#i'll do a properly smutty follow up for you shortly

[pfhwrittes]

for @greatstormcat who asked for a simon or price version of this post (linked post is 18+ only - like this post!). so storm, i offer you whatever the hell this fluffy thing is. sorry that there's no smut but i seem to have been caught in yearning hours. i'll type up a smutty something for you soon!

TW: male submission, references to traffic light system style safewords, pet name "love" used to refer to reader, verbal praise. please assume all scene negotiation has been completed off-screen.

Pairing: john price x gender neutral reader

-- it's rare for john to ask for this. to ask to be put on his knees, hands clasped at the small of his back - a butchered facsimile of parade rest that you know that he knows down to his bones - with his beautiful blue eyes downcast in a breathtaking show of respect. so you treasure every moment he offers himself to you in this way, stripped naked before your adoring gaze.

"colour, sweetheart?" you prompt him gently, almost hesitant to disturb the hushed peace that's settled over his shoulders.

"green, love. always green with you." john replies equally gently, the tension fading from his brow as he settles more comfortably on the large cushion under his knees.

you smile to yourself, reassured that his left knee is co-operating today, and make a small mental note to move him into a different position before too long.

"good, thank you for telling me john." you run your fingers through his sandy brown hair, pleased with the way the soft lighting catches on the few greying hairs at his temples and with the way his eyelashes flutter closed at your praise.

john price is a handsome man at the best of times, but you can't help the way your breath catches as you take in the way tension seems to melt off his broad shoulders the longer he kneels at your feet.

"my beautiful man" you murmur, stroking a thumb over his bristly cheek - absolutely delighting in the fact that every time you praise him his blush spreads down his neck to his hairy chest.

john sighs in contentment and blinks his eyes open so he can share a small smile with you.

you tap his cheek gently with your thumb to catch his attention. "come on sweetheart, let's get you up and onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable"

john hums in agreement before pushing himself to his feet and you slip your hand into his to lead him gently towards the bed.

[anystalker707]

Only you (1/2)

Pairing: Frank x [afab] Reader Word count: ~ 4 700 Genre: Smut / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) isn't just an assistant to Frank, the same way Frank isn't just a tough mafia boss to them. Kind of content: Loving / Dirty talk / Praising / Restraints / Light oral fixation

Requested by anons [I dont notice many fics involving current Frank. Do you write those? If so, I would like to request one with current Frank x female reader. Smut. I'll leave the rest up to you. Go crazy. Blonde Frank + (...) something smutty from you featuring dilf!Frank as a big boss somewhere (whether mafia or just a CEO) with an afab reader who cleans his office. (...)]

a/n: “good one” is used in place/as a neutral of “good girl/good boy” because I didn’t feel like using “good (girl/boy/one)” would be visually nice, but you can change it while reading <3

>Part 2

Everything is peaceful until I start to clean the shelf of books behind the desk. The door opens, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and heavy breathing.

“Cortez, you know you’re not allowed—” Oh, fuck. Absolutely not Cortez. Nor Scott. Not someone I don’t know, though. A shiver runs down my spine as I suck in a breath, but I’m not able to do a lot.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d still be here,” Mr. Iero breathes, hanging his blazer by the door. “‘Didn’t mean to bother you, sorry.” He presses his lips together, but doesn’t really look at me as he makes his way to the armchair and starts to rummage through what I’ve just organized.

“No, it’s not a problem, sir,” I hum, continuing to clean the shelves. “Sorry for not greeting you properly, I didn’t know it was you.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he mumbles, voice distant as he messes with the notebooks I left aside earlier. “As you said, you didn’t know.”

No one says anything for a while, both of us only messing with our own stuff. If it were a few months ago, the occasional—and relatively rare—presence of not only the CEO of the Iero LTDA, but also Don of the most known gang of the country would have made me nervous. Uncountable rumors roamed around about how Frank was intimidating and absolutely annoying, but the night I met him when he walked in while I was cleaning told me a completely different story. I felt myself almost melting at how he mentioned loving my work along with the special extra things I did—sometimes leaving some ‘have a good day’ notes to him with coffee candies. All the fucking praises. He doesn’t even know how they make me feel.

Today, however... Well, the nervousness is actually due to another reason.

I glance at him, and he’s focused on his work. He looks good with his blazer off, only in his button up shirt, vest and tie, on top instead, the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms... nice arms. At first I didn’t imagine he would be that good looking, to be honest. I had in mind something like the old man from the Falcones’ or Wilson’s all scarred guy. Iero, however, only has a barely noticeable scar on his wrist, the rest of his skin only covered by his pretty tattoos.

The way he exhales and shifts on his chair almost makes me jump on my place, but he didn’t see that, right? Not like I was doing anything too bad, I was just observing him, nothing less, nothing more. It’s predictable when I see him cleaning his throat, however, so I’m not that startled, only set a little off when he looks at me.

“Can you grab me the folder regarding Electric Century?” He asks, scratching the stubble on his jaw.

I nod shortly, quickly heading to the adjoining room to get the folder from the cabinet. “Here, sir.” I let it on his desk, receiving a quick nod in response. My job of only cleaning his office evolved into something like a part-time secretary at some point. Soon, though, he is standing up to retrieve everything to its place, and I’m still cleaning the shelf when he is back.

“Long day, hun?” Mr. Iero retrieves a cigarette and his lighter from his inside pocket, lighting it as he moves to stand near one of the large windows; the smell of smoke is rarely strong, given the wide room. Even if he sometimes refers to me like this, it still makes me hum questioningly—also stupidly because who else would he be talking to if his phone is still over the desk? It’s almost as if I will never get used to the intimacy, no matter the fact we started getting closer long ago already. My job is to clean the office, help him, and sometimes tag along in important meetings; it barely gives me time to get used to this... side. “I asked if you had a long day, hun.”

“Kind of. I’m tired mostly because it’s the end of the day already, but it wasn’t that bad.” I sigh softly as I push a few books to the side, thinking a little back to the day, and at least having Gerard to talk with for most of the time didn’t make things so boring, but also didn’t make it any less tiring.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he hums. I glance back, thinking he’s probably looking out the window or something, just to see him looking right back at me, with the smoke escaping his lips.

“What about you, Mr. Iero?” I ask, probably a little too fast. Doesn’t matter.

“I told you to call me Frank when we’re alone!” He clicks his tongue, compelling me to chuckle. “But you know how tiring and stressful it is,” he sighs. “The others are on my feet again because a shipment got in the wrong hands... But it’ll be fine. I’m glad I could catch you here today, y’know?” Footsteps start echoing down the place and I raise an eyebrow, turning around to see him step closer, cig no longer in hand. I scoff softly—as if I was something special. “Because I get to thank you for taking care of me so well.” His breath fans over my cheek for a couple seconds with how he leans close. “Because you’re so good to me.”

“Frank.” I pat his chest lightly with a roll of eyes. “Don’t act like that.”

“Not act like that?” Frank glares, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the shelf, so I sigh and finally pay attention now that I can’t continue working. “You’re the one who bothers preparing me tea when I’m too stressed, and the only one able to talk me down from my stressed states.”

“The only one?” I raise an eyebrow, looking him up and down for any sign that he’s joking.

“The only one.” Frank nods, making me remember of the times he arrives here stressed after a long day of work or meeting that lasted a little too late. “Not to mention that one time you helped me.” He waves his hand in the air in a nonchalant manner, but it’s also the same hand with a couple scars deforming a few tattoos up his wrist, made at the same day as the scar a little above his eyebrow. Scott and Cortez are always too nervous around Frank to have moved a finger to help him, but I would’ve done it myself, either way. “So I think I’m allowed to act like that.” A pleased smile tugs on his lips at how I exhale, letting my gaze fall to the ground for a moment.

“Sure.”

“So I think you more than deserve me to thank you for taking care of me so well, right?” Frank’s voice lowers into something that’s barely a whisper, for some reason, while he gets his weight off the shelf to take a step closer. “To thank you for caring so much, always making sure everything is perfect, that everything is the way I want.”

Something about how he looks at me, through half-lidded eyes and with such a soft gaze, has all the objections I had disappearing from my head in seconds, replaced by a feeling that has my cheeks prickling as the warmth spreads itself up my neck and ears.

“Why don’t you take a break at least for today?” Frank raises an eyebrow—I frown. “Okay, at least for a little, hm?” He takes the cloth from my hand to toss it over his desk.

“No, Frank, I really need to do it!” I furrow my eyebrows, already feeling the guilt threatening to kick in because fuck, I need to do my job. I shake my head, almost reaching for the cloth when a hand catches my wrist.

“No, c’mon! I’m your boss, (y/n),” he scoffs, loosening his grip around my wrist as he runs his thumb over the skin soothingly. “If I say it’s okay, then it’s okay and you don’t have to worry about it. Got it?” His gaze only locks with mine for a second, but it’s enough to have me internally melting again while he brings my hand closer to inspect it from close, thumbs rubbing across my palm. “Your hand is trembling a little more than normal already, you’re tired.” He closes my hand over his to press a kiss to my knuckles. “My good one deserves a rest, right?”

A sigh escapes my lips as I furrow my eyebrows, looking at him in a silent plea that of course won’t do anything, but the attempt is worth it, right?

“C’mere,” Frank says softly, wrapping an arm around me in order to pull me for a hug, which I helplessly melt into with my hands only resting against his sides because I just can’t bring myself to hug him properly. The hug is comforting, though—he is warm and the way he holds me makes me feel safe. He smells good—the cigarettes’ smell is faint under the perfume and something indescribable, but pleasing.

I hum quietly, slowly allowing myself to melt into the hug and rest my head against his shoulder, shivering a little at the feeling of his hand on the small of my back and how close his face feels to mine, his breath fanning down my neck. “Because what am I going to do without you?” Frank asks in my ear, his eyelashes brushing against my forehead lightly as his stubble scratches my cheek. “Who’s going to take care of me so well other than you?”

My answer comes as nothing but an incoherent mumbling as I bring a hand up to Frank’s chest, where I rest it while I gather some courage to pull away a little, and cup his cheek, almost smiling at how he practically nuzzles my palm whilst leaning into the touch. “No one, of course. I don’t think anyone else notices how you’re just pathetic and needy.” Hearing this makes him immediately freeze, eyes widening a little, though not meeting my gaze. I almost smile at this, but I prefer not to change the mood because as much as Frank’s a big sweetheart, he’ll always put on a poor excuse of a tough posture to prove otherwise whenever it’s pointed out.

“No, not like that,” he mumbles, a red tone dusting his cheeks.

“Sure,” I breathe a chuckle and lean in to press a kiss to his cheek only for Frank to turn his face in a way his lips lock with mine. Processing the fact he is kissing me takes me a few seconds, thankfully not enough to have him pulling away before I return it. His lips are soft, even if he spends most of his time without touching a chapstick and running his tongue between his lips while thinking, but it’s also soft in a careful manner—the kiss is not only comforting, but has my heart fluttering a little in my chest, too, which does bring me a little of worry.

Frank furrows his eyebrows at me with how I pull away, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes as I decide on what to say until I exhale with a sigh, shaking my head. “I’ll make your life hell if you’re just using me,” I warn, but don’t want to hear any answer, only pressing my lips to his again before he can say anything, compelling him to hum softly whilst slowly melting into the kiss.

One of his hands moves to my hip, pulling me closer with a firm grip. A shaky breath escapes his nose with how I start to press kisses to his jaw, slowly trailing down to his neck.

“Hey, hey!” Frank’s breath hitches in his throat as he moves back a little until he manages to press his forehead to mine, brushing our noses together in an affectionate motion. “Let me take care of you, okay? Because you deserve it.”

It’s difficult to argue. In fact, I don’t. I only hum with a nod, letting Frank take a hold of both of my hands. The way he presses a couple kisses to each hand of mine gives me this feeling I can’t quite place, making my cheeks warm up again, the sensation spreading to the back of my neck and closing around my throat.

“Come on.” Frank takes me with him to the couch, and pulls me to his lap just before I can take a seat beside him, and quickly wraps his arms around my waist, face buried in my neck. “Hell, and you’re also so pretty, so beautiful, I can’t get over it.” His lips and stubble tickle my skin, having a quiet sound escape my throat, but it only has Frank burying his face deeper into it as he starts to nibble on the skin— Wait, fuck, Frank thinks I’m beautiful? A pleased sigh escapes my lips as I hold onto his shoulders, holding him closer while I manage to kick my shoes off to pull my feet over the couch.

“You’re also not bad yourself,” I tease with a chuckle, running my fingers through his hair. He comes to a momentary pause, which I use to adjust myself on his lap in a way I’m straddling him. Instead of giving me any sort of advantage, however, facing Frank makes me want to hide my face at the same moment, even if he looks at me with interest and surprise. “You’re...” I swallow. “Fuck, you’re beautiful as well. The kind where I could spend the whole time gazing at you–beautiful.”

Out of all the potential reactions I thought Frank would have, blushing and grinning stupidly is the last one I expected.

“Thank you.” He hums, pressing a kiss to my chest. “No one ever told me that.”

“I’m sorry about it.” I frown a little and give his shoulders a small squeeze.

“It’s okay, but it’s not time to talk about it, don’t worry,” he whispers, voice firm and caring. It always has this feeling stirring in the bottom of my stomach, so I just let him press kisses to my chest through the clothes.

Frank’s hands slip under my blazer until it drops to the floor, but he is more careful regarding my shirt. He unbuttons it slowly, from top to bottom, taking his time with the first three buttons to press kisses to each patch of skin exposed at time. Something about the way Frank treats me is... different. I don’t know how to deal with it. One thing I can conclude, though; he is literally keeping it up to his words, being careful... no, not exactly careful, there’s more of adoration lacing each of his actions.

“Are you just touch deprived or do you actually see something in me?” I make him look up, my lips grazing him as I speak.

“You’re practically my right hand in this company right now, with me most of the time,” Frank mumbles with a sigh, not stopping his motions until my shirt is open. “I reassure you I’m not thinking with my dick right now.” He chuckles a little at himself, making me roll my eyes playfully, giving him a soft kiss, one that he quickly pulls away from to take a look at me as the shirt falls to the floor. A quiet hum comes from him, more of a curious one as his hands fall close around my waist. Why is he taking so long?

“Frank—”

“Shh, let me appreciate you, hm?” His eyes meet mine as he leans in to press a kiss to my chest, nuzzling and kissing the skin, sometimes letting his teeth tug lightly on it.

“Don’t—”

“Because you’re so pretty, and all mine right now.” Frank sighs, making a quiet sound. “So good, so beautiful, and all for me. That’s quite a lot to take in at once, don’t you think? Even more after having spent some time wanting to reward you.” Something playful glints in his eyes before he pulls away, fingers fidgeting with the button of my slacks.

“Wait, wait!” I place my hands on his chest and can feel my cheeks heating up at the way he immediately looks at me, eyebrows furrowed lightly. “Let me see you, too?” I let my fingers trail along the collar of his vest, raising an eyebrow at him once I reach the buttons.

“You want to?” Frank tilts his head a little, scratching the side of his neck as his other hand falls from my waist to my hip, still with the same caring touch.

“It’s okay if not.” I press a kiss to his neck, bringing my hand up to play with his tie a little and rest it flat on his chest again.

“No, it’s not that, it’s fine.” He presses a kiss to my neck in return. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s alright, love, I promise.” His hand returns to my hip and his grip tightens a little around it as if to prove his words.

After a few seconds, I nod lightly and unbutton Frank’s vest, soon getting rid of his tie to start unbuttoning his shirt, and... Fuck. I swallow under his gaze and at the sight, letting my hands run up his torso, trailing along a few of his tattoos, until I cup his face again and bring him for a kiss, which he seems to appreciate, deepening it. The kiss has a newfound urgency, making me moan softly at how he pushes his hips up against mine, at first experimentally, but does it again—with more pressure, making it last longer—as he rubs circles into my hips, making my thighs quiver a little, having the more arousal pool down in my lower stomach. I need more of him.

“I’m going to take care of you so well,” he moans against my lips.

“Yeah, please,” I breathe before being pulled for another kiss, a longer one.

A smooth movement is enough to have me with my back against the couch, gasping a little as I clutch onto his shoulders, but slowly trail a hand up to his hair at feeling my lungs ache in plea for oxygen, so I tug onto the strands on the back of his head to pull him away a little. Frank moans against my lips, but doesn’t pull away completely, instead nibbling down on my bottom lip, and even dares sucking down on it a little at the same time he pushes his hips against mine again, which would be enough to make me complain for him to rush already if he wasn’t being so sweet the entire time. Each of his touches have me melting into him. Soon, though, his lips are working on a spot under my jaw and trailing a little lower. Wait, is he?—

“Frank— I won’t be able to cover it if you leave a mark that high—” I groan, tugging on his hair a little; the idiot moans against me. Fuck, he should be getting rid of our clothes and doing something already instead.

“And?” Frank scoffs, nonchalant. “Let them see you’re mine. Shush,” he returns to working on the spot, presumably until he deems it is enough, and honestly, I must look like a mess when he pulls up to observe me, but he still hums in appreciation at the sight, running his tongue between his lips. “How bad do you want it?” He asks, making me hum—did I hear it right? “You heard me.” A small grin tugs on his lips.

A shaky breath escapes my lips as I close my eyes for a moment. “Really bad, sir.” I hold back a smile at seeing him swallow dryly, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Of course you do,” Frank mumbles, but I doubt his words are directed to me, at least completely, but I doubt it even more that he doesn’t want me as bad as I want him. He takes a little too long to undo my pants and finally pull them down—after I give him a nod to go on—and they soon join my shirt on the ground along with my underwear before Frank proceeds to remove his own shirt and vest completely, quickly reassuming his position between my legs. It’s genuinely difficult to keep my attention away from the newly exposed skin; I helplessly wonder, though, about how his thighs would look, bare and flush against the couch while I kneel before him. “A little lost there, hun?” Frank’s voice brings me back to reality and I’m too far gone now to even feel the embarrassment because of it despite the playfulness in his smile.

“T’s just... Such a sight,” I mumble, holding onto his upper arms to pull him close for a kiss. He looks so beautiful and hot that it’s almost overwhelming.

“At least you have an idea of how I feel about you.” Frank kisses me again, deeper this time, letting his tongue slip past my lips and press down against mine—I sigh softly, giving his arms a light squeeze. “Okay, fuck, we’ve waited enough,” he groans and pulls away, seeming to think for a moment until he twists his mouth a little. “I got no condom, but I’m clean, okay?”

“Oh, right...” I pause. “Yeah, I’m clean too. It’s fine.” I hum, tracing lightly the anchor tattoo on his arm before his lips are pressed to mine again, for a shorter moment this time.

“I’ll stop if you want to, okay? Don’t be afraid to say so, hun, I don’t want to hurt you,” Frank says, voice quiet and deep, but also caring, hence he only tears his gaze away from mine after I give him a nod. He pulls back a little, to lower his pants, only doing so until the middle of his thighs due to his impatience, judging by the quiet grumbles escaping his lips. The impatience is very much appreciated, to say the truth—I moan simply at feeling his cock touch me, resting between my folds. “You good?” He squeezes my hips.

“Yes,” I breathe, letting one of my legs rest over the backrest and Frank seems to appreciate it, nodding as he pushes his hips against mine again and the feeling of his cock against my clit has my thighs twitching a little. “Fuck.”

The nice burning, result of the stretch of my entrance around Frank, has me holding my breath, stifling a few moans as I hold onto his shoulders the moment he is close enough again, finding comfort in the simple contact. Frank lets out a moan once he slips in completely, grip loosening around my hips for a moment as he breathes heavily against my neck.

“Y’feel so good, (y/n), baby,” he babbles, feeling and groping my thighs before his hands return to their previous spot.

All I’m able to do in response is to moan, not only because of how fuzzy my mind became, but also due to how Frank starts to thrust. His thrusts are shallow and slow at first, having us tense up shortly after each of his movements until he can build a proper rhythm, making me let out a long, low moan as I sink my nails into his shoulders, letting my hands trail down his back to give me more support according to how his thrusts grow harsher and my body rocks lightly with it.

“How does this feel, (y/n)?” Frank hums into my ear, his voice sounding a little whiny whilst the words run into one another. “Tell me.”

It’s difficult to gather the words I need for this, even more with how he is changing the angle of his thrusts lightly and— Fuck, he hits all the right spots, making my thighs quiver each time his hips meet mine and a louder moan escapes my lips. Sometimes he manages to graze against my clit, a brief and weak contact, but it’s already something, helping with the pleasure sent up my spine.

“(Y/n),” he groans, voice firmer. “The question.”

“A-Amazing!” I arch my back a little with a sigh. “J-Just— Right there, sir, don’t stop, please don’t stop!” I give up on any coherent thought, preferring to focus on how Frank feels, how it seems like he knows exactly what to do, from the beginning.

Thankfully, he lets out a pleased sound, hopefully regarding my answer.

“So much better than I could ever have imagined.” Frank’s fingers dig into my hips, the pain only compelling me to moan more, leaning into his touch—I’m not much different from him, my nails sinking into his back with my poor attempts of grasping on something, but he never complains, most likely enjoying it as well. One of his hands slides to between us, trailing up to the base of my neck then going down again, eventually having his thumb resting on top of my clit, stroking it frantically, which snatches a louder and higher-pitched moan that would have me embarrassed in another situation, in which my mind wouldn’t be so clouded with need.

The way I arch my back only increases the contact and I am easily feeling this sensation building in my lower stomach, far, but still there.

“Frank,” I breathe out heavily once he pulls his hand away.

Frank doesn’t reply this time, though. The thrusts stutter a little with how he moves to get both of my hands in his, then holds them to the cushion, above my head, where he has both of them together and... he pins my wrists together to the couch with a single hand, the other hooking under my knee so he can hold it up, almost against my chest.

“Fuck, (y/n),” Frank moans, the new position somehow allowing him to reach in deeper, having the pleased sounds escaping my lips more freely this time.

“‘M close!” I arch my back again. It feels so fucking amazing, almost muffling all the noise around us, the heavy breathing that gives place to the moaning and sometimes disappears under the obscene wet sound of skin meeting skin.

“Already?” Humor laces Frank’s voice. “Do I fuck you that well, hun? Because you fucking deserve it, don’t you? You’re so good to me, you’re my good one, the only one that I want, y’know that? You take care of me so well, you’re fucking perfect, (y/n). ‘Won’t let anyone else touch you, they don’t deserve you.” The words slip past his lips almost filthily, enough for my heart to flutter at the same time I’m squirming under him. “Who do you belong to, hm?” He whispers this time, and lets his tongue run along his bottom lip as he waits for an answer, looking at me through dilated pupils and half-lidded eyes. His hair sticks in all directions and the few strands that reach his face glue to his forehead due to the sweat.

“You, sir,” I gasp, choking the words out through a moan, and Frank doesn’t even have time to speak up again before I’m coming, arching my back against the couch as my thighs quiver with how the pleasure runs up them and stops right between my legs, slowly leaving behind a throbbing sensation. My hands are only kept into place due to Frank’s grip around them, his hands tightening around me as I squirm around him until I start to relax against the couch with a soft moan due to how he keeps moving.

“Fuck—” Frank says before pulling out and something lands on my inner thigh—his cum, some of it that managed to slip past his fingers. I watch him stroke himself down from his high, keeping my attention between his face and his hand until his breathing starts to even out. “Wow,” he mumbles, seeming a bit lost before his eyes meet mine and his features soften a little. He leans in for a kiss, his lips meeting mine sweetly. “So, would you like to come to my place?”

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>Part 2

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