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loverontheleft · 11 months

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Good Vibrations (Revised)

Original Request: Okay but here’s a thought: laundry day. Just trying to get that washing done, next thing you know make out session on top of the washer or dryer. He knows those vibrations have got you feeling something…

Brendon Urie x Reader

Warnings: language, sexual content

Word count: 1.6k ➡️ 3.1k

-||-

“Brendon Boyd Urie, I am trying to keep this house nice for you and you are distracting me!” Your voice is playfully scolding, and you shriek with laughter, releasing the pile of bedsheets, as he drags you down to the couch.

“I’m bored,” he whines once you’re nestled against him as his little spoon. “Laundry is boring.” His hands are exploring your body as he kisses a path along your neck, and you fight back the sigh of pleasure.

“It certainly isn’t the most exciting part of my day, but we both enjoy clean sheets, and since someone,” you roll over to face him and let your hand linger between his legs, “has been extra horny since he got home from tour, we have managed to go through our entire linen closet. So, I’ve got to do laundry, and you’ve got to keep your dick in your pants for a few hours.”

He looks offended. “I pulled you down on this couch to have a good time, and I am feeling so attacked right now.” You roll your eyes, shifting to give him an amused look that tells him you see through his bluff. You love him, but you both know the truth. “Okay, fine,” Brendon concedes. “Technically nothing you’ve said is inaccurate, but still!”

“‘Still!’ nothing,” you say with a small laugh, cupping his face affectionately and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m so fucking happy that you’re finally home, and if doing a ton of laundry is the price I pay for my husband bringing me to multiple screaming orgasms several times a day, so be it. But it turns out the price must be paid, and I’m afraid it’s due today.”

He groans, burying his face in your neck and clinging to you desperately. You stroke his hair, murmuring, “let me up, my love; we can have lunch and watch a movie or something once I get these sheets in the machine.”

“Fine.” He pouts and releases your waist so you can stand.

“Stop pouting, Urie,” you tell him without looking back, crossing to the laundry room. You load and start the machine; when you come back, he’s sprawled on the couch, shirtless. You straddle him and stroke over his bare chest while giving him a knowing look. “You’ve lost clothes since I left. What are you up to?”

“Just getting comfy.” He gestures at his sweatpants innocently. “I was already pretty much set with what I was wearing, but I figured you’d want my shirt, so I took it off.”

You nod, standing to wriggle out of your shorts and pull your tank top off. “Doesn’t hurt that you’re now shirtless,” you tease, slipping his soft t-shirt over your head.

“It is a perk,” Brendon concedes with a small grin. “Damn, you look good in my clothes. I fucking love you in my clothes and not much else.” He pulls you against him once you lie down, holding you close. “Hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the afternoon, pretty girl.”

You sigh contentedly as his fingers start drawing circles on your stomach under his shirt. “Nothing, besides the laundry.”

He smiles against the back of your neck. “And when that’s done, I can take you to bed?”

You roll over to look at him, pointing your finger at him playfully. “No. No sir. Not on the fresh, clean sheets.” He nips at your finger, grinning when you whimper.

“So, what I’m hearing is that we can have sex, just not in our bed.”

You nod eagerly.

“Huh. I didn’t think you’d give in so easily,” he muses, and it’s your turn to look offended.

“Hey, I love you and I love having sex with you.”

Brendon raises an eyebrow teasingly, and you slap his chest lightly. “Don’t give me that look. You’re so fucking sexy, you’ve got the perfect cock, and you make me come like crazy. You know how badly I’ve missed you. You know how badly I want you all the time. I just don’t love the idea of getting sheets dirty the moment they’re out of the dryer.”

He laughs, kissing under your ear and nuzzling you longingly. “I don’t think it’s perfect, but I appreciate the praise of my dick all the same. And yes, you’d like to keep our sheets clean—okay. I’ll do my best to cooperate, but only because I love you endlessly. Distract me please. You said something about food and a movie?”

-||-

“Mmmm, you feel good.” Your fingers run across his stomach, smiling when he tenses at your touch. “So warm,” you murmur, “and so solid. Your skin is so velvety soft, but your body is so hard underneath; I love it.” Your thumb dips under the waistband of his sweatpants, stroking the strip of skin between his hip bones.

“Sweet girl, I don’t think you’re watching the movie,” Brendon comments in a strained voice, touching your wrist. You toss a casual look over your shoulder toward the tv.

“Would you prefer I watch the movie?” You retract your hand and bite your lip. “Because I can definitely take my hand out of your pants, roll over, and watch… whatever this is, if that’s what you want, B.”

He groans, wrapping his hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips. After a soft kiss to your palm, he guides your hand back down. You curl your fingers around his cock, smiling when you find him half-hard. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” You stroke gently, kissing him when his lips part with a soft grunt.

“Honey, that feels so fucking—your hand is so good, but I need—just a little, oh fuck—”

His hips jerk, his head tips back, and you nod, knowing what he needs. You stretch over him and rummage in the end table drawer. “There should be some,” he reassures you, and you make a small, triumphant noise, coming back with the tiny, travel-size bottle of lubricant stored there.

“Just a little,” he repeats, and you pour a dime-sized amount in your hand, tugging his sweatpants down with the other hand. “Yeah honey, that feels so damn good,” he murmurs, rocking into your newly slick grasp.

“You like that?” Your voice is soft, and he nods, biting his lip. “Love feeling your hard cock in my hand,” you whisper, tightening your fingers and speeding up. “God, just look at you,” you tell him, and both of you watch the tip of his flushed cock disappear and reappear as your hand moves over him urgently. “You’re so goddamn sexy. Love playing with your cock, stroking you and feeling you react. Love when you twitch in my hand and start leaking pre-cum, so I can go faster. This warming lube is so hot and slick; bet it’s so easy to imagine my pussy instead of my hand, imagine me riding this perfect cock until you fill me with your cum.” You’re both breathing heavily, and he cups the back of your head, bringing your mouth back to his.

“Wanna feel you, baby. Let me feel your hot, slick cunt.” Brendon slips his free hand down into your panties, groaning when he feels how wet you are. “Fuck,” he chokes out, running two fingers against you. You rock back against him, pressing down so his fingers slide into you. “That’s it, wrap your hand around my cock and jerk me off while you ride my fingers, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth, finding a good rhythm with his fingers that has you trembling and whining.

You’re kissing him again, opening your mouth to his tongue, clutching him closer with your free hand, still stroking his cock desperately when the washer buzzes. “Sheets are done,” you tell him, pulling away and crawling off the couch. “Gotta put them in the dryer.”

“Don’t go,” Brendon groans, trying to keep you close, but you shake your head.

“Gotta get them in the dryer. Can’t leave them sitting there, wet.”

“You should be sitting on my cock, wet,” Brendon mumbles, and you laugh. “Yeah okay,” he admits, “that wasn’t my smoothest line. But I can’t be expected to come up with superb, flirtatious wordplay when I’ve got my sexy wife playing with my dick.”

“Shit, I’ll be right back,” you promise breathlessly. Walking a little unsteadily, you set off for the laundry room. You can feel the slickness on your inner thighs, and you’re using all your willpower to walk away from your almost naked, achingly hard husband on the couch. But if you don’t put the sheets in the dryer now, there’s no telling when you’ll do it; if you wait too long, you’ll need to rewash them.

You’ve finished moving the laundry when Brendon’s hands close over your hips; he spins you around and lifts you onto the dryer before he nudges it shut with his knee.

“Couldn’t wait for you to get back. Needed to get two fingers deep in your wet pussy and make you come.” Brendon’s voice is low and rough; you can hear how turned on he is. You whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. He grins and kisses you hard, reaching behind you to turn the dryer on. It starts with a rumble, and you whine happily as the vibrations jolt through you.

He steps closer between your legs, and you inch to the edge so you can press against him, your slick heat only separated from his stomach by the silk of your underwear. You lean down slightly to one side, groping at his erection through his pants, and he tugs them down. His cock springs loose, and you moan, closing your hand around him again.

Brendon tangles a hand in the back of your hair, crushing his mouth over yours, tongue teasing as the dryer shakes under you. His other hand slips down into your panties, thrusting and curving urgently. You grind against his fingers while you stroke his cock, and the dryer vibrating under you pushes you closer and closer to the edge of climax.

“Fuck, Brendon,” you sigh into his mouth, and he groans in response, moving to rub your clit in small, firm circles. Your hair has fallen, and your face is flushed; between the dryer and his fingers, you can feel your orgasm coming up fast.

He leaves your mouth and moves his lips up your neck to your ear. “Gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna come in these panties and let me clean you up with my tongue? I want to lick your perfect cunt clean before I give you my cock and make you come all over it. You want that too?”

You nod, whimpering. You’re so fucking close.

“Then do it, baby. Come for me. Be a good girl. Come on my fingers; soak ‘em for me.” Brendon presses up slightly, and you cry out; your hand tightens around his dick as your orgasm rips through you. He curls his fingers—before your first is over, your second is starting. You’re shaking, and you know you would be, even without the dryer working under you; your strokes over him are getting sloppy and erratic. “Tighter, baby,” he gasps, and you squeeze hard. “Yeah, love that.”

He’s bucking into your fist while his fingers rock in and out of you, and part of you feels bad that he’s doing all the work, but the other, bigger, part of you just feels warmth and sparks all over. His teeth have a lock on his lower lip and his eyes are fluttering shut, so you know he’s close. “You gonna come for me?” Your voice is desperate, and you squeeze even tighter.

Brendon nods; you slide off the dryer, which momentarily pushes his fingers deeper into you—only a bonus, as far as you’re concerned. They slip from you when you drop to your knees though, and you remove your hand to take all of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he gasps and tries to keep still, not wanting to hurt you with his short, desperate thrusts. You moan around his cock and look up at him desperately; he knows exactly what you mean. You always love blowing him, but sometimes you want it a little rougher. There’s something about his hands tangled in your hair and his cock pressing to the back of your throat that makes you feel a little dirty; you love the way he calls you his perfect cockslut and tells you to swallow for him. When you give him permission, like right now, he can thrust freely, really take your mouth, and you both love how he tugs your hair while holding you still for him.

Now, your jaw slackens, and you twist your tongue over his length as he rocks in and out of your mouth urgently; you’re savoring the slightly tangy taste of pre-cum that’s replaced the lubricant. You make a circle with your thumb and index finger to wrap around the base of his cock and squeeze his balls with the other hand; his hand comes down and tugs at your hair. “Holy hell, that feels amazing,” he murmurs, “but if you want my cum in you, I can’t come right now.”

You�� rise, rubbing your body against him as you tug his sweatpants back up. He grabs your ass and pulls you closer. “Missed your fucking mouth, damn. Need to get my girl off again first though.”

“Thank god, I’m so wet,” you whimper, pressing your hips forward so you can grind against him. “And you’re so damn hard; I fucking love your thick cock. Shit, I want you. Can I— can we…Bren, I need you on me. In me. Both. Please.”

Brendon knows exactly what you need, and he lifts you back up on top of the dryer. You stretch out across it and the washing machine, relishing the way the rumbling sends tremors through your body. “Pretty sure this can hold us both,” Brendon mutters as he hoists himself up and settles over you. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer; you can feel his cock through his sweatpants, and you rub against him needily.

“God, you feel so good,” you moan, clinging to him and grinding with greater intensity. He’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, and he’s working back against you with urgency.

“Want to make you come,” Brendon groans in your ear as he grips your hips and thrusts hard. “Feel like a teenager again, grinding and dry humping all over the house, getting you off with your clothes on, having my cock sucked. But I wanna make you come in these pretty panties just like this again, peel them off you, and eat you out ‘til you come on my face. Gonna lick your clit, finger your sweet pussy,” he promises. “Gonna eat this perfect cunt and then fuck you so good.”

Your back arches and you squeal as your orgasm rushes through your body. Brendon is breathing hard, and you wiggle against him, begging for his cock. “Need you. Need your cock. Eat my pussy later; cock now,” you insist, and he nods decisively.

“Gonna give it to you, sweet girl.”

You’re in a fog of lust and only vaguely aware of his hands tugging your underwear down, but you’re laser-focused when he kneels between your legs on top of the dryer and shoves his sweatpants off. His cock never fails to take your breath away; he’s the perfect size, and the thickness combined with a gentle upward curve means he fills you entirely and presses right where you need him most with every thrust. Right now, he’s gripping his length with one hand, stroking slowly, and you can see the beads of precum glistening at the tip.

You reach down and spread yourself with two fingers for his view, smiling in satisfaction when he groans and his cock twitches in his grasp. “Fuck your wife,” you say simply, gasping and clutching at his back when he fills you with one fluid thrust. “God, I missed you,” you moan in his ear, lifting your hips slightly to meet him at each thrust.

“Home now, baby,” he pants, biting gently along your shoulder and grabbing your waist. “Home now and missed you so badly; a week of fucking hasn’t even begun to make up for—fuck, squeeze around my dick like that, just like that,” Brendon urges. “You want me to come in you? You want my cum deep in your perfect pussy?”

“Need it,” you whine, scratching at his back and arms. “Fill me. Fuck me. Come in me. Oh shit, I’m—Bren, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Be my good girl; come on my cock,” he manages, and you shriek as your vision blurs into streaks of white and black static.

Your entire body is trembling, and all you can feel are the pulsing waves of hot tension and the fullness between your thighs that always drives you wild. “Now, for you,” Brendon grunts, and his desperate kiss consumes you while his cock throbs. He spills into you; it makes you gasp happily and press yourself to him. He’s breathing hard over you, hair matted to his forehead and face flushed, and you whimper as he pulls out. No matter how much he comes in you, you still feel empty whenever he withdraws.

“Fuck, I came a lot,” he mumbles, staring down between your thighs before crawling off the washing machine and scooping you into his arms. “Should get us into the shower.”

You nod tiredly; your muscles are quivering, your mind is sated and blissfully blank, and you feel like you could fall asleep. This crash is normal for you, and Brendon dips his head down to kiss you sweetly.

“Gonna lean you up against the shower wall and scrub you down. Massage you with that body oil you love and towel-dry you before carrying you to our bed.”

“Need those fucking sheets to dry first,” you murmur, yawning and burying your face in his neck.

“Can I tell you a secret, sweet girl? I ordered new sheets. They’re on the porch; they were delivered about an hour ago.”

“Thank god,” you groan, going limp in his arms. “I fucking love you. Go get them, and then take me to the shower. Once we’re clean, I need those new sheets on the bed, followed by you on me.”

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