
*Halloween* Scream And Shout. (Frank Iero x Reader)
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Request: @heylaceythepsychic: 'hi! this is probably really late, but could you an imagine of prompt 6, 16 and 22 mixed together with frank (if that's too much, you can just choose any of the three :D) like it's after school, and it's like a grey day and the reader goes with frank in a graveyard, telling scary stories and shit, and ending up scaring themselves shitless in the place. Oh, maybe you could make them go ghost hunting and stuff! gosh, is that too big? hope it's not too late'
Prompt 6: Glum/grey days
Prompt 16: Graveyard
Prompt 22: Scary stories
Note: I left out the ghost-hunting bit; I hope you don't mind. x

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"Hey, beautiful," Frank smirked, smoothly sliding up to your locker and leaning against it in an attempt to look seductive.
"Hi, dork," you retorted, reaching out to ruffle his matted black hair as you closed the locker door.
Frank scowled as he swatted your hand away and tried as best he could to tame his hair, leaving you sniggering as you slung your backpack over your shoulder. After he fixed his hair, he smiled and pulled you closer, leaning in to kiss you; you hastily shoved him away.
"We've got eyes on us," you explained upon seeing his confused expression, and cocked your head slightly down the hallway – in the direction of Mrs Davids' penetrative gaze. She was standing outside her office, legs shoulder-width apart and arms folded as two of her nauseatingly orange-painted fingernails tapped impatiently on her bicep, a glare on her face. Everything about her demeanour indicated that she was waiting for the two of you to show some PDA so that she could call you into her office and lecture you about it.
This woman was the bane of both of your existences; she would constantly go out of her way to try and catch the two of you, even if you weren't doing anything. She once called your parents just to tell them that she caught the two of you holding hands. It was as if she had nothing better to do with her life than try and sabotage your relationship. Frank says it's because she's secretly in love with the both of you and is bitter because she can't have you.
Her attempts to break you up never bothered the two of you – she's just a batshit crazy, menopausal woman – and you never changed the way you and Frank interacted with one another, but you tried to avoid kissing and touching when she was around; getting called into her office on a regular basis is incredibly annoying.
Frank rolled his eyes before turning around and blowing a kiss at the glowering teacher, who in turn pursed her lips and turned up her nose, before turning on her heel and stomping off to wherever.
"Bunk this period with me?" Frank pleaded, brushing your hair out of your face and cupping your cheek.
You laughed. "Right. Don't you remember what happened last time? We had to hide out in the prop room in the auditorium because Davids patrolled the entire campus in search of us."
"Yeah, but this time we won't be on campus."
"What are you talking about, Frankie?" you sighed, shifting your backpack.
"There's this graveyard back on Turner Street. It's very secluded and hardly anyone's ever there, so I thought we could go there and..." he bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made you wheeze in amusement.
"Nice one, Iero," you shook your head at your boyfriend, who gave you one of his signature adorable closed-mouth smiles. "But no."
"Oh, come on," he whined, slouching down in annoyance. "It'll be fun. 'Sides," he shrugged, reaching forward to grab the English notebook from your grasp, "it's last period and you have English. No one will notice if we're gone."
You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your choice. Frank was right; if you didn't show up to English, the old Mr Petersen probably wouldn't notice and if he did, he wouldn't question anyone about it – he was too much of a sweetheart for that. But Frank's teachers were another thing.
"Won't Mrs Naysmith go all insane if you're not in class?" you questioned.
"Already told her that I need to leave early for a doctor's appointment," he beamed proudly, extracting a forged doctor's note from the pocket of his leather jacket, holding it up to show you.
With a sigh and one final glance around the slowly emptying hallway, you nodded.
"Okay," you gave in, bringing a huge smile to Frank's face, "But we need to move quickly."
"Way ahead of ya," he responded as he scooped you up bridal style before dashing out of the exit and to his car, your echoing giggles drifting behind.
~
You deepened the kiss as Frank's hands crept up the side of your abdomen, carefully lifting up the fabric of your shirt, and when he traced his fingertips in light circles on your skin, you involuntarily let out a tiny moan, making him smile against your lips.
He pulled away so that you could get some air and focused his mouth on your neck instead, while his fingers continued caressing you. He nibbled on your sweet spot as he let his hands trail higher, all the way up until he was squeezing your chest.
"Frank," you moaned breathily, touching your palm to his chest and half-heartedly pushing him away, "stop it. I am not having sex in a graveyard."
He sighed, kissing you once more before climbing off of you and tucking your hair behind your air as he brushed away the tiny flecks of dirt on your face. "What do you wanna do?"
You shrugged, twirling your fingers in his hair. "I dunno. Tell me a story."
"A scary one?"
You thought for a minute before nodding. "Yeah. Why not? It's almost Halloween, we're in a graveyard, and this weather," you looked up at the ominous grey clouds floating in the sky, and shivered as a breeze blew, prompting Frank to drape his jacket over you, "practically screams 'horror movie'."
"Okay. I'm gonna tell you a scary story," he shifted so that he was sitting comfortably, "The scariest story of them all. A story so scary, that it freaks me out just thinking about it."
You leaned in and raised your eyebrows, intrigued.
"One day," he started, "a guy convinced his girlfriend to bunk the last period of school and go to a graveyard with him. She agreed, and the guy got all excited, thinking that they could have some alone time – which they hardly ever get. But when they got there, and started making out, the girl was like-"
He shut up once you threw a small pebble at his head. "I meant a real scary story, assbutt."
"Believe me, it's very scary for me," he sassed, rubbing the sore spot on his head. "Hey, how about we play a game? We each try to come up with the shortest, scariest story we can."
"Oooo," you marvelled, "I like that idea!"
"Okay, I'll go first," he cleared his throat, "The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushed her long, rotting nails into my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open."
"Pfft," you chuckled, "Lame."
Frank frowned, folding his arms. "Let's hear yours, then."
"After a hard day at work, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn't know which was more frightening: seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there."
"That's just straight up twisted," Frank shuddered, "But anyway... I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I thought it was the window... until I heard it come from the mirror again."
"I walked into the bathroom one night and looked at myself in the mirror. Only one of us walked out."
"As I was stumbling in the night to get to the bathroom, I felt my dog brush against my leg. But then I heard my dog barking at something else downstairs."
This back and forth of scary stories carried on for the next hour or so, getting more and more unsettling and frightening after each one. Both you and Frank had become scared beyond belief, but neither one of you wanted to stop – you both wanted your story to be the final one. It had gotten darker, and the graveyard was eerily silent, other than your voices. The atmosphere was astonishingly creepy, but despite this, you didn't stop.
Not at your own accord.
"My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help," Frank said. This one freaked you out so much, you went quiet for a little bit.
That's when you heard the screaming.
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Thank you for reading x
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