Slut!
Title: Slut!
Author: tabbyscout
Beta: funeralxjag
Rating: MA
Summary: Gerard is a whore.
Frank knows it and he loves it. They’re on stage, the crowd is screaming and Gerard is feasting on it. He’s strutting. His hands flutter in the air, pale doves dancing and beating their wings, as he screams and sings into the microphone. He drops to his knees, hard enough that Frank could swear he feels the stage thump with it. Gerard’s hand runs along his thigh and he moans his words to the audience.
Warnings: Violent sex, profanity, D/s relationship
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people represented here. This is a work of fiction. Part of this ‘verse: Attention Whore
Gerard is a whore.
Frank knows it and he loves it. They’re on stage, the crowd is screaming and Gerard is feasting on it. He’s strutting. His hands flutter in the air, pale doves dancing and beating their wings, as he screams and sings into the microphone. He drops to his knees, hard enough that Frank could swear he feels the stage thump with it. Gerard’s hand runs along his thigh and he moans his words to the audience.
He’s a whore.
The tight jeans he wears are ripped near the crotch. He flashes a pale thigh to the audience and Frank’s eyes zoom to the spot in an instant. His fingers just barely manage to lay the next chords as his mind swims with lust. His cock is hard, pressing against the metal of his zipper. It’s all so familiar. It reminds him of when he first joined the band.
He’s pretty sure he fell for Gerard the moment he saw him.
Dirty, drunk, and sprawled out on the floor of his basement bedroom with a pen in his hand, Gerard stole Frank’s attention. He babbled things Frank couldn’t understand while Mikey searched for clean paper for his words. Never had Frank seen someone so beautiful, so fucked up, and perfect at the same time. They talked and Gerard proclaimed his adoration of Frank when he saw his tattoos and he offered to buy them all more liquor.
Gerard spent the entire night hitting on Frank, making sexual suggestions as he leered at him. And when the band settled down to watch a movie later, Frank received a hand job in the dark that Gerard didn’t remember the next morning. He apologized for not remembering with a blow job. Frank was pretty sure, even then that it was love.
Now Gerard’s on his feet again, his hips moving in ways that would make a stripper jealous and Frank is completely enamored and not quite sure how he’s managing to play the chords. All he wants to do is go over and fuck Gerard against the drum set, against the support beams of the stage, hell against Mikey if the younger male gets in the way. He rubs his hips forward, grinding into the back of the guitar and falling back on stage as he keeps his eyes fixed on Gerard.
Gerard notices and glances over his shoulder at Frank with a goofy, crooked grin on his cracked lips.
Whore, Frank mouths to him before he turns away.
Frank rushes off stage when they’ve finished. He hides himself in the bathroom and waits until his erection isn’t painful to the point where one touch would make him come. When he’s relaxed somewhat, he instantly seeks out Gerard with the plan to punish him. The dirty little slut has it coming.
He finds Gerard in the dressing room. The elder male is sitting in a chair with his legs crossed as he fiddles with his lighter. He’s humming to himself and a cigarette is perched between his lips, the tip glowing as he inhales around it. “Frankie?” he asks, looking over his shoulder when the door slams shut. “What’s up?”
“My dick,” Frank says dryly, moving towards the redhead in the chair. “And it’s all your damn fault.”
Gerard giggles, fucking giggles at Frank, and flicks his ashes to the floor. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re a fucking slut,” Frank hisses at him.
Hazel eyes darken and Frank smirks as he sees lust and realization dawn in Gerard’s eyes. It’s going to be one of those nights. Both of them know it. A night where by the time they’re finished Gerard won’t be able to walk without limping and Frank will be smug for weeks.
“A whore. A huge, fucking whore.” Frank is advancing on Gerard, his eyes focused on the cigarette that goes back between the elder male’s lips. “Every time I walk in the dressing room I’m surprise I don’t find you on your knees, sucking off strange men.”
Gerard smirks. “But sugar,” it’s one of his low purrs. “I do spend my evening sucking off a strange man.”
There’s a loud sound of skin-on-skin when Frank slaps Gerard hard across the face. The elder male’s lips part and he looks at Frank with wide eyes, a barely perceptible moan leaving his lips. Frank waits, makes sure that Gerard’s okay with it as he always does. But the hunger doesn’t die from Gerard’s eyes and Frank smirks.
“Stop being a smartass bitch.” Frank’s fingers clutch at Gerard’s hair and he forces him up, plucking the cigarette from his fingers.
He takes a grab from it, blowing the smoke into Gerard’s face before lifting his shirt up. Bruises cover the elder male’s pale skin, hidden just barely by his tight clothes and he smirks. “Gonna give you something that will remind you of me.”
Frank tugged Gerard’s pants down to expose his hips, eyeing them. Teeth marks litter the skin, bruises, red, purple, blue, colors mixing together from Frank. The red end of the cigarette crushes down into the hollow next to Gerard’s hip and the redhead’s hips jerk violently. The moan that falls from his lips is loud, his lashes fluttering as he clutches to the vanity in front of him.
“Frankie,” he breaths.
Frank smirks, dropping the butt to the floor and pushing Gerard back against the table. “Such a wicked little slut for me huh?” he coos.
Gerard nods and Frank tugs his own shirt off. Slender, pale fingers instantly move to clutch at his bare arms and the guitarist moans as the singer’s blunt nails dig into the skin. “Gonna fuck you so hard,” Frank growls. “So hard. You’re getting punished for being a bad, bad boy.”
The singer tilts his head back and Frank attaches his teeth to the exposed throat. He undoes Gerard’s pants and pushes them down. “Turn around,” he commands, pulling away.
His fingers slide over his own belt, fumbling with the clasp as Gerard’s ass comes into view. He eyes him as if he wants to devour him, dark glinting in his eyes. His cock is hard again, fully hard and pre-cum glints on the tip. “Spread your legs,” he said. His voice is quiet now, low.
Slender thighs part and Gerard is trembling in anticipation. Frank doesn’t let him know just when he’s going to get what he wants. He waits, his fingers stroking his own cock slowly as he stares. It’s all over when Gerard rocks his hips against the table to rub his cock over the cool wood for relief. Frank can’t take it. He knows he has to have the other. Gerard is desperate and Frank is driven. His hands grip at bruised hips and he wastes no time pushing in, slamming in.
There’s no preparation. He knows it hurts. He can see Gerard’s face in the mirror, tears rising in his eyes and clinging to lovely dark lashes even as he moans and presses back. His thigh spread even wider, his chest resting on the table and his reddened cheek pressing to the cool glass of the mirror.
The sounds he makes as Frank begins to fuck him, long, hard thrusts that made the mirror shake and Gerard’s hips slam against the wood hard. Gerard was moaning, his eyes closed and a tear rolling down his cheek. His lips parted, a little grunt leaving his lips as he slid his body down more so that he could press harder against Frank’s cock.
He begs and begs. “Touch me. Plea-fuck-please. Touch me.”
Frank isn’t listening. He’s working hard, sweat clinging to his inked skin as his muscles tense. It doesn’t take long for him to feel his climax approaching. He’s hard, harder than he’s ever been it feels like and Gerard’s so tight and hot and eager around him. He wants to come. He wants to come and wants to coat Gerard with it. He wants to make Gerard beg more.
He thrusts and thrusts. His nails draw blood on Gerard’s hips and then all of a sudden he’s pulling out with a loud curse as he coats the back of Gerard’s thigh with his cum. Gerard’s whining, his hips rocking for relief even though Frank’s not in him anymore. “Please. Please.”
Frank reaches around, grabs Gerard’s cock, and gives it a squeeze. It’s hard, leaking and he lets it go as he pulled his own pants back on.
“Go get us a motel room,” he says, not looking at Gerard now. If he does he won’t be able to stop himself from fucking him again.
“The filthiest, dirtiest one you can find. I’m going to fuck you like the whore you are.”
Author: tabbyscout
Beta: funeralxjag
Rating: MA
Summary: Gerard is a whore.
Frank knows it and he loves it. They’re on stage, the crowd is screaming and Gerard is feasting on it. He’s strutting. His hands flutter in the air, pale doves dancing and beating their wings, as he screams and sings into the microphone. He drops to his knees, hard enough that Frank could swear he feels the stage thump with it. Gerard’s hand runs along his thigh and he moans his words to the audience.
Warnings: Violent sex, profanity, D/s relationship
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people represented here. This is a work of fiction. Part of this ‘verse: Attention Whore
Gerard is a whore.
Frank knows it and he loves it. They’re on stage, the crowd is screaming and Gerard is feasting on it. He’s strutting. His hands flutter in the air, pale doves dancing and beating their wings, as he screams and sings into the microphone. He drops to his knees, hard enough that Frank could swear he feels the stage thump with it. Gerard’s hand runs along his thigh and he moans his words to the audience.
He’s a whore.
The tight jeans he wears are ripped near the crotch. He flashes a pale thigh to the audience and Frank’s eyes zoom to the spot in an instant. His fingers just barely manage to lay the next chords as his mind swims with lust. His cock is hard, pressing against the metal of his zipper. It’s all so familiar. It reminds him of when he first joined the band.
He’s pretty sure he fell for Gerard the moment he saw him.
Dirty, drunk, and sprawled out on the floor of his basement bedroom with a pen in his hand, Gerard stole Frank’s attention. He babbled things Frank couldn’t understand while Mikey searched for clean paper for his words. Never had Frank seen someone so beautiful, so fucked up, and perfect at the same time. They talked and Gerard proclaimed his adoration of Frank when he saw his tattoos and he offered to buy them all more liquor.
Gerard spent the entire night hitting on Frank, making sexual suggestions as he leered at him. And when the band settled down to watch a movie later, Frank received a hand job in the dark that Gerard didn’t remember the next morning. He apologized for not remembering with a blow job. Frank was pretty sure, even then that it was love.
Now Gerard’s on his feet again, his hips moving in ways that would make a stripper jealous and Frank is completely enamored and not quite sure how he’s managing to play the chords. All he wants to do is go over and fuck Gerard against the drum set, against the support beams of the stage, hell against Mikey if the younger male gets in the way. He rubs his hips forward, grinding into the back of the guitar and falling back on stage as he keeps his eyes fixed on Gerard.
Gerard notices and glances over his shoulder at Frank with a goofy, crooked grin on his cracked lips.
Whore, Frank mouths to him before he turns away.
Frank rushes off stage when they’ve finished. He hides himself in the bathroom and waits until his erection isn’t painful to the point where one touch would make him come. When he’s relaxed somewhat, he instantly seeks out Gerard with the plan to punish him. The dirty little slut has it coming.
He finds Gerard in the dressing room. The elder male is sitting in a chair with his legs crossed as he fiddles with his lighter. He’s humming to himself and a cigarette is perched between his lips, the tip glowing as he inhales around it. “Frankie?” he asks, looking over his shoulder when the door slams shut. “What’s up?”
“My dick,” Frank says dryly, moving towards the redhead in the chair. “And it’s all your damn fault.”
Gerard giggles, fucking giggles at Frank, and flicks his ashes to the floor. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re a fucking slut,” Frank hisses at him.
Hazel eyes darken and Frank smirks as he sees lust and realization dawn in Gerard’s eyes. It’s going to be one of those nights. Both of them know it. A night where by the time they’re finished Gerard won’t be able to walk without limping and Frank will be smug for weeks.
“A whore. A huge, fucking whore.” Frank is advancing on Gerard, his eyes focused on the cigarette that goes back between the elder male’s lips. “Every time I walk in the dressing room I’m surprise I don’t find you on your knees, sucking off strange men.”
Gerard smirks. “But sugar,” it’s one of his low purrs. “I do spend my evening sucking off a strange man.”
There’s a loud sound of skin-on-skin when Frank slaps Gerard hard across the face. The elder male’s lips part and he looks at Frank with wide eyes, a barely perceptible moan leaving his lips. Frank waits, makes sure that Gerard’s okay with it as he always does. But the hunger doesn’t die from Gerard’s eyes and Frank smirks.
“Stop being a smartass bitch.” Frank’s fingers clutch at Gerard’s hair and he forces him up, plucking the cigarette from his fingers.
He takes a grab from it, blowing the smoke into Gerard’s face before lifting his shirt up. Bruises cover the elder male’s pale skin, hidden just barely by his tight clothes and he smirks. “Gonna give you something that will remind you of me.”
Frank tugged Gerard’s pants down to expose his hips, eyeing them. Teeth marks litter the skin, bruises, red, purple, blue, colors mixing together from Frank. The red end of the cigarette crushes down into the hollow next to Gerard’s hip and the redhead’s hips jerk violently. The moan that falls from his lips is loud, his lashes fluttering as he clutches to the vanity in front of him.
“Frankie,” he breaths.
Frank smirks, dropping the butt to the floor and pushing Gerard back against the table. “Such a wicked little slut for me huh?” he coos.
Gerard nods and Frank tugs his own shirt off. Slender, pale fingers instantly move to clutch at his bare arms and the guitarist moans as the singer’s blunt nails dig into the skin. “Gonna fuck you so hard,” Frank growls. “So hard. You’re getting punished for being a bad, bad boy.”
The singer tilts his head back and Frank attaches his teeth to the exposed throat. He undoes Gerard’s pants and pushes them down. “Turn around,” he commands, pulling away.
His fingers slide over his own belt, fumbling with the clasp as Gerard’s ass comes into view. He eyes him as if he wants to devour him, dark glinting in his eyes. His cock is hard again, fully hard and pre-cum glints on the tip. “Spread your legs,” he said. His voice is quiet now, low.
Slender thighs part and Gerard is trembling in anticipation. Frank doesn’t let him know just when he’s going to get what he wants. He waits, his fingers stroking his own cock slowly as he stares. It’s all over when Gerard rocks his hips against the table to rub his cock over the cool wood for relief. Frank can’t take it. He knows he has to have the other. Gerard is desperate and Frank is driven. His hands grip at bruised hips and he wastes no time pushing in, slamming in.
There’s no preparation. He knows it hurts. He can see Gerard’s face in the mirror, tears rising in his eyes and clinging to lovely dark lashes even as he moans and presses back. His thigh spread even wider, his chest resting on the table and his reddened cheek pressing to the cool glass of the mirror.
The sounds he makes as Frank begins to fuck him, long, hard thrusts that made the mirror shake and Gerard’s hips slam against the wood hard. Gerard was moaning, his eyes closed and a tear rolling down his cheek. His lips parted, a little grunt leaving his lips as he slid his body down more so that he could press harder against Frank’s cock.
He begs and begs. “Touch me. Plea-fuck-please. Touch me.”
Frank isn’t listening. He’s working hard, sweat clinging to his inked skin as his muscles tense. It doesn’t take long for him to feel his climax approaching. He’s hard, harder than he’s ever been it feels like and Gerard’s so tight and hot and eager around him. He wants to come. He wants to come and wants to coat Gerard with it. He wants to make Gerard beg more.
He thrusts and thrusts. His nails draw blood on Gerard’s hips and then all of a sudden he’s pulling out with a loud curse as he coats the back of Gerard’s thigh with his cum. Gerard’s whining, his hips rocking for relief even though Frank’s not in him anymore. “Please. Please.”
Frank reaches around, grabs Gerard’s cock, and gives it a squeeze. It’s hard, leaking and he lets it go as he pulled his own pants back on.
“Go get us a motel room,” he says, not looking at Gerard now. If he does he won’t be able to stop himself from fucking him again.
“The filthiest, dirtiest one you can find. I’m going to fuck you like the whore you are.”