frerard oneshots

Can't Do This Anymore

Frank looks likes that, he usually will in all my fics and oneshots, bc I fucking love this picture of him -he looks adorable.

Gerard looks like this^^^

[I suck at describing]

the beginning is also clique to the title, but suck my ass, you're welcome i updated.

Btw, I was too lazy to speel check, sorry

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"Gerard, I can't do this anymore," I stated as I wiped the blood off my hands. It started getting dried in my fingernails and it annoyed me to no end.

"What?" He asked as if he hadn't heard me.

"I can't do this anymore," I said weakly, running my fingers through my hair and feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I can't keep helping you kill people. This is sick, I can't take it anymore." I was so tired of this. Every day, usually. But the constant smell of blood that reeked out clothes everytime I washed the clothes was soon becoming sickening. I was becoming so pathetic. So tired.

"Frank-"

"I don't-"

"Frankie, Baby-" He murmured as he started walking over to me. He almost sounded annoyed. But I was so fed up by that point, I didn't even care.

"Don't!" I said, hitting his hands away that were still covered in blood. It was dried and cracked all over his hands and it made me sick. It made my stomach turn and I wanted to puke at the sight.

"Okay, okay," He hissed, backing up. "Let's just go home."

Let's just go home and forget about this. Forget about what just happened. I can't keep doing that. It racks me off and makes me uncomfortable that we don't confess or talk about how wrong it is to be killing people on a regular basis like this.

"Are we gonna talk about this?" I asked nervously as he started walking away. I knew Gerard well enough to know he got pissed off easily and never had any patience. If I mentioned it he'd storm out and not want to talk about it, no matter how bad we need to. When he was done, he was done -he was tired. Didn't want to deal with anyone. I dont know how many times I've made him sleep on the couch because he was being an asshole.

He sighed before calmy replying a "yes", still not turning around to look at me.

He continued walking and I followed him out to the car. Being careful not to step in the blood and leave tracks. I almost wanted to. Sometimes I wish Gerard would get caught, but he... we never did. I just wanted it to end. He only does this to get money. People hire him so he can kill the people they hate. And he gets paid a lot. Which is why we have an average, comfy house.

"Look... I'm sorry," Gerard said as he glanced over at me, the street light shining through.

"You say that everytime, Gerard," I said lazily, looking away.