#basement!gerard

basement!gerard who shamelessly stares at you at your job at the only comic book store in town since the first day you started working there

basement!gerard who will stay in the store for hours, refusing to check out until you're not behind the counter anymore because he's scared to talk to you

basement!gerard who rehearses talking to you every night, talking to himself in the mirror and cursing to himself under his breath whenever he messes up, running a hand through his greasy hair

basement!gerard who doesn't know how to react the first time you initiate a conversation with him. "oh! i love that one" you say over his shoulder as you pass behind him carrying a box of comics. his eyes go wide and he just nods quickly, ducking his head before placing it back and leaving the store without a word

basement!gerard who jacks off to you that night, remembering the sound of your voice and imagining you saying all kinds of dirty and depraved things to him while he furiously grips his cock. he cums with your face in his mind, then rolls over and lets the guilt eat him alive until he falls asleep in his own mess

basement!gerard who doesn't come back to the store for weeks after that night, too ashamed to even be in the same room as you

basement!gerard who can't look you in the eye as you serve him at the counter. your colleague was on break and he really needed the new issue of doom patrol

basement!gerard who's hands shake as he hands you the cash. "you've got good taste," you tell him as you hand him his change, and he blushes, thanking you quietly before rushing out

basement!gerard who finally talks to you first, offering a small "hi" as he passes you in the store, then lets you drag him into a conversation about comics. his eyes practically turn into heart shapes as he listens to you talk passionately about your favourite authors, realizing you have a lot in common

basement!gerard who is lost for words when you tell him you'd like to see his collection sometime. "sounds impressive," you tell him, and he just makes a small noise of agreement, thinking about you both in his basement room together and what it could lead to

basement!gerard who tries and fails to avert his eyes during the heat wave when he sees you bent over in shorts stocking shelves, feeling the blood rush to his dick and hiding behind a shelf until it had gone down

basement!gerard who works up the confidence to ask you over to his place to look through his collection, and grins when you agree enthusiastically, asking if you can come over tonight

basement!gerard who actually showers and attempts to clean his room that afternoon, then paces back and forth by the front door until you arrive

basement!gerard who gets hard almost immediately when you lay on your front on his bed in your shorts, flicking through a few comics he'd laid out for you

basement!gerard who can't help but palm himself through his jeans while you have your back to him, and freezes when you turn around and catch him

basement!gerard whose eyes go wide when you crawl off the bed towards him, settling on your knees in front of him and begin to unbuckle his belt

basement!gerard who is so loud and vocal, whimpering and whining as you suck his cock, thrusting into your mouth with his hands tangled into your hair

basement!gerard who constantly apologizes and thanks you while you're on your knees for him. "ah, shit. thank you, oh fuck- you're so- so good at this. thank you, fuck, thank you. i'm- i'm gonna-"

basement!gerard who cums after only a few minutes, a shaking mess as he thrusts into your mouth, cumming into the back of your throat and apologizing constantly, holding you there until he's completely spent

basement!gerard who looks like he's going to cry as soon as he releases you. "i'm sorry, god. so sorry. i didn't mean to-"

basement!gerard who gets embarrassingly hard again as soon as you stand up to push him backwards onto the bed, stripping off your clothes and straddling him

basement!gerard who can't believe his luck when you fuck his brains out, begging you to talk down to him, whimpering underneath you when you do. "god, you're such a pervert. you like it when i fuck myself on you? how many times have you jacked off to me like this? such a desperate little man"

"oh i know... hes like soo totally lame !!" you smacked your gum, glossed lips sticking together with every word. a brainless, cruel smile on your plastered face as you watched yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair before class.

your hair was burnt with the straightener, and jacked to jesus. it was crunchy with hair spray and your cheetah print skirt was short enough to qualify as a belt as you walked out of the bathroom with your friends, still laughing about the loser you ran into earlier. you didnt catch his name, gerald or something? like you cared. he smelled rancid. his hair was wracked with grease, and he was pudgy and pathetic, just an entertainment piece for girls like you.

as you walked out of school, saying goodbye to the last of your gals, you felt a hand on your shoulder, clammy and rough. you turned around quick, your fake eyelashes fluttering dramatically.

"what do you want, freak..?" you spat, drawing back when you took in the sight in front of you, your sneer faltering for a moment when you saw the look on his pale greasy face. he looked like he was murdering you with his mind, or maybe fucking you, hell maybe both. you shuddered at the thought, fixing your hair as you swatted his hand off of you, grimacing. "and why are you blushing..." you half muttered, trailing off as you took in his blotchy cheeks.

"y'know you would be a lot prettier if you weren't such a bitch.." he moved quicky, grabbing your wrist with a bruising grip, and covering your mouth with the other, lip-gloss smearing across his hand and your face, mixing with his hand sweat. he walked you to a nearby alley, his hot pungent breath down your perfumed neck, making your heart spike with fear. "gonna fuck that dumb smile off your pretty little face, slut..." he muttered, like he was talking to himself and you were just a figment of his imagination.

"mphh.. fuckin.. hng.. weirdo.." you frantically yelled against his hand, shaking your head and trying to squirm away from him as he pinned you against the brick, slamming your head back as his sweaty anxious hand reached for your skimpy top, ripping at the seams as he yanked it down to expose your heaving chest, making quick work of your hot pink push-up bra too, his breathing now ragged like an animals. he didnt speak, just laughed, shit-eating and horny. you could feel him humping at your spray tanned thigh, already hard in his stained sweatpants. he was very clearly nervous too, probably a virgin, fueled by his sexual frustration.

"hng.. yeah..? imma weirdo..?" he practically whimpered, getting off on your insults like a sick little bastard. he groaned, grabbing the flesh of your hip with one hand, the other still covering your mouth as you started to feel lightheaded. he pushed up your mini-skirt, eyeing you like a piece of meat. "fuckk.. think you can just.. dress like a whore.. dumb fuckin bimbo.." he sputtered, ripping at your matching pink panties, and then his dirty sweatpants, his hands uncoordinated and getting messier.

"im.. n..notta bimbo.." you whined, muffled against his hand and sounding impossibly dumb. exactly what a bimbo would say. he knew it too, barking out a mocking chuckle, and finally getting your panties down and his cock out, stroking himself sloppily, hissing softly. your chest pounded, your face contorted with fear and your makeup running as sweat and tears mixed on your pretty face. you started to beg, the only thing you could do. but it only provoked him further, his panting hot and desperate on your face as he lined himself up with your tight, dry cunt.

"scream.." he grinned, and slammed into you in one shattering thrust, throwing his head back, his sweaty black t-shirt riding up to expose some of his pale chubby flesh. he held tight to your waist, leaning into your neck, nuzzling you almost tenderly, a major contridiction. that of a lonely, sad, virgin. "mphh.. love it when you scream..." he panted, whining and groaning, his thrusts inexperienced and animalistic.

"haahh.. n..no.. i.. shitt.. i hate you.. hate yo.." he cut off your muffled protests by replacing his hand with his lips, practically eating your face off, his unwashed mouth colliding with yours, glitter transfering to his cracked lips. you tried not to breathe through your mouth, his breath making you wanna vomit. and it was a good thing you didnt, because he would have probably taken you home with him.

"mm.. gonna.. gonna cum in this slutty little cunt.. mmkay..?" he grunted, his hips stuttering, asking even though your answer never mattered. "bitch like you is definitely on birth control.. hmph.." he laughed breathlessly, pumping a few more times before his hot sticky cum spilled into your clenching heat.

gerard sits on the edge of his bed, using his forearms to support his upper body, his whimpers and whines echo throughout the basement. your lips leave his shaft with a smack, and you place both your hands on his shaft and move it up and down, starting slow and gentle then quickly picking up the speed. his breathing got more erratic, you assume he's about to cum by the way he's holding onto the bedsheets tightly and getting more vocal. your tongue meets his tip again, swirling around it. he lets out a moan before pissing himself on your mouth.

you suddenly stop, unable to pull away from shock or whatever. when you pull away a little and before you can say anything, he unleashes his load. his cum covers your lips and cheeks. you keep your eyes closed for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. you can hear gerard mumbling something. grabbing a discarded piece of cloth, you wipe his cum off.

"what was that...?" you ask, still on your knees in front of him. he turns redder than he already was, scratching the back of his head thinking of an excuse. he stutters for a while.

"i-it's not what you think..."

Offering you his arm, he walked you to the car and held the door open for you, before quickly jumping in on the other side behind the wheel.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said, when he turned into the next street, “I really didn’t want to be the only one without a date, again.”

“It’s fine, anytime,” you shrugged.

Gerard had called you a week ago, asking if you were okay with being his date for his aunt’s birthday. The way he had phrased it had not made it clear if this was a real date, or just a fake. Since you were not dating, you assumed the latter. Not that you would have minded if it had been a real date. On the contrary.

The rest of the drive went by fast. You talked a little, about the usual stuff, music, friends, family, and listened to the radio.

The party was at a fancy restaurant with a huge garden. If you had worried about being overdressed earlier, these worries now were gone. Wearing your suit, you were pretty much the golden middle between all the other outfits the guests were wearing. Gerard had offered you his arm again, and guided you inside, where Mikey was the first one to spot you.

“Gee, (y/n), hey,” he laughed and came over, “you look great together.”

“I should hope so,” Gerard laughed, and quickly sent a glance to you, checking if you were okay with his statement.

“You don’t look to bad yourself, Mr. Way,” you laughed, and let go of Gerard’s arm to adjust Mikey’s bow tie.

“(Y/n), Gerard, you’re here,” Mrs. Way greeted, and politely you shook her and her husband’s hands.

You had met Gerard’s parents only twice before, and were not entirely sure if they knew you and Gerard were not together, but you did not bother to correct them, when they encouraged you to go over to the photographer who was currently taking pictures of all the couples.

Gerard did not seem to be bother either, because he just took your hand, and led you over to where his mother had pointed you.

On the way there you met Mikey’s girlfriend Kristin, who you knew from all the D&D evenings which the brothers loved hosting, and halfway to the photographer, you even found his aunt whose birthday it was.

After congratulating her, and Gerard handing her a box of chocolates he had been hiding in his jacket, she started asking about you.

“This is (y/n), we met in one of our college classes,” Gerard explained. He seemed to be ready to elaborate on it, but his aunt spotted someone else across the room.

“Ah, college, a wonderful place to fall in love. Good to meet you (y/n),” she mumbled, and left you standing.

“Okay-“ you laughed, and Gerard shook his head.

“She’s always like that. Her thoughts are never in one place for too long,” he grinned, “Shall we take that picture?”

The photographer had arranged a couple of flower as the background in front of a huge curtain, and patiently gave advice to the people he was taking pictures of.

“Stand a little closer,” he suggested, waving Gerard to step closer to you, “come on, you two, don’t be so shy!”

You tried to ignore the hammering heart in your chest, and moved your weight from one foot to the other, so you were leaning closer to Gerard. From this close up you could smell his deodorant. You flinched in surprise as you felt him place his hand on your waist, and pulled you a little into him. With big eyes you looked up to him, but he just focused on the camera, and smiled gently.

“Wonderful, perfect, that’s it,” the photographer cheered, “you’re done. You can pick up your pictures later. Next!”

Quickly Gerard and you stepped aside, making space for the next couple.

“Should we- should we go into the garden?” Gerard’s cheeks were dusted over pink, making you wonder if he had been as nervous about getting these pictures taken as you had been.

“Sure, let’s catch some fresh air,” you agreed, and side by side you stepped onto a huge terrace. The garden was truly gigantic. A huge field of flowers spread out before you, and in the distance huge trees reached up into the sky. Small tables with chairs were spread out across the lawn. Standing close to some rose bushes were Mikey and Kristin. They had stuck their heads together and were giggling, but when Kristin saw you, she pointed over to you, and the two met you halfway to them.

“Got the picture taken,” Mikey asked, and you could not help but wonder what he was up to. Judging by his wide grin? Something evil.

“Yeah, we- we did,” Gerard nodded.

“I really have to say, you two look so happy together,” Kristin smiled, “I mean, I knew you liked each other, but…”

“It’s good to see you finally had the courage to ask (y/n) out,” Mikey completed Kristin’s sentence, and playfully hit Gerard’s shoulder.

“We-“

“I know, I know,” Kristin interrupted you, “you’re not supposed to say that to people, but you two just have such wonderful energy together. And Mikey told me how much Gee loves you.”

“I-“

“I’m glad you’re happy now, dude, you really deserve this,” Mikey grinned even wider at interrupting Gerard, “come on babe, I think it’s almost time for the first course.”

And with that he took his girlfriend’s hand, and they quickly walked away, leaving Gerard and you in stunned silence.

“What just happened,” you asked weakly.

“I never- I never told Mikey how much I love you,” Gerard protested, “I-“ Helplessly he turned to you. “I don’t- he made that up- I-“

You did not know what it was but somehow Gerard had managed to completely ruin your day with these couple of stammered words. What had you been thinking anyway? That this was some stupid rom-com where you pretended to be his date and in the end he would admit to actually having been in love with you the whole time? Just because you wanted it to be that way did not mean it was that way. Trying to will the stinging in your eyes away, you swallowed hard.

“I think Mikey said food’s gonna be served soon,” you managed to choke out, and turned to walk away.

“Hey, (y/n), no, wait, that wasn’t- that’s not- shit!”

Quickly he grabbed your wrist, and turned you back around to him.

“Shit, I messed up, okay, whatever, fuck this,” Gerard mumbled more to himself than to you. Looking up into your eyes, he bit his lip, “I never did tell Mikey how much I love you, he made that part up, but-“

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “You needed someone so accompany you, so your family doesn’t bug you about why you don’t got a date. It’s fine.” Damn it, how was your voice so steady and calm when all you wanted to do was cry and run away. Maybe you should try to get into voice acting instead of animation at art school?

“Let me finish please,” Gerard asked, trying to catch your eyes, but you avoided looking at him, scared you could not hold back the tears. “The point is that I do love you, or at least am totally in love with you, have been since basically the first time you set down next to me in class. That’s why I asked you to come today, I thought maybe I could ask you to be my real date and not just some pretend date, but it turns out I’m far too much of a coward to do that. But I do love you, and I want you to be my real date for this, but I didn’t tell Mikey. And now I probably messed up our friendship.”

He let go of your wrist, and stepped back. He looked sad and lost and scared, but there was a confidence in his eyes you had not expected. You knew that he meant every word he had told you, and if you would ask him now if he meant it, he would probably laugh in despair, throw his head back and exclaim that indeed he did. So you did not ask, and instead took the step towards him which he had taken away from you.

“Yeah,” you whispered, gently taking his hands in yours, “you totally messed up our friendship.”

You waited for Gerard to look into your eyes in confusion before you closed the small gap between you, and pressed your lips against his. You could feel him tense up for a second, before he under stood. His skin was cool from the spring air, and his lips still quivered slightly as he let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, while kissing you sweetly.

“Hey, stop making out, the first course is on,” Mikey shouted from the terrace, surprising both you and Gerard.

“Shut up,” Gerard shouted back to his brother, who ran bent over laughing, and walked back inside.

Questioningly you looked up at Gerard.

“Where does that leave us,” you wondered, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Everyone in there already thinks we’re dating…”

“And I return your feelings,” you added, “just so that that’s clear.”

Gerard giggled quietly.

“Well, in that case I think I’d really like you to be my official not-fake date for the rest of the day,” he announced, “and even longer, if you want that.”

“I’d love that,” you agreed.

“Now that that’s cleared up, I think we definitely should see what kind of fancy food we can get in there,” Gerard laughed.

“We’re college students! We eat whatever free food we can get!”

Together you walked back to the terrace, but just before walking in, Gerard stopped you.

“Were Mikey and Kristin planning this?”

You thought back to how they had giggled when Gerard and you had stepped into the garden, and glanced over at them, sitting at the table, watching you two closely.

“Definitely,” you decided.

“Damn it, I owe them!”

“So do I, don’t worry,” you patted Gerard’s back, and together you walked over to your seats next to Mikey and Kristin, who were already grinning far too brightly.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns  @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240 @starduststyx

“What? Why?” You hear fabric rustle, he must be sitting up in bed.

“I,” You pause, the anger draining from your body and suddenly being replaced with exhaustion and the need to be close to your boyfriend and be held and understood. “I needed to see you.” The words come out wet and you struggle not to cry.

“I’ll be right up.” His voice sounds soft before he hangs up and you stand in the dark feeling exposed and tired.

The door opens and you push yourself into Gerard’s arms, breathing in the sleepy scent of your boyfriend and holding his hoodie clad body close. He’s warm and soft and he holds you tight, hands rubbing your back and he whispers in your ear that he loves you. You don’t cry but your throat feels tight as you think about your parents and that house, the suffocation of closed mindedness and disinterest lingers. You take deep, shaky, breathes, and begin to calm down. Gerard pulls away but keeps his hands on you, looking you in the eyes and smiling gently.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” He leads you into his house and into his room where it’s dark and warm, a salt lamp on the desk the only light in the room. He makes himself busy as you kick off your shoes and jeans before crawling into bed. The blankets are heavy and smelling of Gerard, the most comforting smell you’ve ever found. You feel tired and achy, and really really lonely, the kind of loneliness that comes from being shoved aside again and again, the kind of loneliness that never really goes away because the thing that made you lonely will never go away. You feel suffocated by the idea that hate will win, that too many people just don’t care and don’t have the desire to try and see what is right in front of their faces. Pain, so much pain, everywhere.

Gerard climbs into bed behind you and pulls you into his chest, tight and safe. You feel the ache in your chest lessen and it lessens even more when Gerard nuzzles your neck and kisses your skin, soft and loving.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly and you shake your head, hair rustling against the pillows.

“I just,” You sigh and turn over in his arms, finding his soft hazel eyes and knowing he’s there for you. “I’m tired of fighting with people who are determined to not understand me, to not listen, to not fucking care.” Anger bubbles as your sentence ends, muscles tense and Gerard runs his hands down your arms soothingly.

“I know, it’s frustrating. I’m sorry, but you won’t be in that house forever and you will always have people in your life who do understand you, who do care about you and want to listen to you.” He sounds tired but sure of himself and your chest hurts.

“I love you.” It’s all you can say, feeling drained and beaten down, you bury your face in his neck and he holds you close.

this was a good idea. you told yourself again, this was a great idea. as you stood at gerards door after following him home. what, he thought he could just cum inside of you and leave you like that? no fucking way.

you didnt like him. you didnt want him. this was just what needed to happen. this would help you sleep at night. you knocked at the door, loud and bold. still dressed in your usual glam but something was missing. something was broken. your makeup didnt look right no matter how many times you re-applied it, and your clothes felt like duct tape, and all you could think about was this goddamn loser. he would pay for this, just like you had been for the past few weeks.

when he answered the door, he looked suprised, then nervous, before plastering on a cocky defensive grin. "come back for more.. slut?" he mocked, leaning in closer, in his gross star wars pyjamas, and a t-shirt that surely doubled as a cum rag for him. you pounced instantly, your knee coming up to connect with his soft cock, with a concerning thud. he doubled over, grunting and whining like a bitch.

"you.. you're a worthless fucking mutt.." you sneered, full of hate, a dark thrill running through you as you watched him grabbing at his junk in pain. but you weren't like him... this was just his karma, you promised yourself, trying to ease the thudding under your frilly top. you got him down on the floor, your shiny mary jane shoe grinding between his legs while you slung insults and curses at him, your breathing frantic.

"p..please.. ung.. fuck im sorry.. s-sorry ok..?!" he pleaded, starting to cry as your shoe ground horrifically against his dick through the thin fabric. he gasped and grabbed at himself, at his splotchy chubby face, starting to sweat. you just laughed, the true face of irony, as you drank in his misery, just like he had savored yours.

"thats real fuckin cute gerard.. are you gonna take care of your little baby..?" you cooed with a sick smile, leaning down to yank a fistful of his greasy black hair in your hand, your janky fake nails scratching his scalp. you sneered in his face and rubbed at your tummy, fluttering your eyelashes, trying not to laugh in his face when you saw his eyes and the cogs turning in his head.

"b-baby..? you mean.. hng.. i really.. knocked you up..?" he gasped for air, his chest heaving as he looked up at you, shocked and scared. you could see the way he was about to beg you for forgiveness, to swear he would be the best dad he could, and for a moment it hurt somewhere deep in your heart.

but you couldn't feel bad, not for him. you laughed, cutting through the silence and causing his face to draw up with confusion. yanking his head back further, you landed a sick blow to his lower pudge. "im not pregnant, you fuckin idiot.. just wanted to see your stupid face.." you snarled, petting his hair as he held onto his torso, choking and drooling. but one little detail didnt go unnoticed by you. he was hard. painfully hard. just from your abuse and insults. god what was this guys issue...

your cute panties hit the floor quietly, and you snapped your fingers in his face like a dog. "get to it." you commanded, your hand fisted in his hair, as you stood over him, one shoe still on his cock, grinding and pressing. pressing harder to hear him whine when you wanted, playing him like an instrument. he lunged, shoving his face in your pussy with zero hesitation, like he was starved. you chewed on your pink glossy lips, not wanting to let him hear your pleasure, pressing harder on his erection, and feeling his whimpering vibrating against your cunt.

"mphh.. p..please.. it hurts.." he whined, muffled as he lapped at your clit. it only pissed you off, your hand tearing out more of his hair as you ground against his face. you had to cum, then you would be even. then everything would be okay again, and you could go back to your dumb, carefree life. could spend your time thinking about makeup and shoes and shopping, instead of the way you felt slumped against the brick that day. used up and broken.