Emo Trinity x Reader

Mikey Way x Reader - Leagues

"Sorry, I'm so sorry, sorry, are you okay," he babbled incoherently, his cheeks burning.

You had hardly realized what happened, only that two big hands were securely holding your upper arms, saving you from falling to the floor.

"I'm fine, thanks," you mumbled, looking up into brilliant hazel eyes that scanned you worriedly and almost... afraid.

"I- I didn't mean to- ahm- he- yeah, sorry again," Mikey sputtered, letting go of your arms and waving around helplessly, pointing at Frank, trying to explain the situation.

"It's okay..." you tried to tell the nervous boy, but he had already turned around and quickly disappeared around a corner.

~*~

You could barely concentrate in music class that day. Mikey was sitting at the other end of the room, absentmindedly picking the strings of an electric bass that was not plucked in, and you were dying to hear what he was playing.

So you took all the courage you could summon and walked over to him. At first he did not notice you, too focused was he on playing a little tune you immediately liked. But then, out of nowhere, Frank popped up at his side.

"Hello there," he winked at you, making you roll your eyes, and Mikey look up.

He was obviously surprised to see you standing right in front of him and his cheeks reddened at the same time as yours once your eyes met.

"That sounded really good," you complimented, deciding to ignore Frank's comment.

"Thanks," Mikey whispered almost inaudibly.

"He wrote it for a girl," Frank added knowingly.

Mikey shot him an angry glare that you did not see, instead your heart sank a little.

"Oh," you managed to get out, trying not to sound too disappointed, but that failed terribly. "She's a lucky girl to get songs written about her."

"It's not a good song, so..." Mikey tried to explain, hoping that this would somehow not end up with him accidently confessing his feelings for her.

"I think it's good," you disagreed, "and even if it wasn't, it's still very special and incredibly valuable."

"You think so," Mikey asked, not yet allowing himself to hope that he might actually have done something that could impress you, you of all people.

"Of course! It's something really personal, and it takes a lot of time and talent to write a song, or even just a melody," you explained, trying to make him understand how much you adored his work.

"You think I'm talented," Mikey asked with wide eyes, completely forgetting what Frank had just told him this morning; you were out of his league.

"Hell yes! That melody just right there was so beautiful, and dude, have you seen your art? It's so gorgeous," you told him excitedly, fully aware that you sounded like an excited fangirl.

"Thank you," Mikey grinned.

For a moment you just stared at each other, and it felt like you had finally made a connection to the quiet boy you had been admiring from afar for almost a year now.

"The song is a really romantic gesture," you finally said, breaking the silence, "I'm sure she'll love it."

"Really," Mikey asked, deciding that he had waited long enough.

"Totally, she is really lucky to have you," you answered, suddenly feeling sad again. You really hoped she was good to him. He deserved to be happy.

"Well," Mikey hesitated, but then grabbed the notebook that had fallen shut next to his feet. He lifted it up and turned the pages until he had reached the one with the chords to the song he had been playing. He ripped out the page and folded it in half, handing the paper to you.

Confused you took the page out of his hand, and with a quick glance at Mikey you unfolded it again. Neat handwriting covered the page, lines of a song written down in tiny letters with chords for the bass written above it. You scanned the lyrics, a song about how the boy thought there was nothing he could do to gain the girl's attention because she was too good for him, from a rich family while he was the son of workers. Only then her eyes caught the title. 'For (Y/n)'.

Her breath caught in her throat as she read the title again and again, not realizing how nervous Mikey grew with every passing second.

"This is- this is so not true," you finally breathed, looking up from the paper in your hand, "It so doesn't matter who our parents are, or how much they earn or how big the houses are we live in, Mikey. And I am not, I repeat, not 'too good for you' or 'out of your league' because I don't believe in that bullshit and also it would be really rubbish because I like you at least as much as you say in this song that you like me, and I really, really want to prove you wrong on the 'not worthy of your love' part."

Mikey stared at you, still nervously holding his breath but with each second he felt like a weight was falling off his shoulders until he was feather light.

"Does that mean-"

"I like you, a lot," you answered his question before he had finished it.

"Oh," he mouthed.

"Don't be so surprised, what is there not to like," you laughed, feeling relieved to have finally admitted to your feelings for him.

"Uhm, a lot," Mikey answered, still nervous and unable to believe he was not dreaming, "the glasses, the hair, the mouth..."

You shook your head.

"Your glasses are really cute, your hair," you ran your fingers through the brown locks Frank had messed up earlier, "are super silky and your mouth," you could not help the smile on your lips as you leant down to press them against Mikey's who was still sitting with the bass in his lap, "are really, really soft."

You leant back up and watched as a big grin appeared on Mikey's face.

"Wow," he whispered.

"Yeah, wow, pretty soft lips indeed," you chuckled.

"No, I mean-" Mikey put the bass aside and stood up, placing his hand on your cheek and gently pulling your face closer to his again, "this."

He kissed you again, gently, without pressure and your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

"Hey guys, that was really, really kitschy, just so you know," Frank commented from next to you, having watched the whole time.

"Shut up," Mikey giggled, not finding it in himto care that Frank had seen everything. At least he had proven him wrong, youwere not out of his league, because there was no such thing as leagues.