ilya! ilya!! ilya!!!

⤷ ゛19 ˎˊ˗ i love music and frank iero requests : closed .ᐟ.ᐟ

[ilyamustdie]

request rules 𓂃˖ ♪彡

status: closed ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

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

my masterlist here! <

what i wont write:

1nc3st

p3d0philia

z00philia

pregnancy

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

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

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

[ilyamustdie]

polaroid pictures is fr my magnum opus.

just wait until i get free time again i will be going crazy with writing

[ilyamustdie]

Do You Trust Me?

part 1

Kinky!Frank Iero x Virgin!Reader Kinktober post 1!

summary: you and Frank have been dating for a bit now! and it's finally time to take the next step in your relationship, except... you're totally inexperienced. but frank doesn't mind. he's had plenty, and is willing to teach you. tags: bondage, teasing, loss of virginity, cunnilingus, female receiving, corruption, loss of innocence, smut WC: 2455

A/N: got this out BEFORE it reached midnight (1 minute) so im technically still on schedule mwahaha. guys i cant wait for you all to read part 2 i think you all will enjoy it ;P its going to be two parts! i got some crazy stuff planned for the next kinktober fics to come out so be prepared....

It’s October 5th, and you couldn’t stop smiling. It’s your very first autumn with your boyfriend, Frank, your very first Halloween together. It felt like it was the start of something magical between you two. Heavy rain pattered against the windows of his house, loud and rumbling, while the fire crackled in the hearth. The living room was filled with a flickering golden glow and a nice heat to keep you two warm. 

You curled up against him on the rug next to the fireplace, wearing one of his hoodies that was loose on your frame. His tattooed arm slung around your waist, holding you tight against him, tracing lazy shapes on your thigh as you both watched the fire. 

“Are you comfortable?” His voice murmured, laced with care and roughness from the hours of laughing and talking. 

You hummed in response, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, a lazy smile spread across your face. He kissed your temple, lingering to breathe you in. His breath tickled, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze. You noticed the mischievous look in his eyes, dark and hungry. 

He dipped down slowly, his lips slowly pressing against yours. It was slow and soft; he always started like this. A gentle reminder to let you know how much he appreciated having you here with him. It didn’t take long for him to deepen it, though. He was impatient, and his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned into him, the sensation something you weren’t quite used to. Your pulse raced as the kiss heated up; it wasn’t from fear or discomfort, but from excitement at the newness. A rush comes from being with someone who knew exactly what he was doing while you were still learning how to navigate it. 

You had never had sex before; sure, you’ve had previous boyfriends; however, no one made you want to share this side of yourself until Frank. He made you feel safe enough to want more; it didn’t feel scary at all with him. It felt right. You knew he was experienced, but he’s more than willing to teach you. 

Frank pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. His lips puckered out a bit, breathless. He let his hand caress your cheek, brushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “Beautiful,” he whispered as he looked into your eyes. 

You felt your face heat up, a sensation building up in your core. His voice was low and raspy, one of his most endearing qualities. His voice was so addictive to you. 

You leaned back in to kiss him, your hand trailing up his arm and making your way up to his ruffled hair. You led the kiss this time, taking control. Frank was used to being the one initiating, and seeing you act so boldly made his blood rush to his core. Between kisses, you muttered out, “I’m ready.” 

Frank stopped the kiss and pulled back, holding your face gently, “Ready? As in…?” His voice trailed off, but he knew what you were implying.

You gave a shy smile, nodding. Your boldness began to slip away, suddenly feeling small under Frank’s gaze. 

His eyes softened, “You’re really sure about this?” His voice was gentle as he searched your face. 

“I’m sure,” you whispered. Your voice managed to come out steadier than the way your stomach was fluttering. “I want my first to be with you.”

Frank exhaled, almost shaky, like he was letting go of something he had been holding back for months. His smile was soft and boyish, pressing his forehead against yours.

“God- you have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. How long I’ve thought of doing this…” He gave you a gentle peck on your lips, then began kissing you down your jaw. 

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” He asked as he nipped your ear. His voice had dropped, more serious now.

“Always.” You replied, your breath caught in your throat.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, yeah?” His body shifted, sitting back up to look at you. Your face was illuminated by the gentle glow of the fire, your hair fanned out beside you. “Do you want to try something fun for your first time?”

Your face heated up as Frank looked down at you. He was on his knees, reaching for a thin blanket from the couch beside you two. You nodded quickly, anticipation in your eyes. 

You watched as he twisted the thin throw blanket into a makeshift rope and held out his right hand for your wrists. You slowly raised your arms with a whine, nervous and excited to try this with him. Frank smirked at your reaction and gently kissed you on your forehead before quickly raising back up and grasping you gently. 

He slowly tied your wrists with snug knots, making sure it wasn’t too tight but strong enough to restrain you. You watched him as he sat, hovering over you as he tied the knots. His face was soft as he focused on your wrists, his lip being bitten slightly as he concentrated. 

He let go of your wrists when he finished, “Not too tight?” 

You strained your wrists against the knot to test it, nodding in approval. Your stomach began to twist, a heat coiling low in your stomach as you realized how vulnerable you were in this position. 

“Good,” he breathed out, a sharp grin growing on his face. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on. Let me ruin you a little.” 

A soft whine escaped your lips at his words. All you could do was nod. Frank groaned and pinned your wrists down, taking in the sight below him, “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so good right now.” The praise made your breath catch in your throat.

He positioned his knees on either side of you, his hands sliding up your waist, feeling your body. His hand slipped up to your jaw, tilting your chin until your eyes met his. He leaned down close to your ear, “Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” 

Your heart swelled at his care, and you nodded, “I won’t want you to stop.” 

He chuckled darkly and began to kiss your throat, grazing his teeth along your skin before nipping at you. His weight pressed you into the plush rug, restraining you. He dragged his tongue right below your jaw and blew across your damp skin, the contrast of the heat from the fire and the cool breath he blew causing you to shiver. 

Your bound wrists shifted above your head as you instinctively began to arch into him. A low moan came from his throat as he felt you press up. 

His hands trailed up to your camisole top and slowly began to push it up, hesitating a bit, waiting to see if you protested. You didn’t, and he continued, exposing your bare chest as the top was pushed above your head, hanging loosely around your arms, pushing it below your head. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, almost to himself. His eyes were half-lidded and dark, drinking in the view below him. “Perfect like this, do you know how beautiful you look trusting me?” 

The words sent a rush through you. You squirmed below him, trying to move your arms to cover yourself out of embarrassment as your cheeks began to heat up. He groaned and quickly pinned your wrists down above you again, knowing you’d tell him to stop if you really wanted him to. 

“Ah ah ah,” he said, stopping you. “I want to see you, every part.”

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, “Wait,” he murmured. Before you could question it, he guided your hands up and lifted the thick couch leg before slipping your wrists under and gently lowering it, making sure you didn’t hurt your hands.

A satisfied hum left his mouth as he saw you were truly pinned now, “There we go,” he breathed down lowly as he hovered over you again, “completely stuck.” His voice was cocky, and he had you right where he wanted you.

You whined, a shy smile on your face, causing Frank to smile too. He dipped back down and kissed along your collarbones, his fingers trailing up your stomach teasingly until he reached your right breast. He began to gently fondle you, a small moan escaping your lips. He gave you just enough touch to make you ache for more; you couldn’t believe this was a feeling you could have. 

“Let me hear you,” he whispered against your skin. His hands were warm as they pressed against your skin, and his breath was hot and tickled.

You slightly squirmed below him, letting out a soft, needy moan, which made Frank let out a satisfied hum. His lips brushed against your ear, “Good girl,” he murmured, velvety. 

Your thighs began to press together tightly, rubbing to gain friction as he kissed you passionately. For a few long moments, there was nothing but warmth and movement. The glow of the fire flickered across the walls, and the scent of firewood swirled in with his cologne. 

“Please—“ your voice cut through the kisses, coming out more desperate than you anticipated. Your hips bucked up at him. 

Frank let out a low chuckle, pulling back to look at you, brushing the strands of hair out of your face. “Please, what?” 

You whined, embarrassed to say what it was you wanted. How you wanted him to touch you more, go further, have his way with you. Corrupt you. 

You knew you wouldn’t get what you wanted if you didn’t use your words. Frank was teasing like that; he loved to see you get embarrassed and watch your cheeks flush. 

Swallowing your pride and being consumed by want, you spoke up as your heart pounded, “Fuck me,” you whispered. 

Frank froze for a heartbeat. The air was thick, and the rain and low crackle of the fire filled the silence. He then smiled, slow and dangerous, excited by the words he had been waiting to hear. 

“Say it again,” he said, his voice rough.

As you repeated it, your voice came out barely above a whisper. 

“Lift your hips for me,” he said, and you eagerly obliged. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pajama shorts and tugged them down your legs, exposing you completely. He tossed the clothing to the side like they meant nothing and let his hands take hold of your hips to straighten you below him. He trailed a finger along your thigh, admiring how beautiful you looked with your wrists bound. 

“Frank,” you whispered his name out, your bottom squirming from the anticipation. He smirked at your movement and held your hips down with one hand while the other made its way further up your thigh, slowly. You trembled as his hand inched up your thigh. You ached for his touch, wanting his fingers to finally find their way to where you wanted them most. 

But Frank was in control, and he wanted to take his time. He loved watching the reactions he was drawing out from you. He had never seen you like this and loved knowing he was the first to ever know this side of you. Tonight, he was claiming something no one else ever had. 

Your breathing became shallower from want as his fingers dipped between your thighs. Once his fingers finally reached your soft heat between your legs, a moan escaped you. It was a strange sensation, having someone’s fingers there when all you’ve ever had before was your own. You were used to your fingers rather than Frank’s thick and long ones. Your breath hitched as he began to slowly circle your clit while another began to tease lower. 

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows and let your mouth gape open. His touch was addicting, and you couldn’t believe how good he already felt. A whimper slipped out as he applied more pressure with his touch, causing you to spread your legs to allow more access. 

“How’s that feel?” He asked lowly, enjoying watching your reactions. 

“God— So good.. Please, don’t stop.” 

He smirked at this and let his hand on your hip move over to press on your thigh and open your legs wider. He shifted so he could dip his head down between your thighs. He continued to work his fingers between your legs, now kissing the insides of your thighs. He began to suckle and nip at your skin, marking you with reddish bruised spots.

His mouth moved further up, and you could feel his hot breath fan over your sensitive skin. He looked up at you, taking in the view of you from this angle. 

“You’re mine,” he said, and his tongue swiped through you. It was hot and firm, and your senses immediately focused solely on the way Frank’s tongue felt on you. Your hips began to jerk against his hold, and he growled low as he held your hips tighter. 

“So eager,” he murmured between his licks, his voice thick with tease as you trembled. He pulled back, “Let me hear you, don’t hide that pretty little voice of yours.” His fingers continued to trace circles around your clit as he spoke, “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

His finger dipped inside your hole teasingly, causing you to gasp out, “F-Frank—“ 

“That’s not what I asked.” His teeth grazed your inner thigh, biting down gently. 

Your chest rose sharply and whined, “It feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” you confessed, embarrassed by the lack of experience. 

Frank smiled. He loved how he was the one to make you feel this good. He could do this for hours if you’d let him, and with how you’re acting now, he has a good feeling your relationship is going to experiment with this much more often. 

“Good girl,” he praised before rewarding you with his mouth, returning to your clit. He took one long lick before gently sucking on the swollen bud. Your wrists strained against the makeshift rope and couch; all you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and push him harder against you. 

He flicked his tongue rhythmically, causing a jolt to send through you. Your thighs squeezed around his head as he quickened his pace. Moans escaped your lips, encouraging Frank to go on. He knew he had found your sweet spot.

And when he slid two fingers inside you to begin stretching you out, a small cry came out from you. You knew you were ruined already.

And Frank?

He was just getting started. 

[ilyamustdie]

i am participating in kinktober for those who have asked!! ill be posting about 8 fics, starting october 5th and will release them up until the 31st. very excited for this season!!

luckily i have morning shifts for work starting tomorrow and i finished the exams i had so ill get some free time to write finally mwahaha

[ilyamustdie]

t'was the night before kinktober.....

[ilyamustdie]

just realized its entirely possible that the people ive talked to in person about mcr (due to seeing their merch or music being brought up in conversations) have possibly read my fanfiction

[ilyamustdie]

posted ch 5 of summer in belleville now its time to clock into work. no one here knows i write fanfics of my favorite band..

GUYS i miss being so unbusy and being able to write whenever. i hope after this shift im not too exhausted to hopefully write after i do homework. gerard request in the works mwahaha.

[ilyamustdie]

Summer in Belleville

Ch. 5

Pairing: Basement!Gerard Way x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: creepy gerard, obsessive behavior, stalking mentioned, underage drinking

word count: 2545

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

A/N: haha heeyyyy... heeeyyy... ive seen ur guys' inbox msgs i know you want more BAHAH genuinely thank you all for such kind messages, some of them genuinely made me laugh. thank u for the patience i hope u guys will stick around for more because im so excited to start writing the second part to this hehehe.... anyways heres ch 5! the timeline of the members are going to be inaccurate and skewed just so it works a bit more...? and there really isnt a set time of when this is. just very early 2000s. ALSO FRAAANNNKKK!!!

You had gone to bed way too late the night before. The glow of your laptop was the only light in your room the whole night, watching music videos on YouTube and endlessly scrolling through LiveJournal. By the time you had finally crashed, the sun had already begun to drift through the blinds, a pale glow beginning to enter your bedroom, and birds could be heard chirping. 

When you opened your eyes, finally awake, the sun had completely lit up your room. The blinds barely stopped the sun from coming in, causing you to shield your eyes as it was so bright. Your mouth was dry, and your head had a slight ache, the type you get from little sleep. You could tell it was well into the afternoon. The house was quiet, besides the occasional creak down the hall and the faint hum of a fan whirring somewhere. 

You could hear footsteps coming towards you, and you groaned, knowing it was Mikey coming to disturb your slumber. You rubbed your eyes as you heard your own door creak open, Mikey now leaning on the frame like he had been waiting for you. He had a playful grin plastered on his face.

“Thought you were going to sleep through the whole day,” he teased.

You draped your arm over your eyes and let out a huff, “It’s summer, let me rot. What time is it?” 

“Almost 5.” He walked in and sat on your bed, criss-crossed, bouncing on the mattress a little with excitement. “And guess what! We’re going to a party tonight.” 

You peeked at him through your arm, intrigued. Now, you and Mikey have had a fair share of parties throughout your past 2 years of college together, and they were fun. You loved to stay out late drinking with your best friend, listening to great music, and meeting new people, talking to them like you’d known them for years. 

“A party? Tonight?” You sat up a bit, leaning against the headboard with the covers slipping down to your lap. 

“My friends from high school are throwing a party and invited me. I haven’t seen them in a bit, but they said I could bring you,” he added. “Gerard is invited too; they all know him. They all get along. Especially Frank.” 

You nodded, feeling yourself grow more excited. “What’s the vibe like? Are they cool like you?” You asked, half joking, half full of truth. You didn’t know much about Mikey’s friends. You had to gauge the type of guys you’d be hanging out with tonight, but knowing that Mikey likes them, you knew you’d probably like them. 

“Well, not as cool as me,” he started, smirking at his comment, “but they are pretty fuckin’ cool. You’ll definitely like them, you’d probably get along with Frank the most.” 

“Frank? The one Gerard’s closer to?” 

“Yeah, he’s awesome. Pretty funny too. Anyway- start getting ready. Come to my room when you’re ready so we can pregame.” 

With that, he got up and left the room, shutting the door on his way out. 

For a moment, you sat there feeling your body beg to stay under the covers. But the idea of a party was enough to shake off the sleep and pull yourself out of bed. Your bare feet hit the wooden floor, and you stretched your arms above your head, bending your back a bit. You padded over to the duffel bag that held all your clothes and began to dig around, looking for a cute outfit to wear. It needed to be something you could move comfortably in, something that wouldn’t leave you drenched in sweat. 

Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror made you laugh. The sight of your bedhead sticking up in odd directions made you look so disheveled. You must have moved a lot in your sleep because this was more than usual. You turned the knob to the sink and splashed your face with water before getting some cleanser and foaming it in your hands before scrubbing. You were wide awake from the cold water now and brushed your teeth, finally feeling clean. You could hear Mikey listening to music as you got ready, brushing out your hair, straightening the pieces that needed it, and spraying it with hairspray. 

You did your makeup: a pretty eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner with a little smudge at your waterline, blush, and of course a little sparkle around your eyes to make them pop more. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, happy with how it turned out, and put on some lip gloss, puckering your lips and pressing them together to evenly distribute it. 

By the time you were slipping into your adorable outfit for the night and accessorizing, obviously adding your favorite bracelets and necklaces, it was around 6:30. You padded barefoot across the hall, humming along to the song Mikey had playing as you opened the door to his room without knocking. 

Mikey’s room, to put simply, was a mess. Well, to him, it wasn’t a mess because to him, he had cleaned the floor for you two to sit on. Clothes were in half-folded piles on his bed, and stacks of unorganized books, papers, and CDs had piled on his desk. A couple of wires for his bass had been strung along the floor by his bed where he sat, playing the instrument. In front of him were 2 shot glasses and a bottle of cheap vodka. 

You laughed at the sight. This was who you were friends with, and you wouldn’t change anything about him. 

“Finally,” he dramatically said, gesturing for you to sit on the pillow across from him, “the bottle is still cold.” He hung his bass back up on the wall and sat criss-crossed across from your spot. 

You plopped yourself down, tugging your shorts into place, “How’d you get the bottle?” You were curious; neither you nor Mikey had reached 21 yet. Back at college, you’d both made friends with the upperclassmen to get them to supply for you guys, but whenever they were busy, Mikey would send you to stand in front of liquor stores to flirt with guys to buy you bottles. It worked every time. 

“Gee is pretty chill with everything; it might not seem like it, but he’s a pretty big partier, too. Should have seen him when he was still in college.” He laughed a bit, remembering a few moments he had dealt with.

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. You tried to imagine his older brother, who seemed pretty nerdy and a little… reclused… being wild and carefree at a party. There really is a lot you don’t know about him. 

Mikey unscrewed the cap of the bottle and poured two shots for both of you, the smell hitting sharp as he slid the glass over to you across the floor. You both picked up your shots, “Ready?” Mikey had asked.

“Obviously,” you smirked, which prompted both of you to clink glasses, then tap the shots back on the floor, then down them with ease, albeit a nose wrinkle and a slight cough from both of you. The liquor burned in your throat, but you were no stranger to the warmth that built in your chest as you took a few more shots in between chatting and shared laughter. The shots after the first had gone down easier, and both of you began to loosen up much more. 

Mikey grabbed a random CD from the pile and put it into his player; it was “Adore,” an album by The Smashing Pumpkins. Mikey loved this band, and you grew to love them, too. As he leaned back into his spot to take a sip of his drink, he spilled some on himself. The alcohol had been taking effect on both of you, which was now extremely evident, causing you to laugh at him.

The room was filled with a warm and airy guitar, “Perfect” began to play, and you hummed along. It wrapped the room in something heavier than the smell of cheap vodka. It was romantic without meaning to; it was a song that just gave that effect. Nostalgia, like you were both sitting in a memory you’d ache for years from now. 

Mikey set down his cup, full of pink lemonade. It was the chaser you chose for the night, and it was one of your favorites. He wiped his eyes as he let out a small laugh. You could tell the song had hit Mikey as it did with you. 

“You know,” he started, his tone sounding thoughtful rather than the playful tone that had taken up the majority of the time, “we’ve been friends for like, two years? And people always assume we’re dating. Like, constantly.” 

You snorted, “It’s because we do everything together. And we have sleepovers at each other’s dorms. If someone is looking for one of us, they look for the other, knowing we’d be together.” 

“True,” he leaned back on his hands, smirking. “What if we kissed?”

You raised your brow, half-shocked, half-amused. “You’re drunk.”

“And so are you. But hear me out, just to prove those people wrong. That we really are just friends,” he egged you on.

You thought for a moment, and a smirk grew on your face as you connected eyes. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss. For science.”

You laughed. The heat of the vodka had made you loose, reckless, and daring. You often got like this when you were drunk; it was a whole new side of you, Mikey would describe it as. You get bold and confident. 

You scooted closer to him on the floor so your knees touched, and he reached for you, cupping your face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The music filled the silence, then you both leaned in. The kiss was clumsy, vodka could be tasted on each other’s lips. You both began to move softly, tenderly. You both lingered for maybe about 3 seconds before pulling back at the same time. 

You stared at each other in silence, expressions unreadable. After a moment, you both burst into laughter. Neither of you had noticed the shadow that lingered moments before, passing by the cracked door and slipping away.

“Nope. Never again. Definitely not,” you said, laughing and wiping your mouth dramatically.

Mikey was laughing so hard he was slumping forward, his head on your shoulder. “Never again,” he repeated between laughs. 

He pulled back and sat up straight, a big smile on his face. Putting out his hand for you to shake, “Best friends forever, and we never do this again?” 

You grinned back, “Duh. Best friends forever. I’m never kissing you again.” 

——————

Gerard hadn’t meant to see the kiss. He was only passing by, but the sound of your laughter had pulled him in. He leaned against the wall, next to the door that was slightly ajar. He just wanted to listen; hearing you speak filled him with something he couldn’t describe, it was addicting. Was that so bad? 

But then the room grew silent, and he could only hear the melody drifting through the door. Gerard was confused and shifted to peek in through the crack. 

The sight he saw broke him.

His brothers hand on your cheek. You both leaned in, a soft kiss being shared. 

Gerard felt like he was being gutted alive. His stomach twisted and lurched as his throat tightened. It hurt to breathe. He could barely breathe. Gerard grabbed a fistful of his hair and staggered back a bit, almost bumping into the wall behind him. He fought to keep the whimper that desperately needed to be let out from escaping. He couldn’t get caught; he knew that he was already risking so much. 

He didn’t want to see more. He couldn’t.

He rushed to his room, heart beating so fast he felt it thumping in his head. 

He threw the door open and shut it just as quickly, pressing his back against it. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, trying to catch his breath. A broken moan full of hurt came out from his lips, like he was choking on it. Every nerve of his was ignited with jealousy and something… darker. He tried to calm himself, repeating the phrase everything is okay, but the feeling of his stomach moving up his throat said otherwise. 

He knew you two were friends. Nothing more… right? His brother shared everything with him. He knew Mikey didn’t like you like that. But… did you feel something?

Gerard nearly decided to stay home from the party despite being excited about it earlier. But the picture of you dancing, surrounded by a bunch of Mikey’s guy friends, your kindness being shared to others, was too much. They’d take what wasn’t theirs.

He couldn’t stay back and not be able to do something. 

His mind was made up. He was going- not for the party- but just to… keep an eye. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

————— 

The house was already bustling by the time the three of you arrived. The music was thumping from inside and you felt a smile spread across your face as you all began to walk up the pathway. There were people on the lawn chatting, red solo cups in hand. Some were passing around a joint and noticed Mikey and began to shout greetings. 

He laughed and gave a wave as he continued to lead you up the path and onto the porch like he had done so many times before in high school. Gerard trailed behind the two of you, giving nods to a few of the guys he knew. He mostly focused on the two of you, eyeing to see if there was anything present. But you two acted as usual. 

Mikey looked back at you as he put his hand on the knob, “Sometimes it gets rowdy in here, just let me know if you need to leave.” 

You crossed your arms as you rolled your eyes, “c’mon Mikey. I’m sure you and I have done worse.” Mikey laughed, knowing you were right.

He opened the door, and the music immediately grew louder. As you all stepped in, the air immediately became heavier, sweat and cheap beer could be smelled. Multicolored lights were strung up across the ceiling, and you were pretty sure they were just Christmas lights. They still cast a hazy, uneven glow in the living room, which looked pretty cool. 

The house was packed, the couches were crowded as people sat down on them as well on the floor in front, chatting and passing around a joint. Plumes of smoke arose from their circle, which was illuminated by the colored haze from the lights. Someone grabbed Mikey by the shoulder and pulled him into a circle of faces you could recognize from pictures Mikey had shown you of his high school days. 

They all slapped his back, pulling him into tight half hugs and handshakes. You smiled at the sight, happy to see how many people love Mikey. He truly is such a likable guy. 

You looked to your right, and Gerard stood next to you, his face was unreadable as the warm lights cast a glow across his features. He let his lingering gaze on Mikey switch over to you, and his face softened. You felt the weight of his stare, heavy, like he was searching for something you couldn’t name. 

The music continued to blast. You smiled at Gerard and leaned in, breaking the tension. “I love this song!” You said loud enough for him to hear you. He was about to respond, as, for the first time today, a smile spread across his face, but was interrupted by a loud shout. 

“Gerard!” 

You both looked over at the source of the voice. You saw a boy roughly about your age wearing a smug grin. He had shaggy black hair and very pretty hazel eyes. You couldn’t help but stare, noticing a couple of tattoos he had on his arms. It looked like he was working towards building a full sleeve. You’d have to ask if you get the chance. 

You glanced back at Gerard. He looked annoyed, but not entirely upset. 

“Frank.” 

[ilyamustdie]

Not a request but I Wanna Know Your Name is so Polaroid Pictures coded

OH MY GODD anon you making this connection is beautiful to me. i totally see it.... this song is definitely when he first saw reader and slowly (it was very quick) got more and more obsessed

[ilyamustdie]

cannot wait for scrolling thru tumblr in october.......

[ilyamustdie]

HOLY SHIT I LOVE UR WRITING. GOING FERAL ITS SO AMAZING HRRFG THE PACING OMG? UR SO GOOD SNJAJSBFJDNDNDN NEW FAV WRITER

KISS ME ANON MWAHHH you are too kind thank you so much hehehehe you made my night :P

[ilyamustdie]

hii!! how are u? Idk if you'll feel comfortable writing this but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? (no idea if it makes sense in english lol) I'd like a smut kinda subby Gerard x afab reader, where the reader is the band's drummer, oral fixation (fem receiving) and degradation (maybe a little praise later?) Thank you anyways 🫡

sub!Gerard Way x drummer!reader ᢉ𐭩

tags: oral, fem receiving, slight degradation, teasing, desperate gerard, hair pulling, smut, fluff!!

wc: 1908

 A/N: hello, im good!!! finished an 8 hour shift and sat down to write this mwahaha, sorry if theres any errors! the phrase made sense dw hehe i completely agree with it :p i hope you enjoy <3

You guys had just finished a show in Seattle, Washington, and were currently on the long drive down to San Francisco, California. It was going to be a long drive, and you found yourself dreading it. You got car sick quite often because of the bus rocking back and forth, the constant accelerating and stopping through traffic, and you’ve never been good with motion sickness. You sighed and looked at the digital clock you had hooked up to your wall in your tiny rectangular cubicle that had your bed, located on the top bunk. It was late, an hour past midnight. 

You opened the curtain to peer out and see what everyone was doing. Most of the guys had already passed out, Ray had his headphones on while he faced the wall in bed, and Mikey was curled into a ball on the couch while he had his hoodie pulled up. You couldn’t see where Frank was as his bunk was below yours, but you could only assume the same. 

You spotted Gerard across from you on the neighboring top bunk, sitting against the wall with a sketchbook balanced on his knees. He felt your eyes on him and took out one of his wired earbuds to listen, “You okay?” He whispered across the narrow aisle, keeping his voice low not to disturb the others. 

There were darkish smudges underneath his eyes; he hadn’t successfully washed off the eyeliner yet. Sometimes, it lingered for more than a couple of days on Gerard. 

You gave a half shrug and then nodded slightly, “Just motion sick. Trying to ignore it right now,” you replied, whispering. 

Gerard let out a silent ‘oh’ and shut his sketchbook, pushing it off to the side. He turned his body towards you, his legs crossed, “Need anything?” 

He held a soft tone as he let his gaze stay on you. He was tentative, caring. Always with you.

His care wasn’t new; this thing between you and Gerard. This dynamic between the two of you had been building since the beginning, about a month after you started attending band practice. You two had just clicked. The late nights after shows where you’d follow him to the alleyway for a smoke break, the way he’d lay with you before shows if you were ever anxious, and the quiet conversations that turned into soft kisses. You had never labeled it, nor had a conversation about it. 

But you both knew. Gerard was yours, and you were Gerard’s. Exclusive in a way that you two were satisfied with, even if others didn’t know it. 

Gerard leaned closer to you, lowering his voice, “Wan’t me to lay with you? Might make it easier.” 

You smiled and nodded. 

Gerard, a little too eagerly, climbed down from his bunk and made his way up to yours. You shifted back against your pillow as he moved into the cramped space and lay right beside you, being mindful not to jostle you too much. 

With shoulder and hip pressed together, Gerard shut the bed curtain to block out any view of the two of you. 

“Better?” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear. You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut. Being so close to Gerard always did something to you. Breathing in, you took in his scent, which was cigarettes mixed with coffee; it felt familiar and grounding. 

Gerard’s hands fidgeted with the string of his hoodie as he did sideways glances at you; he didn’t know if he should touch you or let you be. It was honestly funny. He’d kissed you messily before, fucked you in hotel rooms, and whispered your name out as a prayer, but right in this moment, he was nervous. 

“Gee,” you murmured, facing him now. He met your gaze, lips parted a bit as he stared. 

A ghost of a smirk crept onto your face, “You can touch me, you know…” 

His eyes flickered with relief, want, something heavier that had been simmering within him for too long. He let his hand slide over to your waist and tenderly held you close to him. His thigh pressed firmer against yours as he shifted closer. The bus rattled down the highway, but all you could feel was Gerard’s touch. 

He shakily exhaled, leaning to whisper in your ear, his nose brushing your temple, “You sure? You don’t feel too sick?” 

“Not for you,” you whispered.

That was all it took. 

Gerard kissed you, desperately. He always did. He had always been so hungry for you, kissing like he was starving. His hand tightened on your hip as you pulled back for air. He chased your mouth, kissing you again with a soft, broken whine. 

You smirked at the sound and threaded your fingers through his tousled, dark hair, tugging him back just enough to see his face, “God, you’re so desperate, Gee. Always.” You murmured, tauntingly. 

His cheeks flushed in the dim light from the streetlamps outside the bus window, his eyes widening a bit as his lips parted, “I am not—“ 

“Yes, you are,” you interrupted as your thumb brushed across his bottom lip. His breath stuttered at your touch. “We just started kissing, and you’re already this worked up? You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” 

Gerard’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and gave a nod. He couldn’t even think of lying; he knew he would for you. His voice was barely a whisper as he replied, “You know I would…” 

The words hung heavy in the cramped space. His eyes were glassy and soft, never leaving yours, and you felt heat begin to pool low in your stomach at the sight of him. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing just slightly as you watched him shift his thighs, trying to be subtle. 

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “Say it. Say how badly you want me.” Your voice was low, sending a shiver through him as you spoke. 

You could feel his fingers twitch against your hip until he gripped you tighter as if to ground himself. “I want you so, so bad. I always do.”

As you pulled back, you couldn’t help but grin. You let a beat of silence pass, letting him squirm a bit under your stare before murmuring, “Good boy.”

“Want to make me happy?” You asked, which elicited an eager nod from him, “Then get between my thighs.” 

Your words left no room for argument, and Gerard listened immediately. He slid back between your thighs as you spread to make room, his eager eyes looking up at you. 

You leaned back against the wall of the bus lazily, “Go on. Show me what you can do.”

He let his hands grasp your thighs and slid up to your waistband. He teased at it, leaning down to brush his lips over your stomach. He breathed you in and nipped at your skin, pulling your shorts down. A soft, desperate whimper left him before he buried his face between your thighs, kissing you through the fabric of your underwear. He pressed his tongue against the damp fabric, groaning and sending vibrations through you. 

“Fuck,” you hissed as he sucked on you, now watching him rut forward on the bed. You pushed his head down hard and ground up against his mouth, “God, you’re pathetic. Getting off on eating me out?”

He let out a broken whine, muffled against your cunt as he pressed sloppy kisses all along the insides of your thighs. He didn’t argue. Didn’t even defend himself. Instead, he pushed harder, now hooking his fingers on your panties and feverently tearing them down. He dove back down and flattened his tongue against your cunt, lapping eagerly. 

You gasped, your hips twitched forward, and Gerard groaned, grabbing your hips to keep his mouth attached to your pussy. 

“Shit,” You hissed, tugging at his hair to make him look at you. “You’d spend hours like this if I let you, hmm?” 

“Fuck—“ he choked, voice breaking, “Yes, please—“ 

You smirked and lifted your hips up to get him to continue, and he happily obliged, diving in with hungry kisses. He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to bite back a moan, aware of the sleeping band members only feet away. 

“Fuck— Gerard—“ you whispered, jerking your hips up as your hand tangled in your own hair. 

He continued to rut against the bed for friction, completely lost in the act of devouring you. “You’re such a wreck, Gee,” you breathed out, taunting. He whined and nodded into your cunt, his tongue flicking desperately over your clit. He now held your legs open for him, your thighs pinned down by his strong grip, which left crescent markings from his nails. 

As you rode his mouth, your thighs began to tremble. He took it all, moaning and whimpering, letting you use him, his tongue sloppily working along your cunt as his whole body shuddered from how much he needed this. 

“Don’t—“ you gasped, “Don’t you dare stop,” you could feel your climax building as the sloppy, wet, and obscene sounds filled the bunk. To keep yourself quiet, you bit down on your hand, hoping to muffle the sudden moan that came. Your thighs squeezed around Gerard tightly, prompting Gerard to force his tongue in deeper, his nose pressed against your clit as if he couldn’t get close enough. 

“Fuck, Gerard- I--“ Your words broke into a moan, and you quickly bit your hand, your back arched as the climax tore through you. Your whole body trembled as your thighs desperately tried to close. But Gerard held you open, sucking at your clit through your release. You tried to push him back as you were so sensitive and overstimulated, but he growled into you with a shake of his head. His tongue continued to lap into you, refusing to stop until you were jerking and gasping, completely undone by him. 

It wasn’t long until the pleasure became too much, and tears pricked your eyes. You tugged his hair hard to pull him away, whimpering from his overstimulation. Gerard finally let you go, painting against your thigh as he rested his head on you, hair sticking out wildly from your grip. 

“Look at you,” you whispered, still catching your breath, your chest rising and falling at a fast pace, “Couldn’t even control yourself…” 

“You taste too good. I just— fuck, I needed it.” He said, looking up at you, lips parted and panting.

You smiled at him gently and began to stroke his hair lovingly, “You did so good for me,” you whispered. He let his eyes flutter shut as you played with his hair, a small and tired smile now resting on his face. You slid down the bunk a bit, your back now resting on the mattress, and held your arms out for him to join you. He moved without hesitation, crawling up beside you to bury your face into his chest. His arms wrapped loosely around your side and he let a satisfied hum escape his lips as he looked at you. 

The bus rocked gently, and you held him close to you, taking in his scent and listening to his heartbeat. This was your favorite part. After you put on that front full of degradation, you both always were so soft with each other, enjoying each other’s company. You smiled to yourself, knowing you had him completely. 

[ilyamustdie]

okay just so i get a general idea:

do u guys want me to focus more on... (theres one i want to do more BAHHAHA) i dont mean ill just do one of these options but ill focus more of my time onto the more voted one, but still distribute my focus !

let me know :P

requests! (i have about 12 to work on SORRY)

my original ideas for oneshots

summer in belleville

Voting ended onSep 11, 2025

theres a gerard request im working on rn ! ! !

[ilyamustdie]

hi guys! very slowly getting through requests :) just posted a frank x male reader, i hope you all enjoy! my goal is to try and write and post at least twice a week with my current schedule!! requests are currently closed right now but once i get through a majority of them feel free to send in more!! i love seeing u guys send in multiple at a time its so funny xP

[ilyamustdie]

heyo ilya, how are you doing? could i request a sub! frank iero x bandmate male reader during the prorev 2007 era? (if you’re not fine with male reader then that’s perfectly chill)

like something under the premise that frank is DOWN BADDD and like in love with the reader and making moves and flirting. however, the reader thinks that frank likes gerard so they’re just like ‘ok whatever’ to the flirting and just chalks it up to frank being frank. until one day frank just has enough and spills everything, trying to prove himself to reader and then like… idk sex ensues XDD?

thank you for reading, it’s perfectly alright if you don’t want to take this request (i’m assuming you take smut as i read it somewhere in your blog but if not just ignore this) please have a good rest of your day!! :))

ProRev!Frank Iero x male!reader ᢉ𐭩

tags: SMUT, blowjob, mutual pining, very slight angst, frank is a flirtttt, slight jealousy

wc: 3505

 A/N: HI CALX!! so sorry it took forever for me to get to ur request, i hope it lives up to the wait!! ive been good :P just super busy with work giving me more hours and taking 18 units this semester (if u dont know what that means it just means i have a huge workload for classes T_T) BTW this is my first male x male so i hope i wrote it okay! unfortunately didn't get to proofread so sorry for any mistakes :< wanted to get this out asap for u

It was the summer of 2007. You’ve been the drummer for MCR for a while now and have loved every second of it. Being on tour for Projekt Revolution has everything from smudged eyeliner, long drunken nights, and never enough sleep. You had gotten used to the lifestyle pretty quickly after the last few tours you had done with MCR. You were backstage, and God was it messy. Always messy. Sweat-slicked floors were littered with empty beer cans and water bottles crushed from people’s boots. The air felt thick as it was filled with smoke from cigarettes, fog machines, and sweat, and you could feel it cling to your skin.

You were exhausted, arms still shaky from the set you had just played. You let your body collapse onto a couch and sank back into the worn cushions, head rolling to the side as you tried to catch your breath.

But, of course, Frank was the opposite. He was constantly high-energy, even after coming off the stage. He vibrated off the walls practically. It was like the energy of the crowd coursed through his veins even when he wasn’t giving a show. He walked over to the couch you were slumped on, smirking as he looked down on you, one that seemed like he had been waiting all set to give. His eyeliner was smudged under his eyes, and his long hair was damp, sticking to his forehead.

“Hey, handsome,” Frank said in a playful tone, slumping down against you, letting his thigh press flush against yours, “You look like a wreck.”

You let out a genuine laugh that you could muster from your breathless state, “Thanks, Frankie. ‘Preciate it.” You tipped your head back against the couch and glanced at him, neck exposed and chest still heaving. 

Frank’s eyes lingered too long.

“Hey- wrecked in a good way,” he clarified quickly as he leaned close to you with a goofy grin. His voice dropped low like his words were raw and only meant for you, “Like— fuck. That was the best performance yet. You looked insane out there. Fucking hot.” 

You rolled your eyes and let your head lull to the side, facing away from him. Frank always did this. Always had a comment. Always had to lace his words with heat until they melted you.

Frank would flirt with everyone. Especially Gerard on stage, rubbing against him like a damn puppy and pressing his face against his back, chest, wherever, and fans would lose their minds. It was a part of the show. That was just Frank.

So when Frank would compliment you, maybe wink at you across stage as he was playing his guitar, or lay his head in your lap and tell you to play with his hair, you let yourself. You let yourself enjoy it. But you didn’t let yourself take it too seriously because you were afraid of the want of something more. Wanting more from Frank meant you had to open a door you weren’t sure you could handle if it was slammed in your face.

So you just chalked his behavior up to it simply Frank being Frank. He was messy, loud, and affectionate to a fault. 

And besides, you were sure he had a thing for Gerard. 

For Frank, though, it was an entirely different story.

He threw desperate smiles, winks, and laughs in your direction in the hope you’d catch and hold onto him. Every time he leaned against you, it was because he yearned for the feeling of your warmth against him. All silent pleas: see me, see me, see me. Just your touch alone made him feel like his entire body was buzzing.

When you laughed with other guys from the bands they’d tour with, when you leaned too close to some other musician backstage, Frank could feel his heart begin to ache. All he wanted to do was yell, tell you exactly how he feels, flirt, but with no hiding. He wanted you to himself… but instead he swallowed it. Buried it. What let Frank make some sort of peace with this was that it was safer. Safer to play it as a joke and pretend these feelings for you were all pretend. 

But as Frank sat here, watching your lips pressed against your bottle to take a swig of water, your throat bobbing as you swallowed, the sweat shining, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He wondered what it would be like to lean in and press his forehead against yours, pit his lips where the bottle had been. 

He wanted you completely. 

But you had no idea. 

And that was the worst part. 

Soon, the afternoon turned into the night, and all the touring bands had gone to a party, just like every night on this tour. Gerard and Mikey were taking shots with a group of guys, and girls were dancing under the flashing lights, their arms up in the air as they jumped and swayed. The energy was high, but you wanted nothing more than to step outside and get some fresh air, especially after those shots you took. 

You left the party and went outside, away from the sea of bodies and drunken laughter. It was hot outside, the summer air felt sticky and humid as crickets chirped. You walked over to a railing, overlooking a view of the city. It was a pretty sight, all the lights and headlights meshing into one. Tall buildings towered over, and you could only wonder what story each light had to tell. Who could be there, using the light? You pulled out a cigarette and lit it as you leaned against the railing. You didn’t even want to smoke; you just needed something to keep your hands busy. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” Frank’s voice cut through the hot air. 

You didn’t turn right away, but you immediately knew whose voice it belonged to. You heard his footsteps trail closer to you until he was right beside you, leaning against the rail. Once again, his hair was damp and his shirt clung to his sweat. Under the yellow glow of the lamp, he looked so kind. His eyes sparkled from the light, and it blurred into something vulnerable. 

“Couldn’t handle the circus inside,” you muttered, tapping the cigarette against the railing to watch the ash fall. 

A breathy laugh escaped Frank’s lips as he nodded, his arm brushing against yours. 

“You always disappear during events like these. Even after shows,” he said softly, almost accusing. He didn’t glance over, though, just focused on the lights.

“Not always,” you replied.

“Enough for me to notice.” 

You smirked, “Maybe I just like the quiet.”

“Maybe you just like avoiding me.”

That made you glance at him. He wasn’t smiling, and his eyes didn’t have the usual life that they held. He looked restless, hesitant, like there was more to say.

There was some truth to Frank’s words. You could admit that much, but you couldn’t tell him the reason. Sometimes you had to step away because being around him, watching the way he was able to freely touch everyone, drape himself across Gerard on stage, or light up when some stranger was giving him attention, made something sharp twist in your chest. It was jealousy you weren’t ready to face yet. 

So pulling back was the option you chose. You told yourself it was better to guard yourself rather than risk showing that the reason why you’d step away was because Frank had such a hold on you. That you left because you liked him too much. 

He shifted closer, shoulder brushing yours, voice low and unsteady. “You think I don’t notice? The way you disappear when it’s too much? Like you can’t stand being around me for too long?”

Your throat tightened. He was too close, too honest. 

Your voice came out hoarse, “Frank…” You wanted to tell him, but the words tangled and refused to come out. 

He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. “I’m not playing some stupid game. All those fucking desperate attempts, I try and make you see it. God— I’ve been trying but you just… pull away.”

His voice began to crack as your head hung low, “Do you even know what that does to me?”

You could only mutter his name again, this time a whisper. But Frank wasn’t going to let you slip away again. 

“Look at me.” 

Your shoulders tensed, and you could only let your eyes flicker to him and back to the ground. “B-but… You’re just fucking around. I mean— You and Gearrd practically make out on stage every night. I.. I’m just part of the act, right?” 

Frank shook his head hard, his hand now desperately grasping your shoulder. “That’s not what this is. That’s never what this was with you.” 

“Frank—“

Before you could finish, he cut you off, words spilling from his mouth like he would never get the chance again. “I don’t want Gerard. I don’t want anyone else— Fuck— Y/N it’s been you. It’s always been you. I can’t hold myself back anymore, God, I— fuck, I’m in love with you and it’s killing me that you don’t see it.” 

Silence, heavy and suffocating, stretched between you. Insects humming and chirping filled the night’s silence as, for the first time that night, you met his gaze. His chest heaved, and his eyes were glassy, like he just tore himself apart for you to decide to be with him or walk away. 

The ground felt like it shifted under you. Everything you had been wishing for from Frank had come true. You had always thought Frank had just been Frank, but now, standing there with his confession bleeding raw and unpolished, you knew this wasn’t an act. Not at all. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and the heat began to creep its way up your neck to your flushed cheeks. 

“Say something,” he begged, stepping closer as he faced you. His mouth trembled, trying to keep himself composed. His hands were at his sides, flexing and grasping onto his clothes, like he wanted to reach for you but was terrified you’d recoil. 

You swallowed hard, “Frank…” Your voice cracked, and his eyes squeezed shut, like he was preparing for the rejection. But you pushed your voice to work, “Of course I care. Fuck, Frankie I care so much it hurts.“ Your voice began to crack, and tears welled up in your eyes. 

His eyes snapped open and shot up to look at you with disbelief. 

“You think I’ve been avoiding you because I don’t want you around?” You said, scoffing as you shook your head. “I’ve been leaving all this time because I can’t bear watching you with other people. Watching you pressed against Gerard, or laughing at some random guy’s joke like he’s the only fucking one there. It— fuck— it makes me feel insane.” You confessed, letting your emotions spill out onto Frank. 

His breath caught and all he could do was stare at you. 

You turned your whole body toward him, staring down at the shorter boy. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you added, “I thought you wanted him. Anyone but me. I couldn’t deal with being treated as part of the act anymore.” 

“You wanted me?” Frank could only whisper, voice breaking as his hand reached for yours. 

Your jaw tightened as you corrected him, “Want.” 

A mix between a sob and a laugh left Frank as he threw himself onto you, putting his head in the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around you. His whole body shook as he was overcome with emotion, the weight of his confession now lifted. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around Frank, holding him finally after all this time of waiting. You tilted your head back, whispering his name into his ear. You forced him to lift his gaze, revealing his glassy eyes filled with desperation. 

That was all it took. 

You leaned in, and his lips crashed against yours like he had been holding back for a lifetime. Your kiss wasn’t gentle or tender; it was hungry. Frantic. The type of passionate kiss that knocked the air from your lungs. You felt Frank’s hand grasp the collar of your shirt to pull you in closer, as if there was anymore room to fill to begin with. 

You kissed him back with just as much urgency, sliding your hands up his body and landing in his hair. You threaded your fingers and gave a tug, hard enough to make him groan against your mouth. You felt the sound vibrate through you, hot and dizzying. You deepened the kiss, tasting his sweat, chapstick, and of course, a trace of nicotine. 

Frank broke away, his lips red and breath ragged, “Fuck— you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” 

You smirked, brushing your nose against his, “I think I might have a clue now.” You both laughed as he leaned in, kissing you like he couldn’t hold himself back. In a way, he couldn’t, and you let him, because for the first time, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore either. 

Frank reached up to cup your face and push you back, “Bus,” he rasped, nearly a groan, “Let’s go there.”

Your chest fluttered from his low voice, laced with desperation. Without hesitating, you grabbed his hand and tugged him along the dimly lit walkway to the bus. It would have been a very peaceful walk to enjoy, but your mind was preoccupied at the moment. 

The two of you made it to the tour bus and slipped inside. The bus was dark besides the glow of the streetlamps sifting inside through the thin curtains. Frank wasted no time and pushed you against the nearest wall, and let his mouth crash into yours as he pressed himself flush against your body. Your teeth grazed, and tongues collided as the kiss heated. 

You moaned into him, letting your hands slide under his shirt and rest on his waist. You gripped harder, and with a sudden rush of heat, you groaned and flipped him onto the couch behind him. 

“F-fuck,” Frank whimpered, breathing against your lips as he started to grind his thigh between your legs. “I’ve wanted this— you— for so fucking long, Y/N.” 

You cupped his jaw and looked him in the eyes in the dim light. You studied his face; he looked breathless, and his pupils were blown wide. God, he looked so gorgeous like this, wrecked, undone, yours. 

“Then take it.”

That was all Frank needed to hear. His smirk grew, and he scrambled to fumble with your belt and zipper, ripping it down to expose your underwear. He flipped you onto the couch with a giddy, breathless laugh and hovered over you, gazing down like he couldn’t believe this was real.

He pulled your skinny jeans all the way off, tossing them aside, and then just… looked.  He admired how your arms stretched above your head against the couch cushions, how your chest rose and fell, how your thighs were twitching from anticipation. His eyes lingered on the outline of your hard cock straining against your underwear, and he bit his lip hard.

He dipped down, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your stomach. You watched him as he eyed you from down there, moving down to the waistband. It was filthy and wet, and the noises that came from his kisses made your cock twitch. His hands slid down your sides, and he hooked his fingers with the band and began to pull down, slowly. 

You groaned as your cock sprang free; it was flushed and leaking. Frank couldn’t help but stare in awe, “Fuck…” he whispered, brushing his thumb against your hipbone. He leaned in, his lips ghosting the tip, teasing you with his warm breath. He heard you whimper and he looked up, through his messy hair, and gave you a soft smile. 

“Frankie,” you whined, twitching your hips up. That was all the permission he needed. 

He wrapped his lips around your length, sucking the tip lightly. He let his tongue drag along the underside, wet and messily. Frank let out a low moan, and you could feel the vibration shoot straight through you, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. 

“Holy shit,” you hissed, one hand gently resting in his hair while the other was gripping the couch cushion below you. Frank whimpered at the weight of your hand on his head, the sound muffling with his mouth stuffed full of you. He pushed you down deeper, slightly gagging but determined to continue. Frank had dreamt of this moment since he first saw you behind the drumkit, sticks spinning between your fingers. He was going to make sure he gave you the best head you’d ever have. 

You could feel how desperate he was, and the way his nails dug into your thighs was a confirmation. You bucked your hips up slightly, gasping at the warmth of his mouth. He whimpered and pulled off of you with a pop, and kissed your tip. 

His eyes flicked up to yours, “You taste so good,” he whispered hoarsely as he wrapped a hand around your length and began to stroke you slowly. Before you could even reply, he swallowed you down again. He grew sloppier, obscene noises filled the silence of the bus, and he spat onto your cock when needed. You praised him, moaning out his name, telling him how good he made you feel, and Frank ran with your reaction. It pushed him to go faster, to give you everything, and he rutted against the couch for friction as he doubled down, trying to take you even deeper. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. Watching him take you completely was just too much for you. You tugged on his hair until he looked up at you, “Frankie,” you rasped, “Open wider.” His eyes were glassy as he whimpered out, obeying your command. You pushed up into him, and you felt his throat tighten around you, causing a groan to emit from you. His eyes fluttered shut and he gagged softly, but this only spurred you on. 

You began to set a slow pace, rhythmically moving your hips up into his mouth as you held his hair tightly to keep him in place. His hands grasped your thighs tightly as you began to move faster, gasping from the way his tongue flattened against your base. You couldn’t hold back. You needed Frank. 

Frank was gone. His whines were pitched higher every time you hit the back of his throat, and his hips grinded into the couch like he couldn’t stop himself. His cock was straining tightly against his jeans; it was damp from the precum. He was chasing his release as you fucked his mouth. 

“Fuck, Frankie— look at you,” you groaned, tightening your grip in his hair. “You’re so desperate. Think you’ll come just from this?” 

He moaned around you, nodding as best he could while drool spilled down his chin. The sight made you snap, and your thrusts grew sharper. Frank’s entire body began to tremble as he humped the couch faster, on the verge of completely coming undone. 

A loud, muffled whimper vibrated around you, and you could tell Frank was about to finish. With a guttural groan, you yanked him off your cock by the hair as he began to tremble from his own orgasm. He gasped for hair, desperate moans with his chest heaving and face flushed. 

"Fuck you're perfect,” you growled as you got up to stand over him, taking your member into your hands. You started to stroke yourself quickly as he sat below you, watching your hand. The sight of him after his orgasm sent a surge of heat through you, and with a broken moan, you felt your release hit you hard. Your body crumpled forward as you kept your pace quick and came all over Frank’s face.

He moaned at the mess and shut his eyes. Some of it got on his lips, and he grinned, licking it up and swallowing. His eyes fluttered open and looked up at you, with the most blissed-out smile you’ve ever seen. 

“You look so good like this,” you whispered, your hand pushing on his shoulder to hold yourself up as you tried to catch your breath. 

Frank’s grin softened and he gently pulled you into his lap to hold you tightly. You two stayed there for a bit, enjoying each other’s company. His arms were wrapped around you like he was terrified you’d slip away now that he finally had you. 

Neither of you spoke, and listened to each other’s soft breathing. His forehead pressed against your collarbone, and he chuckled lightly. 

The only thoughts that filled the two of you were what the future held. And you both knew it was worth the wait. 

[ilyamustdie]

゛my masterlist! ⸝ ⸝ .ᐟ ⋆

will be updated as i go!

✘ - smut

♪ - fluff

𖦹 - angst

♂ - male reader

gerard way:

polaroid pictures ✘ ♪

thinking of you ✘

show me what you can do ✘ ♪

summer in belville: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

frank iero:

music boyfriend, i'm your yum-yum ♪

touch me ✘

look at you ✘

its always been you ✘𖦹 ♂

do you trust me? ✘

ray toro:

chords and confessions ♪♪♪

mikey way:

none so far!

[ilyamustdie]

Summer in Belleville

Ch. 4

Pairing: Basement!Gerard Way x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: creepy gerard, obsessive behavior, stalking mentioned, voyeurism, solo masturbation

word count: 2624

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

A/N: double update!!! sorry for leaving you guys hanging. this was supposed to be posted days ago :< THIS CHAPTER GETS.... heated. mweheheh....... i hope you enjoy!!!

Gerard sat on the couch, his palm curling around the delicate chain of your bracelet. All he could think about was how every time he saw you, you were wearing this piece of jewelry, and now he had it. Gerard felt selfish because in the back of his mind, he wanted to keep it for himself, maybe wear it whenever he missed you, which was quite often, relentlessly, but he knew you’d miss it. You’d search for it. Maybe pout, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle you being sad, especially because of something he did. He didn’t want to make you upset…

Gerard didn’t move until he heard the upstairs bathroom door click shut. You had been taking a shower, a long one, he noted. He rose and moved slowly up the stairs as he heard you pad across the floor above him, slipping into your room. With each step he took, his chest grew tighter as his mind churned. 

Should he just leave the bracelet on the table? Maybe just slip it under your door? But that wouldn’t give him what he wanted. He wanted to see your face when you saw it was him returning it. He wanted to hear the words ’thank you’ leave your lips meant only for him.

He took the last step and made it to the top of the stairs. The hallway was dim, only lit by the soft moonlight and low streetlamps that strained through the curtains. Gerard looked down the hallway towards your door and slowly put his foot down in front of the other, beginning to make his way to you. He moved soundlessly like a predator locked on its prey. 

At the end of the hall, your door glowed faintly with the lamplight slipping out. He slowed down as he neared, and he could hear his heart drumming in his ears. He reached your door and froze. It was cracked open, and the faintest line of golden light could be seen, catching Gerard’s breath. 

He shouldn’t look. He knew it. But his body betrayed him, slowly, carefully, he tilted his head and inched closer, putting his hand on the wall as he leaned in.

Through the gap, he could see you.

You stood at the foot of your bed, your shirt discarded, your bare shoulders softly illuminated by the lamplight. It painted your skin golden, soft, and dewy from the shower, each curve and contour of your body traced in the glow. Your hair was damp and spilling out onto your shoulders; some pieces clung to your neck. Gerard felt something tight begin to coil in his stomach as his throat went completely dry. He should have looked away. He really should have. But he couldn’t pry his eyes off of you. He couldn’t move at all. 

His eyes traced the subtle slope of your back and how the waistband of your pajama shorts perfectly accentuated your waist. You bent slightly, reaching into your duffel bag that was placed on top of your bed. Gerard’s knuckles whitened as he clutched the doorframe with everything he had. His whole body ached with the effort of holding himself back. You pulled out a camisole top, a black one with a dainty lace trim. 

Christ. Gerard found you beautiful in a way that just made him ache. You were completely ethereal. Gorgeous. Untouchable. And here he was, watching you like a shadow that stalked along, clinging to the walls. He felt disgusting for it, and he knew anyone who saw this would think he was disgusting. If you ever turned and caught him like this, you’d scream, berate him, hate him. 

But still. Gerard remained selfish. 

His breath came slow and calculated; he knew if he let even the faintest of noises slip, he might give himself away. He drank in the sight greedily and memorized every aspect of you that he could see. The sheen of water that still clung to your thighs because you didn’t fully dry, the dimples on your back that he wanted to trace, and mark as his own. 

When you pulled the top over your head, Gerard couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on your breasts. The way they shifted naturally with the movement made his chest constrict. The fabric of your shift brushed against your skin as you tugged it down, and Gerard felt his imagination begin to run. He wondered what it would be like to replace your hands with his, letting himself slowly slide up the fabric to reveal yourself again. This time for him. He’d do it slower, deliberately, and relish in that moment with you. 

He let his hand slip into his pocket and felt the bracelet once again in his palm. He felt ashamed as the hunger for you only churned and grew within his stomach, until he felt himself almost sick.

 You’re a creep. A pervert. 

And yet, his feet stayed planted right where he was, his eyes trained on you through the crack of the door, unable to look away. He could stay there forever, enjoying this secret view of you that only he could see. The guilt within himself began to rationalize: he’s only here to return the bracelet. You’d thank him and realize how kind a guy he is. He’s the good guy here, right? The quiet brother who just happened to see you dropped something and wanted to return it. 

And besides… if you didn’t want to be seen, you would have shut the door completely. Right? The crack, that perfect sliver of openness, it felt like an invitation you knew he’d accept.

Gerard had gotten worked up from the sight of you alone and let out a quiet, shaky breath. The sight of you, of your bare skin and your chest breathing beneath that thin fabric, was enough to completely undo him. He shifted slightly, exhilarated and mortified all at the same time, as his jeans had grown uncomfortably tight. 

He adjusted his pants as he continued to watch you, his jaw clenching. He knew he had to end this moment; you were dressed and presentable. It was his time to return your possession. 

The bracelet’s chain dug into his palm as he curled his fist tighter around it. He stared at it, willing it to ground him. You’re just returning it. That’s all. Nothing more. She’ll smile, she’ll thank you, she won’t know a thing.

His heart thudded against his ribs as he finally peeled himself away from the crack in the door. Each step back felt reluctant, like his body wanted to stay in the shadows, watching you. But he forced himself to move, lifting his fist to knock before he could change his mind.

A soft knock against the wood. Once, twice. His knuckles brushed the surface, almost tender. He swallowed down the tremor in his throat, angling his body slightly to the side, trying to mask the obvious strain in his jeans with the way he held the bracelet.

The door creaked open after you replied with an acknowledging hum, allowing him to come in. Gerard could get a better view of you now that you were right in front of him, rather than being peeked at through a crack. He could see the way your shirt had clung to your skin tighter in places you hadn’t fully dried yet, causing his heart to skip a few beats. 

“Uh, hey,” Gerard’s voice cracked, and he cleared it quickly, lowering it to a quiet, careful tone. “You, um… You dropped this. During the movie, I saw it when I was getting up,” the chain glinted a bit in the light as he held it up steadily despite his nerves and racing heart. 

You blinked at him in surprise, your gaze falling down to his extended hand where your bracelet was. Your eyes lit up, and you gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen. 

“You found it! In the shower, I couldn’t remember if I even had it during the movie or if I dropped it when I was out with Mikey at that store…” You explained to him, almost sheepishly. 

Gerard’s eyes softened, and he gave a faint smile as he kept his eyes level with yours. “Yeah, it was on the couch. Figured you’d—“ he cleared his throat,  “Want it back. It seems like you wear it a lot.” He made his tone casual, light, like he hadn’t plotted around this bracelet for the past 2 hours. 

You reached out, your fingers brushing his hand as you took the bracelet out of his hands, “Thank you,” you said softly. 

Even though there was barely any contact, Gerard swore he felt a surge of electricity course through him the moment you touched him. God, he felt like he was on fire. This wasn’t good for his current situation down there, and he shifted his weight a bit, trying to ease the strain. He even fisted his hand at his side, digging his nails into his palm to ground himself. He could only pray that you didn’t see. 

“You’re very sweet, y’know that?” 

Sweet. 

The word echoed in Gerard’s mind like a curse, because if you knew what he had just done, what he had just watched, you would have never even thought it to begin with. But Gerard happily accepted the compliment from you, his heart fluttering, and his hunger for you grew. 

“No problem,” he replied as smoothly as possible, eyes lingering on your figure once more before heading straight for the hall. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

The second he stepped out of your room, he felt like he could properly breathe again. He let his figure linger outside your door for longer than he should have, and slowly walked down the hall. His feet felt like one anchor after another, pulling his body back. He didn’t want to leave you there, no, he wanted to keep you company, talk to you, learn more about you. But now was not the time. 

Not with his current issue. 

By the time he made it back to his room, he was shaking. He quickly shut the door and leaned against it with his head tipped back and throat bobbing. His chest rose and fell as he closed his eyes; the image of your bare torso burned into his memory.

The bracelet was gone from his hand, but the ghost of your fingers lingered on his skin. That simple brush, that thank-you, was enough to set him on fire. He grasped his painfully tight jeans, trying to calm himself. But the evidence of what he had just seen was pressing relentlessly against the restrictive fabric. 

“Sweet,” he muttered, repeating what you had called him. He savored your words, but he knew it was a lie. A lie you didn’t know you told. If only you knew. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he dragged himself away from the door and stumbled toward his bed as he began to unbuckle his belt, slinging it off. His sketchbook lay open on his nightstand, and a half-finished portrait of you stared up at him. You were everywhere he went. With a low, pent-up groan, he let himself fall backwards onto his bed, cluttered with comics and dirty laundry. 

His hand began to slide down, fumbling with the buttons of his jeans, shoving the denim down, and freeing himself from the restraint. He felt shame as he began to palm himself, but not enough to stop him. It was never enough. His boxers were slightly damp from his precum, and with a shaky breath, he pushed the fabric off to free himself completely. 

His palm wrapped tightly around his length, and his jaw clenched; every image of you tonight flooded his mind. Gerard began to pump himself slowly, already a whimpering mess. His mind was stuck on the way your fingers brushed his hand, and he wondered how you’d touch him right now. If your grip were tight like his, or if you’d be softer and curious, exploring him. 

“God…” he hissed, his voice raw. He pictured the way you thanked him, your lips curling into a sweet smile. You had called him sweet, and he let out a low laugh. You really thought he was the quiet, harmless one. What would you think if you could see him now? What he had been thinking while you were just feet away? 

As his strokes grew rougher, his breathing began to quicken. The feeling of this being wrong made it so much hotter. Knowing he crossed a line as he lingered at your door, he bit down on his lip, his head thrown back. His hand was slick from precum and felt unbelievably warm as he jerked himself. A wet noise filled the room, filthy and obscene. 

His eyes were shut tight as he let himself visualize you better, the way your hair was damp after the shower, the curve of your hips shown from your miniature shorts you wore to bed. He couldn’t help but let out a whimper. A benefit of Gerard living in the basement was that, most of the time, he could be as loud as he wanted and no one would hear. 

His body began to twist, searching for you as if he could get closer by visualizing you harder. He wanted you. He wanted you to stroke him instead, and the thought alone made him buck up into his fist. He let out a strangled moan as he sat up and grabbed the open sketchbook. He flipped to another page, one he had previously finished. It was of you, posed more provocatively, a pose he could only wish to maybe see one day in person. 

Gerard had spent hours on this drawing, the detail of the shading, the light in your eyes, the strands of your hair; it looked real in his haze of lust. 

“F-fuck..” he stuttered out, his voice shaking as he propped the book open with one hand and desperately stroked himself harder with the other. His eyes traced his drawing and swiped his thumb over lightly, as if he could actually feel and touch you.

His mind replayed tonight, picturing what it would have been like if you caught him. Maybe- maybe you’d be as twisted as him. You’d turn around and see him peeking through, and after getting through your initial shock, you’d smirk. Maybe you’d call him forward and grab him by the collar. Maybe you’d punish him. Or maybe, you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you. That thought alone almost undid him completely. 

His breath stuttered as he jerked himself harder, causing his thighs to tremble. From his left hand, the sketchbook fell out of his grasp and landed half onto the bed, half on his thigh. Your penciled figure stared up at him as he felt his whole body tighten. His climax tore through his body, and he cried out your name, repeating it as his cum shot out, covering his hands, thighs, and the drawing. 

For a moment, Gerard slumped back on his bed as his chest heaved. Hair stuck to his face as beads of sweat had begun to form; he didn’t even bother to push it back. He just looked at the mess he caused, the cum stains spawled out across his thighs— and his drawing of you. 

God, is that not the most pathetic thing? He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you on the page, looking at how he covered you in himself. 

But he knew the paper wasn’t enough. He already began to crave you again, and a drawing wouldn’t be able to satisfy him again.