Frank Iero x Reader Oneshots

✘"Two of Swords | F.I. x Reader

(A/n)

Requested on Tumblr

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"I had been thinking about a bullet or a dagger instead, but I think the sword looks really good." A sigh escapes my lips as I lean back against the bed, glancing at the TV neglected in the background, trying to avert my a little of my attention away from the continuous stinging. The pain isn't significant, for sure, but to sit in the same position for a long time with the almost incessant sensation of the needle sinking into the skin... isn't exactly comfortable.

"The good thing is that it matches mine." Frank's lips curl into a smile as he glances at me through his eyelashes, moving his forearm a little as to motion the tattoo I gave him a couple of days ago, right above a fresh one that's a rose from earlier today. He wets his lips as he shifts a little, gloved hand adjusting its grip around my forearm so he can take it on after he dips the needle in the ink again, the small glass sitting on the floor a little away from us, within a safe distance from the carpet. Some of Frank's strands fall over his eyes, so I pull them away, hooking them behind his ear so he won't need to interrupt himself again, and receive a quiet hum in response.

My heart flutters with how Frank pouts a little and furrows his eyebrows, moving my forearm a little so he can get a better angle, which makes a small smile tugs on his lips. Sometimes I long to have his lips pressed against mine, kissing me—not an accidental peck when kissing each other's cheek or having our lips pressed together when he has his face pressed to mine, but not kissing.

"Done!" Frank brings me back to reality, leaning back with a sigh. "Looks pretty good, in my opinion." He puts the needle aside and gently taps the fresh tattoo with a damp paper towel. Well, not actually so gently—I gasp, tugging my arm back because he presses down on the skin a little too harshly. "Oh, fuck, that hurt? 'M so sorry."

"It's okay!" I try to smile despite the grimace still pulling at my face a little due to the lingering sore sensation.

"Of course it's not okay, c'mon, let me kiss it better!" And before I can say anything, Frank is bringing my arm closer and plants a kiss next to the tattoo. "Better?" As much as I do try to answer him while he looks at me with that stupid smile of his, the words just stop in my throat, instead giving place to the warmth that apreads across my cheeks. Maybe he gets the wrong idea, though, frowning and tilting his head. "What?"

"Nothing." I shake my head. "It did turn out pretty, though."

"Yeah, thank you," he hums, letting go of me so he can scoot closer. "But what's it?"

"Frank. Nothing!"

"(Y/n), I know you," Frank groans with a whine, pressing his face to mine like he sometimes does, nose digging into my cheek and forehead pressed to mine. He has a hand on the ground, by my hip, trapping me between him and the side of the bed. "Tell me your secrets."

"You don't know me if you need me to tell you my secrets." I roll my eyes, but my mind is actually somewhere else. Do I want him to pull away or not? It's nice to have him this close—I can smell the drinks from earlier in his breath and the lip gloss that he already removed, but was messing with earlier—, but not like this. "Frank...?"

Frank only hums quietly in response, sounding distant. He pulls away, however, the cold air uncomfortably replacing where our faces came into contact... only for him to press his lips to mine instead, sighing softly as he kisses me even if I don't return it at first. I mean, is he just fooling around or is it for real? Well, most importantly, it doesn't matter. He hums softly, deepening the kiss as I start to kiss back, and it has a feeling stirring in my stomach, even more with how this can possibly fuck me up later.