fever dream
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, but 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 and… 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.
"Frankie, 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."
"Wha… 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 your owner here, understood?"
He nodded frantically, but when you gave him a stern look, he corrected himself. "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 you, 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 laid 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 mommy."
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, baby girl. 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.
