Yeah fuck you (in a lovely lovely lovely way mama trust me) this is mostly a joke but if you post it I will be over the fuckin moon. Ignore me if this is too stupid. Reader, cool and tattooed, and has a lovely tramp stamp. And bullets Frankie, eats it up. Practically cums at the thought of it. Thinks it's the hottest thing ever. Back shots are of course a must. Uh. Yeah. Anyways been here for to long gotta sleep I'm half fuckin awake good night mama kisses !!! Thank you thank youuuu!!!
hi baby,
how you doing? missing you, as always.
this is so not something I wanted. or enjoy writing. or anything. (im lying. im so obviously lying baby get real.) yeah, anyway.
kisses my darling, be good.
xox
its not a bad dive bar- its cute. your friends are off, dancing around on tables near the front of the bar- the music just awful enough to make you guys laugh and dance at the same time.
he texted that he was going out. and look, a crush is something you can deal with, easy. you've had one million and one before. but he's different. energetic and charming- funny and ridiculous. he's so talented, passionate. and he is so fucking hot it actually hurts a little to look at him sometimes. you came to the bar, not because of him, but in spite of him. better to feel like you could get your mind off the over whelming amount of love you have for the boy.
you lean over the bar-top- let the guy serving flirt with you as he looks at your exposed shoulder, you hair sweeping around you face in the "im soo not planning on seeing the guy I like today" blow out you worked 20 minutes perfecting.
you hear him enter the room, hear his friends laughing as they joke around. Mia comes over and hushes for you to 'keep cool', as if you don't talk about him for around 50 minutes a day. when he comes over, you flip your body so your back faces him. and listen, he's seen outfits. but not this one. this one is specific.
low rise trousers, off the shoulder black tee with a slight rise in the back. the tattoo is obvious. too easy to see, like a bullseye on the centre of your lower back. the word discipline spelled out in neat cursive. he can see the other tattoos you have littered around your body like this too. ornamental, floral. feminine. powerful. they make you feel that way too. you keep a calm- straight face. let yourself, hopefully, be gawked at. you here ray drop a holy fucking shit man- look , you hear frankie pause. and its cute- but yeah you get a little nervous as the bar tender in front of you offers you his number a bit too loudly.
frank rushes to your side. eyes dropping to your lower back. he growls, nearly whimpering out a "hey-hey can we chat just- do you- need, need a smoke?" and you nod over, smiling down at him. he is a little guy anyhow. sure frank-like-like now? "yeah uh- rightthefucknow-"
he grabs your hand and tugs you through the crowds of people. out into the alley between between this dive and the one next to it- "hey uh, what the fuck is this?" you look around, look down at yourself. shake your head uhh-what? "the, the-you did not tell me you had-uh-th-tha-" the tattoo? "yeah, you're like. like covered.- the uh-" the tramp stamp, frankie? "yeah actually- what the fuck-"
he moves over too you so quickly it feels like a sprint-flips you around so your facing away from him-your hands pressed into the wall. he runs a thumb along the tattoo- tracing the scarred ink with his thumb. you can hear his breathing speed up, you can feel the alcohol flushing you system- his touch rushing along the process of your face increasing in shades of red. "baby, you can-cant do this too me-"
you don't feel like saying anything, standing up for yourself- you just want. you've wanted this- him for so long it has started to feel like a pain in your spine. you nod into the wall get-get the fucking hint, frank.
and he laughs soft behind you, grips the side of your waist tight- and kisses down the exposed skin of your shoulder- the pale form with black dancer-ly marks all over it. "my-my car is parked a, a minute away-" you nod. you nod again and again and again.
your jacket is pressed into the window- a make shift shield. his breath fogs the air in short breaths, it's cold out. his hands feel so warm its like kissing a candle. he bucks in and out of you- one hand under your lower stomach to feel you- the other lands a hit down on your backside, laughing to himself- that the tattoo is basically "a fucking instruction." you moan his name on repeat like knocking a buzzer- he's perfect, panting out sweet whimpers like he's locked into you, into only you.
you feel in control, in charge- you feel like you would let him do anything. because fuck does it feel so good to have his cock hit you ridiculously deep- his thrusts get messy- voice gets drowsier as he moans "babybaby-baby fuck this- you're mine now alright? just- just frank's baby-fuckfuck, let me- fuck gonna mark this-this fuckin whorish-tattoo-show-fuck show me its mine-baby-babyfuck-not gonna let anyone have you-"
he pulls out just before finishing, you let him push your head into the bottom seats as he sprays himself over the back of you. you whisper frank, I-was you-yours already- and you hear him smile, whisper to himself "thank god" and he sits in the car with ease.
When you went to the show you never thought this was going to happen. Never thought that the guitarist from your favorite band would notice you. It happened faster than you can comprehend. One minute you were against the barrier, singing along to the songs. Then the next you were alone with Frank in the tour bus. His hand wrapped around your neck as he devoured you. His tongue exploring every inch of your mouth
Frank's hand tightened around your neck, as you let out a strangle when. Frank used his other hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped for air as Frank pulled his lips away from yours. “Feel what you do to me princess.” Frank said. Putting his hands on your hips, guiding you to grind against him. You let out a moan at the feeling.
His hard cock with the friction of grinding against him sent new sensations throughout your whole body. “God, you're such a good girl for me” He said, his voice heavy with need and desire. Frank moved his hands to the bottom of first. Pulling it off in one quick motion. The hot muggy air of the bus hit your skin. Frank wasted no time taking your bra off.
Once it was off Frank attacked your tits. Frank's mouth attached himself to your nipple biting down on it, while his other hand played with your other tit. You threw your head back. A mix of pain and pleasure rushing through your body.
Frank laid you down on the couch as he kissed down your stomach, making sure to leave love bits all the way down. When he reached the top of your jeans he looked at you, searching your face, seeing if you were going to let him continue. You nodded, that's all Frank needed. He wasted no time, frantically trying to get your pants off. Letting them hit the floor with a thud.
You laid on the couch, naked and vulnerable. Completely at Frank's mercy. You watched as Frank pulled his shirt off over his head. Your eyes scanned his bare chest, the tattoos adding more desire in your eyes. You kept your eyes locked on him as he took off his pants, leaving them discharged on the fool. You looked at him, he wasn't wearing underwear. You figured that it was just because he was busy on tour and did not have a clean pair.
Frank looked at you. “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees princess”. You dint argue, you got onto your hands and knees. Frank got onto the couch. It, dipping a bit because of the added weight. Frank put his hands on your hips and he got behind you. You were waiting for him to start when you felt a hard smack on your ass cheek. You let out a yell of pain as Frank chuckled behind you.
Frank took his pick in his hand, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your cunt. With one fast thrust he thrusted in you. You let out a moan, the pleasure overwhelming. Frank was big and thick, and you felt every movement he made, every slight twitch of his cock, and every part inside of you that it's pushing against.
Frank's thrusts are fast and relentless. His hand comes up and grabs your neck. Squeezing it hard. You let out a whine, breathing now being coming hard. When he pulls his hands away you gasped for breath. That would scare off a normal person but not you, For you it made this hotter.
Frank stopped and grabbed your hands, putting them behind your back, He was the only thing holding your upper body up. He helped you by your waists as he stared to fuck you again. He let out groans and he tried you like his own personal toy.
Frank kept you in that position, He was hitting all the right spots he needed to, you felt the familiar feeling of the coil tightening in your stomach, your mons getting louder and more desperate. Frank could tell you were close. So he let go of your hands, letting you fall face first into the couch. You're too tired and too close to get yourself up.
You were stupid to think Frank was going to let you cum that quickly. Without warning Frank grabs your hair, pulling you up by it. Holding you to his chest as he started to thrust into you. He kept one hand on your head pulling your head back, while he thrust his cock into you repeatedly. His mouth latched onto your neck, leaving bark hickeys and bark marks, while his other hand is wrapped around your waist.
It didn't take long before you felt the coil in your stomach return, your senses getting heightened as you felt Frank twitch inside of you. He was about to cum, just like you. Frank thrusted deeply inside of you, You felt yourself clench around him as you let out a loud moan. Feeling your orgasm wash over you. You felt Frank's warm liquid shoot in you as he let out a groan by your ear.
Frank thrusted into you slowly and sloppily, making sure every drop got emptied into you. Frank carefully pulled out. A few drops of his cum dripping out of you, landed on the couch. When he lets you go you collapse on the couch, exhaustion taking over your body. You were completely spent. Frank got you a towel and gathered your clothes.
You cleaned yourself up as Frank got dressed. When you were done cleaning yourself up Frank watched you get dressed. “You should go before the boys get back” “yeah..” you got your stuff and were heading to the door of the bus. “Hey, please don't tell anyone about this” he said, a hint of worry in his voice. You looked at him. “Even if I did they wouldn't believe me” you said walking out. Leaving Frank alone in the bus, the silence seems too loud now.
Notes: age gap (reader is above 18, obviously) and Frank is current age, mentions of thigh riding, biting, use of daddy, degrading, spitting, oral m receiving, photos, aggressive throat fucking,
Inspo/Request: Frank Iero’s meaty bod. That’s it.
To define Frank’s body, it was like he bulked. Big and thick, but not completely muscular, and you loved it. Frank noticed. You loved laying your head in his lap on his big thighs, you loved riding his thighs, biting down on his tummy while you worked your way to his cock, cuddling and joking about his buff arms having you in a headlock. It’s not your fault he just looked so delicious.
And while things were getting heated, you straddling his lap, making out passionately with the older man. Your hands travelled, down his arm to squeeze, down his back, as his gripped around your thighs, hips, and waist. The way you quietly admire his body is like no woman has openly before. “Sweatpea?” Frank mutters against your lips, huh pull back a little. “Yeah?” You can’t resist, kissing along his neck with little nips and licks mixed in.
Frank groaned, massaging your hips rather than travelling your body. “I think you really like my body.” He states, making you giggle. “I like every part of you, daddy.” Your statement made him shake his head, big smirk on his face. You were something else. “Of course. But you’re always so touchy. Especially my thighs.” He’s not wrong. You sigh, lips departing from his neck when you realize he’s genuinely curious to why you are this way.
“I don’t know…. I just love the meat on your bones, the way you’re shaped, all of it.” You press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, pulling away to gauge his reaction. Frank’s curiosity continues: “Any specific fantasies you have about my body?” “None that are important.” You press your lips to his again, trying to end the discussion.
But Frank pulls away. “Don’t be shy. I wanna know, baby, really.” He insists, pulling you closer to nip and suck at your neck now. You whine, trying to buck your hips, “Daddy…” But even saying that doesn’t make him stop. He chuckles, stilling your hips. “Tell me.” All movements stop, and finally, you reluctantly sigh.
As soon as he was informed about what you think about a lot, his thighs wrapped around your head, he had an idea. Now, you’re both laying in the king sized bed, the heavy weight of Frank leaning on your collarbone, his cock right in your face, knees on either side of your skull. “God, look at you. Such a whore.” Frank slaps his fat cock on the opening of your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick his head. “Yeah, you like it? Gonna open that big mouth for daddy?” He coos, running the tip along your lips. You obey fast, tongue lolled out for him to slide it against.
Frank skimmed the underside of his cock along your tongue, soaking him with your saliva, while you sneak a hand between your legs. He felt your hips rock, which he grabbed immediately. “Jesus, gotta make me fuckin’ get up?” Huffing, Frank finds a belt, tying up your hands before straddling your face again. “No touching yourself, slut. You’re my toy tonight, okay? Say it.” At Frank’s words, you shake your head no with a smirk, leaning your head up to try and playfully nip at his tip.
A glob of spit landed around your nose, dripping down to your cheek. The minute your eyes closed from the shock, Frank used one hand to grip you by the base of your hair, keeping your neck bent towards his cock and completely still, while the other one used his cock to the rub the spit all over your face. “Look at my messy girl. You just want it in your mouth, don’t you, sweatpea?” He teased, noting everytime he almost touched your lips with it before slapping it on your face again, you opened your mouth obediently.
Nodding like the cock-hungry girl you are, Frank prodded it against your open, ready lips, letting you wrap your mouth around him and hollowing your cheeks. Every time your tongue swirled around his flushed tip, teasing him like a popsicle, his hips stuttered, threatening to fully fill your throat. “Ah- you know just how to drive me crazy, don’t you?” You nod in response again, taking him further into your mouth until his hips angle back before thrusting roughly down your throat. Frank pulls out when you gag harshly, chuckling, before returning to having you suck on his salty tip.
Your lips slide along the sides, sucking and slobbering. “‘So big, daddy. Wish you’d put it inside me instead.” The complaint made him laugh, in a how dare you way, as if shocked. “What a selfish slut you are.” Moving your shoulders, you insisted to nudge him further up so he was even closer to your face. Once moved a few centimetres in, you wrapped your mouth a his balls, sucking gently while running your tongue along him.
He groans, pumping his fist right before your eyes in a tight grip. “Ohhhh god, baby, you know just how to make me feel good.” Every sound and sight of Frank goes straight to your core, making with wish you could touch yourself. You alternate, sucking and licking whenever you can on his sack while giving him those big doe eyes.
All of a sudden, his cock’s deep down your throat, thrusting in and out. You choke around the length, coughing and sputtering, while your saliva drenches his cock. A small bump is left in your throat from how deep he’s going, drool overflowing from the corners of your mouth. The erotic, sloppy noises your throat makes motivates Frank to continue, not letting you catch a breath.
Frank laughed. “So eager to please… so easy to use… can’t believe this is what you’ve wanted. Daddy sitting on your face while the wind is knocked from you.” With each thrust comes a gag, your stomach lurching but managing to keep it down with how much Frank loves to fuck your throat. His balls slap and rub against your chin whether he grinds or thrusts, giving him extra stimulation and more of the reason he’s so vocal.
“Wait - don’t move, you fucking slut.” Frank growls, keeping your head in place while fucking it like some useless glory hole. Tears run down your cheeks, saliva around your mouth, groans and rapid gag noises flowing from your mouth. Frank adjusts himself, knees closer to your head, so his thick thighs squeeze your cheeks together with his big cock stuffed down your throat. “Atta girl. Hold still.” Finding his phone, he takes a picture, your sweet cheeks bulging and leaking, your makeup ruined from the tears.
It’s impossible to speak with a mouthful of Frank. Whenever you move your mouth, he groans. “Fuck, it’s never enough for you.” Keeping his thighs crunching your head, he fucks your throat again, cock beginning to twitch inside. As soon as Frank feels that small tension beginning to grow, he goes feral, as if it was impossible to even fuck your throat this hard.
While you gag and sob, he shushes you. “Holy fuck, daddy’s gonna fill you up!” After he announces that, a few more thrusts follow, them him pulling out to sloppily beat off in your face until his hot sticky cum busts all over your face. As soon as he’s completely milked, he uses his sloppy cock to rub it all over your face, grinning said thighs still hug your head. Admiring you, he mumbles, “My icky girl.”
Summary: Pretty much about Stoner!Frank, whom you met at a basement party your college friend threw. He was cute, and he knew it. You were the prettiest girl at the party.
Words: 1.468.
Warnings: mischievous reader, weed mention (written by a weed lover, sorry), alcohol, stoner!Frank supremacy, excessive flirting, poor life choices, mildly suggestive content.
A/N: hiii everyone! i've been obsessed with this kind of content lately, so I ended up writing this in my free time. pls mind that english isn't my first language and i've never actually been to the us, so some details or cultural references might not be 100% accurate.
i wanted to keep this simple and easy to read because that's basically the whole vibe. anywayyyy, i have no idea if i'll end up writing more stuff like this, but pls let me know if you liked it! ♡
A friend invited you to a shitty (yet somehow the most fun) basement party he threw every now and then at his late grandmother's old house on the outskirts of the city, in a quiet suburb that resembled the countryside more than an urban neighborhood. It always felt like a good option whenever you wanted to get away from New York.
From the outside, the house looked quiet enough. But the second you stepped through the front door, the noise hit you. Music, laughter, people talking over one another. It didn't take long after walking in for you to realize that everyone there felt pretty much the same as you and was looking for a break from real life.
You ran into a couple people from your color theory class near the bar and ended up talking with them for what felt like an hour. By the time you felt the buzz settling into your limbs, all you wanted was a cigarette, inviting one of your classmates outside for a smoke.
That's when you saw him.
He was standing against the wall, a joint hung loosely between his fingers as he passed it around to the guys next to him. When he exhaled a cloud of smoke and glanced your way, your eyes met.
And just like that, you thought he was cute.
Dangerously cute.
You lit your cigarette and kept talking to your classmate about teachers and classes, but every now and then your attention drifted back to the cute stoner with the crooked smile.
"I think you've got a fan" your friend said.
Your eyes followed hers and landed on the stoner guy. He had been watching you without even trying to hide it.
Not looking away.
Not pretending he hadn't been caught.
Just watching.
You were curious and mischievous, so you stared back without breaking eye contact for several long seconds, until he finally looked away.
You couldn't help but smirk.
You always liked making guys uncomfortable, especially the ones you liked.
By the end of your second cigarette, it felt like a shame to go back inside and lose sight of him, but when Whatsername by Green Day started playing through the speakers, you felt the urge to sing along.
You were halfway through the second verse when a voice interrupted your singing.
"You definitely look like a Green Day kind of girl," he said.
"I'll take that as a compliment," you replied, tucking your hair behind your right ear and knowing exactly what you were doing. "Are you a Green Day kind of boy?"
"In every possible way, pretty" he laughed.
It was the kind of laugh that made your stomach betray you. The kind that immediately told you it was trouble. The fun kind of trouble.
"I'm Frank."
"Cute." you said it so casually that he widened his eyes before laughing out loud.
"So you think I'm cute?"
"Sure." you smirked. "And your name somehow makes you seem even cuter."
"Are you with anyone, or...?"
His curious eyes wandered across your face as if you were some kind of artwork.
“You mean… If I’m with anyone?” you watched him nod slowly, wearing the dumbest smile. He was definitely high. "No. Not really."
"So do you like cute guys?"
"All cool girls like cute guys."
Something lit up in his eyes. You had him.
"Do you like cool girls?" you asked.
"Yeah. I also like pretty girls and for the record, I think you're the prettiest girl at this party." he gave you a smug smile that somehow still looked vulnerable.
You felt like you could eat him alive.
"Probably the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
You gave him a nasty look, letting him know how unbearable that sounded, and took his beer can from his cold, tattooed hands.
You took a long, painful sip on it before giving it back and turning your back on him as the song was about to end.
You knew he’d follow you, which is exactly what he did. Once outside again, you found a safe spot far from most people, a place in between the parked cars.
You lit a cigarette as you leaned your back on someone’s dirty Corolla and watched Frank stumble on his own feet as he walked his way to you like a lost puppy.
God, you were loving it.
You didn’t say a word and offered him your own cigar when he was close enough, giving him a hungry look as he reached it.
“At first look I thought you were too goofy,” you said. “You know? But now, looking again, you seem annoyingly adorable."
“I thought you said I was cute.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“As long as you like it,” he took a step in your direction, “and as long as it guarantees I have a chance of… You know… Getting to know you better.”
“You don’t wanna know me better, I’m fucking trouble. But you already know it, right?” now you took a step in his direction.
“All New York folks are trouble,” he said.
You could now feel the warmth of his body as you slowly stepped back to lean on the car, and he followed you, gently pressing his body against yours.
You tilted your head to reach for his lips without losing sight of the stupid hot smirk he gave you. When you finally touched, Frank raised his hands to both sides of your waist and let out a long sigh in between your kiss once he finally touched you.
Smiling in between the hot kisses you shared, you felt the air thicker and hotter with each passing second, being unable to control the urge of letting a few wet moans fill Frank’s lips.
You felt him getting harder and bigger while pressing you against the cold car, and your legs started to tremble when he slid his cold hands inside your shirt.
“You’re not fucking me here outdoors, but you got 10 seconds to figure out where you can.” you said breaking the kiss for the first time.
Frank laughed loudly, and it took him just 3 seconds to recompose himself and stare at you with starry needy eyes.
He didn’t say a word but gave you a wide smile and started walking between the parked cars when, at some point, he took his car keys from the back pocket and unlocked an old Toyota, guiding you inside it on the front passenger seat.
Frank entered the car on the driver's seat but didn’t give you time to ask where you were heading to, simply throwing his body over you as he reclined your seat and started kissing you again.
This time he seemed more desperate, hungry even. His hands ran all over your body as if he wasn’t sure it was real.
Grabbing, nailing, and pinching, it was a messy way to gain more and more moans out of you in between kisses.
When you couldn’t hold it back anymore and took out the belt on his already tight pants, he moaned loudly inside your mouth, taking a few seconds to let his lazy eyes take a good look at you again.
“You’re so fucking pretty, jeez."
The small space between the car made everything feel even hotter, his devoted eyes, his whimpering and troublesome hands.
As your moans got louder and louder and bottom clothes went missing, he kept pressing his body against you as if he could come just by it.
The situation made it pretty clear that both of you were in sync and foreplay wasn’t much needed.
Frank held you tight and warm that Saturday night in his car for the first time, making you reach your most delicious peak so easily you felt ridiculous.
When you had enough of the sloppy and wet kisses and both could finally breathe again, Frank sat back in the driver's seat and opened the windows.
You shared a joint and spent hours talking about your lives, likes, and dislikes.
Frank was from New Jersey and was heading back home in 2 days. He liked dogs, worked on a tattoo shop and played on a band. He sang along to all your favorite Green Day songs and took you home.
You never told him your name. He did ask, but you'd rather not. He saved your contact as Whatsername.
Frank was adorable, which made him an absolute no.
No ever meeting again, no ever sleeping together again. No ever meeting your parents and no, absolutely no, never, giving him your sour heart.
Yet, when you got home and laid down on your bed, putting your phone off on the bedside table, you couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever call you again.
You have always been the type of person who thrives on solo travel, exploring the world on your own terms. Some call you intense, others call you crazy, but you prefer the term "free spirit." At nearly thirty, you’ve never felt the need to settle down. You are driven by raw physical attraction; love is a concept you simply don’t subscribe to. Whenever the men in your past tried to anchor you into a boring relationship, you did what you do best: you vanished, disappearing from their lives before things got complicated.
After months of grinding at work, your hard-earned vacation finally arrived. Your mission? To disappear into the vastness of the United States and see what the unknown had in store. That is how you ended up here, in a crowded, dimly lit pub that reeks of sweat and cheap beer. On stage, a band you’ve never heard of is setting up their gear. You stake out a spot close to the stage, close enough to feel the bass in your chest, but far enough to avoid the chaos of the mosh pit. You sip your beer, watching the sound technicians hurry back and forth with final adjustments.
You huff impatiently, checked your watch, and just as you are about to give up on the wait, the lights kill. A deafening crash of drums and a heavy, distorted guitar riff shatter the silence. The band emerges, all dressed in stark white, and as soon as the vocalist hits the stage, the crowd erupts into a frenzy unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He commands the center of the stage, his voice raspy and raw as he screams the lyrics, pouring every ounce of his soul into the microphone.
For a long time, you lose track of the minutes, your gaze is locked onto him, a slight palpitation takes over your body. He is undeniably magnetic: robust build, short hair, a dark mustache, and a tapestry of tattoos covering his neck and arms. When he throws himself onto the floor, surrendering completely to the noise, you are hypnotized. You can’t help but notice the sweat glistening on his forehead, trickling down until it passes over the scorpion tattoo on his neck. It is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
As the set nears its end, the singer addresses the crowd to announce the final song. For the first time, his eyes sweep across the room until they stop dead on yours. You swallow hard, instinctively biting your lower lip. He lets out a short, knowing laugh and ducks his head. Sensing the show is over, you take the opportunity to slip away to the empty bar and order another drink.
After draining the bottle, you head toward the bathroom. Just as you reach for the door, a hand lightly circles your wrist. You jump, startled, the instinct of a woman alone in a foreign country, and find yourself face-to-face with him. The singer. He wears the same smirk he gave you from the stage.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says.
You open your mouth to deliver a sharp retort, the kind of dismissal you’ve perfected for pretentious guys who think they can approach any woman, but he speaks first.
"Before you turn me down, I wanted to introduce myself and the band. My name is Frank, Frank Iero, and we’re Leathermouth. I saw you in the audience alone and... I don’t know what got into me, but I felt like I needed to at least tell you my name."
Surprisingly, he isn't the jerk you expected, despite the aggressive, sweat-soaked music, he seems genuine. You let out a weak, slightly awkward laugh and introduce yourself, mentioning you’re just a traveler checking out the local scene.
"There’s an after-party happening at one of the guys' houses," he says, leaning in a little closer. "I don't know what your schedule looks like, but if you want to show up, you’re invited."
Common sense warns you about being kidnapped by a stranger, but looking at him, barely 1.70m tall with those intense eyes, you decide the risk is better than scrolling through Twitter in a lonely hotel room.
"Sure, I can meet you there. Give me the address?"
"Better yet, let me get your number and I'll text it to you. When you get there, look for me."
About forty minutes later, your taxi pulls up to a house where loud music and discarded cups on the lawn signal a night of excess. You walk through the open front door and scan the room, immediately spotting Frank. He’s deep in conversation with a friend, but his eyes find you instantly.
"Hey, you came!"
He approaches you with a beer in hand, smiling wide. You hadn't realized how beautiful his smile was. Even though he’s covered in sweat and his white clothes are stained from the stage floor, he is irresistible.
"Well, an after-party seemed more attractive than a hotel room," you reply.
"I’m glad you made the right decision. Come on, I'll get you a drink."
He leads you to the kitchen and stays by your side the entire time. He asks about your life, your country, and your travels. You know his type well, but you find yourself caught up in his energy. It’s not every day a rockstar makes you his sole focus.
Later, you head to the bathroom. When you return, you see two girls hovering far too close to Frank. He’s leaning against the wall with that intoxicating smile, and they look ready to pounce. You try to walk past them to avoid the "groupie" drama, but his voice stops you.
"(Y/N), I was waiting for you! Excuse me, girls, but I'm with someone.”
The girls glare at you with pure hatred as Frank pulls you into the middle of the room. A song you don’t recognize begins to play. He grips your waist firmly, swaying you from side to side. His hot breath brushes against your neck as he whispers:
"I’m glad you showed up. If you’d taken any longer, I would've been screwed."
"Oh yeah? And would that be so bad?" You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin against yours.
"It would. Because the one I want is right here, and those girls don't add up to half of what you are."
Caught off guard, you don't have a witty comeback. Instead, you lean in for a quick peck that quickly turns into a deep, hungry kiss. Your fingers tangle in his short hair as his hands slide under your shirt, stroking your skin.
You pull him toward a corner of the crowded room, pinning yourself against the wall and pulling him in by his collar. You move your lips down to his neck, finally kissing that scorpion tattoo. Frank groans, his eyes fluttering shut. When his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, you let out a soft moan and nip at his lower lip.
"I think you understand what I meant now, don't you?" He murmurs.
"Better than understanding is showing, don't you think?"
Your hand slides down his chest, stopping at the bulge in his pants. You stroke him slowly through the fabric, watching him struggle to keep his composure. You unbutton his pants, slide your hand inside his boxers, and begin to move. Frank rests his head on your shoulder, his breath hitching as you set the pace.
When you feel the dampness of his arousal on your fingers, you suddenly pull away and button him back up. You discreetly lick your fingers while he stands there, dazed and breathless.
"You want to ruin me, (Y/N). That's not fair," he pants. "Want to go somewhere else? My hotel is some blocks away."
"Maybe that was the intention—to ruin you, Frankie."
You take his hand and hop into the first available taxi. By the time you reach the hotel, the tension is a physical weight. In the elevator, your hands roam over each other, and as soon as the door to his room clicks shut, he presses you against it. He grinds against you, his hardness unmistakable.
Frank tries to take the lead, but you push him back. You hold his face, running your tongue over his lips before speaking with authority.
"Haven't you realized yet that you're not in control here, Frank? I think I need to teach you a few rules. First one, kneel."
Confused but intrigued, he feels the weight of your hands on his shoulders. He obeys, lowering himself until he is kneeling before you.
"Very well, good boy. Now, you’re going to do everything I tell you, alright? You think you can obey me?"
"Yes... I'll obey you," he stammers, his eyes locked on yours.
You order him to strip. He leaves himself only in black boxers and returns to his knees. His hazel eyes are wide with anticipation.
"Now… I'm taking off my shirt and you're going to take off my shorts, okay? Then, you're going to go down on me. I want you to eat me out like I'm the last woman on Earth."
Frank licks his lips and as soon as you are bare, he dives in. His tongue paths along your thighs, teasing the edges of your groin. When he lingers too long without hitting the mark, you lift his chin and deliver a sharp slap to his face. The shock in his eyes only fuels his arousal.
"No teasing, bad boy or you won't get your reward."
"I… I’m sorry, it won't happen again. I promise."
He doesn't need a second warning. He buries his face between your legs, and you lean back against the door, moaning as his tongue finds your clit. He sucks and licks with a desperate intensity, sensing exactly what you need. When you’re on the verge, you pull him up by the hair, sealing your lips in a kiss that tastes of both of you.
You throw him onto the bed and crawl toward him. You trail kisses over his tattooed legs and belly, eventually leaving a dark hickey on his neck, a mark to let the world know you were there. You straddle his lap, grinding against him.
"Now for our agreement," you whisper, scratching your nails along his chest. "You only come when I say so, alright?"
Frank looks like a lost puppy. "Alright, baby… Fuck… You're the most beautiful woman I've ever been with," he whispers.
You slide off his lap and kneel at the foot of the bed. "Now… Now I'm going to be the woman who gives you the best blowjob of your life."
You remove his boxers and take him into your mouth. Frank is a mess: disheveled, sweating, and desperate. He forces himself not to grab your hair, staying a "good boy" just to earn his reward. When you pull away, he is trembling.
"Do you want to fuck me, Frankie? Tell me, do you want me to sit on you until I make you beg?"
"Please... I’ll do whatever you want. Please, (Y/N), I need to be inside you. I'm being such a good boy..."
You sit on his lap, letting him feel the muscles of your pussy contract as they take in his thick cock. You set the pace, moving lightly as his hands grip your waist. Eventually, you lie back, letting him take over. He thrusts with a violent, beautiful urgency. You wrap your legs around him, scratching his back until you feel the sting of blood.
"I… I don't want the night to end. Stay with me, baby, just for tonight…" Between moans you hear him say, completely overcome by the lust that radiates from every pore of his body.
You don't answer with words, pulling him into a kiss, biting his lip as you stroke your clit and reaching a second orgasm. Sensing he can't hold back anymore, you allow him to finish inside you.
He collapses beside you, both of you panting at the ceiling. Frank turns to you, that same mesmerizing smile back on his face. You give him a quick peck before you tell all he needs to hear:
"Okay… Tonight, i'm all yours..."
You lie on his chest, feeling his heart hammer against your ear, holding you tight as your sweaty, intertwined bodies settle into the quiet of the night.
title: fever dream - frank iero and the future violents
pairing: prorev frank iero x reader
word count: 2.011
It was just another humid summer morning, a typical Sunday in New Jersey, but the air in the room felt different. You opened your eyes slowly, squinting against the aggressive sunlight stabbing through the cracks in the curtains. When you tried to shift beneath the tangled blankets, you were pinned by a heavy, tattooed arm draped over your waist and a leg hooked firmly over your torso, anchoring you to the mattress.
Turning your head, you came face-to-face with Frank. He was completely dead to the world, his face softened by a level of exhaustion only a grueling tour like Projekt Revolution could produce. He had arrived back just yesterday, finally trading the cramped, vibrating bunks of a tour bus and the cacophony of his bandmates' snoring for the stillness of your shared bed.
You reached out, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead. The skin was warm, and as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple, he let out a low, tired grunt. His eyes fluttered, the hazy hazel focusing on you as consciousness slowly reclaimed him.
"Good morning," you whispered, a helpless smile tugging at your lips. "I think someone finally got their beauty sleep."
Frank stretched, his joints popping, before he leaned in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, as if memorizing your scent. "You have no idea," he rasped, his voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "I couldn't take another night of Gerard snoring right below me or Ray tossing and turning like the bus was on fire. I was counting the seconds until I could just... be here. With you."
He pulled you closer, his hands sliding under your pajama top to find the bare skin of your waist. The contact was electric. Seeing the way your breath hitched, he let out a low, provocative chuckle, his teeth catching your bottom lip in a playful, sharp tug.
"You love to tease, Iero," you countered, playfully swatting his chest, though you didn't move away.
"I can't help it," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "The way your body reacts to me? It’s better than any crowd on tour."
You made a feint to get up, but Frank was faster. His hand clamped around your wrist, tugging you back down until you were sprawled directly over him. You braced your arms on the mattress on either side of his head, looking down into his hooded eyes. Beneath you, you could feel him—thick and already straining against the fabric of his boxers, pulsing against your thigh.
"Forget the coffee," he smirked, his hips giving a suggestive upward roll that forced a gasp from your lungs. "I have a much better idea for how we spend this Sunday."
You looked at him, admiring every inch of the ink covering his skin, the raw beauty of him. But then, a devious thought crossed your mind.
"You know," you began, trailing a finger down his throat, "you were complaining about the guys earlier, but I saw some videos of the tour online. You didn't look very 'bothered' on stage."
Frank’s smirk faltered. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting away as a faint flush crept up his neck.
"Frank, don't be shy," you purred, leaning down to nip at his earlobe. "It was actually quite a rush. Especially the parts where you were rubbing against Gerard like... well, like a dog in heat."
"W-what?" he stammered. "A dog?"
"Oh, Frankie, you were desperate! Rubbing your face against him, begging for attention. Everyone thinks you look like a little puppy when you're like that. Don't you agree?" You began to distribute biting kisses across his bare chest, your hand roaming over the rough texture of his tattooed shoulders.
He closed his eyes, his breathing turning into shallow pants as you ground your hips slowly against his. "I... I never thought about it like that."
"You're a terrible liar," you whispered. "But if you want, I can show you exactly how to be a good, obedient puppy for me. How about that?"
Frank’s hands gripped your waist with a sudden, desperate strength. He began to rub his cock against you through your clothes, his mouth falling open as he let out a senseless, needy moan. He looked completely undone.
"Use your words, Frankie," you commanded, your voice dropping to a firm, authoritative tone. "You’re going to do everything I say. I’m the owner here. Understood?"
He nodded frantically, but when you gave him a stern look, he corrected himself. "O-okay. I want to be a good boy for you."
"Perfect! Now, get on the floor and kneel for me."
Without a second thought, Frank shed the covers and scrambled to the floor by the edge of the bed. You sat on the mattress, opening your legs so he was positioned right between them. At this height, you were eye-to-eye. You ran your fingers through his hair, and he leaned into the touch, letting out small whimpers of approval.
"Stay," you ordered.
You felt him brushing his cock against your leg, seeking friction, seeking you. You allowed it, keeping your gaze locked onto his as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. When you saw him nearing his limit, you pushed him back by the shoulders, making him sit back on his heels. He whined, a genuine sound of protest at the loss of contact.
Slowly, you stood up and stripped. First the shirt, then the shorts, until you were standing before him in only your underwear. You sat back down on the edge of the bed, spreading your knees wide. Frank looked like he was about to salivate, his eyes wide and hungrily devouring the sight of you.
He moved to lunge toward you, but you held up a hand. "Wait."
You signaled with your fingers, beckoning him. He approached slowly, trembling.
"Now," you whispered, "I want you to taste me with all that hunger you've been bottling up. You're going to make me come in your mouth, Frankie. But don't you dare touch yourself. You fuck me with your tongue until I tell you to stop. Do you understand your job?"
"Yes… I just want to please my mommy," he rasped, his eyes watering with desperate need.
You grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a greedy, bruising kiss, your tongues clashing before you pushed him down. You lay back on the bed, guiding his head between your thighs. He started with a soft, teasing kiss to your inner thigh that made your knees shake.
"Bad puppy!" you said tugging his hair sharply. "No teasing or there will be consequences."
Frank got the message. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, pulling them aside to reveal your slick, swollen center. He didn't hesitate. His tongue lashed out, a long, firm stroke from bottom to top that made your back arch off the bed.
He was relentless. He focused on your clit with a surgical precision, his tongue swirling and flickering while he used his fingers to stretch you open. The sound of his wet, frantic lapping filled the room. You ground your hips against his face, your fingers digging into his scalp as the tension built to an unbearable peak.
"Oh fuck... I'm going to come, puppy, don't stop!"
He increased the pressure, his tongue darting inside you, mimicking a thrusting motion while his suction on your clit intensified. You screamed his name as your climax tore through you, your body bucking as you came directly against his tongue. He stayed there, licking every drop of your release, ensuring he tasted every bit of his reward.
When you finally caught your breath and sat up, you were met with a vision of pure sin. Frank was still kneeling, his lips stained red and glistening, his tongue darting out to lick a stray drop from his lip. His black boxers were stretched to the breaking point by his pulsing, desperate cock.
You pulled him up by the hair, kissing him deeply so you could taste yourself on him. You bit into his tattooed neck, leaving a mark that would surely last for days.
"You were the best puppy I could ask for," you breathed against his skin. "Now, get on the bed, you deserve a treat."
Frank collapsed onto the mattress, looking up at you with raw adoration. You stripped off your panties and crawled over him, sliding his boxers down his legs and tossing them aside. He was gorgeous, his lean, inked body trembling as you took him in your hand.
You leaned down, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, listening to him moan uncontrollably. You took him into your mouth, your hand pumping the base while your tongue teased the ridge. Frank was losing it, his hips bucking off the bed, his hands clenching the sheets.
"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please, I need to be inside you. Let me come inside you…"
"Alright, puppy… i think… i think you really deserve it."
You straddled him, aligning his cock with your pussy. You lowered yourself slowly, inch by agonizing inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him. You both let out a long, unified groan as you bottomed out.
You leaned forward, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand and using the other to grip his throat, not to hurt, but to claim. His eyes went wide, his pupils blown with pleasure as you began to move.
"Come on, puppy. Show me how much you missed fucking me."
That was all the permission he needed. He gripped your waist, his thumbs digging into your hips as he began to thrust upward with a primal, rhythmic force. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your loud, echoing moans filled the room. You squeezed his throat slightly, and he let out a choked, ecstatic gasp, his pace becoming frantic.
"I want to see you," he panted, his sweat dripping onto your chest. "Let me... let me get on top. I want to look into your eyes when I do it, please…"
You rolled over, letting him take control. He pinned your legs back toward your shoulders and dove back in, his thrusts deep and punishing. He leaned down, his tongue dancing with yours as he whispered between thrusts, "I love you, (Y/N). I fucking love you."
You cried out, your internal muscles clenching around him as you felt another wave of climax approaching.
With one hand, he reached down to find your clit, his thumb working in fast, hard circles. The combination was too much. You shattered for the second time, your legs locking around his waist.
"Can I come? Please…" he pleaded, his face flushed, eyes searching yours for the final command.
"Come for me, puppy. Fill me up."
He let out a guttural roar, burying his face in your neck as he surged deep inside you, his body stiffening as he spent himself completely. He stayed there for a long time, draped over you, his heart hammering against yours like a trapped bird.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. The room was silent save for the distant sound of New Jersey traffic and your synchronized breathing.
"So," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his side. "Did you enjoy being my puppy?"
Frank kissed the top of your head, a weary, satisfied smile on his face. "I'd wear a collar with your name on it every day if it meant I got to come home to this."
You laughed softly, snuggling deeper into his chest. "Don't give me ideas, Iero. You know I have no self-control."
"Good," he whispered, his arms tightening around you. "Because you are the only thing I need."
As the Sunday sun continued to climb, the two of you drifted back into a deep, peaceful sleep, tangled together in a mess of sweat, ink, and a love that was anything but typical.
Very short and smutty (getting choked out by Frank’s meaty arms, anyways) what do you expect from me, MDNI
You watched as Frank sat on the worn couch, guitar resting on his lap as he plucked the strings. You watched his fingers move across the instrument, all the while his forearms flexing with each movement. You were mesmerized as you watched the muscles contract and relax with each move. You glanced up to see Frank smiling at you, a small chuckle filling the quietness, “you okay baby? I think you have a little drool.”
A warm blush formed on your cheeks, as you rolled your eyes. The leather couch creaked under you as you shifted in your seat, facing Frank more. He watched as you reached out, your fingers gently wrapping around his wrist, “can you do me a favor?” Your voice dripping with sweetness that you knew Frank couldn’t resist. You smirked when you saw him nod, and you dragged his hand up to your throat. Frank’s eyes widen as he felt your pulse under his rough fingers. He stared at you, mouth slightly hanging open as he absentmindedly put the guitar on the floor. A small hum of appreciation vibrated under his hand as your eyes fluttered shut, all worries and concerns melting away at the feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat.
Frank kept glancing at his hand and your blissed out face, and he barely curled his fingers in to close off more airway. You moaned from the pressure and Frank felt himself twitch in his pants as he let out a huffed laugh, “you feeling okay?” You nodded as you opened your eyes to see Frank’s pupils dilated, want written all over his face.
Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you brought your hand to his, squeezing it more. You shifted your hips trying to relieve some of the want, and groaned when you felt just how affected you were, “Frankie, I-i just want it” You watched as Frank just nodded at you, “please.”
The soft plea had him dropping his hand, and moving. The loss of contact made you whine and tilt your head back against the couch. Frank gently shushed you as he pulled you to stand up. He placed a quick, soft kiss on your lips and the moment your legs were straight Frank tugged your pants to the floor, the cold air making you miss his warmth. Frank turned you towards the couch and you wasted no time curling up onto your knees, facing away from him and your upper body draped over the top of it. The deep moan from Frank made you spread your legs more, back arching to show him just how much you wanted it, “oh baby- fuck, I see how wet you are.” Frank ran his hands over the curve of your ass as he stepped behind you, pressing his naked thighs against the back of yours, “you like when Frankie chokes you, hmm baby?” The condescending tone of his voice, had you pushing back into him as you tried to bury your face into your arm. The embarrassment of needing him so badly, making you blush. Frank tsked at you and pull him hand back before delivery a slap directly to your right cheek. You threw your head back with a hiss from the pain and Frank smirked as he reached down to his length and brought it to your soaked entrance, “answer my question.” His voice deep, close to your ear as he placed one knee between yours and leaned over you. His body curving with yours as he slowly pushed into you.
The stretch had you pushing your body up into his, soft huffs leaving your mouth as you adjusted to him, “oh- fuck Fraaaank.” You felt yourself clench around him as he pushed all the way in, “I-I need it again.” Frank moaned at your words and started to fuck into you, slowly wanting to feel every soft, warm part of you. He brought his arm up to your throat, wrapping his thick bicep and forearm around it. Your eyes rolled back, as you were exactly where you wanted to be.
Frank watched in a daze as your mouth fell open, tits bouncing with each thrust into you. He would remember this forever, your fucked out expression, your need for him to help make everything better. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not when you were babbling against his arm about how much you loved it and him. Frank released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “I know- I know baby, fuck you feel so fucking good, tight- warm- so damn warm- mmm baby.” He brought his fingers down to your clit, quickly rubbing tight circles, wanting nothing more than to finish the same time as you.
You moaned as you pushed back to meet Frank’s slow thrust, your mind slowly melting as you felt his fingers work you closer to your release, “thank you- thank you Frankie- so good, feel so go- I’m- I’m- yes right there.” You wrapped an arm around Frank’s tatted arm as you heard his groans from you cumming on his cock. His hips pressed hard against your ass, as he came deep within you. You both breathless as Frank slowly pulled his arm away, leaving you leaning back into him to chase the warmth of his body, “noooooo!” You felt him chuckle from above you, “stay a little longer.”
Frank sighed as he pulled out of you but not leaving from you, “I’m here for you baby, but I think we need to talk about how much you liked being choked out.” His voice light as you shushed him and mumbled about “noooo not right now, another time” too embarrassed about it.
hi bunny :3 i have a fic request if that’s okay >///< could you maybe write about big scary leathermouth era frank being the worlds sweetest subby boy? thank you!! <3 -🌈
Oh hi my love! 🫶🏻
YES 100% I can do this 🙂↕️ thank you for your request baby! This turned out way longer than I originally intended >.<"
Smut warning <3 mdni please & thank you!
Frank was known for being wild and crazy on stage, screaming into the microphone and slamming his guitar around. Hes broken so many guitars its unreal.
He just had so much energy and anger that he let go of while on stage. It would've completely shocked anybody to know that you have him wrapped around your finger.
He has such a high after he performs, his body practically vibrating when he gets in the car. You pick him up from the venue, usually some dirty record store and he falls into the passenger seat of your car.
"Ready to go?" He says lighting up a cigarette and rolling the window down to let the smoke out.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Frankie?" You say back as you turn, waiting for him before driving off.
"Oops.. sorry ma'am." He says quietly and leans over giving you a kiss hello. "I missed you" He says, shrinking back into the seat and taking a few puffs on his cigarette.
"I missed you too honey, how was your show?" You ask as you drive and he nods, getting ready to tell you all about it while talking a mile a minute.
"Oh it was so much fun! I played my new song and everyone loved it, the crowd was so great they sang along to almost every song! ..i think. Well, from what i could hear they did! I love playing smaller crowds, it feels so much more personal! Oh I wish you could've been there! Will you come to my next show? Pleeeaseee?" He quickly turns to begging.
You laugh softly as you pull up to the house. "Oh honey you know I would if I wasn't working, when is your next one?" You ask and pull the car into the driveway.
"Next weekend, you have off!" He says excitedly, bouncing in the seat.
"Alright then love, next weekend I'll come see you play. Now, shower and bed honey. Its getting late." You say getting out of the car and grabbing Frank's guitar case.
Frank pouts as he gets out of the car. "But im not tired!" He whines and shuts the door.
"You will be after I'm done with you brat, now go." You scold lightly, his face lighting up at the implied promise.
"Yes ma'am!" He says and hurries inside the house, wasting no time in getting undressed. He peels off his sweat soaked tshirt and kicks out of his jeans as he stumbles up the stairs to the bathroom.
"Frankie, use the clothes bin honey." You say mainly to yourself since Frank is already in the bathroom starting the shower.
You've gotten in the habit of laying out clothes for Frank after he showers, its fun to pick out what you want him to wear and he never complains when you do. You pick out a plain white shirt and gray sweatpants that you know fit him just right. Laying the clothes on the bed, you go back downstairs to pour yourself a drink.
About fifteen minutes later, Frank comes downstairs dressed in what you picked out and slightly damp hair falling in his eyes. You set your glass down on the coffee table and open your arms for him. "Come here baby." You say to him and he pads over, laying down with you.
Frank nuzzles his head into your chest and you wrap your arms around him. "Feeling tired yet baby?" You ask, running a hand through his hair.
He shakes his head and sits up on his knees then in an effort to show you he is wide awake. "Nu uh, not tired ma'am."
"Hm, good. Upstairs then love, I'll be up in a minute." You say waving him off and finishing your drink. He quickly stands up and goes back upstairs to the bedroom, tearing his shirt off and sliding out of the sweatpants.
You come up to find Frank, sitting on his knees on the bed, waiting for you with his hands behind his back and head slightly bowed. His chest rising and falling deeply with anticipation.
"Such a good boy." You say mockingly as you circle the bed, looking him over.
"Thank you ma'am." He says lowly, head still tilted down and a blush staining his cheeks.
You gently lift his chin so his eyes meet yours. "Down." You command and Frank instantly drops from the bed onto the floor, looking up at you and waiting for your instructions.
You strip from your clothes, letting them fall to the floor in front of him. He watches you intently, getting harder and more antsy by the second. By the time you slide down the lacy underwear that Frank had gotten you as a gift one year for your birthday, he is a whining and whimpering mess. His hard cock beginning to leak just at the sight of you.
"P-please ma'am.." He'd beg as he wipes the drool from his mouth.
"Please what, Frankie?" You ask, positioning yourself on the bed so you are in full view for Frank. "Use your words, what does my baby want, hm?"
Franks brain is bound to short circuit at any moment unless he gets between your legs soon. He tries to clear his too-dry throat and you hand him a glass of water from the carafe on the night stand. "Thank you ma'am." He mutters after taking a drink then sets the glass back down.
"Want you.. please." Frank moans desperately as he stares up at your body from the floor. You lay down with your legs over the edge of the bed on full display for him.
"Get to work Frankie, be a good boy." You no sooner get the words out before Franks head is pressed to your core, his tongue slowly lapping around you. He holds onto your thighs to stabilize himself and bucks his hips into nothing, desperately looking for any kind of friction.
As he licks you open, swirling his tongue around greedily, he moans soft thank yous, making his lips vibrate lightly against your clit.
"Ooh so good for me Frankie, that's it honey." You encourage as you lean up on your arms to watch him. He looks up to you as he eats, his face flushed and damp hair sticking to his forehead. He looked so good like this, more than happy to be eating you out and pathetically still humping the air.
You grip his hair and tug gently, feeling yourself getting close. "Oh Frankie honey that's it, such a good boy for me. Gonna make me come all over your pretty face." You encourage and he continues, speeding up his tongue as you grind on his face. Your back arches and Frank just about looses his mind, you would think he was the one cumming with the moans he is letting out. He just loves to bring you to your orgasm so much and wants to see you like that always.
He happily cleans you up, licking your pussy like a one-man clean up crew. Feeling overstimulated, you pull him up to you and lay him on his back back onto the bed. He whines and tries pushing his hips into a pillow but you pull it away from him. "Nu uh Frankie, no pillows." Making him whine again, you grab onto his hips and turn him back over so he is flat on his back, his cock slapping against his stomach with a wet thud.
"My poor baby, you need some attention for that honey?" You patronize and he nods with a pout.
"Yes ma'am." He whimpers to you as you wrap your hand around him, spitting on his cock to slick him up before slowly pumping up and down. He moans out, finally feeling the relief of your touch. "T-thank you ma'am, thankyoummophthannyovvmm." his words turning into slurred and jumbled up nonsense.
"Shh Frankie, I got you honey." You say moving faster and making him gasp.
"M'gonna.. aahh.. pl-please ahaha ff..uck, fuck."
You see he's close already and stop. "Ah ah ah Frankie, did I say you can come yet?"
His chest falls back and his eyes flutter open as he shakes his head. "No ma'am." He pants as you start again.
"Good boy, now just relax Frankie." You climb on top of him and sit on his thighs, stroking him quickly then stopping over and over again making him squirm under you.
"Ple.. please." He's almost to tears, feeling the knot in his stomach building and tearing apart each time you stop.
"Please what, Frankie?" You tease, watching him writhe underneath you. "Can't hear you sweet boy."
"Please let me cum, please ma'am I'll be good I pr-promise!" Frank begs, his hips try to buck up into your hand but you keep him still, pressing your weight down on him as you pump faster.
"Okay baby, cum for me honey." You say as you continue to stroke him quickly, milking him until he cries out.
"Aahh! Tha-thank you ma'am.. thank y-you fuuck.." he moans breathlessly as he coats your hand and his stomach with ropes of cum, his hips moving along with your rhythm as he rides out his high.
"Mmmthankyou..s-so good." He mutters completely exhausted, his body glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
You kiss his forehead softly as you clean him up with a tissue. "My sweet boy." <3
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