preview: cockwarming with gerard on the tour bus where you both feel every single bump and vibration from the road. of course he can't help but end up fucking you.
word count: 753
being on tour with my chem was a dream come true for everyone involved—you included. you knew how important touring and performing was to gerard, so much so that he would exhaust himself to no end by the end of every show, yet would do it over and over again just for his sole love of the craft.
because of the close proximity of the shows and the uncertainty and cost of airfare, traveling via bus was a given, and of course you were welcomed onboard as gerard's long-term partner. tour bus life was cramped and you got to know the other my chem members deeply living in such close quarters.
after most show nights, you two found yourselves tucking in to the small tour bus bunks from pure exhaustion (gerard moreso than you). you would climb in first, facing the wall, and gerard would climb in behind you, spooning you from behind.
and every night, gerard would immediately get hard as soon as you did this.
"i'm gonna put it in." he mumbles against your hair and you let out a gasp as your arousal grows. you feel him find the waistband of your pants and slide them off just enough to access you.
this was standard operating procedure at this point. gerard was obsessed with fucking you, sure, but he LOVED cockwarming, loved feeling you around him.
gerard shimmies his sweats as much as the minimal space in the bunk will let him as he frees his cock, giving it a few strokes.
he feels his way around in the dark, the grooves in the road only slightly derailing him before he slides his cock into you with a quiet whimper against your shoulder.
he feels you throb around him and lets out a hiss. "easy, babe."
you breathe out, getting used to the feeling of him inside you. you do everything in your power to avoid lifting your hips up to sink yourself back down on to him, but you hold yourself back.
gerard often does this for comfort, to decompress after the sheer amount of energy he uses for every show. you would hate to spur him on knowing how exhausted he is.
he slings his arm around your waist when he finally feels comfortable and presses a kiss to your neck, muttering a tired "i love you, baby."
"i love you more." you whisper back as your eyes close, slowly drifting to sleep from the lull of the bus.
you jolt awake with a whimper when the bus hits a particularly rough pothole in the road. gerard lets out a quiet wince and shifts his hand down to your hip to steady himself. you felt too fucking good around him.
the shakiness and abrupt jolts of the bus cause gerard's still cock to shift and unintentionally thrust up into you. a moan threatens to leave your lips as the sensations from the movement of the bus as a result of the bumpy road send shockwaves straight to your core.
gerard, slightly more awake now, notices your reaction and sneaks his hand up to your mouth. "shhh, we have to keep it quiet, baby."
gerard slowly rocks his hips up into yours and you shut your eyes in focus, craving release. he lets out quiet grunts as he picks up his pacing, drawing silent pants out of you.
because of your initial arousal and the soft vibrations from the tour bus, your release comes quickly.
"gerard," you whine in a whisper, clenching around his cock. "i'm so close."
"fuck." he mumbles into your shoulder, pressing his mouth into it in hopes of silencing his moans. he shifts his hand back to your hips with a grip that is sure to leave bruises. "cum on this cock, baby. cum with me."
your hand finds your way to his hair, tugging and pulling at it. your mouth gapes open, your throat almost hurting from holding back the moans as you cum.
when he feels your insides squeezing him, gerard bites into your shoulder, filling you up with his release. his hips stutter and you feel his grip on you loosen.
you let out a content sigh, feeling the warmth inside you.
gerard wraps his arm around you, bringing himself even closer to you and enjoying the warmth radiating from you as his cock starts to soften inside you. "that was hot." he rasps out.
you let out a small chuckle, shifting your head slightly to kiss his nose. "goodnight gerard."
preview: frank iero is a lowkey stoner and you're on the cheer team. he's just got a face that looks like he was born to eat pussy and you take advantage of that fact every fleeting moment that you can, even if you're still in your cheer uniform.
word count: 1261
frank iero’s just got a face that looks like he was born to eat pussy and you took advantage of that fact every fleeting moment that you could.
during the day, it was the usual ‘emo stoners don’t affiliate or look in the direction of cheerleaders’ trope. it’d be a total social suicide.
you were an outcast among most of the cheerleaders who really didn’t have personalities aside from being basic. you and frank had actually bonded over your love for music, passion for movies, and your hobby of playing video games. you couldn’t make those hobbies (and your affiliation with frank) known to the rest of your cheer squad because they wouldn’t get it. it would only widen the gap in the relationship between you and the team and you definitely didn’t want to deal with their judgment if they found out you were fraternizing with a guy who wasn’t a jock.
on game days, however, when you had some time to spare before meeting up with your team, frank would pick you up in his old toyota camry with a wide grin on his face. you know better than to arrive in frank’s car with game day make-up (knowing it would end up ruined), yet despite your bareface, he greets you with a “hey beautiful” everytime, without fail.
frank loved game days. not because he was particularly into football, but because he knew those were the surefire days that he could see you without worry of the other cheerleaders’ and general student body’s opinions and gossip. you both agreed it’d just be easier to avoid getting caught for fear, making your arrangement even more enjoyable.
he also knew that on game days, you didn’t have much time to go all the way, and whatever you did in this time frame would be quick and dirty. and he loved every second of it, every second that you were frank’s secret and he was yours.
social status aside, frank was an easy 10. his eyes were gorgeous hues of hazel and grey and if anyone were to make eye contact with him, they’d find themselves staring. not that anyone took that chance though, as most times his eyes were hidden by his black box-dyed fringe that swept to the left of his face. coupling his hair with his apparent nose and lip piercings, it’s no wonder most people found him intimidating and standoffish.
the more you had gotten to know him, the more you found out just how charming frank was, not just in courting you, but in getting you off.
he drove you both to your usual spot, an empty cul-de-sac with a distant view of the neighborhood. as soon as the car engine turned off, you unbuckled your seatbelt, ready to follow your usual routine.
“we don’t have much time today, frankie,” you said with a slight pout as you ungraciously climbed into the back.
frank watched with a smirk, eyes trained on your uniform skirt, swinging his arm to land a slap onto your clothed ass. you let out a small giggle as he climbed in the backseat with you, hazel eyes piercing into you.
“i don’t care.” he rasps out. it’s only a matter of seconds before he wraps a steady hand around your waist and snakes the other into your hair. “i just want to make you feel good.”
frank attaches his lips to yours out of pure desperation and desire which you match easily.
“i will never get tired of seeing you like this.” he mutters in a low voice against your lips, eyes slightly ajar. “so glad i’m the only one that gets to taste you.”
you almost let out a sigh of pleasure when you feel his lip ring grace your bottom lip. it was one of your favorite parts about frank. another one of your favorite parts about frank is that he’s an absolute munch.
frank removes his black hoodie and black and white striped t-shirt, revealing his scattered tattoos on his chest. he lays on his back, legs bent to fit on the cramped seats.
you find his hands, using them to help balance yourself as you maneuver over his body. you lift up your shell top, frank’s eyes trailing to your perfect tits as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the view.
you flash him a teasing smile as you reach down to remove your skirt, searching for the button when he interrupts.
“keep the skirt on, please.” he begs, puppy dog eyes staring up at you.
you bite your lip, removing your spanx and ruined underwear from under your skirt before you climb over frank’s eager face.
you sink down onto his face slowly and he graciously accepts, his breath causing you to clench around nothing and frank swears it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
when his mouth finally meets your pussy, you let out a choked out moan.
frank groans against your core, arms curving underneath and then over your thighs to steady his grip as he devours you.
“fuck frankie.” you let out, mouth agape in pleasure as your hand finds his hair, toying with and tugging at the black, stringy locks.
he laps up at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever get and he always savors every minute he gets to have you on his tongue.
frank’s own pleasure be damned. even if his prominent erection was neglected, he didn't care. he would rather focus on you, your pleasure, and ruining your perfect pussy.
he tongues through your folds with fervor and the sensation prompts you to begin to rock your hips against his mouth in a steady motion.
frank can’t help the whine that gets caught in his throat. he loves when you use him to reach your orgasm.
“i’m cumming, frankie.” you mewl out, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans against you, his hips rutting the air, wishing he could fuck you.
you ride out your high, your thighs unintentionally squeezing frank’s face as he moans against your pussy. he could die happily sandwiched in your thighs if you would let him.
you reorient yourself on his lap to give him the space to breathe. frank can’t help but flash you a fucked out grin, fluids coating his cheeks and chin. he stares up at you through heavy eyes, taking in just how perfect you look on top of him.
you smile at him, leaning down to give him a final kiss before you have to get your uniform back on.
frank sits in the stands of the student section accompanied by his friends and steals glances at you performing your sideline cheers. when halftime rolls around, frank keeps a close eye on you as you gather with your team in the middle of the field for your halftime routine.
“c’mon frank.” gerard calls out, breaking frank out of his chance. “we’re going to get nachos at the concession stand.”
“nah, you guys go ahead. i’ll stay here and watch.” frank says with a nod.
“keep dreaming, iero.” ray snorts as he, gerard, and mikey stand up from the bleachers and begin to file out of the row.
frank returns his attention to the field and notices you looking in his direction, a smile finding its way unto his lips. you place your palm against your lips and shoot him a kiss from several yards away, a wide smile adorning your face.
he catches it, knowing he doesn’t have to dream to have you.
i have been suffering from baby fever and i can't help but fantasize about girldad!frank!!!
just imagine dad!frank with your baby girl :(
always so reckless and unserious about most things, but the second he sees your baby, he straightens up his posture and is the most still he's ever been in his life
fatherhood does wonders for him, smooths out all his rough/rowdy edges and stabilizes his mind.
dad!frank who usually plays pranks on friends, throws out offensive insults to people like its nothing, and who typically has no regard for decorum or appropriate behavior is now telling everyone off for being too loud or rowdy ("hey, no funny business in front of my baby"), biting back remarks even when people piss him off because he doesn't want "his" baby to be an asshole (like he is), and even censoring his swearing when he's holding your baby ("you mother-EFFER," "shut the HECK up").
dad!frank who responds to your baby's coos in a normal speaking voice because baby talk is for dumb idiots and your baby is above that
"hi sweetheart. you been good for your mom today? do you want to see some rad guitar equipment i just got in the mail? you're going to play with these one day. let's start now." frank says, making direct eye contact with your baby as your kid just stares up at him blankly, unable to speak because she's literally just a few months old
dad!frank who takes you both on tour with him regardless of where he goes because he can't stand to be away from either of you
dad!frank nearly cries when you surprise him with those tiny soundproof headphones for your baby so she can safely watch him shred onstage
"my beautiful partner and our beautiful child are here at the show tonight," he announces with so much pride he could burst. "but i guess we're not any good because my baby is so bored, she fell asleep."
dad!frank noticing you and your baby girl in front of the main stage and cheesing at you both while also making exaggerated and silly faces at your little one (and the crowd eats it up)
dad!frank who will drop anything, even an afterparty for a show or even if he hasn't slept due to the crazy touring schedule, to help you feed, change, and anything else to take care of your baby
dad!frank who will gush about her every chance he gets, saying things like "look at her, i made that."
he always makes sure he's a hands-on parent and loves when he gets to bond with your daughter
"babe, come look at this." he'll call out to you, and when you find him, he's styling your baby girl's hair (or whatever hair she has at the moment) into gel-filled, mini liberty spikes. he's also mastered pigtails and is even practicing how to braid on your hair for when your daughter's hair gets long enough.
dad!frank has a million photos of his baby, especially during shenanigans like this
dad!frank who records and samples your daughter's first words because how could he not when she first said "dada" (and yes, he rubbed it in your face)
he's the perfect dad - patient for no one except his girls, who raises the bar of what a perfect gentleman should be, who always makes sure your house is filled with music and laughter, and who loves on both of you unconditionally
hello…. perhaps a super fluffy fic with current!gee? he just looks so cuddleable grrrrr
if i could be with you tonight
note: thank you so much for requesting! hope you enjoy! ^^; and thank you for 150+ followers and so close to 200! the title is from the light behind your eyes. enjoy!
pairing: current!gerard x gn!reader
tags: FLUFF, domestic gerard, gerard and reader are married, reader's age is undisclosed
preview: gee was always determined to spoil you - from the time you two started dating to getting married and of course, until now (not that he hadn't already been spoiling you).
word count: 1224 words
even while on tour when he'd leave for weeks at a time, he never missed scheduling his weekly flower deliveries to you where he'd woo you through the words in his short yet sentimental cards. he never failed to send you affectionate good morning and good night voice memos no matter the time difference and he always sent you beautiful postcards from every city he was in, even if he only stayed in the area for mere hours.
all that to say, gerard would be anyone's dream significant other. distance be damned, he always made you feel loved, made you feel seen.
those feelings of love only increased when you were both reunited again in your shared home.
being home together as of late, however, was now a rarity and with gerard and my chem's preparations for the next leg of the tour in full swing, he made sure he spent every free day taking you out on cozy dates.
today was no different.
you stir awake at the feeling of something on your temple as you slowly gain consciousness. gerard, adorned in his usual black band tee and pj pants, is leaned over you with a sweet smile as he goes in to press a kiss against your cheek once more.
"good morning, sweet thing." he smiles sweetly at you, eyes filled with adoration.
you sit up in bed, his worn beige flannel drooping lazily off your shoulder as you slowly blink awake. he lets out a small chuckle before reaching over to your bedside table to grab the hot vanilla latte he made for you. your hands meet his, carefully transferring it from his grasp to yours before taking in the sight of slightly wobbly heart-shaped art.
"good morning, honey." you mumble sleepily before taking a sip. the taste rolls on your tongue and you let out a delighted hum at the drink. "you're getting really good with the latte art, gee."
"you flatter me." he says in a playful tone. "but maybe i should just stick to comic book art."
"it's a good thing you're a man of many talents," you say and sigh contentedly, the caffeine finally working its magic.
gerard kneels beside your bed, his upper body finding purchase in your lap as you continue to take sips of your drink. you lower one of your hands into his brown, salt-and-peppery hair noticing the contrast between his hair and the shine of the ring he gave you all those years ago, stroking lightly through his thinned locks.
"how do you feel about picking up some new stationary today?" he proposes. "you could pick up a new journal or anything else you need? stickers? washi tape? maybe a new fountain pen."
"plus," he pauses, chewing on his lip slightly as his eyes droop, almost as if he would rather skip what he was about to say altogether. "i need more letter sets for when i have to go on tour again."
his words claw at your chest despite knowing that this was the sacrifice that came with this job that he loved.
to prevent the mood from dimming, you nod softly. "that sounds perfect, gee."
when you two finally make it to your favorite stationary store, one you two had been shopping from before you both were married, you tag along with gerard as he goes through the letter sets, you two gaze at the assortment of pens together, and by the end of your browsing, both of you had accumulated a basket of goods (some yours, most gerard's), all of which gerard paid for (despite your protests).
"gerard, i can pay for my own things."
"don't care." he bites back with a smirk, reaching for all your bags because even after your long shopping day, he wanted to prove that chivalry wasn't dead. "i'm going to keep spoiling you until i can't anymore."
because of the recent resurgence of gerard's popularity and relevance in the public eye, you both decide to get take-out at your favorite restaurant - however, if you were speaking honestly, you knew yourself and your husband both preferred eating in the comfort of your own home anyway.
after your eventful time in town and after arriving home with your take-out, you both end up where you usually do - in your very cozy living room of which the walls were littered with framed photos of you and gerard over the past years - specifically on your sectional (which had been arranged into a bed formation the day gerard returned from tour).
you're situated on your back, nestled in your softest blankets with gerard's head, arm, and leg outstretched over you - like he's scared that if he doesn't physically hold you, he'll be in pain. the sounds of scott pilgrim echoing quietly throughout the room, your post-meal fullness, and gerard, your human weighted blanket, all lull you into a state of pure bliss.
you feel gerard trace his fingers on your skin underneath the blankets, each caress featherlight. you know that soon he will have to leave your home for several months and that the scene of you in this exact spot will not be as warm or tender, so you bask in the moment.
you enjoy gerard's touchiness, his craving to literally cling onto you every second. you lean down to press a soft kiss into his hair and wrap your arm around him a little tighter as he leaned even closer into you. gerard loved being the little spoon.
"i'm going to miss you." you admit softly into his thinned, salt and peppered locks.
time had been immensely kind to gerard, the only real difference between now and then being that his hair had greyed, the creases on his face deepened, and his voice had gotten slightly higher pitched, but despite it all - he was still your gerard.
you don't fail to catch the slight quiver in gerard's lip as his eyes meet yours. "come with me."
"gerard-"
"please." he begs gently, his stare holding yours. "come with me on tour. you could be with me the whole time, at all the stops."
truth be told, you never imagined that you would get to go on tour with gerard. mcr had broken up before you and gerard became serious. even during the reunion, you hadn't gone with them due to the sudden global pandemic. this was your chance.
"we have been wanting to travel more." you state with a growing grin.
gerard shoots up from his position, leaning over you. "really?"
you nod with a laugh as he wraps his arms around you in excitement. he peppers kiss after kiss all over your face, hugging you tighter.
"baby, it's going to be so great. you could help me rehearse for all the new lore additions we'll be adding- god- it's going to be a lot of fun. i get to finally show off my beautiful partner."
gerard continued to gush about the plans for tour, of the exploring you would do at each tour stop - scott pilgrim long forgotten. sure, the day's efforts of getting gerard new letter sets had gone to waste, but you didn't care and gerard especially didn't care - what made his home home would be accompanying him on tour and with him every step of the way.
SUPPLEMENTARY WORK TO THE KIND OF HUMAN WRECKAGE THAT YOU LOVE
pairing: frontman!frank iero x cheerleader!reader
preview: all the time you spend "hanging out" with frank at his place starts to feel like more than what you bargained for. after finally agreeing to attend one of his shows, seeing him onstage with a crowd of girls thirsting over him hits you harder than you expect, even if you were the one in his bed just hours prior.
word count: 1513
dedications: to my sweet sunflower anon! this one's for you!
a few months after your arrangement began (and during basketball season when the cheer team had significantly less commitments to practice), you had begun to spend more time with frank in secret, mostly at his house.
you had come to find that his parents left the house early and came home late from their respective jobs, leaving the house empty in case frank needed to practice playing for gigs (like the one he was prepping for tonight) or in case he partook in other loud activities.
your eyes were trained on the way frank strummed along his guitar, enamored by the way his fingertips poked out of his skeleton gloves and bounced along the fretboard. you took in the sight of his long, stringy fringe bouncing lightly as he bobbed his head along to the riff he played.
“you look so cool.” you mumbled in awe from his bed. “i would love to see you play tonight.”
frank pauses his playing to stare at you with slight shock.
“you really want to?” he asks, a small smile forming on his lips as you nod solemnly.
although he loved to see you adorned in your school’s colors on your cheer uniform, seeing you in normal clothes also drove him crazy. he set his guitar against the stand before turning his attention back to you sprawled out onto his bed.
within seconds, he pounced on you, his lips immediately finding their way to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck where he could breathe in your perfumed skin and linger his open-mouthed kisses just a bit longer. your breathy giggles and mewls echoed throughout the room, only egging frank on further.
he could never admit out loud how much it turned him on to see you in his dark, poster-ridden room, trad in the cutest printed cardigans and jeans that perfectly accentuated your figure. the contrast was night and day and boy did he appreciate the change.
“god, frankie.” you gasped out, fingernails digging into his back. “don’t stop.”
he groaned, shutting his eyes at the sensation. he loved when you’d claw and leave scratches along his spine as it was the only tangible proof that you were his.
he continued his assault along your neck, kissing and sucking lightly and carefully so as not to leave any hickies.
you leaned your head up slightly, causing frank to cease his movements.
“you can mark me if you want to.”
frank bites his lip, teeth clashing slightly with his lip ring, to prevent a moan from slipping out.
your initial rules for hooking up were simple, justifiable. no going out in public together, don’t interact at school, don’t leave any traces. frank had always craved to see what your skin would look like after he ravished you and that time had finally come.
he obliged, littering the flawless skin of your neck with little bruises of various shades of magenta-ish hues, committing each one to memory.
“don’t you have to leave for the gig soon?” you whimper out, the feeling of frank’s lips against your skin sending ripples and heat waves straight to your core.
frank smirked and pulled back, his steady fingers making way to your jeans, unbuttoning them. he rolls them down gently, just enough to have access to your clothed pussy.
“just let me take care of you, princess.” he mumbles against you before plunging his partially gloved fingers into your heat.
you throw your head back against his pillow as his calloused fingers thrust into you. on a more ideal occasion, he’d go slower to savor you, but on nights like tonight, he knew he had to be quick and messy, just the way he liked you.
frank pumps his fingers in and out of you in a frenzy, making you moan out at each flex and abrupt jolt of his fingers.
frank ignores how your arousal seeps into the fabric of his gloves, instead intently focusing on your breathy whines, the sound of your wetness, and feeling the way you contract around his fingers when he finds the spot that drives you crazy.
he knew you were too good for him and that he didn’t deserve your attention, but he lived for the way you buckled under his touch. he longed to adore you softly like a treasure and then wreck you until you were nothing but a heap of desperation. he desired you in ways that scared him. he craved you.
you feel the familiar build of your release deep in you as frank continues his onslaught on your pussy, fingering you fast and hard. he reaches his other hand to roughly grind his fingers against your clit, stimulating you all too quickly.
it almost gets to be too much.
“frankie.” you whine out desperately, your fingers finding purchase in his hair and tugging roughly. “i’m so close.”
“cum for me, sweet girl.” he purrs, his sultry gaze steady on your contorted facial features to make sure he witnesses you topple over the edge.
you bite down hard on your lip as you let out a guttural groan, cumming all over frank’s skeleton gloved fingers. he keeps his fingers still until you’ve ridden out the waves of your orgasm before removing them to lean down and kiss your raw, bitten lips.
it should not have come as a shock to you that frank’s band was popular among the locals as he was obviously incredibly talented, partly due to the raw talent and partly due to him putting all the effort that should have gone into his school work into his playing. frank was especially popular amongst local girls in the area who flocked in numbers to witness his stage presence. surely if you had found him attractive, others would too, but a feeling still sat heavy within you.
the entire stage area had been crowded from the moment you entered the establishment, and because this was your first experience in the scene (as frank loved to gush about), you had decided to linger towards the back, what you deemed was a safe distance away from the seasoned attendees who frank warned you could get rowdy.
you thanked your own judgment as soon as frank and his band started playing. the bar sparked to life the second frank started screaming into the mic.
you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged its way onto your lips as you watched frank come alive, especially after noticing he kept his fingerless skeleton gloves on after your time together earlier. he thrashed about with his guitar any moment he wasn’t focused on the mic, putting every inch of his body to work as he battled through each song which only excited the crowd further.
it wasn’t until midway through the set that the screams from the girls at the foot of the stage started to phase you, but the sweatier frank got, the more feral the girls became. you tried to ignore the budding jealousy in your chest as a result of the crowd’s constant doting on frank.
regardless of anything said during the times you were intimate with each other, frank didn’t really belong to you. it was a cold, hard, sobering truth that you were neither his and he was not yours.
despite the ethereal view of frank onstage and even despite the events that transpired in his bedroom before the night began, a part of yourself that you didn’t know existed had made itself known in that moment.
you felt your throat close up, heart sinking. a part of you wanted him.
the admittance of those feelings to yourself made you want to hide like a coward. they swirled in your stomach with a queasiness.
above everything, you felt stupid. you had been the one to set the boundaries when your arrangement first began, worried that frank would get the wrong idea and develop feelings for you, but it was you who had fallen for him.
frank’s voice announcing that this next one would be the last song broke you out of your train of thought to which a chorus of ‘aww’s’ and ‘no’s’ trailed loudly from the front of the stage.
“we’re glad you all came out here tonight and we hope you can make it to the next one.” frank uttered into the mic, eyes scanning the cheering audience.
despite the inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but admire the way he acknowledged the crowd, like he was personally thanking everyone who decided to grace their presence at his show tonight.
as he scanned the crowd, he locked eyes with you, finding you for what you believed to be the first time that night.
“this song is dedicated to my favorite girl in the world.” he breathed out into the mic and began to play as flutters rushed through your chest and down your spine.
his deep amber eyes bore into yours as he sent a big smile your way, leaving the front row of girls confused as a giggle escapes your lips.
preview: gerard's always had a secret desire to see you, his girlfriend, perform on a stage. when faced with the opportunity to go on tour with him, you don't disappoint. it actually ends up being better than anything he imagined.
author's note: the title is from pinkish by gerard way and this fic features lyrics from pinkish as well! i heavily drew inspiration from joe jonas and jinjoo lee's onstage interactions! if you haven't seen clips of them onstage... please go watch.
word count: 1009
dedications: @microwavedgoober + @ladyofmonroeville + @cub1clez — your comments expedited my motivation to post, so thank you! enjoy. :)
It was a no-brainer when Gerard approached you earlier in the year to ask you to be the touring guitarist for his solo tour. Who wouldn't want their incredibly talented significant other to travel the country and play alongside them and be on the road for a few months?
"I'd love to see how you'd play onstage one day." He would always tell you. You had always thought it was because Gerard was just enamored as he always spent hours watching you play, something he was never great at and you were exceptional.
It was that and the fact that Gerard didn't want you to know that he always got turned on when he watched you play and would often fantasize about you being in your own band. The second the opportunity presented itself to tour his solo album, he knew he would pick you. It was only right, especially when you had helped him out with the guitar parts on the album to begin with.
After months of rehearsals and tour logistics finalizations, you two had embarked on the tour, your first time playing guitar professionally for shows.
It's no secret to you that Gerard usually got riled up onstage—in fact, you found yourself using that to your advantage in your onstage interactions.
You loved teasing him. It started with lingering touches in between riffs to shooting him winks and biting your lip whenever he looked your way. Eventually, the fans started to catch on to the not-so-subtle onstage flirting between you and Gerard and even encouraged it by exploding into louder fits of cheers whenever you both interacted.
You would be lying if you said you didn't love how loud the crowd got whenever you very obviously swooned over your boyfriend. Every positive reaction from the fans spurred you to push your teasing a little further, just to see how far you could torture Gerard, which is why you kept a closer eye on him than usual for the entire set.
When he had gotten onto his knees to sing the bridge of Pinkish into oblivion, and after you had switched from your electric guitar to your acoustic, you sauntered over to him without missing a chord, maintaining your composure as your scheme began to fall into place.
His initial reaction to you being in front of him for the song was a bit of shock but mostly held anticipation—an eagerness to see what you had in store for him.
This dream is calling your name
This dream is calling your name
The cheers from the crowd grew while you two perfectly faced each other onstage, an intimate view of Gerard on his knees in front of you as he sang.
And if we hold on
We hold on to sleep
His eyes were fixed on you as he sang, darting from your lips to your chest to your fingers as they danced along the fretboard. You mouthed the lyrics along with Gerard, locking eyes with him, leaning in slowly and inching closer.
And holding on, our dreams might be okay
And holding on, our dreams come true some day
Some day
You were mere inches from his face, close enough to feel his breath on you. He sang the last few words of the bridge, lingering on the last note as you ceased playing, holding the neck of your guitar with your left hand. You slipped your guitar pick between your teeth and shifted your right hand to cup just beneath Gerard's chin, forcing him to look at you.
Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss you right here and right now.
Gerard stared up at you, cheeks flushed and eyes dripping with unspoken desire. You smirked as you swiped the pick from between your teeth and hovered it in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, he parted his lips slowly and gripped the pick with his teeth.
The fans erupted into squeals at the display you and Gerard put on. You see the yearning swimming around his gorgeous eyes and you quickly tilt your head to kiss his cheek before rushing to switch back to your electric guitar to finish the song.
Of course he was stunlocked from what you had done.
Gerard blinked a few times to recover and he reached to remove the pick from his lips. The whistles from the audience break him out of his less than appropriate thoughts and he quickly rose back to his feet, obviously flustered from your actions, as he remembers he has an audience.
He internally considers throwing your pick into the audience and stops himself. He tucks it into the pocket of his pants, happy that he gets to keep a souvenir from this moment.
When you turn back to face him, you have a smug smile on your lips, one that sends a rush of pink to Gerard's cheeks and a wave of arousal down his body. You give the signal that you're about to initiate the riff that starts the final chorus.
With a renewed sense of vigor from the stunt you pulled, you bob your head as you shred out the opening solo, thrashing about and pouring your all into your playing as the crowd goes crazy.
Gerard can't help but smile as he screams out the last chorus while he steals glances at you playing monstrously. He's happy to have such an electric and talented presence onstage with him to support him, but also damn lucky that he gets to show off his downright attractive girlfriend.
So I couldn't stay
Washed away, rescue me mother
Fragile and holding my hand
Accidents, grades
Marks that we left on each other
Pinkish in color again
During your final riff, Gerard watches you in absolute awe, relishing in the fact that how you behave and act onstage is a million times hotter than anything he could have ever imagined. He also knows that when you two get to your hotel room tonight that he'll make you pay for the little stunt you pulled.
Relationship/Characters: Gerard Way x f!Reader, mentions of Ray Toro, Frank Iero, and unnamed f!best friend
Tags: fluff, meet-cute, non-sober!gerard, no use of y/n, tipsy!reader
Preview: After being dragged out to the bars by your best friend, you make eye contact with a pair of grey eyes that has your inebriated heart fluttering. Maybe disrupting your usual homebody evening routine would prove to be worth it.
Author's Note: this is my first ever mcr/gw one shot! i haven't written anything in a long time, but i want to keep doing so, so i hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2k
This was not how you intended for your first bar hopping experience to go.
You never even really drank to begin with, preferring a quiet evening spent watching reruns of your favorite anime, reading romance novels, and running yourself a nice, hot, and relaxing bath.
“But it’s my birthday!” Your friend had exclaimed over the phone. “I want to take you bar hopping!”
You figured it was the least you could do as she was one of your oldest friends and very different from you. She loved going out, loved meeting people, something you struggled to do. She had seen you at your absolute worst phases of life whether it was you being dorky in middle school or your failed romances in high school, even in college when you had smoothed out all your edges and finally functioned like a normal human being, she had witnessed each stage of growth and supported you through them all. Of course you could repay her by going out with her for her special evening and finally indulging in a few drinks with her.
And that’s how you ended up navigating yourself through the small town, going bar to bar, ordering drinks with fun names and unreasonable price tags. For the earlier part of the night, everything was tame. By the time you had made it out of bar three, yourself and your friend were incredibly tipsy. You hadn’t felt this drunk in a long while, but you decided to welcome the unfamiliar feeling.
“I’m going to stop inside this corner mart to get a pack of ciggies! Want anything?” She announced with a grin. You notice the sway in her steps and hold back a smirk. She was totally gone, and honestly, so were you. Your body was warm from the inebriation, buzzing.
“I’m okay,” you call out, waving your hand to signal a ‘no’. “I’ll stay out here and get some air.”
She sticks her tongue out at you before heading inside and just as she enters, a group of three guys walk out.
Your tipsy gaze can’t help but look at each of them, they were incredibly captivating. The first of the group is the shortest of them, shortish and choppy black hair, adorning a cigarette in his lips, yet he looked like he had one too many beers judging by the way he tripped over his own feet as he walked. The second has long and dirty blonde curls, towering over the first guy, laughing at the first. Then trailing behind the two of them were the prettiest pair of eyes you have ever seen. They looked green—no, brown—no, grey. A shiny grey. They were looking back at you.
Oh shit, they were looking back at you.
You shut your lips tightly together, you didn’t even realize you were gaping at him, blinking a few times to confirm if what your intoxicated brain had conjured up was true.
He was still following behind his friends, but his pace had slowed and a small smile gathered at his lips and his eyes. You felt a shiver run down your spine. You could drown in them.
As quick as the moment had come, it had vanished.
“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Your friend called out to you, causing you to break eye contact.
“All good, girl.” You chuckled softly, then shifted your gaze back onto where you saw him.
He was gone. Of course he was gone.
★
You were pretty much running on fumes by the time you reached the fourth bar which you really hoped would be the end of your evening. Despite the bar itself being pretty empty, the bartenders took forever, karaoke was going on at full volume and two guys with no regard for social cues were singing an obscure song that no one else but the two of them were digging, and no one was dancing. You couldn’t complain though. It was either this one, or waiting in line for the more popular bar your friend wanted to go to that you knew you couldn’t stomach this evening.
“An amaretto sour and a dirty Shirley, please.” You had requested once the bartender finally had a free moment.
You swiveled a bit in the barstool you had made yourself comfortable in for the ten minutes you were waiting to order. You caught a glimpse of your friend talking up some guy who seemed to be enjoying the chaos of the two idiots singing their lungs out.
“Your drinks.” The bartender stated, sliding the cocktails toward you.
You reach for your wallet in your purse to pay, to which he simply utters, “For the two pretty girls, your drinks were covered.”
Before you can stop yourself, you brows furrow in confusion. The bartender nods awkwardly. You can only manage a stale chuckle as you thank him, swiftly grab the drinks, and trudge over to your friend.
You never had a drink purchased for you before and most certainly had never been sought out romantically like that before. Apart from a few flings in college, you hadn’t had a successful run in long-term relationships. You had finally enjoyed being in your own company, something that you had struggled with for years and years. Yet even after all this time, you still couldn’t believe that anyone could want you.
“Oh, speaking of!” Your friend’s voice had broken you out of the trance, partially due to being in your own head and partially due to the lingering inebriation, eagerly gesturing toward you. “This is my best friend!”
You put on a smile, turning your attention to the guy she had been chatting to, only for your eyes to widen in surprise. It was the long-haired guy from outside the corner mart.
“Hi, nice to meet you. Ray Toro.” He grinned with an outstretched hand. You regained your composure and returned the sentiment, uttering your name.
“Ray here is a guitar player. We were bonding over how annoying those guys singing karaoke earlier were.” Your friend said, eyeing him every few words. She was definitely digging this one.
“Yeah,” Ray chimes in, also equally staring over at your friend as he spoke. “I’m actually in a band with a few of my friends. They should be around here somewhere.”
Your heartbeat escalated. Was he here? Your eyes peered around the bar to no avail.
“Thank you for the drink! We’re going pop outside to take a smoke break.” Your friend announced, a distinct look in her eyes that screamed ‘I want to take him home’.
You smirked at her, shaking your head teasingly as she shot her drink down. “Have fun.” You mumbled out as she made her way to the exit of the bar, Ray’s hand in hers.
You hold out for one more look around the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of that dark haired man you had seen for a second. You stalk to the nearest standing table, boredly stirring your drink with the pink coffee stirrer.
The two guys were long gone by now and a girl with a bunch of her friends replaced them to sing a current pop hit. You didn’t care for the song, but you loved to see her friends hype her up and sing along with her. And despite the upbeat melody and lyrics of the song, you couldn’t help but feel lonely.
You feel a soft touch on your shoulder, pulling you out of your feelings. Expecting your friend, you look behind and are met with those hues of grey, shiny grey.
“Hi.” He greets, that same small but warm smile from earlier on his lips.
“Hey.” You can't hold back the stupid grin and the rising warmth on your face. This moment doesn’t fucking feel real.
He leans over to your ear, the sound of the music making it hard to hear him at normal volume. “Is it okay if I join you?”
You nod, cheeks flushed. Maybe from the alcohol, mostly due to him. He joins you at the standing table and you two watch the karaoke group dance around.
“I hope you liked your drink.” He starts, eyes not leaving the stage. “I wanted to make sure you stuck around for a bit while I was taking care of my friend.”
“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“Yeah, my friend Frank was pretty wasted. I called my brother to come pick him up and take him home. He always says he can, but he can never last a night out with Ray and I.” He laughs to himself. “But as I was walking Frank out, I saw you waiting at the bar and told the bartender put your drinks on my tab.”
Thank God for being drunk because you can’t imagine how much of a flustered mess you would have been hearing all of this if you were sober. You think a few words of gratitude for Liquid Courage and you feel yourself giggling along with him, thinking back to when you had seen them earlier, the gentleman, who you know now as Frank, was very much close to needing a shameful trash bag necklace.
“Right, I saw you all earlier. Frank was the wasted one, Ray was laughing at him, and you’re the one with the pretty eyes.” You blurt before you could think. Okay, maybe you should now curse the Liquid Courage.
“The one with the pretty eyes, huh.” He says and as you turn to him to save yourself from any embarrassment, you find him already staring at you with a smirk.
You stutter, trying to find something, anything to change the conversation. He chuckles at your antics before he steps closer, shutting you up completely.
“Gerard.” He says, mere inches from your face. Your cheeks flush as you get a good look at his face up close. You start counting the tiny moles littered across his cheeks and chin. Your eyes trace his defined nose up to his brows and find your way back to the grey.
You whisper your name out to him, body burning within proximity of Gerard.
“I thought this as soon as I saw you earlier too, but…” His eyes scan your face, taking his time to take you in before he opens his mouth again. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
The sudden applause from the bar goers startles the both of you and you slightly jolt away from each other. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, but you pay no attention to that because for the first time that evening, Gerard’s cheeks tinge pink.
So fucking cute.
The same duo of men replace the previous group of karaoke singers onstage and you can’t help but groan knowing what’s to come. You grab the drink Gerard bought you, shoot it down your throat, and hope that this was enough to give you the confidence to do what’s next.
This was a prime chance and you needed to take it.
You can’t stop yourself as you wrap your arms around his neck, look deeply into his eyes, and plant your lips against his.
Every feeling of self-doubt, shame, and embarrassment doesn’t hit, Gerard doesn’t let anything stop you. His hands shift to your waist, his palms igniting fires on your skin.
You pull away slowly, eyes fluttering up to see his gazing down at you. He shakes his head with a goofy grin. “You beat me to it. I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
You let out a tipsy giggle, your fingertips finding their way to his hair. He leans in once more, only to be interrupted by the shrill singing of two idiots.
“Let’s get out of here.” He whispers against your lips and you laugh as he outstretched his hand to you which you graciously accept.
He quickly closes his tab at the bar and keeps you close.
★
This was not how you intended for your first bar hopping experience to go.
With your best friend and Ray undoubtedly long gone doing God knows what, you and Gerard walk the quiet streets, loving the feeling of the cold wind between your hands.
You two talked about music, his band, and his love for comics, and your favorite T.V. shows, manga you were currently reading, and your favorite coffee shops (some of which he also frequented and suggested you two go to together).
You enjoyed each other’s company and the budding romance, dead social battery long forgotten and recharged by those shiny grey eyes.
RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP | Frank Iero x f!Reader | Chapter 2
synopsis: frank is your new next door neighbor whom you befriend after discovering that the shared wall between your apartments amplifies the sound of whatever music each of you listen to. you two hang out, get to know each other, merge friend groups, and become great friends. what happens when you decide you want to ruin the friendship only to find that frank has begun to pursue other people?
tags: sfw, friends to lovers, meet-cute, legal drug use, slow burn
wc: 2315
Chapter 2 | Blue Album
Only an hour remained in your shift, and judging by the sheer lack of customers from the last eight hours of the day, you knew it would be smooth sailing from here on out.
You didn't even mind that you had boxes upon boxes of coffee beans and general supplies to unpack and arrange in the small shop from the shipment you had received, especially not when you were able to listen to whatever music you pleased while performing such a laborious task. Not that Weezer’s Blue Album made it that much more bearable. (Kidding, of course.)
Ever since your encounter with your next-door neighbor, your stress level during every shift this week seemed to ease up from the week prior.
The birds chirped joyfully on your commute, your boss treated you to your favorite sandwich each morning as you two worked, and the shop was particularly quiet and relaxed, which allowed you to actually take time to converse with customers, writing small notes on to-go cups and engaging in meaningful conversations with your regulars. It was what made you love your job to begin with.
You loved seeing your regulars, the dad and daughter who would come in weekly to purchase an iced black tea and whatever vibrantly decorated cookie was in the display; the woman who read the daily paper right by the fireplace; a young gentleman who thumbed through a different graphic novel each visit, who loved Akira and recommended it to you on your first meeting, and who, surprisingly, only ordered a simple hot brewed coffee with no added creamer or sugar. It was this mundanity that you missed. You loved routine, and you loved this small, meaningful life you had built by yourself and for yourself, even if some people found it to be restricting and menial.
'excited to see u soon’
You scoffed slightly at the text from Eden before locking your phone and slipping it away into your back pocket. Of course, Eden had been begging you to go out, and even though your spirits were, in fact, higher than usual, you still dreaded the act of going out and having to be near other intoxicated people trying to escape their day-to-day lives. Even so, you loved Eden and your other friends (and, admittedly, you were a desperate people pleaser), and you would never flake without a good reason to.
You allowed yourself to dissociate, letting your body run on autopilot while the shop echoed the upbeat, beachy undertones of Weezer, knowing that in just a few hours, you would probably be wishing you had never stepped foot outside your house today.
Lately, you hadn't heard any music resonating through the walls from your neighbor's apartment. An overbearing part of you almost wanted to check in on your neighbor, but you decided immediately, once thinking about it, that it would probably send the wrong message, the message that you were tracing and tracking his movements, and the last thing you needed was a man thinking you were obsessed with him.
On your short walk home, your mind gravitated toward your neighbor. What was his story? Did he also work a mundane day job like you? Nah, you couldn’t picture it. You honestly couldn’t really picture him as any other entity in your mind other than your neighbor.
When you arrived at your door, you allowed all thoughts of your neighbor to leave your mind. That is, until you heard the familiar riff of “Only in Dreams” from Weezer’s Blue Album, the very one you were playing in the shop earlier.
Maybe he was obsessed with you.
You shook that nonsensical thought out of your head. Obviously, it was just your tastes that were incredibly aligned, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he knew you were just singing out all the words to this album with Rivers through the speakers of the coffee shop as you mopped jovially.
You knew you hadn’t had time to linger on such a menial observation, especially not after Eden had sent a text that she was on her way to you. You had better things to worry about with the night ahead, like how to avoid the inevitable social crash.
“Two rounds of lemon drops for my girls,” Alysa announced, setting the tray of eight shot glasses down at the table you four were lucky to secure in the crowded bar.
“Are you trying to get us fucked up this early into the night?” Eden tsks playfully as she begins distributing the glasses amongst you.
“I would want to get shitfaced as soon as possible too if I went on as uneventful a blind date as you did, Alysa,” Gianna giggled teasingly.
Alysa playfully flips Gianna off as Gianna reaches for her glass. “We finally all have a break from work and school, and that’s the attitude you have. Also, that’s surprising coming from you, Eden. You’re the one that’s usually rallying us to party.”
Eden smirks, catching her tongue between her teeth as she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance at your other two friends before taking a shot glass in each hand, signaling for you to do the same. “Maybe my frontal lobe is finally developing in my mid-20s.”
You watch as the other girls playfully scoff to themselves at Eden’s remark. “Besides,” Eden starts, easing two glasses in your direction, “I think there’s someone else we should be bothering to get sloshed tonight.”
You scoff lightly before taking the lemon drops. “Do we forget that I’m severely emetophobic and that I will never get to the point of being sloshed?”
The three girls burst into a fit of laughter. “Obviously not,” Eden says with a chuckle. “We just want you to have a good time and not regret leaving your apartment to see us.”
She smiles genuinely at you, her eyes grateful as she hovers her arm over the center of the table.
“For this round, I’m toasting to you,” Alysa announces, standing so abruptly it spooks you when you two lock eyes.
Gianna nods her head solemnly as she says your name before raising her glass. “Thanks for always making the exception to leave your home to spend time with us.”
“A toast to my very best friend since elementary,” Eden says coolly to compensate for the slight waterworks forming in her eyes at the intimate statement.
“You guys are too good at flattery,” you tease with a smile. “I won’t toast to myself, but I will make a promise to push myself out of my comfort zone more often so as not to miss out on moments like this.”
You and the other girls chorus a “cheers” as you clink glasses and shoot back one shot after the other.
“All sappy speeches aside… didn’t we come out to relax after the weeks we’ve had? Plus, I know you love witnessing the chaos of bar fights and mosh pits,” Eden says to you after restacking her shot glasses onto the serving tray.
You can’t help but smile, the strong taste of the alcohol already relaxing all the tense muscles in your body. “You know me too well, E. Anything that I can observe from afar that doesn’t concern me makes for great entertainment.”
“Seems like you’ll be getting your wish then, you masochist,” Gianna teases. “I heard from a coworker that the band tonight is supposed to be up and coming in the hardcore-ish punk scene. Supposedly, they don’t even look like they’d be in a hardcore band.”
Gianna’s eyes light up when she diverts her attention to the stage, raising a finger to point at the very spot you four had drunkenly watched other local bands perform countless times. “Look, that’s them setting up! They’re called My Chemical Romance?”
You focus your attention on the small, barely elevated stage in the bar where, because of the sheer volume of people, you can only make out slight details of the guys onstage. Through the crowd, you see the drummer fumbling with his equipment, a glasses-wearing bassist holding the neck at a slightly higher position than you’re used to seeing, a curly-haired guitarist hooking up his guitar to the amps, and two rather familiar guys you can’t quite place from your angle.
You shift your head, attempting to catch a glimpse of the guitarist’s face, yet give up when the only thing you catch is his guitar, adorned with holographic stickers that spell out the word “pansy,” which makes you scoff. You find you have better luck trying to see the singer, and your jaw nearly drops when you recognize him.
Gerard. One of the regulars at the coffee shop, the very guy who isn’t too keen on hipster flavored lattes and prefers a simple hot brew of whatever roast you recommend. Simple-order Gerard, who is apparently the lead singer of a hardcore-adjacent band.
You are shocked, to say the very least, but Eden’s coworker was right. None of these guys really strike you as the stereotypical rock band member, which is why it surprises you even more when the first riffs of their opening song fill your ears. It’s captivating. Eden feels the same. Even Alysa, who isn’t particularly into rock bands, is bobbing her head along to the rhythm.
If you thought you were impressed by your regular, who you realize you had not gotten to know enough, you are floored when he finally starts to sing. He is fun to watch, jarring. He commands the room well.
You furrow your brows a bit at the backing screams, trying to pinpoint the source of those shrill sounds. You look to the guitarist and the bassist from earlier, and even the drummer. You crane your neck around the people blocking your view, and you freeze in place after finding a clear line of sight.
Your neighbor. Frank. Screaming into the mic like he’s unleashing the anger of his entire bloodline, thrashing about onstage like he has all the space in the world, and mouthing the words to the audience like they’re a legendary act and not at a first-time gig.
You have a hard time connecting the dots between this Frank and your Frank, yet despite it, it makes sense.
He exudes an energy that sets him apart from anyone else you’ve ever known. He doesn’t just play the part of a rock star, he is one. With each song that passes, he plays as though it’s the most emotional, heavy, and complex masterpiece. He makes the crowd believe with him. Everyone knows that whatever it is, he’s got it.
You don’t realize they’ve finished the last song of their set until you’re broken out of your trance by your friends' voices and Alysa returning with a tray of cocktails.
“Damn, I’ll have to tell my coworker that they were right. We should catch them at their next performance,” Gia admits, pulling her phone out to send the text.
“Honestly,” Eden begins, sipping on her water, “I’m thoroughly impressed. It’s not every bar night that we get to hear actually coherent bands.”
“And they’re lookers too. A certain someone over here kept making goo-goo eyes at the guitarist.” Alysa winks at you, sliding a cocktail your way.
“No,” you shake your head a bit too hard. “I just recognize him. And the singer.”
Gianna and even Eden raise a brow at this as Alysa’s smirk sinks into an “o.”
“You know them?” Gianna exclaims. “How could you possibly know them?”
You let out a small giggle at their faces. “The singer, that’s Gerard. He gets coffee at work every morning. I never knew he had a talent for singing.”
“And Frank—”
“Hey, neighbor.” A voice calls from behind you.
When you turn your head, you’re met with hazel irises hidden behind a sweaty black fringe.
“Hi, neighbor.” You say in a voice that’s too cheery and definitely too comfortable as a result of the number of drinks you’ve had tonight.
“Neighbor?” Alysa squeals from the table.
“Yes, sorry. This is my next-door neighbor, Frank,” you introduce. “Frank, these are my friends Alysa, Eden, and Gianna.”
“It’s nice to meet you guys.” Frank smiles, giving a small wave. “Did you guys like the set?”
“A friend told me to keep an eye out for you guys tonight. Her recommendation did not disappoint,” Gianna gushes.
“Fuck yeah, man. Glad to hear it.” Frank reaches a fist out to Gianna, which she gladly returns, as Eden and Alysa both give their own short praises.
“And what did you think, Ms. Homebody?” he says in a sultry tone, one that is surely the result of his exhaustion and not to be taken in any other context.
“Definitely glad I broke my nighttime routine to see that,” you admit with a blush.
The corners of Frank’s eyes crinkle as he lets out a high-pitched laugh, one that’s infectious, that people can’t help but join in with. “Well, I’m counting on you being at every other show then.”
“I would love to,” you stutter out. “I’m sure the girls would love to also.”
“This is kind of my first time playing together with the group, and I was planning on hosting everyone for a smaller kickback at my place tonight. Did you ladies maybe want to join?” Frank asks casually, something that, if you had asked, you would be stumbling over your words and convincing yourself that maybe you could just spend another night alone, yet Frank does it effortlessly.
“Well—”
Before you can get anything out, Eden, who has been incredibly silent this entire night, answers on your behalf.
“We are so down.”
You give her a look and feel a sinking feeling in your chest when you see the scheming smile on her face. This night is looking to be a lot longer than you were preparing yourself for.
