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partypoisonzz · 2 years

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we could live forever (if you've got the time) (jet star x reader smut)

Kinktober Day 5: Morning Sex/Comfort Sex

Reader Pronouns: None mentioned but reader has AFAB anatomy

Content:

- Injury recovery/patching up

- Riding

- Sub!Jet

- It's weirdly fluffy, for what it is

Word Count: 2,624

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

The first rays of sunlight creep through the cracks in the blinds, creating vague spots of gold on the tile floor. As the morning light dimly illuminates the room, you take note of Jet's face.

You see a myriad of feelings in his darkly-shadowed eyes, all hiding behind a guise of deep concentration.

Exhaustion. Worry. Love.

You shift slightly against his hold. His hand wraps tighter around your wrist, keeping you in place.

"Don't move it." His voice is gentle, despite the authority that the words are supposed to hold. "I think that I've got it more or less sterilized. Let me bandage it, please."

You go still, allowing him to wrap the medical tape around the wound at the top of your shoulder. The pinching of the tape against the already-painful area causes you to stiffen, though you force yourself to relax your muscles. You don't want to make this any harder on Jet.

By the looks of it, he's already struggling quite a bit.

Finally, he stops pulling on the tape. With a sigh, he sits back, wrapping his arms around himself. "Think that's the best I can do."

You look down at your newly bandaged arm. You move your fingers experimentally. Aside from the expected stiffness and the nagging ache, it isn't so bad. Thankfully, it isn't even your dominant arm.

"You did a great job." You turn back towards him, offering a shaky smile. "Thank you."

Jet doesn't say anything. He doesn't even smile back. He simply nods at you.

You frown, looking down at the floor. Your body begs you to lie down and sleep the newly-dawning day away, but you know that isn't an option. Your arm still stings as though the ray has just brushed it.

It hums, you think. Like the feeling of music, pouring through a speaker and through your body.

You think of the Mad Gear and Missile Kid concert that you attended a few weeks ago. The music seemed to become a part of you, coursing through your veins just as your blood did. You felt electric, every part of you buzzing and alive.

It was that feeling that inspired you to rush the stage and take a leap of faith back into the crowd. You allowed the sea of ragtag 'Joys to carry you from the front of the room to the back. Your journey finally stopped when you felt strong arms wrapping around your waist and lowering you to the ground again, a familiar voice pleading over the music for you to be a little more careful, please.

You rolled your eyes, shouting that you were just fine, Jet.

Without him saying a word, you can tell that Jet is worried sick right now. Deep down, you know that's not all there is to it. The wound isn't all that bad, really. As a medic, he surely knows this.

Still, you intend to remind him. "Hey."

He lifts his head, giving you a silent, questioning look.

You reach across the space between you with your good arm, holding your hand out to him. Without question, he threads his fingers through yours.

Your shaky smile returns. "I'm gonna be okay, alright?" You run your thumb over his in an attempt at reassurance. "Hell, I could probably go out shooting this afternoon, if you wanted me to..."

Jet shakes his head. "You won't," he insists. "You've gotta rest a bit. Nothing worse than irritating a fresh wound."

You huff out a halfhearted chuckle. "Alright. If you insist."

More than anything, you hope he'll at least try to smile at you, even if he doesn't really mean it. He doesn't even attempt it, his gaze travelling back to the sun-dappled kitchen floor.

You frown. It's starting to look like you're going to have to ask.

"Jet."

He still doesn't look at you. "Hmm?"

"What's eating you?"

"What's eating me?" He lets out a clipped chuckle. "I was up all night, tending to your wound."

A flash of irritation travels through you. You know it probably isn't rational, but hey, you're exhausted. Staunching the bleeding from a fresh raygun wound isn't exactly your idea of a party, either. "Yeah, well..." You attempt to shrug, thinking better of it when you feel that buzzing pain shooting through your nerve endings. "Might be inconvenient, but it kinda comes with the territory of being a medic, doesn't it?"

His face softens, if only slightly. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"What did you mean, then?"

Jet sighs, pulling his hand away from yours. Irritated as you may be, you can't help but mourn the loss of contact.

"I feel like I failed you," he admits quietly.

You blink. "Failed me?" you echo incredulously. "What are you talking about? You saved my ass."

He shakes his head. "Wouldn't have been anything to save you from if I had been looking out for you in the first place," he says. "I'm the reason you got shot. I owe it to you to patch you up."

"I'm the reason I got shot, Jet," you tell him. That's the truth. "It was a miscalculation on my part. Wrong place, wrong time."

"I saw them coming," Jet continues. "I should have warned you, but then that one got ahold of Kobra, and I..."

"Saved his life," you finish. "And I'm glad that you did. I'd rather have a fucked-up arm than a dead 'Joy on our hands. Plus, if anything happened to their baby brother, Poison just might kill us all."

Jet cringes. "Don't even wanna think about that."

"Exactly." You reach for his hand again. Without hesitating, he takes it.

"Don't beat yourself up," you tell him. "You don't have to protect me all the time. The others need you, too, you know." You move your bad arm again. "Besides, it's nowhere near as bad as it could have been. I got lucky. It barely grazed me."

He gives you a skeptical look. "You were bleeding like it was more than a graze."

"Yeah, but I've got plenty of blood." You laugh. "What difference does losing a little bit make?"

"I don't think that's how it works..."

"Course it is."

"Okay, sure." Finally, he smiles at you. A real, genuine smile that leaves your heart fluttering in your chest.

Through the quiet of the kitchen, he meets your eyes and makes a confession. "I'm just glad that you're okay," he murmurs. "I couldn't stand to lose you."

Your chest tightens. You squeeze his hand. "You aren't going to lose me." You say it decisively, like there's no question in it whatsoever. Even though the world has long since gone to hell, you refuse to believe that such a statement may not be true.

"It's going to be you and me, Jet," you promise him. "Forever."

Despite the exhaustion and worry that seem to have become him, his face lights up. "That sounds pretty damn good to me."

You chuckle, leaning in closer to him.

As soon as his lips meet yours, you feel your tension beginning to melt away, as if this was what you needed all along. The humming pain in your arm fades into the background as you kiss him. Once of his hands wrap around your waist, causing you to sigh into his mouth.

After everything that you went through the day before, kissing Jet as the sun rises feels like sweet relief. A promise that everything just might be okay, after all. Reassurance that you've made it to see another day. Together.

Jet pulls back in surprise as you straddle his lap. "What are you—"

"Shh." You press a kiss against his stubbled jaw, running a hand over his chest before your lips trail down his neck.

"It's still early," you mutter against his skin after a series of kisses. "Nobody else will be up for a while. We have time."

The fact that his hard-on is pressing against your thigh tells you that he probably won't shoot you down. Still, it doesn't surprise you when he asks: "What about your arm?"

You giggle against his neck before pulling back, meeting his eyes. "What about it?"

He scoffs. "C'mon. I know that has to hurt." He gives you that look of concern that you know so well. You resist rolling your eyes. "I don't really think that laying on the floor will help very much..."

"Won't be much of a problem if I'm not the one on my back, right?"

Your hand ghosts over his thigh, — so close to where he needs you.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Fuck," he mutters, running a hand through his dark curls. "I guess not."

"That's what I thought." You lean back in, kissing him quickly before pulling back. "Now, do you want me to ride you or suck you off?"

"Fuck," he says again, voice already shaking. You bite back your smirk. Even after all this time, it still mystifies you just how desperate you can make him in such little time. "Want you to ride me. Please."

In an unfitting gesture of innocence, you lean in to kiss his cheek. "Your wish is my command, baby," you purr. You press your hands against his chest, pushing him towards the floor. "Isn't this something? You get a reward for being the best nurse in the world."

You reach down to undo his jeans, laughing as his hips buck against your touch. "There's not a patient bone in your body."

"Don't have the time to be patient." He stares up at you as you stand up just long enough to get rid of your pants and underwear. As soon as you begin to position yourself over him again, his hands return to your waist.

You love his hands more than anything. They're gentle most of the time, but strong. Capable.

You sigh as he reaches under the worn fabric of your shirt, stroking along your side with his thumb. "I need you now," he says. "Please."

Your head spins for reasons you can't chalk up to sleep deprivation or blood loss. "So pretty when you beg," you remark, reaching down to tug down his boxers. You hover over him for a moment, smiling wickedly down at him. "You want this pussy, baby?"

"Mmm... Uh-huh." His fingers dig into your hips. "Please. Need it."

"Well. Since you asked so nicely..." You lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath hitches as you sink down on him.

Though you intended to continue teasing him, you lose your composure for a moment. Having him inside of you just feels so right. You fit together like you were made for each other. You know that sounds sappy and crazy, but you're exhausted, and so glad to be alive. Alive, and on the floor of the diner, on top of the only man you've ever loved. The only man you will ever love.

"Fuck, Jet," you curse, lifting your hips before slamming down against him again.

He lets out a breathy moan, his hands beginning to wander. He clumsily pulls your tattered, bloodstained shirt over your head, tossing it aside haphazardly. His hands travel upwards to knead your tits.

You toss your head back, letting out a loud moan as the early morning sun warms the bare skin of your back.

"Shh," Jet hushes you. "Everybody else is still asleep." Paying no mind to his own warning, his thumbs brush over your nipples, inspiring another squeak.

"Kinda hard to keep quiet when you, — fuck, — feel like this," you manage. You're riding him faster now, rocking your hips down against him at a frantic pace. "You always make me feel so fucking good, Jet. Drives me insane."

"Yeah, well... The feeling's mutual." He laughs under his breath, only for another high-pitched moan to break up from his throat. "Fuck..."

You look down at his face, illuminated by the golden morning light. Dark brown curls, fanned out around his head. Skin, evenly tanned from countless days spent under the often-unforgiving California sun. Warm eyes the color of black coffee, looking up at you with all the adoration and pleading that you've seen expressed towards the Zones' elusive deities.

His head tilts back, exposing his throat as he lets out a chain of unintelligible pleas.

He is so fucking beautiful, sprawled out on the cold tile. You can hardly believe that he's real, let alone that he's yours.

You ride him harder, looking down at his pleasure-clouded expression with deep concentration. Every sound that he makes feels like a reward. You would do just about anything to hear those noises.

You gasp as you feel one of his hands trailing down your body. It stops between your legs.

Your own sounds of pleasure grow louder as he rubs quick circles against your clit, matching the rhythm that you've set.

The building heat in the pit of your stomach causes your movements to fall out of time. "Jet," you manage. "Jet... Holy fucking shit, gonna come..."

"Yeah?" His voice is all breathy again, high-pitched as he spurs you on. "Gonna come all over me?"

"Mmm-hmm." Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as your rhythm becomes unsteady. The warmth spreads throughout your lower abdomen, stretching like a rubber band, preparing to snap.

Finally, you tighten around him, crying out as you come. As you begin to pulse against him, Jet throws his head back, coming inside of you with a deep groan.

The whole diner seems to go silent in the afterglow. You swear you can hear a tumbleweed rolling around outside. Then again, that might be your sleep-deprived delirium talking.

You feel even more worn out now than you did earlier, which is really no surprise. You just used up the last bit of your energy, riding Jet as though your life depended on it. You can't think of any better way to completely drain yourself after a stressful, sleepless night.

Jet looks up at you, panting. "Well, damn."

You smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "Damn is right." You run your hand affectionately across his cheek as you pull away. "Thanks, babe. I feel much better now."

You stand up, letting him slip out of you. Jet releases a slight whine at the separation.

You reach for your discarded clothes, pulling your underwear on as you feel his come beginning to trickle out of you. As unpleasant as you know it will feel later, you can't exactly be bothered to do anything about it.

"Hell, at this point I could probably take on the world," you continue, tugging on your pants. You grin as you pull your shirt back on. "Think I'll start by making breakfast."

"No, you will not," Jet insists as he straightens his own clothes. He stands up and walks over to you, throwing his arms around your waist.

"I will be making breakfast," he murmurs in your ear. "You will be going to my cot and resting for a while."

Though every atom of you cries out to lie down on a semi-soft surface, you can't help but tease him with a dramatic sigh. "That isn't an optional thing, is it?"

"Nope." He leans in to kiss your cheek, a coil of his hair tickling your skin. "You're going to actually take the time to heal over these next few days. I'm gonna make sure of it."

You chuckle. "Helllooooo, nurse," you quip as he releases you from his hold.

Before you head up the hall, you look up at him with a smile. "It's a new day," you tell him. "And it's gonna be a better one than yesterday."

Jet beams at you. "It already is."

Taglist (Ask to be included!): @mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @yachiiko @house-of-wh0res

#jet star x reader #jet star imagine #ray toro fanfiction #ray toro x reader #ray toro imagines #mcr fanfiction #mcr imagines #mcr x reader #ray toro smut #jet star smut #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance smut #my chemical romance imagines #my writing #kinktober 2022

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your-answer-in-spades · 1 year

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hey!! this is a new era for this blog!

in case you didn’t know, this used to be a writing blog (that never posted any writing LMAO, it’s been dead for a year) and I’ve revamped it into an mcr theme and changed my username!! my main is @doc-martens-enthusiast

im gonna start posting mcr x reader type of content (cringe as fuck i know 💀), hopefully mostly full length one shots but probably just thirst posts and concept stuff at first. @xocasper and @partypoisonzz are my biggest inspirations!! im still deciding whether i should just start writing for kinktober and not post anything until then and then post like 31 fics, or if i should just start posting gradually now and do a once a week kinktober thing.

anyways I hope you’ll stay tuned!!!

edit: forgot to add this but i also have a regular mcr account! @dykejersey

#mcr x reader #frank iero x reader #mcr smut #Mikey way x reader #Gerard way x reader #ray toro x reader #ray toro smut #mcr rpf

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dumblilb · 10 months

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till my jaw locks and my tonsils are raw

#my chemical romance #frank iero #frank iero x reader #frank iero smut #gerard way #mikey way #ray toro #my chemical romance smut #pro rev #revenge era #revenge frank #pro rev frank #you brought me your bullets i brought you my love #the black parade #mcr tbp #three cheers for sweet revenge #tcfsr

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mintspidey · 4 months

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passenger- ray toro

summary: either it was the budding chill in the air, or the wet dream you had about him, but you could not get ray toro out of your mind. going so far as to ignore him at every chance you got not only hurt him, but you as well. you couldn’t focus on anything, ray consuming every single facet of your brain. when gerard offers you straightforward advice, you actually consider his ramblings, no matter how useless he was when he came to his own love life. you weren’t sure if it was worth blurring the lines of friendship. but you did know that you couldn’t wait any longer.

author’s note and warnings: ray toro/gn!reader. friends to lovers, some frerard mentions, smut, porn with plot, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, reader gets off on his leg while sucking him off, car sex, no reproductive parts of the reader mentioned, ray is HUNG. reader doesn’t suck they swallow.

“fuck… i’m so close…” you breathed out.

you rocked your hips, thighs straddling his waist. his large hands covered your back, gently pulling you into him as he threw his head back, exposing his neck. your lips latched onto the awfully bare looking skin under his jawline, planting open-mouthed kisses as his hips bucked into yours.

“fuck, i’m not gonna last if you kiss my neck like- ah- like that…”

you felt his pulse against your lips, nibbling on the skin against his collarbone. “then i better keep going, huh?”

he suddenly stopped moving. confused, you sat back up and looked at him, “what?”

“do you want to take a break?” he asked. you tilt your head, bewildered.

“no, do you?”

“do you want to take a break?” he repeated, his face deadpanning.

“what? what’s- going on, are you okay?” you were concerned. why was he acting like that?

his voice was louder this time, “do you wanna take a break?”

“no, i don’t, why do you keep asking me this?”

“do you want to take a break?” you pulled back into reality as ray’s voice broke the daydream you embarked on, not realizing how you had spaced out mid-rehearsal.

it was two in the afternoon, the chill in the air slowly seeping through the crevices of your bandmate’s basement door. chapped lips and a dry tongue had you croaking into your mic, audible gulps following each line of yours. you sweated through your flimsy shirt, shifting weights with the guitar on your neck pulling you down to the floor. restless fingers grasping stray strands of your hair to move them back into place every few seconds, making sure you looked presentable.

the distorted note on ray’s guitar rang in your ears before he muted it, leaning in your direction. the drums in the back trailed off as you practically heard frank’s eyes roll.

you roughed up your bottom lip from chewing on it like fodder. you needed to rip your hair out one follicle at a time. you wanted to scream. you wanted to slam this stupid guitar that strained your neck against the wall and storm out.

a sudden, strange pressure to be perfect in front of your bandmates took over you. before that week, you didn’t care if they saw you fuck up because you knew that they knew how good you are at what you do. you respected the band and the art just as much as they did.

did it have something to do with the sort-of life-changing information you received a few days ago? definitely not, you thought.

so why was it that when you and gerard grabbed coffee a few days ago, and he made a passing comment on the fact that ray, a good friend and the lead guitarist of your band, had a sex dream about you, you spat out hot coffee on his new jacket?

why was it that you had tuned out gerard whining over his ruined jacket because you were too busy trying to calm your heart rate?

why was it that that exact night, you dreamt about making out with ray in the backseat of his car, fogged up glasses, handprints, and all?

and why, of all that is good, did you tell gerard about this? he had not stopped teasing you about it, and it started to feel like he never would.

you could almost hear that sneaky little shit’s thoughts through his expressions- which ray was happily unaware of. gerard grabbed his mic, held it close to his open lips, and pressed his tongue against his cheek repeatedly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mocking your dream.

it was bad enough that your brain decided to see ray, your bandmate, in such a new light, now you were daydreaming about dry-humping in the back of his car and being called out by gerard for doing so.

if you could kill anyone at this moment, it would be that fucker.

that was the fourth time you messed up at rehearsal. arriving late, sweaty and out of breath to practice wasn’t enough, apparently. it was as if you had to piss off your bandmates further. gerard and mikey’s house was fifteen minutes away from yours, but when you woke up five minutes before band practice, you barely had time to put on a decent outfit let alone eat something, before grabbing your backpack and bolting.

so, when you ran into the brothers’ basement, you were greeted by a symphony of annoyed groans and “finally!”s, unable to meet their eyes.

you wish you started off with tiny mistakes that didn’t matter too much. you wish. first, you missed your cue to sing. second, you simply forgot the lyrics.

and anyone who said third time’s the charm,was a liar, you soon realized. you spaced out mid-song staring at the boy in front of you, long curly hair framing his eyes, fanning out over his soft lips.

fuck, not now, you scolded yourself.

“guys, i’m so fucking sorry, i just…i don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me today-” you ducked your head, hands reaching for the guitar strapped around your neck to free yourself from the weight that felt unbearable at that point.

“i can think of a reason…” gerard quipped sing-songily, cocking an eyebrow at you.

the glare you threw at him was equally as charged, making him motion at his lips as if he were locking them up and throwing away the key.

“maybe you should take a break…” ray repeated, ignoring gerard and readjusting the strap around his shoulders. frank looked like he couldn’t wait for this conversation to be over so he could start playing again. mikey was quiet as usual; he was one of the more easygoing of the bunch. no drama, nothing.

you looked up at ray, guilt painting your visage as you exhaled slowly. you knew you need a break. you know he’s right of course.

you cannot blame yourself either. the fact that you both had sex dreams about each other makes you want to chew drywall. you promised yourself you would not ever fall for any of your bandmates, not even accidentally: a promise that seemed laughably doable after the first week of knowing them.

now that you actually noticed his every movement: the way his curls bounced, the way his fingers moved like butter across the fretboard, the way he could improvise the best melodies at the drop of a hat, the way he threw his head back while experimenting on the guitar that looked like it weighed nothing to him.

it was like there were permanent rose-colored glasses surgically attached to your face that emphasized every breath and blink of the hunk of a guitarist standing in front of you. thinking about him made you feel high, and you hated the amount of pleasure you derived just from recounting every feature of his.

you couldn’t look ray in the eyes. it was way too risky. what if you start giggling for no reason, or acting weird?

“i think i’ll… go home and take a nap. maybe that’s what i need.” you accepted defeat, rubbing your temples and bending over the couch behind you to grab your backpack.

“what you need is to get lai-”

“are you okay to perform tonight?” mikey asks, interrupting his brother, the only other guy to have his head screwed tight.

oh, right. the show.

amongst the whole sex dream fiasco, you had forgotten about all your responsibilities, including the gig you signed the band up for.

you nodded, “i’ll see you all at the gig tonight. i’ll be better, i promise.” you knew they would understand, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the massive weight of guilt crush your shoulders.

“do you need me to drop you off if you’re not feeling okay? It’s no big deal,” ray offered, about to take his guitar off his shoulders.

“no!” you shrieked. too loudly. gerard snickered in the back.

it was bad enough that you couldn’t even meet ray’s eyes, you didn’t think you could handle him driving you home, sitting so close to you, his legs spread apa-

“i can go by myself. you guys should rest up too. we have practiced enough i think… not you, gee, you could warm-up a bit.” you winked at him, hoping the playfulness in your voice didn’t sugarcoat your absolute hatred for him at the moment.

the speed with which you left the stuffy basement that smelled like beer breath, shocked you (you were far from athletic). you preferred working on your music and overanalyzing movies in your own time.

getting out in the open, fresh air made you feel much better. the growing distance from ray left you feeling empty almost like a dopamine detox would.

a slight sense of relief tagged along. the jersey air nipped at your nose as you squinted your eyes and buried your chin in your coat’s neck.

at least the headphones trailing from your ears to your backpack protected your ears against the sharp chill in the air. the thin, dark-wooded trees barely harbored leaves, forming nerve-like patterns against the dark-gray sky. the crunch beneath your converse soothed your nerves a bit as the effect of the numbing cold made you forget everything for a while. the next track in your mixtape undid all that.

it was the song you heard ray play the first time you met him.

this tall nerd in g’s basement, fooling around with his guitar to play what happened to be your favorite song. quietly humming along, toothy smile as he tried new variations of the underlying riff, shaking his head to the rhythm, huge hands knowing exactly what they were doing. the mild scent of lavender in the air as watched his fingers fly across the fretboard, being painfully obvious that you were watching him closely.

you didn’t think you remembered so much of that day. maybe you already had a thing for him, and you didn’t know it.

but how could you not? being in a band with someone who was as talented as ray made you want to become a better musician. plus, the word “crush” made you wince- it was so middle school. it was more than just physical with him.

he was always there for everyone: the responsible one, the one that made sure that when the two rowdy dumbasses, g and frank, were out of line, he fixed it. the one who made sure everyone’s input was considered.

there was no doubt that you found him the most attractive in the band; the mastery of his instrument had you obsessing over learning as much as you could from him. you would spend the most time with him than any other bandmate. sharing a cig when you could, even though neither of you were addicted to it like gerard or frank were, asking him to show you how to pinch the strings even when the band was on a break from rehearsal, him enthusiastically hearing everything you had to say about the most recent movie you saw. it was comfortable. you felt safe with him.

you just never realized how important he was in your life till that day. and that made you want to throw up.

he was just a guy. he was just some dude. he was just a man. he was just a friend.

by the time you entered your apartment to kick your shoes off and lie down on your bed, the words “just a friend” became jumbled sounds. even gaslighting yourself into believing something did not work.

was he ever just your friend?

you tried recounting every interaction with him: every time you walked to his apartment with a new movie stashed in your bag that he hadn’t seen, gifting him a mixtape you made for the songs you wanted him to listen to.

adjusting his glasses for him when they were slightly knocked to the side, grabbing and shaking his thighs when you were excited about something in a movie you liked.

huh, you weren’t completely blameless.

your dreaded gaze shifted from your ceiling to the clock on the wall at three pm. three hours until your gig.

three hours until you had to see him.

you let out a wail of agony into your pillow before kicking off your clothes and shutting your eyes for what you hoped would be fifteen minutes.

you woke up an hour later, groggy and nauseous from the ill-timed nap. you panicked for a few seconds before realizing you were on time for your show.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t played in front of people before. you had performed maybe fifteen shows with the rest of the boys for even bigger bars than you were about to tonight.

but of course, that night was different, because you would carry the curse of knowing you liked someone you should not be liking.

he was your bandmate. mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea, from the countless movies you had seen with ray himself. you knew this was a bad idea. but something about wanting something you cannot have just made it more enticing.

you did know not to let this interfere with the show. your work was always the bigger priority; not some stupid crush that was probably just a temporary effect of the dream.

after tripping on your way to your bathroom sink, you splashed cold water on your face to snap yourself out of sleep. an all-black ensemble; a tank top and jeans; to go with the slightly expensive shoes you saved up for was enough self-decor. you weren’t a fan of showing skin: usually seen with sweaters or cardigans and sweatpants, but you didn’t mind it for performances. especially that night.

yawning and climbing through your clothes, you dragged the tip of the eyeliner over your eyelids and on your waterline before taking your finger and smudging it. you were glad that this sort of rushed make-up satiated your desire to look good. gerard or frank, on the other hand… they went all out.

but to your pure disappointment, it had only been ten minutes.

well, fuck.

when you met your band after that disaster of a rehearsal, you made your ability to make gold out of pure shit work wonders for you. an annoying smile on your face and a strong avoidance of any eye-contact with ray had you at the perfect headspace for the performance.

even when he said hi to you, you simply nodded at him and turned your attention to your guitar in the green room, practicing and focusing on the technique and the order of the chords.

the turnout was more than you had expected. as much as you hated to admit it, gerard was the best frontman, frankie headbanged his way through the show, mikey and ray played next to and off of each other, engrossed in their performances. your stiff, focused posture received multiple side-eyed glances by your bandmates, especially mikey, but you couldn't care less

you didn’t miss cues, you remembered the lyrics, and you, surprisingly, improvised on your solo. just a little more than the bare minimum. you could work with that. you just wanted that night to end as fast as possible.

but of course, just like everything else, gerard had to make your life harder.

your attempt to drink yourself to normalcy didn’t pan out. as soon as you sprinted to the bar to get a drink (or ten) in you, you heard gerard talk about a “kickback” at his place. an afterparty, he explained. it wasn’t like you could tell him no, you lived fifteen minutes away from him, and more importantly, he could sniff out a lie when he needed to.

when you saw gerard sneak out after the show to the band’s van, you followed him, ready to confront him and get away from the crowd yelling and screaming around ray, frank, and mikey.

gerard leaned against the van, lighting up a cigarette, the flame casting a dim orange hue over his face. you catch up to him and flick the back of that idiot’s head.

“ow! the fuck was that for?” he exclaimed, trying to hit you back on your arm, but you were already away from his reach.

“you know exactly what that was for!” you yelled, slamming back into the van's door, sulking, turning to the left to stare daggers into your cherry-haired friend’s face.

“tell me the truth. did you tell ray about my dream?”

“that’s what you’ve been worried about? no, you freak!” gerard scowls, “you know i don’t gossip!”

“then why did you tell me ray’s secret?” you counter.

“because it wasn’t a secret! the others know about it too! he told them!”

“but he didn’t tell me, you asshole. that’s what makes it a secret.” you seethed, trying to flick his forehead.

he covered his head with his hands trying to swat yours away, “okay, alright i fucked up! he just didn’t make it seem as big a deal as you did, so i thought it was okay to tell you.”

oh.

you went back to stand with your back against the van, the cool metal suddenly sending sharp shivers down your spine. a rude reality check. your lungs flattened, a blunt punch to the gut making you instantly nauseous. why did you not think about that? of course it wasn’t a big deal to him. you guys were friends after all. just friends.

the older man, noticing the obvious change in energy, tried covering up, “maybe he wanted us to tell you because he was too scared to tell you himself..”

you stayed quiet, leaning against the car window, letting the chill in the night envelop your sweaty skin. the adrenaline rush of having performed seemed to have crashed as you felt your feet turn jelly.

gerard blew smoke out, ashing it between the two of you. the smell of tobacco and nicotine enveloped you, almost like a comforting hug amidst the sharp twinges of the wind.

gerard extended his cigarette to you, “i’m sorry.”

you didn’t speak. the cigarette fit perfectly between the gap of your index and middle finger, like it was crafted for your digits, you realized, sipping it slowly.

the slow burn of the smoke in your lungs almost made you want to choke almost instantly, but you fought back, blowing out the cloud of cancer.

“i think i see why you smoke… you probably go through this every day with frank, huh?” you tried pullingyour friend’s leg, earning a swift punch on your arm.

“you’re a dick.” he said, choking out smoke, clearly surprised by the sudden jab at the state of his pathetic love life.

“you love me.” you stated with a smile, sucking the last of the cigarette before crushing it under your feet and dragging open the door of the van. “when are we going to learn?”

“before we die, i hope.” he answered you, climbing into the passenger seat.

before you knew it, mikey, ray, and frank ran back to the car, a chorus of laughter following them. you straightened up at the sound of ray’s voice and hoped to god he doesn’t sit next to you in the car.

god, however, seemed to have a personal vendetta against you because mikey decided to drive, leaving only you and ray in the backseat.

frank, for some reason, decided not to come with. said he was “busy.”

99% chance he was about to hook up with a dude whose name frank wouldn’t remember the next morning. scratch that, he definitely already forgot. you admired frank for his ability to fuck randos in bars and then forget about them the next morning. anonymous orgasms, he called them. as much as you hated it, you wanted to be like him. be carefree. be selfish. not some loser who, through the fault of their idiot, red-haired friend, developed a possibly destructive crush on their band member which would absolutely interfere with their day-to-day activities.

ray scooted into the backseat, telling mikey to turn the radio on as he rolled down the window near him, “i feel fuckin alive right now.”

“i know, those cheers had crack in ‘em. not one heckler either!” gerard added with an overtrying smile, clearly trying to recover from the fact that frankie was about to fuck a complete stranger, a whole year after their (secret) one night stand.

you felt ray look at you from the corner of your eyes but told yourself he was looking at your window.

you liked lying to yourself.

he shifted further in your direction and casually laid a hand out. a move so subtle, it would’ve seemed normal to the naked eye. a guitarist stretching his fingers after a show wasn’t uncommon, certainly not questionable. but you. you knew exactly what he was doing.

and you did not care for it.

“he didn’t make it as big a deal as you did.” why. why. why did you do this to yourself.

if it were acceptable, you would have hit yourself but you didn’t because you had to look like you didn’t care. you had to look like you didn’t care that ray could tell you were bothered without you having to say a word. you didn’t care that he was caring and still wanted to talk to you after the way you treated him.

and you loathed yourself for it.

he was nice to everyone. he was observant with everyone. right?

ray, however, did not remove his hand from near your thigh, almost bumping into your leg multiple times as the car rode over bumpers.

“drive properly, way!” you barked, looking back at the buildings and cars whooshing by in a blur.

you tried your hardest not to be part of any conversation by sulking into your seat so much that you hoped you would turn invisible.

by the time you reached gerard’s place, you were positive you wanted to drink yourself into the next morning because you did not want to remember anything. having a crush never bode well with you, and you were starting to think that it would never.

you were the first one at the cooler in his basement to fish out two beers and camp on the right end of the couch. the soft, sinking cushions had you exhaling in relief as you cracked open the beer.

ray, mikey, and then later, gerard filtered into the room, taking seats on the floor, or the ottoman.

and of course, ray sat on the small couch. right next to you.

his thigh pressed up against yours, his (huge) hands covering his knees as he shifted back and forth to make himself comfortable. g threw him and mikey a can each before perching on the ottoman and turning the tv on.

as you chugged the beer, you ignored the heat radiating off ray’s body; the scent of cologne mixed with sweat from tonight’s performance made you straighten your posture. there was a dull throb between your legs from the sudden contact he made, but of course, you did what you did best.

ignored it.

the more you drank, however, the harder it became to ignore it. so much so, that you crossed your legs and leaned away from him onto the armrest for some well needed friction.

then, ray spilled beer on his pants.

it was an accident. ray was fixated on the tv— some cheap horror flick that g thought would be hilarious to make fun of. ray, no matter how tall and buff, was a pussy. so when that jumpscare hit and instead of laughing like g and mikey, his body jerked, he spilled his whole drink on his pants, muttering a string of “fuck”s that caught g’s attention over the loud volume of the tv.

“oh, toro, don’t tell me you fucked up my couch!” gerard whined, again, getting up from his seat, flailing his arms.

“dude, i’m sorry, i wasn’t expecting to jump..” ray trailed off, rising to his feet to look down at his pants. mikey tugged ray’s arm to the door, “come on, i have some clothes you can wear.”

gerard, noticing that you looked… off, offered you a water bottle from the cooler. you chugged the bottle, cherishing the moisture that your dry throat needed and looked at your friend whose gaze bathed you in such pity that you wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

“it’s that bad, huh?”

you dropped your head in his lap, groaning and getting back up to lay across the couch, “g, i don’t know what to do with myself.”

“you were normal a few days ago, why can’t you just... be normal again?” he questioned, humor coating his voice.

“you’re saying that? miss i-wanna-fuck-frank-so-bad-i’ll-sit-through-him-fucking-the-whole-town-before-me?” you snapped, in no mood to joke around.

“touche. i’ll just go fuck myself, i guess.” he got up to walk back to his seat, genuinely sounding hurt.

“i was kidding, g. please tell me what to do. please?” you begged, hoping he would notice the sincerity of your words.

gerard pretended to think about his options for a moment before sitting back down, “fine, only because you asked nicely.” you sat up, ready to hear genuine advice.

“you need to tell him.”

“you have ten seconds to get the fuck away from me before i kil-”

“think about it!” he prefaced, “the longer you let your crush on ray stew, the more painful it’s going to be. just tell him and get it over with!”

not that gerard didn’t have a point, but it’s that you wanted a simpler, less confrontational way of solving this problem.

“what if it makes things awkward?” you whined, sulking your shoulders.

“you know ray doesn’t care about any of that right? he’s like the calmest person on the planet, and he cares about you.” gerard informed, walking back to his seat at the sound of crescendoing footsteps.

ray entered the basement before mikey, a new pair of pants that looked strange at first.

he was in grey sweats, mikey’s clearly, they hugged his legs and rode up at his ankles but he didn’t seem to mind. the moment he walked under the light, your eyes immediately threw their focus on gerard who was also looking back at you, noticing the obvious elephant in the room.

jesus fuck, was he hung. it was hard not to stare at the obvious dickprint against the cotton fabric of his sweats. gerard let out a “look at that” whistle, knowing exactly what was going through your mind.

“these are kind of tight, huh?” ray addressed, to nobody in particular, stretching his legs and adjusting the fabric around waist. a jolt of energy traveled between your legs as you watched him adjust himself in those pants.

gerard, tired of your pussyfooting, talked to you directly, “you wanna go home already?”

huh?

you looked up at him, confused, trying to figure out what was cooking in his head, “what? when did-”

“aww, shucks. i wish you could stay longer. well, i guess ray will have to drive you home since you’ve had a beer already!” he was bad at being subtle, to say the least.

what. the. fuck.

your eyes widened. you wanted to punch that fucker’s face in so bad. you weren’t ready. especially after what you saw.

“yeah, totally, um. are you okay with that?” ray asked you, his lips looking pinker than ever. almost like he was begging you.

no. no. no. nope. you were not-

“sure!” your mouth had a mind of its own.

-you were going with him.

gerard smiled sickly sweetly at you before turning off the tv and walking towards the door, a sign for everyone else to get the fuck out. you flipped him off before turning to ray and walking ahead of him so that you did not see. that.

you couldn’t get the image out of your head. sweet, guitar-nerd ray, had a huge-

“good job performing today.” ray muttered, looking down at you, breaking your horny train of thought.

“oh! uh, thanks. and you were uh-” fuck, quick think of a word, “breathtaking.”

great going, idiot. if he didn’t already know before, he definitely knows now.

“that is the first time anyone has ever used that word for me,” he chuckled, “but thanks…” his voice that was usually husky and light, now levering lower than usual.

at that moment, you wished for any god out there to take you. the embarrassment was too much.

crickets chirped in the starless night as the two of you walked through the stone-laid path between grass. your tank top was purely decorative at that point, doing barely any work to protect you from the cold. ray, a gentleman, noticed you shiver, and of-fucking-course offered you his jacket.

“won’t you be cold?” you asked through chattering teeth, hugging yourself.

“nah, im wearing a thick shirt underneath. you might as well be naked right now,” he commented, eyeing your tank top.

a furious blush rose to your cheeks at his comment. something about the way he said it, made your breath hitch, as if it implied that he had consciously thought about you naked.

ray stopped to give you his zip-up hoodie as he tore it off his torso, the hem of his tight black shirt riding up to reveal the tuft of hair trailing down his underwear. you gulped involuntarily as you watched him adjust his shirt underneath and place the jacket around your shoulders. you never realized just how tall he was before he towered over you; your eyeline was at his chest.

fuck, this wasn’t helping the butterflies in your stomach.

you thanked him, trying not to look into his eyes too much before walking to his car. ray took a beat before starting toward his car again, almost as if he was waiting for something.

his car was new— well, as new as a second-hand car could be—painted in jet black with the plate reading “jet-star” some reference to his favorite comic book series. you chuckled under your breath before climbing in, trying to warm up fast so that you wouldn’t need his stupid jacket anymore, with his stupid scent of soap, cologne, and sweat, and the stupid warmth that you definitely wanted to steal from him.

you tapped your feet nervously against the floor of the car, as if that would get you closer to your apartment somehow.

ray walked over to the driver’s seat, mirroring you and strapping on his seatbelt. he was huge. no, not just like that, but physically. larger than you in every aspect. as his fingers reached for his keys, you noticed his pants shift, igniting every dirty thought in your mind.

fuck. fuckity fuck.

“you comfy?” he asked, looking behind the car. you nodded, noticing that he placed his hand on the back of your headrest and started to back up.

you didn’t know whether it was him leaning so close to you, or the hand he threw over your seat, but your stomach would be a gold medalist gymnast for the sheer amount of times it flipped. you noticed the freckles he had, somehow more prominent under the dim orange light of his car, forming miniature constellations on his face. you were well aware that you were staring but you didn’t care anymore.

it was better you told him. you had been this way for two days already, and your condition was only getting worse. it was like ray had cast a love spell on you, and you couldn’t get rid of it no matter what you tried distracting yourself with.

ray’s eyes flickered to your face, previously brown now hazel under the light. you had never felt safer in your entire life as you did then.

he broke into a smile, “what? is there something on my face?” he asked, his left hand flying to his cheek gauging for something to pluck out.

you shook your head, edge of your lips curving up in fondness, “you know, you’re really pretty.”

instantly, he furrowed his eyebrows, clearly taken aback, “huh-what? where is this coming from? did you drink too much? you know you’ve been acting weird all day, what’s with yo-”

it was time, “g told me, you know.”

he tilted his head, like he was trying to recall what you were talking about, “about wha-”

your heart was in your throat, every beat vibrating your torso. it was then or never.

“the fucking sex dream, toro.” you deadpanned, sitting up and facing him.

“oh. that…” he trailed off, taking his hand off your headrest and resting them on his thighs. “listen, i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, which is why i didn’t tell you. i didn’t want to weird you out.” he explained, avoiding eye-contact.

your gaze was fixated on his face, listening to every single word carefully.

“is it true?” you asked, turning toward him and unbuckling your seat belt since the car was no longer moving. confusion washed over his face as he unknowingly fidgeted his fingers.

“do you feel that way about me?” your heart pounded so hard, you wouldn’t be surprised if ray could hear it too. ray looked ahead, his eyes glued to the road ahead. the faint noise of static from the radio dwindled in the air, alleviating your anxiety just a bit.

“do you?” he whispered, like he just gave away a secret.

you stumbled over your words, not expecting to be interrogated in his place, “i asked first,”

“and i’m asking you now. do you feel… that way about me?” a mixture of hesitance and expectation brewed in his tone.

your palms turned white hot, eyes widening at the accusation. you knew that the more time you took to answer him, the more obvious your feelings would be. on one hand, you wanted to tell the truth. on the other hand, you feared the worst of what could happen.

what if he didn’t feel the same way? what if this was just a ploy to get you to confess and then leave you high and dry. what if-

time moved slowly. ray let go of the steering wheel, placing his hand on your cheek, warmth spreading over your face. his fingers caressed your cheekbone, eyes looking into yours and dipping down to your lips, “tell me you don’t feel that way about me… and i’ll pull away and we will go back to being…” he looked up at your eyes, “just friends.”

the hands that were once on your thighs, gripping them out of nervousness, now tangled in his curly locks, guiding his lips to yours.

you could feel your organs jump from excitement, fingers roaming and threading his hair as he kissed you. his soft, plump lips guided yours skillfully, making you moan into his mouth. ray smiled against you and gently pulled back.

he leaned his forehead against yours. you breathed out slowly “you have no idea how long i have wanted to do this for.”

“me too. i can’t believe i’m kissing y-”

“less talking, more making out, toro.” you interrupted, pulling him in, by the collar of his tight shirt, making him gasp in surprise before pressing his mouth to yours again. his hands trailed from your face to your waist, covering half your torso.

he handled your waist like he was scared to break you, fingertips ghosting over your skin, itching to sneak underneath the fabric of your shirt and feel you. an accidental contact of his arms and your thighs made you arch into him, arms automatically hooking behind his neck.

you moaned without a care in the world, leaning back into your seat and pulling him on top of you, ready to be ravaged.

“ray …” you whimpered through the kisses, “please just-”

“not yet, i need to savor this-” his lips latched to your neck, “need to taste you.”

you bucked your hips in desperation, your arousal getting unbearable. you never knew ray was this experienced. he did mention being in relationships here and there, but he was never like frank or mikey, open to anyone.

he nibbled gently on your ear as you pawed at his broad, firm chest, “toro, you didn’t tell me you- fuck- worked out.”

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said through heavy breaths, trailing kisses down your neck to your collarbones. he looked up at you, fingers grabbing the hem of your tank top. you nodded, giving him permission to take it off you.

as you were about to lift your back up to get rid of the flimsy black fabric, ray’s hand snuck under your shirt, supporting and lifting your back as his other hand swiped the tank top off you in one go. his fingers almost spanned your entire back, placing you back down as you lay there shirtless.

the leather seats were uncomfortably cold, making you shiver in response. the everloving, observant man on top of you let you go and moved back into the driver’s seat, pulling the lever under his seat, reclining as low as the seats could go, “get on top.”

the sheer gray fabric of his pants now stretched as his legs spread apart, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. your lips parted in surprise, your gut twisting deliciously. you grabbed his thigh for support as you climbed into his lap, thighs straddling his waist.

in a moment of deja-vu, you giggled softly, looking away from the man beneath you.

“what? what’s so funny?” ray asked, amused, shifting closer to your hips.

“this is exactly how it went it my dream.” you confessed, shifting your gaze to him, receiving a cocked eyebrow.

“you dreamt about fucking me in a car?” he asked, barely censoring himself like he usually would.

that earned him a playful smack on his torso, his calloused fingers drawing circles on the small of your back. you arched into his touch, trying to explain your dream. ray, however, barely focused on what you said, was distracted by your chest. hardened nipples adorned with piercings met his eyeline, and he wasted no time to kiss one of your pecs and lick them, making your voice go an octave higher.

“ray, fuck, please…” you begged for nothing, grinding down on his hips, feeling him move against your crotch.

“tell me more about your dream, was i any good?” he gave you a toothy smirk, cock stirring in his pants.

“you were so good, oh my god, you went do-” you croaked as he surprised you by pushing your hips down on his clothed dick, “you made me cum on your tongue so many times,” you answered, your digits creeping under his tight shirt, feeling his happy trail against your fingertips. you heard ray gasp softly and throw his head back at your sudden touch.

taking a mental note, you played with the band of his — mikey’s— sweatpants, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “can i? please?”

he groaned, roaming his hand up your back and down to the flesh of your ass, “yes. please, now.”

his voice exuded desperation, bottom lip jutted out in anticipation.

you climbed out of his lap and onto the floor of the car, knees resting against the floor mats. you placed careful kisses on his stomach, ambling them down his v-line. licking your lips, you hooked your fingers under his waistband, slowly pulling them off him. the pace at which the fabric dragged across his shaft made him buck his hips into nothing.

his cock jumped at the first contact with your fingers. you wrapped them around his impressive length, obviously not able to make a fist around his girth.

you weren’t a complete stranger to oral sex, but the sheer size of ray’s dick made you a bit nervous. you didn’t realize how you were already salivating at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, palms feeling up his inner thighs and trailing up his hips, lips inching closer to his tip.

“you ready?” you asked, one final check before you crossed the friendship line forever.

“yes, definitely yes, but are you? i wanna make sure that yo-”

you cut him off with your tongue circling the tip of his cock, the saliva accumulating slowly dribbling down to his cock. ray threw his head back, cursing under his breath at the sensation of your warm tongue around his dick. he looked down at you through his bottom lashes, licking a stripe up the underside before taking him in your mouth, a visual he had been aching for.

the warmth of your mouth made him fist your hair as you moaned at the feeling of your hair being pulled, sending vibrations up his cock.

hollowing out your mouth, you sunk your mouth down on him, one hand resting on his thigh, massaging it slowly.

tears prickling, you let your drool lubricate him and drip further down before pulling him out with a pop. your drool mixed with his precum connected the edge of your bottom lip to his tip.

“you keep going like that, and i’ll be useless to you,” he gasped out, breathing heavily like he did not expect you to treat him so well.

the corner of your mouth twitched up before coiling the string of saliva around your thumb and smearing it against the slit of his tip, etching an embarrassingly loud moan from him.

“what the actual fuck…” he was enamored by you.

“how many times have you thought about me like this, toro? gagging over your cock on my knees?” you kissed his thighs, fist pumping him slowly. he felt better in your mouth than anybody else had. like his dick was made for you.

“too many fucking times to remember if i’m being honest…” he answered you immediately, twitching at your mercy.

before you could ask him another question that would make him blush furiously, turning his cheeks pink, he continued, “ever since i saw you in that choker g gifted you on your birthday... i haven’t been able to stop thinking about how easy it would be to break that fucking thing with me deep in your throat.” he mewled, the inside of his eyebrows twisting up in pleasure.

one your hands flew to ray’s leg for support, your hips involuntarily bucking against his ankle at his comment.

“fuck, why didn’t you tell me sooner, toro?” you asked, finally seeking friction against his leg, “you’re a pussy…” you wanted to provoke him.

“you are what you eat,” he countered, tossing the ball in your court.

this is what attracted you to ray in the first place. his ability to go along with whatever you said because he knew you would never say anything in bad faith. he liked you. he wanted you.

your cheeks grew hotter with every second, relishing the fact that you were exactly where you have wanted to be for a while.

he saw you blush furiously at his confession before you twisted your grip and pumped him faster, gathering spit at the tip of your tongue. ray’s fingers grabbed a fistful of your hair before lowering you onto his cock.

you spat on the tip, earning a guttural groan from him. you wasted no time to wrap your lips around him once again, closing your eyes and letting him reach deeper down your throat with every stroke.

“you feel- so fucking- oh my god-” he spewed out nonsense as you went further every time you came back up for air. ray’s thighs twitched, knees leaning toward each other, trapping you between his legs.

his grip on your hair tightened, pulling at and scratching your scalp more than before. now that you were between his legs, his cock bottomed out in your mouth, you felt your throat contract around his tip, his thighs pressing your mouth further on his dick.

ray swore that he would have simply cum from the sounds you made choking and crying over his dick. your eyeliner had bled down from your waterline to your chin, the tears and drool painting your face pathetic.

your jaw hurt from cockwarming the man above you, but he clearly seemed to enjoy the show you put on. gasping and smiling down at you like he does at his shows when he shreds on his guitar. the adrenaline all too familiar to him, yet enthralling as ever.

“you make me crazy… fuck i’m so close,” he announced, biting his bottom lip.

your left hand, with a mind of its own, walked up his thighs to cup his balls. his cock jerked in your mouth before you took him in fully, your nose pressed up against his happy trail.

“fuck, i’m coming, oh fuck oh fuck-” he wailed, pressing you further down on him before spilling his cum down your throat, twitching with each wave of orgasm taking over his body. you pulled your mouth off his dick, rubbing against his ankle, chasing the high you had built up so far.

with each swallow you rocked against his leg faster, falling apart quickly. as you tripped over the edge of orgasm, ray bumped his leg up, meeting you halfway. white light engulfed you as you shut your eyes, riding your orgasm out for as long as possible.

“fuck, you came just from humping my leg?” ray asked, astonished. your head fell into his lap, drawing small circles on the side of his thighs before kissing up. rising from your knees, you climbed back into his lap, giving him enough room to put his sweatpants back on.

“was that good?” you asked, looking down at him, hands at his waist.

his hands stroked your cheeks, fingers nudging your chin toward him. the aftershocks of your orgasm made it hard for you to rise to the seat, your grip on his thighs tightening for support. he grabbed your hips, pulling you up easily.

heavy-lidded gazes entwining, the warmth of his arms around your torso pulled the corners of your lips up.

ray didn’t even have to answer you. he craned his neck to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips. you nibbled on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from him.

“why didn’t we do this earlier?” you ask softly, pulling back and looking into his eyes.

“better late than never,” he sighed, slowly closing his eyes shut, “i’ve wanted you…”

your heartbeat quickened.

“...for so damn long.”

butterflies. those damn butterflies made your heart feel like it was budding something new. something exciting.

“well you can’t get rid of me now,” you smiled, admiring the freckles on his skin; sweat glistening on his neck. the bite marks you left bloomed in reddish-violet hues under the dim light of the car. fogged car windows giving you the illusion of privacy as you kissed the corner of his mouth before climbing off of him and back to your seat.

“you’re coming over right?” you asked, looking ahead. you were not going to fuck this up.

“thought you’d never ask,” he stated simply, turning the car on and stepping on the gas.

_________________

an: heyyy!! thank u for reading!! mcr brainrot has me by the throat... lmk if u liked it :)

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retrouvaiiled · 2 years

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WHAT ABOUT A CORRUPTION THING WITH RAY :D

i know ray would love corrupting you.

so what if you were the young girl from the house over? it didn't matter to ray. you helped out ray's wife a lot due to the fact you did community service for her class in school. you always noticed the looks ray shot you, and ray always noticed the looks you shot him.

what was he saying? of course it was wrong. it was disgusting. it was vile. "looking at the young girl from your wifes class? yeah, thats so very fucked up ray." ray thought to himself as he saw you come through the house to help his wife with something again.

it was that goddamned skirt. it was so fucking short, barely covered the curve of your ass, let alone protect anything if you ever bent over. ray snapped out of his thoughts when his wife had some sort of emergency with her boss, giving him the perfect chance to make his move. which now, he realized made him even more fucked up.

"uhm, mr. toro? is there anything i can do for you other than what your wife told me?" you asked, voice soft and sweet. which, only made ray feel a lot more shitty about this. "no, actually. you can go on your way now."

"actually, i think.. i could help you with something else." you said, sounding innocent even though your thoughts were far from innocent, since you noticed his fucking massive bulge since you first walked in. "is that right?" ray asked, a smirk forming on his face.

"mhm.." you nodded, pushing yourself against him with one hand against his bulge.

"lets take this somewhere else, pretty."

#ray toro #ray toro smut #ray toro blurb #ray toro insert fic #ray toro fic #ray toro x fem reader #mcr smut #mcr insert smut

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rdiowx · 2 months

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can we talk about riding rays (ray toro😰) thighs pls like i would PAY to grind on his thighs i could literally cum just from that oouyghhhdhdhgfghhhh i do not want to unpack this at all

LMAO THE (ray toro 😰)

Anyways ugh real i need him to force be down on his thigh while i beg him to fuck me with his cock but thats just me personally

#mcr x reader #ray toro smut

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bodysnatcherrs4ever · 1 year

Text

if you guys send requests for my chem fics maybe ill write some, smut or fluff i do not care just not angst i cannot cope with angst im a pussy when it comes to that stuff i can even read it 🙂

female!, gn!, male! ,afab/amab reader is fine

if i do write male!reader content dont be expecting something great.. 😬😬😬 ill try tho,, im sure ill get there one day.

#frank iero smut #frank iero x reader #mikey way smut #frank iero x you #mcr fluff #gerard way smut #gerard way x reader #ray toro smut #ray toro x reader #my chemical romance #smut #fluff

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frnkier0 · 1 year

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masterlist ★

#frnkier0 #frnkier0 masterlist #m.list #writings #my chemical romance #my chemical romance imagines #my chemical romance smut #frank iero imagines #frank iero smut #gerard way imagines #gerard way smut #ray toro imagines #ray toro smut #mikey way imagines #mikey way smut

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partypoisonzz · 2 years

Text

better late than never (ray toro x reader smut)

Kinktober Day 14: Cockwarming/Desk Sex

Era: Current (2022)

Reader Pronouns: None, but Reader has AFAB anatomy.

Content:

- Cockwarming Ray while he works

- Degradation and praise

- Ray domming the absolute HELL out of you.

Word Count: 2,781

Disclaimer: This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

All you can focus on is the sound of that damned pen scraping against paper. Over and over again, it makes the same quiet skritch sound, doing its part to drive you absolutely mad.

Of course, you know that the pen has very little to do with your current state of agitation. At this point, however, you need a distraction.

More aptly, you need something to be mad at.

As much as you may want to, you can't quite bring yourself to be angry with Ray. This is the case, even when he is paying you absolutely no attention while his cock is buried deep inside of you.

It's almost as though you aren't there at all as he works out a series of chord progressions and commits them to paper. He pulls back, tapping the pen against his chin before going right back to scribbling random letters over the printed lyrics.

Beyond restless, you shift ever so slightly. Despite his apparent concentration, the movement is not lost on Ray.

Your breath hitches as you feel his free hand tighten around your hip, squeezing. "Be still," he mutters before returning to his work.

Though you sort of feel like screaming out of frustration, you oblige him, going completely motionless once again.

You try to think about something, — anything, — other than the fact that he's inside of you right now, to very little avail. You can't help it, — he's fucking huge and rock hard, buried deep in your dripping wet pussy.

You have no clue how he's being so casual and unaffected about this whole thing, but, by God, is he doing just that.

It's almost enough to make you wonder if this is all some sort of messed up dream that you're having. That would make sense, — you, so fucking desperate you could cry, and Ray, just as cool as ever and somehow unattainable despite his suffocating proximity.

You want so badly to wake up, only to find him dipping his head under the covers and yanking down your pajama pants, waking you up the best way he knows how.

Alas, something tells you that won't be happening.

He keeps his hand resting on your hip. His touch is real, concrete, — blistering in warmth and full of unintended tenderness.

And still, he seems to care twenty times more about putting music to those stupid fucking lyrics than he does about you.

"Ray." His name breaks up from your throat, quiet. You can't resist testing the waters, though you get the sinking feeling that you know what the ultimate outcome will be.

As predicted, you get no response.

Nevertheless, you persist. "Ray," you repeat, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Okay. Fine. If standard operations aren't going to work, you'll just have to be a bit more dramatic.

It doesn't take much for your barely-quavering voice to suddenly dissolve into one long whimper, trilling out the first pet name that pops into your mind. "Baby..."

Ray doesn't even look up from the top of his desk. "No," he snaps, beginning to write at a faster pace.

You tense up at the sharpness in his voice. Such assertiveness is uncharacteristic of him. That being said, it makes you wet in a way that not many things do.

In your current state, that's a dangerous thing.

You find yourself wanting to test your limits. You've long since lost the control it would take to stop yourself.

"No what?" you ask him. "Can I not talk to you?"

For a moment, he is quiet. Finally, he speaks up again.

"Yeah. You can." His voice sounds normal again, so soft and sweet. The deviousness manages to slip into his final comment, however. "Just let me finish working first."

You somehow muster up the willpower to bite your tongue for a few moments more. Then, you press: "When do you think that'll be?"

You don't overlook the way that his grip tightens around the pen. "I'll be finished when I'm finished."

You have to try your damnedest not to burst into a fit of giddy giggles. God, you are going to get it in a bit. "Alright, alright," you say. "You don't have to be so uptight about it. Jesus..."

Ray doesn't say a word in response to your smarting off. He just hums, — a deep, low sound that you know guarantees trouble.

Knowing better than to try your luck too much, too soon, lest he tell you to put your pants back on and go about your day, you stay quiet.

Well, except for the sound of your slightly ragged breathing.

There's nothing for you to do now except think about how fucking full of him you are. You wish you could rock your hips back and forth just a little, slowly build up the pace until you're riding him just the way that he likes.

You would never get away with it, of course. Certainly not when he's in such a militant mood.

Still, it's more than fun to think about.

The issue with this type of fun thought is that it's the type of thought that makes you restless. Borderline uncomfortable, even. You're so tempted to shift a bit, but you just know that Ray would have something to say about it. So you struggle to remain still.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you focus your attention on the paper. You try to read the lyrics, make sense of the words that will eventually comprise the band's first song in almost a decade, but you just can't seem to concentrate.

There are a few key words that you pick out, — swarm, decay, coward... Oh, whore. That's an interesting one.

Still, you can't for the life of you process the context of the lyrics, or how they might possibly sound when they are sung, or that they're important at all, really.

You're that helpless at this point. You just need to get fucking railed.

Ray sighs deeply underneath you, his chest rising and falling against your back.

You squirm slightly, letting out an involuntary whine.

Your slight movement turns into a full-blown shiver as Ray's fingertips ghost over your inner thigh. It's barely a touch at all, but God. You fucking need it.

"Be patient," he murmurs in your ear. "I'm almost done."

Every scratching sound after that seems agonizingly slow. After what seems like hours, he finally drops the pen. He lets out a sound of satisfaction as he cracks his knuckles, reclining slightly in his chair.

"Think it's time I called it a day," he announces. The chipperness in his voice betrays the darkness of his eyes when they fall on yours.

He tilts your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as his gentle smile melts away. "Now, I just have to decide what to do with you..."

Before you can think better of them, the words slip off your tongue. "Can you fuck me?" you blurt out. "Please? I've been waiting all afternoon..."

His laughter rumbles in his chest. The sensation travels throughout your whole body. "I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself," he says. "How many times did I have to tell you to be still today, baby?"

You swallow hard, struggling to keep the lump in your throat from unravelling into tears of desperation. "I don't know, sir," you mumble.

Ray hums. "Well, I wasn't exactly keeping count, either. I just know that it was too many." His fingers return to your thigh, tracing light, absentminded patterns as your breath catches in your throat. "You weren't exactly obedient today. I asked you to hold still and keep me warm while I worked, and then I'd reward you. And what did you do?"

This question isn't a condescending one. Hell, it's not even rhetorical. He genuinely wants an answer from you. An honest one, for best results.

Despite the slight bruising that your pride takes as a result, you give in. "I moved," you mutter.

He laughs. Despite the fact that it doesn't sound remotely mean or intimidating, the sound still makes your heartrate quicken instantly. "That wasn't all, baby," he chides. "Can you think of anything else that you did that I asked you not to?"

You only have to consider it for a moment before coming to a conclusion. "I wasn't quiet when you asked me to be," you concede. "I rushed you, too. I was..."

"A little impatient, yeah?" His thumb strokes the underside of your chin. Tempted as you are to lean into his touch, you remain frozen. Attempting to make up for your noncompliance too late, you suppose.

"Yes, sir," you admit quietly, face burning.

You can practically see the gears turning in Ray's brain as he continues to caress your face, seeming to mentally formulate a response to your admission of guilt. Finally, he seems to reach a verdict.

"I don't know, baby. You were pretty disobedient." He frowns down at you. "I could edge you into next week for that, don't you think?"

Your first instinct is to cry and beg, tell him you would do anything to avoid such a fate.

But that's not what he wants from you. More than anything, you want to do what he wants. "You could, sir," you tell him. "If you think that's an appropriate punishment..."

"Well. It would be an appropriate punishment, for sure. But..."

That last word causes hope to bloom in your chest. The anticipation builds up quickly within you as the hand that rests under your chin travels down your neck and over your shoulder.

"I'm feeling nice," he finally says. "I see how badly you need it. I'll give you what you want."

"Thank you." The words break up from your throat with all the desperation of someone with a knife pressed against their throat. "Thank you so much, sir. I..."

You go quiet as his lips brush against your temple. "Later," he tells you as he pulls away. "Stand up, baby."

You rise on shaking legs, letting out an instinctive gasp as he slips out of you. You're fucking aching for him. You think you'd keep him inside of you forever, if you could.

You hear the sound of his desk chair sliding across the floor as he gives you your next order. "Bend over my desk for me."

A groan passes your lips as you position yourself so that your chest presses against the hard surface. "Yes, sir."

"There we go. So good for me." The chair creaks as he stands up. "Now... Don't turn around the whole time. You got it?"

Though you're quietly mourning the look on his face when he comes, you agree. "I've got it, sir."

He laughs, hands coming to rest on either side of your waist and squeezing. "You're being good now, huh?" he asks. "That's a shame. Things would've turned out a lot better for you if you'd done that earlier. But you know what they say..."

You stiffen as he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock slipping so easily between the lips of your dripping cunt.

He pauses there for a moment, pressing a chaste kiss against the side of your neck before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Better late than never," he says, just before driving back into you with an unexpected amount of force.

You let out a shaking moan, clawing at the surface of the desk.

You expect him to stay like that for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the angle before setting his pace.

Alas, this isn't what you get. Not at all.

The next thrust comes soon after the first, just as hard. His hands travel down to your hips, gripping you hard enough to leave bruises.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" he asks, pulling out almost all the way before slamming into you again. "You wanted me to fuck you like this? Wanted me to manhandle you?" He lets out a loud, broken moan, burying himself up to the hilt. "Wanted me to treat you like a fucking slut?"

The degrading name takes you aback. Holy fuck. He hardly ever talks to you like that.

You certainly aren't opposed to it, though.

"Yes," you cry out. "Yes, that's what I wanted."

"Say it, then." He groans, hips bucking against you. "Tell me you're my slut, baby. Go on."

Despite the harshness of his words, he's still so fucking encouraging. It makes it so easy for the words to slip up from your throat. "I'm your slut," you declare. "I'll do anything you say."

"Hold on, now." His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling sharply. "I don't take kindly to lies, baby. If you'll do anything I say, how come you couldn't hold fucking still earlier? If I asked you once, I swear I asked you a million... fucking... times..." Each word is punctuated by a sharp thrust, the force causing tears to begin to prick in the corners of your eyes.

The response slips out automatically. "Because I'm stupid."

Something in those words causes him to slow down, his grip on your waist loosening. You mentally kick yourself.

Shit. He's waiting to see if you'll use your safeword.

When you neglect to give him any verbal cues, he speaks up. "Oh, baby. That's not true." One of his thumbs rubs circles against the small of your back. "You're so fucking good for me, you know that? We just make mistakes sometimes, that's all."

You hum, giving him a slight, jerky nod.

"Such a good pet for me," he continues, beginning to roll his hips into you with a bit more intensity again. "I'm lucky... So lucky..."

You don't respond to his praise with words. You don't think you could if you tried. You reward him with the sound of your moans as he begins to build up his pace again, each sound steadily increasing in volume.

"You're so fucking good," he goes on. "Can't believe how good I have it... Getting to have you in my lap while I work... Warming my cock... So fucking desperate... All for me."

He lets out another strangled groan as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room.

"Baby," he forces out between gorgeous noises, his rhythm growing increasingly uneven. "I'm getting close. Need you to come for me."

Simply hearing those words almost finished the job. Knowing that he needs you in the same way that you need him does its job to make your already-weak knees continue to melt into jelly.

If that's not enough, the next order that he gives you causes you to grow dizzy. "Grind against the edge of my desk for me," he tells you. "Please, baby.... Want you to come first..."

With a shuddering breath, you do as he asked. You roll your hips until your clit brushes against the corner of the desktop.

Maybe it should hurt, but you're so fucking wet that you can hear Ray's every thrust, so the bit of extra friction hardly does anything to faze you.

In fact, it's what finally tips you over the edge.

Your only warning is a loud cry that is almost a scream as you tighten around Ray's cock. Your eyes squeeze shut as your high overtakes you, intense and seemingly neverending. You've waited for so long, and it's just so fucking good.

It's even better when Ray follows you over the edge a moment later. Just as he promised, he spills inside of you, letting out a guttural groan as he all but collapses on top of you.

After what seems like an unusually long amount of time, you finally come back to earth, only to register the feeling of your aching knees and Ray, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

"Turn around and look at me," he murmurs against your neck.

Though it takes far too much effort, considering the amount of energy that you just spent, you manage to oblige him.

Instantly, he leans in to kiss you for the first time since this morning. You melt into his touch, allowing him to pull you into his chest.

He laughs against your lips as he pulls back, forehead still resting against yours. "My pretty baby," he cooes as his fingertips trail gently over your skin. "Love you."

You hum, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "Mmm... love you, too."

He pulls back, pressing another kiss against your cheek before making a declaration. "Gonna cook dinner for you," he says. "You deserve it for being so good..."

You laugh quietly. "Whatever you say, sir."

Taglist (Ask to be included!):

@mysunfishpeedinmyroom @xocasper @clichedlovers @yachiiko @enchantinghouseofwh0res @dangerouslittlefairy @deadlovers

#my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance smut #my chemical romance imagines #ray toro smut #ray toro x reader #ray toro imagine #ray toro fanfiction #mcr fanfiction #mcr imagines #mcr smut #mcr x reader #my writing #kinktober 2022

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2therazor · 4 months

Text

clean sheets

w/c: 2916

revenge gerard x reader

content warnings: afab, dom reader, mommy kink, slightttt masochism, established relationship, unprotected sex, degradation

you are responsible for your own media consumption

!THIS IS A REPOST FROM BEFORE I DELETED THIS BLOG!

it had been an extremely long day. extremely long. all day your boss on your ass about this and that, every thought straying further away from stability. wasn’t being an adult supposed to be fun?

as soon as you pulled into the driveway you felt your heart sink, every emotion in the world had just hit you at once as you slowly got out of the drivers seat and closed the door. the only thing on your mind was walking into the front door and being able to see gerard. days like this he would for sure be sat on the couch watching anything ranging from a superhero movie to a horror movie. (and nowhere in between) you smiled at the thought as you slowly pushed open the front door.

“hey baby,” he called from the couch as you slowly shut the door.

you kicked off your shoes and set down your bag without saying a word. gerard knew something was off right away. you were never this quiet coming home.

“hey.” you sighed, trying to hide the frustration and irritation in your voice. which you knew, wouldn’t do much. gerard always had a way of knowing if something wasn’t right, even if you tried to be as nonchalant as possible, there was no getting past him.

“what’s wrong?” he paused the movie and turned his head to look at you in the doorway. your head was down the entire time, looking at your feet.

the question alone was enough to make you crack as you quickly burst into tears, not lifting your head from your feet to look at gerard. you knew the look of concern on his face would probably only make it worse and you hated to worry him.

“oh sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he shifted from his spot on the couch and made his way over to you, slowly wrapping his arms around your body. the scent of his cheap cologne mixed with cigarettes was all too familiar to you. never once did you not feel safe in his arms, especially when you were like this.

“it’s just- my stupid fucking boss again” you choked between sobs, burying yourself deeper into his sweater.

you felt an arm come up to rub small circles on your back as he pulled away from you, looking at you with those soft, hazel eyes. you could’ve swore you’d die right there. he spoke gently, “was she on your ass again about the drafts?”

you nodded, attempting to hide in his arm again, but he stopped you, bringing a hand up to your cheek to wipe your tears.

“I’m just so frustrated and irritated, she makes me feel like i’m always doing everything wrong. i cant stand being treated like im like five years old and incapable of doing my job.” you brought your own sleeve to wipe your nose and eyes, wondering how gerard could see you like this; a sobbing mess, and still think you were the most beautiful thing he’s laid his eyes upon.

“i know baby, i know. why don’t you come sit with me for a bit, I’ll make you some tea and you can just relax for a bit.”

you smiled up at him and nodded gently. he always knew how to comfort you even if it was something so small and ridiculous in your mind.

“okay, come on,” he put his hand in yours and gently guided you over to the couch to sit. when he tried to walk away to turn the tea kettle on, he was stopped by a hand grabbing his sweater.

“stay? just for a little? just wanna hold you, please”

you croaked, lowering your hand.

he smiled gently, black hair falling into his eyes. “okay, yeah. ok i can do that.”

you smiled as he sunk into the couch. immediately, you crawled into his lap as he wrapped his arms around you.

you both stayed like this for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence when you began to feel a bit antsy. moving around every few minutes, hoping gerard wouldn’t notice.

but the truth was, it was hard not to notice what you were doing. squirming more and more as time went on. when you realized gerard was playing dumb, you looked up at him and weakly spoke.

“gee?”

he turned his head to look at you, but he had that sick sly grin on his face. he definitely knew what you were trying to do. but still, he played along, acting all innocent, pretending he didn’t have a clue.

“what’s up?”

you bit your lip, embarrassed to even bring it up, but still you tried, “can we… try something?”

there it was, that smile that he tried (but failed miserably) to hide, gently looking down at you, bringing a hand to your face. “what did you have in mind?”

you were so flustered but were getting to a point where none of that mattered anymore, so gently you said, “like… maybe i could be dominant? push you around, make you beg… just need to let off some steam..”

gerard was failing so hard to keep his composure, all he could muster out was a mere “fuck baby”

you smiled, slowly snaking up to his face and pulling him in for a heated kiss. kissing gerard was usually gentle and slow, but now he seemed desperate, practically begging you without words to push your tongue deeper into his mouth.

he pulled away for a second, hair messy, lips slick with your saliva and his combined. “lets take this to our room?”

you smiled and gently put a hand on his chest, trailing your fingers closer to his obvious bulge.

“yeah, I’d like that”

on the way to the bedroom you two could hardly keep your hands off of each other, gerard grabbing you by the hand and dragging you down the hall only for your lips to collide again as soon as he shut the door.

“gee?” you broke the kiss to say

“yeah baby?”

there was a spark in your eyes as you lowered your head to smile and speak. “go sit on the bed.”

gerard could’ve sworn he felt his dick twitch at that comment, he simply complied. making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge, waiting patiently.

“aw, already being so good baby… but I’m gonna need you to sit all the way on the bed, can you do that for me?”

gerard felt his face turn red, god it was so hot to see you like this, him listening to every command you spoke, not questioning a damn thing. he felt so vulnerable, but god did he love it. you were intoxicating, there was no doubt about that.

and so, he slowly crawled back further onto the bed, groaning at the tight feeling in his jeans.

“sweetheart, please… i need you.”

god he was so needy, you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “did you really think it was gonna be that easy? christ gerard, i haven’t even taken my clothes off and this is how you treat me?”

his eyes widened with anticipation, not knowing what to say next he blurted out,

“mommy, please. im sorry.” he stifled a moan.

fuck. you were done for.

you tried to keep the façade up as you slowly walked over to the bed and began to strip slowly, making sure gerard was watching your every move. and he was, practically fucking you with his eyes.

he moved a hand down to attempt to touch himself but was quickly stopped by your hand attempting to pin his wrist to the bed.

“did I say you could touch yourself?” you growled climbing into his lap, still in your panties.

he turned his face to the side, attempting to avoid eye contact. you were not gonna let him off that easy.

“look at me. did I say you could touch yourself gerard?”

he whined at the pressure of you on his lap and slowly breathed out, “no.. im just. fuck i need you baby. need to be inside of you.”

a slap rang through the room, gerard gently bringing his hand up to his cheek.

“you’re not behaving gerard. good boys wait. and what are you supposed to call me?”

his glossy eyes turned to you as he spoke, “im sorry mommy. i’ve been bad. didn’t mean to-“

you cut him off with a kiss, this time more gentle.

“color?” you asked, gently stroking his cheek.

“green. fuck green” he breathed out

you smiled as you went back to kissing down his neck, slowly grinding down on his lap with each kiss.

gerard really couldn’t be in his pants much longer, and as you pulled away from his neck, he asked quietly, “mommy? can i take my pants off? please…”

you smiled, gently moving to push your leg against the tent that had been growing in his jeans.

that was enough to make gerard whine and moan all over again, attempting to cover his mouth with one of his free hands. you quickly put a stop to this.

“no, wanna hear you baby boy, you’re so pretty. gotta hear you moan while I fuck you.”

his eyes shut tight and hips bucked against your leg as he let out another high pitched moan.

you smiled, slowly unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down but leaving his boxers on. quickly he kicked away his jeans and they were lost to the floor for the third time this week.

pre come leaked in a small patch on his boxers, barely visible underneath the black fabric. you were practically dripping wet at the sight, not once breaking eye contact as you freed his cock from his boxers.

this earned you a small whine from gerard who had his head thrown back against the pillows with labored breathing. you could see sweat glistening on his forehead, wondering how he got worked up so quickly with you.

“gee baby?” you got his attention, tugging on the hem of one of his many band tees that had seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

“mm?” he replied, soft and quiet. god how did you get so lucky.

seconds later, you were pulling the shirt off his head throwing it to the floor along with his boxers. he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in the world. long black locks sticking to his forehead, leftover makeup from nights before.

“c-can you touch me?” he whined, squirming around beneath you.

“i don’t know… you’ve been so so impatient all night. dont know if you deserve it…” you started to trail off.

that really made gerard move beneath you. you could tell he was biting his tongue, holding back from talking back to you again because he knew the consequences.

noticing his movement you slowly dragged your panties off your body. “think you can do something for me baby?” you enquired as he watched you with eager eyes.

“yes, i can do anything for you mommy.” his voice barely audible as he looked up.

“can’t hear you baby…” you gripped your fingers around his throat, giving him a tight squeeze. “speak up, or i’ll just leave you here for another hour.”

his voice was strained as he tried to speak through your hand gripping down on his throat. “please. god please, i’ll do anything, i’m your good boy please.”

you chuckled at his babbling, slowly removing your hand from his throat “so needy…” you said moving your pussy closer to his face. “gonna sit on your face, and if you’re good, i’ll fuck you hard and rough like you like.” you knew the power you held over him right now and you were not going to break character. not when your boyfriend was a sweaty, whiny, mess underneath you. you swore you felt it go straight to your core at the thought,

before he could respond, you lowered yourself onto his face, thighs on both sides of his head, causing him to grip onto your thighs.

“gerard.” you said in a stern tone.

he quickly realized his mistake removing his hands from your body.

“why are you so needy today? you want mommy’s pussy so bad? you have to fucking earn it whore.” you spoke above him before lowering yourself on his face again. he started out slow, small licks from the bottom of your dripping cunt to your clit, sucking hard.

“fuck baby,” you moaned attempting to grind harder down on his face. still, he continued, licking every drop from you, making filthy noises and sucking on your clit in between licks. you were so close, every breath stifling as you sunk further down on him. his tongue plunging deeper and deeper.

gerard could tell you were close, he knew the tell-tale signs of your orgasms like the back of his hand. he sped up, eating you out with so much desperation that it was almost pathetic.

“ah- gerard fuck.”

he stopped for a moment, lightly using his hands to push you off of his face so he could speak. “please cum baby… please, wanna taste you on my tongue, just fucking use me.” before bringing you back to his mouth

you broke, a moaning, overstimulated mess above him as you reached your high, legs shaking as you slowly moved off of his face breathing heavily.

you noticed gerard hadn’t gotten any softer down there, in fact, he looked bothered. the tip of his cock so red and sensitive, pre-come still leaking from the tip. you smiled gently and caressed his cheek. “you did so fucking good for me baby… want me to fuck you? fuck you so hard you can barely think?”

he nodded quickly and sighed out of relief. he needed you so badly.

“fuck me, please. be rough, do whatever you want… just need you now.”

and that's all you needed to hear before sinking down on his cock. still, even if you had been together for almost two years, it was always difficult to adjust to his size. he moaned at the sight of you, throwing his head back and exposing his bare neck. quickly, you wasted no time marking his neck. you knew he loved it when you bit him, licked him and kissed him up and down his neck. always relishing the sweet sounds that came with it. he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, rubbing small circles around your nipples.

you quickly sat up and began to move your hips at an even pace. gerard’s moans filling the room as you bounced up and down on him, not stopping.

for a moment you looked down at him, he was so fucked out it was unbelieveable. you slowly reached your hands down to his neck to choke him again. you felt him go stiff underneath you, letting out a guttural moan from his throat. his eyes grew soft, and although you were in charge, a wave of adoration flooded you as he grabbed your hand and pushed it down harder against his throat.

you picked up the pace again, hands still squeezing his neck tight.

“fuck.. so good..feels so. good.” he babbled beneath you, you could hardly keep your composure at this, that tight knot in your stomach making itself extremely noticeable again.

you moved your hands away from his throat to bring them to his thighs, slapping him as you sped up. you knew he liked it rough, and after the day you had, he told you not to hold back. and that’s exactly what you did.

“gee, m’ so close” you whined, still not slowing down.

“me too- fuck. can we cum together? please? i’ve been good.”

you had to hold yourself from cracking up because he had been anything but good. still, with the state you were both in, you didn’t have the strength to boss him around anymore. you needed release and so did he.

“yes baby, cum for me. do it hard, come for mommy like a good boy…” and it seemed those were the magic words as gerard bucked his hips up in one thrust, and you felt the familiar twitch of him inside of you. you came shortly after, barely able to sit up anymore.

both of you breathing heavily looked at each other and smiled as you slowly climbed off of your boyfriend’s lap, careful not to make too much of a mess.

gerard quickly slid out of bed and grabbed a towel from your shared closet to wipe you down before you had to clean the sheets for the fourth time this week. once he was done he pulled you into his arms, smiling and humming as he looked down at you, almost asleep.

“doing okay?” he asked with a slight hint of concern in his voice.

“yes, more than okay actually” you giggled, bringing his arm around your shoulder. “how about you baby? are you okay?”

“oh god yes,” his cheeks turned upright as he tried to laugh it off, acting like he didn’t have some of the best sex in his life with you.

you smiled into his chest, and although he couldn’t see it, he could feel the curve of your lip pressed against him.

“nap time?” he asked, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“yes, definitely.” you curled back into him and gently dozed off, forgetting about the god-awful day you had.

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