prorev!frank iero x gn/nb!reader - smut
an: ehee heyy!! second fic still nervous … buuuttt m rlly passionate abt frank so its worth it !! i didnt pick a specific show n didnt knowingly describe any events that did happen if tha makes any sense! kinda self indulgent tbh m sorry!! i tried to follow tha pro rev setlist tho! also fair warning i wrote this with afab anatomy in mind!! but not described
summary: you n frank r rhythm guitarists for mcr preforming on the projekt revolution tour when he decides to mess with you on stage, leading to you one upping him. when the show ends the tension finally breaks backstage.
warnings: cursing, nsfw, sex, whiny frank, marking, licking, hair pulling, sweat n tattoo stuff, grinding, tension, you’re both loud, get kinda caught at the end?, poor descriptions of prorev, maybe ooc frank n band?
You felt his eyes on you, even at the beginning of the show. Gerard’s voice boomed on your left as he sang This is How I Disappear, whilst Ray maintained his controlled sense of power. His head banging to the beat, fingers moving like lightning across his guitar. Although, every time the words “And without you is how I disappear” rang through the stage you felt eyes burn holes into you. Frank Iero. Your fellow rhythm guitarist and one of MCR’s back up vocalists alongside you and Ray.
With each song you felt him inch closer. By the time Welcome to the Black Parade had begun he was practically your shadow. His body was close enough that his warmth filled the air around you, making it hard to breathe. He eventually leaned his head on your shoulder, nose tucked into the crook of your neck. His breath was heavy, coming out in shallow bursts as his fingers moved across the guitar. Your own fingers followed with tremendous difficulty, almost forgetting the chords you’ve played so often.
Your fingers stuttered for a split second and he saw. You felt him smirk against your neck, lips pressing a chaste kiss against your sweat covered skin. Every trace of oxygen left your lungs as blood rushed to your cheeks. You forgot how to breathe, body rigid and fingers tense. Yet you pushed through the song, with the promise that you would get back at him soon enough.
The next song began, You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison. And Gerard had begun to rant on for a moment. This was your shot. By now Frank was back on your right side, hands resting momentarily. Perfect. As Gerard spoke you moved to Frank. He gave you a look as if to say What are you doing? Yet you ignored him, shaking your head.
The last of Gerard’s words left his lips and you quickly grabbed Frank’s hair, licking a long stripe up the side of his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. You could taste the saltiness of his skin, almost wishing for seconds.Your hand tapped his back once you let go of his hair. Then you moved fully away, now standing close to the aforementioned frontman. A multitude of laughs from the band and audience rang through as Frank stood flustered, hands still on his guitar and his whole body unmovingly straight.
The rest of the song flew past with no issues, Frank unusually quiet and still. You had tried to ignore him, pretend like nothing had happened and continue the show. But the insistent warmth spreading through you each time you were close to him made it hard to push aside. The tension was so thick you would need the sharpest scissors to cut through it. The heat was unwavering, sweat practically forming a puddle at your feet. You felt it in your hair, on your face and resting in a sheer layer on your arms. One glance at Frank told you he was worse for wear. His hair stuck to his forehead and his shirt clung to his skin, showcasing each ridge of his body. His intricate tattoos taunting you. You could imagine tracing each inked drawing with your tongue, praising his body without mercy.
By the second last song he was more or less himself again. He would smirk when he felt your eyes and bask in the way your breath hitched every time he got close. As the song ended you felt him pressed into your back, breath fanning your neck once more before leaving with the band as Gerard performed Cancer.
Finally the show had finished, everyone flooding backstage. Claps on the backs and congratulations were echoed behind the scenes. Then his eyes found yours again from across the room. This time he didn’t look away, in fact he held your stare with unmatched intensity.
A hand on your back drew you away from Frank’s eyes, turning you see Gerard gleaming. “That was fuckin’ awesome right?” He prompts, hair shining and sticking to his forehead. His stupid sheriff's uniform was practically wet. A laugh rings through you.
Before long Gerard had migrated, standing near Ray as they chatted. Finally, you needed something to take the edge off and reaching into your bag you felt them. Cigarettes. With haste you lit one, taking a long drag and sighing with relief. Bitter smoke filled your lungs, the burn doing little to calm your nerves.
Then a hand ripped it out of your mouth when you finally zoned out. When your vision focused you saw Frank once more. That shit-eating grin plastered on his face as per usual. You watched him bring the cigarette to his lips, eyes locked with yours as smoke filled his lungs. With a deep sigh his smoke flew into your face. Once the air cleared you were met with Frank’s half lidded eyes, metaphorically undressing you.
“What exactly was that, sugar?” He asked, voice dripping like honey as he moved closer towards you. Your breath stuttered, heart racing whilst you fully processed the nickname; and then his question.
With a deep breath you answered as steadily as you could muster. “What? Can't let you have all the fun now, hm?” In one daring move your hand splayed across his chest, pushing him back as you leaned into him. “Besides, sharin’ is carin’, no?” Your lips grazed his earlobe, nipping slightly beside his gauge before pulling away completely.
That was it. He grabbed you, dragging you away from the crowd and down a hallway. The band eyed you, watching your feeble attempt to squirm out of his vise-grip. Gerard and Ray laughed, muttering something about not seeing the two of you until later. The staff could only stare, trying not to look too closely or think too much about what might happen between you both.
“Frank what’re you doing?!!” Your voice was haste, yet your words fell upon deaf ears. You felt his fingers flex over your arm and you couldn’t help but watch how each tattoo moved, your mouth suddenly dry. He led you to a small dressing room, locking the door behind you both as he pinned you to it.
“I’v had jus’ about enough of your teasing darlin,” His voice was gravel in the shell of your ear, fingers lacing in your hair before he tugged. Your head dropped back, mouth falling open as his lips began to attack your neck. He sucked hard, eliciting whines from you. Pleasure and pain mixing. “Mmph F-frank..” your voice was a hesitant whisper.
His head moved back, lips curving into his signature smirk. Then you felt those lips on your own, letting your mouth open obediently for him. His hands ran down your sides, grasping around your thighs and hoisting you upwards. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you ground down.“Fuck sugar..” He groaned against your lips, breathless. You felt his hard erection pulsing against your clothed heat causing a whine bubble in the back of your throat.
The air was hot, each of you still sweat soaked and panting. Adrenaline had coursed through you all afternoon but now something else took its place. Unwavering desire and need for the man holding you in place clouding any reasonable thinking. “Need you.. now.. p-please..” Your voice was soft, needy. Any sense of dignity and pride flew out of your body the moment his lips moved against yours. Not that you minded, with his jean-clad cock providing heavenly sweet friction.
He brought his lips to yours once more, moving in obscene synchronisation to your own. His rough fingers slipped under your shirt, calloused hands moving up your torso, leaving a trail of sweltering heat in their wake. You gasped, lips parting even wider into the kiss as your back arched off the wall. The heat between your thighs was hard to look past, mind numbing and succumbing to Frank’s blissful movements.
Your tongue danced with his easily, your hands raking through his sweaty, overgrown hair as you moved with him. “Shit sweetheart..” He mumbled, basking in the way you moaned against him. Your hands dropped, toying with his belt buckle insistently. “Mmprf..” You mutter, half out of concentration as well as trying to stifle any moans. You’d die on the spot from embarrassment if someone found the two of you.
“Shh.. shh darlin’ let me do it.” One of his hands found your hip and held you steady, the other reached to undo his belt and zipper. With your now free hands, you removed your shirt. You pulled the sweaty fabric off your head, discarding it somewhere beside the two of you. Then you tried your best to shimmy out of your shorts. When you looked up you saw him, jeans pulled down as he was in the process of removing his own black tank top. There he was, standing in front of you in all his glory. His chest glistened with sweat, showing off his large chest tattoos. Wordlessly your hands ran up and down his torso, feeling the slight muscle.
A soft groan left his lips, his free hand running down his face in an attempt to muffle himself.
“So beautiful Frank…” Your voice was an unsteady whisper, eyes transfixed on all of him.
That was, until he caught your attention with a desperate roll of his hips, causing a moan to slip through your kiss-swollen lips.
His fingers found your throbbing core, moving them quickly. He watched you squirm, noticed the way you bit your lip to cover your loud whines. It was too much, yet not enough at all.
“Need more of me hm?” He questioned in a broken tone, watching as you nodded straight away.
With that he lined himself up, pushing in slowly. Whines left his lips; one after the other in a continuous string. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer and when he finally bottomed out he almost came on the spot. He couldn’t help it. You just felt so good. Like heaven wrapped around him. His hips moved experimentally, loving the way your head fell back and you moaned.
“F-frank… god..” You managed to moan, hips rolling to match his unforgiving thrusts. The air had shifted, unspoken words hanging heavy. You watched him whine, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Then you felt him lick at his earlier handiwork.You knew you must have looked a mess, hair ruffled, lips swollen and parted, cheeks burning red, neck covered in lovebites. It was as if Frank were a painter, and you were his masterpiece.
You felt an ever present heat pool, coiling tight like it was about to burst. His hips ramming into your most sensitive areas at an almost super human pace. He had stopped speaking for the most part. The only noise leaving his mouth was a string of whines, mainly incoherent babbling. Although you were sure you heard your name a few times.
“S-shit sugar… Are you… mmmpphh!.. Are you close?” He babbled, kissing your neck feverishly. You tightened around him, nodding impatiently as the metaphorical cord inside you snapped. You painted his lower body, feeling his own release fill inside you. He panted in your ear, hips still chasing the aftershocks of his climax. Causing you to tether on the edge of overstimulation.
“Frank.. Frank enough… Mmph… Hurts..” You manage to speak, voice broken from your previous loudness. With a soft sigh he pulls out, leaving you with an unshakeable feeling of emptiness. You almost whined at the loss of contact before his arms wrapped around you. His nose found the back of your ear, trying but failing to steady his breath.
A loud knock on the door brought the two of you out of it, in a way ‘sobering’ you up. “You two fuckers done in there? Gerard sent me to see what all the hold up was. We gotta go.” Ray’s voice boomed from outside the door. Which just so happened to be right next to you. And with your uncaring loudness, everyone was sure to have heard you pitifully moaning Frank’s name.
Your cheeks flush as you scramble out of Frank’s hold. Knees weak, causing you to grasp the wall beside you. “We’re coming Ray.. chill dude,” Frank answers for you, voice breathless but filled with charm. He catches your eye and smirks, knowing you picked up on the double meaning to his words.
With a weak roll of your eyes you attempt to slide into your shorts. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel Frank’s release slip down your thigh. He notices, of course he does. Quickly he’s helping you, pulling your shorts up and yanking your shirt over your head. He’s already dressed, if not for his even more sweaty hair and flushed cheeks you wouldn’t have been able to make out what just happened.
You on the other hand, that was a different story. All Frank could do was smile, absolutely basking in the way he ruined you. Another knock caused you to jump ever so slightly.
“Hold on. Hold on.” Frank answered, partially annoyed. His hands found your waist as he looked you head on. “That was perfect darlin’. Now, are you ready to go?” His voice was sweet, laced with love and affection. When you nodded he led you out the door, but not before whispering in your ear.
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
areudirty
annaxmalina
