Bad Blood. (Gerard Way x Reader)

22: Drugstore Perfume

~saturday~

"So, whatchu guys wanna do today?" Frank scooped some cereal into his mouth. He got some 'errs' and 'umms' but no real answers. "well, how about we go to the skate park?" I look around at everyone. No one could come up with anything better, so we decided on skating. "Well, i'm going to go change then." I scooted out of my chair. "Gerard?" He looked up at me. "C'mon." I motioned for him to follow, and he accommodates.

"Uhh, why'd I need to come?" He fastens the door shut.

"Well, you have a somewhat good sense of style and I need help picking out an outfit."

"Dude. We have sex, but i'm not your fucking fashion designer." He taps his foot. "Ooh, but if you don't do this then you're not getting that first part."

"Alrighty then, what's your size again?" He opens his closet doors. "That's the spirit." I pat his back. "Medium."

"Great."

~^~^~^~^~^~

After some trials and errors, some shouting over whether I look good in oversized shirts (i dont by the way, but he disagrees.), and some band shirts and eyeliner, I finally pick out an outfit.

White button up collared long sleeve under a Misfits t shirt, tucked into black faded cargo pants, and a studded belt. Oh, and a red tie over that. Mostly to look like avril lavigne, and also he has fucking THOUSANDS of them. Fucking weirdo.

"You look... interesting." He takes a long pause. "Oh fuck off, I'm just emo." I roll my eyes. "Whatever. as long as you still let me fuck you." He stands back up next to me. "Not with that attitude there." He grabs my waist, and I boop his nose. What's new? Im immature.

"C'mon, let's go back downstairs and show Mikey what he's missing." He lets me out of his grasp. "Hey woah, i'm a bitch not mean." I raise my eyebrows. "Hmm, i think you're a healthy mix of both."

He has a point there.

Walking downstairs, my doc martens get louder with every step. "My god, you're so over dramatic that even your shoes need attention at all times." He stops mid step. "You are so close to losing the privilege of sex, you have no idea." I turn back to him. "Alright alright, i'll stop i'll stop.."

Getting downstairs, they're all in the living room. "Y/n, you look like a rip off avril lavigne." Frank turns around on his seat. "That's exactly what I just said!" I crash down next to him.

"I think it looks nice." Ray chimes in. "Thank you, Ray." I air-highfive him. "Okay, let's go before this gets any weirder." Gerard slings me over his shoulder. "If you don't put me the fuck down I will hit you!" I kick vigorously. "Ooh, so scared." He does fake jazz hands. "Fine then, have it your way." I smirk to myself, and kick him in the balls. "Dude, what the FU-" He falls to his knees. "No way, that's my job y/n!" Frank comes sprinting over to us. "Oh YEAH.." I stroke my fake beard. "Okay, hear me out, nobody kicks anybody in the balls for the rest of the day?" Mikey grabs Gerards hand and helps him up. "Can't promise that Mikey." I click my tongue. "Fine, as long as it's not me." He scoffs, and climbs to the backseat. "Okay, but how bout nobody kicks anyone else today." Gerard's voice is still strained. "Whatever fuckwad." I open the passenger door. "Where do you even come up with your nicknames anymore?" He makes sure everyones in the car, and starts to speed off. "I think theirs just a generator in the back of my mind, honestly."

He rolls his eyes at my childish response.

"Hey, you're just mad that the only nickname you say is from Jetset life and is overused to the point where fanfic readers cringe at the word." I cross my arms, and look him up and down. "I have more nicknames then 'Sugar', you know." He keeps his eyes steadied on the road ahead. "Oh yeah? Like what?"