Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

...While Slowly Ending the Tease... (Hawaii p 3/5)

"Brendon...you have no idea...how much I want to." You shake your head, fanning your hair over him even more, tickling him. He's such a giggler, so you do it again. He bats at it, like a kitten, before twirling it around his finger. You give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away when he tries to french kiss you, but to thrust yourself against him, kissing along his jaw until he turns his head, catching your mouth. He grabs your plump ass, pulling you to him more, moaning, starting to move against you too. You wonder if either of your can get off like this, jeans still on, you between his legs. The thought sends even more heat through you, and you're so aroused it's hurting. You wonder if he's feeling as needy as you, if his dick and balls are aching for it. You kind of want to blow him, just rip off his pants and suck him down, lick him, jerk him, squeeze his balls, stroke his thighs.... "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Brendon...If I... I need to, too. Won't leave me hanging?"

He shakes his head, looking confused for a second, then his face softens. "No, babe, course not." He kisses you, fiercely considering the pot, gripping your ass, rolling you on him. "You really want to come now, huh? Tell me how to make you feel good. What d'you need me to do? Fuck, wanna make you come..." His other hand found it's way between you, undoing the button and fly on your jeans, then the fucker just goes to your lower belly, rubbing slow circles. He's going to make you say it.

"Fuck, your hand would be great." You move away, onto your knees and elbows, open your thighs more, spreading his more too, giving him better access as he slides his hand briefly over, then under, your panties.

"Damn, y/n, you're juicy all over ain't ya?" He squeezes your ass again, slides down to your thigh, bringing the point home, but you're not feeling embarrassed at your size, how not just your tits and ass, but thighs, belly, are pretty big, because he's sliding his fingers between your lips, just teasing. He brushes over your clit a couple times, but it seems accidental.

You got over your chubbiness, but not, well the lights being on, because his next words make you a bit anxious. "Fuck, wanna taste it." He drags his fingers away, wet fingers brushing over your shirt as he brings them to his lips. "Gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?"

He must pick up on it, because he says "Only if you want. Sorry if I'm going too fast--"

"In the light? Like with the lights on?"

"We can do it any way you want, darlin."

"I-I'm kind of...embarrassed about it, y'know. With someone new."

"You shouldn't be, y/n. You're fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, "but want you to feel comfortable, want you to let go. If you want it that way, babe." He swats your thigh, to get you to move off him, and he runs to turn the light off, and you miss feeling him, his heat, already. "Shit," he says after bumping into a table on his way back.

"Here, I'll turn the lamp on."

"Well, fuck, why didn't I think of that?"

"This is your brain on drugs," you joke.

He giggles, bouncing on the bed beside you, rolling over to face you. "Not going to beat around the bush here, but--" he cuts off, laughing, realizing his double entendre as you giggle too, moving closer, kissing over his face, smooshing your noses together, thumbs stroking over his cheeks--"but, as I was saying before, and this is my serious face, ok--" and he makes this total goofball face.

He stops talking when you pull away to move things along, taking your shirt and sports bra off in one go, heavy breasts finally free. You are feeling less self-conscious than you usually would the first time with a guy, because he's looking at you like he absolutely adores you. "Fuck, y/n... You're beautiful babe. Gonna let me see more?" The lamp light is subtle, and he's just stroking over your belly, over your stretchmarks, just brushing over your panties, not trying to get your capris and underwear off, and you find yourself thinking he can at least see you pantsless. You pull them off, and his hands quickly run over your thighs too, and you're not really worried about your stretchmarks anymore, or him seeing your round belly and fat thighs, or how brown your areolas...and other parts are because his hands feel so good--how are they so soft?--and you're hurting again with how bad you want to come.

"B? D-does the offer...still stand?"

He nods, whispers "fuck yeah" as his hands glide over your pelvis, one thumb finding where your lips meet through the cotton. He bites his lip, moaning "Fuck, y/n, you're so wet. Can feel it already." He looks up at you, just putting his fingertips underneath your panties, not moving, until you nod and push yourself against them, and he grins, fingers slipping between your labia. You're so wet you can sometimes hear his fingers swirling through your slick, making circles from top to bottom on up again.

"Fuck, Brendon, fuck," you moan, and he's still looking at your face, other hand stroking over your breasts, belly, coming to rest just above the hemline. Your eyes snap shut, hand seeking his, forgetting your nervous first time jitters, guiding two of his fingers higher up on your clit, almost above it, to rub slow, gentle circles, sliding the covering skin over the clit itself. He catches on quick, and your hand leaves his to grip your hip, under the cotton, as you fling an arm over your forehead. Your breathing deepens, and you move against him, trying to keep it nice and easy. Your body still feels languid anyway, so you feel less desperate than when you're not stoned.

This evening has been a big tease, since the bar, and you don't want to rush it, but you fucking want it, are so ready for an orgasm or a few to rush over you. And he's doing such a good job so far, free hand palming over your belly, sliding down to gently push on your bladder, and wow, ok, how does he know about that? "D-did you like that?" You nod, and he does it again, keeping his hand down, adding to your arousal. "I had one girl show me that a few years ago. I had no idea feeling like you had to piss could turn some girls on so much."

"I-It's--it's the bladder pushing against--oh fuck--internal parts of the clit. Like how some girls like fingers--shit, B--pushing on their front wall. Same idea..." You can talk more about that later, if he wants, but you're getting closer and closer, and just want to concentrate on that. What a terrible moment for his fingers to slip a bit. It's not much; he probably didn't even realize he did, but it sends a little pain through you. You tense a bit, and he senses it.

"What's wrong?" he lets up on your bladder and stills his fingers, just touching you now.

You tilt your pelvis down, reaching your hand out to lift his fingers back to the just right spot. "There we go," you sigh. You start feeling it build through your vulva and you take the hand that's currently splayed over your curls, putting them into a loose fist. "Could you--the lips, with your knuckles?" He quickly obliges, almost shoving your panties aside, and you can hear the trim tear. "Yyyeah, circles there too. Fuck." You start moving against him.

"Should I go faster or harder, or you gonna work yourself off on my hands, babe? So hot." He's sitting between your legs, his spread underneath yours, looking right at your crotch and his hands as you both move to get you off.

"I think you're doing good, but as I need it harder, I can manage." You know it must be hard for him to keep both hands coordinated. "Really good, Brendon. Shit."

You wonder what he can see, if he can see how brown and purpley, darker than your nipples and areola, your labia are. The colour normally embarrasses you, but he would've caught sight of them, handling you like he has, sneaking peaks, and he didn't look weirded out. He looked into getting you off, eager, and hungry. You're reminded of his words from earlier, him saying he wanted to eat you out, and that gets you even closer.

You're starting to seize up, legs shaking, so fucking close. You reach down, hand just gentling the top one a bit as you can't help moving your pelvis, then you freeze, ass almost in the air, your pussy swelling even more, both your hands on his to get that last corner of your orgasm off. Your head is pounding, and so is everywhere else. You can feel your vagina rhythmically squeezing as you burst. "Oh, fuck Brendon. Fuck. Godgodgod." You start to come down, gasping for breath, licking your lips, entwining your hands over your mound. You can't help still moving against your hands a little.