing him he would actually be a bit early. You decided to bail on the mascara and just try to fix your makeup without overdoing it or completely wiping it off. You would have to live with feeling out of place and self-conscious tonight, because at this point you didn’t have an option.
A subtle knock came on your door. You took a deep, strong breath in and out before putting your game face on, putting on the best fake smile you could (which was pretty damn believable) and grabbed your bag. You opened the door to a dressed up Gerard (a relatively rare occurrence) with a sly smile on his face and flowers in his hand. “Hey, sweetheart.” He opened up with as you forced yourself to smile wider.
“Hey, Gee.” You said back, letting him give you a small kiss on the lips. You took the flowers from his graciously, thanking him and putting them on your counter before leaving and closing the door behind you. The small typical formalities were exchanged, trying to start conversation, but you had always hated the question, “Are you alright?” Which of course he had to ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled up at him although deep inside you were screaming you weren’t. “Just a long day, that’s all.”
You were thankful he didn’t push more, but that always opened up the negative part of the entire thing, which was the sneaking intuition that he knew it was much more than “just a long day”. As you got into his car he quickly plugged in directions to get you to the restaurant, and as much as you wanted to talk and say something you found no motivation or driver in you to do so.
He seemed to respect that boundary, but within five minutes of the drive had quickly realized that going out to a fancy restaurant with lots of people was not a good idea. First it was your inability to look at him and just outside the window. Then your leg that began bouncing up and down shockingly fast. Finally it was fiddling with your finger tips and clearly being lost in your thoughts while doing so.
“Ya know, we don’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to celebrate this.” He began at a red light, you looked up at him for the first time the entire ride and for the first time since seeing you today, your eyes seemed to light up just a bit. “I mean, that’s so unlike us.” He further explained, “Why don’t we just like, go home, and order take out.” You nodded your head.
“I mean, if it’s not a problem-““Not at all.” He softly smiled, ending the directions and turning the car around.
You were still a bit standoffish and generally distant throughout the night. It didn’t take a genius to realize your mind was running 100 miles a minute and it definitely didn’t take longer than a few minutes for Gerard to figure that out either. Especially with your favorite dish sitting in front of you as you forced small bites that you clearly did not enjoy. He hated to see you like this, and wondered why, but tried not to make a scene as you were clearly trying your best to act normal and not cause anything either.
You eventually stopped eating and sat there for a few moments as if trying to focus on something, “Baby?” He finally asked, realizing your face was shading over a bit pale and eyes wide, “What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Was all you said, bolting up and speed walking to the bathroom with your mouth covered. He was close behind you, finally reaching the bathroom only to see you over the toilet seat and belching everything you had eaten that day out. He sighed, kneeling down beside you and holding your hair firmly in his hand, rubbing your back. When you were finally done, your body slouching against the wall and chest heaving, he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe you. As soon as you had calmed down a bit more, he brought a cool, wet towel to your face placing it against your forehead.
“Honey,” He said, giving you a kiss on the top of your head, “What’re you stressing about?” You huffed and closed your eyes knowing he would see right through you.
“How come you just- you’re too good at this.” You responded as he gave a sympathetic smile, “You’re not supposed to worry about my stress.”“I am supposed to worry about it when you’re throwing up your entire day, practically shaking, and your eyes are unable to focus on one thing.” He sighed, “Is it work? Friends? Family? I can try to help-““No, it’s none of that.” You explained with groan as your head got shot through with a rough ache. You took another moment to compose yourself. “It’s all of this.”“All of this?”“Yes, this.” You replied, “I’m being vulnerable and as soon as that happens the relationship starts dying.” He wanted to scoff at that but kept it to himself.
“Pretty sure the entire point of a relationship is to be with each other through good and bad.” He explained. “Baby, it may be easy to hide anxiety from other people, but you’re dating someone who also has anxiety. It doesn’t slide that easy.”“I’m supposed to be put together though,” You rebutted, “Like- shit always goes downhill from here.”“It’s not going to with me,” He assured, “If anything, I’m glad we’re talking through this so I can help you in the future.”“You sound like my parents,” You rolled your eyes which he smiled at, “Or like a therapist. Maybe both.”
“Baby, just tell me what’s on your mind.” He pleaded, “Please?” You took a small sigh, collecting yourself for the continuous waterworks of emotions that were bound to start erupting as soon as you began your explanation.
“Just- a lot is happening right now in life and on top of the amount of worry I already have I’m worried this is going to end. They all do, every relationship has, so this one’s bound to. And it feels like I’m drowning here in constant worry and like waters in my throat and like I-“ You took a small moment to catch your shaky breath, “Like I can’t do this.”
He sat across from you on the tile bathroom floor with a look of sympathy of his face. He didn’t respond for a few seconds. You wondered if it was because he wanted to give you time and space to breathe, or if he was formulating and unsure what to say. Maybe both.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Was how he started. “What can I do to help life some of this off of you? Especially the relationship part?”“I don’t know and that’s what’s so damn frustrating.” You sighed out, still holding the now drying washcloth on your forehead and closing your eyes for a few seconds. “You do everything right already. Literally fucking perfectly. And my mind still won’t let me be convinced you’re gonna stay.”
“I know this isn’t going to help much, but I will never leave you.” He began, “Even if you don’t believe me, I just need to put it out there. And if for whatever reason, I did, I would talk to you first about why and looking at how we could fix stuff.” You sat for a few moments just staring at him. “Do you trust me?”
You nodded.
“Then know that I promise you that much. Okay?” You nodded again. “Why don’t I draw you a bath, hm?”
“Yes, please.” You said lightly, now removing the towel from your head as your lightheadedness began to slip away. “Can you join me?” You asked a moment later as he was already up, reaching over the tub and starting the water. He looked back at you with a small smile.
“Of course,” He replied.
It was not sensual or sexual, it was peaceful. You needed the skin to skin with him to feel grounded, to remind yourself that it was real, what he said was true. You knew deep down he was right: he would never leave you, and if he was thinking about it he would talk to you first. He knew too much about you and your worried and psyche to just break up with you. He knew it would hurt you, and you knew he would never hurt you.
“Happy anniversary, baby.” He whispered into your ear from where he sat behind you, your back flush against his chest. You smiled.
“Happy anniversary to you too,” You said back, grabbing one of his hands to toys with his fingers. You did this whenever you became a bit nervous as a method to calm yourself down. “This really has been the best year of my life.” You could feel the smile growing on his lips that grazed your shoulder.
“Gonna give you a lifetime of best years ever.” He told you with a level of confidence in his voice that rebutted all the conflicting anxieties stirring in your mind. You let your muscles go, all the tension relating and melting into him.
“You’re so sure about me?” You asked, craning your next a bit to make eye contact with him.
“I don’t think I’ve been more sure about anything in my life.”
A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been a hot second since I've published anything but I've had this completed in my drafts for a few weeks now. I was planning on trying to get multiple parts to this all out at once but I've had a lot of essays due recently and continue to have quite a few due so oh well. Gotta prioritize school over this. Here's my own kinda take on what I think a college hockey AU would look like with Ari, throwing in the wild card of being Bucky Barnes' younger sister.
Pairing: College Hockey!Ari Levinson x College Hockey!Bucky Barnes Younger Sister F!Reader
Word count: 6,180 words
Wanings: Swearing, strong moments of angers, mentions of sex
Summary: Meeting the stereotypical player, hockey boy Ari was exactly what you expected. Until you actually talk and realize he might not be all that bad. The problem is, Bucky things otherwise.
Bucky had finally convinced you to come up and see him.
It had taken well over a year, multiple breaks, and a hell of a lot of convincing on his part to finally get you to visit him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see your brother, or his school, you just didn’t really want to stay at a house full of college hockey boys. It sounded like a complete nightmare, and as you sat in your car mentally preparing to deal with it, you seriously questioned why you had agreed to this.
But your protective, occasional pain in your ass, best friend of a brother Bucky had an air mattress set up for your for two days, had agreed to pay for gas and food, and had solemnly swore to your parents to look out for you at all times. It was pretty believable, especially considering his physical size and demeanor.
As you parked your car in front of the house that still had red solo cups littered out front, a random hole in the yard, and just screamed “testosterone” at the top of it’s lungs you seriously began to reconsider everything. Right now, you could have been in your apartment in the city with your friends and roommates planning on a night out while you were on break. But instead, you were about to enter the only thing worst than a frat house: a college hockey teams house.
“Y/N/N!” You heard a shout as you opened the trunk of your car. You looked over to see your brother standing on the porch, with a smile, beginning to jog towards you. As soon as he reached you he engulfed you in a big hug that made you feel as if you were being swallowed whole.
“Hey Buck,” You replied, hugging him back. “Missed me?”“You know it,” He smiled back, going ahead to grab your bag from the car. You only had your backpack hanging off one shoulder, Bucky carrying the rest. He made it look so easy, like the suitcase was a small bag of groceries.
As you entered the house, the same aroma of every party you had been to flooded your nose. Except no one was actually here. You gave Bucky a look which he quickly read as disgust of sorts, “I promise I cleaned my room.”“Uh huh,” You replied looking around the place. There was no particular order to the couches, and literally no other furniture other than the four of them. The leather was worn and you were sure sticky by now. The floor managed also to be sticky, not shocking given who lived here. There were a couple framed photos on the wall of teams both present and past but that was about it.
“I promise, the actual living room for us is upstairs,” He told you, leading you that way. “The downstairs is really just for parties.”“I could tell, Buck.” You replied, crossing your arms as you began walking up the large stairs. “Why did I even agree to come here?” You questioned out loud. You knew Bucky rolled his eyes even though you were behind him.
“Because you love me oh so dearly,” He stated, you scoffed. “But seriously, I’ve visited your school like five times and you’re only a second year. You’ve been here once.”“Okay, well I live closer to home, in a city with stuff to do, and you were with mom and dad.”“There’s plenty of stuff to do here,” He argued back, fumbling with the key in his hand to open the door to his room.
“Mhm, like stare at the corn fields.” Now he actually rolled his eyes and you saw it. “And I’ve been here more than once! For all your championship games last year, and the year before.”“Those don’t count,” He explained, entering his room as you followed behind him. “School wasn’t happening.”“Okay, whatever.” You sighed, sitting down on his bed and placing your backpack on the floor. He hadn’t lied, he had actually cleaned his room. It did smelled like a can of Febreeze had been violated and died in there, but it was much better than downstairs. A subtle knock came ringing at his door. “Hey Sam!” You smiled up at him as he walked in, giving you a big smile back.
“There’s my favorite sibling of any player.” He said. You stood up, allowing him to give you a hug as well. “How’re you? How was the drive?”“Fine and fine.” You replied, sitting back on the bed as Bucky began making room in his closet for your stuff.
“Ya know, you’re a real trooper for staying here.” Sam pointed out, leaning against one of Bucky’s wall. You both looked at him, as he now stood with a large shrug.
“See, I told you!” You said to Bucky, “Be grateful.”“I was grateful you’re here, but I’m becoming less by the second.” He said eyeing you. You scoffed.
“If you ever need a break, you know where my room is-“ Sam began but Bucky was quick to interrupt him.
“No, there will never be a moment in time where Y/N is in your room with you alone, or anyone else’s for that matter.” Bucky stated pointing firmly at Sam. “I already went over this with everyone.”“Hey, out of every other guy in this house need I remind you I’m the most trustworthy with your younger sister?” Sam replied, with his hands up in a sort of surrender offering.
“Yeah, but still.” Bucky said, going back to clearing out part of his closet. “If Rogers were here he would be the most trustworthy.”
You missed Steve, but he was away visiting family this weekend. Besides, he had been a second brother to you your whole life, so it wasn’t as if you wouldn’t see him again. As soon as Christmas break rolled around he would be at your family’s house for a day or two to celebrate.“Damn, might as well rub salt in that wound.” Sam sighed, “Anyways, let me know if any of the guys here try to play any games.” Sam said, now looking at you. His hands were on his hips, his face now straight and serious. You nodded.
“Now you’re on my side for once?” Bucky fired at Sam.
“When it comes to your younger sister in a house full of guys that are borderline animals around any attractive girl? Yes.” Sam replied confidently. “All I’m saying is you only have so much power here, Barnes. You’re up against guys the same size and mindset as you. You’re gonna need as much backup as you can get with this one.”
So far all the guys here had been overwhelming nice. Maybe the dual threat of Bucky and Sam scared them off of you, but a part of you at least hoped they were just this naturally respectful to women (somehow, though, you did doubt that hopefulness). They wanted to talk to you about your school, what you were studying, how it was growing up with Bucky.
“So you’re the brains, huh?” One of the guys asked, leaning against the counter practically chugging a Gatorade bottle of water down.
“I guess,” You shrugged with a smile.
“That was how we grew up,” Bucky was quick to interject, finishing up one of his assignments at the counter. “She was always the smart one, I was the sporty one.”
You actually secretly praised your parents for raising you that way so there really was no competition for who was better. Each of you were good at your own things, and helped each other with the other. You always helped Bucky with homework (and still did), while Bucky helped you train to pass the one basic P.E. test you had to take.
You were munching on a bowl of chips some of the guys had set out for you, continuing to talk when the back door opened. “You comes back for once without a girl, huh?” Sam questioned from where he stood next to you.
It was pretty hard to ignore the absolute unit that walked in the door. He was a tank of a person, in the best way possible. Incredibly muscular, tall. At least 6’6, maybe closer to 6’7. His presence towered over the room of hockey boys, which was something you never knew could happen. His auburn brown hair was slicked back, the ends falling just under his ears. A beard covered his jawline, one which you imagined was incredibly defined and sculpted to perfection.
He set down his backpack which looked regular sized for him, but comically large on the floor. He turned to Sam, and in turn his eyes quickly met yours. They were a crystal blue, a color so prominent you figured his eyes must have been bleach white underneath to let such a color be seen. “Who’s this?” He asked, pointing to you and looking back to Sam. His face seemed a bit confused out of everything, with a hint of being pleasantly surprised.
“Y/N,” Sam commented, popping a chip in his mouth with a quick crunch and swallow. “Bucky’s sister. Younger sister.” he clarified.
“Ah,” He replied, approaching you with a smile that could make a line of 100 women pass out. “Name’s Ari. Ari Levinson.” He said, sticking his hand out. You took it and gave it a shake, one that you could tell dwarfed his typical shake but he went with it.
You had heard about Ari Levinson. Plenty of times from following a couple of the guys’ Instagrams and the hockey teams official one. He was a third year, like your brother. He was a star of sorts on the team, had already been picked up by a NHL team the year prior. But from what Bucky had mentioned, his parents had convinced him to stay the full four years to get his degree. And with good enough lawyers, they had convinced whatever team he was heading to to let him finish out his school and immediately hop into the sport professionally after he had a degree with his name on it.
“Y/N,” You replied. “Barnes, if that wasn’t already implied.” He gave a small chuckle.
“Yeah, I could tell.” He told you, leaning against the counter on the other side. “You two look a lot alike.”“Yeah, we got that all the time as kids.” You told him.
“I bet,” He said, his eyes trailing you up and down more slowly than what you felt was typical friendliness. You suddenly became a bit conscious at the leggings you were wearing and the fact his eyes had lingered a tad bit longer on your thighs. “The black hair suits you better though, especially for those beautiful eyes. Never seen ones like ‘em.”“Levinson really-“ Sam began but you interjected.
“I bet that’s what you tell all your girls, huh?” You replied with a smirk. The group of guys still sitting at the counter choked on their drinks as their eyes widened. You could feel Sam smiling from next to you.
“Haha, very funny.” Ari replied, a bit more stern this time. “It has a 100% pass rate though.”“Change it to 99,” You shot back, “Welcome to the bottom 1%.” This again resulted in dead silence around the room. Ari gave you a smile.
“I’ll get to you eventually, beautiful.” He said, standing back up fully.
“Gonna have to get through Bucky to do that.” You replied.
“Is that a challenge?” Ari smirked down at you, biting his bottom lip. “I love a good challenge, sweetheart.”
“More of a factual statement,” You said, leaning on the counter towards him. “I would say more an impossibility.”“We’ll see about that,” Ari said, grabbing his bag of the floor and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.” He added with a smile and wink before he departed down the hall and towards the stairs.
“Is he always like that?” You turned to Sam with a look of slight disgust. But Sam looked a little more worried than that.
“Kinda,” He replied, “Just not that persistent.”
“Oh?”“Means he actually wants to get to you,” Sam explained, “We won’t let him. But don’t tell Bucky, yet at least. Not sure Ari’s ego can protect him from your brother’s fist.”
You had actually frequented parties back at your last school. So standing here now on a Friday night with a red solo cup in your hand filled with mystery seltzer didn’t feel all that foreign. The only difference this time, however, was that you didn’t have your traditional friend group surrounding you. Instead you were talking to the occasional one or two guys on the team who would inevitably find a girl to their liking to go and coerce into their bed. Then when they left and you got bored of standing in the corner alone, you would go and bother Bucky who was going between working behind the bar and talking to his girlfriend, Natasha. If Bucky was too busy you went and talked to Nat and her friends, who were incredibly sweet and gracious with you even though you constantly felt like an intrusion.
“You need something?” Your brother asked, craning his neck back to see you. His front was facing a line of girls waiting for their fixing of cheap beer he was pouring into cups. You shook your head. “Bored again?” You nodded. “Why don’t you go talk to Nat? She loves talking to you.” You rolled your eyes.
“I feel like an intrusion, Bucky.” You replied, now standing next to him and taking a sip of your drink. “Like I know her friends are only a year older than me but it feels different.” Bucky huffed, handing the girl in front of him another drink.
“You can always head up to my room if you want.” You nodded hoping that was the answer he would give.
He quickly dug in his back jean pockets for his keys, fishing them out and handing them to you. “Just lock the door behind you, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “And I’ll text you when I’m on my way up. Don’t answer the door for anyone that knocks.” You nodded again, thanking him and making your way back through the crowded bodies tucked shoulder to shoulder with one another.
Thankfully the guy guarding the stairs recognized you as you held up Bucky’s key. He smiled with a nod, letting you by and away from the extremely crowded dance floor and blaring music.
As you walked down the hall you could hear laughter from a few of the rooms, and most definitely fucking from others. You rounded the corner to where Bucky’s room was, stopping at the end where his room stood and placing the key in the fob. As you twisted it to the side, you couldn’t help but to overhear another door down the hall opening. You looked up briefly, to see Ari standing there arms crossed as he leant on the trim of the door.
A drop dead gorgeous brunette girl walked out. She looked young, easily a freshman. You questioned if she was even that or maybe a senior in high school with a repeated excuse as to why she didn’t have a student card of valid ID with date of birth, but insisting she was 18. She was slim, a size four around the waist on a bloated day for her. She managed to have great boobs, and beautiful long hair. She could’ve been mistaken for a model for all you knew.
He gave her a signature smile, she asked him if he would call her.
“Of course, sweetheart.” He said but you could hear the emptiness in that from a mile away.
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and ran off down the stairs, her hair slightly frizzy and makeup now ever so smudged. You sighed to yourself. How nice it must be to casually get guys like that and have the nativity to not know A. He would never call you back and B. He would pretend he had never met you even if you saw him again. Your attachment issues could never.
You pushed the door open, stepping one foot in when your name was called. “Y/N, right?” You heard someone approaching. You looked up to see Ari standing maybe four feet away. You nodded. “What’re you doing up here, all alone?” He asked and you shrugged.
“Bored.”“There’s a party going on downstairs, you know that right?” He asked with a smile and light laugh. You nodded.
“Parties aren’t fun unless your at least three shots in and surrounded by people you actually know, and like.” You replied, “I am in none of those situations right now.” He gave a tight smile and nod. “You seem to be having fun.” You motioned back down the hall to his door. He let out a hearty laugh.
“Wanna take some guesses?” He asked, taking a few steps closer to you so now you were within a foot of each other. He towered over you, arms crossed leaning against the wall.
“Not really, no.” You said in all honestly. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I mean, I don’t really do that stuff. I wouldn’t really have a clue.”“What, like sex?”“Yeah, and in turn hookups.” You replied. You were giving away way too much information right now. You blamed it on the few drinks in your system.
“You’re too pretty to have not had sex yet.” You scoffed.
“Please,” You nearly laughed, “I’m a six on a good day and I’ve come to terms with that. You just got with an eleven on a bad day. Don’t talk to me about that.” You replied, having had enough of this conversation and heading into Bucky’s room, before you could fully close the door though his hand was on it.
“Were you an ugly kid?” He asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth a face of regret took over.“What the fuck did you just ask me?” You looked at him confused as hell, hand still on the door and moving to slam it. He held that attempt back to.
“No I mean- shit, not like that.” He pleaded, one foot in the one the other out to prevent any other tries at closing the door. You rolled your eyes at him. “I mean- I was one. And it took me a while to realize that I got better looking as I got older, and now I can sleep with gorgeous women and feel like an equal to them.”
You looked at him with complete and utter disbelief. There was no way this Greek God of a man was seriously telling you how it feels to be attractive enough to sleep with whoever you want. Especially considering your struggle to find a halfway decent guy to call your first boyfriend, and your virginity that was still hidden deep somewhere in you. “Alright, nice talk, champ. That’s enough for tonight.” You said trying to close the door but his body blocking it. “If you don’t move I’m going to yell bloody murder.”“Uh huh, I would like to see that.”“You really want Bucky and Sam to come up and deal with you?” You asked, this time with a dead serious tone and expression. “Oh, and Steve when he gets back.” Ari took a long, hard look at you before backing away.
“Okay, fine. I was trying to start a conversation and fucked up. I’m sorry for implying you were an ugly kid.” He said with a sigh, standing outside the door still.
You had every right to slam it in his face, in fact you thought you should’ve. But he did seem genuinely apologetic, and for a guy that seemed as douchey as him, you assumed that took a lot of effort.
“Fine, I forgive you.” You replied.
“Thank you,” He said back, leaning on the doorway again. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do anything given your- situation.”“Watch it.” You wanted, motioning to the door as you silently implied your ability to slam it right in his face at any given moment.
“But, would you like to chill out with me?” He asked, “Someone’s gonna come knocking on Barnes door soon enough begging to fuck in there and I don’t want you to have to fend for yourself in that situation.” He explained, “I’ll strip my sheets now, I have a chair you can sit on and a TV in there. We can just listen to music, chill. I don’t care if you want to sit on your phone the whole time and ignore me. Hell, I’ll give you a charger. But you are a teammates sibling, and I want to know you’re okay.”
So Ari Levinson now cared about you? The same dude you flirted in front of the majority of the team today, who just walked out with a model-level girl he would never talk to again? And he was worried about you right now, and seemed at least halfway genuine? You sighed.
“Fine,” You said, closing the door behind you and re-locking it. “But no funny business.”“None,” He swore, giving you firm eye contact. “I swear.”“Good,” You nodded at him, “And I will not be sitting on your bed regardless of the sheet situation.”“Aw honey, it wasn’t like I actually fucked her.” He explained, “She just sucked me off.” You gave a fake gagging sound.
“I think I would rather jump off the balcony here than get on my knees for you.” You replied. He gave you a smile.
“Eh, you would be surprised.”
Ari was shockingly… normal. He was actually just a chill guy with good music taste. That shocked you the most. He admitted a lot of his playlist was filled with modern rap because that’s what a lot of the guys listened to but he preferred 80s and 90s rock and alternative. It was what he had grown up listening to with his parents and something you quickly bonded over.
You had begun to talk a bit about relationships. He had opened up with how he had broken up with his long term girlfriend six months prior and was still reeling from a chunk of the effect and realizing how surface level the entire relationship felt. He also added how hook ups were easier. No commitment, he could focus on hockey and school.
“What about you?” He asked, “What lucky guys have been with you?” You scoffed.
“I’ve talked to a couple guys,” You explained, “But nothing really serious. I got my first kiss, date, all that stuff out of the way senior year of high school before college. First going beyond first base in freshman year. Talked to a guy long term last semester but it didn’t really work. I’m just kinda waiting for the right person but I also know I’m too ambitious for my own good when it comes to relationships.”“Oh, how so?” He asked, leaning on his bed as you sat in his swivel chair by his desk.
“I just- I focus so much on school and extracurriculars that I don’t really have time for a boyfriend. I want one, but I also am not great at talking to guys either. Flirting is my worst enemy.” You said, “My last kiss was over a year ago.” He nodded slightly, almost in a sympathetic way.
“I don’t think you’re the problem.” He mentioned next, looking over at where you sat. “I mean, you really are stunning. You’re incredibly smart. Bucky always tells us how much of a hard worker you are, and how you go out and are a social butterfly. Just- at our age, not many guys are looking for commitment. And it sucks for girls like you but give it a few years.” You groaned, throwing your head back.
“Everyone says that and I’m so sick of it.” You told him, “But then I look at Bucky, and he and Nat have been going strong for over a year now.”
“Bucky is also a really special guy,” Ari mentioned, “Listen, he and I aren’t all that close but everyone on the team is close to an extent. We travel together, play together, practice together, get meals together- hell we live together. And he really is a great guy. You’re very lucky to have him as a brother.”“I know,” You replied with a tight smile, “He’s one of my best friends and I’m very grateful to have someone like that who’s just built in to my life.”
“He really looks up to you, ya know.” Ari said, smiling at you. “Even though you’re younger he’s always bragging about your accomplishments and how smart you are. I mean, you are going to an amazing school. I remember when you got in he was practically jumping up and down and telling everyone.” You smiled to yourself knowing that you reacted the same way when he got into his dream school for hockey. “You’re really special, Y/N. And don’t ever let a guy, especially one like me, take that from you or tell you otherwise.”
“Thanks Ari.” You replied, smiling up at him. “You know you’re not as tough as you seem. You should let some more people see it sometimes.”“I only let people I really, really like past that part of me.” He said, “There aren’t many.”
Just as he finished saying that a string of absolute banging punches came at the door. “Shit.” He murmured, getting up.
You backed away on the chair as Ari opened up the door to reveal a seething and red Bucky. “Why the fuck is she in here?” He demanded, pushing Ari back. Despite Ari having at least a couple inches on Bucky, he nearly fell back onto his bed having to catch himself in midair.
“Barnes we didn’t do anything-““Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, Sam now rushing into the room. He tried to grab Bucky by the arms but was thrown off with ease and went tumbling back almost falling into the door.
Bucky through all his rage and might managed to get Ari pinned up against the nearest wall, his hands in fists around the collar of his shirt. “If you fucking touched her-“You had had enough of his behavior, getting up and marching over to stand right behind him. “Bucky, he didn’t dot anything. We didn’t do anything.” You clarified. Bucky looked back at you, face scrunched in pure anger, loosening his grip only a bit on Ari. “I swear, you know I wouldn’t do anything. I haven’t. Let alone with one of your teammates.”
It took Bucky a second to realize what you were saying, but as soon as he did he let go of Ari. “Look at her again, and you’re dead.” He said, firmly pointing to Ari who was still against the wall with his finger in his face. Ari couldn’t even respond before Bucky was dragging you out by your upper arm and back to his room.
You had gotten a very stern talking to that night about the dangers of Ari. Bucky was still fuming, but at least he had kept his voice down to a not-yelling level. It didn’t help all that much that you were fighting back some, because at this point you were arguing to a brick wall. But at least you were able to clarify that nothing had actually happened, and Bucky seemed to believe you. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to keep Ari as far away from you as possible.
It was their Saturday game where you found yourself sitting next to Nat in this cold arena. You had learned over the many years of attending Bucky’s hockey games how to layer and do it properly. Leggings were always a go-to, with a team t-shirt as well. Bucky had let you borrow a quarter-zip he had from last year with your last name embroidered into the top left corner. It’s size made it incredibly cozy and warm, especially right now. Nat was in his jersey, and had every right to be. Wearing a guy’s jersey was girlfriend code, not younger sister code.
The two of you were watching them practice a bit before the game. Bucky would give you two the occasional smile, you would do it back. What you didn’t expect, however, were the occasional but very prominent glances over at you by Ari.
“So, you and Levinson?” Nat asked from next to you. Her tone of voice indicated her genuine curiosity, non-judgmental, and ‘I won’t tell Bucky’ attitude of girl code. But your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they gave a roll. “Oh c’mon, there’s at least chemistry there.”“Uh huh,” You sarcastically replied, still watching Bucky glide across the ice. All these guys made it look too damn easy. “There’s nothing between Ari and I, really.”“You do know everyone heard about Buck’s little show down with him, over you, right?” She asked next. You groaned in frustration.
“It wasn’t even that!” You fired back, “I literally hung out with him for like an hour or two. That was it. Nothing else. I’m a virgin, Nat, you know that. I’m not going to just give that away to a guy like Ari.” You replied. She gave a tight smile in defeat.
“All I was going to say is Ari really isn’t that bad.” She replied. You looked over at her with a face scrunched in confusion. “He had a long term girlfriend. Like a solid two years. Treated her like a princess, really. Paid for everything, showed her off at every game like she was the trophy. Hell, he even posted her on his Instagram. An Instagram that has been a valley on emptiness since high school.” She crossed her arms, her own eyes now looking at them. “Listen, don’t tell Bucky I said this, ever, but if he offers you his number or anything… I would take it.”
You didn’t have long to think about what she had just said when the buzzer went off announcing the game had started. All the guys went back to their bench, taking their respective spots and fumbling with their mouth guards. You gave a deep sigh.
The game started and was going well in their favor. This was by no means shocking, this lineup happened to be one of the best teams in the country this year at the college level. You watched Bucky strategically on defense, a perfect fit for him. He always knew when he needed to get aggressive and not, a strength not many of these guys had at quite the same level he did. You and Nat gave each other a high five and a cheer every time he successful blocked an opposing member from even getting close to their goalie, or when he flawlessly recovered a failed attempt at a shot back to an offensive player.
When the final buzzer rang, the boys were up by four points. The all gave each other small hugs on the ice, walking off a moment later with smiles and walking back to the locker room. You and Nat walked over to their side of the ice, patiently waiting a good distance down from the locker room. This allowed for crew to come in and out and start cleaning up after the game with the already crowded hallway.
It took 20 or so minutes for Bucky to come out first with Sam by his side. You gave them both big smiles as they came up to you and hugged you. “Thanks for coming out, Little Barnes.” Sam said, letting you go from a powerful hug.
“No problem,” You smiled up at him, “I love watching you guys play. It’s very fun to see men want to shove each other with some class over a rubber puck.” Bucky rolled his eyes.
“You did great.” Nat smiled, leaning onto Bucky’s arm as he gave her a kiss on the top of the head.
“You ready to head out?” Sam turned to Bucky and asked him. He nodded. “Wanna come with?” He turned back to you. Before you could even respond, Bucky was speaking.“She’s coming,” He said matter-of-factly. “And don’t even try and worry about getting in underage, we know everyone there. It won’t be a problem.”
“Are you actually gonna let me drink?” Was your next question.
“Don’t act like you don’t do it every weekend,” He replied, starting his walk towards the door with Nat under his arm. “I see your Instagram stories.”
You rolled your eyes and followed right behind, Sam next to you. “Can I use the bathroom real quick?” You asked, all of them nodded.
“We’ll meet you at the car, you know where it is right?” Sam asked and you nodded, jogging off to the side area where the bathrooms were.
As you walked back out, still shaking your hands a little to let them air dry more, you looked over to see Ari standing about fifteen feet down, surrounded by a group of three girls nonetheless. He had that signature smirk on his face that would make any girl really believe he was falling in love with them when all he wanted was a solid fuck and a quick goodbye.
All three of them giggled in sync at whatever he was saying, one of them getting closer to him every couple of seconds. He was just a woman magnet, and while you didn’t blame any of those girls for finding him attractive, their desperation was a bit embarrassing.
You chose not to think much of it, walking off and towards the front door of the arena to walk out and find Sam’s truck. Just before you approached the door, you heard someone call your name. You knew better than to turn around, but your instinct kicked in without any thought. And there stood Ari Levinson.
“Hey,” He said, standing there for a moment as if you were going to continue a conversation you hadn’t even started, “Uh, thanks for coming out.”“I was here for Bucky.” You quickly replied, pointing to the last name on your sweater.
“Well, I mean- yeah I knew that-““It’s what you tell every girl that comes to these games, right?” You said with a tight smile, “I saw you talking to your groupies back there.” He took a sigh to himself, looking down at the floor for a moment with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair fell a bit beyond his ears and over his forehead, him having to push it back as soon as he looked at you again.
“I really hate how you read me like an open book.”“I’m an English major, what can I say.” You immediately replied, letting him have a quick second to respond, and a quick second he left empty. You started to walk towards the door. “I gotta go, Buck’s waiting for me-“
“Can I get your number?” He asked next. You turned around to face him again with a confused look on your face. “Please?” You sighed out loud.
“For what exactly?” You asked. “I have nothing you want. I’m not going to have sex with you, or suck your dick for that matter.”“I don’t want you for sex and you know that.” He semi-aggressively stated, “I just- need someone to talk to sometimes. And you seem to be really good at listening and advice and all that stuff.”“Really?” You asked, even more confused than before. He nodded. “I’m not a therapist Ari.” He groaned out loud, letting his head fall back in frustration.
“I know just-“ He started, now approaching you and leaning down to whisper something. “Listen, I like you. More than other girls. I want to get your number to know you better, ya know, talk?”
“Could you say it louder for the people in back?” You smiled at him as he let out a very hearty sigh.
“Fine, I give up-““Just give me your phone.” You said, sticking your hand out. He gave you a look of slight disbelief. “I will give you my number.” He quickly dug the device out of his sweatpants pocket and handed it over. As soon as you typed it in, you handed it back.
“When do you leave?”“Tomorrow.”“Of course.” He sighed, pocketing his phone again. “You got any time to see me?”“What? For a date?”“Yeah, exactly that.” He replied, “We can do what you want. Coffee, lunch, I don’t care.”
“A coffee is fine.” You said back, “I’m leaving at 10. Meet me at 10:30 somewhere?”“I’ll text you the details.”
A/N: I got this idea today and spent hours just writing this. Frat boy Steve is just such an interesting character and honestly, I think I might do more one-shot, small stories with him depending on the reception of this story. Hope you guys enjoy!
Pairing: Frat!Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word count: 6,017 words
Warnings: Groping/sexual assault (big trigger), swearing, mentions of hazing, alcohol
Summary: Steve's fraternity takes everything seriously (as they should). They don't mess around with anything happening to any girl on their watch. But what happens when a girl in a sorority they're close with, who happens to be the one Steve watches over, finds herself in an extremely drastic, upsetting situation?
Steve didn’t really want to be here. But he also understood the deeper importance of this whole operation set up by a group under risk management. No one here wanted any girl to get hurt, let alone one in the sorority they happened to partner with the most. A girl getting hurt at the frat party they hosted because there weren’t more precautions was Greek life suicide. It was practically a frat digging their own hole, six feet deep.
“Rogers you’re on-“
“Y/N.” He finished before Sam could finish his own sentence. It was the same girl for every event, something that he had grown fond of the more he had gotten to know you. Not that you really needed him, the feisty little thing you were. Most of the time when a “problem” came up (AKA a random guy harassing you) you stood up for yourself with ease. Quick remarks and a heavily judgmental face were all you needed to fend off most guys.
His fondness of you would have not been known, however, if it wasn’t for Bucky in the corner with a smirk on his face staring at Steve, and in return guys around him catching on with small smiles at Steve. He really had to hold back a eye roll, knowing that would only entertain them more.
“Again, if you need to go do something where you can’t see the girl you’re assigned to, you ask another brother. Got it?” Everyone replied with a simple “got it” somewhat out of sequence. “Now don’t fuck up tonight. Some of you have gotten way too close to losing a girl. Don’t let it happen.” Everyone nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”
Steve got up similarly with Sam, gathering up the papers that outlined this meeting. Bucky made his way over, filing through the various guys either talking, heading towards the door, or up to their rooms. Despite the whole idea of “brotherhood” no one ever thought of helping Sam and Steve clean up after these, excluding Bucky. “You guys ready for tonight?” Bucky asked. Sam was quick to speak up.
“Never.” He replied, “I swear if I see one more drunk girl on our porch sobbing over her ex-boyfriend I’m going to resign.” Steve chuckled. “Hey, don’t be laughing when you always get the easy one to deal with.”
“Yeah, Y/N actually helps those girls. Makes our lives easier.”
Steve could recall many times you happened to be at their parties, walking outside to get a breath of fresh air. You were always overwhelmingly kind to the pledges they had on “this door is not an entrance duty”, sometimes even aiding them in telling guys to fuck off. Then you would inevitably see a girl on the ground crying her heart out, and not only offer your time but usually your lap to let her cry into. Steve recalls one time when you actually got thrown up on by another one of your sorority sisters who was going through an awful breakup with a guy who didn’t deserve to see the light of day after all the shit he pulled on her. That ended with you in his room with a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts on.
“Thanks again, Steve.” You said with a smile so big it gave away any indication of soberness. “These sweatpants are very comfy.” He smiled softly back at you.
“Any time.” He replied, “I wasn’t gonna have you walking around in those clothes.” You nodded at him.
“Could I stay up here for another minute or two?” You asked, “I don’t mean to intrude but I’m kinda overwhelmed with downstairs-“ He nodded before you could even finish your sentence. His room happened to be incredibly well kept for a frat guy, especially since it actually smelled decent. A made bed, clean desk, the only clutter were the piles of text books stacked in a corner and a couple different papers here and there.
“Of course.” He replied quickly. You nodded back, “Do you need water or anything?”
“A water would be great actually if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not,” He smiled, “I’ll be right back, stay put sweetheart.”
It was the sweetheart that really took your breath away. I mean, Steve had always been the type that was just pure eye candy. Every girl left and right at least acknowledged that they would like to have something with him through small moments when their eyes laser-focused on him. Some even being drawn closer to where he stood, typically near a wall talking to Bucky or Sam with a drink in his hand. But here he was acknowledging some form of admiration towards little old you. The girl who was found at parties and was secretly looking at guys, but was too busy with her friends to realize it wasn’t that they didn’t like her back, she just never gave any signals.
That night ended up with the two of you staying in his room and talking until the early morning hours when you finally declared that you needed to go back to your apartment, especially while your roommates were flooding your phone with every form of communication to make sure you were okay. Steve was quick to order you a car and pay for it, even after offering to have you stay in his bed and he would take the couch. But you were sobering up and knew going home was a better option. Sleeping in the bed of the guy you happened to really like was enticing, but far too quick for you.
“How many guys do we think we’ll let in tonight?” Bucky asked. He happened to pretty consistently be on entrance duty, considering he could quickly put on a harsh and powering demeanor to tell guys to leave and never come back if he needed to.
“Hopefully not many,” Sam replied with a sigh, “Let in any guy that you know, and depending on how many girls we have, let in a couple more. But you already know the ratio.”
“75 to 25.” Bucky smiled a bit, leaning against the doorframe to the chapter room.
Steve was placing the final folding chairs in the closet of the room, the key in his pocket ready to lock up. “You sure you doing alright?” He heard Bucky come up behind him. It just happened that Bucky knew Steve better than he knew himself at times, a blessing and curse the two of them had learned to live with through their years together.
“Yeah.” Steve nodded, grabbing the key from his pocket and turning it in the lock. Giving it one solid pull and the door not budging, Steve placed the key back in his pocket and began walking towards the stairs, Bucky right next to him.
“Ya sure? You seem a little nervous.” Steve held back a scoff that would have worked on anyone else, but not Bucky.
“Not sure nervous is the right word.” Steve countered, checking the time quickly on his watch. Two hours til doors opened.
“About Y/N?” Bucky asked. Steve sighed.
“She’s-“ He began, stopping himself as his thoughts were running in all different directions. “Buck, you know I’m not good with women.”
“Yeah, and you’re into a girl who doesn’t think she’s good with men.” He softly chuckled, Steve scrunching his eyebrows. “Trust me, I’ve talked to enough of the girls when they’re drunk and I’ve heard all about her drunk thoughts. She has no confidence with men.”
“She’s stunning.”
“I know, but women get called ugly once and it’s all over, man.” Bucky explained as the two began to head up the stairs, “Just be genuine, not over pushy, just nice and respectful. She thinks any attractive guy that talks to her is doing it as a joke.”
“She seems so confident.”
“She is until it comes to men.” Bucky said, “Trust me on this, I’ve had three different drunk girls in that sorority tell me the same thing. But they’ve also told me she’s super into you. Take that for what you will.” He left down the hall towards his own room with a smile.
Steve had his eyes on you from the moment you walked in. Fashionably late as always, and clearly having pregamed a decent bit, or else you wouldn’t be dancing so freely and up against a friend like no one was watching. He was hoping no one was, but him.
That damn tight crop top really pushed your breasts up to a point where he questioned if one wrong move would even hold them in. And the tight shorts that shaped your figure perfectly left just enough distance covered on your upper things to wonder how they looked underneath. Your makeup was consistent and natural, except for your eyeshadow which you always put glitter on. By the end of the night your mascara would be smudged and lipstick nonexistent, and even then you made that look curated and like you were made for it.
“You gonna go talk to her or keep staring?” Sam came up with a smile, drunkenly dancing his way through the crowd. For a fraternity president, he was oddly charismatic to everyone and hadn’t established a superiority complex over the title. Steve gave him an eyeing glance.
“Letting her have her fun.” He justified.
“Hm.” Sam questioningly asked looking back at her, drawing Steve’s attention back to you as well. There was a guy clearly trying to dance with you, nearing a desperate level. You didn’t really notice until he got a little too close, which resulted in him getting a really passive aggressive look from you of pure silent judgement that was borderline screaming at him. Steve let it be. If he touched you, then it would be a problem. But Steve knew you could handle yourself, very well actually.
Sam trusted Steve, more than any other guy here. Even Bucky, who would occasionally let his guard down if a pretty enough girl came up to him. But Steve- he would completely ignore the prettiest girl in the world if it meant someone else was in trouble.
You weren’t really sure which drink you were on, but at this point you didn’t really care. The mediocre tasting seltzer in your hand had the after taste of gasoline, but it was making you feel even better than before, which was enough justification for your already intoxicated mind and body to keep drinking them. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Steve against one of the walls talking to Sam. You turned more towards that way to observe them. Steve’s tight dark blue shirt and jeans were making your mind react in only instinctual ways. A blush crept on your face making it even more red on top of your makeup and the heat from dancing shoulder to shoulder with other people. Your thighs tightened together as you bit the inside of your cheek.
But Steve Rogers was way out of your league. Whether you were drunk or sober, you knew you were simply not pretty enough to get him. Well, that’s at least what your mind was convincing you. All your friends always gawked over how gorgeous you were, and how you could pull him. But the ghost of ugly girls pasts kept you from advancing in the realm of Steve Rogers and stayed at bay with the weird barely friendship you two had established.
Besides, most guys just wanted to fuck you once and leave. Not that Steve seemed the type to do that, but you couldn’t tell nowadays with the number of guys who had said no to you after disclosing you wanted more than just sex.
“Babe!” You heard one of your friends shouting over the music. You turned to her, “Let’s get another drink!” Pulled out of your trance you nodded, grabbing her hand and weaving your way through the crevices between sweaty bodies dancing like no one was around them. You patiently waited in the line for the bar still swaying your hips back and forth to the fading music, mouthing the words you knew in the song.
A hand on your shoulder pulled you away from the mind-lifting music and into a face-to-face situation with a guy you had already dealt with tonight. Clearly, your glaring at him wasn’t enough for him to acknowledge that you had no interest in him. “What do you want?” You asked with an annoyed expression, your tone of voice accenting that.
“Damn, why are you being so mean?” He asked, “I’m just interested in you, why’re you in such a bad mood, baby?” You got a large amount of ick from the conversation alone, but the detail of ‘baby’ only set your annoyance off even more.
“I don’t owe it to be nice to a guy I’ve never met,” You explained, “Let alone one who I’m not attracted to. At all.” You made it very clear. “Now if you’ll excuse me-“
“What, you got a boyfriend or something?” He snarked back, getting closer to you.
“Like that’s any of your business.” You countered, “Now fuck off because you’re not getting anything out of me, ever. I wish you luck on finding any pussy tonight, you’re definitely going to need it.” You didn’t even notice the crowd swarming around you but a sudden eruption of “oohs” took over and made you realize that you had successfully publicly humiliated another desperate guy. He gave you a look of fury and stormed off in another direction leaving his confidence and dignity in your back pocket.
Thankfully, the guy running the bar quickly recognized you. Being in a sorority had it’s many perks, but getting drinks at the bar of a frat you knew well was one of them. He immediately gave you a hefty pour and a smile, “That was badass.” He added on. You smiled back at him and took your drink, departing back to the dance floor with your friend.
As soon as you reentered, Steve had eyes on you again. You looked more annoyed than before, not an amazing sign, but according to a text he had gotten from Scott, who was bartending, you had just embarrassed a random dude in front of two dozen people flawlessly, and verbally kicked his ass. So your current state was by no means shocking.
He promptly decided this was his time to at least let you know he was here. He slowly guided his way through people, trying to not knock over girls while not really caring about the guys, and finally placed his hand on the small of your back. Bold, yes, but he didn’t want to completely startle you with a shoulder tap or yell.
“What the fuck-“ You quickly turned around with a face of once again annoyance, before realizing it was him. As soon as your eyes met his your face melted back into one of apology. “Oh my- Steve I’m so sorry!” You yelled over the music. He chuckled to himself, smiling at you.
“It’s okay,” He replied quickly, giving you a quick up and down now that he was closer to you. Your boobs somehow looked even better than before. He also had the realization that red truly was your color, it looked amazing with your skin tone and hair, and even better when it was tightly wrapped fabric around your chest. “I heard what happened at the bar, I understand.”
You groaned loudly, “So everyone saw that?”
“Not everyone, but a lot of people.” He smirked. “It’s alright, keep it up and we may just have to make you an honorary member.”
“Will I have to pledge?” You asked with a small smile, “That may be a deal breaker.”
“I would never let a woman go through what the pledges go through,” He explained, “Let alone a pretty one.” It just slipped out. You tried to hide the shock in your eyes with a smile on your face, but your brain was clearly malfunctioning when you heard that. “If you need anything tonight, you know where to find me.” He said, motioning towards the wall right next to the main entrance to the floor. You nodded as he gave you one more smile and left back to that area.
“He wants you so bad.” One of your friends quickly spoke up with a big smile, “His eyes were all over you, they were practically undressing you!”
“Yeah, that’s probably all he wants.” You replied knowing how guys were nowadays with relationships.
“Oh please, that’s Steve Rogers. Yeah, he could get whatever girl he wants, but the one he actually wants he’s gonna stay with.” She replied, “He’s the definition of a golden retriever, absolutely gorgeous and loyal as hell.”
Steve knew something was coming. His intuition read the room he was in and told him there was going to be something tonight. There was every night, it was just more a question of how drastic it was going to be. Judging by the fact the guys not in the frat were getting rowdy, the number of girls who had run past him with a friend to puke in the bathroom, and the growing line outside of underage first years who were apparently trying to start stuff with the door guys, it was just a matter of time until something boiled over its pot and into flames.
“What’s up?” He asked Sam who approached him with a stern face. Unlike earlier, soberness seemed to consume Sam as he stood next to Steve.
“Too many bastards harassing girls.” He sighed. “None with any of our girls that seriously, yet.” He emphasized. Steve nodded, going back to eyeing everyone on the dance floor, his eye now more narrowly looking than before. “Not sure how you could show up to someone’s else fraternity and be a dick like that. We don’t even do that in our own house.” Steve didn’t have a response for that question, but even if he did he was far too busy making sure any of the girls he knew didn’t find themselves in that situation. Specifically, you.
“Have we stopped letting guys in?” Steve asked, not changing his gaze away from the crowd.
“Yeah, a while back.” Sam replied, “A lot of them have been here since we opened though.” Steve chuckled.
“Desperation.” He smiled at Sam and Sam smiled back.
“Yeah, we got a lot of that tonight.” Sam sighed, turning over to the two of three couples of sorts making out in various corners. “Wish I had that much absence of dignity.” Steve smiled at that. If he was going to do anything with a woman it would never be this public. Two people were meant to have those moments together, not have the world there to frown down on it or comment on it. In his mind, this frayed some of the little purity left in relationships.
“Fuck,” He heard Sam mutter besides him, glancing at his phone. Steve gave him a questioning look, “Apparently the guys outside have made the mistake of not backing off of Barnes, gotta go aid.” Steve nodded as Sam departed the other way.
Steve’s heart sank as soon as he looked back to the floor and spotted you. The guy from earlier tonight, and the one he assumed had tried to talk to you at the bar, was now way too close to comfort. Within a second, Steve had begun navigating the floor knowing the loser wouldn’t leave you alone until someone else came in. His mind was busy with finding you, but his body was distracted by trying to get by people. Despite the fact he was known here, and the mass space his body took up, everyone was far too drunk to even take a slight hint he was there.
“Are you fucking crazy?” He heard a yell that he could easily identify was your voice. That cry for help put his mind in overdrive, and onto aggressive autopilot. Now he was shoving dudes left and right and could give a shit if he stepped on some girl's shoes. As soon as he found you, there was a small circle around you and the guy as you fired off insult after insult berating him. Steve was still lost at what was fully happening, or more importantly how the situation had escalated to where it stood now, but that was very quickly revealed in your unapologetic monologue.
“What the fuck made you think it was okay to grab my ass you dick!” Before Steve could even process fully what you had said, the clearly clueless culprit across from you responded, somehow thinking that was a good idea.
“With the shorts you’re wearing you’re basically asking for it!”
Now that set Steve off.
All you could see at this point was red, but before you even got a chance to slap this guy, he was pinned up against a wall. There was some yelling in the background calling for backup or something along those lines, but all you could focus on was Steve’s back flexing under his shirt that was far too tight for this moment and the side of his face showcasing a clenched jaw bone protruding past his skin and redefining his face into pure rage. “What the fuck did you just say to her?” He asked, holding onto the collarbone of the guys t-shirt in clenched fists, veins about to pop.
For the first time all night, the harassing dick was left truly speechless. “Say it one more time to me, huh? I fucking dare you.” Steve started again.
“Steve, let him go.” Sam’s voice bellowed behind you. It was an order, and one that took Steve a moment to process. He slowly dropped the guy and backed up only a step, letting him regain him place standing against the wall. He looked tiny compared to Steve. “He’s not worth it.” Sam said, approaching besides him. “Now you, get the fuck out and never come back.” Sam told the other guy, pointing firmly towards the door.
He seemingly put his hands up in surrender, before making yet again a dumb move. Possibly his most stupid of the night. “It was worth it.”
Not even a second later, the guy was on the floor, clutching his face as the crowd around you “ooh”ed yet again. This time not for you, but Steve. His right fist clung to his side as it had just been weaponized across the guy’s face and straight into his cheek and nose. The impact could be heard from the back of the room you bet, and left you speechless, mouth agape as you stared at your perpetrator on the floor, and back to Steve.
“Barnes, take Y/N upstairs. Now.” He looked back to where Bucky stood a few feet from you, he quickly nodded beelining to you and putting his arm around your waist.
“You alright, hon?” Bucky asked, but you were too entranced still with looking back at Steve. Despite Bucky moving you away and your feet following, you still stared back at Steve with the same expression of worry and surprise. It clearly took Steve a minute to figure out what exactly he had done, then he turned back to you.
As soon as your eyes met, his face relaxed. His brain was still furious, his body stiff with rage, but his face was now worried. He was able to at least know you would be safe with Bucky, you would either end up in his room or Steve’s, but either way you would be physically okay now. Then he turned back to Sam who already had guys escorting whatever the fuck he was out with firm shoves. “I need to check on her.” Was the first thing he could muster out and say.
“Calm down, Steve.” Sam tried to rationalize. “She’s with Buck, she’s okay.”
“I need to see her.” He said again.
“Steve,” Sam grabbed his arm this time, trying to pull him back to reality. “Go downstairs. Breath. Then come back and I’ll see what I can do.”
It took Steve another moment to process what Sam was saying, his vision still outlined with red. As soon as he understood, however, he nodded and made his way to the door. He couldn’t even bother to look at nor care about everyone staring at him, bodies making a very clear path for him to get by. He made it to the stairs, walking down slowly. The basement was empty, he was glad they kept it that way. There were a few old recliners here and there, a partially ripped couch, and some old photo albums and collages of pictures stacked in various places.
He took a seat in one of the old leather chairs, placing his head in his hands. He was always composed, had a clean record here from everything. He didn’t have an ounce of regret, at least yet, but he was aware of how escalated he made the situation. Though he wouldn’t change any moment of it. Other than protecting you from that happening in the first place.
He just wanted- needed you to be okay. He needed you. He had never acted this way with anyone else. Yes, he would stand up for any girl. But he wasn’t sure if he would fight for any girl other than you.
“Peter, water. Now.” Bucky demanded the smaller guy who stood in the doorway. He feverishly nodded before running off past the doorway and towards the stairs.
“Pledge?” You asked Bucky. He smiled.
“How did you know.” You lightly laughed, sitting on his bed in his slightly messy room. It was actually very nice for a frat room, but for a regular room, subpar. His walls were decorated here and there with nearly nude women who either had advanced plastic surgery or had a poor editor somewhere slaving over Photoshop for hours to make them look better than Barbie. His bed was honestly not all that comfy, and you wouldn’t have been shocked if the mattress under the comforter and sheets had been hand-me-down in the frat for years.
“How are you feeling?” He asked with genuine concern.
“Alright,” You said with a shaky breath, “Just- shocked, I think.” He softly smiled, kneeling down in front of you to be on your eye level.
“Can I get you anything else? I can order you food, if you wanna lay down that’s fine too-"
“No, Buck. It’s okay, really.” You lightly smiled. You had suddenly very much sobered up. “Maybe food in a bit. Though I don’t know how much I can eat right now.” He sympathetically nodded. The room fell silent for a few seconds. “Where’s Steve?” You asked. Before Bucky could even acknowledge what you had asked, Peter came back.
“Here’s the water for you,” He said handing to Bucky, “James Buchanan Barnes.” You had to hold back a laugh as Peter exited the room again. Bucky handed you the water.
“Do you really make pledges call you guys by your full names?” Bucky nodded with a small smile.
“Tradition.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Steve is downstairs I think, basement.” Bucky replied, “That’s where Sam sends guys when they need to calm down.”
“So this shit happens frequently?”
“No, and you know that.” He playfully said back, sitting next to you on the bed. “But sometimes stuff happens between guys. So it's a decompression area. Not much down there, so it’s nice if anyone needs to punch something.” You nodded.
Another minute of silence fell between the two of you. You sipping the water from the red solo cup, Bucky looking around the room and back at you every once in a while.
“You know Steve really likes you.” Bucky pointed out. You gave him a confused face. “He would kill me for telling you, probably will. But he really likes you, more than any other girl I’ve seen. And I’ve seen lots of women around him.”
“You’re joking.” You replied, “That’s cruel, Bucky."
“No, I would not lie to you.” He replied seriously, “Especially after tonight.” You looked up at him again, eyes meeting in a silent lock of sorts. “Just trust me, give him a chance. I know you like him too. Be the first move, it’ll pay off. Trust me.”
There was a soft knock at the door, its hinges creaking as it opened and Sam walked in. He gave you a soft smile. “We wrapped up the party.” Sam said, “Not many people left over down there anyways.” You cringed a bit to yourself, but before you could say anything Sam continued, “And don’t you dare apologize, it’s not your fault. At all.”
Bucky’s hand grazed your back in a circular motion, a silent agreement with Sam. “You can wait in his room if you want,” Sam mentioned, “Or stay here.”
“No, I want to see him.” You replied, “I can uh- head over there.” You told Sam, getting up and turning to Bucky where he still sat. “Thanks again, Bucky. Really.”
“Least I could do.” He insisted with a tight smile, “Good luck.”
Sam led you to Steve’s room even though you already knew where it was. His was a corner room, vice president privileges you supposed. He opened it with a spare key, letting you in and turning on the light. It was kept as it always was. It smelled like soft cologne that didn’t sting the corner of your nostrils when you inhaled. Like mahogany, whiskey, and a hint of vanilla. What he always smelled like.
His bed was strictly made, making you hesitant to sit on it despite Sam telling you it was more than fine. It would crease it, and you weren’t sure if that was more of an invasion than what you had already been. The bed was shockingly comfortable, clearly a new mattress and topper. His closet doors were closed, and a laundry hamper next to it was only half full. His desk was clear except for a lamp in the corner, a closed laptop in the center, and a notebook next to that with two or three pens. His walls were pretty bare, which honestly made you feel uncomfortable. You thought it was better than Bucky’s walls scattered with various unrealistically perfect and nearly naked women, but the walls in the bedroom of your apartment were scattered with posters and pictures.
He had exactly three pictures in the room. One on his nightstand of him, Sam, and Bucky with arms around each other and smiling on some form of a retreat or vacation. One of him and Bucky as little kids, no older than six or seven you guessed. And finally, one of him and his mom at some fancy event judging by her dress and his suit. He looked to be in late high school there.
He looked a lot like his mom. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Her face was much softer than his, which made sense judging by how muscular his body frame was built to be. She had a beautiful blue dress on that accented both of them well, him in a simple suit with a black coat, white shirt, and black tie. You knew he loved his mom dearly, especially since he was raised as a child with just her. You recall during one of those late night conversations it coming up. He talked so highly of his mom, the way he still called her multiple times a week just to talk and check in. Her food and the traditions the two had made for Christmas and Thanksgiving when they spent it alone. How much he hated leaving her for college, feeling like he abandoned her, but her reassuring messages over the phone saying anything but that. You wished you had a relationship like that with your mom, but then again, you had an amazing dad. You win some, you lose some, as you had always reminded yourself.
You were drawn away from your stare towards the photo on his desk as the door opened, and there stood Steve. His face was unreadable, something that scared you in the moment. “Hey, um I’m sorry, Sam suggested I wait here for you-"
Before you finished he was kneeling in front of you as Bucky did not so long ago meeting your eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked with such a genuine tone. His hand placed itself on your cheek, engulfing it. You nodded with a small smile.
“Yeah, I will be.” He took a small sigh looking down.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”
“Steve, no-“ You were quick to reply as he stood up.
“No, that should’ve never happened. And I should’ve been there to throw that guy out way earlier.”
“Steve, you did more than I could’ve asked for-“
“You shouldn’t have to ask me to do anything. I should be there to protect you, be proactive about it-"
You quickly stood up, interrupting his rant by grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him down as you stood on your tip toes to your best ability, placing your lips on his.
For a moment he was frozen, before realizing what was happening and kissing back. He quickly took one of his arms fallen at his side and wrapped it behind your waist, pulling you promptly so your body fell flush with his, pressed against his shirt. His other hand found the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair as one of yours found its way to his own. After a solid 10 seconds, you pulled away a bit, looking up at him as you caught your breath.
“I’m not drunk, I promise.” You told him, watching his wandering eyes scan your face. Without a word of response, he placed his lips on yours again moving synchronously. You reveled in the moment, feeling his body heat surround you, your senses at all new heights, his wandering finger tips on your back causing you to move even closer to him, a sign of encouragement. After a minute or two of the necessity of a make up session, a silent reconciliation and agreement that everything would be alright, you both pulled away.
Both of you smiled at the same time, then laughing a bit at that, and finally finding comfort in each other’s arms. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” You asked him. He looked down to you again with a small smile creeping on his face.
“Yeah,” He replied, “Tomorrow.”
Without a word more spoken, you sat back on his bed, removing your beer and dirt-stained shoes, he went to his dresser and grabbed one of his t-shirts and sweatpants, handing them to you. “I can change in the bathroom.” He insisted. You gave a small smile of appreciation as he left the room with his own change of clothes and closed the door.
You quickly removed the constricting top that had nearly become one with your skin, placing his shirt on and sweatpants. He came back with a knock, you replying with a “you can come in”.
He let you choose the side of the bed you wanted, which happened to be the one closer to the window. He climbed in next to you, allowing the small lamp in the corner to stay on but turning off the one next to him. There was distance at first, quickly closed by you as you rejected the pillow on your side for his chest, placing your head on it, one of your hands sprawling to the other side of him. He placed one of his hands on your back, pulling you tighter and beginning to trace small shapes on the fabric and to your skin. He gave you a soft kiss on your temple, holding it there for a few seconds.
A/N: I don’t know if anyone else has ever felt like this, but I remember someone once telling me something along the lines of, “You’re the girl boys are going to marry. Those other girls are the one’s they’re just playing with for now.” I’m not trying to put other women down at all, but I think I’ve struggled a bit with looking at relationships I’ve had in such a logical sense that I’ve never been able to truly apply myself or feel anything more than a sense of temporariness. So this is about the girls that boys marry, and giving all those girls a bit more peace of mind about their true potential.
Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader
Word count: 3,304 words
Warnings: Angst, panic attacks and anxiety, swearing
You had… struggled with men.
It wasn’t necessarily that you were the problem per se, it was more so that your expectations were. Even in your early 20s you had wanted so badly a boyfriend who was ready to settle down at least a bit, even if it only lasted two or three years. You would’ve never minded the weekend outings with his friends or the independence that most relationships were built on nowadays, but you at least expected some domesticity and consistency.
And according to everyone, especially your friends who were on boyfriend five or six by the age of 25, that wasn’t reasonable.
“Listen, Y/N,” Jessica said through the loud conversation of the bar you were in, music interrupting just a bit in the background. “It’s not that men don’t like you, or that you’re an undesirable person, it’s that they don’t want you right now.” “You’re the type of girl they’ll marry.” That was the key phrase, the one that had been repeated over and over to you. At this point you were sure it was being said solely because if your friends said it enough, they believed it would come through. You were also slightly relying on that theory too.
And sure, just looking at the men around your age in your life and backtracking their behavior and relationships could easily prove that theory. Most of the girls they dated didn’t last longer than a couple months, a year if they were somehow lucky enough to stick. They were usually more wild, wanted to go out every Friday and Saturday until they were completely wasted and walking through the streets of New York aimlessly. Nothing against them, that just wasn’t you.
“Gerard will inevitably go for you,” Georgie had said optimistically, “Just give him time, ya know? He’s going for crazy girls right now, give him another two years. Once men hit 30, they have a switch go off in their brains and suddenly all they want is to wife up the right woman, buy a house in a nice suburb, and trade in their fun car for a reliable 7-seater SUV.” You groaned a bit at the wait time she proposed and the generally unlikely thought that someone like him would actually date you, let alone marry you.
Sure your crush was relatively obvious, but that’s all it was. A crush. A stupid little liking because, yes, he was attractive, and you two seemed more than comfortable with one another. Only in those fantasy worlds you dream when trying to fall asleep would the two of you be married in a white picket fence house. To begin with, neither of you would completely apply themselves to that lifestyle, and Gerard was off in his own world doing his own things and would never think of you in a way that would allow for such a relationship to exist.
And now, sitting here in a club you didn’t necessarily want to be at, those worlds seemed to divide even more. You slowly sipped on your vodka Red Bull that was meh in the grand scheme of drinks you had drank in your years. Your friends sitting next to you at this round booth that was obnoxiously worn for how nice it looked were off in their own conversation about something you lost track off long ago. Your eyes were now far more focused on the way Gerard was interacting with his newest fling, whatever her name was. He was currently going through a stage of girls he found so disposable that you didn’t even have to know the names of them. Soon enough, they were gone too.
Your stomach only knotted itself in a more complicated tangle when her hands drifted around and to the back of his neck, using his slightly taller frame to balance herself with a stupidly innocent yet dangerous smile on his face, that judging by his smirk/smile combo he was eating up, unlike you. And finally, the way their bodies touched in such close proximity, his hands tightly grasping the hips of her tiny and snug dress, and their lips met it what seemed to be at least a halfway genuine kiss had caused your brain to enter overdrive.
You placed your glass down on the table, the outside now dewey from the contrast of how long it had been out to the growing heat with an obnoxiously large amounts of moving bodies everywhere. “Y/N-“ One of your friends called, trying to grab your attention.
“I need- air.” Was all you were able to muster out, grabbing your coat. Scrambling through these large bodies of people only made your emotions more spiked and generally freaked out, and finally by the end you were in a dark hallway leading to the exit. You marched towards it and outside.
You were hoping for some fresh air, but living in a big city held no such luxury. Instead, all you could smell was a nearby sewer, cigarette smoke, and some pizza place a couple storefronts down. None of this was helping.
After a moment of contemplation as to whether going back in there was a good idea, your minds reaction switched to a simple “run” and that led you marching home. You were grateful you had gotten over the “I want to look cute so I’ll wear high heels” phase of your life, because your tennis shoes right now were saving you from days of pain and blisters at the pace you were walking.
You weren’t sure anymore if you were running from the club itself and the atmosphere you could care less for, or him. This was a cycle that happened every time and everywhere you went with him. You would show up with your friends to clubs or bars thinking it was somehow, magically going to be different from the last time. Within an hour, you had left usually with the excuse you had a lot of work to do over the weekend (a very blatant lie) or that you just weren’t feeling well (code phrase for: I’m sick and tired of seeing him all up on other girls). You wanted tonight to be different though.
You had quickly decided to not respond to his texts. You would get home, text one of your friends letting her know you were safe, and turn off your phone for the night. You wouldn’t be the one to deal with his text messages that came flooding in about how much he adored you, how pretty you were, how he never wants to make you feel uncomfortable because you’re just such a special person to him. It was probably the adrenaline high, gaining mass amounts of validation from girls prettier than you, but you were over his tendencies to fuck with you and make you believe there was even a slight shot you had at a relationship with him. It was like he ignored your Monday movie nights which always ended up in you cuddling together, or every Wednesday when he would take you out to dinner just to “check in” since you were that important to him. But in moments like these, you realized you were the last thing on his mind. And that was the problem.
As soon as you got home you had followed the plan as created. Texting your friend to tell her you were at home and nothing had happened to you, and shutting off your phone loosely throwing it onto your bed. You slipped off your shoes and took off this stupid little back dress that you couldn’t help but wonder if you even looked good in anymore. He went with you to the mall when you found it. Called you gorgeous, and insisted you buy it, stating “that dress was made for you”. Clearly it wasn’t amusing anymore. You carelessly threw it on the floor of your closet next to old boxes of shoes and hoped it would be eaten by them and never seen again.
You decided on a quick shower, letting the steam and scorching hot water burn your feet a bit before stepping out and prepping your hair for the night. You decided on a sleep mask a friend had gotten you for Christmas from a store that specialized in products for sensitive skin, which unfortunately was perfect for you. Finally, you settled in bed with your computer, debating whether to find a good book or TV show.
Maybe a minor mistake. You quickly realized that your texts transferred over to your laptop, and now here you sat debating whether to open up the five unread messages from Gerard. You decided against it, despite the little red bubble in the corner of the icon that was obnoxiously yelling at you to open it up. But you had some element of self control even in an emotional state, and knew you couldn’t deal with a man child right now for your own sake.
You had curled up with an old comfort show of yours from when you were a kid. Your mind immediately flashed back to the couple of moments when you weren’t doing well, Gerard coming in to check on you and watching it with you. Despite it being a literal kids cartoon probably produced for seven year olds, he had no protests to your knowledge and seemed to enjoy it. But you quickly pushed those remaining thoughts out of your mind and tried to focus on the present itself.
You were nearly on the brink of falling asleep, having gotten through a good four or five episodes, your brewed and boiling tea now room temperature and the surface of the water now staining the inside of the mug where its edge met the ceramic. That was when you got the little ding on your computer, looking at the top right corner where your notifications came in.
“I’m outside your door,” The words flashing under the name Gerard Way made your eyes grow wide. “Please open up, I don’t want to knock and disturb your neighbors.” Oh, so now he’s being selfless, but only for your damn neighbors who you barely knew. You decided to leave it be, assuming he would leave soon enough.
“Open up. I will start knocking.” Was the next text. You scoffed at the tone of his message, coming off as a complete and utter dick. Which right about now he was.
Only 15 seconds later and the string of knocks came, literally not stopping.
Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock-
The man would not leave your door alone and was clearly unwilling to unwind his fist and take his ass home. You stomped out of bed and up to your door where you swung it open, to reveal Gerard there in that damn leather jacket you loved so much on him, hair in multiple different directions, and eyeliner beginning to smudge and look more like raccoon eyes. “What the fuck do you need.” Was all you stated as he tightly smiled at you.
“It’s nice to see you too,” Was all he could say, trying to casually step into your apartment but promptly being blocked by you moving in his way.
“If you need something right now, tell me. I’m not playing games.” He took a sigh, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms, clearly too oblivious to understand any ounce of the problem you were currently having with him.
“Why did you leave? Again?” He asked as if your want to leave a boring and shitty club was your fault.
“Are you for real right now?” You asked him with a scoff as he stood there in his self-righteous glory, “You do this every fucking weekend. Invite me out with our friends, leave me as soon as we get into the fucking place to go and hang out with- whoever your fucking now” He seemed intrigued by your tone judging by his face of amusement which only fired you up more, “And I’m left in the fucking booth with nothing to do.” “You could come out and dance with me-“ “Bullshit!” You immediately called, interrupted him, “Not when you have a girl pressed up so close against you that you would actually be fucking her had you not had clothes on.”
This time he seemed more startled by your outburst, “Listen,” You sighed a bit, trying to take a deep breath and calm yourself before your apartment manager was called by the neighbors. “I’m really done with this whole situation. If you’re not interested in me, genuinely, please just leave. I can’t deal with someone nagging me on like a dog with a bone, and expecting they’ll put as much thought and effort into this when they don’t. I get you’re still in your phase of experimenting with people, totally fine. But don’t play with me when you know I’m ready for something bigger and more permanent.” You gave him one more tight smile, the most genuine you could pull as he stood there in a bit of awe, “Goodnight, Gerard.”
You were closing the door when you felt a force push back, and this time Gerard actually managed to maneuver his way in. Before you could even process his presence, he had taken your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You froze for a good couple of seconds before giving in against every logical neuron firing their cannons in your brain, and kissing him back. It felt needed, so passionate and powerful that you felt your entire body heat up as if every blood vessel wanted to be known with a blush tone painting your skin.
As soon as he let you go to give you some breathing room, his hands still on your face, you pulled away. You only got a glimpse of his softened face and wide eyes before they turned to disappointment and face dropping in the same fashion. “D-don’t do that.” Was all you could mutter out, now on the brink of tears and choking on the sudden dryness in your throat. “I- we can’t- I can’t do this.”
You had felt your body go to its natural reaction when entering a panic attack, your face scrunching up so it turned sour, breathes beginning to stumble on each other, and body feeling like it was shaking. “Shit.” You heard Gerard mutter, feeling his arms wrap around you and slowly walking you to your couch.
You felt the cloth couch under you given that you were wearing loose shorts and Gerard let go of you which actually felt a lot better than the squeezing sensation against your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” You heard lightly through the pounding in your ear drums, “I need you to take deep breaths, count. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2…” The sequence continued as you slowly started focusing on your breath again and back to having relatively more control of your consciousness. As soon as you felt like you could speak again, you mumbled out.
“I- I’m s-sorry.” It was all you could say as your tears stained your face even more. It was a natural response for you to apologize for overly-showing emotions, despite years of therapists and others telling you it wasn’t something you should do.
“No, honey, it’s okay.” He reassured, placing his hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that and led you into a panic attack I- that’s so fucked up.”
“You didn’t mean t-to.” You managed to say out loud. The room was silent for a few more seconds, Gerard grabbing the TV remote and turning it on.
“Ah, perfect.” He said as your comfort show was of course the first thing that popped up. He hit play without asking for any permission. He got up, finding your pile of blankets on one of the chairs in the back corner of the living room, picking one out and coming back, draping it over the two of you. He was quick to place his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to find the comfort of his shoulder as a resting place for your head. He gave you a kiss on the head before whispering into your ear, “Anything else I can do?” You shook your head deciding you needed some more time to calm down before pursuing the serious conversation you were inevitably going to have tonight and just trying to enjoy the moment.
It all felt a bit surreal, and more like a movie. You had questioned if this was Gerard again just trying to keep you at bay, and if your words actually meant nothing to him but a manipulative tool to make sure you stayed. As your mind ran with this, you finally had to pop the question. “Are we doing this, yes or no?”
Simple as that and turning to him now more serious, he looked back at you, then at the TV with the remote to pause the show. It was a bit comical almost to see this very serious conversation was about to begin with a cartoon character in the background. “Do you want to?” Was all he asked back.
“I’ve wanted to for a while. It’s you I’ve been forced to wait for.” He smiled a bit at your response with it’s hint of snark, “And don’t just say yes to keep me, I can’t deal with this again. If you want to do this, you need to be 100% sure. If you need more time, you can take it. But I don’t want you to say yes for me, you need to say yes for you.”
He took another moment, his eyes scanning your face while his small smile still remained. “You know I would say yes to anything you wanted.” “Gee that’s not the point,” You argued back, “I don’t want to be stuck in a full blown relationship if you don’t want one. But I also don’t want to continue to play cat and mouse with you and be left waiting alone every night while you’re out with other girls. If you want me, you have all of me. If you don’t, you have none of me.”
You were finally turning the tables, letting him know how it was going to go. Finally taking control of this uncontrollable ship that was on its way to sink for a while. This was the sink or float moment.
He took a sigh, “I think I’m ready, if we’re being honest.” He admitted, “I’ve kind of realized how stupid it is to spend all this time with these girls who I know I’m never gonna be with in the long run. I would much rather spend it with someone I can picture marrying.”
Well that was a bomb if one was ever dropped. You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before he spoke up again. “Most of the girls I dated was to distract me from you, anyways. I think I was running more from the idea of commitment than I was from you. But I’m ready to settle down, call it quits. Just be normal.”
“You mean it?” Was all you could manage to respond with, “Please tell me you mean it.” “I never lie to you, sweetheart, you of all people know that.”
He wasn’t wrong. In your years long of friendship/flirty/kinda-dating-but-not-really-situationship he had never lied to you once. He had fucked with you a bit to keep you on edge with him, but never truly, fully lied. You hoped that this was no different.
“This better not be the first,” You said back, “Because I’ll give up anything and everything for you.”
A/N: I like really love this story, I don’t know where it sprouted from in my little brain but here we are. Also, forgot to update this on my last story, but guess who’s an official English major... me! So yeah, funny how all this fanfiction stuff kinda became a very real thing that I’m now doing in college. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this cute little story!
Pairing: Gerard Way (approx. red roots era) x F!Reader
Word count: 3,733 words
Warnings: Lots of fluffiness and love <3
Gerard had set pretty straight in his mind that women were not his priority right now.
I mean, realistically, with his track record and history of girlfriends he hadn’t always been the best boyfriend. He had always just chosen to invest a lot of hist time into things that were typically more independently minded, his work, projects, etc. A lot of things that just didn’t involve girlfriends and didn’t need to.
He had found this method worked pretty well, especially now while touring consistently for what was about the next year. Not having a girlfriend back home to worry about and call every couple of days was more than ideal and afforded him the luxury of the occasional, no-strings-attached hookups across the country. It let him focus on himself, the band, his career, music, even comics more than being committed to someone who, at the end of the day, probably was not going to work out given his scenario.
He didn’t necessarily think about it much, especially back stage as he was preparing to go on. It was a good two hours until it was their time, even as the opener, and sound check had gone all according to plan, but it’s better to be prepared far in advance than not prepared at all. He wasn’t do much heavy makeup tonight, unlike his usual looks, just some paler foundation and eyeliner. He figured the red roots of his shaggy hair added enough of an edge, and that any additional makeup might be overpowering.
“Hey guys,” One of the guys in the band that had graciously given them the opportunity to open for came in. He was the drummer, super nice and very generous guy as they all were. Gerard promptly turned his attention to him with a small smile as the rest of the room echoed their own greetings. “I just wanted you guys to meet my niece, she’s here for the show with some of her friends. Figured I would give her the whole backstage experience.”
Gerard was used to meeting new people all the time. Journalists, fans, he was meeting dozens of new people everyday and very few of their names, faces, voices, or anything particular about their identity stuck. He liked it that way, it kept him away from the theoretical “what ifs”.
But as soon as he saw you, he knew that there was no way in hell he was going to forget you.
Starting off with the obvious: as disgustingly man this was of him to do, his minds was drawn to your chest. Your boobs that sat perfect in your corset-like top, protruding about halfway out. They were perfect size and shape, in his opinion at least. Then down to your thinner waist and then your curvy hips. An absolute hourglass if he ever saw one.
He quickly averted his eyes back to your face, noticing your soft but beautiful smile. Slightly big cheeks that pushed against your wide eyes that were such an intriguing color to him, gorgeous healthy hair, and lips that while some may consider small, were of perfect proportions with your face. You were gorgeous, the picturesque image of a woman, but not in a fake way. In a natural, you way.
You waved to everyone seeming confident with a hint of nervousness, understandable for the 10 people in the room that included him all staring at you. He finally managed to put a smile on his face, realizing his mouth was wide open and he probably looked like a drooling dog at this point. Not that there was a huge difference between the two judging by his reaction.
“I’m Y/N.” You announced to everyone in a relaxing, calm tone. Everyone went around the room to introduce themselves, and finally it was his turn.
“I’m Gerard,” He simply said, “Real nice to meet you.” His Jersey accent slipped out a bit, a relatively noticeable contrast to your nearly perfect sounding English dialect.
You and your uncle had sat down at one of the couches talking to some of the other band members, which prompted Gerard to quickly wrap up his makeup job and join in. He wasn’t very outgoing usually, but he at least wanted to talk to you a bit.
And as the conversation continued, his mind ran down the rabbit hole of lust towards you. The way you spoke screamed intelligent and mature, the way you carried yourself confident and relaxed, the things you talked about he also liked. You were almost too good to be true. And that was the very problem. You were too good to be true.
He couldn’t forget that you were essentially his temporary bosses niece. Because, yes, you were the niece of the drummer for the band his band was opening for. So sleeping with you was immediately off the table. I mean, he wasn’t planning on you just being a quick fuck. If he wanted you, he wanted all of you for a while. Or to at least take you out to dinner before ending up back at one of your places.
But just as his mind wandered away, he was struck back to reality by noticing your eyes traveling to him more frequently than others. He thought he was just hallucinating at first, because who would’ve wanted him especially when you looked like you? But after enough time, and a very obvious look up and down of him with a small smirk following, he seemed to have a good idea that this was a mutual feeling of sorts.
And that would cause trouble. But again, that was what his entire existence was about.
As soon as your uncle departed the room, you strutted up to Gerard with a level of confidence he nearly feared. “Hey, Gerard, right?” You asked and he nodded back, “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m really excited to be here, big fan of your guys’ music, and your lyrics.” “Thanks,” He replied with a small smile, “I appreciate hearing that from a pretty girl.”
“Just being honest,” You quickly replied, “I don’t usually lie to hot guys, figured I wouldn’t start with you.” Flirtatious too, same level as him. Your slyness and quick remarks had him falling even more for you, but he also had to maintain a relatively composed image. Confidence matches confidence, he couldn’t pussy out now.
“So, just staying for the show?” “Yeah, I booked a hotel room over night just ‘cause it’s about a three hour drive back to school, and I’m not in the mood to do that at midnight.” “Fair,” He replied, leaning on the couch next to him and crossing his arms. “Where’re you staying?” “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You smirked a bit, also crossing your arms. He licked his lips a bit at the response, the sudden sass being a bit of a turn on, he couldn’t lie.
“What’s it gonna take to get that information out of you?” He asked. You pretended to ponder for a minute.
“Your number.” You replied. He chuckled.
“That offer seems too good to be true,” He stated, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen off a table nearby. “Text me after the show.”
“Will do.” You smiled, “Maybe I’ll give out the location, if I’m feeling generous.” “If it gives you any more incentive, I always buy a girl dinner or breakfast, whichever you prefer.” He promptly responded. You smiled at him.
“I’ll think about it.” You said, “Good luck out there, Gerard.”
Gerard didn’t realize just how addictive you were until now, about three months since that first night that got him hooked on whatever type of chemicals you put into his system.
Everyday you would text throughout the day, and call at night. You talked about everything, how your days went, relationships, different dynamics, how the band and your school was going. Anything and everything was on the table and up for the discussion, one passionately talking and the other intently listening.
He did admit to himself that the no-girlfriend policy was working better, but he would do anything for you at this point. He had never once truly wanted a tour to end, but as soon as their two week break came, he was headed back to New York with the plan that you would visit those two weekends, and devote them just to each other. He was counting down the days, dreaming of the moments you would have together. It was shocking he was anticipating domesticity so much, but he couldn’t wait to spend mornings with you in coffee shops, and doing couple-y things, then go out or cook dinner together, and finish out with more repeats of the first night you two had where he could get his next fixing on your taste, feel, scent.
He found himself outside of the Amtrak station a whole 15 minutes before your train arrived, telling himself he just wanted to be there on time. But he knew better, and that his unconsciousness had taken a hold of his body, and marched his feet hastily through the streets of New York and where he stood now.
You weren’t all that hard to notice, despite your pretty standard appearance. But he could spot the shape of your body from half a mile away, and as soon as your silhouette came into his vision a smile rapidly grew on his face. He didn’t run up to you, knowing attracting extra attention was something neither of you were into. But as soon as you found him, you jogged over just a bit until your body comfortably fit in his arms. “I missed you.” Was the first thing you muttered into his chest, feeling his chuckle rumble in his chest.
“I missed you too,” He replied, letting you go again and catch your breath. “Excited for this weekend?” “Very,” You smiled, “Pretty sure it was all I talked about this week.” He grabbed your hand and your bag, his smile staying put on his face as the two of you walked into back into the streets of New York, leading you back to his apartment.
Despite all the money you knew he had made over the last few years from the band, Gerard still found himself in a little dinky apartment. You didn’t mind to say the least, the brick walls and general small nature of the place really screamed Gerard, and all the hand me down, used furniture was the same way. He seemed a little embarrassed about the place at first, but let out a small sigh of relief when you comfortably laid yourself over his couch after a day of travel. “So, what do you wanna do for dinner? I mean, I know it’s a few hours til then but in the case we want to go out-“ “I mean, I have no preference.” You shrugged, “We could go out or stay in or make something. I really don’t care.”
“Well think on it hon,” He replied, leaning over the arm of the couch to kiss you on the top of the head. “Let me know.” You nodded in response, grabbing one of his hands behind to hold it for just a moment.
“What’re we doing this weekend?” “Well, it’s really whatever you want.” He said, still standing over you, “I mean, I figured we could do things I think you might like. Museums, book stores, parks, coffee, all the good stuff.” “That sounds perfect.” You replied with a big smile, which made him smile back.
“But if you have anything in particular, also let me know.” He replied, “Only a couple of days here.” He replied which you promptly groaned in response too.
“Don’t remind me.”
You were by no mean shocked to wake up practically tangled in his grey sheets, or to be under his arm and sleeping on his bare chest. But as you woke, quickly realizing he wasn’t up yet, you took only a single moment to enjoy these couple seconds with him before knowing you would need to get in the shower and get ready for the day. Your head adjusted to lay your chin on his chest now, looking up from where he peacefully slept, feeling his smooth and deep breaths slowly run through his body, and drawing little doodles on his skin with your finger. It was somewhat unbelievable to you, still, that you had a boyfriend, let alone one that seemed perfect.
He stirred a little bit, making a small noise as his eyes fluttered open. You cringed to yourself, “Did I wake you up?” He cleared his throat a bit, sitting up a bit which you followed.
“No, not at all baby.” He softly smiled at you, his eyes still a bit squinted and adjusting to the sun that freshly entered the side windows of his bedroom. He gave you a slow morning kiss on the lips, before letting you get up to go to the bathroom, admiring your walk there with a small, content smile.
The door softly closed behind you, him hearing his shower run. He laid back over onto his back, taking a small yawn before deciding to get up as well, putting his boxers on the floor back up, and wandering into his kitchen making two cups of coffee, his first since it would take you a moment or two in the shower, and wanting to preserve some of the heat for you in the mug.
He considered making a small breakfast, but quickly realized that it would make more sense on a weekend when the good restaurants in the city would be busy for brunch and you two would probably not get a table. He noticed, his closed notebook on his kitchen bar, moving over to sit at one of the barstools to sketch a bit more while he waited for you to get out of the shower.
Getting lost in his trance, he was slightly startled feeling your fingertips cascade over his arm, his head shooting up to look at you with big eyes. Even with wet hair and no makeup you still looked gorgeous. “Shower’s all yours.” You softly smiled. He nodded, closing his book, leaving you in the living room now to yourself.
He had gotten used to living alone over the years, so he found it actually more calming hearing both the running water of the shower against the tile and a hairdryer off in the distance of his room. It was such a subtle reminder that he wasn’t alone, but it was keeping his emotions at bay with the thought of you being right through the door. His mind constantly circling around you over these past few hours was just more of an internal confirmation that he was head over heels for you. His shower seemed to have more character with all of your products taking up more space, but he didn’t mind in the least. He subtly wanted them to stay there forever.
“Do you wanna go out for breakfast?” He asked you, stepping out of the bathroom and still pulling his shirt over his head.
“That would be nice.” You replied, sitting on the chair in the corner of his room writing in your journal. It was cute that you still did that, something that he wished he could do consistently. “What were you thinking?” “Well, depends on what you’re in the mood for,” He explained, brushing his wet hair out a bit with his hand, “We could do bagels, those are simple, there’s a diner down the street that’s pretty good too, uh what else-“ “The diner would be nice,” You said, putting your notebook down and stretching your legs just a bit, “Pancakes sound good right about now.”
“We’ll do that then,” He softly smiled, walking over to you to place a soft kiss on the top of your head.
Gerard had never wanted domesticity just like he hadn’t wanted a relationship. But if whatever this was with you was domesticity, he would hop on that wagon any day of the week.
Nothing had felt better than this level of calm. Casually walking in New York to parks, watching you gasp over dogs you saw and then begin to mentally plot and plan how you would convince Gerard to get one for you and keep it since you were still at college. Grabbing coffee and tea with pastries to sit on park benches and talk. Walk through bookstores and find two cozy chairs to read with one another. Grabbing a late night dinner as it rained at a small pizza place, sitting next to the open window to get small gusts of wind and hear pattering rain on the pavement outside. Seeing how your eyes lit up watching kids on playgrounds or getting picked up from school, knowing he didn’t need to be told what your future held in terms of motherhood.
It all seemed too good to be true, which by Sunday afternoon as he dropped you off at the train station, he quickly realized it was. He had one more weekend with you like this, which he would be counting down the seconds throughout the week to get there, but that reality sunk his stomach more than a bit. He could feel the pit in him grow with every step you took towards your platform and away from him. Towards your own life, without him.
He could still taste the vanilla-lavender chapstick from your lips on his when you gave him a final kiss goodbye, or your hand lingering on his and only pulling away when it had to, fingers brushing across each others so he could feel nearly every crevice that made your fingerprint one of a kind. He waited like a bit of a stalker until he saw you enter the train, and depart down mirrored windows so all he could see again was himself. A solo man left in his solo world.
But this was the parallel reality you two lived in. The one where your relationship was secret only until the two of you were in the same physical room, sharing the same breath of air. It pinged his heart a bit, maybe forcing it to even skip a beat, but here he stood feeling more empty than ever as the train pulled away and down the tracks.
He went back to his apartment, laying on the couch that you sat on only a few hours ago, and took a deep breath to himself. The beige of his walls and lifelessness of the fading brown hardwoods only reminded him of the color you brought to his world. He began to realize through these passing moments of longing and needing for you that he wasn’t just any form of love. This was true love.
By Wednesday he was sure he was insane. He couldn’t keep going back to the same old apartment over and over without you there, with little to no interesting food and no means nor a want to cook without you. The food he ate had turned bland and his art in all its forms wild with frustration. He had enough of this distance, and was going to do something about it.
Despite living in New York, he did have a car. It didn’t make much sense, but he was suddenly thanking the extra money he invested into a monthly parking spot as he decided he was going to drive to see you. It was only about four hours, pretty doable in his book. He would’ve driven four days at this point just to see you.
Your day was going normal, as it always had. Nothing special or fun, just classes, work, extracurriculars, friends, the usuals. What you didn’t expect, however, was a text from your boyfriend letting you know he was 15 minutes away. You thought he was texting someone else at first, sending back a quick, “Pretty sure this is the wrong person.” But when he called you and let you know he was actually 15 minutes away, you nearly freaked.
You rushed back to your dorm, slamming all the doors in your way and quickly cleaning up. It was a bit of a mess given your schedule and your lack of incentive to actually make the place presentable, but since Gerard was coming over you had to.
As soon as you got the “I’m here” text, you ran out to the parking lot behind your place where he was, seeing his car and running over to crash him in a big hug. He gave you a nice kiss on the top of your head, rocking you back and forth in his arms. “I physically couldn’t wait any longer,” He explained, “I had to see you.” You smiled up at him, planting a small kiss on his lips and running a hand through his slightly messy hair. “You’re perfectly fine.” You explained, “I was missing you a lot too. Besides you haven’t met any of my friends or seen my life here, might as well.”
“Yeah, I was kinda worried how a bunch of 19-year-olds would feel about you dating a dude in his late 20s.”
“Eh, they already know.” You explained, “They’re all just a bit of whores. They’re supportive of it.”
You led him by his hand into your dorm, giving him a little tour. He smiled at how much the room fit you, decorations, photos, and all. It really felt like you personified into a room. “Excited to sleep on a Twin XL with me?” You asked, looking over at your bed and leaning on his shoulder.
“With you, anytime.” He smiled as you laughed into his arm. “Also, I came to tell you something but completely forgot until now.” “Oh?” You looked up at him and asked quizzically, your head tilted to the side a bit. “I love you.” He smiled down at you. You smiled back.
“Gee, you could’ve told me that over the phone.” “Yeah, but it’s more romantic or whatever in person, ya know?” You rolled your eyes at him, still putting your head on his shoulder.
“I love you too.” You replied, smiling contently from where you stood, so close you could feel your breaths and heartbeats harmonizing with each others.
A/N: I know it’s been a hot second since I’ve posted anything, but I had this little idea after seeing a video of a girl do this for her boyfriend and just wrote this quick little, fluffy story. So I hope you guys enjoy!
Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader
Word count: 1,690 words
Warnings: Lots of fluff :)
Gerard was practically living with you at this point.
Yes, technically speaking, he did have his own place. And no, technically he didn’t pay for rent (though that was a recent conversation between the two of you where he attempted to insist he needed to and you promptly said no). But he was here at least six out of seven days a week, if not all seven.
You didn’t mind by any means, having your boyfriend to help out around the place a bit or cuddle with when he was consistently home was nice. But his long days now working on the upcoming album on top of his already long commute from his place and LA traffic to the studio space was what had him staying here so often. Your apartment was roughly 10 minutes from the studio, his 45. Yours was in an area he liked better anyways, more parks and things to do and much less hectic than his area of town.
While spending time together, however, you had noticed his growing feeling of disconnect. You didn’t need him to outright say that he was losing some connection with people back home, the things he would say, even the slightest hints in conversation gave you all you need. This was because of the primary problem that you didn’t have a gaming set up, at all.
It was the way he communicated best with friends back home who lived on the other coast of the country, was through gaming. You had no problem with him doing it, and it wasn’t like he was addicted or anything. He knew how to time manage well, and if you needed help on anything he would be there within a minute of your request. But now, with not being at his place where all his set up was, he didn’t have the opportunity to use that as a stress reliever or to be able to actually communicate with some of his best friends.
And this is where the combination of your master plan (sponsored by your recent bonus check) came to mind.
He already had been keeping a list of new equipment he wanted, and thanks to your inside source (AKA Mikey) you had gotten ahold of just that list. Sure, most of this stuff wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t overly expensive either. So as soon as your additional check processed you went on a shopping spree for your boyfriend, without him knowing.
It had taken a full day, or the entire Thursday out of this week for you. It started as soon as he left at 8:45 to get to the studio. As soon as his car was about 10 minutes down the road, you took your own first to Best Buy to get the simple things, then across to some more specialty stores around town to find just what he needed (suddenly thankful for just how big LA was and therefore it’s variety). Shipping stuff was not an option, it would’ve made it far too obvious and ruined the surprise.
It didn’t take all that long to get everything, it was just setting it up that was a bit of a pain in the ass. First, the IKEA desk was a handful, which you had to get one of the guy’s you knew down the hall to assist you with. Then it was figuring out power cords and confusing directions with lists of terminology you had never seen before. And finally, turning it on to make sure nothing was broken, either by the manufacturer or you.
Everything was set up and ready to go by 5, which was going to be early anyways. Gerard usually didn’t get back until 6 or 6:30 at the earliest, his average being around 8, and some nights going until 10. You pondered what to do in the meantime, all the productiveness of the day powering you on to continue. You might’ve been going a bit over the top with the niceness today, but you figured the world needed more kindness over everything, so you decided to make his favorite food, which happened to be a combination of your mom’s spaghetti recipe and his. You weren’t sure how, but over the last year and a half or so of dating, you had managed to combine a bit of both their recipe’s to make your own hybrid sauce, which he practically melted over when you made it.
It took the sauce a while to boil down, as in a good three-ish hours, and you figured or at least hoped he would be home by then and could wait just a bit for the food to finish. In the meantime, you decided to finish a few minor work things, and move on to a TV show you watched on your own knowing damn well he would not enjoy it (but you also knew he would sit through it and pretend he liked it even if he didn’t).
Just as you were a good couple episodes in, you heard the lock on the front door jingle a bit. You turned off the TV, hopping up and making it just in time to greet him at the door. “Hey Gee!” You smiled at him, his tired face forcing a small but genuine smile.
“Hey, baby.” He replied, shrugging hit coat and shoes off before giving you a light kiss.
“How was your day?” You asked next, he sighed a bit in response.
“Exhausting, frustrating, the usual.” He replied, “Glad to be home.” You loved it when he called this place “home”, and nuzzled into his side a bit with your head on his shoulder in appreciation. “Yours?”
“Good, I have a surprise for you actually.” He smiled a bit more with a chuckle.
“Is it what I think it is? Because I think I smell your spaghetti sauce but I didn’t wanna get my hopes up.”
“Well there’s that, yes, and then one other thing.” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a little squeeze before you pulled away to lead him into the back part of the living room. “You gotta close your eyes, babe.” You said, which he chuckled at a bit closing his eyes. “I don’t fully believe you. Hands over them too.” He took a huff and followed your instructions as you lightly took his arms and gently led him right next to the new desk with all his equipment. “Okay, ready? Open.” You said and he followed.
At first his face looked a bit confused, but it soon turned to amazement, and then back to confusion as he looked at you for clarification. “It’s a new gaming set up.” You said simply.
He looked back at it in amazement before responding, “F-for me?”
“Yes, for you silly.” You smiled up at him, “I figured you practically live here now, you might as well have one here too. And that way you can still talk to the guys back home and have fun.”
“Babe,” He said simply, before turning to you and giving you one of the biggest hugs you had ever received, and most likely would ever receive in your life. “I- I mean, how did you know what to get? And did you buy this? I can reimburse you and-“
“No baby, none of that.” You replied back, “I paid for all of it, no worries. And not to snitch, but Mikey may or may not have sent me the list of new stuff you wanted for your gaming set up so I just went ahead and bought it.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He asked, cupping your face with his hands and leaning in to give you a slow kiss that he clearly meant with all his heart.
“I’m glad it makes you happy.”
“Very happy, actually. Like ecstatic.” He smiled.
“Anyways, you can set it up with all your stuff if you want. I gotta finish dinner.”
“No, I’ll help you,” He replied, promptly following you into the kitchen. “I can’t believe I’m getting your spaghetti and a gaming set up in a day. How will I ever repay you?” He asked to which you laughed.
“Just come to bed at night and don’t stay up forever, I like having you next to me.”
“That’s not really repaying you, hon,” He explained, “I like that too, I wouldn’t worry about that being a problem.”
After dinner and clean up, which he insisted on doing, you let him set up all of his stuff and play for a bit before hopping in the shower. You were glad to see him this genuinely, truly happy for the first time in a while, and hoped that maybe he would feel even more at home here than he already did. “I’m going to bed, love.” You said, walking up behind him as he removed his headset off of one ear. You gave him a kiss on the head and gentle rub on the shoulder.
“Okay, do you want me to come with?” He asked genuinely with big eyes of slight disappointment but not seeming to mind much. You softly smiled.
“Gee, I’m not your mom.” You chuckled, “But come to bed eventually tonight, I sleep better with you there.”
“Of course, hon, just like 15, maybe 20 more minutes I promise.”
“Alrighty baby, love you.” You replied with a soft smile, watching him go back to his screen.
“Love you too.”
You climbed into your bed on your side, taking your nightly vitamins before tucking yourself in and slowly trying to drift off. You loved making him happy, and seeing him act almost like a kid again brought some joy soaring deep through your veins. It wasn’t but 30 minutes later that you felt the bed next to you sink, and his body quickly engulfing yours, his head nuzzling onto your shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “Love you, sweet girl.” He whispered just loud enough so you could hear it. You smiled to yourself contently, interlocking his fingers placed lightly on your stomach with your own.
A/N: I’ve had the begging of this story in my drafts for a while, and now I finally took time to finish it. Yay! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you couldn’t already tell, it’s based on All Too Well, the now very iconic Taylor Swift song
Pairing: Gerard x Singer!F!Reader
Word count: 6,155 words
Warnings: Lots of angst, emotions in general, good old swearing. Also loosely proof-read, so keep that in mind.
Men sucked.
It was one of the many lessons you had gathered over your years of being on Earth, and you at this point were on the verge of giving up. Men were just intolerable sometimes, and nasty, and just... ugh. Bad.
Especially... well you hated to say it, but Gerard Way. He was supposed to be the super nice, sweet, nerdy guy, right? Wrong. He was a complete dick.
You guys dated for a year and a half and you swore nearly on your life that he was your soulmate. You loved him with every bone in your being, every breath you took was his. And then he fucking dumped you. Like it was nothing,
You weren’t even sure why, there was absolutely no lead up. You guys hadn’t fought anytime near the breakup, in fact just the week before you had gone out on a date with him at a super nice little romantic restaurant and the entire night was filled with nothing but laughter, smiles, and love.
And then he said he needed to talk to you, so you went over to his place, and well, he ended things. Right then and there. With no explanation whatsoever.
You were so confused that you didn’t filly react until you got back to your place and noticed one of his leather jackets he had left the other night, still hanging on the coat rack. And just like that you broke down sobbing in tears of anguish, agony, and the worst of all: heartbreak.
It wasn’t like inviting your friends over and binging sad romance movies over some ice cream and then burning his shit or covering it in glitter and delivering it back to him would work this time. No, this was a full blown code red. As code red as code red can get.
You were a depressed mess for three weeks not able to function as a human being. You breathed and that was the only thing keeping you alive. You just felt so used and ashamed and confused and unsure. Your entire life and existence for the last year and a half was suddenly meaningless and that was terrifying.
After a good depression slump, you turned to what every world famous singer-songwriter turned to: writing an album.
Which also happened to include a 10 minute song.
A 10 minute song that made it to #1 on the Billboard charts.
And caused your ex to go trough weeks of absolute slander and humiliation on the internet.
Every time you went on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, any social media the exact same thing popped up time and time again: a meme of Gerard with your lyrics along side it, or overall people just criticizing him for specific instances you mentioned in the song. Some of which were exaggerated, if you were being honest.
Everyone knew who he was, not only because of his band, but because he broke your heart. And despite trying to be the better person, you definitely felt a ping of victory in your chest.
Long story short, the album cycle had gone really well. Your tour sold out, the album was doing incredibly well with multiple number one hits, and awards were coming your way left and right. Yet the last thing you expected to see at any awards show was him.
My Chem didn’t do award shows, they just didn’t. So why the actual fuck was he here at an after party? You immediately saw him, and despite the dimly lit nature of the room, you knew it was him. He looked... good, actually.
His hair was a bit more grown out and black, he had lost notable weight, his jaw was suddenly incredibly sharp and noticeable, he was unfairly hot and you hated it at the moment.
“Oh shit.” Your bestfriend, Clara approached you. “It’s him, isn’t hit?”
“Mhm.” You nodded and sighed, “Why is he so hot? Why?”
“We are not going back down that rabbit hole, nu-uh.” She stated, grabbing your arm and pulling you away, “I don’t care how good the dick is, I am not going through another three weeks of you hiding under your covers like a fucking bear in hibernation.”
“It was good.” You mumbled as she pulled your up to the bar, ordering you a rum and Coke.
“C’mon girl, you just won like five awards for an album about how shitty he was! Don’t go back to him.” She sighed, “He was a douche.”
“I know.” You frowned, wanting to add on, ‘but only that once!’ knowing it wouldn’t go over well.
“Besides, I think you got an A+ list fucking hunk of an actor staring right at you.” She smiled, biting her lip and looking over your shoulder. You looked over your own to see him smiling right at you.
“Fuck! That’s the dude in the new super hero movie or whatever I forget which one- but he’s ripped, right?” Clara nodded enthusiastically and you smiled.
“If you wanna get Gerard even more on his nerves,” She began, “Maybe you’ll talk to him. But do the whole flirty thing where ya know, you place your hand on his chest and overly laugh at his jokes.” You nodded with a smirk as you shot down your drink for confidence and walked over to begin talking to the guy.
He was nice, for sure. Definitely nice, but like, no personality whatsoever. His jokes were bad, but you laughed, especially after you got a quick text from Clara notify you that Gerard was in fact staring right at you with a face full of envy. Exactly where you wanted him. Salt in the wound.
After a while, you excused yourself to go to the restroom which really was just an excuse to not talk to him anymore. You quickly glanced at Gerard who was still staring at you and quite aggressively took a sip of his water, which you turned away and smiled to. Hey, he was a dick, you could smile about making him mad.
You wondered to the restroom solely to get away from the unnecessary and annoying conversation. You weren’t really sure where to go next, it was stuffy and hot in there, music growing louder to the point where a scream sounded more like a mumble. So you did what any logical person in your situation would do, went through some back stairs and up to some random rooftop balcony.
You opened the large metal door and took a deep breath as you inhaled the fresh, crisp air of an LA night. You slowly opened your eyes again, after enjoying your mere moment of tranquility, to be met with anything but peace. In fact, you swore you felt your chest actually begin to light into flames and your heart ceasing to beat.
It was him.
He was standing there, leaning on the slim metal railing, a cigarette in his mouth as he slowly inhaled and exhaled again, clearly staring off into the dot pattern of lights a large city like this one had. You hated when he smoked, it was an awful habit and while you knew it was far better than most of his other previous bad habits and addictions, you still didn’t like it in the least.
The door then shut with a subtle ‘bang’, and naturally he turned around. And there you were, your confidence now stripped of you and blown off in the wind of the night. You were a statue, just staring at him. Out of... you weren’t even sure anymore. There was no word for this emotion. At least not one yet.
He did the same. Didn’t really move at all, just stared at you. At least he looked like he was breathing, you definitely weren’t. Your eyes remained wide as his grew heavy and he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his mouth as it cascaded over his face. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, only a small smile dancing on the edges of his lips.
You took that as a potential sign of peace, and began walking towards him. It would just be awkward if it was just the two of you up here and you weren’t at least minimally interacting. “I didn’t think you came to these things.” You commented, standing right behind the railing. He hummed, taking the almost nonexistent cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the gravel ground, and digging it in with his boot.
“No, not usually.” He sighed, “Label pushed us to, though. We were nominated and all.”
“I thought you guys never listened to your label,” You snorted under your breath, “It’s part of your whole image.”
“Yeah, well, ya know.” He began, “Shit happens.”
The two of you stood there in complete silence just staring into the skyline for probably a minute or two before he spoke up again. “Congrats on the awards.” He stated.
“Thanks.” You replied. Couldn’t have done it without your shitty ass breakup. “Congrats on all your nominations.” He scoffed.
“Nominations are not winning,” He explained, “It’s barely an acknowledgment.”
“Eh, I’ve been nominated for lots of things and not won.” You replied, “Besides, I think you guys should have won at least rock song of the year.”
“Thanks.” He replied, grabbing his pack again out of his pocket.
“I hate when you smoke those.” You commented under your breath.
“I know.” He coyly smiled, placing one in his mouth. “I’m not doing it out of spite, I’m doing it because that’s how addiction works.”
“I think I know how addiction works.” You fired back, eyeing him a bit. Again, it went silent with the tension.
“I saw you with, uh, what’s his face in there?” He began and you scoffed.
“Oh please, what’re you keeping track of every guy I talk to now?”
“No,” He replied, “Just observing.”
“I always hated how snarky you got.” You commented
“I always hated how snarky you got.” He chuckled.
“Oh don’t play the fucking victim.” You warned, “You were the one who broke up with me, remember?”
“Yeah, biggest fucking mistake of my life.” He stated matter of factly. You were processing what out of pocket thing to say next but his words caught up to you faster.
“Huh?” You suddenly asked, your eyes growing wide in shock.
“Yeah, I should’ve never been a complete and utter dick and just dumped you. You were probably one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I just treated you like shit one day and called things off over shit that wasn’t even your fault.” He sighed, “And yes, I definitely deserved a 10 minute break up song about me.”
“It was 25 initially.” You mumbled and he looked over more with a look of concern. “Can I ask you something?” You requested after a few moments of silence.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you break up with me?” You asked and looked over at him. He froze for a moment before taking his cigarette out to elaborate on a large sigh.
“Because I wasn’t myself, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.”
“Huh?” You asked.
“I had gotten back on, ya know, shit, just before the whole thing. And of course I knew you were gonna get on my ass and tell me that I shouldn’t do that shit, so I made the dumb mistake and chose all the fucked shit over you.” He explained, “It was so, so fucking dumb.” You waited a few moments to speak. Maybe out of shock, or just trying to process it.
“Gee,” You replied, waiting a few moments, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. You’re not obligated to. I mean, I can barely if at all justify what I did with that.”
“You were a complete dick.” You stated, looking over at him as he lightly smiled. “But I loved you.”
“You loved me?”
“Yeah, I told you like every day.”
“Did you ever stop loving me?” You took a brief pause, the answering coming way too fast for your comfort. There was a still silence present between the two of you.
“I don’t know.” You whispered, your breath getting lost in the wind. He nodded, placing his head down to stare at the ground.
“I never expected you to come back, a part of me doesn’t want you to. Not because I don’t love you, I still do, but because all the anguish and just torture and hell I put you through. This two year punishment without you has been completely awful, but I know I deserve more of it.”
And you were actually speechless.
You hated the idea that you wanted to give him a second chance. You dreaded the feeling that he was a good guy at heart. You absolutely despised that you loved him, still, after all the shit he drug you through.
So you did what anyone would do: you ran.
You ran as fast as this tight dress and the heels could take you, as fast as your breath would allow, as fast as your heart could beat.
“Where are you going?” He asked, you heard his footsteps behind you as he grabbed onto your arm. It wasn’t a mean grab, more worry and desperation.
You turned your face to look up into those hazels eyes that reflect your own, lighten up by the barely illuminated box light above the door.
“To think.” You replied, your eyes welling in tears as your breath broke. You shook him free of you quickly and ran through the door and down the stairs.
You wanted him to run after you, but you wanted him to just leave you alone. You wanted him to confess his words and trials of love for you, but you wanted him to rot in hell. You wanted to feel his lips against yours again as you had all those times, but you also wanted to never see him ever again.
Your head was spinning as you finally reached the main ballroom again, looking around frantically for anyone you knew. After a minute your eyes just scanned the room and became blurry, unsure of what the image in front of you was, but you were sure it was chaotic and-
“Y/N?” A familiar voice rang through your ears. “Y/N, are you alright?” It became more clear. You turned to your side to see where it came from, a face you hadn’t seen in years.
“Mikey,” You sighed, letting your held breath go, “I um, I-”
“Are you having a panic attack?” He asked frantically, holding both of your arms, “Shit, let’s get you out of here.” He said, beginning to escort you to the back entrance. As soon as you got outside again your brain began collecting itself. “Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded, realizing you fists were curled into the lace of your dress and letting go. “What happened.”
“I- I don’t know, a lot I guess.” You swallowed harshly.
“Do you need to get home? Do you have a driver? Uber?”
“Yeah, I have a driver. I’ll just text him.” You sighed, taking another deep breath and closing your eyes.
“It’s Gerard, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Huh?” Your eyes went wide, wondering how he figured that out so fast.
“What the hell did he say to you? You know I’ll kick his ass-”
“No, Mikes, no.” You sighed, “I’m just confused.”
“About?”
“Him.”
“Oh.” You nodded.
“I think I need time to figure out how I feel.” He nodded back.
“I understand.” He smiled, as your carb began pulling up. “Well, you know if you need anything, I’m a phone call aways.”
“Thanks.” You tightly smiled, leaning in to give him a hug which he happily returned.
He helped you into your car, shutting the door and waving goodbye, making your promise that as soon as you got back to your place you would text him to let him know you were safe. “I swore she would’ve been my sister-in-law by now.” He sighed as the car pulled away. “But he just had to fuck it up.”
There your phone was in front of you for the third day in a row, his contact still blaring at you through the screen. You had been tempted oh so many times to call, text, anything just to see him.
You were kicking yourself for admitting it, but you missed him.
And deep down you knew better than to get back with a man who had thrown you to the curb like some casual trash every trash day, but 99% of your relationship was different, and you believed him when he explained why he suddenly changed. But you couldn’t just erase away the image of him just casually breaking up with you like it was nothing.
“I just don’t think this is gonna work out.” He nonchalantly stated as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
“What do you mean this ‘isn’t gonna work out’?” You asked him with confusion and despair mixed in your voice. “Two weeks ago we were talking about having kids, Gerard.”
“Yeah, well, life happens.” He stated with a sigh, “Listen I’m not sure if I love you the same way I did.”
“Huh?” You asked in utter shock, “What the fuck has happened to you? You’ve been a completely different person the last week. This isn’t fucking you and I want to know what’s going on.”
“Nothing!” He yelled back, his teeth gritting together and eyes glowing in rage. “Ya know what? This was never gonna work out. We’re two different people. You’re too obsessed with your image and who you are on the outside that people can never see who you actually are. And I’m sure that helps with your insecurity.” That was too far.
“Ya know what, fuck you Gerard Way. And fuck your stupid inflamed ego, and fuck your half ass songwriting that, by the way, wouldn’t be nearly as praised if it wasn’t for me proofreading all of it like a fucking English teacher! And fuck your entire fucking career and who you are as a person because you’re a fucking asshole and a dick.” He scoffed.
“What are you gonna do about that, huh?” He fired back, “Write a song about me.” And that was the final line.
“Get the fuck out of my house.” You demanded, pointing to the door. He gave you a ridiculous look, “I don’t know who you are, but you are not the Gerard Way I fell in love with. So I need you to get the fuck out of my house before I call security.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, grabbing his coat from the rack and opening the door to leave.
“Well, good luck finding any inspiration besides me.”
“That’s the fun of it, isn’t it.” You sarcastically smiled, “I will drag your name through the mud and back, throw it in a dumpster, and light it on fire. Mark my fucking words.”
You knew he had. Judging by the conversation of just a few days prior he had paid the wrath of hell you had cursed upon him, and he knew he deserved it. You wondered if that was enough punishment, or if pretending like you two were never even together was what he really needed.
You shut off your phone, this time aimlessly throwing it across the room as you heard a distant ‘thud’, and groaned, leaning back into your bed. You hated this feeling, these conflicting battles happening in your mind. You had never stopped loving him, and he had never stopped loving you, but he had broke you like no other. Does that deserve another chance.
“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to ever get back together.” Clara came into your room with some takeout bags and you groaned again. “Because he gets you into this weird funk and I don’t like it.”
“It wasn’t always like this.”
“No, but people change, Y/N. And you need to accept that the Gerard who broke your heart was not the same man who you fell in love with. He’s gone now.”
“I don’t think so.” You sat up, squinting your eyes to adjust to the light. “I think he came back.”
“Uh huh, how do you know that?” She sarcastically asked.
“He had the same sparkle in his eyes he did years ago, the same spunk but not in a mean way. When his hand touched my arm I could feel the warmth I felt years ago when we used to hold hands or cuddle.” She sighed, sitting next to you on the bed.
“Yeah, but is he worth going through all that pain again?” She looked down at you as you stared at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” You sighed, “I think so.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Those were the only words muttered as the two of you stood on opposite sides of the door. He was still in the exposed air through the back door of your Tribeca townhouse, standing there with the cool breeze flushing through his hair. You were on the other side inside, and slightly moved over as a signal for him to walk in which he followed.
He slipped off his shoes and jackets as he looked around the first floor living section. He hadn’t been here before, of course he hadn’t. You had sold your old apartment as soon as he broke up with you. You couldn’t stand all the memories there and you wanted to run away as fast as possible.
“Wow,” He commented with a smile, “This is really nice.”
“Thanks.” You lightly smiled, leading him to the living room.
“Coffee?” You asked and he nodded. He never drank anything but that, and you knew nothing had changed. You handed him the mug with just black coffee in it, a similarity the two of you always shared.
The following moments were filled with a level of awkward silence you hadn’t felt in a while. It seemed like each of you were trying to strategically see what the other was plotting; a potential apology, a love confession, makeup sex… who knew. The only solid feeling in the air was one of tension that seemed like a wad of rubber bands wrapped around each other and ready to explode with aggressive pressure.
“So-“ Gerard had started and you looked up at him with a light smile. His eyes met yours, and he suddenly remembered how much he loved to look at them. The natural lighting in your place truly did even more wonders to the eyes he used to beg to stare at for hours because he loved to examine the color and complexion of them. They were a subtle reminder of what home felt like, even if he was on another continent. “I, um, how’ve you been?”
“Good,” You replied with a light chuckled, running your hand over the back of your neck as if you were trying to find some sort of switch that would magically erase the insane tension between the both of you. “Things have been- overwhelming, but good. And you?”
“Better,” He admitted, “I mean, life could be going better, but it’s not awful at least.” You nodded your head a bit, knowing what he meant and feeling the radius of misery that seemed to drag around him. Maybe that’s where their dark and very twisted new record had come from, the scent and general aroma of misery and despair that seemed like a necessary accessory he wore.
“That’s- that’s good.” You replied and he lightly laughed.
“Don’t feel that sorry,” He leaned back on the couch and rolled his eyes, “I think this is karma coming for me after all the shit I’ve done to other people.” You snorted a bit at his revelation, him replying merely with a confused look and twist of his head.
“No- it’s just, you’re never gonna believe this, but I kinda recently wrote a song called karma. Not necessarily about you- but about, ya know-”
“Yeah, I know,” He lightly laughed, throwing his head back. “I mean, he deserves it.” You nodded with a soft smile.
More moments of the same tension from before followed, and floated between the two of you as small talk was clearly a lost cause now. “Listen,” You finally spoke up after a few moments, “I wanted to talk to you just about restoring something.”
“Like what?” He asked, his eyes growing a bit wide in optimism it seemed. Something you recalled him doing a lot when together. Like when you mentioned making his favorite meal, or announcing the shows you would be able to go to on his tour.
“Well, just- something. Friendship or something more, I don’t know. But I think we’ve both been pretty immature about the whole thing that happened, and I don’t know, I feel like it’s time for me to be a bit more adult-ish about everything and at least accept that the past is the past, and try to move on.” It took him a good few seconds to even begin to process your words, and judging by the frozen features on his face, it seemed he didn’t know how to respond for a bit.
“Well, um,” He awkwardly replied, “I’m not against it at all, I’m really glad you wanna try something because I do too, but I’m not sure how I could even begin to start repairing any of the damage I’ve done- I mean, I said and did some awful things to you and just tried to make you feel worthless because that’s how I was feeling.” You nodded in response, “And I get that. That’s why I’m willing to forgive you, now.” You replied, softly placing your hand over his that sat in the middle of the couch.
He looked down briefly at the contact, his pale face suddenly glowing a bit more red as a blush slowly painted his cheeks.
“I- I appreciate it, but I haven’t really done much to deserve it-“
“Gee, you’re here today. In my apartment, the girl who you crushed, willingly admitting to your wrongdoing.” You promptly replied, “Also, you did admit the 10 minute song was good.”
“I mean, yeah, it was almost an epic of a song.” He replied quickly as if it was obvious.
“Thanks,” You softly smiled, “So, at least friends. And if something else comes up, maybe we’ll try more than friends again.”
“I would like that,” He quickly nodded, “A lot, actually.”
This was so uncharacteristic of you.
In fact, staring at his bedroom ceiling, now, the fan running, and a slight dink from a loose screw on it echoing through the room, you had begun to question every breath you had taken in the last 24 hours. Every step you took was now being analyzed in your mind as to how your feet took you here, and your heart interrupting it with it’s beats of love.
His slight morning snore, as you fondly recalled it, didn’t help either, or his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You were trapped between a choice of freedom and non confrontation to your left, or the sleeping man who you hated for years on your right.
But his death grip was making this impossible, you couldn’t escape if you wanted to, but you were also freaking out… a lot at this point. So much is that you began to feel your lines constricting centimeter by centimeter, and your breath growing heavy and urgent. Your mind began fogging as eyes became dizzy, and were only broken from your trace by a slight shake.
“Y/N/N,” He asked, sitting above you a bit with a concerned look. His face was twisted to your side as if coming out of the right part of your vision from where you laid, grabbing the covers on top of you, “You alright?” He asked. You quickly cleared your throat and nodded a bit.
“Yup, fine.” You admitted, sitting up on your forearms as he gave you more room.
“You sure? Your breathing became heavy all of a sudden and-“
“Yup! Perfectly fine.” You tried to admit as optimistic as possible which came out more as passive aggressive. You quickly got up, wrapping some sheets around you at the edge of the bed, quickly rearranging your clothes on yourself from the night before.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked more starkly, noticing your jittery movements. He got up, and began redressing himself as well, “Baby, I need you to talk to me.”
“Don’t-“ You almost fired back, taking a moment to stop yourself and lower your tone, “Don’t call me that.” You said, finally pulling your shirt over your head.
“Oh- okay.” He replied, confused as he put his shirt on too.
“I just- I need to get out of here.” You frantically said, grabbing your bag and phone.
“What?” He asked again, squinting his eyes at you, confusion clearly taking over every thought in hid mind, “I- Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is wrong?”
“Everything, Gerard!” You yelled back, his face now in shock at your roar. He remembered having your first serious sit down conversation with one another. The one where you each pour out all of your problems on the table, sort through them in conversation like a deck of cards, and finish with passionate sex now that you each knew everything about each other? That one.
You had brought up your anger issues, and despite your juvenile level of anger had long been cooler down to where you stood now, he had been fairly warned about your potential out breaks. It was when you were overly anxious and unsure of how to react to something, so you resorted to overwhelming anger of what was causing you to feel that way. This, was clearly, one of those times.
“Can you just- please shut up for a second.” You heavily sighed, him still staring at you wide eyed.
You took a moment to breath, retreating back to your cleaning up after, and finally after a good minute or two, spoke again. “I- we can’t do this.” You stated, matter of factly, looking at him, “This is against everything I’ve held myself to ever, this goes against all my morals, and most of all makes me feels like some sort of whore, so I need to go.”
Gerard sat still and silent at your self-realization, and only moved with a flinch when he heard the front door slam shut. He then sat, again still, specifically at his wall, and wondered what he had done wrong. You and he had possibly the best night you had with each other just the prior night, and he couldn’t count on his fingers each of you whispered “I love you” to the other. He knew he meant every note of the phrase that came out of his mouth, but now he was wondering the same for you.
“I need a cigarette.” Was all he murmured, getting up and finding his pack and lighters on his bedside table. You knew you loved (despite the fact you always said it was nasty) when he smoked in bed after sex with you under his arm, and last night was no different. A blush always grew on your face and you would always nuzzle closer to him every time he did it, your eyes always glued to his mouth and the smoke that came out of it.
He headed out onto his apartment fire escape/turned balcony and briefly looked down below to the city streets on this cold, rainy, Sunday morning. No better time than for everything to go to shit again. He took a deep inhale after lighting the thin paper, and finally exhaled, looking away from the smoke like he did when a bit annoyed.
In the days that followed, he had set his expectations to be filled with nasty texts and calls from your friends berating him for letting you sleep with him again and get attached. Granted, as cliche as it sounded, the whole “it takes two to tango” scenario was oddly fitting for what was currently going on. He had to set half the blame on you, cut even and sliced to perfection, considering that neither of you would be in this confusing scenario had you just stayed away… but damn was that a hard and daunting task.
He had known from the first few weeks of dating you all those years ago that you were the one for him, and no one would truly compare to the way you made him feel. He was optimistic and happy for the first time in his life, you set off a sort of fire in him that made him feel more human. You were his person, but the whole bullshit of “right person, wrong time” seemed to be the motto of the entire relationship.
He heard his phone ping, laying on the couch and still smoking, a habit that had been indulged into these last couple of days, and reached for the device. He picked it up, flashing his screen and groaned. Of course she had to text him right now out of all times.
He wasn’t even sure if he owed her a response to her petty plea to get him to come over and the numerous risqué pictures she had sent to top it all off made him scoff. It had been months since they had done anything with each other, but the universe clearly had other plans to take the knife already plunged in his chest and turn it.
He simply replied with a “No.” and put his phone back down. If she texted more with pathetic drags at trying to get him to respond, he would simply block her. But he wouldn’t be a dick and make that his first move, at least he would be respectful, slightly, about it at first.
He took another long drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before releasing, and heard a faint knock at his door. He sat up a bit, confused and not expecting any visitors, getting up and walking over figuring maybe it was just Mikey. But much to his surprise, when he opened the door, it was you.
You both stared at each other for a good few seconds, before you finally spoke up, “Hi.” You said, simply. He noticed your wet jackets and boots, moving out of the way, and opening the door to let you in.
Nothing was spoken between the time when you slipped off your coat and boots, him graciously hanging your coat on the rack, and sitting down on the couch across from each other. The same whole scenario you went through when decisively saying, “Let’s just be friends” turned into passionate sex.
“So,” He started, looking at you curiously, “Why’re you here?”
“Um,” You began awkwardly, sighing while mentally contemplating what to say next, something you, shockingly enough, had not planned much on your way here. “I came to apologize for running the other night- or morning, really. I just- I got scared and I didn’t know how to handle my emotions and so I ran. And I’m sorry for that, you didn’t deserve to be left like that with no explanation.”
While he wanted to hold a bit of a grudge against your excuse for just leaving him for days, he also knew he was indirectly the cause that put you here. Of course you ran from him, you were scared if you didn’t leave first, he would leave. He took a sigh, himself, composing how to explain his own thoughts without coming off as completely dismissive.
“It’s okay, really.” He finally said, “I- you wouldn’t have to deal with those emotions had I not put you there. But I did, and that’s unfair to you as well. So- just, don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah- but,” You began, trying to find some way to genuinely get your apology across as you still seemed to believe he was just saying that.
“No, Y/N, I completely understand why you did it, and it’s okay, really. You needed time to think and breathe.”
“I just feel really immature about it all,” You continued, “I really shouldn’t have done that.” “And I forgive you.” He stated, placing his hand on your knee which finally got a small smile out of you.
“Can we, maybe, restart this for like, the second or third time?” You lightly laughed as he smiled and nodded.
“I would love that,” He replied, “But this time I’ll take you out to dinner first, forgot that the first time, well second time around, technically.”
