Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

Lazy Day

Inspired by "can you do an imagine for a lazy day in the house with brendon? I just think he'd be super touchy-feely, like even before anything sexual had crossed his mind. Just playing with your hair and stroking your back, even squeezing your boobs while you're lying on the sofa watching him play video games. But you would know when he wanted more because he starts to use those lips, kissing the back of your neck and biting your collarbone and shiiiiiiiiiit" I took more creative liberties than intended, but this is what came to me.

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You don't wake up until eleven, stretching, naked skin stroking over those soft sheets. You're hungry so you roll out of bed, get some sweats and an old Tori Amos shirt on, and make your way to the kitchen.

"Hey darlin," Brendon smiles.

"Hey babe." You kiss him on the cheek as he's doing the dishes. He had the same idea for clothes, and you nuzzle over his cottoned shoulder. "My Bikini Kill shirt fits ya, huh?"

He kisses you on the lips, mmmhmming. "I just ate, but could make you something?"

You yawn, press yourself against his back, kissing his neck, as one hand finds his tummy, circling softly over, then under his shirt. He chuckles, and you can feel it against your hand and torso. "Uhhh...fruit smiley face."

He giggles more, wet hand reaching back to cup your hip, slide back further to your ass. "Not a sad face?" he jokes.

"Nope. Very smiley face. Like my boy."

He huffs, faux scandalized. "And who's this happy boy you've got on the side?" He squeezes your ass, gives it a little swat.

"The boy who I'm about to give a little hump to." You give a quick little rabbit hump to his backside, giggling, then press, grinding your mound into him. You find his happy trail, then go up to the other little strip, back down. Your tummy growls.

"Think smiley boy should make humpy girl some food," he can barely get the words out without laughing.

"I'll pick out some fruit..." You move away, and he quickly washes and dries his hands.

He sneaks up behind you as you're at the fridge. "That doesn't all look like fruit..."

"Chocolate is part of a balanced meal, B. So's this popsicle." You open it and pop it in your mouth, slyly, and his eyes flicker down to watch as you lick it, and you let out a muffled "pervert" as you slowly suck it in. You pop it out, smooch him, cold meeting warm, quickly adding tongue. You nuzzle his nose, kiss it as he squeezes you to him. "It's gonna melt..." you sigh, kiss him again, then bring it to his plump lips. He sucks it in, no preamble, and your vulva is so getting more than a little tickly. It makes his lips look even juicier. Then the fucker moans around it, looking at you, going deeper, slowly sliding off of it.

"Pervert," he answers back, winking. Licks it again, and hoists you by the bum onto the counter. "If that melts, y/n, you're not getting your smiley face." He points to his face, pouting. "Either one."

You run it over your lips, tongue over the tip, then decide to just eat the damn popsicle, biting off the end, sucking as you giggle, legs swinging to the side. "Guess it's lucky you don't melt, huh?"

"And you call me a goober." He says, arranging things beside you. "Think this smiley face should have three eyes..." Using crackers, cheese and cherries, grapes for hair, pineapple for cheeks, strawberry for a nose, split banana for a mouth--dammit you so could've used that to tease him too--chocolate for the chin. You stroke over his arm and hold his hand sometimes as he goes, sliding it between your thighs a couple times, resting. The second time, he knuckles softly over your outer labia through the sweats, then pulls away, stealing the rest of your popsicle while he's at it.