hiii i got here from ao3 :3
i dont know if you take requests or anything, but if you do I'd LOVE some noncon/rape with either Frank or Gerard (or both :3)
like yes come on now, rape me as you wish- khm who said that
love you mwuah
XOXO
-🎀
Omg hi I completely forgot I had ao3 and yes, absolutely! I really miss having requests </3. My writing style has probably changed completely since my last fic (it's almost been a year...) so my apologies. Let's hope this doesn't get me nuked.... Anyways, I'll stop rambling. hope you enjoy!
Drunk On Hope
Pairing: Frank Iero/reader/Gerard Way
Warnings: Noncon, intox/substance abuse mentions
Notes: reader is gender neutral, imagined to be bullets era, not fully beta read because I'm lazy, Also the title is from a duster song <3
Cross posted on ao3 (registered users only)
word count: 1292
DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.
Loud, rowdy teens crashed together against the barricade as equally brutal music slammed into the humid, suffocating air. Scoring a spot so close to the stage would be something you'd never shut up about for a while, definitely. The band seemed so close; it felt like they were playing just for you. You could have sworn you made eye contact with a few of the members more than once.
The show was shorter than you would have liked it to be. Before you knew it, you had already wondered into the heap of people walking off to their rides, ears ringing, and adrenaline running rapid.
You found yourself officially lost. Looking around only presented you with unfamiliar faces and endless parking lots. Nervous eyes darted around the area. You knew damn well you shouldn't have gone this late at night to a show in this part of town.
As you witnessed the remnants of the fans find their cars or leave the venue, panic began to settle into your bones. The extra scraps of the adrenaline high slowly seeped out onto your sweat listened body and the reality set in that you had no way home nor any idea where you were.
You took one last glance at the empty lot, preying there would be somebody who could help you.
That's when some movement caught your eye. Four edgy looking boys stood on the opposite side of the lot, seemingly conversating amongst each other. Pure desperation possessed your body as you managed to drag the thing towards the group.
You watched from a distance as the two taller figures of the group split away, leaving what you remember to be the singer and guitarist. Their eyes glistened in the shitty street light, and as your eyes met theirs, you recognized their expression. They had been eyeing you at the concert.
They shared a cigarette between one another. Gray-ish white smoke swirled around them, forming makeshift halos above their heads. They quickly warped away as you stood before them.
"Hey there, sweet thing." The guitarist took a few steps toward you, passing his cigarette to the ravenette beside him. His hair was bleached a slight orange-y blonde, and swooped up into a sweaty mohawk. He spoke again, "Lost?" His words slid into your pores and darted straight to your brain. His eyes narrowed. Observing, waiting, plotting.
Your words swelled in your throat and refused to spill beyond your tongue as you stared at them. You were confused, half wanting to mirror his flirty remarks, but also wanting to get home without any trouble.
The other seemed to pick up on your discomfort (surpising, you thought, considering they both seemed to have been on some kind of substances) and piped up his own slir of erotic remarks.
"C'mon, sugar. You can't expect to get away from us looking like that.." He commented, eyeing your figure. You didn't think there was anything out of the ordinary about your appearance, but something was getting under their skin, and it was showing.
The words finally crawled from your throat, and the sheer thought of speaking up made your body flush cold in the hot night. "Listen, I just need a ride home." You held your breath as you realized how harsh your voice sounded. You didn't want to provoke them. Who knows what they'd do?
"Someone's feisty." The smaller one commented under his breath. Despite his words, he seemed quite entertained by that fact. Now that you noticed it, they both looked like they'd enjoy a fight.
"No no, that's not true. These are just regular people," you thought, "albeit a little strange and unusual."
"C'mon, gee, you know I can't wait that long.." Your panic-stricken mind screamed as Frank grabbed your arm, but your body stiffened in fear. Gerard pushed himself against you, locking you in between the two stronger men. He tossed his cigarette carelessly onto the concrete. He had a new toy to play with now.
The venue lights slowly dwindled goodnight, and your cries aimed to be heard by someone who wasn't getting off on them. You couldn't really see who's hand clasped over your mouth to shut you up, but you knew then that there was no use.
The warm summer air hit the skin your clothes once covered, your legs now exposed to the two. Your thighs attempted to tremble away from cigarette stained hands, but they were pried open despite their weak protests.
Frank wasted no time ripping apart the last piece of fabric withholding the little piece of heaven he knew you contained. His slightly drunken hands fumbled with his belt buckle, and your frantic legs made weak kicks and cries to escape.
Frank was so hard it hurt. Seeing you all scared and crying, it did something to him. He really didn't feel that bad either, not when he's so high he can barely grab his dick and has to rut onto you like a dog just to get himself in.
Gerard let out a small laugh at the sight. Frank having to hold your mouth shut to keep you quiet while he himself looked almost equally as pathetic.. Gerard was so fucking into this. He was having more fun than he usually did when he got this drunk, and he wished with all his heart he'd remember this moment in the morning.
Having no lube or prep was agonizing, but you had given up on fighing back. Any extra moment made it hurt more than you could handle, so you ultimately laid limp against Gerard as Frank began his dizzy thrusts.
Tears blurred the vision of the man in front of you, and you couldn't tell if it was for better or worse. In an attempt to separate from the situation, you took a look around. It was surprisingly empty around, not a single person in sight. No one to witness what was happening to you, no one to hear your hopeless cries. No one, nothing.
The two didn't seem to come to the same realization, too caught up in their own highs. Frank had picked up the pace, clawing at your hips as he did so. Gerard was chasing his own climax just by watching the scene in front of him. He was much more gentle than Frank, softly grinding against your ass. Somehow, it was almost more disturbing than what Frank was doing. His hot breaths and pants against your neck was something that would be stained into your skin for years to come.
The unwelcomed thrusts faltered for a moment before you were filled with a warmth that was sickening. Frank let out a groan and tightened his bruising grip on you. Gerard seemed to be on a similar page, and seeing Frank climax sent him over his own edge. There was a moment of silence between the three that made you reflect on the night.
If you had just fought back a little harder, if you had cried a little louder, if you had known where you were, if you had never gone to the concert in the first place, maybe this wouldn't have happened. But you knew that was wrong. Nothing would have stopped them from getting what they wanted. Nothing. And even if you had never shown up in the first place, the same story would be carved into another person's life.
You simmered in that fact as they had the decency to put your pants back on, at least. An overwhelming amount of drowsiness captured your body. For a moment, you could feel the cracked concrete against your skin, how rough it felt. Maybe you'd awake in a world where this had never happened, if you just closed your eyes...