A Lifetime with a Demon | Frank Iero x Reader

⛧For the feelings⛧

Frank blinks a couple of times, watching me sit down on the edge of the bed and place everything I need in front of me. His lips are pressed shut and eyes wide, following every movement whilst most likely holding himself back from asking a question every five seconds like he was doing moments ago.

"My baby, love of my life." I smile, cupping his face to pull him for a kiss – he kisses back softly, humming against my lips. "Close your eyes."

Frank is still looking at me when I move to get the palette in hand, but closes his eyes before I can turn back to him. He exhales, resting his hands across his torso. I pause for a moment, only observing him there and... I don't even know what I feel. Maybe it's love at its finest, filling my lungs to the point it even hurts to breathe, or the contentment for having him here and I don't want to ever leave him again, only to spend my days spoiling him or just enjoying his presence and craving someone like this feels so wrong.

The until now peaceful eyelids tremble at the touch of the makeup brush against one of them, spreading the pastel purple color smoothly over it before being joined by a seafoam green tone on the areas closer to his nose.

"Keep your eyes closed," I tell him, seeing his eyes threatening to open after I pull away, quickly returning with the eyeliner pen. "Try not to get your eyes twitching." And it happens the exact moment the tip of the pen touches his skin, startling him a bit, though thankfully not smudging anything – I have to hold back a halfhearted chuckle.

"'M sorry," he mutters, sighing.

"That's fine," I mutter and press a kiss to his head and resume my work, trying my best to follow his eyelashes on the upper lid with the eyeliner. "Never had anyone do your makeup?"

"Not like this," he whispers.

I follow along to his temple then come back, telling him to look up so I can draw on the space under his eye. Only a few more details and done – I repeat it to his other eye and there they are, butterfly wings eyeliner. As much as I want to tell him now how beautiful he looks, I hold myself back, knowing how it'll just make Frank more anxious.

The only other struggle I have with Frank is keeping him from licking the gloss away from his lips, scolding him whenever seeing his tongue poking between his lips, and keeping myself from laughing at him is hard.

In the due time, I've also got makeup on and we're both dressed up in pretty clothes, matching the house's aesthetic. Frank looks so beautiful – the makeup doesn't fall unnatural on his features, only giving him certain delicacy, also somehow suiting the white shirt he wears, which has lace by the ends of the sleeves and is held around his hips to the bottom of his chest, matching his black pants and boots. My own clothes don't escape the vibe either, though matching more my style.

Something that never crossed my mind before was sitting in the back garden, at a nice and detailed table, eating foods and drinking beverages we prepared earlier and sort of pretending we're in a vintage movie. I don't really remember how we came up with this idea, specifically, after a few minutes discussing how we could spend our time together without leaving the place.

Frank sips on the tea, the dark liquid visible through the clear cup which meets the heart shaped saucer with a clink sound when he lowers it, reaching for a macaron.

"I kinda feel stupid," he confesses suddenly with a sigh, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"I... Dunno. We're sitting here like this, all dressed up for... for nothing," Frank mumbles, eyes never meeting mine, absentmindedly tracing the table cloth's lace pattern with his index finger. He takes a bite of the macaron and I wait for him to continue. "It's just us. Do we need to dress up for ourselves?" He tilts his head. "It's weird."