❥ ּ֯ ┆Gerard Way ᵎᵎ

ʙᴇʟʟᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ, ɴᴊ 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟰

───── .✦

The night had deepened into its darkest hours. Streets outside lay empty, windows were nothing but squares of blackness, and even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb the stillness. The rest of the neighbourhood had gone to sleep hours ago. But your boyfriend, Gerard’s place—specifically his mother’s—was very much alive. A gentle amber light spilled through the basement window, its brightness cutting through the shadows gathered around the house and pooling across the mowed grass outside. It wasn’t a usual sight - Gerard never slept, he was practically nocturnal at this point. Inside, his bedroom looked as though it had been lived in without ever being tidied. Unwashed clothes lay scattered across the floor, empty cans of beer and energy drinks crowded his desk, and his dusty bookshelves were stacked with comic books. The air was heavy and stale, carrying the faint scent of old laundry, cigarette ash and Gerard’s sour musk. You’d adapted to these conditions, the cluttered space becoming far too familiar to you.

You were laid flat on your stomach on his mattress, your legs entirely bare from the hip down, wearing only a pair of thin cotton underwear. Your elbows propping you up as either side of your jaw rested in your hands. Your feet swayed lazily behind you, occasionally kicking at the air while you watched Gerard lean forward in his chair, completely absorbed in the game he was playing. A cheap plastic headset rested crookedly over his ears, his greasy fringe swept out of his forehead, its microphone jutting toward his mouth on a slightly loose hing that wobbled whenever he moved. Clearly they’d seen better days. He was also on an active call with his friends: Frank, Ray and Bob, and little brother, Mikey - even though they lived just a floor apart. Though obviously, you weren’t paying much attention to the video game itself. Instead, you found yourself gazing at him—the slight furrow in his brow whenever he focused, the grin that bloomed across his face after he won a match, and the way he laughed into his microphone. Suddenly, you were totally fixated on his profile - you couldn’t look away.

Gerard was seriously locked in, so naturally, he wasn’t giving you much acknowledgement. Every passing minute stretched a little longer than the last. You didn’t want to distract him, but you couldn’t stop wishing he’d finish what he was doing and use his fingers on you, not a controller. The longer you eyed him, suddenly the noise of Gerard’s console faded into nothing but a muffled hum and a faint flush spread up your neck, flaring your cheekbones - you felt your skin tingle at the heat coursing through you. No matter how hard you tried composing yourself, it was useless; a liquid warmth bloomed deep in your lower stomach, making your breath hitch and shift your weight ever so slightly. Gerard must’ve noticed the movement out the corner of his eye. Although it was brief, he glanced over at you, offering you a quick but affectionate smile; it was the first contact you’d had in 20 minutes. And it pushed you over the edge.

You swung your bare legs over the edge of his bed and lowered yourself onto the floorboards without a sound - not that he could hear you anyway. You then descended onto your hands and knees, inch by inch you crawled beneath his desk until the dim, tight little space enclosed you. Trying not to hit your head on the wooden frame above you, you positioned yourself on your knees and shuffled into the gap between his legs. Gerard had certainly realised - he was instantly hyper-aware of your every movement. Your fingers worked at the metal buckle before yanking his leather belt loose in one smooth motion. Soon enough, his jeans were bunched at his ankles and Gerard’s entire body had gone stiff. His shoulders hunched, his fingers trembled as he continued playing his match - like nothing was going on. Your fingertips hooked under the waistband of his Starwars boxers, jerking the fabric down until his erect cock sprung free, slapping his pudgy lower stomach as he swallowed back a whimper. He was hard just at the mere thought of what you were about to do to him.

"M-mama… st-o-op.." he whispered, his voice so quiet it was barely even audible as he glimpsed down at you, eyes glassy and drooped. Of course, that wasn’t happening - you weren’t stopping any time soon. And Gerard knew that.

You ran your tongue along his head, licking up the bead of pre-cum seeping from his shaft. His thick thighs quivered, and a soft sigh slipped past Gerard’s lips. Immediately, he smacked his palm over his mouth, fingertips curling into his hot cheek tighter and tighter. He thought you were teasing him - such was normally torture, but then you took his length into the humid dampness of your mouth. Your tongue whirled around his dick, head moving in a steady, maddening back and forth motion. Your throat expanded to take every inch of him, his tip poking the back of your throat in sync with every suck. His thick thighs clamped and shook against your temples, trapping you in your position. Gerard wasn’t just breathing anymore; he was panting breathlessly, his heavy exhalations slipping past the gaps between his fingers and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Still, he wasn’t willing to face the embarrassment of his friends hearing him whining and moaning like a little bitch. He spoke into his microphone as regularly and clearly as possible, chuckled at jokes, somehow still winning matches. Lock in of the century.

Only a couple agonising minutes later did his act completely shatter. He tried—he really did try—to hold back as long as he could. He purposefully withdrew his release just in case his buddies and little brother overheard and made fun of him for the rest of the night. But he couldn’t keep it up forever, he was slowly losing all control. His complexion reddened to a deep, feverish pink from the sheer intensity of his arousal. Finally, he felt his limbs go rigid and his jaw hung open, a strangled cry dying in his throat as he neared his climax - he was so, so incredibly close. His plump hips gave one final, massive, uncontrolled thrust, driving himself as deep into your mouth as he could. In the midst of a calculated giggle, a loud, long, broken moan tore from his lungs as he hit his limit, his viscous, hefty ropes of cum exploding into your mouth, pulsating rhythmically against your throat as he shuddered through a violent, toe-curling orgasm.

"Aaahhhuggg, fuuuhh-! M-mo-mmyy! O-oh, mommy! Oh s-hit!" he screamed in a desperate, winded rasp, his voice cracking. His neck went limp, head lolling backward, eyelids squeezed shut as he took laboured, shallow gasps for air. Unfortunately… his microphone was turned on. And he hadn’t even realised it.

"The fuck was that, dude? Was that a dying cow or somethin'?" Ray’s voice came through the headset. Frank, Mikey and Bob howled in unison ruthlessly, snickering and laughing at whatever the hell that noise was. They had no idea what ordeal Gerard went through.