Frank Iero x Reader Oneshots

Dolce Vendetta | Mafia! AU

(A/n)

I'm a sucker for mafia, y'all gotta understand this >:')))
also, haha, of course this isn't inspired off Peaky Blinders, please stop getting wrong ideas *sweats nervously*
here's an sketch of a story

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Small Heath, Birmingham, England - 1920s

"And you're from where, exactly?" Frank asks with that mysterious tone, almost like if in trance with me. His eyes demonstrate certain admiration towards me as his hazel irises observe me from under his eyelashes, trying to not demonstrate it completely how he already grew found of me, even though after a single previous encounter in Ray's distillery. "You're from the USA."

"Well, yes. I've come from there." I breathe a chuckle, taking a seat over the desk he sits behind - he adjusts a bit his posture after I do that, what's funny. "But it doesn't mean I was born there, either." He sucks in a breathe to say something, however, I quickly continue, "my accent is due to living with the Ways for so long and coming from New Jersey with them. It's been some great few years since we moved, as you probably know, but I guess talking between each other was enough to keep our accent like this." I smile, watching him slowly nodding. 

He slowly nods, tapping his fingers against the table, resulting in a muffled quiet sound that fills the room among all the faint chatter and urban noises coming from outside the hotel. The atmosphere is kinda heavy with all the unexpressed feelings. We eye each other with the same entertainment, but expressing it in different manners.

"Are you a Demolition Lover," he asks suddenly, stopping his motions with his hand to fidget with the rings around his fingers.

"No, but kinda." I answer with certain excitement, loving to see the confusion in people's faces whenever I tell them this. "I'm very close to them, yeah, we've been together even before the war and I've known Toro for quite a long time too. I refuse to go on too further in the family's business, on the other hand." I finish, narrowing my eyes lightly at him, "and why are you asking me this while you already know all of it? I know you're not anyone, signor Iero," forcing an Italian accent, I chuckle seeing him shaking his head at that.

"Yes, but you're not anyone either." With his eyes falling to his hands, Frank's mood changes - his smirk gains a playful tinge while he removes one of his rings, playing with it for a few seconds before slipping it in a finger of the other hand. "And I would like to know you better." His gaze turns up to me in an intentional charming manner and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't have an effect on me. "You wouldn't be betraying anyone if you're not part of a gang, hm?"

"What exactly makes you think I'm not part of a family?" I ask in the same tone, showing him I'm far from intimidated, unlike most of the others. "There would be a certain betrayal. I would be hanging out with the one who shot my friend, who's almost like a sibling to me."

An agonizing feeling hovers on his features, letting him frozen with his lips slightly parted for a second before he snaps out of it and replies. "And I'd be hanging out with the one who shot my father," there's a bitter humor on his words and I don't judge, turning my face away from him. He lets out a victorious hum.

"It wouldn't be apart from my vendetta, hm? You're not in my aim, anyways. What do you say? I let you, Mikey and Donna live if you get me Gerard," he says while making a few hand motions, momentarily drawing my attention towards the tattoos on his fingers. "Iero's leader dead, Way's leader dead. Equal for both sides."

I let my eyes linger over his tattoos, feeding his ego in exchange for a few seconds of thinking. Exhaling, I hop off the table, turning to face him, "well, we'll see about that. Convince me, Frank Iero."