Frank Iero x Reader Oneshots

Dramatic is an understatement | F.I. x Reader

(A/n)

Suggested by xxMidnightBloodxx

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Frank stands beside me and I can see him nibbling down on his thumb by the corner of my eye, eyes averting from me to the microwave, watching the pot spin continuously behind the glass and the glowing numbers slowly coming closer to zero. A smile threatens to tug on my lips, but I suppress it, adjusting my position back against the counter.

"Questioning your choices?" I raise an eyebrow at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close.

"No." Frank shakes his head, sending his dark blonde strands flying lightly. Cute.

I wrap my arms around him to pull him closer, nuzzling him softly – he leans into my touch, but is soon sighing at having to pull away when the microwave starts beeping and I move to turn it off. "Go to the bedroom," I tell him, glancing back, "I'll be over in a sec."

"'Kay," he mutters quietly before I can hear his footsteps up the stairs, bare feet against the ground.

Frank is already sitting on the bed with pillows between his back and the headboard when I walk in the bedroom, his oversized, deep green shirt falls over the top of his exposed thighs, just enough to show a little bit of the red boxers. He tugs on the hem of the shirt, pulling it more upwards.

"Just tell me if it's too bad, okay?" I take a seat next to him and Frank nods, nibbling on his bottom lip lightly as he watches me still stirring the wax, coming to a momentary pause to adjust his leg beside me. Taking a last glance at Frank, I grab the spatula and spread the wax over his leg, watching him tense up under my touch and his skin rise with a shiver.

My hand wraps around Frank's thigh for a brief moment, only giving him a reassuring squeeze before I'm grabbing the paper and pressing it to the still warm wax.

"Ready?" I raise an eyebrow at him and despite nodding, Frank's hands are clenched around the sheets, knuckles almost white, so I observe him for a longer moment. When no further response comes from Frank, I turn my attention to the wax and wait for it to cool down before pulling on it – nothing but a gasp comes from him along with a reassurance that he's alright, rushing me to continue.

Everything goes well, but pulling one of the paper strips near his knee has Frank kicking me. Of course it's out of reflex, but still earns himself a look from me as I try to figure out if he's genuinely alright; his cheeks burn red. "'M sorry." He offers a grin.

"Sure." I narrow my eyes and crack a smile, moving on to continue what I was doing.

Frank's complaints start when I'm going up his thigh, however, they manage to get worse after I tell him to get on his stomach.

"It hurts," he whines, almost kicking me again.

"Not me who decided it'd be a good idea to wax their legs!" A sigh escapes my lips as I mostly focus on what I'm doing while trying to keep Frank's leg down. "I said I can stop whenever you want."

"I'm not saying you should stop," he sighs, "I'm just saying it h–" He interrupts himself with a weak cry that becomes muffled by the pillow he hugs.

"It'll be over soon, okay?" I chuckle softly.

"Fuck– No, c'mon," Frank suddenly groans after I'm applying more of the wax. "This is the last part you're waxing, I feel like you're skinning me, holy shit, (y/n)." And there went all he could handle without making any drama – I roll my eyes, only continuing to work on the back of his leg. "(Y/n), don't you love me? Oh fucking hell, (y/n), I'll die!"

And Frank just continues talking, not shutting up and I'd perfectly go along with it and ignore him like in any other situation he decides to throw a tantrum, but it doesn't happen the same when I want to finish things quick and he keeps preventing me from doing so.

"Frank," I breathe, finally pulling on the last strip, snatching a string of curses from Frank. "It's done, you dumbass. I've finished. My baby. Torture session is over."

Maybe Frank says something, something that turns out incoherent, more like a relieved but still annoyed groan as he continues burying his face in the pillow. I smile softly, bringing the shirt up lightly so I can press a kiss to his back.

"Shower, now," I say softly, running my hand over his sticky legs.

Of course Frank can't do it by himself and I need to practically carry him to the bathroom, leaving again to come back with clean clothes for him.

"You cool?" I peek in, pulling on the curtain enough to see the grumpy Frank there. He looks at me, bottom lip sticking out, and nods, continuing his shower. "How do your legs feel?"

Frank glares at me, though a complaint never escapes his lips – instead, he exhales and looks down for a moment, nodding to himself. "Very good, very smooth. I can feel the water hitting them directly and it's so weird, but so good." He runs a hand over a leg and I can't help but to chuckle.

"See? Didn't need to be so bitchy about it all."

"Feeling good now doesn't annulate the fact it felt like hell until some minutes ago," he mumbles, face falling into a grumpy pout again.

"C'mon," I rush him, shaking my head, "finish your shower so we can go cuddle, hm? How does that sound?"

His eyes lighten up at my words and he's quickly nodding, smiling. "I'll be out in a moment."

A smile still tugs on my lips as I move back to our bedroom, throwing on some comfortable clothes, though my peace doesn't last for long and Frank's calling me once again. "Help me dry and dress up." He grins, holding out his arms lightly.

"Why should I?" I take a look at him from head to foot, exaggeratedly.

He raises his eyebrows, gasping. "Don't I deserve it after almost dying?"

As much as I want to remain serious, I end up bursting out laughing at his manners, moving to help him already because I know Frank enough to be aware he'd prefer freezing to death rather than give up. He leans into me as I wrap the towel around him, giving his cheek a kiss. "No, but I'm nice," I tease and don't give him much attention, just grabbing his clothes while he finishes drying up.

"Sure," Frank hums, slipping on the boxers then an oversized Metallica shirt. "Now I get cuddling, right?" He raises an eyebrow at me, tilting his head. "Or are you going to be evil again?"

I scoff. "Stop complaining and let's go to bed, baby." His hand is warm when I take it in mine, giving me a light squeeze before I'm pulling him out of the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door behind us.

Being in bed after a long day feels extra comfortable, immediately relaxing me. I make myself comfortable under the covers and pull Frank closer, spooning him – a quiet sound comes from him at first, maybe surprised, and he quickly falls silent, relaxing under my touch with his hands over mine.

I bury my face in the back of Frank's neck, pulling the strands of hair away lightly and letting my nose rest against the skin, taking in the soft and nice smell. He hums with it, practically melting under my touch. "'Love you," he says, a quiet and tired whisper.

"And I love you." I press a kiss to his neck, holding him closer.

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