Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

All I Want for Christmas is You 5/6

to remind folks, the song referenced is the same song from the end of the last part, tenacious d's double team.

He tickles your scalp, neck with the lines about the feather and french tickler. You squeeze him to you tighter. "No toe sucking, you ain't getting offa me." The next lines have you giggling harder. And you keep him from finishing the song with your laughter, repeating "splooge" over and over in different accents, tones, volumes, then suddenly switching to "Hail Satan!"

"The question is, who's Satan?"

"Me. But you're my second in command; I rule hell, with you as my beloved consort. My beloved boy..."

If your boobs were bigger, they'd be getting smooshed, you wouldn't be able to press quite as close, squeeze him to you so much, or it'd hurt; instead they fit along him so well. Your chubbier lower belly, hips, thighs, give him some cushioning. You don't feel weirdly proportioned when you're having sex with him anymore, or when you're leaning together, hugging, lazing on the couch.

He's nuzzling over your neck when he chuckles. "I think I forgot something..."

"What?"

"Guess you can't feel it, huh?"

"Oh, the blueberry!" You clench and then you can feel it. You're tight, but not that tight. And your vaginal walls ain't your clit or labia. He faces you on his side, and you push down as a finger slides in, looking for your ok before adding a second, easing it in. You're so wet, puffy and relaxed it's easy going, letting him scoop it out easier. You like to think you're giving him a vagina hug when you squeeze him.

"You know I'll still eat it," he winks, and pops it in, sliding a different finger in for more hugs.

You turn into him, wrapping him back up, sharing the taste. "Can't decide if I wanna keep you smooshed to me or if we should get to the toys..."

"Let's do both then, hmm?"

He moves away, swaying his hips as he goes, then fucking pops his ass up in the air again as he grabs the bag, making you giggle and flex your vulva muscles "Which one first, darlin?" he murmurs, spreading the four toys out. A double bullet, a rotating rabbit, a simple slim squishy one, a handsfree butterfly...

The double bullets are different sizes: a slim longer one, barely thicker than a finger, and a egg shaped one, which you've not done together before, but the latter is still familiar so you go with that.

"Want to do the honours?" he asks after opening it and putting the batteries in and you nod.

You turn it about half way, not wanting to shock your pussy. He holds the bullets in his open palm and you both giggle as they knock together. You know you want the fat one on your upper labia and clit, but aren't sure about the slim one... You get on your knees and give B smoochies before dribbling some lube onto them and his palm. "Rub me, B..." you command gently, spreading out on your back, wriggling your hips.

He grins. "Think I'll do...this..." he answers, whole hand cupping, stroking over as much of your mound and vulva as he can get to, other hand holding the bullets by the cords, moving over your thighs, lower belly, mound, the creases where thigh meets groin. "Fuck, love the feel of your pussy," he sighs absently, and you rub up against him, grinning and mmming. And she loves the feel of you, B, you think.

He finally shifts, holding your labia, almost squishing them, as he runs the bullets over them, until you're wriggling, spreading your legs, and they dip between them, finally touching your clit. "Lucky fuckers," he winks.

"Don't be jealous, Bren," you tease back. "Wouldn't leave my bestest boy for a toy or two..."

"What about five of them?" he jokes.