downpour
2008 gerard way x reader.
.ᐟ summary: you and gerard get caught in the rain walking back from an awards show.
.ᐟ tags: yearning, hurt/comfort, confessions, friends to lovers, fluff and smut, shower sex, gerard is a little clueless at first, fem reader.
.ᐟ a/n: wanted to write something sappy and sweet for 2008 gerard. wc: 4,188.
“Hold still.”
Gerard is restless, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his suit coat as your hands struggle to adjust his tie. Outside of the hotel, dark clouds gather across the city sky, heavy with the promise of unpredictable spring weather.
“Can’t help it,” he mumbles. “Nerves must be gettin’ to me.”
“Nerves?” You reply haphazardly, eyes locked on his collar, working the knot of the tie between your fingers, intent on getting it right. “What for?”
“It’s just… different,” he pauses, swallowing thickly. “Feels strange without the guys.”
You tug the tie a little tighter, smoothing the fabric of his waistcoat down to match.
“Well,” you say lightly, “They’re not that far away. And I remember you handling much worse.”
He huffs out a thin laugh, hands hovering against the mattress like he doesn’t know where to put them.
“You say that like it’s easy.”
You pause, finally looking up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in what feels like an hour. The worry on his face is obvious now, drawn tight in the crease between his eyebrows and the way his jaw flexes every few seconds. Without thinking, you reach your hand up, tucking a stray strand of hair from his face. He leans into your palm slightly, the action subtle but fragile, just enough you can see the tension in his muscles release.
You let your thumb drift along his jaw, tracing the line carefully as if mapping the worry away. Gerard lets out a soft sigh, leaning a fraction closer, trusting the comfort without words.
“You’re thinking too much,” you murmur before pulling your hand back, stepping back to admire your handiwork. His tie sits perfectly, collar straight, the knot just so. “You’ll be perfect. And… I— your editors will be right there with you the entire night.”
Gerard blinks, processing the reassurance, shoulders easing a fraction under the tightness of the suit. There’s still that nervous edge, the restless energy coiled tight, but your words seem to anchor him just enough to the moment.
“I… yeah,” he murmurs, voice low, hesitant, before that signature grin of his slowly spreads across his face. “What would I do without you?”
Your chest tightens at the trust in his tone and the way his eyes flick to yours, completely unaware of the gravity he holds over your heart. After all, Gerard is one of your oldest friends, someone who’s been with you through years of ups and downs, the demands of your wildly different careers keeping you apart more often than not. Yet somehow, despite the distance and schedules that rarely align, he’s asked you to be his plus one for the night, and you can’t help the small thrill that courses through you at the thought.
You’ve mastered hiding it over the years, folding it neatly into the quiet corners of yourself, a soft ache that settles through your chest whenever you’re near him.
You shrug off your answer, keeping it causal, but your fingers twitch at the thought, powerless against your own restraint.
“You’d survive,” you laugh, voice soft, letting the tension ease between you just a little. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”
The walk there is brisk, your steps quick against the pavement as the venue draws closer and closer with every block. You fall into step beside him, watching the way his hands come alive as he talks, every detail explained with that same spontaneous energy that’s never dimmed in the years of knowing him. He rambles on about everything: funny tales from tour, lyrics to the bridge of that one song he could never figure out, a plot device he’s not sure is clever or completely ridiculous; anything to keep his mind off of things.
You take the distraction as an opportunity to really study him, letting your eyes trace the familiar curve of his face and the effortless way the custom-tailored suit hugs his frame. The dark fabric clings to his broad shoulders and narrows at the waist, sculpting him in a way that seems almost unfair in the evening streetlights. And yet, underneath this pristine exterior, you can’t help but feel that Gerard’s the same person he’s always been.
He seems to notice your staring, pausing mid-sentence to turn fully towards you.
“What?” he grins, voice light, teasing, yet laced with an edge of genuine curiosity, as if he can sense the thoughts you’re struggling to hide.
You shake your head, forcing a casual smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but your heart betrays you with every wild thrum in your chest.
“Nothing.”
But it’s not nothing.
It’s everything, caught in the weight of his gaze, the heat of the moment between you, and all the words left unspoken. You’re no stranger to the way the world keeps residual tabs on Gerard’s “love life,” every inch of it analyzed and dissected, endlessly spun in tabloids and headlines. You don’t want to put him in a position that invites more scrutiny, more speculation, more stories. And somehow… you’re okay with that.
Because… this unguarded connection, the one where he leans towards you, talking too fast and laughing too easily, is yours alone.
You arrive at the venue, the night stretching out before you, alive with chatter and the faint clink of glasses. You bury yourself in the crowd, weaving seamlessly between groups, laughing at stories you’ve never heard before, offering smiles that feel effortless until it’s time for the ceremony to start.
The show starts promptly after, lights dimming and music swelling around you, both of you squeezed in among a sea of hundreds of others. You’re pressed so close together that your thighs brush every time someone in the row shifts, the contact brief but constant, and you’re quietly thankful he can’t see the flush creeping across your cheeks every time it happens.
And then the comments start.
Little remarks tossed back and forth like harmless observations. About Gerard. His looks. How he carries himself nowadays. At first, they’re quiet, half whispered between the people sitting in front of you, barely audible beneath the swell of music and applause. But once you notice, they’re impossible to ignore.
The person on the left snorts softly, droning on about how fame opens doors for people who “don’t really belong in the industry.” The other person chimes in, laughing under their breath about how his work is “surface level at best.”
The comments don’t stop there, growing sharper as the night goes on. You catch one of them scoffing, muttering something about how he “can’t keep a girlfriend,” before adding with a low laugh that he must have “hired someone for the night just to look the part.”
Your stomach twists.
As subtly as you can, you glance over at Gerard.
And your heart sinks.
He’s heard them.
The change in his posture is subtle but unmistakable, replaced by something sensitive and more fragile. Gerard’s shoulders sit just a little lower, his gaze fixed forward but unfocused, the spark that usually lives in his expression completely dimmed. For a moment, he looks smaller somehow, swallowed by the crowd and the noise.
You reach out without thinking, giving his knee a gentle squeeze beneath the dim wash of the lights. For a moment, your hand lingers there, the contact steady and comforting. Gerard shifts slightly under your touch, his attention flicking down for a brief second before his eyes lift to yours. The look he gives you is heavy with something unspoken, a mix of weariness and gratitude that tightens something in your chest.
He places his hand on top of yours, as if reassuring both you and himself, before pulling back. You manage to make it through the rest of the show, side by side but mostly silent, leaving the venue without many words exchanged in passing, the music and the crowd fading behind you.
Outside, the pavement glistens under the dim streetlights, slick with the earthy smell of rain that hangs in the air. You walk close together, letting the quiet of the night wrap around you, thoughts broken only by the sounds of traffic and the soft splash of tires through puddles.
Gerard is the first to break the silence.
“Are you cold?”
“I’m okay,” you manage, though the chill in the air has begun to creep into your bones. He ignores you, reaching his arm around you to drape his coat over your shoulders. The fabric settles warmly against you, the weight of it comforting in the heat and scent that is Gerard.
“Thanks for inviting me out tonight,” you finally muster, voice trembling slightly with the weight of everything you’re holding back. He looks down at you, the grin you haven’t seen since the beginning of the night resurfacing slowly, warm and just a little shy.
“I’m glad you came,” he says quietly, his tone regulated, matching the careful honesty in yours. You continue to walk, the rhythm of your steps echoing softly along the pavement. “I’m sorry… you had to listen to that,” he mumbles, voice low and edged with guilt. “The entire night.”
You can’t help the small, unguarded laugh that escapes you. “You’re apologizing… to me?” The sound of your laughter seems to lift something in him, and he lets out a quiet breath, a faint smile tugging at his lips once more.
“Yeah,” he admits after a long pause, eyes locking with yours, lingering with a vulnerability he rarely allows himself to show. “I’m used to it,” he shrugs, “But… I hate that it reached you, too.”
You hesitate, the words settling heavy between you. “I’m just happy you’re okay,” you hesitate, letting the streetlights catch the furrow of his brow, before adding, “Besides, none of that stuff they said can be true.”
“Why’s that?” he asks softly, voice low and curious, a faint edge of uncertainty threading through the question. Gerard’s eyes search yours, waiting, almost daring you to say what you’ve been holding back.
You take a deep breath, the night air filling your lungs, letting your fingers find and brush his in the dark. “Because… I know you,” you murmur, “I’ve known you long enough to see who you really are. You’re talented, passionate, kind… one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever met. All the rest… it’s just noise.”
The true weight of your words dawn on Gerard, stopping him clean in his tracks. This isn’t just you reassuring him; this is a confession, stripped raw and laid bare before him. He turns to you, completely dumbfounded, noticing the affection in your eyes, and for the first time, he sees it.
Love.
Pure, unconditional love, woven through years of memories, laughs, and moments he’s never quite understood. It’s in the way you’ve always been present, the little gestures he’d taken for granted, the warmth behind your eyes that he’s never truly noticed until now.
Slowly, he brings his hand up to your face, fingertips grazing your cheek as if you’re made of the most delicate glass. Gerard leans in carefully, eyes searching yours for permission, tipping your chin up to meet his. His lips brush against yours in a featherlight touch: gentle, tender, a question hanging in the space between you. You respond earnestly, arms wrapping around his neck as you deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours with equal fervor, completely surrendering to your touch, pulling your closer as if to erase the distance of the years before.
It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed, effortless in the way he holds you, the warmth of his body against yours, the steady press of his hands along your waist. You feel so at ease, letting your inhibitions melt away with each desperate breath. Gerard pulls back slightly, parting for a brief breath of air before claiming your lips once more.
While desire is present, neither of you are willing to take the lead, savoring the sweetness and the steady build of something deeper. Parting once more, Gerard realizes, as the chill of the night seeps between you, that the street would be the worst place to continue this, especially with the dark clouds circling ominously ahead. He glances up, the tension in his chest tightening. There isn’t a chance it’s going to rain again, is there…?
His thoughts are interrupted by a thunderous crack in the sky, a fine sprinkle of rain dusting the pavement, dotting your hair and shoulders. The world around you sharpens, the downpour growing heavier with every passing second. Gerard pulls you into his side, pressing you close enough you can feel the hardness of his chest.
“Let’s get out of here,” he laughs, tugging you along until you both break into a run, water splashing beneath your feet and clothes. You make it back to the hotel in one piece, drenched, a little breathless, but nevertheless exhilarated. Gerard takes your hand, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator, completely unbothered by the heads turning and murmurs rippling through the space. His attention is entirely on you, on the warmth of your hand in his, the way your laughter from the rain lingers in the air.
The second the elevator doors close, his lips are on yours again, sloppy, desperate, and a little too anxious for his own good. Gerard’s hands find your waist, pulling your body into his, swallowing your soft moans and sighs whole. It almost feels as if you’re kissing like teenagers, clumsy and sweet, caught up in the rush of finally crossing a line you’ve danced around for years.
Gerard continues his assault on your lips all the way down the hallway and to his room, stealing kisses between breathless laughs as you stumble forward together. The door nearly escapes his grasp twice before he manages to get the keycard in, his focus waning the more you tease.
“H-hold on… Hold on…,” he scrambles against your lips, trying and failing to concentrate until the lock finally clicks. The door swings open and you both tumble inside, tangled up in the smell of the rain and each other. For a moment, both of you linger in the doorway, catching your breath while the emotion settles.
Gerard brushes a damp strand of hair from your forehead, eyes warm and a little awed.
“Jesus,” he croaks, voice horse and lips smudged with your lipstick, “You’re freezing.”
You laugh, smearing your thumb over the remnants of the smudge. “And what are you gonna do about that?”
Gerard swallows thickly, chest rising and falling faster than before, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “I think…” he pauses, leaning in to kiss you once more, “I need to warm you up…”
You cut off his kiss with your hand, laughing at the surprised whine that escapes his lips at the rejection.
“Shower.”
He tries again, lips seeking yours with slow insistence, but your fingers guide him back just enough to prevent him from reaching you fully. He takes the opportunity to rest his forehead against yours, breath warm and wet against your palm. “So cruel,” he pouts, trailing behind you to the bathroom.
You turn on the water, steam swirling and thickening, fogging up the mirror. Without a second thought, you begin to undress yourself, reaching at the fabric to pull the dress down your shoulders before turning around. The sight in front of you stops you dead in your tracks.
Gerard’s dress shirt is soaked though, the translucent material clinging against the curves of his chest and arms. He’s filled out a lot over the past tour and it shows, his biceps flexing subtly as he readjusts his stance. For a moment, you take him in fully, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest under the material, a deep flush settling in your cheeks. He notices your gaze, an all-too knowing smile tugging at his lips as he unhooks the last button and removes the shirt.
“You need help with that?” he teases, eyes mischievous. You nod wordlessly, letting his sturdy hands glide over your skin, a shiver running straight up your spine at the contact. Gerard’s fingers trace slow paths across your shoulders and down your back, helping you out of the soggy fabric.
You remove the last of your dress, stepping into the shower and letting the rush of water and steam soften the edges around you. Gerard steps in behind you, arms wrapping around your waist instinctively, coaxing an unconscious squeak out of you at the contact. His hands skate along your sides, turning you around to face him.
And what a sight it is, the droplets sliding off of his chin, following the curves of his chest before vanishing into the steady spray of water below. He’s beautiful, the contours of his body drawing your gaze every which way, each detail more mesmerizing than the last.
You’re so absorbed in him that you don’t notice his hand reaching up, fingers brushing lightly against your jaw and cupping the side of your face delicately. “You’re gonna make me blush, staring like that,” he murmurs, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You reach out to him mindlessly, hands skating over the hardness of his chest before threading behind his neck, fingers tangling in the soaked strands of his hair. “I can’t help it,” you smile against his lips, breath hitching slightly as he leans in, seizing the chance to kiss you once more. His kisses are like fire, frantic, all-consuming, igniting something deep inside of you.
Gerard backs you against the wall, the cool tiles of the shower a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating between you. His hands roam you freely, tracing the gentle curves of your body, committing every detail to memory. Your back arches into him instinctively, leaning into him as his lips suck a thick bruise onto the skin of your neck. He can feel you melt into his mouth, the warmth of his lips making your thoughts go hazy, tilting your head to give him better access.
He obliges, licking and sucking from your chin to your collarbone, letting his hands trail lower, kneading the flesh of your hips. You part your legs for him, letting your forehead rest against his as his fingers inch closer and closer to where you need him most. He works you open with delicate precision, working you open in slow strokes to your slit, fingers circling your clit in quick reverence.
“Fuck,” he groans, eyes lifting to meet yours. “You’re soaked. All this from a little kissing?” He lilts, voice low with hunger and amusement.
“Y-you’re one to talk,” you stutter between breaths, feeling his hardness poking against your thigh. Even only half-hard, Gerard’s statue is impressive, tip flushed and red, leaking spurts of pre cum against his thighs. He’s bigger than average, thick at the base and riddled with veins, the sight alone making your blood boil in lust at the thought of him inside of you, loving you so completely. “I need you, Gerard,” you whimper softly, hands stroking along his shoulders. “More than anything.”
“I’m right here, baby,” he groans, lips parting slightly as his eyes lock on yours, the raw need there making your stomach flutter in anticipation. “You sure about this?”
“I need all of you, Gee,” you whine, the effect on him immediate with how quickly his hand drops to his cock, giving himself a few strokes. “Need you inside of me.”
Gerard’s hands grasp your thighs, hoisting your legs effortlessly off the ground while keeping your back pinned to the wall. The strength in his grip sends a jolt straight up your spine, causing you to wrap your legs around him. Gerard doesn’t waste another second, lining himself up at your entrance, pushing in slowly, your cunt sucking him in with ease from how wet you are.
The noise that escapes you is pitiful, nails digging into his skin at the feeling of being stretched to the brim. Gerard pauses, gauging your face carefully for a reaction, before sliding you further up the wall until your face is level with his. He goes in a little deeper, letting you adjust inch by inch, squeezing your ass in an effort to keep himself controlled. He wants to keep this slow, contained, but the heavenly warmth of your insides makes it damn near impossible to focus, to think straight. Fuck, He could just lose himself so deep inside of you, his control slipping by the wayside with every passing second.
“Look at you, beautiful” he groans, leaning into to nip at the shell of your ear. “Taking me so well.”
“F-fuck,” you whine, arms looped tight around his neck, feeling him bottom out with a final snap of his hips. “Too much, Gerard. It’s too much.”
“Too much?” He grunts, picking up the pace slightly, fucking you deeply and passionately into the tiles. It’s too much, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, loved so completely by the person you’ve been wanting for what feels like an eternity. You tighten your arms around him, letting your hands wander the expanse of his back, loving the way his muscles flex with every snap of his hips. He’s so strong, so powerful in his own right, a quiet kind of strength that answers in the movement of his hips against you’re.
Meanwhile, Gerard is completely blissed out, jaw tightening as a low, frustrated grunt escapes him. How could he have missed this, never really seen you until now? He chastises himself, the thought twisting in his chest as his grip on you tightens just slightly, not out of possession, but of regret.
You scramble for purchase against the wall, clinging to his desperately, eyes rolling the more he seems to take, the tip of his cock catching against your g spot with every trust. His entire body is flushed, the heat of the steam almost burning his skin from standing under the stream for so long, but none of it compares to the way your bodies cling together, pressed so impossibly close.
“Beautiful,” Gerard stutters between desperate moans of his own, pulling back just enough he can watch your adorable, fucked-out expressions. “Just beautiful.” He leans in carefully, lips brushing your cheek as he kisses and licks away the tears falling in a steady stream, angling his hips up to penetrate you deeper.
“It’s all for you, Gerard,” you cry, voice hoarse and wrecked with every fuck of his hips. “Been dreaming about this,” you admit shamelessly, letting the words spill out between wild, uneven gasps. His gaze sharpens, pupils blown wide at your admission, a desperate moan escaping his lips as if he can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Fuck, baby,” he whines, voice rough and thick with emotion. “All this time…” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours in disbelief. “I’ll never make you wait again,” he chokes, the words low and certain, pressing desperate kisses to your puffy lips. “Let’s get there together, yeah?”
“Oh fuck,” you moan, hands grabbing and scratching anywhere you can reach. “More, more, please!”
You’re inconsolable, the knot tangling inside of you dangerously close to snapping. His grip behind your knees tightens, pushing your legs back a little further. “Cum for me, baby,” he manages between gasps. “Show me how good it feels.”
Your fingers find his hair, frantically yanking him closer until his lips meet yours in a final, searing kiss. It’s never been so hot, never felt so good, clamping down on his length so tight it’s hard for him to move. Several more powerful thrusts and Gerard’s spilling deep inside of you, snapping your hips down to meet his. He quickly catches you as your legs give out, clutching you against the wall as the last of his cum streams inside of you, hot and sticky as it pools.
The words stumble out before you can catch them, barely louder than a whisper but nevertheless echoing around you both.
“I love you.”
Gerard’s hands freeze at your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you as close as possible. “I love you too,” he rasps, voice rough and breathless, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. He eases out of you slowly, holding you upright and moving you directly under the water. The water’s gone lukewarm by now, the heat between your bodies lingering as he begins to wash you and himself with the utmost care.
It’s perfect, both of you falling into a comfortable silence, Gerard mumbling apologies when he brushes too close between your legs. He shuts the water off, wrapping you both in fluffy towels and scooping you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom.
He settles beside you on the bed, wrapping the towels more securely around you, pulling you close until your chest rests against his. You nuzzle against him, breathing in the faint scent of soap and him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips.
You press a little closer, letting the towels slip slightly, just enough to feel the heat of his body wrapped around yours. Gerard’s arms tighten, holding you as if you’re made of the most delicate glass, the weight of longing and desire melting into nothing but the soft rhythm of the rain against the window.
