hey!! could i get a tbp-era mikey fic set at paramour mansion? he’s been quietly pushing for disenchanted to stay on the album, whispering it into everyone’s ears nd shit. when gerard asks if everyone’s cool with it, reader points out something that feels off and suddenly everyone agrees which hurts mikey more than he lets on. later that night, reader notices he’s distant her (they usually cuddle, mikey’s the type of guy to lay in the middle of her legs w his head on her stomach pls o need that……), eventually he gives in and cuddles with her, and they have a soft, emotional talk about how much they love each other, giggling over old memories. when things quiet down, he softly hums disenchanted as she drifts off. vulnerability, and late-night softness. eventually they both stand their ground about the song together and convince everyone with a stupid presentation.
you’re just a sad song
tbp!mikeyway x reader
a/n: aaaaa this was so fun to writee (pls keep requesting more, yalls ideas are so cute!!) srry for being innactive these past few weeks, trying to get better :pp btwww, thanks for including the cutests gif, i love mikeys-karen-haircut-era!! soo.. coming from a touch starved girlie, pls tell me this one was alright :)
paramour mansion was alive in the way only a house full of exhausted musicians could make it.. half-finished melodies echoing down hallways, empty coffee mugs migrating from room to room, frank’s laugh echoing off the ceiling every time he said something absolutely unhinged.
ray was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his guitar, picking at something that sounded almost accidental but somehow worked. frank was upside-down on the couch, boots hanging over the armrest, tossing popcorn at gerard every time he missed a lyric.
“uhm,” gerard said, covering himself with a blanket. “if my notebook somehow gets butter in it, i will cry.”
“hey that’s emotional manipulation!,” frank replied immediately. “and you know i’m immune.”
mikey was quieter than the rest, as usual, sitting ont the floor leaning against the couch where she sat, shoulder pressed lightly into her knee. he had his bass across his lap but wasn’t playing, just listening.. eyes distant, fingers absentmindedly tracing the strings. every so often, he’d lean forward and murmur something to ray about a transition, or to gerard about pacing.
“okay,” gerard said eventually, clapping his hands once. “just cause i hate you guys, tracklist check. again..”
groans all around.
they went through it one by one, commentary overlapping.. frank complaining about how something was “way too clean,” ray defending chord progressions like his life depended on it, gerard spiraling slightly over thematic cohesion.
“and then,” gerard said, tapping his pen, “disenchanted.”
mikey straightened just a bit.
“i still think it fits,” he said, gently but firmly. “it’s quite a great song.”
frank tilted his head. “don’t get me wrong, i like it. it’s just-”
“-sad as hell, you know?,” frank finished, nodding to himself.
“but that’s not a bad thing,” mikey said. he smiled, small and hopeful. “it’s the kind of song that sticks with you.”
she shifted, hesitating. she loved the song, she really did, but something about its placement tugged at her wrong.
“i don’t know,” she said softly. “it just feels like it stops the album instead of pushing it forward.”
the room went quiet in that thoughtful way. no tension. just processing.
ray nodded slowly. gerard chewed on his pen.
“…yeah,” gerard said. “that’s kind of what i’m feeling too.”
mikey didn’t argue. he just nodded, eyes dropping back to his bass.
“okay,” he said.
she felt it immediately... the way his energy dimmed. he still joked when frank said something dumb, still smiled when gerard cracked himself up, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
...
later, after everyone drifted off, the mansion settling into its nighttime hum, she waited for him.
usually, mikey would crawl into bed like gravity pulled him there automatically.. sliding between her legs, settling his head on her stomach, arms tucked close.
but tonight? tonight he sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders rounded, staring at the floor.
she watched him for a moment before speaking.
“you ok? you’re miles away,” she said gently.
he shrugged. “just tired.”
she scooted closer, legs brushing his back. still nothing.
eventually, quietly, he turned and crawled back, settling into his usual place. the second his head rested on her stomach, she felt him exhale.. long and shaky, like he’d been holding it in all night.
her fingers slid into his hair, slow and soothing.
“there,” she whispered. “missed you.”
he laughed softly. “i was like… three feet away.”
“still counts.”
that finally gets a laugh out of him. not loud, just a small breathy sound against her stomach. he shifts, scooting closer until his weight is fully settled between her legs, knees tucked in, like he’s trying to disappear into her. his hands hover for a second before lightly gripping the fabric of her shirt, knuckles brushing her skin.
they stay like that for a moment. quiet. the mansion creaks softly around them, wood settling, pipes clicking in the walls.
“i hate when i do that,” mikey says suddenly.
she runs her fingers through his hair, slow and gentle. “do what?”
“go quiet,” he murmurs. “like… i don’t mean to shut you out. i just don’t know how to say stuff without sounding stupid.”
she hums softly. “you’ve never sounded stupid to me.”
he shifts his head slightly so he can look up at her, eyes tired. “i just- when everyone agreed with you earlier, it felt like… i don’t know. like i was the only one hearing something that wasn’t there.”
“mikey…”
“i know it’s not personal,” he rushes, words tumbling now that he’s started. “and i know it’s just a song. but sometimes it feels like the only way i know how to say things is through..i don’t know.. music? and when that gets questioned, it’s like-” he exhales shakily. “-like i’m getting it wrong.”
she cups his cheek, thumb brushing gently under his eye. “you’re not getting anything wrong.”
he leans into her touch immediately, eyes fluttering shut. “i just wanted it to matter,” he admits. “and i wanted you to like… believe in it... with me.”
“i do,” she says without hesitation. “i believe in you. even when i disagree about placement or pacing or whatever nerdy album stuff.”
that makes him smile.
“you can disagree with me, you know?” he says quietly. “i don’t want you to just agree because it’s me.”
“i know,” she says. “but i also never want you to feel alone in it.”
he presses his forehead into her stomach, voice muffled. “you make everything feel less scary.”
she laughs softly. “that’s funny, cause you do the same for me.”
his fingers tighten in her shirt, just a little. “i know that i don’t say it enough, and i’m sorry” he says. “but i really, really love you.”
she keeps playing with his hair. “i love you too. you’re allowed to care. you’re allowed to want things.”
they fall quiet again, mikey’s thumb starts tracing absent little shapes on her side, grounding himself. after a while, he hums without realizing it, low and soft.
disenchanted.
the melody is barely there, more breath than sound, but it wraps around them anyway. she feels herself drifting, safe and steady, mikey’s weight anchoring her.
“hey,” he whispers when her breathing slows.
“mhm?” she murmurs, half-asleep.
“thanks for listening,” he says. “for real.”
she smiles, fingers still in his hair. “always.”
...
mikeys humming had faded into something softer, almost not-there. she was half-asleep when she hears it again, not quite a melody this time, more like words breathed into the space between them.
“disenchanted...” he whispers, barely audible.
she stirs, brow creasing. “mikey…?”
he freezes immediately, like a kid caught doing something he maybe shouldn’t.
“…did i wake you up?” he asks, voice hushed.
she smiles sleepily, eyes still closed. “not really. you were… whispering.”
“i was?” he asks, a little too innocently.
she opens her eyes, amused. “yeah. what are you doing?”
he hesitates, then lets out a tiny, embarrassed laugh, forehead pressing into her stomach again. “okay, this is gonna sound really dumb.”
“i love dumb,” she murmurs. “you know that.”
he exhales. “i’ve just.. you know how much i like the song so.. i just whisper it’s name...”
“what?”
he lifts his head just enough to look at her, eyes soft, a little shy. “i just whisper the name of the song.”
she blinks, “you whisper it?”
“yeah,” he says, nodding like this is completely reasonable. “i figured if i said it out loud too much, it’d feel pushy. but if i just… let it exist? gently?”
her smile widens. “mikey…”
“i did it earlier,” he admits. “when everyone was asleep. i walked past frank’s room and just-” he leans closer and whispers, barely a breath, “disenchanted…”
she covers her mouth to stop herself from laughing too loud. “you did not.”
“i did,” he insists, eyes lighting up now. “i did ray too. and gerard. i didn’t wake them up, i swear. i just stood there for like five seconds and whispered it and then left.”
“that is the most you thing i’ve ever heard,” she says fondly.
he grins, sheepish. “i just wanted them to feel it without overthinking it. like… letting it sink in.”
she reaches down, brushing her thumb along his cheek. “you really love that song.”
he leans into her touch instantly. “i do. i love what it says.. and i love that it scares me a little.”
she pulls him closer, arms tightening around him. he exhales, long and relieved, settling back into her. “thank you,” he whispers. “for standing with me..”
“always,” she says, without hesitation.
...
the next afternoon, everyone is gathered in the living room again, the big table cleared except for coffee cups and half-eaten snacks. gerard is already bracing himself.
“okay,” he says slowly. “you two said you had… something?”
mikey shifts on his feet, shoulders slightly hunched, fiddling in his hands. he glances at her, just a quick look, but it steadies him immediately. she gives him a small nod and steps closer, close enough that their arms brush.
ray squints at the tv, leaning forward. “why is the font comic sans..?”
mikey winces. “frank helped with that.”
“it was on purpose,” frank says proudly.
she clears her throat, trying not to laugh. “okay. just.. hear us out.”
mikey takes a breath. “so.. disenchanted.”
he clicks to the next slide. it’s a screenshot of handwritten lyrics, slightly blurry.
“i know it feels… quiet,” mikey says, voice gentle but firmer than yesterday. “and i know it doesn’t hit the same way some of the other songs do right away. but that’s kind of why it matters.”
gerard’s expression softens a little. ray tilts his head, listening.
mikey steps forward, “i don’t always know how to explain what i’m feeling. but that song does. and if it doesn’t have a place here, then… i don’t know where it does.”
there’s a pause.
frank breaks it, quietly this time. “did you whisper it to us while we were asleep.”
mikey freezes. “…maybe.”
ray blinks. “i thought i was dreaming!”
gerard exhales, rubbing his face, but he’s smiling now. “you’re unbelievable.”
she squeezes mikey’s hand. “but he’s right,” she says softly. “some songs don’t need to be loud to stay with you.”
silence stretches again. then gerard nods once.
“…okay,” he says. “yeah. okay. it stays.”
mikey’s breath leaves him all at once. he doesn’t say anything, just smiles, small and stunned, fingers tightening around hers.
frank grins. “worst presentation i’ve ever seen.”
“the best,” ray adds, amused.
mikey leans in toward her, whispering so only she can hear, “told you it just needed time.”
k... ik ive been rlly inactive in the acc, but i got to see mikey fucking way this sunday lol?! i swear i still cant believe it it was so amazing ohmygod
haiiii idk if ur taking requests, but i absolutely love your writing!! d’you think you could do something with bullets!mikey and his trans bf? maybe they’re “just friends” but while they’re having a nice lil halloween movie night, they somehow end up in each others laps. they’re both awkward and stumbling messes but the guys all think it’s adorable that mikey has finally found someone as awkward as he is lol
tonight, tonight
bullets!mikeyway x reader
a/n: hiii, omg i'm rlly srry for taking this long :(( i've been having a hard time but i'm trying to come back to tumblr, so hopefully these days i'll be able to post some more drafts :// again, i'm rlly srry, it's not even halloween anymore but i felt horrible for not uploading this fic
the house smelled like popcorn and dusty blankets.
the living room looked like a mess. ray had lit a cheap pumpkin-scented candle that was fighting for its life against the smell of gerard’s cigarette. there were tangled extension cords, a crooked string of orange lights, a bowl of candy corn that had already lost half its contents because of frank, and a pumpkin that gerard had carved into something that looked more like a potato than a face.
he was sitting on the floor with mikey, sharing an old blanket that smelled faintly like detergent and coffee. the tv’s glow flickered over his glasses while night of the living dead played in the background.
it wasn’t exactly quiet, frank and ray were arguing about whether who would win on a zombie fight, and gerard was humming some tune while drawing on a napkin.
“hey,” mikey said suddenly, his voice small under all the noise. “you want the rest of the popcorn?,” he looked down at the half-empty bowl. “we can share it, you know?.”
he blinked at him for a while. “okay. yeah. sharing’s good.”
he scooted a little closer so the bowl could sit between them. their knees brushed for a second and both froze for a while.
frank immediately noticed.
“did you see that, ray?” he whispered. “contact. that’s physical contact.”
ray sighed, trying not to laugh. “leave them alone, man. it wasn't even on purpose”
gerard grinned from the couch. “yeah, yeah, we should probablly just let them bond over processed corn.”
he covered his face, and mikey ducked his head until his hair fell into his face. “god, i'm sorry, they're not usually this annyoing. hell, i hate this band,” he muttered, smiling.
the movie kept playing, but neither of them were really watching anymore.
he whispered, “i don't think you really hate them.”
mikey looked at him from behind his glasses. “are you sure?...,” he said as both of them laughted.
...
he shifted again, and somehow they both ended up tangled in the blanket properly now, their arms presseds, the bowl long forgotten. mikey’s hoodie sleeve brushed his hand.
a loud noise from the tv made them both jump. mikey let out a startled squeak and nearly knocked over his soda.
“that was so brave of you,” he told him laughting.
“oh shut up,” he said, trying to hide a grin. “i wasn’t scared. i was just.. uh.. pre-reacting.”
“pre-reacting?”
“it’s a valid tactic,” he insisted, and the way his voice cracked made him laugh even harder.
gerard turned around from the couch, smirking. “you two doing okay over there?”
“yeah, it’s all right,” he said. “just pre-reacting.” he said as mikey threw some popcorn at him.
...
eventually, the room quieted down. ray had fallen asleep sitting on the couch, frank was doodling fake tattoos on ray’s arm, and gerard was gossiping with frank. the movie had faded into credits.
him and mikey were still under the same blanket. it was warm now, and the glow from the lights made everything feel slower, softer.
mikey shifted, his voice low. “this is probably gonna sound lame, but i’m glad you came tonight.”
...
“it does sound kinda lame.”
he laughed, rubbing his face. “okay, but like.. i just mean it's nicer when you’re here.”
“you only say that because when i’m here you don’t have to fight frank for couch space,” he teased.
he sat quiet for a second, looking over at mikey trying to memorize the look on his face, tired but happy, a little shy, he wasn’t used to saying these things out loud.
and then frank, half-asleep, mumbled from the couch, “mikey’s got a cru-”
“frank,” ray warned without opening his eyes.
“c'mon, you're so boring rayyy... just let me tease him a little, its not like we get to see this frequently.”
mikey groaned. “i swear they have microphones implanted in my brain.”
“could be worse,” he said. “please don't give them ideas.”
he nodded, and without meaning to, leaned his head against mikeys shoulder. they both went still for half a second, then gently mikey rested his head against his.
no one said anything after that. the lights flickered, the pumpkin candle sputtered, and somewhere outside, kids were still yelling 'trick or treat.'
mikey yawned quietly. “next year we should watch something less scary,” he said.
“like what?”
“maybe… ghostbusters. or scooby-doo.”
he smiled into his shoulder. “only if you promise to pre-react again.”
they laughed softly. “deal.”
...
that was how the guys found them both twenty minutes later, fast asleep under the same blanket, the popcorn bowl tipped on its side.
gerard grinned. “told you,” he whispered.
ray smiled. “it was about time he found someone who speaks fluent awkward.”
frank took a photo on a camera. “for the scrapbook,” he said proudly.
heyyy!! i hope you come back to writing soon because your fics are sooooo good. i literally reread them all the time i can’t get enough. if you don’t come back tho i wish you all the best anyways :)
hiii ! thanks smm <33 srry i haven't been posting much lately, i'm planning on uploading some old drafts these days, so hopefully it'll make up for all the time i was gone (btwww, don't be shy and send a request if you likee, my imagination isn't the best :pp)
