Grace

Hi! I'm Grace (21, she/her) and I finally bit the bullet and made a blog dedicated to my fanfics. I am still fairly new to writing fics but I have the best time doing it. Request away, I don't bite unless you want me to ;)

At this point I am only writing for MCR but that might change in the future, who knows.

Yayyyyy Frank fic!!! This is much tamer than some of my other stuff but was still so fun to write. I hope I did your vision justice. Also since the era wasn't specified I went ahead with revenge era Frank because that's my personal fave. K, luv you bye!

TW: sexual content

Pornstar!Frank x F!Reader

Internet Famous

The club was crowded and claustrophobic, the shitty house music played obnoxiously loud, making conversation at a decibel below a yell virtually impossible. You realized this now as the man you were trying to talk to stared at you confused, mouthing what? as you tried again to speak. This time, you were able to shout over the noise.

"You look so familiar, did we go to high school together?" Your words slurred slightly, you were more drunk than you wanted to let on.

The man, heavily tattooed with matching nose and lip rings smiled and shook his head. "I doubt it, I'm not from around here," he yelled back over the music.

You scrunched up your face in concentration as you wracked your brain trying to figure out who this man was. "I swear to god I know you from somewhere," you leaned in closer now, drunk enough to not feel embarrassed when his hands grabbed your hips to steady you when you lost your balance.

His eyes had a glint of humor in them when he looked back at you and shrugged. "I don't recognize you, hun. I'd definitely remember such a pretty face," his voice was closer to your ear now and you shivered at his breath on your neck.

"Are you an actor or something then? I know I've seen you before," his flirting went right over your head, you were still determined to figure out how you knew him.

He chuckled at your question and his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he answered. "You could say I'm something of an actor. How much time do you spend online, babe?"

You lurched back at his words, recognition and embarrassment flooding you immediately. He laughed at the shocked look on your face as you reeled from the sudden realization.

You two had never met before, but you were very acquainted with his presence online. In fact, you had probably spent more time consuming his content than you'd ever want to admit. Standing in front of you was your favorite porn star, and now he knew just what an avid fan you were.

"Oh my god," you said as you covered your face with your hands to try to hide the redness in your cheeks. He closed the space between you two again, gently grasping your wrists and pulling your hands away from your face.

"No need to be embarrassed, I love my fans," his voice was low and gravelly as he moved your arms to snake around his neck and let his hands settle on your hips once more.

You hid your face in his chest and groaned, still not over the humiliation but also becoming exponentially more aroused by the second. "So I guess this happens to you often?" you asked fleetingly when you finally mustered up the courage to talk to him again.

He laughed heartily at that, "No actually, this has never happened before."

His response was far from reassuring and you let out another defeated sound. "Fuck, I feel like such a creep."

"Why?" he asked genuinely. "I post my content for a reason, if I didn't want people to see it then I wouldn't put it online." He slid his hands down lower as he spoke and cupped your ass over your short skirt. "Besides, if the roles were reversed I'm pretty sure I'd be your number one fan."

You bit back a moan at the contact and leaned in closer, tangling your fingers in his hair. "Is that so?" you asked innocently, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

He nodded emphatically, biting his lip as he looked down at you. "You wanna get out of here?" he asked, his crotch grinding into you to enunciate his point.

"Definitely," you responded, taking his hand and leading him to the back door of the club.

The uber ride back to his apartment was tense, you made small talk in the back seat and tried to not fall apart as he softly skimmed his hand up and down your bare thigh. You learned his real name was Frank, he had moved to your city a couple months ago, and he had a rambunctious dog that would definitely greet the two of you enthusiastically at his front door.

As promised, as soon as you two crossed the threshold, a huge bundle of fur came careening down the hall to welcome you in. You laughed as Frank tried to wrangle his dog as it jumped excitedly at both of your legs and wagged its' tail with reckless abandon.

"Oh my god, Lois, chill out," Frank muttered in annoyance as the dog continued to demand attention, even after you had settled on the couch together. "Sorry about that, she can be a lot," He said exasperatedly, dragging his hand through his hair.

"Don't worry about it, I think she's cute," you answered with a smile as you got comfortable on the couch.

"I think you're cute," Frank quipped as he leaned in to kiss you. His lip ring was cool against your lips as you kissed. The intensity built up quickly and you found yourself dragging your tongue over his lower lip teasingly. He eagerly opened his mouth to allow you more access, his hands roaming freely on your body.

You moved to straddle him and moaned at the feeling of his hard-on underneath you. You had spent many nights imagining this exact scenario, your eyes glued to your phone watching videos Frank fuck random girls as you touched yourself and wished desperately to be one of them. You grinded your hips against his, savoring the friction you felt building between you two.

You slid your hands down his torso and pulled up the hem of his shirt, urging him to take it off. He stopped you and lazily leaned back into the couch, gazing up at you. "Nuh uh," he said tauntingly. "You've seen me before, I think it's only fair I get to see you now." You began to whine in protest but he stopped you before you could even get a word out. "That wasn't a request, that was a demand. Strip," he commanded.

You were undeniably turned on, one of the things you loved most about Frank's videos was his dominating demeanor and he could tell it worked wonders on you. You stood shyly and began to strip, starting with your top, then slipping out of your skirt, leaving you standing in front of him in only your bra and underwear.

"Keep going," he urged when you stilled, palming the bulge in his pants as he watched you. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact as you unhooked your bra and stepped out of your panties, trying to maintain an ounce of dignity as you bared all. "That's a good girl, go ahead and give me a spin," Frank praised you, his voice growing husky as his hand worked dutifully over his bulge.

You spun tentatively, and Frank let out a low whistle of approval. "Such a good girl for me, baby. I think you should get a reward now." You smiled softly, blushing at his praise. It was evident to both of you now, you were putty in his hands.

"C'mere, get on your knees." Frank ordered, gesturing to the space between his legs. You complied immediately, sinking to your knees in front of him, waiting for your next command. "Go ahead and take it out, baby girl." Your hands eagerly jumped to his waistband, making quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, pulling his boxers down with them.

His cock was long and impossibly hard, you were shocked that he was this turned on by you. You felt it twitch as you grasped it in your hand, looking up at him for approval. He licked his lips and gave you a slight nod, signaling for you to keep going. Slowly, you worked your hand up and down his length, lowering your head to lightly kiss and lick at his tip.

His hands moved to the back of your head, guiding you gently to take more of him in your mouth. His touch wasn't forceful or rough, just a reminder of who was really in charge here. As you worked your way down, you began to gag and sputter, his tip brushing your throat.

He talked you through it with encouraging words, "That's it, keep going," "You got it, just breathe through your nose," "There you go pretty girl, doing it just like the pros."

His hands dictated your pace, adding more or less pressure on the back of your head to indicate when you should speed up and slow down. You looked up at him through your lashes, eyes prickling with tears from the exertion on your throat. He shot you a crooked grin when he made eye contact with you and continued his praises. "Just like that, babe. You look so fucking pretty like this."

Your jaw was growing tired but you continued to push on, determined to grant him the pleasure he had unknowingly been supplying you for so long. He released his hands from your head, urging for you to take a break. He pulled you up onto his lap and captured your mouth in a sloppy kiss, your lips slick with saliva and the taste of him still fresh on your tongue.

When you pulled apart, he took a second to access how you were holding up. "You doing ok? Want me to slow down?" he asked, concern evident on his face.

"I'm totally fine, I want to do whatever you want. I'll really do anything," you said earnestly. You were trying so hard to compete with the porn stars he usually hooked up with, you were prepared to go above and beyond for him.

His expression saddened slightly at that. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, softly brushing the hair out of your face. "Don't say that," he says quietly. "I don't want you to think of me as some pervert just 'cause of what I post online. That shit isn't real."

You relaxed at his words, feeling relieved that he didn't want you to put on a performance. "Yeah, I know," you replied. "I just want you to enjoy it, I feel like I have big expectations to live up to I guess."

Frank scoffed at that, a smile ghosting over his lips. "Do you think I'm not enjoying myself?"

You shrugged and giggled softly, "I don't know. I mean you said it yourself, you're an actor."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not that good of an actor," he said, grinning.

The whole scene began to feel very tender as you leaned in to kiss him for real this time, no pretenses or expectations, just raw emotion and connection. He kissed you back eagerly, melting into your touch.

As things began to heat up again, he pulled away momentarily to suggest moving to his bedroom. After a few more kisses, you agreed and followed him deeper into his apartment.

His room was cluttered. Messy, but not dirty. The bed was unmade and there were clothes strewn about the floor. The walls were covered in posters of bands you'd never heard of. You recognized it from his videos, it felt surreal stepping inside.

As you settled on the bed, he finished stripping the rest of his clothes before quickly following suit. He braced himself on his forearms on top of you, kissing you gently before moving his way down your body. He kneaded your breasts as he continued his journey down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. When he reached your thighs, he nipped lightly at the skin, taking pleasure in the small mewls that fell from your mouth when he did so.

"Already fucking soaked, all for me huh?" Frank asked huskily from between your thighs, his hands moving to spread you open wider. You nodded desperately as you gazed down at him. He grinned and leaned his head down, licking expertly from your hole to your clit. You shuddered under his grasp and dug your fingers into the bedsheets.

Frank set a relentless pace, using his tongue in all the right places with the precision of someone who has had years of practice. You let out a loud gasp as you suddenly feel his fingers inside you, thrusting at the same maddening pace as his tongue. Your head was thrown back against the pillow, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

For a moment he goes entirely still, leaving his fingers in you but pulling his head away to look you in the eye. "No looking away. Eyes on me," he said, his voice dripping with the same authority from earlier in the night. You found the strength to raise your head back up, leaning back on your elbows to give yourself a better vantage point.

Once Frank was pleased with your position and your focus on him, he continued at the same pace as before. You struggled to remain propped up, your arms threatened to give out every time his tongue grazed your clit just right. The mere sight of him between your legs was almost enough to send you over the edge.

You weren't going to last much longer and Frank could tell, he felt your thighs trembling around him as he continued to piston his fingers in and out of you. He raised his head again, pleased to see you had abided by his rules and hadn't looked away.

"You getting close? You gonna cum for me?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. You were barely able to think straight at this point, nodding vigorously and babbling a string of incoherent affirmations. Frank smiled at the sight and encouraged you to finish. "Go on baby, cum for me," he urged, dipping his head down once more to help push you to your orgasm.

You came hard, moaning loudly and closing your thighs hard, locking him in place. He slowed his pace and let you ride off the aftershocks on his fingers. Once you were done, he came up to be on top of you once more. He kissed you deeply, his lips were slick with your arousal and you tasted yourself on his mouth.

His upper body caged you in as he grinded slowly near your entrance. You were still sensitive from your recent orgasm, each time his tip neared your clit your body felt like a live wire.

"Still got one more in you?" he asked teasingly, dragging his length through your folds.

"Definitely," you answered, angling your hips upwards to grant him full access.

"That's my girl, I knew you did," Frank praised. He slid in slowly, giving you time to adapt to the stretch.

You whined as he filled you up, it felt like his tip reached all the way to your cervix. "I know, I know," he whispered assuringly as he bottomed out and began to thrust gently.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you breathed as he began to set a rhythm. He buried his face in your neck, sucking dark bruises you knew you'd regret in the morning. Your arms wrapped around his back, your nails digging into his skin and leaving bright red lines as he thrusted into you.

His hands came to your hips and he flipped you over, positioning you on all fours and lining himself up with your entrance once more. You let out a breathy moan as he slid back in, resuming the same quickening rhythm.

"That's it, you can take it, you've got this," he rasped as he slid one of his hands down to start playing with your clit. You arched your back into his hold, feeling overstimulated in the best way at his touch.

"You're a fucking natural. So fucking hot," he grunted, slapping your ass hard. "Gonna have to bring out my camera next time, yeah? Such a shame no one else can see how fucking perfect you are for me."

You were nearing your second orgasm of the night and from the way his movements began to falter and his moans grew breathier, you could tell Frank was getting close too. You clawed at the sheets with renewed strength as you grew closer, the sound of him panting above you fueling your performance.

"Oh shit, baby. I'm gonna cum," Frank whined as your walls clamped around him, contracting as your own release ripped through you. He buried himself deep with a final thrust and emptied his load inside of you. You could feel him pulse inside of you with every jet that he pumped into you.

You two collapsed in a heap, both of you sticky and sweaty from the exertion. He held you close to him and planted a kiss on the top of your head as you both caught your breath.

It was silent aside from the sound of your breathing, you could just barely make out the sound of his heart beating as you laid on his chest.

Frank was the first to speak, clearing his throat before he did so. "I'm glad you recognized me," he said looking down at you fondly.

Why of course!

Same usual TWs apply: manipulation, coercion, general ickiness. DDNE!!!!

Like a Virgin: Incel!Gerard Oneshot

Incel!Gerard x f!reader -- 1.6k words

You're still not sure how you ended up here. The basement was dim and musty, it felt a bit like navigating a natural disaster when you made your way from the bottom of the staircase to the edge of his bed. He sat next to you, awkwardly fidgeting and muttering some half-hearted apology about the mess. He didn't mean it though, he really couldn't care less what you thought of the state of his room. You were here, weren't you? That was enough.

You two were certainly an unlikely pairing. While you weren't exactly the life of the party and no one would describe you as someone who lit up a room, you were well-liked. Contrastingly, Gerard was an outcast in every sense of the word. He was a loner, always treading on the outskirts of society with no real interest of joining it. You admired that about him, in a world full of people trying so hard to conform and fit in, he took pride in sticking out like a sore thumb.

You had been going through a hard time recently and no one around you seemed to notice or care. Except for Gerard, he always noticed you. He could sense changes in your emotions like a dog senses bad weather on the horizon. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew he did, that's how he always managed to have you right where he wanted you.

He had noticed the shift in your demeanor long before anyone else did, even you. You became reserved, you stopped trying to add things to conversations, stopped making plans with people, stopped smiling when you greeted others. You were vulnerable, it was so beautiful to him.

His moves were calculated, a random text here and there, mentioning he saw something that reminded him of you, holding eye contact longer than necessary. And by the grace of god it worked. Here you were now.

It was late when you knocked on his door, you half expected him to not answer. You had only been to his house once before and you hadn't even gone inside. His car had broken down at work a while back and you offered to give him a ride home. That was months ago, but you still remembered the way there.

He opened the door in his pajamas, he looked like he had just been awakened from a deep sleep and was ready to chew out whoever was the source of the disruption. His gaze softened when he saw it was you. Neither of you spoke, you didn't have to. He led you to his room in silence.

"I don't really know why I came here," you said softly as you sat side by side on the edge of the bed. "I guess I just didn't know where else to go. Is that super weird?"

Gerard shrugged. "I don't think so. You wanted to feel safe, yeah?"

You nodded pensively, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Do you feel safe when you're with me?" he probed.

You nodded once more. He cracked a small smile, "That makes sense then. I don't think it's weird at all." Your hand moved shyly to cover his.

"Sometimes it scares me how well you can read me," you admitted, staring down at where you two now connected. His hand was soft, it fit nicely in yours.

He chuckled, "You think I'm scary?"

You let out a small huff, "You know that's not what I meant. It can just be overwhelming, I feel like I can't hide anything from you."

"And what would you ever need to hide from me?" he asked gently, threading his fingers in yours.

You shrugged, your face suddenly burning red. "That I have feelings for you," your voice was hardly above a whisper.

He chuckled again, "You weren't very good at hiding that anyways."

He pulled his hand away and you winced at the loss of contact, terrified that you had just ruined everything. But no sooner had it left your hand than it landed softly on your cheek, moving your head gently so that you could no longer avoid eye contact.

"I have feelings for you, too. You know that?" he professed, his warm gaze unwavering.

"Now I do," you answered, a shy smile overcoming your face.

He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away. The kiss started off soft, his lips moving gently over yours. You moved to be closer to him, angling your body sideways and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands skimmed lower, settling lightly on your waist. You played with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling only slightly perturbed by just how greasy it was.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself straddling his lap. At the same time, you began to realize he was a rather inexperienced kisser. You hadn’t expected him to be very seasoned, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise, just a mental note to keep stored away.

His lips moved more messily as he began to unravel with desire, leaving sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hands wandered over the expanse of your body, running up and down your sides, grazing the small of your back, gripping your thighs. It felt like he was everywhere all at once and it made your head start to spin.

His hands dropped to the hem of your shirt, lifting it to expose your mid section. Your breath caught in your throat when you jerked away, your hands quickly moving to grab his own. “It’s ok, we don’t have to move so fast,” you murmured. Your heart was racing as you watched his facial expression fall at your light rejection.

He leaned back in and kissed you gently, whispering into the kiss, “Let me show you how much I care.” His hands continued to slide up under your grasp, your head felt clouded by his words and his actions. You let him take off your shirt.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, kissing reverently and muttering praise in between breaths. “So beautiful,” “Wanted this for so long,” “So good for me.” His hands kneaded your breasts over your bra and his whole body shuddered at the contact.

You could feel the obvious tent in his pants and it would be a lie to say you weren't turned on as well, but the fast progression of events gave you no time to think if it was truly what you wanted. But you felt safe with him, right? He would never do anything to hurt you... right?

Your mind raced as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra, leaving your upper half entirely bare. "You are so fucking gorgeous," he breathed as he took in the sight before him. He wasted no time in dropping his head and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, his hand coming up to toy with the other.

Your head lolled back at the sensation and you let out a soft gasp which spurred him on further. He alternated his head and hands between your breasts with reckless abandon, moaning at the mere opportunity to have you like this.

He moved you both further onto the bed, laying you down softly so that he was now on top. He began to strip your lower half and you didn't put up a fight, yet the internal war in your mind waged on.

Once you were entirely bare, he began to strip as well, his confident persona slipping as his hands trembled while he slid down the waistband of his pajama pants. You laid still beneath him, anticipating what was to come.

Despite his off-putting nature, you couldn't help but find Gerard attractive. Everything about him was striking to you, his angular features, his unnaturally pale skin, his crooked smile. Your eyes drifted downwards to his member. His pubic hair was unkempt and messy, but his cock was surprisingly large, probably just slightly above average.

You couldn't look away as he leaned down to cage you in with his body and lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed in slowly with a shaky exhale, lowering his head to the crook of your neck to hide his reddening face. He stilled for a moment, more for his sake than yours as he tried to regain his composure.

After a few deep breaths he began to move, his thrusts were uncoordinated and he was definitely leaving visible hickeys on your neck. Almost as soon as it started it was over, his breath was ragged as he came. He pulled out quickly and laid beside you, staring at the ceiling as he spoke.

His words came out in anxious bursts, "I - uh, usually last longer than that, it's just -um, you're just like so... I guess I just like wanted to do that with you for a long time so I just..."

You cut him off before he continued to embarrass himself. "No yeah, I get it. No judgement."

He let out a sigh of relief, "You're the best. Just like, truly the best. I'm glad you came here tonight."

You nodded in agreeance even though you couldn't tell if you were happy that you ended up in this predicament.

"You can spend the night, if you want," he said hopefully, finally turning to look at you.

You weighed your options. You didn't really want to go home but you didn't particularly want to stay here either. But with him looking at you like that, eyes so full of vulnerable hope, knowing he had just lost his virginity to you even if he wouldn't admit it, you couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, sure. That'd be nice."

If you insist!!!

TWs for overall grossness, self harm, manipulation, icky stuff!

• Incel!Gerard who cuts himself after your first fight to show you that your words hurt more than just his heart, they hurt his very soul. The next time you guys meet up, he deliberately wears short sleeves, his fresh wounds on full display. When you bring them up he just shrugs, "I felt like I deserved it. You made me feel like I deserved it."

• Incel!Gerard who threatens to hurt himself if you even think about leaving. He gets the upper hand in every argument by insinuating that his blood would be on your hands if you were to break up with him. He just loves you so much, there's no point in living if you're not in his life.

• Incel!Gerard who takes pleasure in knowing you're trapped with him. He's worn down your confidence bit by bit, making off handed comments about things you're insecure about, telling you how lucky you are to have him because no one else would put up with you. You have started to believe it.

• Incel!Gerard who has started to isolate you from your friends and family. Why do you need them? They could never come close to understanding you the way he does.

• Incel!Gerard who insists you guys have sex every time you're together. He has garnered enough experience with you now to make sex more enjoyable, mostly for him though. He prioritizes his orgasm over yours, but still takes delight in making you cum, reminding you every time that only he can make you feel this good.

• Incel!Gerard who refuses to wear a condom. He wants to feel every inch of you, how can you expect him to do that with a stupid rubber sleeve separating you guys?

• Incel!Gerard who always finishes inside you, even if you beg him not to. He just can't help it, pinning you under him when you try to get him to pull out. Kissing you softly when he's done, apologizing and saying you just make him get so carried away, that he'll try harder to pull out next time. You both know he's lying.

• Incel!Gerard who doesn't really care if you get knocked up. It's just another way of ensuring you'll never leave.

• Incel!Gerard who insists you should just move in with him, you guys are in it for the long run so why not act like it? Who cares that he lives in his parents' basement? It just means neither of you will have to pay rent.

• Incel!Gerard who gets passive aggressive if you don't see him everyday. Calling you nonstop, asking who you're with, asking if they're better company than him, giving you the silent treatment when you try to apologize.

Basement!Gerard x f!reader

Inspired by Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too by Say Anything. Sweet, desperate phone sex >:)

I'm trying to be more active on here so please send asks!!! I might make a part 2 to this if anyone is interested :)

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I awoke with a start, groping blindly at my bedsheets as I tried to locate my phone. The tinny polyphonic ringtone chimed loudly, bouncing off the walls of my childhood bedroom. Groggily, I found the source of the unpleasant noise and made a mental note to change my ringtone from the obnoxious default sound that was currently reverberating around me. I flipped the screen open and held my phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I mumbled into the receiver, my voice still low and relaxed from sleep.

"Ah shit, did I wake you up?" the voice on the other end answered. I could picture the face of my caller, his nose scrunched in concern behind the inky black curtain of his unwashed hair. I didn't need to check the caller ID to know who was on the other side of the line.

"Yeah, Gee." I answered, trying to mask my annoyance. "It's like, 2 AM here." 

"Yeah it's pretty late here, too." He replied awkwardly, I could hear his uneven breathing through the phone. 

"I know that dumb ass," I shot back. "We're practically still in the same time zone." At this point, I'm sure the aggravation had seeped into my voice. Gerard knew that I was home visiting my family and would be back in New York in less than a week. He knew that my hometown was one hour behind EDT, he also knew that I didn't appreciate my sleep being disturbed. 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, just go back to sleep." He surrendered, trying to diffuse the bomb he had accidentally set off. 

"No, I'm awake now." I spoke flatly. "This better be good, why'd you call me?"

The other line went quiet for a beat before he spoke next. "Because I miss you."

I paused, that certainly wasn't the answer I had expected. "Oh," was all I could think to say.

"Not in like a weird way," he continued nervously, "Just like, we usually spend Friday nights together and now it's Friday night and you're not here and..." His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, unsure of how he should conclude the thought. 

"No, yeah. I get it." I assured him. "I miss you too. It's boring as fuck here."

He breathed out a small, relieved laugh at my agreeance. "It's boring here, too. I tried to get Mikey to go to the movies with me tonight but he flaked on me last second," Gerard huffed.

"He's too cool for you now, you know that." I said sarcastically. As Gerard got further into his studies at art school and subsequently further from home, Mikey had taken it upon himself to routinely decline his brother's invitations to hang out, more often than not telling him to hang out with his new artsy friends instead.

I could practically hear Gerard's eyes rolling on the other side of the phone. "Yeah, right." He scoffed. "That fucker still watches Disney movies to fall asleep. He's not too cool for anything."

I laughed brightly at that, my irritation at being woken up fading away with every passing second on the phone. Truthfully, I did miss Gerard. Recently, we hadn't been as in touch as we usually were, especially not since the incident. "You have a point there," I chuckled. "Too bad I'm away right now, I would've gone to the movies with you."

I heard Gerard adjusting his grip on the phone in response to that statement. "Well, there's always next week," he said hopefully.

"Yeah, it's a date," I replied with a yawn, stretching out on my bed. The line went silent again, I waited a moment for him to speak before opening my mouth again. "Gerard? You still there?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm here." He answered quickly. "Sorry, just thinking."

"About what?" I asked incredulously, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor.

"Nothing, it's stupid. It doesn't matter." He shot down my question dismissively, obviously wanting to change the subject. But I wasn't ready to let it go yet.

"No, seriously. Tell me what's on your mind." I asserted, throwing the sheets to the side of the bed and sitting up to lean against my headboard.

"Fuck, I don't even know how to say this." He muttered nervously. I waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. He took in a deep breath before he spoke again. "I guess... earlier when you said it's a date about going to the movies, I know you didn't mean anything by it but it just made me think about what happened the other week and well... I guess I was just wondering where you stood on all that."

I sighed deeply as his anxious ramble came to an end. I knew exactly which night he was referring to. Even though I knew it was going to come up eventually, I had hoped that if I just ignored it enough, it might go away.

Two Fridays ago, we had been hanging out like normal. Gerard, Frank, Ray, Mikey, and I were all stoned and sprawled across our designated hangout zone, which happened to be Gerard's basement. Frank and Ray were engrossed in some deep conversation on the couch while Mikey sat cross legged on the floor, staring at the poster-covered wall in front of him and spacing out. Gerard and I laid on the bed, his legs dangled off the side to make room for me to stretch out on the mattress. My body was taking up an obnoxious amount of space and, ever the gentleman, Gerard did not protest my intrusion.

He tried his best to not get too close to me, actively making himself smaller as I rambled on about what a horrible week it had been. Despite the physical distance between us, I felt the warmth of his gaze as I continued to rant, my face grew warmer not from the anger of my tirade, but from the intensity of his eyes on me. As my story came to a close, I sat expectantly awaiting Gerard's response. But he stayed silent, his eyes were red and hazy from the weed and remained unwaveringly trained on my face. The world kept moving around us as we stayed there, looking at one another wordlessly.

Abruptly, Mikey shot up and announced to the room that he was going to bed and retreated upstairs. Frank and Ray agreed that they were ready to get going, their highs were both long gone. They cast sideways glances our way as they too opened the bedroom door and disappeared behind it. 

"What are you thinking about?" I asked quietly, my voice hardly above a whisper even though it was now just the two of us in the room.

"You," Gerard answered, equally quiet. "What are you thinking about?" he asked in return.

"You," I whispered back.

The whole time we were on the bed, we had been moving like glaciers, so slowly that I hadn't noticed the distance between our bodies growing incrementally smaller. Now, we both laid on our sides facing each other, our eyes still glued to one another. Time slowed as he draped his arm lazily around my waist. It stopped altogether when I brought my hand up to caress his face. My fingers traced his features with earnest, trying to map out every pore and freckle so as to one day have him committed to memory. 

The kiss was inevitable. It came gradually, and then all at once, our lips brushing softly for a millisecond before fully connecting. We fell into a lazy rhythm, his hand grounding me on my hip and my hand grounding him on his cheek. It was nice, there was no rush or fervor, we kissed like we had all the time in the world. We were the center of our own universe, nothing else existed.

As gradually as it started, it came to an end, each of us slowly pulling away and assuming the same staring contest from before. We didn't speak about it. I fell asleep on his chest. I woke up before him that Saturday morning, he slept peacefully beneath me. I slipped away without waking him. We still haven't spoken about it.

My mouth went dry as I tried and failed to find the words to describe what that night had meant to me. "Fuck, Gee. I don't even know what to say," I admitted lamely. The air on the phone was tense as I continued, "Like I'd be lying if I said it didn't mean anything to me, but the thing is, I guess I don't know what it meant." My confession hung between us, I rocked anxiously on my bed. "Please say something," I whispered desperately after a minute had passed.

"Can I tell you what it meant to me?" His voice was quiet on the other end.

"Please," I urged him to continue.

"It confirmed what I already knew," he started, working up the confidence to continue. "I can't be your friend. I'll always want more than that."

My heart skipped a beat in my chest, my voice stayed low and quiet when I responded. "What do you want, Gee?"

His voice morphed into a version I had never heard before, husky and desperate as he spoke. "I want you in any capacity you'll have me."

I inhaled sharply at his confession, feeling it shoot straight through me and remain lingering between my thighs. "Were you hard when I kissed you?" I asked, lying back down on my bed and sliding my hand down to toy with the waistband of my pajamas.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Painfully hard." "Are you hard right now?" I let my hand slip lower.

"Yes," he repeated before turning the question on me. "Are you wet right now?"

"Soaked." I answered matter of factly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He let out a low groan in response, I could hear the muffled sound of fabric rustling on the other line. "Fuck, why are you so fucking far away right now?" he whined. 

"Poor baby," I cooed. "What's all that noise I'm hearing over there? You jerking off to me?" I asked playfully as if I didn't also have my hand in my pants.

"God, yeah. I can't help it," his voice was turning increasingly breathy and strained as he desperately fucked into his hand. "You're so fucking perfect, my cock was already throbbing when I picked up the phone."

My fingers sped up on my clit and I closed my eyes tight, trying to picture the scene unfolding on the other end of the call. "You're such a perv, calling me just to get off to my voice. Have you done that before?"

He whimpered pitifully when he spoke, "Only once."

"Oh my god," I moaned out, unable to conceal how incredibly turned on his confession made me. "When?"

"Like a month ago when you called me when you were sick. You were complaining about how you had puked earlier and your voice was so sniffly and pathetic, it just made me want to come over and fuck the sickness out of you." He admitted, his voice waning in embarrassment towards the end of his sentence.

"You're such a freak," I groaned, clutching my phone tightly as I played with my increasingly sensitive clit.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," he choked out, his breath becoming uneven.

"You like it when I degrade you?" my thighs clamped together involuntarily as I spoke, putting even more pressure on the sensitivity between my legs.

"Yes, fuck. I'm getting so close," his voice was strained as he continued, "I've imagined this so many times, you have no idea. Thinking about you is the only thing that makes me cum now."

"God, you're insane. I'm so fucking close," I whined, my composure completely unravelling as my hips bucked into my own touch.

"I wish I could see you right now, bet you look so fucking gorgeous," He grunted huskily.

With that, I was sent over the edge and came hard, whimpering noisily into the phone. Not long after, I heard Gerard reach his limit too, spilling into his hand with a long string of curses.

I laid still in bed, my grip on my phone loosening as I tried to catch my breath and make sense of what had just occurred. On the other line, it sounded like Gerard was doing the same thing. I felt paralyzed with both excitement and fear at the realization that nothing could ever be the same between Gerard and I now. We had crossed a line that was impossible to ignore. 

I was so lost in thought that I jumped when I heard his voice again. "So, about that date," he said playfully, I could hear the smile in his voice. 

I laughed at the absurdity of this whole situation when I replied, "What about it?"

"Can I take you out on a date? Like a real one?" he asked earnestly.

"Yes, I'd love that." I answered as a blushing smile spread over my face.

• Incel!Gerard whose hygiene is so bad that you genuinely have trouble being around him for extended periods of time

• Incel!Gerard who is soooo clingy. He knows you're out of his league, he also knows you'll figure it out soon so he goes out of his way to be as close to you as possible at all times.

• Incel!Gerard that always cums embarrassingly fast. He tries to hide how red he gets afterwards by burying his head in your neck, trying desperately to distract from his less than stellar performance. It's endearing, in a weird way.

• Incel!Gerard who was a virgin before you and is mortified when he realizes you knew all along.

• Incel!Gerard who is constantly horny. Truly incapable of keeping it in his pants, especially after losing his virginity.

• Incel!Gerard who gives you a UTI due to his lack of personal hygiene.

• Incel!Gerard who begs you to still let him fuck you while you're in pain, not caring when you tell him the doctor told you not to have sex again until you finished the antibiotics for your UTI.

• Incel!Gerard who wears you down, begging with actual tears in his eyes, promising he'll be gentle and it won't take long. How could you ever say no to him?

• Incel!Gerard who lasts the longest he ever has while watching you squirm under him from the discomfort and pain of him being inside of you. You think it's because he has a harder time getting turned on seeing you in such a state, in reality he was forcing himself to pace himself to savor the feeling. He's afraid to admit how much you struggling turns him on.

• Incel!Gerard who secretly loves the power he feels when he has you pinned under him mewling in pain and pleasure.

Not Quite a Stranger

bulletsera!gerard x f!reader 5.2k words

It was a particularly sad Friday night. Moving to a new city meant leaving my whole life behind, everyone and everything I had ever known or loved was left in my wake as I tried desperately to make sense of why I had done this. A fresh start sounded wonderful on paper, what could be better than an escape from the blistering heat and horrible memories of home? I kept telling myself that this move would force me to branch out and meet new people, however, this task unfortunately proved to be much easier said than done. As I stood at the back of the dimly lit dive bar, I came to the bleak realization that I had never felt as out of place or far from home as I did in that moment. Watching the ramshackle bands parade about on the stage, which looked to be about 2 stage dives away from caving in on itself completely, and the throng of people losing themselves in the crowd, a pang of loneliness shot through my heart. What I wouldn't have given to be a part of the crowd, to belong in a setting filled with such raucous joy instead of meandering by the bar like a lost puppy. That night, it truly seemed to me that I would never belong, that no matter where I went or what I did, I would always just be me.

I had resigned to myself the fact that this was to be my fate in life, an interloper on the outskirts of humanity. I made my way across the sticky floor to order one last drink and close out my tab as the shitty cover band on stage finished their set. I had a slight buzz that I was nursing with a near constant flow of cheap seltzers and decided that this one would be my last before calling it a night. Even with liquid courage coursing through my veins and flushing my body with warmth, I could not work up the confidence to insert myself into the crowd. I continued to hang towards the back of the venue and watched as the next band set up on stage. 

They too looked like they didn't quite belong, a hodgepodge of individuals so vastly different from one another that seeing them together as a group was almost jarring. On one side of the stage, there was a short guitarist with a large tattoo on his neck, the subject of which I couldn't make out from my vantage point. Next to him stood the bassist, a tall lanky kid who had obviously rushed when straight ironing his hair backstage. The opposite side of the stage housed another guitarist with a tall build and curly hair that fell over his face as he leaned in close to his guitar, his long fingers meticulously tinkering with the tuning pegs. Finally, front and center was the singer whose skin was so pale he almost looked translucent under the harsh lights of the stage. He fidgeted nervously with the mic stand as the other members got all their equipment set up. There was something endearing about all of them, an unlikely bunch that held a nervous energy as they nodded to one another, signifying that each of them felt ready to start the set.

Without an introduction, they sprang to life and transformed into more confident versions of themselves. With each note that rang out into the cramped bar, they commanded attention from the crowd, more so than any act that had went on before them. It was fun to watch, yet I couldn't help but feel a bit morose as I ruminated about how there was nothing in my life that lit me up with passion the way that performing obviously did for them. I was always the same meek, awkward version of myself no matter what, I had no stage persona to hide behind. 

Their set finished just as abruptly as it started, the final chords of their last song hanging in the air as the band turned back into the less grandiose versions of themselves they were when they first went on stage, like Cinderella when the clock struck midnight. "Thanks for having us tonight, we're, uh, My Chemical Romance," the front man mumbled into the mic before leaving the stage, the other guys following in tow. I finished off my drink as the next band came out, trying my best to remain undetected as I made my way through the bar to the back exit. The fresh air that hit me as soon as I opened the door was refreshing, especially after spending the last few hours packed in a room filled to the brim with sweaty bodies. My ears rang slightly as I leaned on the brick exterior of the building and lit a cigarette, doing mental calculations as I tried to figure out the fastest route home. 

As I smoked, I vaguely noticed the door I had come out of opening and closing a handful of times behind me. I kept my gaze down, wanting to finish my cigarette in peace and be on my way. Consequently, I was startled when someone entered my peripheral vision. They maintained their distance and I listened as they flicked open a lighter and lit a cigarette of their own. Curiosity got the best of me and I stole a glance in their direction, and to my surprise, it was the vocalist of the band that had just finished their set. His gaze was also cast downward, his posture somewhat hunched and lacking the boldness he had on stage. His hair fell in a greasy black curtain that obscured most of his face, but from what little of it I could see, I could tell he was very handsome. 

The more intimate setting of the bar's exterior mixed with my buzz from the alcohol and nicotine gave me the confidence to do the very thing I'd been avoiding all night, talk to someone. I cleared my throat and felt my mouth go dry as I spoke, "You were in that last band, right? You guys are really good." He looked up quickly, scanning my face as if he were trying to ascertain whether or not I was messing with him. 

"Yeah. Thanks," he replied timidly, not making eye contact for longer than two seconds at a time. Undeterred by his anxious behavior, I continued the conversation. "How long have you been performing?" I asked as he took a particularly long drag. 

He blew the smoke in the opposite direction of me before he answered, "Uh, a couple of months now. Not long." My shock must have been evident on my face as he let out a nervous chuckle when he looked up at me. 

"No shit, I mean you're seriously a natural. I would've believed you've been doing this forever," I told him sincerely. A blush spread over his cheeks in response to my compliment. He rubbed the back of his neck as a shy smile appeared on his lips. "Well, thanks. I don't think we're that great yet, but we're getting there."

I was struck by his humbleness, most of the musicians that I knew from home were self-righteous assholes, his humility was a nice change of pace. I was pondering this over my cigarette when he spoke again, "You come to these shows often?" 

I shook my head, "Not really, I just moved here. I was pretty into the local scene in my hometown, but this is my first show in Jersey." 

"Makes sense, I figured you weren't a regular," he replied, taking another drag before he continued, "I would've definitely noticed you by now if you were." It was my turn to blush now, I shyly looked away to try to hide my reddening face.

"Well, after tonight I think I will be," I said with conviction. He smiled at that, lopsided and toothy. I couldn't help but grin back, his smile was infectious. As our cigarettes burned down to just the filters, we shared a moment of silence, neither of us quite ready for the interaction to end. He was the first to speak, "How are you getting home?"

I shrugged noncommittally, "I don't live that far, I figured I'd just walk." His eyes widened with concern at that. "Alone? This late?" he probed. I shrugged again, "I guess so, I have pepper spray if I need it." He shook his head, seemingly shocked at my nonchalance.

"I don't know if walking home alone in the middle of the night is a thing where you're from, but I wouldn't recommend that here. It's just not safe,"  I averted my gaze, embarrassed at my ignorance. Of course I knew it wasn't safe to walk home alone at night in an unfamiliar area, but I didn't really care about what could potentially happen to me. I had gotten to a stage in my life where the prospect of getting murdered really didn't seem all that bad. If it was gruesome enough, then eventually some beautiful B-list actress, that bears no resemblance to me, could play me in a movie that ultimately gets lukewarm reviews from the box office.

He let out a deep sigh, clearly measuring his next words. "I know we just met and all, but let me give you a ride. Please." I was surprised at his generosity, it had been a long time since someone had expressed actual concern for me, much less a stranger. 

I mulled over the offer in my head, then nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking, honestly. I can give you gas money if you want." He let out a slight laugh at that. "You don't have to do that," he said, starting to walk in the direction of his car. I followed close behind. "And you don't have to give me a ride," I countered. 

"I guess not, but isn't it like, my civic duty, or something?" he teased. "Like, I couldn't in good conscience let a pretty girl walk home alone in the middle of the night." I laughed along with him, feeling butterflies in my stomach at the compliment. 

"Yeah, but there could always be a twist," I offered. He raised his eyebrows at me, urging me to continue. "Like, what if the handsome stranger offering me a ride in the middle of the night is actually a serial killer? That'd make for a pretty good story I think." He feigned offense, scoffing in response. 

"Actually, a better twist would have you end up as the murderer," he pointed out, "That'd be like, an M. Night Shyamalan level twist. No one would see it coming." I raised my hands up in mock defeat. "You caught me, I was totally going to murder you when we got to your car." 

"Well, you better act quick," he joked as he pulled the car keys from his pocket. "This is it," he said gesturing to a somewhat beat up car parked around the back of the building. He unlocked the passenger side door and opened it for me. 

"Thank you again, really," I said, the humor that had been in my voice changing to sincerity. "I don't think I even asked what your name is," I realized aloud as I sat down in the car. He chuckled, "No, I guess we skipped that part. I'm Gerard." I told him my name in response. He gave me another toothy grin before walking around the car to get in the driver's seat. 

"Which way are we headed?" he asked as the engine hummed to life. I directed him the entire way to my apartment. The drive itself only lasted about 5 minutes and I felt a pang in my heart as we pulled up in front of my building, knowing that all that waited for me inside was my empty room. I felt a little silly for feeling so sad about leaving him, we had met less than an hour beforehand and I had already grown attached. The quiet humanity that poured out of him was a breath of fresh air, I had been so used to the cruelty of the world that his small actions made me feel more deeply grounded than I think he realized. I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to look at him, my breath catching in my throat when I noticed his gaze was already fixed on me. 

My body buzzed with adrenaline and before I could stop myself, I spoke. "Do you want to come up?" I asked, the question coming out a little more desperate than I had intended. His answer was immediate, "Yes, definitely."

It took me two attempts to unlock my front door, my hand was trembling so badly that I entirely missed the keyhole on my first try. He followed me over the threshold as I groped the wall for my light switch, still not entirely acclimated to the layout of the new apartment. As the lights flickered on, I held back my cringe at the space illuminated before us. There were mountains of boxes stacked against the far wall, still filled with remnants of my old life. I was in the process of moving in, but my depression got in the way of my unpacking most days. The apartment was modest, around 1000 square feet, but the sheer amount of clutter I had accumulated made the space feel even smaller.

"Sorry about the mess, I still haven't quite finished moving in," I said apologetically, suddenly feeling very vulnerable at the sight of him standing in my sad excuse of a living room. "I'd hardly call this a mess, honestly," Gerard dismissed with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch. I followed suit.

"I'm actually impressed you have your own place," he continued, "I'm still living at my parent's." I shrugged as I responded, "It's nothing much. And I was living at home too before I moved here. As nice as it is being on my own, I kinda miss it sometimes."

As I settled in to get more comfortable, I felt his arm snake around the back of the couch, just barely hovering over my shoulders. I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. "I finally got my DVR and DVD player set up, I could put on a movie?" 

"Sure, whatcha got?" he asked. I hopped off the couch to flip through my DVD collection, a small hoard I had put together over the years. "Depends, what're you into?" I asked as I bent down over the cardboard box that was currently housing all the discs that I was too lazy to put away. It took him a second to respond, I looked over my shoulder and found him trying and failing to hide that he had been checking me out as I bent over. My face turned a light shade of pink as he stammered out a response, "I'll watch pretty much anything."

I continued to rifle through my collection before making my pick. "You like horror?" I posited as I retrieved my copy of the original 1973 The Exorcist. He nodded animatedly at that and I popped the disc into the player before returning to my spot on the couch. "Oh man, I fucking love this movie. You have good taste," he said with actual admiration in his voice. "I know right," I quipped back as I gathered up the confidence to rest my head on his shoulder. His body tensed up, but he didn't pull away. He let out a shaky exhale that he tried to conceal with a cough, I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. 

As the movie played, we both became more comfortable being around each other. By the halfway mark, he had stretched out on the couch and I laid my head across his lap. My heart skipped a beat every time he absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair. I could feel him adjusting his position under me and I pretended to not notice his quickly growing bulge.

Suddenly, his hand moved to skim the top of my thigh. He whispered a soft "Is this ok?" as he traced small circles on my skin. I nodded, and he continued, his hand mapping the length of my thigh. I felt goosebumps raise on my skin at the tenderness of his touch, slowly migrating upwards to rest on the waistband of my skirt. He left it there for a moment, I could feel him above me regulating his breathing. I averted my gaze from the screen, looking up to find that he was already fixated on me, the movie long forgotten in his mind. My face felt hot under the intensity of his gaze as I sat up, moving myself to straddle his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. One of his hands remained on my waist while the other raised up to cradle my cheek.

"Is this ok?" I found myself asking. He didn't dignify my question with a verbal response; instead, he leaned in swiftly to close the gap between us, kissing me deeply. I reciprocated immediately, all the tension in my body disappearing once his lips finally found mine. I moved my hips tentatively, scared to break the sanctity of the moment. He gasped into the kiss and let both his hands settle on my waist, grabbing hold of me to set a more intense rhythm. I traced his bottom lip with my tongue and he readily opened his mouth, allowing me access. My hands were everywhere, his neck, his hair, his cheek, his arms, his back; I felt desperate to explore every inch of him. He strengthened his grip on my waist and began to meet each of my movements with one of his own, unabashedly dry humping me on the couch under the staticky tv light.

I could feel myself soaking through my panties, undoubtably leaving a wet spot on his jeans. From what I could feel beneath me, he seemed to have plenty to work with and I shivered at the thought. One of his hands slid around to the front of my waist, diving under the waistband and snapping the elastic of my panties against my skin. I made a pathetic noise in response as he continued his journey downward towards where I needed him most. 

A cold wave of rejection hit me as his hand reached my unshaved bush and instantly jerked away. I pulled away from the kiss, fighting the embarrassed whimper that rose in my throat as I went to speak. His chest heaved as he took in deep breaths, leaning back to look at me quizzically. "I'm so sorry, I haven't been with anyone in a while and I wasn't planning on anything like this happening. I usually do shave I swear, I just-" He cut off my nervous ramble by shushing me and bringing his hands up to cradle my face once more. He looked me dead in the eye as he spoke, "I didn't pull away because I was grossed out, I pulled away because it excited me and I didn't want to finish too soon." 

"Oh my god, you're perfect," I breathed out with relief as I leaned back in to kiss him with a renewed passion. We fell back into the same rhythm as before, this time with even more desperation seeping into every movement. As the movie came to an end and the credits rolled to no one, we broke apart once more. He whined as I got up to turn off the tv and I giggled at his neediness. "I'll be back in a second," I teased as he slumped into the couch. Instead of sitting back down with Gerard when I finished turning off the movie, I grabbed his hand and led him to my bedroom. He followed eagerly, trailing behind just enough to get a glimpse of my panties under my now hiked up skirt.

My heart pounded in my ears as I settled myself on my bed, pulling him down to rest atop of me. He leaned down to focus his lips on my neck, simultaneously slotting his knee between my spread legs and applying the perfect amount of pressure. I slid my hands down his back and sides, bunching up the hem of his T-shirt and urging him to remove it. As soon as it was off, he mirrored the move on me, promptly pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside before wrapping his arms around my back to unclasp my bra. 

We both took a moment to admire each other, chests heaving and eyes alight with lust. The vast expanse of his upper half shone bright white under the streetlights that poured through my bedroom window, his pallor looked almost otherworldly beneath the soft glow. His eyes were trained on my chest and I nearly squirmed under the warmth of his gaze.

He leaned back down, refocusing his mouth on my neck as I rutted my hips against his thigh and ran my hands up and down his smooth skin. His hands glided gingerly down my sides and came to rest on my waist, gripping me tightly as he guided my movements against him. A delicious friction built between us while I shamelessly ground myself against him. Once he sufficiently marked up my neck, he ducked his head down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth, I gasped sharply at the surprising wet heat. Emboldened by his forwardness, I snaked my arms between us and began toying with the waistband of his pants. He switched his attention to my other breast, nipping slightly at the tender flesh as I worked open the button and zipper of his jeans.

He pulled away to clumsily shimmy his way out of the last of his clothing before fixating back on me, gently guiding me to raise my hips so he could strip my bottom half. His breath caught in his throat as my naked form laid in front of him on full display, his eyes darted anxiously from my bush to my face as if he suddenly didn't know how to proceed. Unsure of what was going through his head, I broke the tension by sitting up slightly and reaching to slowly stroke his length, looking him in the eye and asking once more, "Is this ok?" He groaned a low, guttural sound of affirmation and kissed me hastily, caging me in with his body as I increased the speed of my strokes. I now noticed that he was unshaven as well, something about that fact made the heat between my legs grow more incessant and I guided him towards the feeling. 

He ran his tip through my folds and I shuddered at the contact. "Christ, you're so wet," he breathed out as he coated his tip with my arousal and pressed it gently against my entrance. He sank himself in slowly, allowing me time to acclimate to the stretch. I let out a pitiful whine as he bottomed out, raising my legs to wrap needily around his waist and trap him in the position. Gerard looked down at me with a glint of humor in his eyes when he spoke next, asking "Is this ok?" I let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "God, yes. Just fuck me already."

That was all the encouragement he needed as he swiftly started to pump into me at a quick pace, each thrust of his hips driving him deeper inside of me. My legs gripped around him tighter as I subconsciously angled my hips upward to allow him even more access. We kissed with a gentle intensity, swallowing the soft sounds coming from both of our mouths. The whole scene felt strangely intimate, as if we had been lovers for years and not strangers that met only a couple of hours beforehand. His hips rolled into mine as he brought his hand between us and started rubbing my clit with scary precision. I moaned into the kiss without breaking contact with his lips, he hummed back a comforting sound as he continued to circle my sensitive bundle of nerves. 

A particularly deep thrust from Gerard caused me to yelp and tangle my fingers in his hair, tugging slightly to gain more purchase. "Just like that, oh my god," he murmured against my lips. I pulled harder, forcing his head back to look at me. He was rapidly unravelling, sweat shone on his forehead and his mouth hung agape as he leaned into the feeling of my fist gripping his hair. His fingers sped up against my clit and I writhed under his touch, my face equally contorted with pleasure. "So fucking beautiful," Gerard whispered and leaned back down to tenderly kiss me. 

My toes curled as I desperately clung to his frame, moaning into his mouth as his fingers continued to circle my clit. I was getting close, every nerve ending on my body was alight as his thrusts got sloppier. I tried and failed to convey with words that I was on the edge of my orgasm, a string of nonsensical sounds left my mouth instead. Despite the unrelenting rhythm of his hips, Gerard's lips remained remarkably gentle, like he was kissing something precious and fragile. He hummed a soft sound of reassurance into the kiss as he felt me approaching my release.

It hit me all at once, I trembled in his grasp as he fucked me through it, my walls contracting greedily around his length. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at the shockwaves of sensitivity that rolled through me. I could tell he wasn't going to last much longer, his thrusts becoming less coordinated and more incessant. I rolled my hips into his and slid my fingers back into his hair, grasping tightly at the base of his neck. That was all it took to push him over the edge, he came with a loud moan, burying himself deep inside of me, my legs locking him in place. I felt him shudder as he pumped the last of his load into my womb.

We laid there connected for a long while, holding onto each other tightly as if this could all disappear in an instant. I felt him soften inside of me and still, we didn't dare to part, my legs wrapped possessively around his waist and his arms cradling my frame. All the while our mouths worked in tandem, refusing to be the first to break the kiss.

I think we might have stayed there forever if not for the unfortunate pull of reality. He broke away reluctantly, still holding me in his embrace. The early morning sun had just barely started to creep through my window, casting a peachy hue on the parking lot outside. "It's getting pretty late, I should go soon," he whispered tentatively. My heart dropped and my grip on him tightened inadvertently when I spoke next "You're not staying?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to," he answered plainly. "You're literally still inside of me. Of course I want you to stay," I retorted, trying to use humor to mask the insecurity that began to rise within me at his offer to leave. He laughed softly and looked down to where we remained connected. "You do have a point there." 

"I seriously do need to pee though, we should probably move," I said, making no effort to break away from him. With an exaggerated sigh, he complied and released me, planting a kiss on my forehead before I could leave the bed. I slunk to my bathroom and took in my reflection in the mirror. I looked rough, my eye makeup had turned into a smeared mess, my hair was pointing in all different directions, and my neck was covered in hickeys. I stood there for a while trying to comprehend how he could have ever thought I was beautiful. I figured he must have just said it in the heat of the moment, that he couldn't have possibly meant it. No matter what state I was in, perfectly sober and put together or picking up the pieces of a drunken night, I never thought I was beautiful. In fact, I knew I wasn't.

I continued to stare at my reflection, the image contorting as my vision went in and out of focus. I worried that I had been too much and made him uncomfortable. I worried that he had actually wanted to leave and was only staying now out of pity. I worried that when I returned to my room, he would be gone without a trace and I would never see him again. I braced myself against the bathroom counter and forced myself to take deep breaths, wash the smudged makeup from my face, and tame my wild hair. I tried desperately to regain some semblance of composure before I walked back out.

I when worked up the courage to return to the room, Gerard was still laying exactly where he had been when I left. My heart fluttered as I settled back into bed; he pulled me back into his embrace and I rested my head on his chest. "Took you long enough," he joked. I huffed in response, "I was trying to make myself look somewhat presentable." Above me, he shook his head, "No need for that, you look beautiful regardless." He threw the word out again flippantly, as if each syllable leaving his mouth didn't send my body into a state of shock. I stayed quiet, unsure of how to proceed. 

As I laid with him in the twilight counting his breaths, I worked up the courage to finally say what had been on my mind all night. Without moving my head up from his chest, too scared to make eye contact, I spoke quietly "I'm sure you do this sort of thing a lot, like after your shows and stuff, but I don't. I don't want to pressure you or anything, but I'd love to see you again some time." I held my breath as he took a beat to process what I was saying.

He sat up slightly and I followed, preparing myself for rejection as I forced myself to look at his face. His nose was scrunched up in confusion, like he was trying to work something out that wasn't computing in his mind. "I don't do this a lot," he finally answered, "I've actually never done this before tonight. Not like, sex, but hooking up with a stranger after a show. Or at all." It was my turn to ponder his response, the narrative I had made up about him in my mind shifting to make room for this new information. He continued while I turned over his words in my head, "I'd also love to see you again." His voice was gentle, a small smile pulled on his lips. I smiled back.