#brendon urie x reader fanfiction

[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

[misguidedswagger]

trust: chapter 2

w/c: 3.4k

trust masterlist 

entire masterlist 

Y/n said nothing as her older brother and his friends continued to buzz about their very new signing. She hummed to herself as she placed the cake in the oven before cleaning up the kitchen, washing the dirty dishes, utensils, and then drying them. Y/n pursed her lips before she turned to face her brother once again, 

“Bren?” She asked softly, resting her hips on the counter as she crossed her arms. Her brother lifted his head and quirked a brow towards her, still looking at Spencer as they conversed about some of the songs they would possibly be changing up for their new sound, like Time To Dance, Camisado, and Nails For Breakfast. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Brendon teased his baby sister. With a huff and roll of her eyes, Y/n pushed herself off the counter by her hips, making herself busy. “Was gonna ask if you needed your laundry done. But after the nickname, fuck you, do it yourself.” 

Spencer snorted at her comment, “Damn, kiss your mother with that mouth?” Another eye roll later, Y/n sent an annoyed middle finger to Spencer, checking the timer she’d set on the oven. “I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes, losers.” The girl spoke before running upstairs to her room, grabbing her laundry and throwing it into the machine. 

Ryan’s gaze trailed after her slowly and rested on the stairwell straight ahead of him. He cleared his throat before walking to his friends sitting at the kitchen’s bar. Ryan opened his mouth to contribute to the conversation before Brendon interrupted him. “I think we need to celebrate our tremendous feat. Whaddaya guys say, huh? What if we throw a mega banger in celebration of our signing?” Brendon wiggled both of his elbows into both Spencer and Ryan, causing the two to laugh softly. 

“Here?” Jon asked, a brow raised. Brendon spun around in his chair and nodded before leaning back and crossing his arms. “Hell yeah, here! This is where the magic happened, baby! Obviously it’s gotta be here!” 

A set of hands and a chin found their home on Ryan’s shoulders. He looked at the girl who was suddenly back downstairs among him, her brother, and their friends, “What’s gotta be here?” Y/n queried, once again completely oblivious to the fact that she was making Ryan’s heart race a mile a minute. Ryan would usually focus on the words leaving the girl’s mouth, but right now, he had to focus on calming himself down so Y/n wouldn’t hear or feel his speedy heartbeat, or notice his sudden loss of breath. 

Spencer spoke up now, his arms crossed over his chest as he spun to face the younger Urie, “Your big brother wants to throw a celebratory signing party. You down?” He smirked at her before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a soda from the second rack. 

With a small hum in thought, she asked softly, “I’m invited?” Ryan spoke before he even realized he did, 

“Yes!” He shouted, before shrinking down in embarrassment, a tinge of red fanning over his cheeks. He held his face in his hands, muttering apologies. “I’m sorry—Just…” He didn’t even need to look up to know his friends were staring at him intently, and Jon was giving him a stern, almost motherly, look. Clearing his throat, the guitarist continued, “Just surprised at the fact that you’d think you weren’t invited after everything you’ve done for us. You proofread our-“ 

Y/n interrupted now, “Your.” She whispered, standing up straight as she offered a reassuring shoulder squeeze. “My lyrics.” He corrected sheepishly,

 “You made food for us when we had long sessions, made us hot chocolate, coffee.. God, you’ve always supported us, you’ve always been our number one fan…” Ryan trailed off, having to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself and started going on about his love  and overall adoration for her. 

Y/n had a hand over her heart and opened her mouth to speak before Spencer spoke up again, “And not to mention, you always made sure we got rest of some sort, whether it be small breaks, actual sleep itself, or you just talking to us to bounce ideas off of.” He took another sip of his soda before going back over to Jon and Brendon. 

Jon spoke up now, “Ya always made sure we were hydrated too, ran to the store for us when we needed paper, pens, or other bullshit like that. Food, etcetera, etcetera.  You’ve been a great help, kid. Ya need to hold yourself to a higher standard.”

Isn’t that right? Ryan thought to himself, nodding in agreement with Jon, subtly looking towards him. Before Y/n could thank the boys, her brother walked to her side and threw his arm around her shoulders, giving her a noogie as he gave his thanks to her, 

“What would I have done without my little sis always making me food, doing my laundry, and my chores so I could be with the guys? You’re the best, Y/n. We really love you, and of course we want–no, need you at this party! Couldn’t have gotten this far without you!” With a large smile, the youngest in the room nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll start getting the house ready-” She gave her brother a quick squeeze before slithering out of his grip to start preparing for the party. Ryan stopped her though and grabbed her hand, causing Y/n to turn towards his voice, “Woah, woah. We are gonna get the house ready together.” 

Unbeknownst to Ryan, Spencer grew wary of his bandmate’s hands on the frontman’s little sister. Jon, completely oblivious to Spencer’s glare, nudged him, “Older Urie’s gonna send out invites and all that shit, but me ‘n Spence’ll help out, don’t worry.” Jon smiled, walking towards Y/n and Ryan. The girl grinned and gave Ryan’s hand a quick squeeze before moving forward to hug the others. Ryan hadn’t realized how long his hands had lingered on Y/n until she was out of his grip, she just felt so much like home. It was scary. 

As Y/n flew into Spencer and Jon’s hugs, she hadn’t noticed the very obviously fake smile on Spencer’s face. No one had the opportunity to before an annoying ringing sound echoed through the kitchen. Y/n pulled away and clapped her hands excitedly, 

“Yay! Cake!” 

~

Y/n was in her room getting ready for the party as she heard new voices under the blaring music entering her house. She looked in the mirror, brushing invisible specks of dirt off of herself, smoothing her outfit down as much as she could. With a frustrated sigh, she held her face in her hands. 

“You look beautiful. What’s stressing you out?” A voice asked her from the doorway, causing her face to shoot up out of her hands. She stayed staring at herself in the mirror, staring at him through the mirror. He kicked himself off the door frame as she spoke. 

 “I don’t know, I guess this party just feels different because of the event it's celebrating.” Ryan walked up behind her and let his hands rest in his pockets as he looked her in the eyes through the mirror, “Hey, you’ve got nothing to stress over.” Tentatively, he placed his hands on her shoulders, flicking his eyes back to hers, silently asking if he could continue. With a silent nod from Y/n, Ryan began to rub her shoulders, much to Y/n’s pleasure. 

“If anything, it should be us stressing, it’s our signing party.” The elder reassured, causing a smile to finally find its home on the girl’s face. She smiled brightly at Ryan and turned around and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.” She said softly and sweetly. Ryan smiled and let his chin rest on her shoulder as he embraced every inch of her hug. His hands found solitude on her waist as he pulled her in tighter. 

“For the record, Ross, you look very handsome yourself, and you give incredible hugs.” Y/n complimented, letting go of the hug when she heard one of her favorite songs playing downstairs. She grabbed Ryan’s hand and dragged him down the stairs with her before forcing him to dance with her. 

Ryan laughed and Y/n spun messily to the song playing, but when she grabbed his hand, he let his body take over. He gave her a proper spin, causing her to giggle, a sound Ryan swore he could never get over. Y/n rested her hand in Ryan’s, her other on his shoulder. She stopped laughing as much and only smiled, maintaining eye contact with Ryan the entire time, and he did the same.

When the song ended, Y/n smiled wider and stepped back, “Thank you for going along with that. That was really fun! Want a drink?” She pointed towards the drink table, and Ryan nodded. “You continue dancing, Urie, I’ll grab the drinks.” He grinned at her, causing her to cheer and nod, already dancing to the next song. 

With a small laugh, Ryan walked over to where Y/n had previously pointed, grabbing two red solo cups. He was in the process of pouring their drinks when he felt an elbow in his side. Ryan snapped his eyes up to the culprit, not surprised to see Jon connected to the elbow that’d nudged him. “I saw you two lovebirds. Finally spill the secret?” Jon teased, causing Ryan to turn his face away from his friend’s burning stare, in an attempt to hide his blush. “Holy shit! You still haven’t told her!” Jon basically yelled, causing Ryan to shove his shoulder, 

“Dude, shut it!” He pleaded, quickly glancing around to make sure no one else had heard their conversation. Jon laughed heartily before shaking his head, “Man, you gotta tell her! Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, which won’t happen, it definitely will go somewhere, she has a right to know!” Jon said seriously, offering an encouraging smile. He placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and rubbed it, “Trust me, Ryan. It’s better to be rejected than to regret not saying something.” 

Jon and Ryan’s conversation was interrupted as another person walked up, “Hey, guys! Crazy turn out, huh? Told ya I’m a god at invites!” Brendon placed a hand on both of their shoulders and smiled, “What were you two talking about?” Ryan tried not to show his panic when Brendon asked that, and before Ryan could stutter through an excuse, Jon bit the bullet and saved Ryan’s skin. 

“Was asking Ryan for some advice about the girl over there.” Jon gestured lazily to a group of girls in another room, taking a sip. “Wanna walk over with me Bren? Ryan’s too nervous to just walk over with me and I need backup.” Jon offered, looking at Brendon hopefully. 

Brendon blew a raspberry at Ryan and held an “L” on his forehead to him, “Of course I’ll go with you Jon, I’m not a pussy.” He laughed before clapping Ryan on the back, “Kidding, I get it. Enjoy the party man, I know Jon certainly will.” He smiled. 

As the two walked away, Jon turned his head and winked at Ryan before turning back around quickly. Ryan smiled a tight smile and nodded at Jon before turning to walk back with his and Y/n’s drinks. However, as he turned to walk back in her direction, he collided with another body, startling him. He turned back around to see he’d bumped into the girl he’d been on the way back to. With a laugh, she took a cup from Ryan, “What took ya so long?” 

Ryan gestured to the room that Jon and Brendon were currently in, “Oh, ya know, your brother.” He chuckled softly, taking a sip of his drink. She laughed softly and nodded, “Yeah, he can be quite the handful sometimes. I’d know.” The two of them laughed together before walking over to another corner of the room to get out of the way of the people dancing in the middle of the living room. 

Ryan leaned against the wall, drink in hand, free hand either in his pocket or gesturing with his sentences, as Y/n was standing, slowly sipping her drink, more listening than talking. Their conversation was going pretty well when all of a sudden, a guy slammed into Y/n, spilling his drink all over her, causing Y/n to shiver at the sudden cold liquid seeping through her shirt. 

The drunk guy looked up at Y/n and muttered an apology before doing a double take, “Oh, holy shit. You’re Brent’s ex right?” Y/n’s face paled and Ryan stood up straight, eyeing the guy angrily. Clearly, the drunk moron didn’t realize that no one wanted to talk about that, “Yeah, you gotta be. I remember your brother or whoever goin’ batshit on him in the middle of that party, almost two years ago now, right?” 

Ryan shoved him, “Get the fuck away from her. She doesn’t wanna talk to you.” The man looked up at Ryan now, “Go home, Ronnie.” Ryan snarled at him. “You’ve had enough to drink, anyway.” Ronnie looked up at Ryan and raised a brow,

 “Since when are you two dating?” He flicked his eyes over to Y/n, who looked to be on the edge of tears. “You settle for Ryan here just because you missed fucking one of your brother’s friends?” And that was it, the wall that Y/n had built up had come crashing down with waterworks. 

Y/n ran upstairs, sobbing. Ryan shoved Ronnie into a wall and immediately followed after her, calling her name. “Y/n!” He watched her door slam shut, and against his better judgment, opened the door without knocking, “Y/n, look what he said-” He looked up at her shriek and saw her shirtless, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” He put his hand back on the knob to close it, but before he could reach the knob, she spoke up.

“Wait! Don’t… Don’t leave me.” She pleaded softly, breaking Ryan’s heart. He held a hand over his eyes and still kept his eyes down, though it was pointless to do both. He shut the door behind him and stood in the corner with his back to her. “I won’t leave but I won’t look. Just tell me when you’re done, okay?” 

Y/n let out a small hum of affirmation and Ryan sighed shakily, waiting patiently. After a minute or so, Y/n pulled him off the wall by his shoulder and uncovered his eyes. “You change qui-” 

Ryan wore a nervous smile on his face as he finally brought his hands off his eyes. He froze when he realized what he was looking at: a shirtless Y/n. “Oh-my god.” he stuttered out, his cheeks turning bright red as he turned his face away, “Y/n, I-” Her soft hand reached up to his cheek and turned him back towards her. “This is w-wrong, Y/n, you’re not thinking right, you’re upset, you-I don’t want to take advantage of you, I-” 

She hushed him and smiled, “You’re not taking advantage of anyone, Ryan. Promise.” Ryan swallowed hard as she took a step closer to him. The boy’s breath grew more jagged as his crush stepped closer and closer to him. Ryan finally took things upon himself, he placed his hands on her waist and kissed her deeply as Y/n’s hands moved to his hair. 

Ryan’s heart jumped to his throat. This was all he’d ever wanted, to be able to kiss Y/n, to hold her in his arms, this was the moment he’d dreamt of for as long as he could remember. So why did things feel so strange? He’d imagined this situation playing out several times and he’d planned everything down to a t, how he’d hold her, exactly how he’d kiss her, how softly he’d-

Ryan’s train of thought was interrupted when Y/n brought him back to her bed, yanking his shirt off of him and shoving him down as she sat on her knees in front of him. Y/n brought her hands to Ryan’s belt and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Ryan’s lips were trapped between his teeth as he watched her tear-jerkingly slow movements. She shuffled his pants down and Ryan raised his hips to help her, looking deep into her lust flooded eyes–matching his.

Ryan smiled down at her, raising a hand to pet her hair, “Is this your first-Oh, fuck.” Ryan’s own moans cut off his question as his head fell back as his hand moved to clench the bedsheets under him. Now, by no means was Ryan a virgin, in any sense of the word, but there was something about Y/n that just made everything feel like it was his first. He could only hope he was her first, but by the way she was skillfully moving her head up and down, followed by the swirling of her tongue, he was positive he wasn’t. 

He decided not to focus on that, but on the fact that this was even happening. Ryan moaned her name, “Y/n, fuck.” He let his eyes flutter shut and Y/n felt a zap of electricity shoot from her mouth to her toes. She loved the hold she had on him. She added her hand to Ryan’s cock and from that point on, his groans got even dirtier. Y/n’s heart began to race in arousal and anxiety, she’d never had anyone wound around her finger so tight, but it felt great. 

Ryan’s moans were heavenly. Y/n wanted more and more, so she did everything she knew how. She looked up at him and started to bob her head faster, licking up his cock to his tip. She flicked her tongue across his slit and Ryan swore he’d never moaned louder; she was so much better than he could’ve imagined, and he imagined a lot. They were both grateful for the booming music downstairs, or else they certainly would’ve been caught. 

Ryan sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and let a hand find its way in her hair and he tugged on it softly. Y/n moaned softly, sending a delicious vibration up Ryan’s cock. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re so good at this~” At the praise, she slightly sped up her movements and continued to look up at him, smirking when his face twitched, “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.” He grunted, Y/n kept her head down and let him spill into the back of her throat, riding out his high with him. Involuntarily, Ryan bucked his hips into mouth with another small moan. 

He looked down at her and caressed the side of her face, running his thumb over her cheek. “So beautiful. You gonna spit it out?” Y/n instead stuck her tongue out of her mouth and showed him his cum before swallowing it. 

Ryan’s face lit up in a blush and he licked his lips before pulling her off the floor by her face, kissing her deeply. With a hand on the back of her head, he stood up and lightly pushed her on the bed before unclasping her bra with one hand, causing her to blush and turn away. “Guess this isn’t your first time.” Ryan smiled softly and turned her face back towards him, “No, but I know this’ll be my best time.” He leaned down and kissed her deeply, sliding off her bra in the process. He sat up now, his knees on either side of her. Y/n swallowed hard and tried her best to maintain eye contact, but it was evident that she was anxious. 

Ryan immediately picked up on this and did a double take, “Shit, are you a virgin? We shouldn’t-” Ryan went to step off of her, but Y/n grabbed his arm and stopped him. 

“I want you to be my first, Ryan. Please.” Y/n begged softly, causing a whole other side of Ryan to take over. 

 “Do you have a condom?” He asked, his hand on her cheek again. The girl sat up and shook her head, “Bren has some in his nightstand drawer. You can go grab one.” She spoke timidly before Ryan nodded, basically sprinting to her brother’s room. 

She giggled at his speed, but when he was back and shut the door, it sunk in that she was really about to do this. Ryan resumed his position above her and shuffled her underwear down, before running his fingers up and down her sides. 

“Are you ready, Y/n?” 

#ryan ross #george ryan ross #ryan x reader #ryan ross afycso #george ryan ross iii #ryan ross x reader #connor x reader #emo fanfiction #emo x reader #ronnie radke #brendon urie #law and order reader insert #reader insert smut #Female reader #spencer smith #jon walker #jonathan walker #a fever you can't sweat out #a fever you cant sweat out #panic at the disco #panic at the disco x reader #patd #patd x reader #pete wentz

[dirty-urie]

Stubble (Claim Me)

1.5k words

Warnings: oral sex, penetrative sex, condomless sex, unwanted hickeys

You wrinkle your nose disapprovingly as Brendon comes out of the bathroom. He raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, pretty girl? You’re normally happy to see me naked.”

You scan down his body and flush at the sight of his cock, half-hard. You wonder if he touched himself in the shower, or if seeing you really gets him going that easily. You are naked after all. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the nudity. Keep that part,” you laugh, standing up from the hotel bed to press yourself against him.

He puts one hand on your ass and the other on the back of your neck. “Then what’s wrong, darlin’?”

You run your index finger down his cheek. “You didn’t shave for me,” you pout. “You always shave for me when I visit. I love your face all soft and smooth. Mmm, and when you smell like aftershave,” you sigh dreamily.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and the long stubble presses into you slightly. “I’m sorry, I have to stay unshaved for my show tonight. Part of the stage persona. But I’ll shave as soon as I’m done, deal? You’ll get a whole three days with your smooth man.”

You giggle. “Okay, fine. I’ll put up with stubble.”

Brendon’s nostrils flare. “Oh, baby. Put up with the stubble? Tsk tsk, y/n. Challenge accepted.”

You bite your lip, and he squeezes your ass. Your cunt begins to buzz in anticipation. “What challenge?” Brendon’s a competitive little shit, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s turning facial hair into a challenge.

Brendon suddenly scoops you up and drops you on the bed. You bounce a few times, and Brendon’s eyes darken at the sight of your tits moving up and down. “Fuck, you’re a work of art.”

You whimper, needing him. “Brendon, cock.” You reach for it in vain, but he’s standing at the foot of the bed, a hand wrapped around each of your ankles. Too far for you to get to his cock.

“You’ll get me.” It’s a promise. “But first I want to demonstrate to you the many pleasures of stubble.” He pushes your legs apart easily and crawls between them, his breathing heavy. “God, love this fucking cunt,” he groans.

He nuzzles your inner thighs lightly, his not-quite-beard tickling the sensitive skin. “Oh,” you gasp. He sucks on your thigh and nibbles on the skin while his scruff brushes your skin. “Oh.” You feel Brendon smirk against you, but you don’t mind because he’s already making you feel so fucking good. He moves to your quivering pussy without taking his face off of you, the rubbing hair stinging slightly and leaving a pleasant tingling feeling behind. He licks and sucks the skin of your mound, and you rub against his face desperately, relishing the extra sensation against you from his rough hair. He finally slips his tongue between your folds, tonguing your clit. “Fuck,” you groan. “I’ve missed this goddamn tongue.”

“Good,” he says, and it comes out muffled by your slickness. Luckily, you’re used to figuring him out with a mouth full of clit. “Because I’ve missed this sweetness,” he groans, and you peer down to confirm that he’s grinding against the bed. He pushes two fingers into you, crooking them expertly.

His tongue is on your clit, his fingers are buried in your pussy, and his stubble is rubbing against the skin inside your thighs. All of the sensations coil tightly in your stomach, hot and intense.

“That’s right,” he encourages, speeding up his fingers. “Come for me, baby.”

You flush, embarrassed at how well he can read you. “Brendon,” you whine. “So good.”

“Come,” he coaxes, and you moan deeply, squeezing his face with your thighs. “Good girl,” he praises breathlessly, crawling up your body to lie on top of you. His erection presses insistently into your thigh, but he doesn’t seem overly needy. You admire his self-control.

Your thighs are warm and burn slightly with all of his abrasion. You relish the reminder of him between them.

You crane your neck, silently begging for kisses, and he acquiesces easily, letting you suck at his lips before pressing your tongue in needily. You gasp against his mouth when you feel his face, hair soaked with your arousal. He’s rubbing yourself back onto you, and your whole body feels utterly claimed by him. “Fuck me,” you plead, and Brendon lines himself up before pressing inside you.

Pain intermingles with pleasure hotly when he rubs against the irritated skin of your thighs, and you groan, devouring his lips, tasting the mix of him and yourself on his tongue. He fucks you quickly, needing you to come so he can get ready for his show. He brings a hand between your bodies, stroking your clit. “Good girl. So good for me,” he praises when your walls spasm around him. Jolts of pleasure wrack you, and you moan, drawing him closer to you.

“So good, Brendon,” you cry before you resume kissing him sloppily. You kiss down his cheek to his neck, sucking lightly.

Brendon inhales sharply. “Baby, baby, no marks,” he reminds. You pout, and he kisses you in consolation. “You can mark me up as much as you want once the tour is over,” he promises, and your pussy spasms at the thought. “You’re squeezing my cock perfectly. God, I’m so fucking hard.” He throbs inside you, and you grab his hair.

“Fuck me harder,” you groan, and Brendon squeezes his eyes shut before he picks up his pace.

Brendon pants hard, and his face is flushed. You know what he’s about to say before he does. “Baby, gotta come soon,” he warns. “You know how eating your pussy gets me.”

“Oh I know.” You nibble his lip. “I'm about to come, baby. Don’t worry.” His thrusts falter, and you sink onto his cock, clenching around it hard. “Fuck, fuck, amazing.”

Brendon comes with you, warm semen spilling into you as ecstasy raptures his face. “I love you, baby,” he sighs, rolling off of you and slipping out.

You roll out of bed, and come drips out of your cunt onto your rubbed inner thighs, and you feel like his. “Bren,” you sigh, sated, and Brendon looks at you expectantly with his gorgeous brown eyes, “I can get behind stubbly sex again. Need be.”

He grins, eyes glinting. “And maybe I’ll get behind you next time.” He winks as you half-walk, half-limp to the bathroom to clean up. He’s only been gone on tour for two weeks, but you’re still slightly sore from being out of practice. You don’t use any internal toys while he’s gone. None can replace his perfect cock thrusting into you. Plus your thighs tingle a tad unpleasantly when you rub them together.

You pass by the mirror on your way to the shower and do a double take. “BRENDON,” holler, storming out of the bathroom. You flare your nostrils and put a hand on your hip.

Brendon bites his lip sheepishly. “Yes, beloved?”

You gesture to your lower face. “What is this?” you demand.

“…beard burn.”

You huff and walk back into the bathroom indignantly, studying the pink irritation all over your cheeks and chin in the mirror before rejoining your boyfriend in bed. “Brendon,” you whine, “everyone is gonna know we’ve been fucking.”

Brendon growls and his nostrils flare. “Fuck, baby.” He grabs his hardening cock. “I kinda like that. Let everyone know you’ve been claimed as mine.”

You pounce on him, sucking hard right above his collar bone. A place that should be covered by his shirt, but could easily become exposed if he’s not careful. You nibble down his chest and suck several little marks in a horizontal line above his dick. Once again, covered by clothes in theory, but you know how his pants ride down and his shirt rides up.

Brendon bucks up his hips under you as you work, fully erect now. He moans and doesn’t bother to protest, just reaches between your bodies to touch himself.

You sit back on your knees to admire your handiwork. Six unmissable dark marks on his abdomen.

“Y/n, what happened to no marks?” he finally has the sense to pant.

You let out a single dry laugh. “Tit for tat, baby boy. You claimed me, and then I claimed you.”

Brendon shudders in arousal, his erection leaking before he regains his composure and smirks at you. He cradles your breast in his spare hand. “Fair enough, love, but I’d prefer tat for tit if you don’t mind. After all, these tits are fucking incredible.” He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and his beard hairs tickle you delightfully.

“And they’re all yours. Claim my tits, Brendon.”

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie imagine #my work #long post

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍! ´ˎ˗

𝐡𝐞𝐲! 𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬! 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, *𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞!* 𝐢 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝟐𝟎 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬! (𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞!)

𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜! 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 -- 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫 --- 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

- 𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖆! ♡

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒! ´ˎ˗

"𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕..."

➹ 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖔𝖔𝖓! send me the name of a character plus a timestamp and I'll write a short blurb for you! (ex- castiel, 2:30 am)

➹ 𝖎 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖘! write a short letter to a character and I’ll send you their response! (ex - dear sherlock, I miss you…) - please don’t write anything longer than 100 words!

➹ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖆! I’ll give you three p!atd songs and a music video based on your blog’s theme! (if you’re an anon, give me a few fun facts about yourself!)

➹ 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊! For my gorgeous, gorgeous moots, I’ll be sending off handwritten notes! xxx

➹ 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖗! Let me ship you with one of my random crushes! I’ll whip out a beloved from my collection. Just tell me a bit about yourself!   

➹ 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆 𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖊! Send me a few songs you think I’d like! 

➹ 𝖘𝖚𝖌𝖆𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖗! send me the name of a character or celeb and your aesthetic - I’ll make you a mood board! - open for all fandoms! - even those I don’t write for! (ex: cottage core, loki?)

➸ ➸ 𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝟐𝟎'𝐬! ➸ ➸  It’s my birthday soon, so send me questions you’re curious about! 

˗ˏˋ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒! ´ˎ˗​

"𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚..."

➹ only one event per ask, please! but you can totally request more than one party favour!!! <3

➹ be sure to add the title of the party favour before sending anything in. Just so I can keep track! (ex - 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖔𝖔𝖓! - let’s do... sam and dean, 11:30 am) :)

➹ You can find a list of fandoms and characters I write for HERE. Refer to this if you’re requesting a blurb or letter. Mood boards are open to all fandoms and celebs!

➹ I’ll leave submissions open for the next while a few updates here and there. I’ll start sending out posts from December 20th - December 31st!!! Thanks so much for participating!!!!! Again, I just want to say how much I appreciate you all!!! Much love!!! <3

➹  tagging a few lovely moots!!! you’re all so wonderful, and I’m so grateful that I get to interact with you all!!! <333 : @goldencherriess @starstruck-loner @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @lumosouls @thespiritoflife @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @classickook @astudyinlaura @baby-bloos @natti-ice @misaverawrites @lucywrites02 @bakerstreethound @frostandflamesfanfic @aephereal @starryeddie @foxmulderlovebot @andthevillainshallrises​

➹ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 @animatedglittergraphics-n-more​

#french vanilla's roaring 20's #birthday bash and 1k milestone #panic! at the disco #brendon urie #sherlock fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #The x-files fanfiction #sherlock x reader #castiel x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #stephen strange x reader #fox mulder x reader

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Homecomming - Brendon Urie x Reader

Request: I just had this idea I had to share if you are taking requests (got inspired by a video)Imagine the reader tries to pranks Brendon urie their boyfriend/husband with a fake prom. They set up everything getting dressed from thrift stores a tux for brendon and the whole house is covered in confetti and just a bunch of stuff to surprise him when he comes home. But when he does Zack is with him and zack is like wtf and Brendon is just so happy and the reader makes zack record them and Brendon’s dance

Reader: female (implied?)

Warnings: alcohol

Word count: 1 504

A/N: I fucking love Quickstep, okay?

Brendon was feeling bad. He knew he shouldn’t. But he was anyway. The one evening you had been looking forward to for almost a year now, and he was not there. Yesterday had been the annual prom of the dancing school you worked at, and you had been beyond excited to go there with him. And he even had managed to get the label only to book concerts so he could be home in time for him to accompany you, but then his flight had gotten canceled, and the next had gotten delayed, and eventually he was a day late.

He knew you had gone alone, since you were a dancing teacher you had to turn up, partner at your side or not. You had sent a couple of pictures, of the ankle long, beautifully elegant dress you had worn, of the difficult up-do you had managed all by yourself, and eventually a video of the dancefloor with dozens of couples dancing a romantic rumba.

Of course Brendon would never be as good at dancing as you were, after all it was your job (and the one time he had seen you teach a class had made it obvious to him that this job was the thing you were destined to do in life). But still he would have loved to see you in that dress, have been able to place his hand sneakily at your bare back, where the dress was showing off your skin so beautifully, would have wanted to help you out of the car, and watch you all evening long, the smooth fabric gently moving around your body, while you gracefully made your way through crowds as if they were nothing but shadows. And maybe he could have even stolen a dance or two from you, trying not to feel too silly knowing that, from the men you were encountering on a daily basis, he was the worst dancer.

But because his flight had been canceled he was now mopping around on the backseat of a cab, Zack sitting next to him with an almost amused smile.

“You’re like a toddler, you know that,” the body guard asked, secretly glad he was able to get rid of the pissed of musician soon. The tantrum Brendon had thrown at the airport in private between the two of them yesterday had been beyond annoying, and while Zack knew how important it was to Brendon to prove to you that he was a good husband, he could not help but eventually be annoyed by it.

“I know,” Brendon sighed.

“I texted her, she knows we’re coming in a couple of minutes,” Zack informed, looking out of the window. The streets from the airport to Brendon’s home were familiar by now.

When the cab eventually pulled up in front of the house, Brendon could not get out of the car quickly enough. It was already late in the evening, so seeing the blinds drawn at the windows of the house worried him. Were you asleep already? He had been looking forward to talking to you before going to sleep.

“Want me to help you with your luggage,” Zack offered, and Brendon quickly nodded, taking one of the suitcases by the handle, and walked up to the house.

As quietly as possible, he unlocked the front door, and realised in relief that the lights in the living room were still on while soft music was playing.

“Baby, I’m home,” he called into the corridor, kicking off his shoes carelessly into a corner, and walking into the living room.

He had walked into his living room many times before, but never had it looked like this.

Along the shelves and the mantelpiece, on the table and the window stills burning candles were lined up, filling the room with warm orange light. He wanted to make a joke about the pentagram on the floor missing, but in that moment you stepped into the room as well, and that took his breath away.

You were wearing the dress you had sent him photos off, but the pictures did no justice to your beauty. It did not happen very often for Brendon to be left speechless, but in that moment he was. He could not remember having seen you this beautiful and elegant since your wedding. Now your hair was done up again, pearls reflecting golden light from your hair, a soft glimmer coming from the delicately applied lipstick you were wearing. The dress gently swung around your legs as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and gazing at him for a while. His hands immediately found their way to your waist, like an instinct.

“Glad you’re home,” you whispered and were leaning in to kiss him, when Zack burst into the house.

“What the hell is that,” he wondered, looking around with furrowed brows.

Brendon could not help but feel annoyed. Couldn’t he see the moment was intimate?

“Well,” you pulled away from Brendon, walking over to the couch table where you had placed two glasses and a bottle of wine, “I thought since Brendon couldn’t make it to the prom yesterday, we could do our own little prom here tonight.”

Pouring wine into the two glasses, you walked back over, and handed one to Brendon, offering the other one to Zack, who denied.

“You’re weird,” Zach shrugged.

“It’s amazing,” Brendon grinned, finally escaping his surprise, and placing the glass aside in order to pull you into a hug, “I love it so much!”

You giggled a little, very likely the sweetest sound Brendon would ever know.

“I’m glad you like it. Self-made pizza is in the oven for later, and there is your favourite pudding in the fridge as desert,” you informed.

“You’ve gone all out, haven’t you,” Brendon laughed, gently kissing your hair.

“I have,” you agreed, “We even have a perfect playlist full of our favourite songs to dance to, and your tuxedo is upstairs on the bed.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Brendon decided, and quickly ran out of the room, up the stairs.

“You know how to make him happy,” Zack rolled his eyes, “He’s been in the worst mood since he found out he’d miss the prom.”

“It’s a tradition to go,” you shrugged, “I know it’s important to him.” You took a small sip from the glass of wine Zack had denied. “What?”

Confused you gestured towards Zack who was watching you with a raised eyebrow.

“The two of you are the worst couple I know. You know each other so fucking well, can read each other’s thoughts even, and are so sweet together, I’m getting caries from just looking at you together!”

Taking another sip from the glass you smiled knowingly.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

A few moments later Brendon came running down the stairs again, dressed in the black tuxedo, still trying to tie his bowtie correctly.

“I’m ready! Prom can begin,” he announced excitedly.

Laughing you stepped in front of him, and finished tying the bowtie for him.

“Sorry, I don’t got a tux for you, Zack,” you smiled when you turned to the other man.

“Nah, I’d rather get home. Enjoy the time alone you two,” he shrugged, still obviously confused about what was going on with you to organise such a thing.

“Before you leave,” you quickly called for Zack who was already on his way to the door, “could you take a couple of pictures?”

You pointed to the camera on the side table by the living room door, and compliantly Zack snapped a couple of photos before eventually saying good night, and leaving. When the door fell into its lock behind him, Brendon turned to you.

“Got you all to myself now,” he grinned, and pulled you into his arms, gently kissing you.

The fabric of his tuxedo was not yet warm, only cool, rigid fabric underneath your fingertips.

“Should I put on some music,” you eventually asked, not quite able to tear your eyes away from Brendon’s lips.

“Definitely,” he agreed, and reluctantly let go of you, allowing you to head over to the stereo where you plugged in your mobile and chose a song from a playlist. Almost immediately the upbeat rhythm of a Quickstep sounded through the living room, the music getting Brendon eager to dance along immediately. Thank god the living room was big enough.

Quickly he jumped over to you, and placed his hand on your shoulder blade, taking hold of your hand with the other. You placed your free hand on his upper arm, and smiled at him, while he pulled you close into the correct stance which you had taught him years ago. On the right beat he started dancing, guiding you through the living room, his body and yours skilfully moving to the music, and right here, right now, he was rather glad he had missed the prom yesterday, and gotten to dance with you like this instead.

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

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240 @starduststyx

#brendon urie x reader #brendon urie x reader fluff #brendon urie x reader fanfiction #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie fluff #brendon urie imagine #Panic! at the Disco #panic at the disco imagine #panic at the disco fanfiction #fluff #cute #fluffy

[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

[writtenkitten18]

My Blood Masterlist

Cast

Prologue

First Meeting

Deal

Welcome to Chicago

First Steps

Business Partners

Auditions

Get This Off of My Chest

The Day Her Life Changed Forever

Her Past

I Won’t Hurt You Lily

#Chicago PD #Law and Order SVU #Zendaya #Tom Holland #Fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #Jay Halstead #jay halstead x reader #hank voight x daughter #Camila Cabello #shawn mendes #sabrina carpenter #Sofia carson #Brendon Urie #Bella Thorne

[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

[misguidedswagger]

trust: chapter 1

a/n: hi! i’ve been gone for a VERY long time, i know, but i’m back with this! idk if anyone’s gonna wanna read it, but oh well lol. i found out live in denver was remastered and now my ryan ross obession is back full force lol, enjoy! 

warnings for this story include: angst, smut, cheating, and more. read at your own discretion.

trust masterlist

entire masterlist

w.c: 2,085

Brendon, Jon, Ryan, and Spencer sat and listened to the studio version of the album that they'd created together. Nervously, they stared ahead at the older male who listened intently to their music, staying completely silent. Once the demo album had finished, the eldest clicked pause on the computer to prevent the tracks from looping, and leaned back on the couch before nodding and clasping his hands together. The four barely-out-of-high-school boys had matching racing heart rates as they waited in anticipation for him to say anything at all. Every moment of silence felt like an eternity.

"I've gotta sign you guys. You have such an excellent sound that the world needs to hear. Don't even get me started on how phenomenal your lyrics are," He turned to Ryan, nodding at him as he kept talking, "You're so young yet so poetic. I dig it, man. Keep up the good work." Pete said, a large smile overtaking his face. An honored smile slowly wriggled its way onto the tallest member's face as he looked down at his hands, embarrassed and nervous, yet grateful.

Brendon was the first to shoot up and yell, "Are you serious?! Hooooly shit!" He laughed giddily, Spencer and Jon high-fiving as Ryan sat in shock, voiceless. Brendon pulled him up and gave him a very tight hug, "Dude, thanks to your awesome lyricism, we're going places!" Ryan still hadn't been able to speak, but when he opened his mouth to attempt such, Pete stood up and grabbed the phone buzzing in his back pocket and glanced at it before making a quick exit, "Sorry guys, gotta head to my own rehearsal. Talk soon." The boys had all nodded and basically yelled their gratitude as he walked away, and Brendon followed behind him to let Pete out, as they were at Brendon's house. Though, before Pete left the Urie house, he turned and spoke loud enough for the whole band to hear him, "And hey, congrats. Seriously."

Brendon nodded his thanks as he let the man out and turned back to his friends and bandmates. For someone who never really knew when exactly to be quiet, Brendon was pretty much speechless, minus some excited laughs.  He pulled everyone into a hug, to which everyone gratefully partook in. Though, a kind and gentle voice interrupted their excitement and celebratory hug,

"Woah, I leave the house for like two hours and everyone's hugging. Everything okay-" Before she could properly formulate her question, the younger girl was swept off of her feet by her older brother, causing her to giggle. "Jesus, Brendon, what the hell happened? You finally get laid?"

Her comment caused the boys to laugh, including her obnoxious older brother. "Pete just left–"

It was her turn to interrupt now, "Did you guys get signed?!" Brendon's words dissolved into excited giggles and he nodded emphatically. She squealed in excitement and hugged him tightly.

"So, is it just a Urie thing to interrupt each other, or...?" Ryan finally spoke up, mostly directing his comment towards Spencer and Jon rather than the two siblings. The two siblings' hug broke and the girl laughed at her brother's best friend's comment.

Ryan felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of her laugh, but he turned his head away once his and her eyes connected. She couldn't see him blush. Her brother would kill him if he found out how Ryan felt.

Y/n Urie was untouchable, deemed so by her protective older brother. It bothered Ryan to extraordinarily painful degree, the fact that he'd never be able to have Y/n all to himself, he'd never be able to take her on meaningful dates, to be able to kiss her beautiful face, touch her incredibly stunning body, be the man she told her deepest secrets to, or anything remotely similar.

A year ago, Brent fucking Wilson ruined that for him, and he'd never forgive him for that. Brent and Y/n had dated for about 3 years, and Y/n loved him with all of her soul, and Brent acted like he loved her all the same, until New Year's Eve.

Keltie Knight. A girl that the Urie's, and Ryan grew to hate.

Y/n had been looking everywhere for her boyfriend, as she wanted to kiss him as the year changed, she walked around the party, opening several doors, calling for him. She finally opened a bedroom door and found her so-called love of her life on top of Keltie, and she felt her heart absolutely shatter at the sight.  Her world began to spin. Who knew that in a party with blaring music, the sound of a heart splintering could still be heard?

The worst part? Brent showed absolutely no remorse. As he kept his pace, pleasing the girl beneath him, he held eye contact with Y/n. Y/n dropped the cups she was holding and ran out of the house, pushing past her very concerned older brother and his best friend.

Brendon felt his chest tighten in anxiety and worry as he looked at Ryan, he tilted his head towards the doorway Y/n ran through and started speed walking in the direction she had come. "Make sure she's okay." Brendon spoke before turning back around.

Ryan sprinted out of the house, following Y/n's footprints in the snow, "Y/n!" He called after her before she turned to him, the moonlight highlighting the tears that now cascaded down her cheeks. Ryan lost every sentence he'd prepared as he looked at the girl he'd loved, truly distraught.

So he did what he thought best, he held his arms open for her. She ran into his arms and sobbed her heart out as Ryan pet her hair soothingly, "Hey...Shhh, let it out, sweetheart. I'm here. Talk to me, what's going on?"

Ryan didn't mean to use a pet name on her, it just kind of slipped. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment before he mentally smacked himself; his girl, his best friend's sister, was very clearly upset over something and he was making things about himself. How selfish could he be? He couldn't help that Y/n truly brought out the protective side in him.

Y/n didn't realize that Ryan called her 'sweetheart', or if she did, she said nothing about it. She only pressed her face deeper into Ryan's chest, feeling if she hid her face far enough into him she'd forget what she'd just seen and felt.

Ryan lightly tapped her shoulder before he pulled her back a little bit to look her in the eyes as he cupped her face. "Y/n?" He pressed gently, causing her to take a deep breath as Ryan used the pad of his thumbs to wipe the tears under her eyes.

"Brent...Brent and Keltie Knight..." was the only thing she could muster before she collapsed in on herself, sobbing even harder than she previously was.

With as few words and she had used, Ryan pieced together what happened and held her as tightly as he could. Anger raged through his bloodstream and he felt his body start to heat up from pure fury.

Ryan then realized how cold the girl in his hold was. Ryan took off his gray sweater, placing it over the shaking girl's shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her once more and rested his chin on her head before sighing softly, "I know the last thing you want to do is go back in there, but you're freezing, Y/n. Plus, Brendon was really worried about you."

She only nodded against his chest before pulling away and smearing her already smudged makeup with the back of her hand. She held Ryan's hand tightly, and she looked up at him.

They've always said the eyes are the window to the soul, Ryan would know. He knew almost every poetic saying there was: that saying was loud and true, especially right now. His heart cracked into little slivers as he could see how broken the younger girl truly was.

She squeezed his hand tightly and he glanced down before looking back up at her, "Please don't let go." She quietly begged, causing him to nod.

He forced his feelings, heart racing and all, to steady. He couldn't believe how his body was betraying him, Y/n was just cheated on and he couldn't keep his thoughts from swimming.

"I promise I won't." Ryan affirmed, squeezing her hand back.

Ryan guided her back to the house and the music that was previously blaring was now completely off, or turned down. Ryan and Y/n could hear the loud booming of a crowd and the grunting and yelling of two males, the sound of skin to fist echoing into the dark night.

The two made their way back into the house and shoved their way to the front of the circle that'd formed. Ryan, the taller of the two, spotted their friends, Jon and Spencer and made their way over to him. Spencer, like another older brother to Y/n, took her from Ryan's grip, and she momentarily let go of Ryan's hand. She pulled away before moving over to Ryan, taking his hand again and hiding in his chest once more.

She tilted her head slightly, watching the fight in front of her, for  her unfolded.

Her brother was on top of Brent, punch after punch landing into his nose. Brendon was unscathed, which surprised even Brendon himself. He was smaller than Brent, which had both advantages and disadvantages. Brendon was more agile due to karate, but he was a little weaker. At least, typically he was, but seeing his supposed friend, who was dating his sister, cheating on her unapologetically activated a different type of adrenaline in him.

Brent was bleeding and started to swell like a dropped fruit. "How could you do that to her?!" Brendon shouted down at him, another blow landing into Brent's face, "She and I fucking trusted you!" Another hit.

And another.

And another.

And another.

And then, Brendon stood up.

He walked over to Y/n and pulled her into a hug, still staring at Brent. He hadn't seen her and Ryan holding hands. A good thing. Especially right now. Ryan would've been lying if he said the cuts and blood on Brendon's hands didn't freak him out, at least a bit.

He walked Y/n towards the door before stopping at Brent's barely conscious body and kicking into his side as hard as he could, spitting on him. He wrapped his arms around Y/n once more, Ryan, following after the two.

As they got into the car, Brendon slid into the driver's seat, looking at Y/n in the rearview mirror, "I'm so sorry, Y/n, I won't let another one of my friends hurt you."

~

An elbow to the side knocked Ryan out of his reverie, and with a grunt of pain, he let out an irritated, "What?"

Jon snorted before gesturing towards Y/n who was now standing in front of him, no longer in the arms of her brother,

"I said, are you allergic to anything? I'm making a celebratory cake for you all! Pay attention, Ross!"

Ryan did his best to keep his composure, he rolled his eyes and shoved her playfully, "Obviously not, shouldn't you know this already?" He teased, smiling at her.

"Just making sure. Not trying to hide your dead body if you actually are allergic to something I make." And with that, she turned away and headed toward the kitchen, Spencer and Brendon following after her, excited to eat her awesome cake.

Jon lingered back for a moment with Ryan, "You gotta be careful man. I can't always save you." And then he headed towards the kitchen too.

Shit, was it that obvious he was thinking about her? There were some things she did that made him feel like she could possibly feel the same about her: the small stolen glances at him, the laughing sincerely at his jokes, making sure he was never left out of a conversation, the reassuring hand squeezes when he was nervous, the excited hugs. Man, her hugs were heavenly.

Jon was the only one who knew how Ryan felt about Y/n, hell, Jon was the only one who knew their song 'Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off' was really about Brent and Y/n, and not him and his ex girlfriend. Jon knew everything and helped Brendon know nothing.

Ryan knew he needed to relax and hide his feelings better, but, come on!

She was wearing Ryan's sweater.

That had to mean something, right?

Right?

#ryan ross #ryan ross afycso era #ryan ross afycso #ryan ross x reader #ryan x reader #spencer smith #a fever you can't sweat out #ryan ross fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #jonathan walker #brent wilson #brendon urie #panic at the disco #patd x reader #live in denver #x reader fanfiction

[dirty-urie]

Behave

4.7k Words

Warnings: public sex, oral sex, brief mention of drugs

Based on these requests

Your mouth gapes open. “Bren,” you sputter. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I got here?”

Brendon smiles guiltily. “Then you wouldn’t have come.”

You glare at him before glaring at the bus that you’ll all be crammed into for your week-long visit.

“C’mon, baby, it won’t be so bad,” Brendon says. “You liked living on the tour bus with all the guys when we first started dating.”

“That was before you spoiled me with our own bus! Plus we all lie at the beginning of relationships. You pretended to like feminist literature for like three months.”

“I do like feminist literature! The Bell Jar was deeply poignant!”

You sigh. “You only know that book because it was in 10 Things I Hate About You.”

“Okay, fine. I should have told you my bus broke down,” Brendon finally caves. “I’ll get you a ticket home. You shouldn’t have to deal with the peasant bus.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “Oh no no. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, pretty boy,” you say, pecking his cheek. “I may hate crowded tour buses, but I hate being away from you more.”

Brendon strokes your hair. “So brave for me, baby. And lucky for you I’m very good at bunk sex.” He winks.

You scoff. “Ha, nope, mister. You are not getting any this week.”

“We’ll see. I’m pretty irresistible,” he says, walking with you onto the bus.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll manage. Plus you said I get my own bunk, right?”

Brendon nods, punching in the code for the door. As soon as you’re on the bus, Brendon grabs your shoulders, in both an attempt to comfort you and an attempt to prevent you from immediately running away. There are food wrappers strewn about, a carpet of dirty clothes lining the floor, and two flies buzzing anxiously about the enclosed space. “I will clean this up, don’t worry, sweet girl.” Brendon laughs nervously.

You take a deep breath while Brendon gathers dirty underwear and greasy pizza boxes. You crack open a few windows and start tidying up the kitchenette, making the place decently livable. “Sorry to be such a diva, Brendon.”

Brendon shakes his head, putting a bag of laundry and a bag of trash near the door for Zack to take out later. “We’ve all been complaining about the mess for weeks. We’ve just been too lazy to do something about it.” He walks forward. “Plus, a clean bus means I get to do this.” He lifts you up by your hips, and places you on the now-clean kitchenette counter.

You grasp the back of his head with both hands, frantically crashing his lips against yours. You waste no time getting your hand down his pants, finally wrapping your hand around his stiffening cock like you’ve been dreaming of. He groans, deep and guttural, as his head tips back in bliss. He yanks his sweatpants down, and you feel his erection between you. You wrap your legs around him and grind on his cock, kissing him desperately. You slide your hand up his back under his shirt. “Oh god, Bren, I’m so wet you whine.”

“Fuck. I’m so hard,” Brendon groans. “Need to come soon. Can I come inside you?”

“Please,” you whine, and he starts to press into you.

You hear the beeping of the electric keypad to the bus, and before you have time to react, the bus door slams open and Brendon’s band mates pour in. You scramble to pull away from each other, and you blush bright red as you tuck Brendon’s cock into his pants.

Nicole wolf-whistles and cackles. “Oh gross, guys. That’s where we cook! Or, er, that’s where we put our pizza boxes when we get take out.”

Mike flushes brighter than you and Brendon. Zack, forever unfazed, just rolls his eyes. “I would like to remind everyone, not anyone in particular, I’m not singling anyone out, that the tour bus still has a strict ban on fucking.”

Dan, Nicole, and Mike snort, and you bury your face in Brendon’s chest, partially to hide your embarrassment, and partially to hide your giggles. “Brendon didn’t respect the no fucking rule back in his single days, and he certainly won’t respect it when the love of his life is here,” Dan teases.

You grin at the words ‘love of his life’ before sliding off the counter. Brendon pulls you close to him immediately, and you don’t realize why until you feel his erection pressing against your ass. He’s using you to hide it. You bite your lip, trying not to rub back against him. “Don’t worry, Zack. We’ll behave,” you promise. Brendon kisses up the nape of your neck, and you have to fight back a moan.

Zack stares at both of you disbelievingly. “Mhm. Brendon? You’ll behave?”

Brendon grabs your ass, and you squeal, turning around to lock your lips with his again.

Someone clears their throat behind you, and you separate again, both staring at the floor. “I’ll make him behave, Zack,” you mumble. “He’s in trouble anyway.”

Everyone settles into the lounge, and you do too, sitting in Brendon’s lap.

“Why’s he in trouble?” Nicole asks curiously, sipping a diet soda.

“He didn’t tell me his bus broke down before I showed up,” you explain, and everyone else in the lounge cracks up at you. Your cheeks heat, and you fidget as embarrassment rises back in your throat. They’re distinctly laughing at you, but you’re not sure why.

“Aww, poor princess, you’re stuck in the shithole bus,” Zack snarks, and Brendon strokes your arm soothingly.

“Hey, she served her time in the shithole,” Brendon snaps. “She spent a whole tour during Too Weird in a bus with all the guys. And need I remind you that you fuckers are paid to be here. Y/n is gracing us with her presence out of the kindness of her heart.”

You twist to peck him on the cheek. “Thanks for defending my honor, babe.”

Brendon waggles his eyebrows. “Oh I'm sure you’ll find a way to thank me later.”

“Nice try, baby boy, we’ll be in separate beds anyway,” you scoff, “I’ll be able to resist your Urie Charm just fine.”

“Oh fine,” Brendon sighs.

“Such a good husband, baby boy,” Zack mocks.

You pinch Brendon’s cheek affectionately. “Look at dis man. You’re just jealous he’s not your baby boy.” You snuggle against him.

Everyone fakes a gag, and Brendon kisses all over your face. “Mmm, I’m a slut for you, honey.”

“Y’all are fucking gross,” Nicole howls.

Brendon kisses the top of your head, standing up. “Nah, we’re cute. Admit it,” he says playfully before turning his back to the lounge and heading to the bunk area. ”Okay, I’m turning in. Use my card if you order any food or drinks.”

Cheers erupt from the group, and Brendon turns over his shoulder to shoot a wink at you.

Nicole makes Zack pick up Sonic during his trash run, and you stay up later with the band playing strip go-fish, a game Brendon invented when he wanted to get naked but was too drunk to play poker. Now it’s a beloved Panic! past time.

“Dan, do you have any queens?” you ask Dan nervously. You’re down to a t-shirt, bra, and panties, and if you don’t get this card, you’ll have to drop out.

Dan grins, and your stomach drops. “Go fiiiiiii-,” he starts and your nostrils flare. “Go figure, you’d ask for the one card I have,” he laughs, handing you three queens.”

You slump in relief before you smack his arm. “Fuck. Dude. You had me going there.”

The key-pad beeps, and you all look at the door, expecting Zack back with your food. Instead Fall Out Boy pours in, and Pete pumps his fists in celebration. “Zack said there’s strip go-fish?” He asks, as everyone, in various states undress, flocks to the newcomers.

“Hell yeah, now it’s a party,” Nicole calls, turning up the music. “Are you staying the night?

“You know we are!”

Zack follows behind the band, holding three massive bags of fast food and a garbage bag of clean laundry. “Everyone behave, we have a show tomorrow,” he reminds before checking his watch, a difficult feat with the food. “Or, um, later today I guess. It’s 5 am.”

“Shit that’s late!” you exclaim. You kiss Patrick’s cheek, the last of the boys you greet. “I’m sorry to leave the party as it’s getting started, but I’m jetlagged, I’ll see you guys at the show?”

The FOB guys nod.

“Oh!” Zack calls after you. ”Y/n, do you mind bunking with B? We’re low on space now,” he asks, and you try to glower at him without anyone else noticing.

“That’s fine,” you grumble, going into the bunk area and shutting the divider. It somewhat muffles the music and laughter, but you can clearly hear them, and you know they could clearly hear you.

You crawl into Brendon’s top bunk and shed your bra. Brendon instinctively nuzzles against you, and you whine. Your brain may be pissed at him, but your body can’t resist him as temptation burns through you. “You feel good,” Brendon says, nibbling at your lip. “Mmm, and you’re not wearing pants.”

You pull away from him as much as you can in the tiny bunk. “Don’t start something we can’t finish,” you whisper sharply.

Brendon places a gentle kiss on your temple before scooting against the back wall of the bunk. “Not trying to. Just love to be close to you.”

You roll onto your other side, facing away from him. He hugs you from behind, sliding his hand under your shirt to rest it on your boobs. You sigh in contentment, squirming back against him.

Brendon nips at the back of your neck. “What happened to not starting something we can’t finish, baby?”

“You’re the one with the hand on my-” you hiss. Brendon puts a finger on your lips before silently pointing down to an occupied bunk below.

“Fuck,” you mouth. You need him inside you. You place your mouth right next to his ear. “Are you actually good at bunk sex?” you whisper. You don’t remember ever having bunk sex with Brendon. You usually waited for a hotel night. Or you tried to secretly fuck in the back lounge. Or the front lounge. Or a bathroom. Or somewhere backstage. Or one memorable time, on the roof of some producer’s mansion. But bunks are cramped and inconvenient and hard to clean. They’re a last resort.

Brendon nods eagerly. “Although, fair warning, it’s been a while. Okay, you get on top. Lie flat on top of me.”

You look at him quizzically. There’s not nearly enough space to ride him if he wants that.

“Just trust me, okay?” he murmurs, and you groan, rolling on top of him.

“I need you to fuck me,” you hiss quietly.

“Baby,” he says, amused, “I can’t fuck you if my dick is trapped between us. Scooch up a bit.”

You straddle him, standing up on your knees so he can shimmy his briefs down. He lifts his hips, and you smack your head on the ceiling of the bunk. “Fuck, Brendon,” you say at full volume before you blanch, imagining how a nosy eavesdropper could misconstrue that in a sexual context.

Brendon lays back flat on the mattress, murmuring hushed apologies.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you wave him off, ignoring the unpleasant throb of pain in your head. “Hm, I can make this work,” you muse, assessing him. His briefs are half-way down his thighs, but at least his cock is out.

You stand up on your knees again to position yourself over him, and your knee slips off the bunk’s edge. Brendon grabs you to keep you from tumbling onto the floor, and you end up smashing into his chest with your other knee.

“Damnit,” he mutters. “Fuck, this shouldn’t be this hard.”

“You shouldn’t be this hard,” you laugh, grabbing his cock. “The minor contusions didn’t kill your erection?”

“I haven’t gotten laid in so long, baby! Don’t judge me!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Bren, I don’t think sex is going to happen tonight.”

“Let me try one more thing,” Brendon pleads, and you try not to get your hopes up.

“Okay.”

Brendon kisses you in gratitude. “Roll on your side away from me. Towards the curtain,” he instructs.

You roll on your side, and you feel him roll next to you, spooning you, his erection pressing against your ass. He pushes your panties to the side and moves your leg back over his hip. He pushes into your pussy and you inhale, trying to keep yourself from moaning. “God, I love your cock,” you whisper.

He reaches over you to stroke up your clit, and your body jerks at the shock of pleasure. He thrusts into you quickly but shallowly, restricted by the wall behind him and you in front of him. “I’ve missed this, baby,” he tells you, slamming his hips hard against you trying to get deeper.

You bring a hand to your breast, rubbing your nipple and making a mental note to get your tits in Brendon’s mouth the next time you fuck. He bites your shoulder to keep quiet, and you clench your teeth, only letting out small whimpers.

He speeds up on your clit, and your walls tighten. A shriek escapes your lips right as the music in the lounge turns off, and Brendon stills. “Bren! Wha- fuck! Keep going!” you demand.

Brendon kisses your shoulder and strokes your hair. “Baby, people will be coming to bed soon, and even if you could stay quiet when you come, which I doubt, you are… how do I put this? Uh, audibly wet.”

“Bren, I need to come,” you whine. “And you do too, you’re so hard. And you said so yourself, it’s been so long.”

You hear the door to the bunk area slide open, and you and Brendon both fall silent.

“My dressing room tomorrow,” Brendon breathes into your ear. Your heat pulses, and Brendon squeezes your hip with your hand. “We have to behave until then though.”

•••

Someone snaps the curtain of your bunk open, and you flinch as harsh lighting floods the tiny space.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauties,” Zack barks right in your face. You’re glad Brendon covered you with a blanket because he’s still buried in you. “Time to get into the venue. You’re the only people not ready to go.”

Brendon grumbles and swats at him blindly. “A few more minutes.”

“Now. Or else I’m making you haul equipment.”

“C’mon, Uries, I need to shower,” Nicole whines from behind him.

You yank the curtain shut and moan deliberately loudly as you fuck yourself back on Brendon, hard from a dream.

Everyone groans. “Get a room,” someone calls.

Brendon laughs, pulling out of you with a playful moan. You roll out of bed, only wearing soaked panties and a thin t-shirt.

Brendon follows behind you a few seconds later in boxers, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of slides. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder. “Kay. I’m ready to go.”

You grab your backpack and climb on Brendon’s back. “Me too.”

“Babe, you wanna put clothes on?” an amused Brendon asks, turning his neck awkwardly to look back at you.

“Nah.”

Mike grins as everyone heads out of the bus. “Brendon, did you meet y/n on a dating site for nudists?”

You and Brendon chuckle. “Nope, he converted me,” you say affectionately, pulling his hair.

Brendon’s knees buckle. “Baby, you can’t do that while I’m holding you… or, uh, while I’m wearing loose boxers.”

You grin at how you’re affecting him, and everyone else cackles.

“Awww stop being all cute and gross and horny while I’m single,” Nicole mutters.

“I don’t foresee that happening,” you say apologetically before turning your attention back to your husband. “Hurry up, Brendon, I wanna get to the dressing room.”

•••

You slam the door to the dressing room with your foot as soon as you and Brendon get inside it. You hop off his back and peel off your shirt, exposing your bare breasts. “C’mon, babe, fuck me,” you plead. “I need you.”

Brendon rushes towards you eagerly. “I need you too. My wife, my love.” His lips collide with yours, and he shoves his hand down your panties.

Zack pounds on the door. “Open up.”

You groan in frustration and collapse on the couch, still shirtless. You hope Zack will get the message and leave you alone.

“Fuck,” Brendon mutters, opening the door.

Zack is holding a clipboard, and he does not seem apologetic that he clearly interrupted a tryst. “Brendon, you need to get dressed, you have interviews with Alternative Press, Paper, a local radio station…” Zack drones on with lists of sources that need your husband. You need your husband damnit. Your clit hasn’t stopped throbbing since you first laid eyes on him in the airport.

Brendon looks at you helplessly, his arousal draining away as it’s replaced with annoyance. “Zack, give me fifteen minutes to get dressed and finger my wife,” Brendon attempts to compromise. “Then I’m yours until showtime. I promise.”

“Okay fine, but no complaining and no sneaking off. You will go where I want when I want,” Zack says, leaving the dressing room.

Brendon closes the dressing room door and pounces on you as you shriek and giggle, grabbing his head. “Where were we?” he breathes.

“Fingers. Clit. Now,” you choke out, sliding down your panties.

Brendon takes off his hoodie. His muscled chest is bare. You stroke his stomach, relishing the way it quivers and flexes under your touch. “Baby, no,” Brendon says. “You can’t get me too worked up. This is about you.”

“I can’t get off without touching you,” you whine, stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers. You straddle Brendon’s lap, grinding on his hard cock as your lips meet his urgently. Your tongue slides into his mouth and you soak in his familiar taste. “I’ve missed this mouth.” You roll on him, relishing the feeling of his throbbing thickness under you.

“You feel so good,” he sighs in bliss. “But, baby, you’re not going to come like this in time. Let me get a finger on your clit.”

“Don’t wanna come without you,” you pout, rocking back and forth on his shaft.

Brendon looks at the clock before he shoves his boxers down. You slide off of him onto your stomach, parallel with the couch, you suck Brendon down, fighting off your gag reflex triumphantly. You spread your legs, and Brendon gets the message, reaching between them to bring them under you to finger you.

You squeeze his base while you catch your breath through your nose before you swallow the rest of his pulsing cock. You suck hard as you pull back, your tongue pressing right against a sensitive vein. He bucks up and you moan around him, sending a thrill through his whole body. You taste precome as his fingers speed up on your clit.

“So greedy, babe, you love my cock,” he says in wonderment. You snort, his cock is perfect, but you don’t love it nearly as much as he loves your pussy. “God, play with my dick, rub my tip.”

You continue to bob on his cock, tonguing at his tip on your upstrokes, until he hisses. “Shit baby, about to come,” and you pull off his dick completely. “Wha- baby baby what have to come,” he says all in one breath.

You cackle, sitting up and sliding away from him. “Nope. You’re still in trouble. And you only have two minutes to get dressed. You can come after your show.”

Brendon sputters, looking down at his dick helplessly. “Y/n. Do you know what happened to the last girl to give me blue balls?”

You nod, half a cheeky grin on your face. “Oh I know. Never talked to that girl again. But,” you lean in close to whisper right in his ear while you grab his cock firmly, “you weren’t legally bound with her.” His cock twitches and leaks precome like a faucet. You squeeze his base hard, worried he’ll come even with as little stimulation as you’re giving him. “Behave, Urie,” you purr, “or I’ll put on the cock ring. Can’t have you coming before you do it in my tight pussy.”

Zack raps on the door impatiently. “One minute warning, B.”

Brendon limps awkwardly to his bag and pulls out a pair of jeans, which he can barely close and zip over his erection. The fabric strains noticeably, a small dark spot already forming over his tip. “Fuck,” he groans. “This isn’t going to work. Everyone is going to see.”

You lick your lips, approaching him. “Hm, as much as I would love everyone seeing how big and hard my husband gets for me,” you start. You unzip his cock, and he sighs in relief.

“Are you going to get me off?” he asks hopefully.

You scoff, pointing his dick straight up and pressing to his stomach before closing his jeans over it. His head peeks out the top. You hand him the biggest shirt he owns, so there’s not a great chance of him accidentally exposing himself. “I don’t want you too uncomfortable, baby. Plus, I don't want any of those interviewers getting too nosy.” You kiss his nose. “My boy.”

Brendon pulls you in for a real kiss, tender and chaste. “I’ll miss you, baby,” he sighs.

You rest the palm of your hand against his cheek. “I’ll be right here, love, go do your job.”

•••

“This song is called Middle of a Breakup, and I’m dedicating it to my beautiful wife in the audience tonight,” Brendon says into the microphone, walking around on stage with his confident swagger. The audience goes nuts, and you grin. They all know how much he loves you. “Not, uh, not because we’re breaking up, but because I fucking love having sex with her.” The audience explodes, the loudest they’ve been all night, and Brendon shoots a wink right at you. He sings the beginning of the song, and you watch with pride. “Oh shit, you’re grabbing my hips, drenching my cock, now I remember why we feel in love…” Brendon sings next, maintaining steady eye contact with you. Well those aren’t the words. The entire arena shrieks in elation, completely drowning out the next twenty seconds of the song. A girl in the front row begs Brendon to have her babies.

You grin. As much as they want him, he’s all yours.

“Oh shit, you’re getting me hard, making me come…” He brings his left hand down to his thigh, pressing quickly and drawing even more attention to his perfect cock. You need him. The crowd is going insane, and Brendon is feeding off of their energy. You scream right along with them. Brendon shoots another suggestive look at you.

He loves to make you scream.

•••

“Inside me, now,” you plead when Brendon finally retreats offstage. You don’t care about everyone milling around him.

“Yes,” he pants, “I need you.”

You both make a bee-line to the showers, which are blessedly empty. Brendon strips, slips on the shower shoes you brought for him, and gets under the spray. You lean against the wall, scanning his body with your eyes. God, he’s so hard. “Bren, you wanna touch yourself?” you offer.

He shakes his head. “Just want your pussy on me as soon as possible.” He finishes showering, and you hand him a towel to wrap around his waist. He has to press cock against his stomach again to keep him from completely tenting the towel. He presses you against the wall, and brings his lips down to yours. “My dressing room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You run to Brendon’s dressing room, both of you giggling like teenagers even though you’re hardly getting away with anything. As soon as you’re in the relative privacy of the locked room, you cling to each other, devouring each other’s mouths roughly as he peels off your clothes. “How do you want my cock, baby?” Brendon asks.

“Hard. From behind.” You walk to the vanity, which is taller than usual, and you bend over it. You brace yourself against the surface. You see him shed his towel and approach you in the mirror. You spread your legs wider in anticipation. He presses against your entrance, and you gasp, moving your hips back against him to try to take more of him in. “Bren,” you whine, “fuck me.”

He thrusts forward to fill you, every throbbing inch making you moan. He moves until his hips are flush against your ass.

“Oh, fuck that’s so satisfying,” you say.

“So tight. So wet,” Brendon chokes out. He grabs your hips hard, giving him even better leverage. You love the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. “Do you feel good

“Incredible,” you pant. “Your cock is the perfect size. Fills me just right. And so thick. I’m so stretched.” You admire him in the mirror. His hair is a mess, and he’s flushed from his neck down. He’s pouring all of his post-show adrenaline into fucking you hard and fast. “You’re beautiful, Brendon.”

“You’re the beautiful one. And you look especially good taking my cock. Your eyes are all wild and desperate, and your mouth is so pretty when it falls open to moan my name,” he gasps, and you blush despite yourself. You duck your head down. “Baby, let me compliment my beautiful wife,” Brendon says.

You tilt your head back up, so he can look at you. “Fine. Thank you, Bren.” Brendon kisses your neck in appreciation. Your cunt squeezes around him rapidly, and Brendon shuts his eyes in bliss as his head tips back. “Bren, keep your eyes open, baby, you have such beautiful eyes,” you request.

Brendon slows slightly as he forces his eyes open, exhaling hard through his nose. He takes a second before resuming his practically bruising speed.

“Good boy, show me how much you missed me.”

Brendon grins. “You love it like this, don’t you, baby? Rough and messy.” He shifts the angle of his hips to hit your g-spot, and your knees buckle.

“Fuck. You know I do. Love your cock however I can get it though,” you answer. “I hate to be apart from you, but I love coming back together. You feel so big.”

“And you’re so much more sensitive too. You’re squeezing my cock like crazy.” He reaches around you to rub your clit.

“Fuck me harder, Brendon. Faster. Let me come,” you beg.

Brendon moans. “Come on my cock, baby.”

You cry out in ecstasy and collapse forward onto the vanity. “You make me come so hard, Brendon,” you shriek.

Brendon chuckles. “Yeah, people definitely heard that, love.” He pulls out of you, and you turn around to pepper his face with kisses.

“I don’t care,” you giggle. “How do you want to come?” you ask him. “You’ve been a good boy, you can come however you want.”

“On your knees please, babe, wanna come in your mouth.”

You drop to your knees eagerly, suckling his tip. Brendon starts to jerk himself off, but you swat his hand away, replacing it with your own. Your own slickness aids you as you jack him.

“Baby, gonna come,” he warns before hot come floods your mouth. You swallow him eagerly while he moans, grasping your hair.

Brendon helps you to your feet, and you both collapse on the couch intertwined. “You’re incredible,” Brendon marvels.

“So I’ve been told,” you giggle, tracing down his arm.

The band barges into the dressing room, and you both groan. “You’re ruining our afterglow,” you whine.

Nicole rolls her eyes. “C’mon, we’re going to an afterparty at some label guy’s mansion. Get up. You can fuck at home.”

Zack nods. “Yes please, you two need to learn how to behave and keep your hands to yourselves. A night of illegal drugs will be good for you.”

You smirk, turning to Brendon. “Hey Brendon?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you happen to know how many bedrooms this mansion has?”

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie x reader #long post

[thelooneytoon]

Do you guys ever just read so many imagines/oneshots that you kind of forget that this person isn’t really your significant other, and then you go awhile without being able to read them and you’re like “I miss my spouse”? Or am I just mentally ill.

#imagines #oneshots #x reader #fanfiction #loving a celebrity #celebrities #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie #y/n #ao3 #wattpad #harry styles #tom holland #gerard way #andy biersack #sebastian stan #fandoms #lonely #p!atd #mcr #bvb #marvel #music

[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

[topimagines]

Tip Toes

Summary: I’m on my tip toes, trying to see past my ego. Reaching for something more than this feeling of being important. Leaving my heart behind is bleeding, but my pride is screaming. My future will listen to me, listen to me.

Warning: I wanted to write angst, but this came out. IDK how to label it. Listen to tip toes by half alive while reading. issa long one

Y/n had not dated much. Actually, she did not start looking for a relationship until her freshman year of college. By then there weren’t many people she talked to and considered a friend; therefore, the idea of dating someone, being close to someone that was not her friend, did not pique her interest. Around the time she met Brendon and Sarah, she had lost all hope in a romantic relationship. It almost seemed too good to be true, a truly happy relationship seemed unattainable.

This feeling came in waves, making her feel nauseous like she was on a boat in a hurricane. It became truly difficult to accept a happy reality that ended in kids of her own and a husband or wife, but she knew it was just about impossible. Her best friends were a married couple and a gay man (who was also in a happy relationship), they always rooted for her. But they didn’t understand, she was a twenty-something-year-old who had no idea how to even kiss someone. Everyone always told her (especially her friends) that it was admirable that she held out for so long like she was waiting for the right person or something.

In other words, y/n would describe herself as the biggest virgin on earth, and it genuinely was from a lack of trying.

It almost felt as if her own future didn’t belong to her.

Some days were better than others, just like the day Sarah asked her to come to hang out at her house. y/n had just gotten done with finals, so she had basically a month of sitting around and waiting for the Spring semester to finally start. Sarah and Brendon cuddled on the couch, y/n on the chair in the corner of the room actually watching the movie and trying to not pay attention to the couple that was no doubt finger banging each other under the blanket they shared.

“I think I should go,” y/n said, “I have to work in the morning so I can’t stay up too late.” She stretched her arms and legs when she got up from the chair. Sarah seemed to be frightened out of a daze when she looked up at her friend.

“Oh, okay!” Sarah chirped, pushing Brendon away from her, “Do you want me to walk you out?”

y/n shook her head, “no thanks, I’m fine.”

“Well… I’ll see you later?” Sarah asked. Y/n didn’t really want to. It wasn’t that she didn’t like hanging out with them, they always made her feel lonely. And sad. But mostly lonely.

“I don’t know, I have a busy week at the hospital; I will text you when I get time,” y/n said before bidding the couple goodbye and leaving the house.

Sarah looked at her husband, who had gotten entranced by the movie in the five minutes since he was trying to sneak his hand into her pants. “You are such an idiot.”

“What did I do?”

-

Y/n got home that night very confused about her feelings. Her brain was spiraling out of control with delusions of being married and having someone who would dote on her the same way Brendon did Sarah. At the same time, she never really paid attention to them behind the scenes, so maybe they’re dysfunctional and she never saw it.

That didn’t make sense, if she knew one thing about the couple, it was that they talked about everything. And Sarah told her everything, every fight they had, Sarah would go to y/n’s apartment and sit until Brendon sulked his way over.

Every time she thought about the couple, she got a weird sensation of butterflies in her stomach.

No, she thought, I am not developing a stupid crush just because I’m sad and lonely.

That night she couldn’t sleep; it didn’t help that she knew she did have work in the morning and the hospital was unforgiving when the lab techs were late. By the time she finally stopped swimming in her thoughts, she had dreams of her friends, holding her hand and kissing her on the forehead.

It was 6 AM before she knew it, and she had to get up and get ready for work.

Hopefully, tea would help wake her up before she got to work and did a piss poor job.

-

Y/n had never been more appreciative of the hospital. She had fond memories of staying there, almost dying, meeting so many different doctors that she just didn’t have it in her to leave.

Sarcasm, that was the key to understanding her outlook on life. Constant use of sarcasm.

But she would be lying if she said that today, and every day for the past week, she was so glad they had a week full of emergencies and a trip planned for a conference with Lab Technologists across the country. This trip would take her to Boston and all she could think of was the idea of seeing every museum she could for one full week and going to a conference full of people who had a thorough understanding of microbiology and hematology. It was almost enough to make her come in her jeans.

What she did not appreciate, was Brendon coming to visit her while she was supposed to be working. She had just gotten a lab sample to test for any drug she could when Brendon waltzed in with In N Out in his hand. He greeted her with a hug and handed her the bag.

“Sarah is at work,” he sighed, “she doesn’t get a lunch today because she’s busy or something, so I thought I’d visit my bestie.” She was too distracted to notice what he was saying. Brendon tried to call her name, the third time she snapped.

“What do you want?” she half yelled, looking away from her specimen.

Brendon looked taken aback; he didn’t even know how to reply when he has never seen her so angry before. Her coworker, a younger man by the name of Jeremy Ren, looked up from his microscope and stepped over to her area.

“L/n, you go take your lunch break, I’ll take care of this shotgun,” he took the test tubes and brought them back to his microscope with him, still eyeing the two.

She scoffed and stomped out, ditching her lab coat at the door. She led Brendon to the hospital cafeteria and sat down with him in the corner.

“What’s wrong? You usually aren’t so…” Brendon trailed off, “Are you still being overworked? Have you talked to your boss about time off?”

Y/n shook her head, “I’m just… fine, I’m fine.” Internally, she cringed. If she talked to him about it, maybe she could resolve the war she had inevitably put herself into.

But the idea of not telling him anything was far more appealing. Nothing had to change.

“Are you sure? You look tired, have you been sleeping?” He reached over and grabbed her hand, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

God, Brendon, she thought, Stop being so caring, it’s not helping my situation. She pulled her hand away and tucked it under her pants. This couldn’t happen. She did everything she could to give herself a reason not to develop a stupid crush on the man in front of her. She could only come up with two.

1.       He’s married to her best friend

2.       He definitely wouldn’t see her the same way

Number two made her heart bleed. Not literally, she knew the severity of an actual bleeding heart, she worked in a hospital for Christ’s sake. But if she were to imagine the pain, this would be it.

“I’m just… excited for this trip to Boston next week,” she confessed. It wasn’t a lie by any means, she stayed up all night a month ago when she heard she was going on the trip, planning what she wanted to pack. This didn’t change the stare he had on the table where her hand used to be, and his hand still sat.

“Oh, that is coming up, isn’t it?” he put a smile on his face, trying to quickly recover from whatever feeling he felt. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit off today. We haven’t seen you all week, we miss you at the house.”

She frowned. There was an impulsive need in her to put her hand back and comfort him. But she knew she shouldn’t do it because she knew it would only make her feel worse.

“I’ve been busy with work, had a lot of emergencies and stuff,” she explained, “I’m free this weekend, I’ll try to come over before I leave for the airport on Sunday.” That was not what she wanted to say, why did she say that?

“Sounds like a plan!” he seemed happy with that suggestion though, so maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about.  “How has your week been, then? What kinda emergencies did you get?”

She and Brendon talked for a while, she told him about the guy who came in with necrotic tissue on his arm from heroin, and he told her about his charity live stream and how proud he was of everyone who donated.

Watching him so happy as he explained what happened, she felt herself swooning. They sat in silence for a few moments after he finished speaking, both focused on eating their food. One of the surgical nurses walked passed them with a smile on her face.

“Y/n, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend!” Brendon smirked and opened his mouth to explain that they weren’t a couple, but the nurse continued on, “you’re always going on about how lonely you are! It’s nice to see you’re finally getting out there.” Y/n’s eyes were wide, and a blush crept across her cheeks.

“Uh… thank you, Andrea,” she said with a shaky voice.

“So proud of you, my dear,” Andrea smiled brightly t the two before she walked away, bidding them goodbye.

“You’re lonely?” Brendon asked when Andrea was out of earshot.

y/n couldn’t speak as she stared at her fries, the only response she gave was a small nod.

“Why are you lonely? You never date… or expressed a desire… to date.” Damn you, Sarah, she thought, that was supposed to be a secret.

“well… lately, it’s been a bit different,” she sighed, “I’m almost 30, I’ve never been on a real date or…. Done anything, really. I thought I’d at least have a boyfriend by now.” That was easier to get off her chest than she thought.

“You’ve never done anything? Not even like… a kiss?” Brendon knew he was badgering her now, but this was so unbelievable to him. She was so smart and beautiful; how could anyone look passed her?

She shook her head, eyes still on the fries that were no longer steamy, “Can we drop it please?”

Brendon took in the shakiness to her tone and decided to drop it like she asked. This topic would definitely come up later with Sarah, though. He had so many more questions.

When they parted ways after lunch, Brendon couldn’t hold back a smile as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. She blushed harder than she had at lunch when she said bye to him. No one, besides her parents and grandparents, had ever kissed her on the cheek.

She kind of liked it.

-

Sarah told Brendon everything he wanted to know. She didn’t know why, at first, but he explained what happened during lunch.

“But you can’t badger her or make her feel bad,” Sarah emphasized, “She always felt self-conscious about it, even after we became friends.” Brendon understood, even though he never had to deal with stuff like that. He had lost his virginity early on, and everything just came naturally after that.

“I would never.”

-

“So, what’s with you never dating anyone?” He had promised not to pry, but now it was late at night in y/n’s apartment and he had more than a few drinks in his system. Sue him, he wanted to hang out and she brought out the wine.

“I just… don’t do it?” y/n had a few drinks in her too, the wine was making her feel like being truthful. If she were sober, she wouldn’t be telling hi anything, but maybe she needed to get it off her chest? Drunk y/n thought so, anyway. “I didn’t get my first boyfriend until my freshman year of college, and before that, I only had minor flings with girls from my school. I don’t know, dating always makes me anxious.”

“And you’ve never done anything?” He knew her answer already. This was beginning to get repetitive and even drunk y/n was fed up with it.

“Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because it’s… it’s so rare! You’re like a unicorn!” he laughed at his comparison. She shook her head, she felt kind of offended, but she knew what he was saying. He hadn’t meant it to be an insult at all, he was kind of proud of her, even with pressures that a woman date and be married by her age, she didn’t feel that. She was unabashedly herself.

He didn’t know what came over him when he opened his mouth next, “I mean, I can always help you.”

y/n looked into his eyes, and she swore that if she were a meme, she would have question marks floating around her head. “What?”

“I mean if you ever want your first kiss… or something else… I can always help you,” he didn’t know why he was saying it, but he couldn’t help but offer. The offer was outlandish, yes, but he knew Sarah would be alright with it. She had mentioned before how much she liked y/n, in a more than platonic way.

Before this whole topic came up, Brendon was planning on asking her to be their third, if she wanted to be. However, she told him she hadn’t dated someone very seriously.

“But… wh- h- Sarah?” y/n was blushing, her face and ears were bright red. This was not how she expected this to go.

“She would want to do the same thing, she has a thing for you,” drunk Brendon was an honest Brendon, apparently, “was gonna ask you if you wanted to go on a date with us the other day but obviously I didn’t.”

Y/n didn’t know what to say. Like, of course, he had to do this when she was drunk and couldn’t very well keep her thoughts to herself.

“Um…. Are you asking me now if I want to go on a date with you and Sarah?” y/n asked.

“Well, that wasn’t my first question,” Brendon leaned closer, and cupped her face with his left hand, “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.” He continued leaning in, slowly but surely. He waited for her to protest; when she didn’t say anything, he finally connected their lips. If he were to compare all of his other kisses to the one right then, she wouldn’t be the worst. She was inexperienced, but her lips were soft and tasted like peppermint from her seasonal chapstick.

When she pulled away, he almost chased after her.

For the rest of the night, he explained the logistics of kissing, and eventually, they both fell asleep on the couch after he went on the the longest tangent on what kind of guitar he would get now that his “cream dream" was gone.

-

She left for Boston after saying goodbye to Brendon or Sarah. She had also talked to Robert (her other best friend) the day before the trip; he yelled at her for not telling him right away about everything that had been happening. To be genuinely honest, she needed this vacation after her night with Brendon.

It was a relief when Brendon left in the morning after they had kissed. The memory of her first kiss still burned in the back of her mind, but she didn’t want to focus on that. Right now, it was her time to relax.

That was until Brendon texted her asking what hotel she was at. She told him, just assuming he wanted to make sure she got there safe. Why would she think anything else?

She should have thought of something else. Now she was sitting in her room, scrolling through the TV when she heard the knock at the door.

He didn’t, she thought, please tell me he didn’t.

She opened the door and saw the couple standing in front of her with giant smiles on their faces.

He did.

“what are you doing here?” she said instead of greeting them.

Sarah let herself in, “we wanted to surprise you! You’ve wanted this vacation for a while, and we thought you’d want company!”

She really didn’t want company, but she put a smile on her face anyway.

-

After spending the whole week with Brendon and Sarah, y/n was exhausted. She only got a real break from the two when she was at the conference. They had both wished her luck that morning and went back to giggling under the blankets of their shared bed.

Now she was back in Los Angeles, and she was so fucking happy to go back to normal.

However, they didn’t necessarily go back to normal. Brendon spent a lot more time at her apartment than he used to. He started to initiate cuddling, press kisses to her cheek and hairline, and hugging her more than he used to. She started to see more of Sarah, as well. She did it more subtly. She bought y/n drinks and take her to fancy restaurants, surprises her with jewelry and takes her shopping, anything really.

All y/n wanted was for one of them to say something.

And when she least expected it, Brendon did.

“Have you ever wanted to lose your virginity?” Brendon asked during a movie one day. y/n shrugged, she couldn’t say she was surprised, she knew he would ask eventually.

“I guess,” she sighed, “its just not something I really let myself think about. I never thought anyone would… y’ know, want to. And I’m 28, no one wants to date a virgin at my age.”

“Don’t say that,” he took her hand in his. Recently, it had been his sign of comfort to lace his fingers with hers and rub his thumb along the back, “I already told you, me and Sarah love you…”

y/n couldn’t look up at him, she only stared at her fingers. She didn’t say anything, either.

“you never answered, you know,” he whispered, “let us take you on one date. A fancy restaurant, or a movie, whatever makes you least anxious.”

y/n shook her head. The feeling of drowning, even before saying yes, was obvious. She felt like she couldn’t breathe and had to remind herself how to focus on the feeling of his hand in hers.

“or, we can keep it low key, not label it… just the three of us?”

“um… okay..” y/n thought, “no labeling, just… just us. Let’s go see the new Jumanji.”

“That sounds perfect,” Brendon smiled down at y/n.

Maybe her future did belong to her.

#brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie x reader #sarah urie x reader #sarah urie imagine

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞. (𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬)

CHAPTER ONE: SURRENDER

CHAPTER TWO: YOU AND GOD

CHAPTER THREE: PRETEXT

CHAPTER FOUR: NO ACCIDENT

CHAPTER FIVE: CHAIN OF EVENTS

CHAPTER SIX: COME AND SPEAK TO ME

CHAPTER SEVEN: DROP

CHAPTER EIGHT: IN THE ATMOSPHERE

CHAPTER NINE: IT’S NOT FAIR

CHAPTER TEN: LET ME KNOW

CHAPTER ELEVEN: AT THE OVERPASS

CHAPTER TWELVE: FIGHTING

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: NO MORE WAR

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: IT HURTS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: I’M THE ONLY ONE TO BLAME

#brendon urie #brendon urie x reader #bodyguard!brendon #Panic at the Disco #Panic! at the Disco #patd #p!atd #marvel #band #Band Member #Band Members #band member imagines #band imagines #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #emo #EMO TRINITY #emo quartet #emo imagines #music #celeb #celebrities #reader insert #x reader