#brendon urie x reader fanfic

[loverontheleft]

Yes (revised)

Original request: ok, this request is very specific because I fantasize about it a lot. you and b are roommates (nonfamous AU) and ur in the shower, rubbing one out, having a grand ol’ time and b gets home and BARRELS into the bathroom cuz he has to pEE like nOW and obvs catches on to what ur up to and offers a hand. or a mouth. or a dick. whatevs.

AU!Brendon x reader.

Word count: 2.7k➡️6.7k

Warnings: language, dirty talk, oral, brief thigh-riding because it’s me, shower sex, talk of spanking, general feelings and shit.

-||-

The shower is the perfect temperature; the ceramic tiles are no longer cold to the touch and you’re leaning against the wall with your handheld shower-head pulsing on a low pressure between your legs. “Oh fuck,” you sigh, rolling your hips against the stream. You’re lost in the sensation, letting yourself imagine Brendon’s soft, eager tongue working at your clit, when the floor outside your bathroom door creaks. Before you can do anything, the door slams open; Brendon’s flying into your bathroom, and you’re shrieking.

“Shit! What the fuck?!”

Brendon babbles his apologies. “Got stuck in crazy traffic had to pee barely made it inside couldn’t make it to my bathroom,” he says in one breath, sighing in relief. You’re trying to catch your breath; the showerhead is still between your legs and when you move it, it hits at just the right angle. You whimper a little, before clapping a hand over your mouth in horror.

“Y/n?” You can practically hear Brendon’s head cock to the side. “Are you…okay?”

“Uh huh,” you manage in a strained voice, silently willing him to leave.

“Okay…you just sounded…Wait a minute—are you getting off in there?”

There’s a long pause, and you know that says more than enough. You choose honesty. “I was trying to,” you say through gritted teeth, and he makes a thoughtful sound. “Until my roommate came bursting in and threw off my—”

“Groove?” Brendon suggests, and you want to throttle him. “My bad. But if you want to start again, I could hel—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply, replacing the shower head in its clip and slamming the water off.

“Just saying, I apparently owe you, and I’ve helped bef—”

“Shut up,” you tell him, wrapping yourself in a towel and flinging the curtain back. “We said we wouldn’t talk about that again.” His gaze moves slowly over your body wrapped in the towel, and he looks up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Seriously, Brendon. That was a one-time thing; we were both incredibly drunk and horny, and we didn’t even—you just—we just—I just—” you falter, fumbling for the words. You’re equally aroused at the memory and frustrated that he’s being so casual about it. All these months later and you still aren’t sure what his feelings are, but his joking now makes you think it wasn’t that serious for him—which hurts. But the way he’s looking at you now—

“Yeah,” Brendon murmurs, cutting off your thoughts and still eying you. “I just fingered you while we just made out and you just gave me one of the best han—”

“Shut up!” You press your hands to your face. “You promised!”

Brendon holds up both hands innocently as he heads for the door. Stepping through, he looks back at you. “Well, the offer stands. You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

You freeze at the name and turn to stare at him. He arches an eyebrow and bites his lip suggestively; you storm past him into your room across the hall.

“Oh, don’t be angry, Y/n. I just want to help!” He calls through your door, which you’ve just slammed shut. “I’m sorry, darlin!”

-||-

“Fuck—fuck—fuck—no!” You moan, rolling onto your stomach, fingers rubbing at your clit furiously. “Why—fuck!” You’re almost in tears, and you bury your face in your pillow, moaning in desperation. You need to come. “Well, the offer stands. You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.” His voice echoes in your head, and you freeze, remembering that night. You can feel your heart rate spiking; you try to press the memories back into their small box.

-//- 6 months earlier -\\-

It’s been a hell of a week for both of you at your respective jobs, and Brendon has declared it Drunk Movie Night as a coping mechanism. He’s in the kitchen, and you’re sprawled on the couch waiting for him to come back with the first round of drinks. He’s promised something incredible and delicious, and you’re looking forward to it.

You can hear his footsteps; you look up. He’s got two large glasses in his hand, filled with clear liquid. “What is that?”

“No spoilers,” Brendon chides playfully, passing you a glass. He takes a long sip, and you do the same. You choke, immediately coughing. “It’s straight tequila,” he admits, making you laugh.

“You aren’t fucking around on this drunk movie night thing, I see.” Better prepared now, you take a small sip from your glass. Brendon nods and settles on the couch at the opposite end. Glass in one hand, remote in the other, you turn on the tv. When you open Hulu, prepared to scroll, Brendon flings a hand at you and then points at the screen.

“Black Swan,” he says. You blink at him. Brendon can see your confusion, and he clarifies. “Black Swan. The Natalie Portman ballet movie. Wait. You’ve never seen it?”

You shake your head, commenting that he doesn’t seem like the type for a ballet film, and Brendon shrugs. “It’s deeply fucked up. You’d like it.”

“…thanks, I think?”

He grins, lounging back against the couch cushions. You click Play.

-||-

You’re both done with your first tumblers of tequila and halfway through a refill. You’ve done the math; the two of you are drinking from sixteen-ounce glasses, so being halfway through a second glass means you’re at the equivalent of your sixth margarita, sans any mixer. But you don’t need math to know you’re both more than a little drunk when Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis lunge at each other in the bedroom. You toss a pillow in Brendon’s direction; it ricochets off his foot and falls to the ground.

“You pervert. This is why you wanted to watch Black Swan?”

“It’s a definite factor,” Brendon murmurs, his eyes on the screen. You glance back at the tv, and your breath catches. You’re not enjoying this the way Brendon is; instead, you are painfully aware of how long it’s been since someone pushed you onto a bed like that. You’ve been so caught up in work, but you’ve also been trying to process your feelings for Brendon. Living together has been mostly great, though having him in such close proximity has been hell on your emotions. You’d honestly expected living together to end your romantic interest, because you’d see all of his bad habits and annoying tendencies—but it hasn’t. If anything, it has only solidified your feelings.

“I should‘ve known you didn’t care about ballet,” you grumble, and Brendon laughs, draining his glass. As he swallows, his eyes leave the film, and he looks at you. You’re aware of the heat in his gaze; your breathing gets even shallower. He’s never seemed interested in you, but the look in his eyes now makes you wonder if you’ve been missing signs from him the way he’s been missing them from you.

You cave. “What?”

Brendon shrugs. “We’ve lived together for fifteen months, and you haven’t had anyone over.”

Your mind catches on the ‘fifteen months’ detail; you can’t help but think that he’s been keeping track. Why not just say ‘a year’ or ‘more than a year’? He clears his throat, and you realize he’s waiting for something. “Oh, sorry. Was that a question?”

“I guess my question is, don’t you miss it?” He gestures at the screen, where Natalie Portman is writhing on her bed. You desperately do, and you desperately want him. You can’t tell him that though; you need to deflect.

“I don’t miss Mila Kunis eating me out, no,” you manage, and Brendon snorts, shaking his head. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because you need to get laid.”

“…Do I?”

You wonder if he can feel the tension and desire radiating from you. He nods, turning to face you more fully, and you think your heart is going to explode. His face is flushed, his hand is inching across the space between you, and his eyes are moving between yours and your lips. You can’t breathe.

“Yeah. You do.”

You can feel your pulse in your ears. Before you can respond, Brendon’s sliding across the couch and kissing you deeply. You gasp when his tongue finds yours, and he pulls back. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

But you cut him off, grabbing him by the back of the head and crushing his mouth back over yours. He groans into your mouth, and you move together as he guides you into his lap so you can straddle him. The kiss is desperate and urgent; you’re tugging at his hair, he’s clutching you closer, and your hands are roaming over each other. He’s hard, and you’re keenly aware of how wet you are. You moan and scratch at his chest, begging for more. Instead of giving you more though, Brendon pulls back and looks at you closely.

“Hang on a sec. Are you drunk?” He asks in a rough voice, hands framing your face and thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he peers into your eyes. You know he knows how much you’ve had. He’s been pouring the tequila all night. You know there’s no point in lying. You nod, and you know the answer to the question you’re about to ask.

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” Brendon admits, breathing hard. “Should we—you can’t consent if you’re—I don’t want to push—”

“Let’s just…not have sex then,” you suggest, still trying to convince yourself that it’s the right choice, the responsible choice, even as the words leave your mouth. You really want to have sex with him.

“Let’s just not have sex,” Brendon agrees, staring at you longingly. “But…if it’s okay with you—can we keep—” and he gestures between the two of you.

“Please,” you moan, kissing him again. You can feel how hard he is, can feel his erection pressing into you. You bear down against him; you think you could probably come even if all you two do for the rest of the night is make out. If he’ll let you grind on him while he kisses you like this, you know you’ll come.

-||-

You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing when you find your hand wandering down and your fingers grazing his cock. He curses under his breath, staring at you hungrily.

“Is this okay? Me touching you?” Your voice trembles, and Brendon nods, leaning back. You can’t take your eyes off of his erection, can’t stop tracing the length of him; meanwhile, Brendon is groaning your name and pressing his hips up to feel more of your hand. Hearing him say your name like that makes you brave enough to ask. “Is this from me, or from Natalie and Mila?” You’ve chosen a teasing tone, but you’re desperate to know.

His own hands have made it down to your hips, and you can feel his fingertips tease the waistband of your leggings. “Fuck, it’s all you. It’s all for you. Can I touch you?” When you nod, he works a hand down into your leggings, murmuring how he can feel how wet you are through your underwear. “Is this okay?” He’s caressing you through your panties, pressing and rubbing lightly in a way that makes you regret suggesting abstinence.

“So okay,” you murmur, curling your hand around him through his sweatpants. “Is this?”

“Yeah,” Brendon says quickly. His face is slightly flushed; his hair is a mess, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You stroke him intently, wishing you could really feel the hot weight of his cock in your hand.

“Even though we’re both drunk?” You don’t want to stop. You just don’t want him doubting anything or stressing.

“I think as long as we don’t actually have like—sex. Hands are fine.” You can see in his eyes that he desperately wants you too, and you love him for showing restraint. You also know that you can’t tell him you love him. Not now, anyway. Not like this. He interrupts your thoughts. “Hands are good. Are fingers good too?”

It takes you a moment to process what he means. When it clicks, when you register his two fingers between your thighs and the way they’ve spread to tease the edge of your underwear, you make yourself a little dizzy and nauseous from how fast you nod.

And then he’s got two fingers inside you, and everything aligns for you in total clarity. It just feels right: Brendon holding you, touching you like this. His fingers are, and you tell him this breathlessly, better than good—they’re absolutely perfect. His thumb rolls against your clit; your head falls backward, and you wonder if you should be embarrassed by how quickly he’s going to make you come.

“Hands aren’t sex, right?” You ask the question to try to temper your lust. You know your personal answer, but you need to make sure you’re on the same page. Brendon shakes his head.

“Hands and fingers are foreplay,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Right. Yes. Good. When does foreplay become sex?”

“Mouths,” Brendon says reluctantly. You whine, even though you expected that. You’ve been thinking about his tongue replacing his fingers, and if his tone is any indication, he has too.

“Mouths,” you agree, shifting to get his fingers deeper. “Can I—” and you tug at his sweatpants. “I want to touch you more. If you’d like that.”

“I really fucking would,” Brendon tells you, lifting his hips a little and leaning against the cushions to make moving his sweatpants and underwear down easier. You’ve shifted back in his lap, his fingers are still in you but at a different angle now, and you can’t stop staring at his cock. You’ve had your hand all over him, but feeling him through his sweatpants and seeing all of him, fully hard and curving back so the tip presses to his stomach, is different. Seeing the way beads of pre-cum roll from the head down his shaft makes you wish mouths didn’t count as sex. But you know Brendon is right. Better to linger here with hands and fingers.

Still, you need to hear it again. “Mouths are definitely sex, right?” You rub your thumb lightly over the tip of his cock, spreading the slick pre-cum and hoping he’s imagining your tongue doing the same thing. You’re definitely imagining his tongue replacing his thumb on your clit.

“Mouths are sex,” Brendon repeats, his eyes closed and head tipped back. “Wish they weren’t. Wish I could—wish you could—god, just your hand though…”

“Would normally just spit in my hand,” you tell him, and he opens his eyes to look at you. “But I should probably use something else to keep me from eventually…” you fumble for the words, but you can see he knows what you mean. If you just used spit to slick up his cock, you’d eventually end up sucking him off. You need to use something that’ll keep you from blowing him. “Lotion,” you decide finally, making him laugh.

“Gonna make me feel like a teenager again,” he murmurs. “Except your hand on my cock, jerking me off while we make out will be much better than anything I experienced as a teenager. Plus,” he adds, “I’ve got my fingers in your wet pussy.”

“Which is hopefully an upgrade from your masturbation sessions,” you tease, squirting some of the hand lotion you keep in a basket on your end table into your palm. You press closer to him again, whimpering happily as his fingers slide in deeper.

“Definitely an upgrade,” he assures you, bringing you in for a long kiss. You wrap your hand around him, already stroking eagerly. “Goddamn,” Brendon murmurs into your mouth. “Darlin, your hand feels so fucking good.”

“Love that,” you moan, working your fist over him. “Love you calling me that.”

“Love calling you that too.” His fingers curl inside you, seeking your G-spot, and you squeal, rocking against his hand. “You like that?”

“So good; you can go harder though,” you pant, squeezing his cock as you stroke downward. “Is this how you like it? Show me how you like your cock played with.”

“You’re so damn hot,” he groans. “Yeah, do it just like that—squeeze when you get to the base, twist on the way up, fuck yes…yes, god, you’re incredible. Don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” you assure him, moving against his fingers. “If you don’t. Shit, I’m close. The way you press right—yeah, like that, yes! And your thumb, fuck that’s—that’s gonna make me—oh god, Brendon, yes!”

“Want you to come all over my hand,” Brendon says, curling his fingers more insistently and picking up his pace. “Want to feel you let go; come hard, darlin.”

“Want to come together,” you counter, kissing up his neck and nipping at his earlobe. “Can we come together?”

“Fuck yeah; if you keep tightening your grip like that and then rubbing the tip with your— shit, is that your pinky pressing on, teasing my balls? Oh fuck, that’s great…”

“Guitar Hero was good for something—stretching my pinky,” you laugh breathlessly. Brendon chokes on his laughter, staring at you in wonder. “What?” You’re a little self-conscious, but you also love his eyes on you.

“You’re incredible,” he says simply. “Just incredible. God, I’m gonna come if you keep—darlin, need you to whisper in my ear that you want me to come.” He’s tense under you, his fingers are working steadily, and you’re right on the edge.

“Bren, I want you to come for me.” Your lips are right under his ear. “Need you to come for me so I can come on your fingers. God, I’m holding back, holding on; want you to—”

Brendon cuts you off with a desperate groan, kissing you fiercely and rocking his hips up into your grasp. “Coming,” he manages, flexing his fingers in you. “Come for me, darlin.”

You let the tension leave your body, and your orgasm rocks through you. You can feel him spilling over your hand, and you know from how he’s gasping your name that it feels good for him. Meanwhile, you’re trembling on his fingers, clutching his head to keep his mouth against yours. It’s hot waves of pleasure coursing over your whole body, and you can barely breathe from how good it feels to come like this with two of his fingers still curling and thrusting while his thumb keeps moving on your clit.

“Fuck,” Brendon groans, and you nod, going limp against him. He holds you close and slips his hand from your leggings.

“Fuck,” you agree, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You’re both trying to catch your breath when you ask, “was that a mistake?” You freeze. You didn’t mean to ask that.

Brendon tenses under you. “Do you think it was a mistake?” His voice is hesitant; you can’t read his tone otherwise.

“I don’t know.”

You do know. You know exactly how you feel. You don’t think it was a mistake; you love him, and you’re so content curled into him now. But if Brendon isn’t sure, if Brendon’s regretting it, then you’re not about to volunteer any of that.

“Okay…should we talk—”

You know where this is going. You have no interest in hearing him tell you how much you mean to him as a friend and how he doesn’t want to lose you or ruin your living situation.

You cut him off. “We don’t have to talk about it.” You can hear the shift in your own voice now. You’re getting guarded. You’ve never liked being vulnerable, and this feels pretty vulnerable.

“But maybe we should—”

“I’m gonna head to bed. We don’t have to talk about it,” you manage, crawling out of his lap. Your main goal is to get to your room before you burst into tears.

-//- the present -\\-

You open your eyes, groaning. You couldn’t stifle the memories, and you can’t stifle the feelings. Worse, you’re remembering how good his fingers felt. “No,” you say out loud. “No. No.”

His shower across the apartment turns on, and you freeze. “You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

“Fuck.” You roll onto your back again and close your eyes, wondering if he’s touching himself while thinking of you. You remember how he moaned your name and bucked into your fist as his tongue teased yours and his fingers worked inside you. You can still feel his fingers curling when he made you come, and you can remember how his cock throbbed in your grasp. Fuck.

You can picture him in the shower, stroking his cock and panting your name. Your fingers move faster, and you’re arching your back, gasping and moaning; you’re almost there when — “You know where to find me if you decide you need me, darlin.”

“Son of a bitch.” There’s a shift internally; you feel like you’ve come to some conclusion. His voice in your head is breaking your concentration, so clearly you need to just go to the source.

You throw yourself out of bed and slip into a t-shirt and shorts, well aware of the slickness on your inner thighs. You’re not sure what your plan is as you pad across your apartment and toward his bathroom door quietly; still, you’re sure this is what you need. The water is running, but you can hear him through the door.

“Fuck,” he grunts, followed by a low groan of your name. You’re desperate for more, and you know it’s a bad idea to twist the doorknob and slip silently into his bathroom. You do it anyway. The room is foggy, and you lean against the wall opposite the shower.

You’re telling yourself you aren’t going to do anything—you’re just going to listen for a bit, then sneak back to your room and get yourself off—when you hear his fist start to slide over himself. Is he using shampoo, conditioner, or lube? The question pops into your head and you blush, biting on your knuckles. And what is he imagining? That night, your hand on him, stroking him urgently while he rubbed your clit? Or—is he thinking about your mouth? You feel a rush of want, and it makes you dizzy. You’re grateful for your knuckles in your mouth because they muffle your whimper.

“Y/n?”

Or you thought they did. You freeze.

“Y/n,” he sighs, his hand audibly picking up speed. You relax. He was just imagining things. “Darlin, your mouth,” he groans, and that’s one question answered. Your stomach tightens. “Honey, you’re gonna make me come if you keep sucking my cock like this; that’s it, fuck, please—oh shit yeah, suck just like—I’m gonna—god, I’m gonna eat your pussy so good, just you fucking wait.”

You can feel yourself getting wetter, and you try to slip your hand inside your shorts without making too much noise. A voice in your head tells you not to be greedy, to just keep this moment in your mind while you go back to your room, but you can’t walk away. You want to get yourself off by listening to him touch himself to the idea of a blowjob from you or going down on you.

“Y/n, oh God, you’re fingering yourself while you blow me? So hot. That’s it, darlin; ride your fingers, think about taking my cock. Fuck, you look so damn sexy, three fingers deep in your cunt. Think about my cock filling you; I’ll give it to you.” You’re in a lust-driven fog; you feel like you’re obeying him as you slide a third finger in. You feel incredibly full, and you can’t stop remembering how your fingers had to stretch to fully wrap around his cock. He’s right; three fingers are more realistic for imagining him inside you. You whimper again, and it’s silent for a moment.

“Fingering yourself, Y/n?”

At first you’re confused why he’s repeating himself, but then you realize that his tone is different this time; it’s less sex-fueled and more knowing, more amused. Fuck.

He pulls the shower curtain back with a snap; you don’t have time to pull your hand from your shorts, and he’s looking at you, hair soaking wet and plastered to his forehead, his erect cock in his hand.

“I—” you squeak, face aflame. “I’m—I was—” you realize your hand is still between your legs, and you yank it out quickly. It makes both of you moan—you at the loss, and Brendon at seeing how your fingers shine with your arousal.

“You here because you need some help, darlin?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, staring at his naked body and the way his fist is wrapped around his erection. The water is dripping down his body, his cock is throbbing, and he looks like he’s moments from coming. You want to watch, you want to make him come, you want him to keep groaning your name. You want him.

Brendon extends a hand, smiling at you softly. There’s no way you can spin this. You’re inside his bathroom, listening to him jerk off, and you’ve got your hand in your shorts. It’s obvious what’s happening. You’re in too deep; you might as well give in.

“Oh, hell,” you mutter, stripping your shirt off and shoving your shorts down before accepting his hand.

The water is hot, and you gasp as he presses himself to your back; you whimper when his mouth finds the back of your neck, and his hand reaches down to tease your entrance. “Brendon,” you moan when he slips two fingers into you; he groans that you’re so fucking tight, and he’s right, you are. He feels so good, and you desperately want more. His dick is pressed against your ass now, and you’re grinding back against him. “Give me three, let me really imagine your cock filling my pussy,” you beg.

“You heard that, huh?” He grins and bites gently at your neck. “Yeah, baby, I’ll give you three.” He pulls his fingers out instead; when you protest, he nips at your earlobe. “Patience. Need to do this right; don’t want to hurt you.” He stretches for a bottle of silicone lubricant on the built-in shower shelf, and you squirm against him happily. His cock throbs against you while he pours the lubricant over his fingers; you spread your legs and lean back against his chest. “There we are,” Brendon murmurs, sliding three slick fingers against you. “Now I can take care of my girl.” Your heart lurches happily at his words, but before you can comment, his fingers are back inside you.

“Darlin,” he murmurs, his breath hot in your ear. “You gonna make me promise not to talk about this later?” You let out a wordless whimper, and he bites down before sucking hard. “Because honestly, that’s just not going to work for me.” You gasp, and he grins, lips pressed to your skin. “If I’m doing this, if we’re doing this, it’s because you want me. Not just because you want to get off.”

“God, Brendon,” you sigh, arching your back and rubbing against his cock. “Yes.”

“Yes, you want me?” His voice is soft. “Or,” and his fingers stop moving in you, making you whine. “Yes, you’re gonna make me promise not to bring it up?”

“You,” you manage, grabbing his wrist and trying to get him to move again. “You.”

“More specific, honey.” He bites down again in a new spot as his fingers flex; you go limp against him with a soft cry, and he wraps his free arm around your waist. “Yes or no, do you want me? Beyond sex—do you want to be with me? Because that’s how I want you. Been driving me fucking crazy since that night; I can’t stop thinking about you. Have wanted you for so long.”

“Yes,” you whisper, rolling your head back on his shoulder.

“Yes or no, you’re going to let us talk about this later.”

“Yes,” you repeat, turning in his arms and clinging to him. His mouth crushes over yours; you kiss him urgently, desperately. “Yes, yes, yes,” you murmur between kisses, your hips rocking as you press his cock between you. “Yes.”

“Good,” Brendon says simply, sinking to his knees. You become aware of his thick bath mat, and you file that away for future reference before your mind goes blank. His arm around your waist tugs you closer; he nudges your legs apart with his shoulder. “Spread these perfect legs for me.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, both hands on his shoulders. “Brendon.”

“Yes, darlin?” He looks up at you from between your legs, and you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He looks so serious; there’s not a hint of playfulness in his expression now. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you repeat, and he smiles faintly, biting his lip. You can read his mind. “I do know other words besides ‘fuck,’ ‘Brendon,’ and ‘yes,’” you manage, and he licks between your legs. “Fuck!”

“I’m sure you do,” he murmurs, “but I’m not sure that you’ll need them in the near future.” And with that, his face is pressed between your legs, licking and sucking eagerly as his fingers work their way up the back of your thigh. He laps at your clit tenderly and, when you’re moaning, he slips three fingers deep inside you from behind.

“Fuck!” You cling to him. You honestly think you could come right now if he told you to. Instead, he moans against you. It vibrates up through your body; you bend over, clutching his head. “Brendon,” you choke. “Please.”

“There’s a new word,” he mumbles, fingers speeding up while his tongue moves in gentle circles. “A good word. Please, what?”

“More,” you pant, hips rocking against his face. “More, baby, please.”

“Darlin,” he moans, grabbing one of your legs and guiding it over a shoulder. He’s breathing hard and licking over you longingly. “Love when you ask so sweetly.” His can fingers go deep now that you’re spread wide with a leg draped over one of his shoulders; you gasp, hips spasming. “More?”

“More,” you moan, nodding frantically and leaning back against the shower wall for leverage. “I can take more; give me more—really eat it, eat my pussy, B; oh fuck!” Brendon groans again, and his tongue goes deep between his fingers, rubbing alongside them as his lips close over you. He’s sliding them over you so gently while his tongue strokes you, and you think you may lose your mind from how good he is at eating you out.

“Oh god,” you whimper, tugging at his hair. “Oh fuck, Brendon!”

He nods against you, and his tongue presses and rubs; you cry out with your orgasm, legs shaking and trembling. His tongue and fingers keep going, keep pushing you over the edge, and his arm around your waist tightens when your legs give out; you slide off of him and drop to your knees. You’re both breathing hard, kneeling on the floor of his shower, with steam and hot water flooding your senses. He’s smiling at you so brilliantly, and you moan, pulling his mouth to yours. Both arms tangle around your waist and he pulls you flush against him, one of his legs slotting between yours. You whimper into his kiss and grind tentatively on his thigh, both of you gasping at the feeling.

“Hang on, darlin,” Brendon groans. “I can make it better.” He stretches an arm to reach behind him, and when he brings his hand back, you see the bottle of silicone lube again. Without taking his eyes off you, he pops the lid and pours it freely onto his thigh; you start moving again, and the ease with which you can ride his thigh now makes you louder than ever. “Ride it, grind this sweet pussy all over me, make yourself feel good.”

“Want you to feel good too,” you murmur, rocking your hips fervently. “Want you to feel good.”

“Trust me,” he grunts, grabbing your hair and pulling you in for a long, heated kiss. “Trust me, I feel good. You feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You nuzzle a spot under his ear, and he groans, grabbing your ass with both hands and moving you faster, pressing you down harder. “You like this?”

“Only thing better than feeling your sweet cunt against my thigh would be feeling you on my cock,” Brendon whispers in your ear, tongue flicking out to tease the shell, making you shiver. “But it’s okay if you’re not—if it’s too—”

“Brendon,” you whimper, squeezing his erection firmly. “Yes. I want to.” You reach down between your legs to collect some of the silicone lube, and, watching him longingly, you start stroking a slick hand over his cock.

“Fuck, darlin,” he moans, kissing you gently, his tongue brushing yours. You clutch the back of his head, your other hand still stroking fervently while your hips roll. “Gonna let me get you on my cock and make you feel so damn good?”

“Please,” you manage, kissing down his neck. “Please.” He jerks back suddenly and you moan at the loss, but he’s climbing carefully to his feet and tugging you up too. “Brendon,” you gasp, and his lips are on yours as he pushes you up against the shower wall, nipping and sucking down your neck and collarbone. “Brendon, please.”

“Yeah, darlin, say my name.” He’s rocking against your thigh, cock slick with pre-cum and whatever he was using to jack off earlier, and you cry out. “I remember you liking how rough I fingered you,” he whispers in your ear. “You like getting fucked that way too?”

“Yes,” you whimper, spreading your legs on the mat, grateful for its traction keeping you upright. “Yes.”

“Shit, Y/n,” he groans, one hand gripping his cock as he guides it to your opening. “I’ve been thinking about this, about you, since—”

“Me too,” you admit, spreading your legs slightly to sink down on him. “Oh god!”

“Y/n,” Brendon grunts as he sheathes himself in you fully. “Your cunt—god, you’re incredible.” He grabs both of your hands with his and pins them over your head, thrusting into you quick and shallow. “Honey, if you’ve been thinking about it too—I gotta know, why did you go to bed that night without letting us talk about it?”

“Thought you thought it was a mistake,” you groan, crying out happily when he tugs at your hair.

“You’re the one who asked if it was,” Brendon points out, and you whine, nodding. “I never said I thought it was. Just asked you—and then you went to bed and made me promise the next day to never bring it up.”

“Got scared,” you admit. “Was self-conscious and scared, and—harder,” you pant, pushing your hips into his to meet his thrusts. “Harder, fuck me harder.” He groans and speeds up while going deeper, making you cry out with every stroke.

“Yes!” You squeal when he angles himself slightly and presses right where you want him with the head of his cock. “Fuck, yes, Brendon, yes, yes!”

“Up,” he commands, one hand leaving yours to grab your thigh. “You’re not going anywhere; I won’t let you fall.” You nod and carefully wrap a leg around his hips. “Other one too.” You lift the other, and he bites a spot low on your neck. “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you. I want you. Want this,” he groans, hips rocking again. “Want us. Want you to be mine, want to be yours.”

“Brendon,” you gasp, tightening your legs around him. “Please. Please.”

“What do you need, darlin?”

“Make me come,” you beg, hands tangled with his as he holds them over your head. “Make me come. I’m yours, all yours. Make me come.”

“Mine. Darlin, if you don’t come on my cock, I’m going to spank you.”

“Oh shit,” you whimper. “Bren, I—I love—getting—”

He grins. “You love getting spanked?” You nod, and he thrusts into you harder. “I knew it. I knew I had a wild girl on my hands.”

“On your cock,” you correct with a breathless laugh, and Brendon laughs too before grabbing the showerhead and aiming it against your clit. “Oh god, yes—fuck—Brendon, hold it right there—god, yes! Just thinking about you spanking me—and it’s right on my clit, baby, yes oh god—Brendon, please, please—oh!” You fall apart, crying his name, and he kisses you hard, hips snapping forward as he fucks you through your climax.

“Honey, I’m fucking close,” he groans. “If you want me to pull out, I will, but you gotta tell me—Y/n, I’m gonna—tell me now!”

“Oh god, in me,” you pant, your legs tightening around his waist. “In me, I want you to come in me, fucking give me everything.”

“Fuck,” Brendon grunts, burying his face in your neck. You can feel him pulsing in you, can feel the warmth spreading, and you close your eyes. You desperately want to remember this moment forever. When his breathing evens out against your skin, you carefully untangle your legs from his body.

“Fuck, B, that was so damn good.”

“Yes,” Brendon groans, kissing you. “Yes, it was.” He reaches to the side and turns off the water before opening the curtain and snatching a towel to wrap around you. “Here, darlin.” He kisses your forehead, and you melt, hugging him tightly. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs, holding you to him. “Y/n—can I take you to bed? Want you in my bed.”

“Yes,” you whisper, and he twists your hair into a rope around his hand, wringing it out gently. “Please.”

-||-

“You’re unreal,” he moans, sucking on one of your nipples as you writhe under him. “You’re incredible, darlin.”

“You’re not half-bad yourself,” you say with a short laugh. “B, I’m so sorry I got scared and didn’t let us talk about that night. About us.” You reach over to stroke his cock. “Hard again,” you marvel and he grins, switching breasts.

“Easy when my bed partner looks like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “Darlin, no need to apologize. We’re here now; we’ve talked. God, I’m just glad we finally got our shit together.”

You whimper in agreement, and he sucks harder, one hand moving down between your legs. “Love those sounds you make for me.” He sighs when his fingers trace through your heat. “Wet again,” he says in a tone that matches yours. You smile and tug at his hair.

“Easy when my bed partner looks like this,” you tease, gasping when his fingers slide into you. “Oh, Brendon, baby, yes.”

“Or it could just be that my girl let me come in her, and that’s why her hot cunt is so slick,” Brendon murmurs, grinning when you moan. “Have I mentioned how much I love when you say yes?” He’s shifting to hover over you. “Can I have you?”

“Yes,” you sigh happily as he pulls his fingers out and thrusts into you gently. “Yes.”

“I’m gonna be slow and gentle with you this time,” Brendon tells you, kissing your cheek. “Loved having you in the shower like that, but I want you every way. You deserve to be loved slowly and deeply, and I’m gonna be the one to do it.”

“Yes,” you repeat. “Brendon, yes.”

“God, darlin, don’t know which I love more, my name on your lips or you telling me yes.”

“I could, oh fuck, say another name,” you tease, and his eyes narrow playfully. “I think we have your answer then.”

“Damn right. I’m yours, and I’m committed; I want you to be committed too. I want you to be mine. I want to be the only one making you feel like this. I want to be the only one getting to see you come undone, getting to feel you take my cum. I want to be the only one fucking you, making love to you, getting you coming like this. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agree breathlessly. “Yes. Have wanted you, have needed you for so long. I only need you, and I only want you. You’re mine, Bren, and I’m only yours.”

“Good,” Brendon murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. “We’ll talk more later, but Y/n, I’m entirely yours. You know that means I love you, right?” You smile radiantly and nod. “And you love me, don’t you?” Brendon’s voice is soft, hopeful.

“Yes.”

#brendon urie #brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon x reader #he could fuck me any way he wanted #my work #fanfic #imagine #panic! at the disco

[dirty-urie]

Experience

Chapter 10

2.7k words

Warnings: oral sex, very slight exhibtionism, sex

Author's Note: This is the last chapter for now! I definitely might write more, but unfinished things make me itchy, so I'm at a stopping point. Thank you for reading if you got this far!

You move quietly off the bed, but Brendon still wakes up with a gasp. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you soothe. “I just have a hard time sleeping away from home. But you can go back to sleep. I’m just going to work in the other room.”

Brendon rubs at his eyes with his fist. “Can you please stay? I don’t like to sleep without you.”

You melt, crawling back into bed. “Of course, baby, I had no idea.”

Brendon holds you close to him. “I didn’t ever want you to feel pressure to stay the night. But fuck it, I love you and I want you in my arms, even if you’ll keep me up working, and I’m feeling a little clingy post-sex if you couldn’t tell,” he laughs.

“You can always tell me what you need, B,” you murmur against his chest. “Especially if it’s sleeping in your arms because I love it too. You make me feel so calm and safe.”

Brendon strokes your hair. “Is there anything I can do to help you sleep? Maybe there’s something I could do to make you more at home?”

You pause to think. “Can you lay on top of me? I miss Turnip on my chest. He protects me.”

Brendon rolls on top of you, nuzzling your neck. “You’re safe, darling. I’ve got you. Let yourself rest.”

You match your breathing to his, feeling yourself get sleepy.

“You don’t have trouble sleeping at my house, do you?” Brendon asks curiously.

You shake your head. “No, your house feels like home too. You always make me feel welcome and comfy. Plus you keep the kitchen stocked with all my snacks.”

Brendon makes a contented noise. “Good.”

You’re finally bordering on the brink of unconsciousness when Brendon speaks again. “Darling, let me know if this is totally crazy, but how would you feel about moving in with me?” 

“The sex was that good, huh?” You giggle. 

“No!” Brendon scoffs indignantly. “Well, yes. But to be fair, I’ve wanted you to live with me since before we had sex,” he backtracks. “Look, I easily see myself spending the rest of my life with you, and I want to start as soon as possible. You’ll have your own bedroom because I know you need your own space sometimes, but you’d always be welcome together in our bed. Ideally most nights, but whatever works best for you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of commitment?”

“Of course. We’re already together most nights. The only issue is the pets, but it’s a big house. Turnip can claim his own territory, and the dogs go wherever I do, so I’ll just steer clear of his space.”

You bring your hand to the back of his hand to pull him in for a kiss. “Yes. I’d love to live with you.”

Brendon grins against your lips. “Do you mean it?”

“It would be a fucked up prank if I didn’t,” you point out. “But yes, I mean it. Of course, I mean it.” Brendon nibbles your lip happily. “But can we put off celebratory sex until tomorrow? I’m getting sleepy.”

Brendon pets your hair. “That’s probably for the best,” he yawns. “I’m pretty sleepy too.”

•••

You snuggle against Brendon happily as you wake up, feeling the sunlight coming in from the window. 

“Hey, roomie,” Brendon greets you, ruffling your hair.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m nipping this one in the bud. I am still darling. Or baby, but only when you’re spoiling me with good sex. Or good food,” you giggle. 

He kisses your temple. “That’s a reasonable request, baby.” He winks.

You climb on top of him, straddling him. “Oh? Baby?”

Brendon grins as you grind against him. “I owe you celebration sex, don’t I?”

You reach down to grasp his cock. “Yes, but,” you squeeze him as he starts to stiffen in your hand, “first, you owe me breakfast.” You release his dick, climbing off him.

Brendon chuckles. “Okay, darling, I’ll feed you. You’re right. I’m your lover, not your fucker, I should take care of you.”

“Yes, but you will fuck me still, right?” 

Brendon kisses your cheek before leaving the bed, still naked.

“Right?!”

Brendon smirks as he dials the number for room service. You lick your lips, watching him trail a finger down his body to his burgeoning erection. He brightens as the front desk answers. “Good morning, this is Zack Boyd in room nine-o-nine. I was wondering if I could order room service,” Brendon says. He nods as the person on the other end responds.

You slide off the bed onto your knees in front of him. He’s too busy listening to the phone that he doesn’t notice. 

“Yes, I’ll hold while you transfer me,” Brendon agrees. He glances down at you. “What are you up to, love- Oh, yes! I’m here. This is room service? Excellent. Okay, we’ll have a-” he chokes as you slip him into your hand, cautiously stroking at his slit. Brendon manages to shift his gasp into a cough and regain his composure. “Yes, I’m fine. Just had something caught in my throat,” he apologizes. You grin, holding him tighter. “Can we please get two breakfast platters, a black coffee, and a pineapple jui-” He barely has a chance to cover the receiver before he moans, his head tipping back. “Shit, babygirl, your hand,” he whispers. He swallows. “Uh, a carafe of juice is fine. Thank you.” He pets your hair. “Have a good one.”

He slams the phone down, chanting a string of curses. “What are you doing, honey?” he asks after a few deep breaths. 

“Jerking you off,” you answer simply, letting his cock fall from your hand. 

Brendon laughs, offering you his hand to help you up. You pout, standing up. “You don’t like it? I thought you were an exhibitionist.”

He kisses your temple. “No, it was fucking hot, babygirl. But I don’t wanna come yet. Wanna stay hard for you until I can get deep in that perfect cunt. Until then, I want to eat that perfect pussy like my life depends on it. 

You lie on the bed, spreading your legs. “Please?”

He grins, grabbing each of your thighs. “Are you sure?” His hot breath hits your cunt, and you whine.

“Yes, I’m sure. Eat me out,” you plead. 

Brendon plunges his whole face into you without hesitation. He rubs his mouth against your clit, thrusting into you hard with two fingers. You clench your thighs around his head, already trying to hold off your orgasm. 

Brendon moans, loving the feeling of you writhing on his face. “Fuck, love, are you already about to come all over my face?” He asks in awe. 

“Yes, B,” you admit breathlessly. 

“Come,” he says and you instantly unravel, coming hard and drenching his entire face in slickness.

You blush. “Did I just?” You’ve never squirted before, to your knowledge, but you definitely saw a gush of fluid between your legs as you came.

Brendon just dives back in, flicking his tongue quickly on your clit while he strokes your g-spot slowly. You cry out, grabbing his hair and pulling it. 

“Shit, y/n, come again, baby. Before our food gets here.” 

Your whole body clenches as you come for him, shivers of pleasure spreading warmly from your throbbing pussy. 

Someone knocks on the door, and Brendon kisses your stomach before standing up on shaky legs, still rock hard. You have half a mind to cover yourself with the comforter. 

He yanks on pants and goes to the door. You both look utterly fucked, but neither of you mind as Brendon rolls the cart of food into the room and closes the door. 

As appealing as Brendon looks with his cock obviously tenting his low-slung pants, your survival instincts win out and you rush eagerly to the food. You shovel syrup-drenched pancakes into your mouth without bothering to sit down. Brendon inhales an entire plate of eggs before he takes his food to eat at the table like a proper human. 

You take a swig of juice directly from the carafe and then join Brendon at the table. “Thank you for breakfast,” you mumble through hash browns.

Brendon wiggles his eyebrows, sticking his tongue out. “I think I thould be thanking you for breakfasth,” he lisps with his tongue still out.

You roll your eyes. “My pussy is not a real breakfast, babe.”

He pouts. “Let’s agree to disagree.” 

You ignore him. “So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

“I think we should finish breakfast, have sex, hit the beach, order cheeseburgers by the pool for lunch, go snorkeling, and then go out to dinner.”

You sputter. “We only have sex once in that plan!”

Brendon laughs. “Darling, we can have sex at home.” 

“We can go to the beach at home too,” you grumble. 

“But we can’t go to the beach in Mexico at home,” he retorts. 

“Nor can we have sex in Mexico at home!”

Brendon laughs but finally makes a noise in agreement. “Okay, new plan: sex, sex again, cheeseburgers by the pool, snorkeling, shower, dinner, sex again,” he proposes.

“I like that one better,” you nod, standing up to wrap your hands around his neck.

He kisses you as his hands slide down to your thighs. He hitches his fingers under both of them and you jump, wrapping your legs around his back. “I do too.”

Brendon drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you, his erection resting warm and heavy on your stomach. 

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

Brendon’s eyes widen, and he rolls onto his back, stroking his cock. “Fuck. Yes. Please, baby.”

You grab a condom from the nightstand and hand it to him. He rolls it on while you touch yourself, making sure you’re wet enough for him. You straddle his thighs, smiling down on him happily. “I’m so glad I get to be your lover, B,” you sigh. 

Brendon smiles back. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. You’re kind and funny and smart and compassionate. And so fucking hot,” you say, grabbing his erection. “You worked hard and you won me over.” 

He throbs in your hand as he groans, hands grasping the bedsheets. 

“How do you want to do this?” You ask. “Should I face you or away from you?” 

“Up to you. Facing me is more intimate though. Plus I’ll get to watch your tits bounce.”

“Facing you it is then. I’ll reserve facing away for your faceless groupies,” you joke, standing up on your knees to line him up with you. 

Brendon gasps in offense. “I’ve never had groupies. I’ve simply had women who slept with me, who happened to be fans of the band.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “That’s the textbook definition of a groupie, baby.”

He laughs. “Point taken. Either way, you’re way more than a groupie to me, and I want you to be comfortable and pleasured.”

You both hiss as you sink onto his cock. “Trust me, love, I’m extremely comfortable and pleasured.” He fills you completely as you stop at his base, adjusting to his thickness. “Oh, you feel so good inside me, Brendon.”

“I love hearing my name from your lips,” Brendon moans. “Fuck, love, do you want to try to move?”

You tentatively slide up his dick. “Oh shit.” You speed up, bouncing on his dick quickly.

 Brendon tips his head back, groaning. “Holy fuck, baby. Is this good for you?”

“So fucking good,” you moan, raking your nails down his sensitive stomach while his muscles twitch under you. 

You shift your hips forward, trying different depths and angles of him inside you. You find a particularly pleasant position and bounce faster, reveling in how nicely he fills you. 

Brendon’s eyes widen, both at the intense sensation, and the sight of you driving yourself wild on his cock. “God, baby,” he marvels, voice rough. “You look fucking incredible right now. And your tight cunt is squeezing me perfectly.”

You punctuate each thrust with a breathy moan, the moans getting closer together as you start to approach your peak. You reach between your legs to play with your clit, imagining Brendon’s skilled fingers instead of your fumbling ones.

“You’re so hot when you touch yourself,” he groans as your pussy throbs around him. His hips buck up involuntary, and you place your hand flat on his stomach, pinning him down.

“Behave yourself, B,” you chide.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he gasps. “I need to come.”

You look him dead in the eyes. “Wanna ride your cock until you’re begging me to come because you just can’t take it anymore.”

Panic crosses Brendon’s face. “Darling, I can’t help it. You’re turning me on like crazy.”

You slow your movements to a stop, his erection still buried deep inside you. “I’ll give you a second to compose yourself then,” you say, continuing to squeeze your muscles around him rhythmically. 

Brendon squeezes his eyes shut, his cock twitching hard inside you. He’s right on the verge of spilling into the condom, but he manages not to. “Love, don’t tease,” he begs.

You lean forward, sliding up his cock as you get closer to him. He cranes his neck eagerly to get his lips on you, and you slide your tongue in his mouth, practically fucking him with your tongue. As much as you love kissing him, the position is uncomfortable, and you tilt back away from him, breaking the kiss. 

“Can I move again, babe? Can you control yourself?” You grind your clit against his pelvis and he groans.

Brendon bites his lip, trying to compose himself. “Go ahead, sweet girl. I can hold back until you come for me.”

You resume your movements at a practically bruising speed, tipping your head back in bliss. “Fuck, it’s not going to be long at this rate,” you cry.

Brendon’s hips are tense, trying not to buck up into you, and you can’t help but marvel at his clenched muscles, shiny with sweat. 

“God, I’m going to come for you, B,” you pant. “Can you come for me? Come inside me.”

Brendon nods quickly. “Come, baby, I’m right there. So hard to hold back.” His cock pulses inside you.

Your pussy tightens and you shriek, pleasure coursing through your core. You feel Brendon’s orgasm just a second later, hot come spilling into the condom. 

“Oh my god,” you swear.

“That’s my best girl, y/n,” Brendon gasps, a hazy, blissed-out smile across his face. 

You roll off him to snuggle next to him, both of you whining when he slips out of you. 

“I like riding you,” you pant. “I like trying new things with you.”

Brendon smiles. “I love trying new things with you. You make me feel like it’s my first time. I’m seeing everything with fresh eyes. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Well, it certainly doesn't feel like your first time. You know what you’re doing, pretty boy.” You wink. 

He rolls on top of you, kissing you slowly, his lips warm and soft. “I do, do I?”

You part your lips, letting him lick your bottom lip slowly. “You do,” you whine, and his cock twitches between you. 

“I promised you a round two, didn't I?” he asks, voice deep and rough. “Another chance to show off my skills? Let us both gain even more experience?”

You spread your legs, letting him push into you easily. You gasp happily, reaching for his hand. He lets you take it, squeezing your hand affectionately. “My Brendon,” you coo. 

“I’m all yours, darlin’,” he sighs, thrusting into you hard. 

You bury your face in his neck, groaning. “Mine.”

“And you can gain more experience with me any time.”

#brendon urie fanfic #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie x reader #my work #experience

[yourchemicallyimbalancedromance]

Introduction!! 💜🌙

(Because I keep forgetting to post it lol)

First and foremost, the owner of this blog stands with PALESTINE. #FREEPALESTINE🇵🇸

Hi! I’m Fable, but you can call me fae if we’re close :] I’m fifteen and I’ve been a fander since 2017-2018, so about…6-7 years? I’m glad to be here :))

Artists I love:

-Lana Del Rey

-Ethel Cain

-Taylor Swift

-The Weeknd

-NF

-MCR (My Chemical Romance)

-I Prevail

-Fall Out Boy

-P!ATD (Panic! At The Disco) (read: I do not support Brendon Urie)

-Paramore

{You’ll probably see me reblogging Taylor and Ethel Cain related posts most often :D}

Fandoms/Fanbases I am in:

-Sanders Sides

-Swifties

-Daughters Of Cain

-MRIH (My Roommate Is Hades)

Things I’m fine with being tagged in:

-Sanders sides x Reader (angst or fluff either is fine :D)

-Prinxiety/Analogical fanfic and/or one shots, etc.

-art

-Remy and/or Emile fanfic/art/oneshots/etc.!! I love finding these kinds of posts considering they aren’t core sides

-basically anything sanders sides related EXCEPT for ANYTHING NSFW and/or RemRom

DNI

-Transphobes

-homophobes

-TERFs

-people that ship/interact with RemRom content (ew)

-misogynists

-basically if you’re just a bad person who supports horrible things/causes, DNI.

Please interact list:

-Fanders

-Inclusionary Feminists

-people who love music

-VIRGIL KINNIES JDKDOXOWOFJWOJFKS

-orange side theorists!!

I’ll usually post/reblog:

-sanders sides theories/opinions

-funny incorrect quotes

-art (sometimes sanders sides related sometimes not)

-fanfic

-quotes (again, sometimes sanders sides related, sometimes not.)

Boundaries:

-totally fine with DMs as long as you’re fine with my response being few and far between, I’m not good with small talk or starting conversations and I need tone tags sooo

-totally fine with spam liking/reblogging! I love seeing that people like what I post :DD

-please please do not criticize my writing! I haven’t written in a very long time and I’m just now starting back up again, please bare with me!

Writing masterlist<3

#intro post #introduction #sanders sides #introductory post #pinned intro #introducing myself #blog intro

[lovelylusts]

Sex || Brendon Urie

Pairing: Brendon Urie x Reader, mentions of Ryan Ross x Reader

Genre: smut, angst

Warnings: cheating, car sex, fingering (f receiving), daddy kink, blowjob, handjob, spanking, protected vaginal sex, based off of “Sex” by The 1975, I wrote this YEARS ago ok bear with me

Word count: 2.7k

The real reason Ryan left Panic! At the Disco.

She began undoing the laces of her old vans, letting her dexterous fingers play with them. She always wore those vans. Every time I saw her wearing them, I would think back to the first time we fucked.

I would remember the morning after, when she walked out of my bedroom only wearing some underwear and one of my t-shirts. The shirt was so big, one of the sleeves slid down her right shoulder to reveal her collarbone and tempting skin -- exposed skin that made me want to undress her all over again. I would remember when I told her to keep the shirt since it looked so good on her and it would give her a reminder of chaste kisses inclined to senseless fucking. She left that day wearing my shirt, some skinny jeans, and those vans. But that was when we were friends with benefits -- before she got a boyfriend. She was dating none other than my best friend and bandmate: Ryan Ross.

As she took her tank top off with a modest sway of her hips, she teased, “C’mon, Bren. I don’t have all day!” I began undressing as well. She only had panties on, while I was only in my boxers, as we made out in the backseat of my car.

“Tell me, what do you wanna me to do to you?” I asked with a devilish grin, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

“I-I want you to fuck me with your fingers. Please,” she begged. She basically slathered the words with a wanting lust. Without saying a word, I pulled her underwear down; she whimpered. I ran my fingers through her wetness and smirked.

“Damn babygirl, you’re so fucking wet,” I said with a cocky tone. She wasn’t able to say anything; all she did was let a high-pitched, practically pornographic, moan.

I started by slowly rubbing circles on her clit; her soft hands latched onto my bicep and she let out a shaky moan. My fingers started moving a bit faster and she sharply sucked in a breath. I soon pushed my middle finger and ring finger into her pussy and Y/N practically screamed when I did so. I began to slowly thrust my fingers in and out of her. She breathed heavily, trying not to moan, but she couldn’t help but scream out my name when I pushed a third finger into her.

“B-Brendon, please! I’m close!” she cried out. I kept moving my fingers and after only a few more thrusts, I felt her clench around me. “Brendon!” She came around my fingers. I let her body rest for a few seconds and she took a few deep breaths before sitting up.

“Sit back, it’s your turn” she commanded. We switched places to where I was sitting on one of the seats in the back and she was on her knees in front of me. I lifted my hips so she could pull my boxers down. She took my cock in her hand and kissed the tip.

“Damn, Brendon. Sometimes I forget you’re so big,” she teased.

She slowly ran her hand up and down my hard-on while looking into my eyes. She licked the tip a few times before taking only the head in her mouth and sucking on it. I let out a soft moan and reflexively reached out to grab at the top of her head and lace my fingers through her hair. She began to bob her head up and down, taking in as much of me as she could - which was almost all of me, due to the fact she had almost no gag reflex.

“Shit, Y/N, you better stop before I come,” I said.

She slowly pulled off of me with a ‘pop’ and opened the console compartment in the front seat. She reached in and grabbed a foil packet, then tore it open, pulled the condom out, and rolled it down my cock. She placed herself above it and slowly lowered herself onto it. We both let out small moans when she did so. Y/N lifted herself up and then slammed herself back down onto me. She continued this pattern, increasing her speed every-so-often.

I grabbed onto her ass and gave it a rough squeeze, then gave her ass an experimental slap to see how she would react. She moaned and brought her chest closer to mine and engulfed me into a kiss.

“Do it again,” she begged against my lips. Without hesitation, I brought my hand back down onto her ass. She let out a cry of pleasure. “Oh, god! Brendon, I’m gonna come again!” After riding me for a few more minutes, she began moaning uncontrollably. With one last moan, she came around me. I thrusted up into her a few more times before coming into the condom. We sat there wrapped up in each other for a few seconds before she got off of me. We began to clean up after ourselves.

“God, I missed that,” She gave a shuddery sigh, and stretched. She grabbed the tank top that she had discarded earlier and slipped it.

Then why don’t you break up with Ryan and date me? I thought to myself.

“Yeah, me too,” I mumbled.

She reached over to her purse and pulled out her phone to check the time. “Oh, shit! Dude, we gotta hurry. I promised Ryan I’d be at his place by the evening!” She threw her phone in her purse and started collecting the articles of clothing that had been thrown around the backseat.

As I put my clothes back on, I thought about her relationship with Ryan. They met through me. The two of us had just finished “working” on “stuff” when Ryan came over to show me something he had been working on. She was still at my place when he got there, and they instantly clicked. Ryan ended up asking her for her number right before she left. I regretted not asking her out before he did. Because now all we had was meaningless quickies in my backseat.

We both clambered to the front seat of my car and began our drive to Ryan’s apartment.

“So…” I trailed off, trying to find a conversation topic. “How are things with Ryan?”

“Pretty good,” she says. “Considering the fact I just fucked his best friend and bandmate.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make me sound like a total jackass. I just stayed quiet and kept my eyes on the road. She took note of this and tried to carry on the conversation herself.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re great. I’ve never had someone quite like you. But… I don’t know. I know how wrong this is to be doing, but Ryan isn’t ready for that step yet,” she continued.

“I understand. So you wanna keep doing this until Ryan’s ready?” I asked. I hoped she would’ve said she wanted to do it even after that, but I already knew the answer. She loved Ryan a lot and I knew she didn’t like hurting him like this, but you can’t blame someone for hoping.

“Yeah. I don’t think I could go that long without sex. Besides, I can’t give you up just yet,” she said. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see a devilish smirk displayed on her angelic face.

We let the awkward silence take over and I drove for a few minutes more before arriving at Ryan’s house. Just as we got there, Ryan walked out of his front door. He rushed down the cobblestone walkway to greet us.

“Hey, babe,” he said to his girlfriend. He gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Oh, hey, Brendon!” Even though he greeted me with a kind tone, he still looked between the two of us suspiciously.

Y/N caught on to the look he was giving us and came up with an excuse. “My roommate’s car is in the shop and she asked to borrow mine today. I asked Brendon to drive me over since we live near each other,” she lied.

Ryan’s face softened a bit and he nodded. Even if the rest of his face looked calm, I could still see it in his eyes that he didn’t like the sight of us together. But I guess since he trusted me (for some fucking reason) he believed her and didn’t question me.

“Well, I gotta get going. But I’ll see you guys later,” I excused myself before more lies had to be told.

“Yeah. Next time you come over, I gotta show you this song I’ve been working on,” Ryan gleamed with excitement. “Later, man,” he said.

“Bye, Brendon. Thanks for the lift,” Y/N said. Her and Ryan turned to go back into his house. Y/N walked and, when Ryan wasn’t looking, she turned back to wink at me.

~~~~

Y/N: Can I go over? I wanna talk to you about something

Sure. When?

Y/N: Is now ok?

Yeah, totally. See you in a bit!

I started getting anxious. What did she wanna come over to tell me? Did she decide I was boyfriend material and break up with Ryan to start seeing me? Or did she decide to end things with me?

After a few minutes of anxious waiting, Y/N knocked on the front door of my small apartment. I got up from my spot on the couch and went over to open the door for her. She was standing there with a small smile. In her hands was the t-shirt I gave her once-upon-a-time.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey. Come on in,” I welcomed her in and she followed me inside. Both of us sat down on my small, old, brown leather couch. I fumbled with the tear in my jeans, waiting for her to finally speak.

“So, uh, Ryan and I had sex last night… And we said we’d stop once we did that, so, uh, I came over to give you the shirt back. Since it reminds me too much of you,” she told me, handing me the shirt. The shirt was now a very faded red, compared to the vibrant crayon red it was when I still owned it. I could tell she wore it quite often. It even smelled like the laundry detergent she used.

I stared up at her in awe. I didn’t actually think we’d stop. It took me quite a bit to think of what to say. “Can we still be friends?” I choked out.

“Of course we can,” she said with a bittersweet tone. “No matter what, we’ll always been friends. We were friends before we started fucking, and we’ll be friends after we stop.” She gave a slightly awkward side hug and rested her head on my shoulder

We sat in silence for a few moments. We then both turned to look at each other. As I looked into her eyes I realized just how weak I was for this woman. Y/N cupped my face in her hand and gave me a small kiss. The kiss soon turned into the more. I picked her up and carried her into my bedroom, then gently laid her down on my bed. I was about to pull her shirt off before she put her hand on my chest, letting me know she wanted to stop.

“Bren, wait,” she said, pushing me off of her. “We really shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry. I can’t do this to Ryan. You care about him too, right?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I do.” I frowned. I did care about Ryan, but I also couldn’t keep myself away from her. No matter what direction my relationship with her would go, at least one of the three of us would end up hurt.

“Then we shouldn’t do this.”

“You’re right.”

But to be honest, shortly after that conversation and just laying next to each other in tranquility, we threw that conversation out the window for one last night of intensity and lust. And after we finished, I could instantly tell both of us regretted it more than any other time we had sex throughout the duration of her and Ryan’s relationship.

~~~~

“Hey, how are things back home?” I questioned Y/N over the phone. We were in Africa for a festival, and we hadn’t had a formal conversation in a few days. It had been two or three months since the last time she was in my bedroom for something more than a friendly hang out, and we were still pretty good friends.

“Pretty good. How are things over there?” she asked in return. ��I heard that there was a huge turnout last night.”

“Good, good. Yeah, there were lots of people last night. We’re gonna be going back home in a few days, then take a little break to record some stuff before going back on tour,” I explained. I leaned back on the couch in the empty dressing room while we spoke. “Have you talked to Ryan?”

“Yeah. We’ve talked every night. I don’t think he knows about anything, so that’s good, I guess,” she said. “I think we’re in the clear. I can’t even imagine what would happen if he ever did.”

“Yeah. I don’t think he’ll ever find out about it. I mean, we haven’t fucked in months. I think we’ve pretty much put all of this behind us,” I said.

“Yeah. I’m glad we stopped. I feel a lot less guilty than I did a while ago. Still guilty, but not as much. But anyway, I gotta go. Have fun with the show and I’ll see you guys in a few days! Bye, Bren.”

“Later, Y/N.”

~~~~

“You were fucking my girlfriend?!” Ryan yelled at me. We had just gotten off stage and were getting ready to fly back home the next day. But as soon as we got back to the dressing room, Ryan lashed out at me.

“Dude, calm down,” I insisted, unsuccessfully. I knew it wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot. There was no way I would ever get Ryan to calm down over something like this. Especially since I know he’s been cheated on before and was so salty about it, he wrote one of our first hit singles about it.

“How the fuck do you expect me to calm down about this?!” he raged. “I heard you talking to her earlier, you piece of shit!”

“I-” I tried to come up with something -- anything -- to calm him down. But I already knew he wouldn’t be having any of it.

“Don’t even start! I don’t wanna hear your excuses. How long has this been going on?” He glared at me with his fury-filled eyes, waiting for an answer.

I gulped before answering. “We were friends with benefits before you guys met. We waited until you were ready to have sex before we stopped doing it. We only did it once after that.”

“You mean you guys fucked for months?! What the hell, man? Did you really think I’d never find out about this?” His hands had now formed fists, and I could tell he was prepared to swing at me at any second.

I had never seen Ryan this angry in the years I’d known him. By now, Jon and Spencer were in the room with us and were watching us, speechless.

“Fuck you, Brendon. Keep the band, I don’t care what you guys do. I’m out,” he sighed and started to walk to where his belongings were on the other side of the dressing room and threw it all together as fast as he could. His rage was very evident in the way he through his stuff in his bag.

“You’re quitting over something as stupid as this?!” I inquired. “You’re joking, right?” Truth be told, it wasn’t all that stupid. I just couldn’t imagine the band without him. He wrote amazing music and he was one of my best friends, after all.

“Hell no! After this, I can’t trust you. You didn’t tell me what was going on before I asked her out, and now you can’t keep your hands off her! Well, you can have her and the band now. Just like you always wanted.”

Ryan walked out of the dressing room, leaving Jon, Spencer, and I in a still silence.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Jon asked me, bitterness in his voice.

“I wasn’t.”

#brendon urie #brendon x y/n #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfic #brendon urie one-shot #brendon urie imagine #Panic! at the Disco #p!atd #ryan ross #ryan ross x reader #jon walker #spencer smith #panic! at the disco fanfic #p!atd fanfic #panic! at the disco smut #p!atd smut #og work

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

A Very Bodyguard Christmas. (ymbnmo!B. Urie x Reader)

note: so i wrote this back in 2018, and posted it over on Wattpad, but i figured i needed to make its home here too. :) so enjoy, if you haven't read it already and if you have - have fun rereading. x

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

Brendon grimaced as you tapped the screen of your phone and selected your holiday playlist, smiling contently as you set the device down and allowed the music to fill the air.

A generic Christmas tune was blasting through the speakers, and his annoyance grew when you started to sing along. Not at all pleased with the current going-ons, he hurriedly reached for your phone and shut it off.

The tiniest breath of relief slipped past his lips, and he shut his eyes blissfully.

"Hey," you protested, stopping your work of searching through the rows of storage boxes and turning to glare at him, "I was listening to that."

"Yeah, I know," he scoffed, arching his brows and pocketing your phone, "That was the problem."

With an eye-roll, you folded your arms and shook your head in disbelief. "Come on. You can't seriously tell me that you hate Christmas, too."

"It's all commercialism," he countered with a bored expression, "And I don't see the point of buying into it."

With a slight wheeze, you shook your head again before returning to your search.

"Why am I not surprised?" you murmured, reaching for one particular shelf.

Brendon looked on in disgust as you heaved a nearly overflowing box of Christmas decorations onto the ground next to your feet.

"I honestly can't believe that Fury is letting you do this," he said with a sour face, watching you struggle to move the box but making no effort to help you with it.

"He knows how much I love Christmas," you responded, voice straining a bit as you exerted your energy on trying to push the box forward, "And hanging up the decorations and then having a movie marathon has always been a Christmas tradition."

The box was sliding forward inch by inch, and your bodyguard stepped to the side to allow it room to move without the extra obstruction of his body.

"I am definitely not watching any fucking Christmas movies."

"Oh, piss off, Grinch," you sassed, tossing him a sharp look as you shoved the box past him – with a little bit more force than was necessary.

With a little bit more perseverance, you managed to get the box to the elevator and up to your room. Brendon sighed in relief once you two did.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he dashed out and swaggered over to the break lounge, leaving you alone in the elevator with the box of decorations. You huffed as you shifted it past the metal doors, knitting your brow as you stared after Brendon.

"Aren't you going to help me move the box out?" you called after him.

He turned to face you, clear irritation on his face. "You're the one who's insisting on this bullshit; you can carry the box yourself. Don't make it my problem," he sneered, turning back around.

Before he entered the room and slunk into a corner of his own, he put the doorstopper in.

"Will you at least help me with hanging the lights? I'm not tall enough," you yelled, but only got ignored.

Sighing loudly, you slumped your shoulders tiredly before mumbling to yourself.

"At least he left the door open."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

#christmas imagines #christmas #brendon urie #brendon urie x reader #patd #panic at the disco #p!atd #panic! at the disco #emo #band #bands #fanfic #imagines #imagine #band members #emo trinity #emo quartet #music #celebs #celebrity #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert

[robinrunsfiction]

Panic! At The Disco Stories

Brendon Urie

Valentine’s Challenge 2019 - I’d Wait Forever (Brendon Urie x Female Reader)

But It’s Better If You Do (Brendon Urie x Female Reader)

Picture Perfect (Brendon Urie x Female Reader)

Twelve Days of Christmas (And Winter) Stories 2019 - Day 6 (Brendon Urie x Female Reader)

Ryan Ross

Valentine’s Challenge 2019 - The (After) Life of the Party (Ryan Ross x Female Reader)

In the Middle of Summer (Ryan Ross x Female Reader Multi-Chapter)

Cry On The Couch (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Not Yours to Tell (Ryan Ross x Female Reader)

I May Be an Idiot, But I’m Not Stupid Drabble (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Alone Together (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Twelve Days of Christmas (And Winter) Stories 2019 - Day 12 (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Follow You (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader drabble)

Winter/Christmas Alphabet 2020 - H (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Winter/Christmas Alphabet 2020 - V (Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader)

Spencer Smith

Valentine’s Special 2020 (Spencer Smith x Female Reader)

Nicole Row

Valentine’s Challenge 2019 - Surprise (Nicole Row x Female Reader)

#brendon urie x reader #ryan ross x reader #spencer smith x reader #nicole row x reader #panic! at the disco fanfic #panic! at the disco fan fiction #panic! at the disco imagine #panic! at the disco x reader

[eurynome827]

Not If You Care For Me

The Las Vegas strip, 1958. You've got a lot of problems for a casino owner's daughter with lots of daddy's money to spend. A jealous ex-husband with ties to the mob that you can't seem to quit. An up and coming singer who may be too much of a distraction. It's all fun and games until the heart that you're gambling with is your own.

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader/Lounge Singer!Brendon Urie x Reader

Warnings: Will be posted for each part but overall smut(terfluff), pinch of angst, dash of uncertainty, sprinkle of feels.

A/N: This is a work of fiction and I do not own the characters/people mentioned. This is Alternate Universe RPF and I proceed with the knowledge that Sebastian "you should write your feelings" Stan and Brendon "(as far as fanfic goes) you do you" Urie won't ever see this anyway, so please enjoy my Harlequin romance novel 1958 Las Vegas that I barely researched except for a lifetime of Rat Pack idolization (besides making sure that songs mentioned were recorded before 1958, that is worth a Google search).

(projected):

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Coming soon! Taglist is OPEN.

Watch this if you want to know why this story is happening.

#mob!bucky barnes x reader #lounge singer!brendon urie x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #brendon urie fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #not if you care for me fic

[cerebralthundering]

Live

Sooo this is my very first Brendon Urie story. I kinda fell down a hole of Brendon smut & have basically been stuck ever since. Since this is also smut it’s female reader x Brendon. This is basically my hormones watching him perform turned into a story, haha.

Tonight is the first night in a long time that you are able to see your boyfriend, Brendon, perform live. With everything that had been going on in your life lately and being so busy, you hadn't gotten the chance to attend a concert in many months. You're standing off to the side of the stage watching the whole thing, giddy with joy and bopping around singing along to all the songs. You had also forgotten what watching him live does to you. He's already pretty confident but the confidence he exudes on stage is something else. He just seems like he is at home when on stage and the happiness just blossoms. Then there's those hips - god, those hips - he definitely knows how to move them. And then when he takes off his shirt, all sweaty, and you see those v-lines... "Fuck," you mutter to yourself. You can feel yourself getting wet just watching him and thinking about it. The way he moves those hips in those tight leather pants - it drives you insane. Part of it is probably because you know how good he is with those hips. The way his hips move when he's fucking you senesless...

"Hey babe!" he cheers as he runs to you off stage, bringing you back to reality. He brings you in for a tight embrace and an excited kiss.

"Hey! That was awesome, B. I really missed seeing you live. It’s so much fun!”

"Yeah?! What did you think of the show?" he inquires like a giddy kid showing off for his friends.

"Amazing as always! I definitely enjoyed watching you," you accentuate while licking & biting on your bottom lip.

He cocks an eyebrow at you, reading the tone of that statement. His eyes darken while gazing at you as his demeanor changes and he asks in a low, husky voice, "What does that mean exactly?"

You swallow hard as you bite harder on your lip and start running a finger down his chest. Fuck, you really want him right now. You can see his chest start rising and falling faster as his heart rate speeds up in excitement as his eyes follow your finger. You start looking around to see if there’s anywhere you could sneak off to. There’s not any empty rooms or closets nearby, and the dressing room is pretty far away. Suddenly you see a spot where there's a bunch of travel cases for equipment stacked up high near some tall speakers by a wall that are at least eight feet or more high. A lightbulb goes off in your head and you grab his wrist and drag him behind the cases where no one can really see you. You back yourself up against the wall with his body close to yours as you bring him in for a rough kiss. His hands plant on your hips before you take one them and gently slide it down the front of your jeans and under your panties. His fingers soon reach your wet folds and his breath hitches as he pulls away from the kiss to look at you.

"Baby..." he groans out. He moves even closer to you, his body pressed right up against you now while sliding his fingers further down between your folds, getting coated in moisture. You look up at him innocently. "Kitten..." he purrs in your ear, making you whimper softly at the name that always makes you melt. "You're so wet."

"This is what watching you does to me," you tell him as he makes a throaty groan, his breathing clearly increasing while you feel the bulge in his tight pants grow against you.

He starts trying to unbutton your jeans with his free hand but is struggling. "Undo your jeans for me, kitten."

You quickly obey by unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, making it easier for him to work his hand between your legs as you rest your arms back around his neck with your fingers gently tangled in the base of his hair. You can feel his index and ring finger slide on each side of your clit as his middle finger rubs over it, slowly moving his way to your entrance to tease at it as your mouth falls agape.

"Tell me how I get you this wet without even touching you," he commands as he slides two fingers inside, making you moan out in pleasure.

You start trying to mutter words between the moans as he starts slowly pumping and curling his fingers inside. “Well...mmm...th-the confidence you exude on...oh, fuck...o-on stage,” you stumble. He starts speeding up a little bit, making it harder for you to even form coherent thoughts to put into words as his fingertips hit your sweet spot when curling. “Then those hips...f-fuck, those hIPS...god...”

With his free hand, he grabs at your thigh for you to bring it up to wrap around his waist so you do as suggested, allowing him to finger you even deeper. Your right hand moves up higher to tangle tighter in his hair as your left hand scrapes down his exposed back.

“What about these hips?” he questions before biting down on your neck while making a quick bucking motion again you.

“Oh!...your hips, the w-way you move them...mm fuck...s-so fucking sexy in thOSE...oh god...in those tight pants, oh! Just thinking abou-...ohhh...about how you work those hips for mE.” He groans hard while biting at your neck again, for sure leaving a mark, and involuntarily thrusts against you as your head falls back after finally getting all your words out.

As his fingers work harder and deeper, the louder your moans are becoming even as you try to bite your lip to muffle them and hold back. With quick thinking, Brendon moves his free hand from your thigh up to cover your mouth with his palm. This honestly just turns you on even more.

He moves his head from your neck to lean in closely to your ear to whisper darkly, "I'm going to finger fuck this wet pussy that's been pining for me all night right here behind these speakers until you cum while I muffle your screams so no one else can hear how fucking hot I get you. Then I'm going to take you back to the dressing room, get us completely naked, and bend you over the couch on your knees and clean up this mess I caused with my tongue until you cum again while I get to hear those pretty sounds you make." Your legs are trembling at his words and you’re whining as your eyes start to roll back as the heat in your lower stomach increases. "Finally after that, I'm going to keep you bent over and really show you what these hips can do."

“Oh my god,” your cry muffled under his palm. With that and his fingers pumping even harder, your head spins and you come undone. Your one leg still wrapped around his waist clenches even tighter as your nails dig into his back, back arches, and hips ride his hand while you cum. It's a good thing his hand is still over your mouth to muffle the sounds you made, although you're still not sure if it was enough to keep anyone from hearing but frankly you’re not sure that you really care. After you finally finish riding out your high, you drop your leg back down for stabilization and he pulls his hand out of your pants. He slowly sucks on each finger while staring at you with hooded eyes, gently moaning, before removing his other hand from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you pant. He smirks at you while licking off every last drop off his fingers.

“Mmm, how come you never told me about how watching me live gets you?” he wonders as one hand settles on your hip while the other traces over your lips with one fingertip as your mouth falls open.

“I don’t know,” you reply as you gently suck on the fingertip before releasing. “I guess things were still kinda new before and I didn’t want to weird you out or something,” you answer, realizing in hindsight how disappointing that was now that you know what would happen.

He playfully frowns at you with fake sad puppy dog eyes, clearly insinuating that you should’ve told him sooner. You both laugh before you playfully swat his chest then close in for a soft kiss as you hold onto each other. “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he coos.

#brendon urie #panic! at the disco #panic at the disco #the amazing beebo #beebo #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #brendon smut #smut #brendon fluff #fluff #fem x reader #female x reader #brendon fanfic #brendon urie fanfic #brendon fan fic #brendon fan fiction #brendon fanfiction #brendon #panic at the disco fanfic #panic at the disco fan fic #panic! at the beebo #panic! atd #panic! fandom #panic! at the brendon #panic! at the tumblr #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fluff

[loverontheleft]

See Me (revised)

Sub!(ish)B x reader (I know; I’m surprised too)

2.5k words

Warnings: dirty talk and language

-||-

You’re leaning against a wall backstage, hands clasped in front of you and legs crossed, waiting for him to come off stage. Your black sheath dress curves over your body, hugs your chest, and skims your thighs; you’re entirely overdressed, but you’ve got a plan, and the access a dress provides is essential. The sound of Brendon’s footsteps brings your focus back to the moment.

He appears, and he falters as his eyes drink you in. You meet his appreciative gaze with one of your own. He’s exhausted and shirtless, with a sheen to his skin that’s a combination of sweat and sheer exhilaration. His hair, tousled out of its earlier styled form, falls damp against his forehead, and his face is flushed but his eyes are bright as he looks at you.

“Damn, Urie,” you drawl, grinning when he laughs and runs a hand through his already-messy hair. “You put on one hell of a show,” you tell him, letting him hook an arm around your waist and pull you close for a soft kiss.

His warm lips on yours: the feeling is the same as sliding into freshly washed sheets or stepping into a hot shower after a day out in rainy, cold weather. Comforting. Soothing. Familiar. Amazing every time. His fingers trace the material of your dress over your hip and you smile against his mouth, running your hands over his bare shoulders. His skin is hot from the stage lights, and if this were any other night, you’d cling to him and beg him to carry you back to his dressing room and cover you in his warmth.

“I like this,” Brendon murmurs, voice rough and eyes dark. “You should let me take you back to my dressing room and show you just how much I like it.” You smile to yourself; you love that you two know each other so well. His thumb is drawing hearts on your hip, and you press a kiss to his jaw, letting him tangle your fingers together. “Gonna let me, pretty girl?”

“Mmmm, maybe,” you tease, hip-checking him playfully as you stroll hand in hand to the dressing room. “I’m pretty sleepy…” you tell him, grinning when he whines; it’s a soft, disappointed sound that melts your heart. He hip-checks you back before pulling you firmly to him and leading you down the hallway to the dressing room. He pushes the door open and follows you in, turning to close it behind you and locking it. “Are you allowed to do that?” You arch an eyebrow. “Zack won’t shit a brick over not being able to get in and lay eyes on you?”

“Please do not talk about Zack right now,” Brendon says with a short laugh, kissing you softly. “I’m focused on you.” You grin and pull him closer, moaning quietly into his mouth when his hands clutch at your hips. “Yeah, honey, love when you moan for me. Goddamn, you look so fucking pretty. My pretty girl…” Brendon whispers to you, moving his lips down your neck and holding you close.

“You think I look pretty, B?” You murmur back, tugging his hair. He nods, trailing a hand down your thigh and flexing his fingers. “Then,” you pause, pulling back and meeting his eyes with a playful smirk. “You should see me in a crown.”

You don’t even care if he’s missing the blatant Billie Eilish reference—you’re more interested in how he’ll react to you taking charge. You love when he’s dominant, but you’ve both been experimenting with you taking the lead lately, and it’s been thrilling. Now, alone in his dressing room, you want to see how far you can go.

“Yeah?” He grins. “You are my Princess, so I suppose it’s only appropriate. But while you in a crown is a very appealing image…I don’t have an extra one.”

“Who said anything about an extra one?” You tease, freeing yourself from his hands to pluck the crown he received during ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ from the top of the wardrobe case. “I’m gonna take this.” You set it on top of your head with a smug smile.

“And what am I supposed to wear?” Brendon pouts good-naturedly, adjusting the crown so it sits at an angle. “Though you do look damn good in it…” he tells you, running a finger down your cheek tenderly.

“I’m sure you’ve got a snapback around here somewhere,” you say with a smile, kissing him again. “Because I don’t think you’re getting this crown back for a while.” Your eyes fall on an abandoned baseball cap and, stretching out for it, you snag it by the strap and place it on his head. Brendon laughs and spanks you lightly, telling you that he’s gonna get that crown back one way or another eventually, grinning when you squeal and rock forward.

“Not even with a spanking,” you tell him, wiggling against him. “This is mine now, and tonight, I’m not your princess. I’m your queen.” He grins, letting his hand wander down the back of your thigh, lifting so your knee is up by his hip. The hemline of your dress rises and you give him a faux-scandalized look. “Bad boy,” you murmur, biting your lip. “Trying to get my dress up…”

“Mmmm, but my queen likes it when I’m bad,” he murmurs as he places warm, soft kisses down your neck. “Wha—oh,” he exclaims and then sighs contentedly as you push him down to his knees. “You want me to be really bad, don’t you, baby?” He smiles up at you and tugs at your dress. “Either the heels come off or you come down here; you’re too tall for me to play with you when you’re standing,” he tells you, looking up at you adoringly. “I’ll be as bad as you want me to be, but I need you closer.” Both hands on his shoulders, you drop to your knees and let him kiss you. Shifting carefully, you settle back so you’re seated with your knees pressed together in front of you. You scoot backward until your back is against the couch cushions, and Brendon grins, turning his hat around so the brim is in the back.

You whimper and bite your lip; that move drives you fucking wild, because you know he’s about to eat you out like his life depends upon it. And the way he talks about how badly he needs to taste you, it sometimes does. Brendon’s leaning forward to crawl towards you on his hands and knees; as he approaches, you lift a leg and press just the toe of your shoe against the strap on his forehead. He freezes and whines when he sees the seductive smile playing on your lips. When you finally speak after a long silence, your voice is firm, level, and controlled.

“Beg.”

“Wha—?” Brendon starts, but you silence him with a single raised eyebrow.

“Beg,” you repeat simply. There’s a beat of silence, and you press slightly harder, making him sigh your name longingly. “If you look closely, you’ll see I’m not wearing anything under this dress…” You grin when he inhales sharply. “You want it, B? You want my pussy?” Eyes on his, you move your foot from his forehead to rest on his shoulder, letting your legs spread to emphasize your point. He nods weakly, moving forward—you make a small scolding sound, bringing your other foot up to stop him in his tracks. “Then beg.”

“Babydoll,” Brendon groans, bracing himself on one hand so he can caress your calf draped over his shoulder. “Please—let me—” he cuts himself off, shuddering with want. “Please. I need—I gotta—you look—oh fuuuuck, I can see that your sweet cunt is so ready for me,” he groans, eyes wide and darting between your eyes and the delta of your thighs. “Just let me—fuck, honey—the taste; you know I love how you taste. Let me just—fuck, I need you on my face, Y/n, please—babydoll, let me—” he falls suddenly silent, eyes sliding shut as you allow his hand to creep higher, over your knee, his arm stretching now so his fingers graze your upper thigh. He turns his head slightly and your foot moves to press against his temple as his lips brush your calf. “Babydoll, you’re so—honey, I need to…oh my god, baby, fuck I want it, I want your pussy, I want you,” Brendon groans, sliding his hand to your inner thigh and grunting when he feels the slickness there. “So damn wet for me, my pretty baby, oh god—wanna lick you so badly, wanna eat your—honey, fuck—”

“Mmmmm,” you purr approvingly, letting your other foot dangle over his other shoulder now. With nothing to stop him, he looks at you eagerly, waiting for permission. “You’ve almost convinced me,” you tell him, stressing the ‘almost’ with relish. He groans again, knowing you’re gonna make him beg even more. “But I wanna hear more about how much you love it.” His eyes light up, and you smile at him affectionately. “Yeah, B. That’s what I want to hear.”

“Oh, babydoll,” he murmurs, crawling forward so that your knees fold over his shoulders and you can cross your ankles on his back. “You know your pussy drives me fucking wild—tasting you, licking you, suckling you, touching you, spreading you with my fingers to really tease you with my tongue, watching you gasp and writhe and moan and feeling your hands in my hair, tugging every time I make my baby feel good…” he pauses, shifting back to rest on his heels. You yelp and uncross your ankles so you’re not sent sprawling to the floor under him, and he apologizes quickly as you adjust, legs still over his shoulders but at a higher angle.

“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe, grinning at him. “Don’t let me distract you.”

“You, honey, are very distracting,” he says with a soft laugh. “But now that I’ve got you like this…” he eyes you appreciatively, your arms spread across the couch cushions as you recline back against them, your legs draped over his shoulders for him. “And I can do this…” his hands slide up your thighs, framing your hip bones before pivoting slightly to slide his thumbs down, brushing over your wet heat. “And I can do this…” he continues, turning his head to kiss your calf, sucking teasingly. “And this,” he murmurs against your skin, before dropping a hand down to support himself as he starts kissing lower and lower, mouth moving higher and higher up your leg. He’s leaning forward to lower himself down, tongue dragging over your inner thigh, eyes shut and face flushed with pleasure. Finally he looks up at you again. “I’m quite happy.”

“Yeah?” You grin, inhaling sharply as he nibbles at your inner thigh. “Quite happy? What would make you happier?”

He looks at you, dark eyes filled with want. “You know what would make me happier,” he tells you simply, adjusting the hat again with a sly smile. You grin and tell him to keep going. “Well,” he says thoughtfully. “I want to have you under me, gasping and moaning and shaking when I make you come from my tongue.” You smile and lift one hand from the couch cushion, indicating he should keep going.

“Be more specific, huh?” He smiles, kissing your inner thigh again. “I want to spread you out under me and kiss every inch of you. I want to tease your perfect cunt by kissing and licking and touching until you’re nice and slick for me…gonna trace you with the tip of my tongue just to watch you moan and tug on my hair because I know what you need to come. I want to slide my tongue up into your pretty pussy and taste my babydoll properly, keeping your legs spread wide so you can roll your hips up into my mouth…I want to wrap my arms around your thighs and eat you out til you’re the one begging me, promising me you’re ready…and I’ll know you’re ready when you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. That’s when I’m gonna lick and suck your pretty clit and finger your cunt like you love, two fingers deep in you curling and rubbing, til you come, squeezing my fingers, soaking my face, and moaning my name.” He’s breathing hard and you’re trembling; you can feel that your inner thighs are slick now.

“And if you can take it,” Brendon adds in a soft voice, licking his lips. “If you can take it, I want to get you up on my mouth riding my tongue, pulling my hair, and rubbing your gorgeous cunt all over my face til you come again. Want to feel your wet pussy all over my face; want my entire mouth and chin to be slick and shining with your juices, baby. Want to make my babydoll come like she deserves…”

“That sounds pretty good,” you manage, grinning. Brendon smiles up at you, both hands up under the hem of your skirt now, stroking your thighs and massaging lightly. “I want all of that.”

Carefully, you lift your legs from his shoulders and lower them to the ground, spread wide on either side of him. He moans when he sees how wet you already are, biting his lip and closing his eyes to take a few steadying breaths. “You want it, baby?” Your voice is soft and you shift slightly to stand up. “Get up here and unzip me so you can show me how much you want my pussy.” He clamors to his feet, hands finding the zipper and tugging eagerly so your sheath pools at your feet. The black lace bra makes him groan, and he looks at you for permission. “Take it off too,” you instruct, tracing circles on his shoulders. “Strip your babydoll. Get me naked for you.” With no hesitation, he unclasps the bra and you let it slide from your shoulders to join your dress on the floor.

“Now,” you purr, cupping his face affectionately, kissing him softly, and adjusting the hat so the strap across his forehead sits higher. “Lay me down and eat me out, Urie. Show me how your favorite food is pussy,” you instruct, giving him a sweet smile. “Make me believe it, and I’ll let you come.”

“My love,” Brendon murmurs, guiding you back to the couch so he can stretch you out on it. “You already know you won’t need to do a damn thing to make me come; I can come just from the feeling of your perfect cunt on my face.” He crawls on top of you and kisses you firmly. Your smile widens and you reach up to rest a hand on the top of his head, pushing him down. “Fucking love when you do this,” he groans, letting you guide him exactly where you want him.

“I know,” you say softly. “I also know I won’t need to do a damn thing, as you put it. But you’ll notice I said ‘let you come,’ not ‘make you come.’” You giggle when he looks up at you with wide eyes. “I know your perfect cock will be leaking and throbbing just from eating me out. I know you’ll be aching to get inside me and let go. Trust me, honey. I know you’ll be ready to come. You’re going to need to prove to me that I should let you come.”

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagine #brendon x reader #brendon urie #he could fuck me any way he wanted #my work #fanfic #imagine #brendon urie fanfiction #panic! at the disco

[dirty-urie]

Experience

Chapter 7

3k words

Warning: oral sex (yay!), masturbation, discussions of sex, discussions of condomless sex (bad. wrong. bad.)

You both sit in silence on the couch for a while, processing the weight of your conversation. 

You bite your lip. “Brendon?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Can I ask something… crazy?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Will you go down on me? Now?”

Brendon’s eyes widen. “Is this about… him?” Brendon shudders.

“No. Absolutely not. This is about us. We fought, and I want us to come back together. Oral sex is deeply intimate, and you love it, and I’m sure I’ll love receiving it. Let’s come together, baby.” You slide into Brendon’s lap, turning around to face him.

He smiles at you before he kisses you deeply. “Okay, yes.” Brendon slides his hands under your thighs. “Hold on tight, darling.”

You intertwine your hands around the back of his neck and wrap your legs around his torso. He stands up and carries you to his bedroom while your mouths collide in a frenzy. He finally lays you down on his bed, not breaking your kiss. You buck up against him, and he pulls down your pants to stroke your clit.

“Eat me out, Brendon. Please,” you beg.

He crawls down between your legs and yanks your pants the rest of the way down. He nuzzles your inner thigh until you throw your legs over his shoulders, whining. You squeeze your thighs around his head. His tongue tentatively flicks over your clit, and you immediately shake under him. He pops up from between your legs. He’s grinning, his pupils are blown, and the bottom half of his face is shiny with you. “Good?” He asks.

You reach out for the top of his head to guide him back down. He gasps when you pull his hair, and you grasp it tightly, remembering how much he likes it. “Very good,” you gasp. “More. And fingers please.”

“I get the message,” he chuckles. “Patience first though. You’ll get my fingers, darling, don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.” He licks a stripe over your whole cunt, starting just below your entrance and trailing slowly all the way up to your clit. He slides his tongue back down to your entrance before he plunges his tongue inside you, probing around.

“It feels like- oh god. It feels like you’re making out with my pussy,” you groan. 

He licks back up to your clit, rolling his tongue over it. He finally brings his fingers up to your wetness, circling them teasingly around your entrance. It’s only when you’re desperately pleading for him inside you that he pushes them inside, agonizingly slowly. He curls them expertly, and your muscles clench hard around him. He places a kiss right on your clit before pulling his mouth off you. “You taste so fucking good, darling,” he gasps before burying his face back into you. He sucks hard on your clit, steady pressure. You shriek happily, squirming against his face.

You crane your neck to look at him, and you see him grinding rapidly against the bed. “Fuck. You’re so turned on.”

He moans. “So turned on,” he confirms against you. 

Brendon sucks harder on your clit, and you squeeze your legs even tighter around him. “I’m gonna come,” you choke out. “I’m gonna come all over your face, B.”

Brendon makes an encouraging noise, and you tense up hard as you come, soaking his face even more, before you relax into a quivering heap. He continues to lick at you greedily until you push him off, oversensitive. He crawls up over you before collapsing next to you, breathing hard. You notice his erection pushing against his shorts, and you shyly move your hand to the front of his pants. He gasps when he feels your hand on your cock through the fabric. He turns to you with wide eyes. “Whatcha doin’, pretty girl?”

“I want you to get off,” you mumble.

“Oh, honey, I’ll take care of myself. You know I will.”

“I know, but,” you pause, biting your lip. “Could I touch you? Just a little? I want to.”

“You’re ready for that?” He asks nervously.

“It’s skin, Brendon. I mean, it’s not that much different than touching your arm in the grand scheme of things. You won’t traumatize me, I promise. I’m ready.”

Brendon pulls his cock out and strokes it slowly before taking his own hand off, inviting you to touch him yourself. You reach out to touch him tentatively with your thumb and index finger, stroking him gently. “It’s softer than I thought it would be,” you observe thoughtfully.

Brendon's face screws up in confusion; he thinks he’s pretty fucking hard. He tells you as much. 

You giggle. “No, I mean, your dick itself is firm. But your skin feels softer than I thought it would.” You press your fingers slightly tighter together, and you can easily feel him throbbing in your hand. He twitches and jerks, and you yank your hand away. “I think it’s angry.”

You both laugh, and Brendon pumps lotion on his hand before he replaces your fingers with his fist. “Not angry. Just crazy aroused,” he gasps, stroking himself tightly.

You stare at him in awe for a few minutes until you see his face screwed up in pleasure. You recognize it from the last time he came for you. “Do you want tissues to come on? Are you there yet?” you ask. He nods, face full of concentration, and you pass him the tissue box. “Come for me.”

Brendon quickly grabs a few tissues and holds them against the head of his cock. His hips stutter and his face goes slack as he comes, moaning your name. He tosses the used tissues in your trash can, and you cuddle up next to him. 

“You’re so pretty when you come,” you tell him. 

“Not as pretty as you,” he returns, and you blush. 

“That’s sweet, B.”

“I’m very sweet.” He kisses your cheek. “Can we cuddle? It’s almost past your bedtime.”

“I have to finish a demo before midnight tomorrow,” you pout. “I should really get to work now.”

“I’ll come help then.”

“You really don’t have to do that. You should get some rest. Orgasms make you sleepy.” 

“This is purely selfish, babe. The sooner you finish this, the sooner we’re back in bed together.”

“Help away then.”

•••

“I think that’s it. That’s the demo,” you tell him. Working with Brendon doesn’t feel like work. He reminds you of why you’re passionate about your job in the first place. 

He takes off his headphones, grinning from ear to ear. “God, babe, that’s incredible. You’re so talented,” he gushes, bouncing in his chair. 

You stare at him fondly.

He laughs. “Why are you looking at me like that, pretty girl?”

You sigh happily. “I love you.” You’d said it before, of course, but it feels more real now, more solid.

“I love you too, y/n,” he says reverently, reaching out for your hand. His face lights up with an idea. “Hey, is your passport up to date?”

“Yeah,” you say nervously, not sure where he’s going with this.

“Come to Mexico with me.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t have to be for the full week. I know that’s a long time to be away from home. You can fly down with me, and I’ll pay for your ticket home. Or I’ll pay for your ticket there and you can fly back with me. Whatever works best for your schedule.”

“Shit, I- yes absolutely. I’ll have to reschedule some things, but I can work on demos from the hotel,” you reason, mostly to yourself. “God, I need a break. I don’t know what to do with Turnip though.” The cat in question stretches on your desk and jumps into your lap for head scratches.

“Kala’s watching Bogart and Penny. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind looking after my best friend, Turnip,” Brendon coos, petting Turnip. 

“The dogs have never met Turnip. What if they don’t get along?”

“Kala will keep them separated for the most part. It’ll be okay,” Brendon soothes. 

“Turnip is my baby. I love him more than I love you, B.”

“Ouch. But noted. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Turnip will be just fine. And you will be just fine. I promise. We’ll have so much fun. I’ll get us a fancy, romantic room in the resort right by the beach. It’ll be perfect.”

•••

Brendon returned home when you were done with your demo to catch up on sleep, and he let you do the same. As exhausted as you are, however, you keep tossing and turning, worry nagging your mind. You’re pretty sure Brendon invited you to Mexico in the spur of the moment, but it’s a pretty nice trip, even if his label is paying for some of it. You wonder if he’s intending to sleep with you in Mexico. You think you’re ready. You know he’d be okay with you saying no, but you want to know his expectations beforehand. And if he’s willing, it’d be silly to turn down your first time on a nice vacation in a gorgeous location.

•••

You pick at your cuticles silently while Brendon makes breakfast. He snuck in while you were still asleep, and texted you: “I’m in the kitchen. Not a burglar. Please don’t freak out. Love you, darling! 🥰😚💋” You stumbled blearily into the kitchen 15 minutes later to see Brendon stripped down to his underwear, humming happily and making you breakfast. It was even better than you imagined.

“What’s on your mind?” Brendon asks as he flips over your french toast. 

“Nothing,” you lie, your leg bouncing. 

He turns down the heat on the stove and sits down with you at the breakfast table. “Hey, pretty girl, what’s up? You seem anxious.”

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you say, and at least it’s a half-truth.

He kisses your cheek, and he returns to the stove. “If you say so.” He doesn’t believe you. You were never a really good liar.

You stand up, feeling antsy in your chair, before finally deciding to just talk to him. It’s Brendon. What’s the worst that could happen? “Hey, B?” you finally ask, walking behind the counter.

Brendon doesn’t look up from the stove. “Yeah?”

You struggle to find the best words. “Are you planning to have sex with me in Mexico? Like… real sex?” That’s not right. “Penetrative sex?” You try before scrunching your nose. The word “penetrate” is kind of violent.

Brendon whips around, accidentally grazing across the hot pan in his shock. “Ow, shit.” He sucks his finger into his mouth. 

You want to shrink into the floor and die. “Nevermind,” you mumble, trying to think of a plausible excuse to run away and never see him again. 

Brendon flips the food onto a plate and puts it in front of you. “No, sorry, a fair question. It just took me by surprise,” he apologizes when he sees your wide eyes and red cheeks.

“Oh.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll be honest, the thought has crossed my mind,” he admits. “But just as passing fantasy. Believe me, I had no ulterior motives for inviting you to Mexico. I love you and want to spend time with you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, but instead, you feel kind of disappointed. “Well, could we?”

“Could we what?”

You roll your eyes. He’s lucky he’s pretty. “Are you going to make me spell it out? Could we,” you take a deep breath, “have sex in Mexico?”

His mouth gapes open. “You and me?”

“Yes.”

“Have sex?”

“Mhm.”

“In Mexico?”

“What part of this aren’t you grasping?” You ask, frustrated.

“Together?”

“It’s a yes or no question, Brendon!” 

Brendon flails for the right answer. “If you’re ready, absolutely,” he finally settles on. “But are you sure you wouldn’t rather do it at home? Wouldn't you feel safer and more comfortable that way?”

You shake your head. “I trust you. I’ll be safe and comfortable wherever we are. and not to be cliché, but I want my first time, our first time together, to be special. More special than either of our bedrooms.”

He abandons his food to come over and hug you. “Then, of course, darling. I’ll take such good care of you.”

You melt into his arms. “I know you will.” 

Brendon walks back over to plate his own breakfast, and you walk with him, his arm wrapped around you. He grabs his plate and sits back at the table with you.

You both pick up your forks and start to eat in awkward silence. “Should I go on birth control?” You ask after a few minutes, nibbling a slice of banana. Brendon blushes and stutters, and you furrow your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, you don’t have to,” Brendon says without elaborating, returning to his food.

You stare at him with bewilderment. “Why?”

Brendon sighs. “Shit, I wasn’t looking forward to this conversation,” he says, mostly to himself. “But I guess it’s time. Especially if we’re going to sleep together.”

You’re still confused.“What conversation?”

“The kids conversation,” Brendon says, wincing. 

Panic runs through you. He doesn’t want you to stay off birth control, so he can knock you up, does he? 

“I got a vasectomy a few years ago,” he starts. You slump slightly in relief. “It can technically be reversed if we want kids one day, but, uh, I don’t. Want kids that is. Probably ever. It might change, but you should assume it won’t.” 

You balk at him, still caught off guard.

“Sorry, I know this is a lot. And if you’re freaking out because I’m moving too fast, I get it. But I do really want to settle down with you eventually, so if you’re dead-set on children, I don’t want either of us to waste our time.”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t want kids either, don’t worry. But I do want you. So much.”

Brendon leans forward to peck your temple. “Thank goodness I made you breakfast before talking about this,” Brendon jokes. “I’m sure that helped me convince you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Your heart stops. “The rest of your life? Brendon, is this-”

“No, no, no,” Brendon quickly clarifies. “This is not a proposal. If I propose to you- no, when I propose to you, I won’t be in my boxer briefs. And I’ll have a real ring. Not just pineapple rings,” he promises.

You laugh, wiping tears from welling in your eyes. “That’s a good plan. I would have said yes anyway, by the way. Even without breakfast. It certainly doesn’t hurt though.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Brendon smiles at you, and you grin back goofily.

Fuck, you love him. “I hate to abandon this delicious breakfast, but what are the chances of you letting me drag you to bed right now?” You ask, your breathing getting heavier. 

Brendon’s pupils dilate. “High. Very high.”

•••

“…so. Since you’re vasectomized, we won’t have to use a condom in Mexico, right?” You ask as he bucks into your fist.

Brendon gasps at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut. “Um. N- shit, honey, your hand- No. Condoms are non-negotiable.”

“Why?” You whine.

Brendon nudges your hand off his dick, laughing. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one irresponsibly begging not to use a condom?”

“Just one time! My first! I just wanna be close to you!” You pout, trailing a finger up his still-hard cock.

“You know what they say, it only takes one time to ruin your life,” Brendon chides in a sing-song voice.

You roll your eyes. “I know that. But there are always risks no matter what. Please, Brendon. I’ll even take a Plan B afterward.”

“No.”

You don’t understand his hesitation. There's basically no chance he’ll get you pregnant. You gasp. Unless pregnancy isn’t his concern. “Do you have herpes? Is that why? Look, Brendon, pretty much everyone has herpes. I’m bound to get it sooner or later.”

“I don’t have herpes!”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re my girl, and I want you safe and protected. And I know it’s easy to say you want to be as close as possible to me, but in the back of your mind, you’ll be worrying about pregnancy and herpes, and even just an infection from a pH imbalance. I want your first time to be as non-stressful and fun and pleasurable as it can be,” Brendon explains. “Plus, I don’t want you to develop bad habits. You should be able to properly put on and use a condom.”

You sigh. “Damnit. Those are compelling reasons.”

Brendon smiles smugly. “I know.”

You continue to pout nonetheless. 

Brendon’s face softens. “Darling, you are a grown, consenting adult. If you would really, really prefer no condom, I will be okay with that. After all,” he chuckles, ”your perfect pussy right on my cock sounds incredible.”

You hold back a moan to let him talk.

“But I will remind you that your first time will not be your last, and we’ll always have a chance to go without a condom once you go on birth control and I get tested again and we’re home safe in case something happens,” he points out. 

“Yes, that's true. Okay. I agree with you. You can wear a condom if you insist.”

He laughs again. “No woman has ever said that to me before.”

“What can I say? I’m one of a kind.”

Brendon rolls on top of you, kissing all over your face. “One of a kind indeed. Now, you gonna let me go down on you, pretty girl?” 

You roll your hips up against him. “Yes, please. I’m so wet, B.”

“I know, baby. Oh, shit- sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”

“No,” you breathe. “Don’t apologize. I like it coming from you. You love me. You take care of me. I am your baby.”

Brendon smiles at you warmly. "My girl."

#brendon urie fanfic #brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie imagine #my work #brendon urie x reader

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Not Superficial - Brendon Urie x Reader

Request: , I was wondering if you could do a Brendon Urie x reader where the reader used to go to schol with Brendon and she liked him but he didn’t like her back because she used to be nerdy, wearing glasses, braces, acne etc. But now she’s like a smoking hot chick and he realizes what he missed out and they get together in the end? And the way they meet is she actually went to the concert and she had VIP passes so they meet backstage and all. Please and thank you. Can’t wait to see what you write. Summary: The Reader and Brendon went to school together, now they meet again at one of his concerts. Reader: female Word count: 1 178 A/N: I’m gonna say it upfront: I feel uncomfortable with this request. The idea that it takes a complete change of looks to please someone is not a message I want to send. Please remember, and I mean this not only for girls, but for boys and everyone else too, if someone rejects you because of your looks, it’s their loss, as painful as it is in that moment. That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to actively change stuff about yourself that you don’t like, but you shouldn’t do it for anybody but yourself.

Backstage was a lot more hectic and cramped than you had imagined. It had been pure chance that your best friend had managed to get some of the super rare backstage VIP tickets, and now you were nervously waiting to meet the band.

Over the last months everyone, who had not yet known Panic! at the Disco, had been bombarded with the new hits that were playing on every radio station. But you had known Panic! since the beginning, hell even longer, considering Panic! now equaled Brendon Urie.

Brendon and you had been to school together. The dorky boy had always held a special place in your heart, even before all the music and touring and money and fame. But at the same time you knew that while you had spent your time in high school thinking about him all the time, he probably had no idea who you were. Honestly, sometimes you felt like you did not even recognise yourself anymore.

Back then you had had the worst skin problems, the kind that not even the doctors were able to help you with. That alone had been enough for most of your classmates to stay far away from you, and the thick glasses, and the braces had not made you feel any better. Of course, as if fate had wanted to play a joke on you, your skin had gotten better almost as soon as you had left school, and because you had still grown a little, your eyes had gotten better too. Usually you still wore glasses, but for the concert tonight you had been too scared to lose them between all the dancing people, so you had put in contacts instead.

Nervously you tucked at your black shirt. While sometimes you felt like your story resembled the one of the ugly duckling, you still did not feel like you had turned into a majestic swan. Next to your best friend you were still the grey, little mouse, but if you were honest, you did not want it any other way. That did not mean though that you had not made sure to feel comfy, and maybe even a little sexy tonight. The simple black shirt nicely hugged your body, and the ripped jeans perfectly contrasted your red converse. Around your neck dangled a short necklace with a little moon on it, and your hair was, while appropriate for jumping and dancing around, styled with a little hair pin with a red crystal on it.

You were so deep in thoughts, thinking back to the time in school, how your seventeen years old self would have gotten a shock if she had seen how much would change for her that you did not even notice that the band had come into the room, in which you had been waiting along with a few other fans.

Only when your friend tucked at your wrist, you snapped back into reality.

Mike was the first one to talk to you, and with a wide grin he signed your ticket, before he moved on. Nicole was next. You talked to her for a while, and were amazed by how kind she was. Just when she started searching for her phone to show you a picture of her dog, Dan walked up.

“No, no, no,” he interrupted, “you’re not gonna start showing any pictures of dogs. Once she starts,” he turned to you, “she will not stop.”

With a wide grin he wrapped his arm around Nicole’s shoulder, who smiled apologetically.

“Want us to sign something?”

Quickly you handed them your ticket for them to sign as well, and they moved on to the next fans.

That meant the only one you had not talked to yet was Brendon. Curiously you looked around the room, and found that he was just saying good bye to a group of girls. When he spotted you at the other end of the room, he looked surprised but immediately walked over.

“(y/n), is that you,” he asked with a wide grin.

“Uhm, yeah, didn’t think you’d remember me,” you smiled back slightly embarrassed.

“Man, it’s been ages!”

Before you even knew what was happening, Brendon had pulled you in for a hug, which you returned confused.

“I have to admit, I almost wouldn’t have recognized you. Where are your glasses,” he asked, taking a good look at you.

“Contacts,” you answered quickly, not trusting your voice to say anything longer.

Damn, you really were not the only one who had changed over the years. Brendon had definitely grown up too, and as stupid as it made you feel, you really had to admit that he was incredibly attractive now.

“Damn, I loved the glasses,” Brendon almost looked a bit disappointed.

“Excuse me, what?”

Not sure if you had understood him correctly, you looked at him wide eyed.

“Your glasses, they were super cute! It’s a shame you don’t wear them anymore.”

“I do, just not for concerts,” you answered, not sure how you had gone from worrying about him not recognising you, to him complaining about the lack of your glasses, “if that’s any consolation for you.”

“Oh, trust me it is,” he laughed, “listen, I think we’re running out of time here, but… I’m in the city for a while, maybe… would you like to meet up sometime? Catch up and all?”

“Sure, it’s just-“

“Oh shit, you don’t have a boyfriend do you? Or someone? Aw man, of course you do.”

Wide eyed you watched as Brendon’s expression went from excited puppy to disappointed.

“No, I don’t but-“

“You don’t?”

“No, I’m not in a relationship,” you laughed quietly, “I just didn’t think you would even know who I am.”

“Not know- not know who you are? (Y/n), I had the biggest fucking crush on you in school, seriously. Just absolutely no courage to ask you out! Don’t think that now that I do have more confidence I’m gonna let that opportunity slip through my fingers!”

“You-“

Your mind was still hung up on the part where Brendon had said that he once had a crush on you, but before you managed to stutter out a question, a man announced that the time was up, and the band needed to get ready to go on stage.

“Here-“ Brendon pulled a laminated card out of his pocked, that granted him entry to all the backstage areas. “Meet me here again after the show, I’ll tell the guys to let you in, okay?”

“Brendon, come one! Time to go!”

One of the security guards shot him an unnerved glance.

“Take this, see you later.”

Quickly he pressed the backstage pass into your hand, making sure to close your fingers around it, and gave you a quick good bye hug, but not without quickly kissing your cheek.

“Have fun,” he waved as he ran out of the room, following his band mates, leaving you standing there, completely dumbfounded, still holding the backstage pass. You could have sworn there was a dust of pink on his cheeks.

~*~*~*~

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfall @rene-royale

#brendon urie x reader #brendon urie x reader fluff #brendon urie fluff #brendon patd #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie fanfiction #Panic! at the Disco #p!atd #patd #fanfiction #fanfic

[sfthearts]

can you please do one where Brendon is drunk out of his mind and you have to take care of him and he’s so cute and sweet omg pls and thank you

Hi I didn’t proofread this and haven’t thought of a title hehe but it came out cute.

“I’m gonna go mingle, I’ll see you later?” You ask Brendon when you walk into the party. He nods and smiles, telling you he’ll see you around.

You've always liked brendon as more than a friend, but he’s never shown you any signs of feeling the same. Tonight, you had decided, you weren’t going to worry about if he liked you or not. You were going to dance and have a good time.

A cute guy walks up to you and starts chatting a little, and you’re really enjoying yourself. You learn his name is Matt, and that he’s a swim instructor for kids. He asks you to dance and you agree, enjoying his company.

Meanwhile, from across the room, Brendon is talking with one of his buddies but isn't interested in the conversation at all. Instead, he’s watching you like a hawk to make sure nothing bad happened. That’s when he saw you dancing with him. He got jealous. Very jealous. He quickly downed the drink he was sipping on, and about 3 shots of tequila.

“You know if there’s any more of this?” He asks his friend.

As the next couple of hours went on, you continued talking with Matt, and Brendon continued getting shitfaced. Finally, one of Brendon’s friends comes to find you, looking worried.

“Hey sorry to interrupt but Y/N, I don’t think Brendon is doing too hot, can you come help him? He’s asking for you.”

Your eyes widen with concern.

“Of course. Matt, I’ve had a great night but I have to go help my friend. Maybe I’ll see you again.” You tell him as you rush off in search of Brendon.

When you reach him, he has his head in the toilet bowl.

“Oh god” you sigh, walking further into the bathroom and placing a gentle hand on his back.

“Hey B, once you think you're done we’re gonna go home, okay?” You tell him softly. He only nods his head before throwing up again, and you stroke his back as he does.

Once he’s finally finished, you hand him a mint and help him stand, leading him out the back door of the house and to your car. Brendon hasn’t said a word, and you aren’t sure if it’s because there’s something on his mind, or if it’s from the alcohol.

“Hey B? Do you want to stay with me at my house or do you want me to stay with you at yours? I’m not leaving you alone like this, so those are your choices.” You ask him softly.

“Ummmmm sleepover at my house!” He slurs, suddenly regaining his bubbly personality.

You giggle and nod, heading in the direction of his place.

“Your laugh’s pretty” Brendon says with a loving smile.

You look at him quizzically for a moment before returning your eyes to the road.

He continues staring at you for most of the short drive to his house, and you pretend not to notice.

A few minutes later, you arrive at his house.

“You’re soooo pretty, Y/N. Even your hair is pretty” Brendon says as you help him out of the car.

“Uhh.. Thank you?” You reply.

“I jus thought you should know.” He says simply, and you shrug off his weird behavior.

“Ok Bren, up we go.” You tell him as you both climb the short flight of stairs to get to his front door. He pulls his keys out and fumbles with the lock for a minute before getting the door open.

You walk inside ahead of him and set your purse on the couch.

“Alright, I want you to go brush your teeth, get these clothes off and change into some comfy clothes. I’ll be in to tuck you in in a minute, ok?” You tell him. He nods obediently and stumbles to his bedroom.

You grab him a bottle of water from the kitchen and some Advil from your purse before heading to his room.

When you find him, he’s wearing sweatpants (backwards) and no shirt, and sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Close enough” you giggle, entering the room and placing the water and pills on his nightstand. You drag his trash can near the edge of the bed, incase he needs it in the night. He sits up under the covers and watches your movements intently.

“You’re really good at helping me.” He tells you as you get him set up for the night.

“You’re pretty easy to help.” You say back.

You ask if you can borrow some of his clothes to sleep in and he agrees, telling you where to find them.

You quickly change without him looking and go back to his side.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I’d be lost without you.” Brendon says sweetly, and you look up at him with soft eyes.

“Of course bub. You’d do the same for me. Why’d you get so drunk, though? The party wasn’t even that crazy yet.” You ask softly.

“I was jealous” he admits, and you detect nerves in his tone.

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” You ask gently.

“You know of what, Y/N.” He sounds almost hurt now.

“Brendon, I really don’t-”

“I was jealous because you were…” he stops and adjusts his tone. “You were hanging with that guy all night and… and I wished it was me.” He finishes quietly, looking down at the floor.

“You what?” You whisper, shocked.

“I like you a lot okay? But I could never tell you because I know you don’t like me like that and I’d fuck up everything” he says, and a big smile washes over your face. He still isn’t looking. “I guess now I’m telling you though. Nice job Brendon. Goddamn tequila.” He mutters the last bit, making you smile wider.

You grab his chin and he brings his eyes up to yours hesitantly.

“Brendon. I’ve always liked you like that.” You tell him, his jaw goes slack at the revelation.

“So… does that mean if I kissed you, you wouldn’t pull away?” He says quietly after a moment.

“I don’t know, why don’t you find out”

Within a second, his lips find yours. His hands frame your face delicately, and yours find his hair.

Eventually, you pull away for air, looking at him once more. He smiles wildly, like a kid who just found out he was going to Disney.

“You’re so pretty and so sweet and you let me kiss you” he whispers.

“I did.” You smile back. “Now, you should get some sleep. You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.” You tell him, running a hand through his hair. He nods and lays down. “I’ll be out on the couch if you need anything, we can talk about everything in the morning.”

“Wait, no, you’re not sleeping on my couch.” He says firmly. “Come here and cuddle.”

“Alright fine. Only because you’re cute.” you tell him, shuffling over to the light switch and climbing into his bed.

He opens an arm up and you slide in happily.

“Goodnight Bren.” You whisper, and he whispers it back.

#brendon urie fluff #brendon x reader #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie oneshot #brendon urie fic #brendon urie fanfic

[thepatricktreestump]

Fuck Me: Brendon Urie imagine

A/N: sorry this took me a while to get out to you guys, hope you enjoy it! 

this is part 2 of the touch me brendon urie massage therapist au fic i had written previously which you can find here 

               The thoughts in your brain seemed to be cycling at a thousand ideas an instant, you shyly eyeing the man sitting beside you in the back of the taxi cab, holding your hand gently. This was definitely a spur of the moment type of ordeal, a sort of strange encounter you would have never predicted to take place, but you loved it just the same. There was something refreshing in the comfort of a stranger. Especially in such a new place. The entire ride you had listened to him mumble on about what life was like in the city and some of his favorite places in town. When you had rolled up to his apartment he carefully led you in by the hand, smiling softly.

               “Would you like something to drink? Beer? Wine? Water?” he hung his jacket on the coatrack and turned back to you, pausing for a second. “…god.”

               “What?” you stared, confused. “Uh- do I have something on my face or?”

               “Huh?” he tilted his head to the side. “Oh, no, no, no sorry I just…” He gave a nervous laugh and ran his hand through his hair, looking off to the side before reattaching his gaze to yours. “You’re just really beautiful.”

               “Oh,” you blushed, flattered. “Thanks.”

               “Um, drink?” he slowly traveled back to his original question.

               “Of course,” you smiled. “A glass of wine if you don’t mind?”

               “On it,” he nodded with a wink, heading off towards the kitchen while you took it upon yourself to get cozy on the sofa.

               While he was busy pouring you a glass you took the time to gaze around the room, eyes wandering along the vinyls on the wall towards the photographs, a bass hanging up by a window, a staircase leading up to a hallway, leather sofas and a television on the wall along with a game station and several remote controls, a bookcase full of movies, and a record player atop the first shelf. “Have a favorite artist?” he hums and you look up, startled, laughing with relief and grabbing the wine from his hand.

               “Uh, kind of in the mood for some Stevie Nicks,” you shrug. “If you like her.”

               “Love her,” he smiles, searching through a couple albums before he pulled one out and placed the needle upon the record, letting it spin slowly and then going over to sit over by you. “Tell me more about yourself.”

               “Me?” you seemed surprised. “Alright.”

               There’s some people in the world that feel as though you’ve known your entire life. Although you’ve only met but an instant, it feels as though you could pour out your entire life to them, share your favorite things and your most dreaded fears, your happiest triumphs and your saddest tragedies, all of your dreams and hopes and desires as well as your insecurities and flaws and troubles. It’s a strange sort of feeling, opening up to a complete stranger- but it’s freeing. Almost comforting. And to be able to talk to Brendon, watch as his brow furrowed or his eyes widened, his lips curled up in a smile or he tilted his head back as he laughed, it was like watching magic unfold in front of your eyes. You were surprised he even cared to ask, much less listen. His facial expressions were mesmerizing, and his face even more so.

               When you had asked for him to tell you a little bit more about himself, you slowly found yourself curling into him. It began with him talking about some of his hobbies and his favorite kinds of music, and you somehow ended up with your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist, and then you leaning atop him, and then finally both of you leaning into each other as he spoke about his family and moving out on his own, him laying on the sofa with you atop him, your head in the crook of his neck and his hands sliding up underneath your shirt and softly brushing his fingers up and down your back. You didn’t know how it happened, it just sort of did, and before you knew it, you were there. You weren’t complaining though. He was so warm and comfortable and sweet and he smelled like bourbon and cologne.

               “Hey,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost surprised. “Won’t you look at that?”

               “Hmm?” you lifted your head up, staring into his dazzling eyes, cheeks rosy with a light blush.

               “You seem to have found your way into my arms again,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, laughing subconsciously.

               “My bad,” you sighed, slowly starting to untangle yourself from him, but to your delight, he tugged you right back down onto his chest, making you giggle. “Brendon! Agh!” You felt your cheeks redden even more as your face came into contact with his chest.

               “Where do you think you’re going?” he teased, hugging you tight, pressing his lips to your ear and then lowering his voice into a whisper. “You’re all mine.”

               “Yeah?” you hummed, raising your head and staring at him, leaning in close, pressing your forehead against his, noses touching, lips so close but not close enough for a kiss. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, Urie.”

               “You haven’t either,” he challenged.

               “Why don’t we do something about that, then?” you inquired.

               His lips pressed into yours and you felt like you just might melt. Usually you would never kiss a guy on the first date, much less a stranger- but this… This was everything. Everything you could ever want and more.

               His hands started gravitating down below the waistband of your jeans and you squeaked, startled, and he stopped, recoiling immediately. “I’m sorry,” he instantly apologized, but you shook your head, flustered.

               “No, sorry, sorry-” you chuckled, face red. “Just… just startled me, that’s all.”

               “Oh,” he cautiously returned his hands to the small of your back, pressing gently and lightly. “I’m okay?”

               “Y-yeah, yeah,” you reassured. “C-can we-”

               Before you could even get the question out it was as if he had already read your mind, pressing his lips softly towards yours, being sure to take things much slower. He began once again, but you were nervous and flustered, and you subconsciously tensed up, making him stop. “You okay?” he asked softly.

               “Y-yeah,” you stuttered. “Sorry, I’m just-”

               “You’re okay,” he soothed, pressing his hand against the small of your back. “You’re okay. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

               “No I want to do this,” you reassured, a bit too quickly for your liking, and you blushed. “I mean, I’m not opposed, well I mean, like, I want to, really I do, I just-”

               “You’re okay,” he chuckled, smiling softly. “Really.”

               “I don’t know, just a bit frazzled that’s all,” you admitted.

               “It’s cute,” he beamed. “It’s alright, we can take it slow.”

               “I just, well…” your voice trailed off, you becoming even more shy. “I just uh, I’ve never really done anything like this before.”

               “Like one night stands or the whole stranger thing or?” Brendon raised an eyebrow and you felt yourself shrink even smaller.

               “Sex,” you shrugged, anxious for his response.

               “Oh,” he raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised. “Well, that’s okay too.”

               “Really?” you murmured, a tad scared.

               “Of course,” he insisted. “You’re alright, y/n, really.”

               “Thanks,” your cheeks reddened, still embarrassed. There was a moment of silence before you corrected yourself. “Sex with a guy, I mean.”

               “Oh?” Brendon’s eyebrows raised once again, surprised.

               “Uh, I’m not lesbian or a virgin or anything like that, I just uh…” your voice trailed off, making you feel like even more of a dork. “I’m pan, you know? I don’t know, maybe you don’t know, it just means-”

               “You like people,” he finished for you with a smile. “I know, I uh, I’m pan too. I get how it works.”

               “Oh,” you nodded, putting on a nervous smile. “Well that’s good to know.”

               “You’ve just never had dick before,” he rolls his eyes and you stiffen, taken aback at his boldness.

               “Uh yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, that.”

               “It’s okay,” he insisted once again. “Honest, like I said, I’m not pushing anything on you.”

               “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I’m just… really bad at this whole, socialization thing. Stranger thing. Being stranded in a foreign place thing.”

               “I get it,” he chuckled, softly brushing his thumb against your skin, arm still wrapped around you, hand on the small of your back. “You don’t need to apologize, I think it’s quite cute actually.”

               “Thanks,” you blushed. “Uh, do you care to pick up where we last left off maybe?”

               “Conversation wise or?” he raised an eyebrow.

               “I was hoping a little more of this,” you suggested, pressing your lips to his, much more confident this time, melting into his touch. He hummed against you in agreement, running his hands down your back, tongue exploring your mouth. You surprisingly found yourself tugging at the waistband of his pants this time, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away.

               “I thought we were going slow,” he raised his eyebrows and you blushed.

               “I apologize, I’m a bit eager,” you confessed, making his lips curl up into simper.

               “Lay down baby,” he whispered into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, if that’s alright.”

               You hummed in agreement, tilting your head in a slight nod and sprawled yourself along the couch, him sitting up on the last cushion as you stretched your arms and legs, smiling at him coyly through lidded eyes. “Like what you see?” you flirted.

               “Very much so,” he responded. “If you would be so kind as to take your shirt off for me, I’d appreciate that even more, darling.”

               Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname and you instantly did as told, sliding the fabric of your blouse over your torso and eyes widening in surprise as you noticed him doing the same. You slipped off the shirt from your arms and tossed it to the floor, both of you staring at each other, analyzing and pressing lips together in awe and curiosity. “Gorgeous,” you found yourselves breathing, and you both chuckled and looked away in embarrassment of the same thought.

               “No really,” you shook your head, letting the initial humor wear off. “You’re gorgeous.”

               “You could say the same about yourself,” he quipped, reaching a hand out to drag down from your ribcage to your waist. It made you shiver. His touch was delicate, gentle, and soft. He hummed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, then reopened them, looking at you. “This must be a dream.”

               “Don’t flatter me too much,” you teased. “I might not want to leave tomorrow.”

               “I don’t have a problem with that,” he grinned, positioning his hips between your legs to kiss you, then pressing his lips down your neck as he undid the clasp of your bra and slid it off of you, an effortless motion that made you gasp. He rolled his tongue over patches of your skin, softly sliding up and down, then trailed towards your breasts, nipping slightly to make you tug at his hair, to which he let out a soft moan, making you melt. “Fuck, darling, do that again and I think I might just die.”

               “Oh, wouldn’t want to do that,” you sighed. “Still planning on having a little fun with you.”

               “Yeah?” he rolled his lower lip between his teeth, before peppering kisses down your stomach, then looking up at you from your waist. “May I?”

               “If you really want to,” you shyly looked away, a bit self-conscious. “I mean… I’m definitely not objecting to it.”

               “Neither am I, y/n,” he lightly pressed a kiss to your stomach before getting to work and slipping you out of your pants. He was quite meticulous in putting a painstakingly long amount of time teasing into it, dragging the fabric down your legs as if unwrapping a fragile present, making you whine. “Patience, baby. Patience.”

               “Brendon,” you whimpered, him exhaling warm breaths on the insides of your thighs. He pressed a soft warm kiss onto your core through the fabric of your panties and you let out a breathy sigh, causing his lips to curl up into a smile.

               “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties and tugs them down towards your ankles, then untangles them off, placing them on the coffee table by the sofa.

               The record found itself skidding to a halt as if on perfect timing, and silence slowly seeped into the room, but not for long. The moment his tongue came in contact with the skin between your legs, you curled my head back and let out a low moan, fingers tangling themselves in his hair, tugging softly. “God that feels- fuck, that feels so good, fuck Brendon,” you praised him as his tongue worked miracles on your body, tracing the outsides of your pussy before delving in, running up and down, circling around your clit, pressing against the opening. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

               You had never cursed so much in your life. You had also never felt such a comparable sensation in all the days of your existence. It was quite overwhelming. You cried out as your orgasm overtook you, ecstasy flowing through your body at an ungodly speed, Brendon’s tongue rolling over your wetness. Your body was trembling as he slowly rescinded, lifting his head up to look at you, your hands cupping his cheeks. “You taste so sweet baby,” he hums with a smile. “Hope that made you feel good.”

               “You make me feel indescribable sorts of things,” you panted, smiling back at him, sweat collecting at your forehead, uneven breathing, heart racing. “Fuck, I kinda…” you bit down on your lip, staring at him with innocent eyes. “I kinda want more.”

               “I thought we were taking things slow,” he draws out the last word with a deep and gravely voice, climbing atop you, making your insides melt. “Sloooow…”

               “Then let’s take it slow,” you offered, gliding a hand down his stomach to the little patch of hair above his crotch. “May I?”

               “Christ darling, whatever you want,” he moaned as you slipped your fingers underneath the waistband of his pants, you palming his cock through his boxers. He was warm and hard and you wanted him so badly inside of you.

               “Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “I’m so desperate and needy for you, Brendon.”

               “As I am for you, beautiful,” he presses a kiss to your lips as you work on shedding his clothes, watching as he kicks them off his legs and onto the floor, then bucking his hips up towards your hand once again. You take the hint and jerk him off, brushing your thumb over the head and feeling the precum stick to your fingers. He felt so fucking good. You could barely even begin to wrap your mind around how good he would feel rocking that gorgeous cock inside of you.

               “Please,” you whimpered, and you didn’t have to ask twice.

               He pressed against your folds, gathering your wetness at his tip and glancing up at you, nodding for approval before pushing in, making your back arch and your eyes roll to the back of your head, it felt so heavenly. “Just tell me when you’re ready,” he mumbled in your ear, rocking back and forth slowly, trying to get you used to his size, stretching you out carefully. “I’m sorry if it hurts, I should’ve fingered you first but I was just-”

               “Impatient?” you chuckled slightly between breathy sighs, raising an eyebrow, looking at him. “Yeah, me too.”

               “You feel so tight, baby,” he kissed your forehead, humming softly. “Feel so fucking good.”

               “Want to make you feel even better,” you smirked, rolling your hips up to meet his, gaining some momentum. “Fuck me, Brendon. Fuck me like I’m yours.”

               “You are,” he insisted, thrusting into you, making you moan. “I mean, if you want to be.”

               “I’d love to be,” you grinned, hooking your legs around his waist as he began to go faster, moving his cock in and out, making your head spin at the pleasure.

               His hands were on your hips and yours were on his back, both of you kissing passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth and your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, him rocking in and out of you, grabbing your ass and moving his lips to your neck, biting and nipping and sucking and licking. Both of you were cursing and he buried his head into your shoulder as he pounded into you, your arms now linked around his neck and holding onto him for dear life, both of your climaxes creeping in so close. “I’m going to cum baby, you gotta- fuck, you gotta-” he tried to get the words out but failed, too wrapped up in his own ecstasy.

               “I’ve gotta what?” you whined, still bucking your hips up to meet each of his thrusts.

               “Unhook, god, unhook your legs,” he panted. “Shit, baby you’ve gotta, I’m going to cum deep inside you if you don’t-”

               “Shit Brendon,” you moaned, cumming just at the thought his words had brought into your mind, unable to think or move as your euphoria overtook you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I want that so bad, fuck, please Brendon-”

               “Baby…” he warned but you held onto him tight, rocking your hips faster until he came as well, the warm substance flowing within you, filling you up, making you cry out his name. He was letting out a string of moans and curses, both of you clinging onto each other, sweaty and desperate.

               “Fuck,” you unhooked your legs and let them down at your sides, letting him pull out, his semen dripping from your pussy, his body laying atop of yours, both of you gasping for breath.

               “That felt fucking amazing,” he could barely get out, arms still wrapped around you, chest heaving up and down with each attempt for air. “Fuck, darling. What time does your flight leave tomorrow morning?”

               “Fuck my flight,” you narrowed your eyes, staring at him. “Just wanna fuck you.”

               “We can make that happen,” he smiled lazily, running a hand through your hair, kissing your lips, then pulling away. “Might want to get some sleep though. I don’t know about you but that wore me out.”

               “Little bit,” you admitted, curling up into his arms, sighing. “God, that felt, that felt incredible. I’d never-” You couldn’t even seem to form words. “Wow.”

               “Are you okay?” he pressed his lips together thoughtfully, worried look of concern spread across his face. “Was I uh, was I too much and are you-”

               “You’re alright,” you nodded. “We’re okay, Brendon. Thank you.”

               “Okay,” he let out a sigh of relief, leaning back, nodding. “Thank you.”

               “I really ought to have more cancelled flights if this is how it ends,” you laughed to yourself, pecking him on the cheek.

               “Only if you’re near me,” he reminded. “Then you can delay your travels all you want.”

               “Nah,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I actually might take a break from all the travel.”

               “Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, curious. “Don’t you need to get home?”

               “Yeah,” you repeated. “I think I’ve found my home right here.”

               His lips curled up into a smile, holding your face in his palm gently, beaming at you. “What’s mine is yours,” he offered. “And well, if you’re mine, then I’m yours.”

               “Don’t you think we might be moving a little too quick?” you giggled, staring up at him.

               “Nah,” he shook his head, still smiling. “Remember? We’re taking it slow.”

               “Right…” you drew out, curling up next to him. “Cause fucking on the first day we’ve met each other is slow.”

               “Smart ass,” he rolled his eyes.

               “Jack ass,” you fired back.

               “You know,” he laughed. “I think we’re going to get along quite well.”

               “I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing,” you perused as you placed yet another kiss to his lips. “But hey, fuck me, I think we are too.”

#brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagines #brendon urie fanfic #brendon urie fluff #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie x reader fanfiction #brendon urie x reader smut #brendon urie x reader imagines #brendon urie x reader fanfic #brendon urie x reader fluff #brendon urie couch sex #brendon urie x reader couch sex

[homemade-aesthetic]

I don’t really write or read fanfic anymore but

Stranded on an island (like Blue Lagoon) AU should be a popular trope

#fanfic #fandom #panic! at the disco #ryan ross #brendon urie #harry/draco #harry potter #draco x reader #drarry #drarry smut #dallon weekes #louis de pointe du lac #dumbledore #doctor who #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #lgbtq #lestat #lgbt #fantastic beats and where to find them #the vampire armand #the vampire diaries #interview with the vampire #grindelwald #grindeldore #crimes of grindelwald

[maddiethedaddiee]

Superman

Sad reader x Brendon urie

Warnings: depressive thoughts, fluff, so short that it should be a crime to post, mature language, drinking, bad writing ;'(

The days had seemed to slip past me, going by in a monotonous manner. As the days got shorter and the nights got longer, my heart and mind grew heavier each day, dragging me behind them. I had no motivation. No hope. No love. I softly stepped through my lonely home trying to clear my mind of negative thoughts. The same thoughts that told me I was nothing. The thoughts that told me I was useless. I cried out in exhaustion, wanting to rid my mind of these thoughts that kept me up at night until the early morning. I wanted to feel anything besides the sadness that seemed to drown my mind and heart from day to day. But then, he walked into my life like a fucking wave of bliss. His life crashed into mine after we met at some shitty bar I went to, hoping to drown my sorrows in cheap shitty vodka. All it took was one pick-up line and a free shitty brand of alcohol and Brendon crashed into my life like a wrecking ball, becoming the new topic of my thoughts. We shared kisses, hugs, laughs, wedding dates, and soon a home. Brendon fucking Urie came into my life like it was his own. And, he saved me without even knowing. I was soon walking around our shared home only thinking about how I wanted to wake up beside this man every day. "You're so much and more Y/N." "You make my life worth living, baby." Were the random reassurances I would get from Brendon through sloppy, rough kisses in our bed.

First fic on tumblr :') constructive criticism is welcome.

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#brendon urie x reader #x reader #panic! at the disco #brendon urie #brendon x reader #imagine #fanfic

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Cape Town. (Chapter 6.4) (R. Ross x Reader)

Kirstenbosch Gardens was huge. So huge, in fact, that it would take a full three days to properly explore on foot. If someone like Ryan who didn't know their way around at all had to wonder off alone, the chances of locating them were pretty slim.

That being said, you found him within ten minutes.

He was sitting on a bench under a towering oak tree, gazing out across the rolling fields of flowers. You slowed down your stride as you approached him, not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a personal moment.

Hanging behind the tree, you rested one hand on the trunk and looked over at him. His gaze wondered up at the mountains, and he took in the sights for a moment before closing his eyes and exhaling.

Watching him closely, you noticed his lips move gently, as if he were silently sounding out some unintelligible words. At first, you thought he might've been saying a prayer, but then he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny, worn-out notebook.

Pulling off the pen that had been hooked over the book's front cover, he opened to a clean page and began jotting down words and phrases. Your lips parted as realisation dawned on you. He was writing song lyrics.

Now you really felt like you were intruding. You knew how personal the songwriting process was – especially to Ryan – and being in his presence while he was immersed in it (without him knowing you were there, nonetheless) felt like a major invasion of privacy.

Deciding it was best to leave him alone for a couple more minutes, you lifted your hand from the tree and started taking backward steps. You didn't get more than two in before the guitarist's head turned and he saw you.

"Hey," he smiled lazily.

Embarrassed that you'd been caught in the act, you stammered a response. "Uh, h-hey." You closed your eyes and waved a hand around. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up. I saw that you were busy and I didn't wanna bother you."

Shifting up on the bench, he patted the empty space in an invitation for you to join him. "You'd never be a bother to me."

Readjusting your hair to hide your flushed cheeks, you walked around the bench to join him. There was silence for a little while. Not the uncomfortable kind, but more the kind that arose between two people who enjoyed each other's company so much that no conversation was even necessary.

Ryan was the one who eventually banished the quiet. "It's so beautiful out here. You're so lucky to have this right in your backyard."

"I love coming here," you sighed, resting your elbow on the back of the bench and letting your head rest in your palm, "Don't get to do it as much as I'd like, though."

"'Cause of your studies?"

"That, and I'd be completely bankrupt if I came here all the time," you laughed.

He shook his head and let out a sigh, then mimicked your pose. "It's criminal that they charge you for entry."

"Eh." With a shrug, you looked around at the natural beauty. "It's to make sure that all of this is preserved, so it makes sense, I guess. Can't be mad about it."

"True."

Noticing the notebook was still clutched in his hand, you nodded toward it. "Did you get some decent material?"

After you asked your question, Ryan's face faltered for a moment, and you mentally kicked yourself when you realised how incredibly prysome you must've sounded.

Immediately, you backtracked. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."

"No, no," he chuckled softly, holding up one hand, "It's alright, really. And yeah... so far this trip has been very... inspiring."

He locked his gaze with yours and there was something about the way he was looking at you that made it impossible for you to look away, no matter how red your face was getting. Eventually, when it started to approach the point of being creepy, you broke eye contact and readjusted yourself on the bench.

"So, this whole 'rockstar' thing..." you started, "is it your endgame? Do you still wanna be up on stage when you're 60?"

"Are you kidding?" he smiled widely, perking up and laying his arm across the backrest of the bench, "That's when the fun begins."

Playing along, you furrowed your brows and nodded feverently. "Oh, of course."

The two of you shared a laugh, then Ryan continued talking. "Well, I don't think I can be referred to as a rockstar, by definition. But if you mean do I wanna do music until I'm old and grey, then yeah. Yeah, absolutely. Music's always been my escape. My best friend. It's my-"

"Your first love?"

He looked at you and you saw a twinkle in his eye. "Exactly."

Nodding fondly, you smiled lazily. "I know what you mean."

"You feel that way about... tourism?"

There was an amused, almost confused expression on the musician's face, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"No, definitely not," you chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "No, my first love was – is – writing."

That answer seemed to pique Ryan's interest, as shown by the way he unconciously leaned in closer. "Writing?"

"Yeah. In fact, I had a notebook similar to that one," you pointed at the notebook in his lap, "and I used to write any chance I got. Stories, poems, random nonsense... I just dumped all the thoughts in my head out onto paper."

"Used to?" he questioned your use of words, "You mean you don't do it anymore?"

"Not as much as I'd like to. You know how life is – I got so caught up in studying and work that I ended up neglecting my hobbies."

"How come you didn't pursue it? Study English at uni instead of what you're doing now?"

Blowing a raspberry, you widened your eyes and drew your knees to your chest. "Writing is not really a lucrative career here. At least with tourism, I'd pretty much be guaranteed a steady income. And," you shrugged, giving a small smile, "there are some really great upsides to it... like meeting groups of attractive American band members."

Shocked by your sudden bout of confidence, Ryan arched his brows and gave a small wheeze.

"(Y/L/N), you flirt."

Copying his reaction from a moment ago, you arched your brows and wheezed. "You're one to talk, Ross."

Pursing his lips to fight back a smile, the musician held up his hands and relented. "Fair enough."

"Come on." You cocked your head in the direction of the pathway and stood up from the bench. "We better get back before they send out a search party."

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. "Orrrrr...." he gave you a mischeivous look, "We could go on an adventure?"

✧✧✧

15 minutes into the 'adventure'.

"Watch out!"

"AHHHH!"

Ryan had greatly miscalculated the distance between the third and fourth stepping stones in the rippling stream the two of you were crossing, and ended up with one foot fully submerged in the water as a result.

"Oh noooo," you laughed, not even attempting to hide your amusement at the horrified look on your counterpart's face as he slowly lifted his foot from the running stream.

Snapping his head in your direction, he shot you a glare. "I'm glad you think this is so funny. Ugh," he scrunched his face up in disgust as he inspected the mud sticking to his boot, "This is terrible."

"I guess you could say... there was a terrible splash."

Your joke hung in the air, accompanied by the sounds of the surrounding nature, as you and Ryan stared at each other. A moment later, he spoke up.

"That was awful."

"It was hilarious."

"I think you should stick to being a tour guide, angel. Comedy is clearly not your strong suit."

Pretending you didn't notice the affectionate nickname and fighting to suppress the blush threatening to spread over your cheeks, you stuck your tongue out at him and proceeded to skip across the remaining stones.

Sucking it up, Ryan gave one last sigh and followed your lead, a squelchsounding through the air each time his wet shoe met a stone.

✧✧✧

25 minutes into the 'adventure'.

With a gasp, you pointed at a beautiful natural water feature ahead of you, tucked away in a corner surrounded by rocks and vibrant green leaves. "Look!"

"Oh wow," Ryan matched your enthusium, "That's gorgeous."

"We have to get a picture there."

Taking note of the water flowing from above and the puddles it was forming on the sandy ground, Ryan shifted his weight from one leg to another. He had no desire to have yet another unfortunate water accident today. "Uhhh... we're pretty much guaranteed to get soaked if we stand over there."

"So? It's an adventure," you reminded him, giving his hair a light ruffle before dashing off.

Taking strategic steps to ensure that you weren't directly underneath the water falling from above, you steadied yourself by gripping the surrounding rocks. Now in the middle of the natural feature, you were able to appreciate its beauty in all its glory, and it was spectacular.

Any reluctance Ryan had had instantly dissipated the moment he saw you standing there, smiling that beautiful smile of yours and looking unapologetically happy.

It made him unapologetically fixated.

Realising that he still hadn't joined you, you looked to him and beckoned him over. He obliged without hestitation, not even bothering to dodge the water as he stepped into the space next to you.

The two of you marvelled at the beauty together for a few minutes, snapping a couple of pictures in the process. You had just finished taking a shot of a single flower growing in the secluded spot and were tucking the camera away when you felt his fingers graze your cheek.

His fingertips were rough – undoubtedly from all the guitar playing – and the contrast of that against your soft skin sent a shiver down your spine. Lifting your head, you locked eye contact with him and before you knew it, you were leaning in.

And he was leaning in too.

But then...

"GOTCHA!"

✧✧✧

That evening.

"When. Will. You. Stop. Ruining. My. Life?!" you yelled at (Y/B/F), accentuating each word with a smack of a throw pillow to her head.

"Hey!" Trying and failing to dodge your blows, she scrambled from the couch to the opposite end of the room and held out a hand to stop you. "I was just looking out for you!"

"'Looking out for me', my ass!" You hurtled the pillow at her. It hit her square in the face. "Why can't you let me just get some?!"

"I would gladly let you get some if the 'some' you were getting was not from some foreign musician who's gonna leave you alone in a few weeks!"

"I-"

Stopping your reply when you realised that you had no point to argue with, you chose instead to simply groan loudly, then storm off to your bedroom.

Puffing out her cheeks, (Y/B/F) shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "She'll thank me eventually."

✧✧✧

Later that evening.

Approaching Ryan's room, Brendon exhaled heavily, mentally preparing to get into yet another argument about how he and (Y/B/F) wouldn't stop interferring with Ryan's attempts to get closer to you.

When he got to the door, however, he noticed his friend sitting on the edge of the bed, adoringly staring at a picture on his phone. Squinting, Brendon was able to make out that the picture Ryan was looking at was a picture of you – a candid shot where you were smelling a bunch of blooming flowers.

Hanging back, Brendon allowed his friend some more time. When he eventually spoke, he leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms.

"You're really falling for her, huh?"

Now aware of the presence of his bandmate, Ryan looked up from his phone. Noticing the serious expression on Brendon's face, Ryan realised that for the first time in this situation, he could talk about it without fear of negative pushback.

"Yup."

With an arch of a brow and a shake of his head, Brendon stepped into the room. "You know that there is no scenario in which neither of you end up getting hurt, right?" he sighed.

"Yup."

"So... what are you gonna do?"

Ryan looked down at the picture of you for a moment, and then back up at Brendon.

"I have no fucking idea."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

#ryan ross #ryan ross x reader #Brendon urie #spencer smith #Jon walker #patd #p!atd #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #cape town #emo #music #bands #emo trinity #emo quartet #emo imagines #imagines #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #band members #band member imagines #celebs #celebrity #the young veins