just call me kiki!

Welcome to my Page!

|| mostly NSFW content

|| semi - hiatus ?

|| requests : closed!

|| waycest creepazoids dni

|| i don’t write full fics :(

|| i only write short and sweet blurbs

|| only write afab anatomy!

masterlist :

my chemical romance

gerard way

inok! gee x popular gf

inok! gee spoiling his gf

office au - boss! way fingering her assistant

letting inok! gee fuck your thighs

mad scientist! gee

warm night with inok! gee and his popular! gf

inok! gee sniffing his gf’s panties

basement gee taking care of sick reader

frank iero

looking for kiss-proof lipstick

revenge! frank using your sex toys on you

wlw! frankie w a breeding kink

office au - janitor! frankie eating you out

ray toro

fucking his chubby gf

office au - costumer service rayna fingering you

mikey way

overstim w revenge! mikey

perv inok! mikey

ghost of you! mikey way x nurse reader

etc.

HABIT putting reader in a headlock during doggy

he hit me & it felt like a kiss - HABIT x reader

camping with dad! Evan Myers

anons : 🦌 , 🎱

tags ;

opening your letters ; inbox responses

fragile fantasies ; my blurbs

fragile thoughts ; random thoughts/will prob be deleted

fragile [emoji] ; anons

This will probably be very short and lazy but I thought it’d be fun to share how I imagine some of the boys looking! Please feel free to share what other characters you’d like me to add later with some suggestions!

Starting off with..

-

Jeffrey Woods !

Tbh I’m a HUGE Owen Teague fan and I’m a sucker for Patrick Hockstetter. He’s such a creep and just so happens to sort of match Jeff’s descriptions/vibe? Do I really have to explain?

-

Toby Rogers !

Now, I see a lot of people saying Evan Peters to be a great face claim for Toby— And I agree, definitely!! Those eyes?? The messy hair?? Chef’s kiss. But may I also suggest.. Kyle Gallner? But honestly, I think either work..

-

Helen Otis !

I absolutely do NOT support Ezra Miller’s actions but.. His face card is just too lethal to ignore.. So please don’t burn me on a stake when I say I absolutely see Helen looking like this.

-

Ben Drowned !

fragilefangz -> habitslittlerabbit

If you had told yourself a few years ago that you’d be sitting in a beat-up truck with two kids in the backseat and another bun in the oven, you would have laughed right in your own face. You probably would've thrown in your usual sassy, ‘Yeah, right. I’m never having kids.’

But that was before you met Evan.

“Alright, you know the drill,” Evan said, shifting the truck into park as they arrived at their usual lakeside camping spot. He turned around in his seat, pointing a playful, warning finger at the back. “No s’mores unless you actually help set up. Got it?”

He tried to sound tough, but everyone in that truck knew he’d inevitably give in to their puppy-dog eyes and feed them all the sugar they wanted. Those girls were his ultimate weakness.

Maggie, their oldest at ten, already had a bit of a "know-it-all" attitude, though she was still the biggest daddy’s girl on the planet. She crossed her arms, a cheeky little grin on her lips. “Dad, I always help. It's Beth you have to worry about.”

“Hey!” Your six-year-old Beth protested, kicking her legs. Beth was a chaotic force of nature, inheriting every bit of Evan's adventurous, reckless spirit. “I’m the bestest best helper!”

“Okay, okay..” Evan laughed, trying to keep the conversation from turning into a bickering match. He swung his door open and gave a quick ‘Let’s get to work!’ to get the girls’ attention.

As soon as the doors flew open, their routine commenced. Evan got straight to work, offloading the heavy grill, the foldable chairs and a few bags of supplies before he began pitching the tent all while Maggie and Beth dashed off toward the tree line, giggling as they began hunting for the perfect sticks for their bonfire later that night.

You claimed one of the foldable camping chairs, resting a hand over your growing baby bump. A gentle breeze carried the scent of pine cones and crisp lake water. Watching Evan wrestle with the tent poles while the girls argued over who found the bigger stick, you couldn't help but sigh in pure awe.

Evan caught you looking and paused, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You doing okay over there, mama? Not too hot?”

“Perfect,” you smiled, leaning back. “Just enjoying the show. You’re doing great, babe.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” he teased before hammering a tent stake into the ground.

-

By the time the sun began to dip below the tree line, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and purple, the campsite was fully transformed. The tent was pitched up with all four sleeping bags were unrolled inside, and Evan had successfully coaxed a brilliant, crackling fire to life in the stone pit. The air grew chilly, prompting everyone to bundle up in oversized hoodies and spare blankets.

Evan collapsed into the lawn chair next to you, letting out a long sigh as he stretched his legs toward the fire. “Man. I forgot how much I love it out here.” He grunted, earning a sound of agreement as you shifted closer, to which he immediately put a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. His thumb rubbed soothing circles against your arm while his other hand carefully rubbed your baby bump.

“Look, Dad! I got the perfect one!” Beth squealed, running up to the fire with a stick that was practically twice her size and so thin it looked more like a dry noodle with a pointy end. “Whoa, killer, careful,” Evan chuckled, catching the end of the stick before it poked him in the shin. “That’s a serious weapon, sweetheart.” He snickered.

Maggie marched over, holding a perfectly straight stick with the right amount of thickness (to her standards at least) “it doesn’t matter how long it is, Beth. They have to be strong enough to hold the mallow! Yours is gonna snap and drop your marshmallow in the dirt.”

“Will not!”

“Will too.”

“Alright, alright, break it up, girls,” you chimed in, laughing. “Bring over the graham crackers and let’s test the theories, hm?.”

-

For the next hour, the campsite was filled with giggly, chaotic bliss of marshmallow roasting around their cozy bonfire. Beth, true to Maggie's prediction, immediately caught her marshmallow on fire, panicked, waved it around in hopes of putting it out, and dropped it into the ashes. She looked like she was about to burst into tears until Evan seamlessly swapped his perfectly golden-brown marshmallow onto her graham cracker.

“We’ll try another stick tomorrow, hm?” Evan smiled, bopping her nose. “Thanks, Daddy,” Beth mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate and a few cheeky giggles.

-

As the night deepened, their sugar rush faded into cozy, quiet exhaustion. The stars crept out, reflecting perfectly on the still surface of the lake. Maggie was curled up on a blanket near Evan’s feet, leaning her head against his knee, while Beth had climbed into your lap, her heavy eyelids fluttering closed against your chest.

Evan looked down at Beth, then over to you, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the dying embers. He reached out, gently placing his hand over yours, which was still resting on your belly.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a tender murmur so he wouldn't wake the girls. “What are you thinking about?”

You looked at him, then down at the two beautiful, messy girls you’d made together, and finally at the little life kicking softly against your palm.

“Just thinking about having our other little angel here with us,” you whispered, a soft, smile playing at your lips as you gently rubbed up and down her bump. “Watching our last little angel grow up with the girls.”

Evan’s smile softened, his eyes full of a quiet, fierce affection. He leaned over, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. “I mean..” he whispered back, giving a knowing look while wiggling his brows. “Doesn’t have to be the last?”

“Evan.”

Evan / HABIT p links

𐙚 | this post is just straight porn!!

| you have to be signed in on twt for these to work.

𐙚 | tw. domestic violence

you weren’t quite sure how you’d got here, face down and ass up with habit drilling you into your mattress. your senses were overwhelmed by him; his touch, his smell and the way he huffed and growled with every rough piston of his hips.

“this tight little cunt. just perfect for me, isn’t it?” he grunted, landing a harsh smack on your ass when you didn’t respond fast enough. you couldn’t, not with your face stuffed in the pillows and his tip brushing your cervix so deliciously.. he was totally wrecking you.

he hooked his arm around your neck and pulled you up roughly. your cheeks smooshed against his bicep and your back arching just right. he never stopped his thrusts, tilting his head to the side to catch a glimpse of your damp cheeks and swollen lips. “got you all fucked dumb.. c’mon, beg for my load.” he demanded as he tightened his grip around your neck.

“beg. for. it.” he accentuated every word with a rough and deep thrust which only made you cry out louder. finally snapping yourself back into reality you clumsily blurted; “cum in me!— fuck, please!. i want it inside!.” you begged, tumbling over your own words but desperately craving release.

you’d been feeling a bit under the weather lately, having caught the nasty cold virus that had been making the rounds at your school/work. of course, your boyfriend wasn’t about to let you suffer on your own. the second he heard you cough and the way your voice rasped due to the congestion, he insisted you stay at his place so he could take care of you, offering a movie marathon filled with all your favorites. he’d even gone as far as asking his mom for a soup recipe just to help soothe your raw throat.

after hours of careful preparation, he finally had you cocooned in a massive bundle of blankets right in the middle of his bed. your favorite movie was already playing on the television, and the room was dark, just the television and a lamp on his bedside table with a yellow tint, creating the perfect cozy cave for you to relax in. “ahh, open up, sugar,” gerard smiled softly down at you, holding the warm bowl in his lap as he fed you. “just one more spoonful…” he cooed, waiting patiently for you to take it before setting the empty bowl aside on the nightstand. “..and you’re done! alright.. let’s get you your medicine?” he leaned down to plant a sweet, comforting kiss on your lips, but you quickly turned your head away with a soft huff. glaring up at him with as much stern energy as your body could muster, you mumbled, “don’t. you’ll get sick too.”

gerard looked personally offended by the rejection, letting out a dramatic scoff before gently cupping your flushed face in his hands. “really? you think just a teeny kiss could get me sick?” he challenged, a fond smirk playing on his lips as he began peppering a dozen tiny kisses all over your cheeks, nose, and forehead just to prove you wrong.

once he was satisfied with smothering you (which wasn’t until he left you reduced to a giggling mess) his playful demeanor softened back into ”caretaker mode”, carefully measuring out the dose and holding it to your lips with a encouraging murmur. after you swallowed the bitter liquid, he immediately held up a water bottle for you to take a sip of water to wash it down, using his thumb to gently wipe away a stray drop from the corner of your mouth before planting another kiss to your forehead.

he eventually got himself settled onto the mattress right beside you in your little blanket cocoon, wrapping am arm over your midriff and pulling your back against his chest. he began running his fingers through your hair in slow, soothing strokes, humming softly against the crown of your head “sleep, sugar.. i’ll be right here when you wake up.”

please please please let us see that pathetic wet towel(affectionately) lose his virginity I need that more than air <3 thank you, love your work.

i swear i’m writing inok! gee n his gf having proper sex.. i just luv to edge you guys :p

it was right after school on a friday. sure, you were using gerard for money and academics, but you had to feed into this little “relationship” to keep the perks coming. which is why he was currently in your bedroom, sitting awkwardly at the edge of your bed while you showered. you were fresh off the field from cheerleading practice, and there was no way you were going to lounge around musky and sweaty.

his eyes darted nervously around your room, scanning the posters, the trinkets on your shelves, and the vanity cluttered with expensive lotions and serums—most of which he’d paid for. then, his gaze snagged on the laundry basket. right on top lay your discarded gym clothes and the panties you’d just stepped out of.

he stared at the lace, glaring as if he were trying to fight an invisible force— to fight the temptation of taking a bite of a forbidden fruit. but the temptation was a physical weight, pulling him off the bed. he reached out, hook-fingered and trembling, picking up the small scrap of fabric as if it were something fragile, something precious. (which to him? it was.)

without a second thought, he brought them to his face. the scent of your sweat mixed with the musk of your body was a sinful combination. a pathetic, needy whine caught in his throat as he pressed the fabric against his nose, inhaling deeply while his free hand instinctively palmed the growing ache in his jeans. his head swarmed with guilt, but his body didn't care. this was fine, right? you were his girlfriend. he’d been inside you a few times.. he was allowed to be this obsessed with you.

it was hot. like, frustratingly hot. you had finally given in to sleeping over at his place, a choice you were currently regretting. his bedroom was so humid it was borderline aggravating. his parents had an odd, strict “don’t touch the thermostat” rule, which was exactly why the air felt like a thick, suffocating blanket. gerard still tried his best to make up for it, setting his fan to a standstill so the breeze hit you and only you—he couldn't have his sweet angel overheating, after all.

-🐈‍⬛

it was all a blur—the panic of soldiers and nurses running back and forth through the medical tents. doctors yelled out demands, blood dripped onto the muddy ground, and young men were hauled in and out. it was overwhelming. it wasn’t until you were dragged toward a cot that your vision finally focused, landing on the pale, frail soldier lying before you.

the next few hours felt like decades. the meticulous stitching, scrubbing of wounds, and the agonizing grunts of pain echoing from the surrounding cots blurred into one long nightmare.

it took time, but the color slowly returned to mikey’s cheeks, and the hollow look in his eyes began to soften. over the next few months, his slow recovery progressed. what started as faltering, painful first steps outside the tent eventually turned into long afternoons spent sitting together, sharing hushed stories of home to drown out the distant, rumbling thunder of artillery.

like now; you were standing by his cot, rewrapping his bandages with practiced care when he suddenly blurted, “you never mentioned having a man.” you only hummed in acknowledgment, keeping your focus on your hands as you worked.

“how about you let me take you out?”

now that caught your attention. you let out a small huff through your nose—an amused scoff—as you stood up to put the roll of gauze away. “before you say no, i’ll have you know my intentions are completely pure,” he teased, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “well... mostly.” you looked over your shoulder, shaking your head in amusement. “alright, soldier. let’s worry about getting you better first, and then we’ll discuss dates. deal?” you offered him a small, rare smile, to which he eagerly nodded.

Gerard craved a companion — someone who could understand him. He knew he had Mikey, sure, and even his friends Ray, and Frank.. But they didn’t understand him the way he wanted them to. He wanted someone to understand every bit of him, someone who belonged to him. No friend fit that mould, so he turned to a darker solution. Life would have to be engineered, and Gerard knew enough science to try.

For months he scavenged parts, assembling them with a surgeon’s patience. Some pieces were stapled, some stitched, until, slowly, a single form stitched itself together under his hands. Nights blurred into long sessions of sewing and suturing, careful not to damage the fragile tissue . Your skin was pale, cold to the touch, but to him you were beautiful, you were his.

He dressed you in borrowed clothes and laid you on the metal table. It was storming the night you came alive: lightning booming through the sky and rain tapping against the roof. An old rod wired to his machine served as a conductor and when the bolt struck, it would course through the contraption and—he hoped—through you.

After waiting for what felt like ages lighting flashed; electricity flowed through the rod and down your patched form. Limbs shuddered as current ran through stitched joints. Gerard watched from behind the control panel, partly hidden, heart hammering.

Sparks sprayed and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. He remained still, eyes fixed on you. Then he saw it: the smallest rise of your chest, a faint twitch at your fingers, stitches pulling taut as muscle flexed and your fist clenched. He felt a grin form on his face, speechless at his own creation of life.