Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

An Honest Man, or: He'll Take Pussy on His Face 1/?

Shamelessly inspired by the video and pics here https://warmbeebosoftbeebo.tumblr.com/post/178258882870/warmbeebosoftbeebo-quirky-broll

---

You're watching him from the side of the stage, in those tight pants, topless, sweaty, giggly, awkward and random but sweet, that purple masquerade mask, flirty and smiley... Whoo boy. When he says "I'll wear a pussy on my face..." and that he needs a massage, to a male fan's "I'll massage you!" you are so done for. He is no doubt inspiring thousands of feelings down there girls and even women probably can't quite name and thousands of fantasies with that sentence alone. Unable to help wriggling around, you rock your thighs and labia together, clenching, grinding, hoping no one notices, wishing you had him to grind on.

He comes off stage, winking at you through that masquerade mask, and the sparkles on it match his lit up, excited, playful eyes. He pulls you into a big, hot, sweaty hug, nuzzling against your neck, ear, but you melt into it, smelling him, pressing your mound on him along with the rest of you.

He chuckles, "You know, I wasn't kidding when I said that..."

"Said what, B? I can't imagine what you're talking about..." Playing dumb, but you shift so you're slotted together thigh to crotch as you say it. Your hands card through his wet hair as he sucks on your neck. "Fuck, B, can't decide if i want to send my sweaty, smelly boy to the shower or—"

"Or what? Join me there?" You had been rocking you both gently together, massaging down his shoulders, back, but he switches to a grind, rubbing his dick against your thigh, circling his thigh subtly, muscles flexing, against your core. "Or do you want me to show you what an honest man I am first, sweat n all?"

He had certainly offered that that way before. You were hard pressed to him down, especially that, any way he offered it, but had been... embarrassed, felt weird about sitting on his face. Fuck, he could get you on your back, or sitting up, or even on your belly, angled by a pillow, no problem. That even let you hump your mound against it, rocking your clit between your labia, grazing the pillow, while he licked, rubbed your lower half up. Angled you more to get more of your cunt in his sucking mouth, his tongue inside your opening. Got you so needy, close you forgot his nose was practically on your asshole, only kind of grossed out when you were coming down from coming. You wanted him and his mouth too much too care about how you looked, or anything but how gorgeous his lips were, how good his mouth felt, imagining what it looked like: his lips, tongue on you.

You also worried for him when he asked, not wanting to suffocate him, or use him, or... You weren't a small girl: you were virtually as tall as him, over 40 pounds heavier than your tiny boy whom you often want to feed in more ways than one at 180, big and thick: thighs, ass, tummy, even your mound and labia were chubby, you thought.

But he begged for you to do it, climb up there, use his mouth, rub your pussy all over his face even. He did manage to get you on all fours or ass up in the air a few times, briefly spreading you so he could lean on one arm face up between your legs, nuzzling, kissing, licking. Moaned that you can move, make yourself feel good, like you do on his thigh, tummy, ass, dick... "My good girl..."

You certainly weren't complaining, but he'd stop, sensing your apprehension at him wanting to push you down onto his face, or get you upright. "Fuck, y/n, want you to hump my face, ride my tongue." His desperate words turning you on so much and getting you so nervous at the same time.

Even when you were rubbing off on his belly, even when he nudged you to his breasts and you were humping him there, you couldn't bring yourself to shimmy up to his face, let him taste, kiss, suck you like that.

You had to admit part of you wanted to, so bad.

"Tell me about it, B. How honest you were on stage. And those other times. M-May—I think i want to try, but you have to really want it. How much do you want to?" Those two beers are paying off, loosening your tongue, your inhibitions. You lead him to a darkened hallway.

"Fuck, you have no idea," he moans, cupping your ass, bringing you in, kissing you, tongues playing, sucking your bottom lip. "Been thinking about it so much lately, you straddling my face. Maybe one hand in my hair, the other braced on the wall or headboard..." He's kissing along your neck again, softly sucking, whispering against you. He knows that's one of your weak spots. You can feel him mostly hard and you keep rocking against each other, savouring your own building arousal.

"Rolling your hips like you can do for me when I get you crazy from eating you out in other positions. Want you to push yourself into my mouth, press my face into it—if you want, only if you want to do it like that. To know you're making yourself feel so fucking good by using my mouth however it feels best. Fuck ."

You can't help hopping up, wrapping around him, still surprised he can carry you, so glad everyone is giving you privacy.

"I love you moving against me when I'm doing it, like you can't help it." You remember those helpless hip jerks, hands pressing him close, thighs flexing around his head and shaking, grinding, rocking against his face. "Want to feel you shuddering above me like that. Teasing me too; not letting me taste. Pull away to just let me lick you a bit till you move back down, get all over my mouth and face. Your slick on my cheeks, nose, chin..."

By now you're swearing soft, panting, a lot, and he's moves you to the closest room. Thank fuck it has a big couch. You jump down, push him onto it, and he eagerly goes, bringing you with him to straddle his thigh. "Want to come like this first?" he asks between kisses as you keep grinding on his thigh, your slick getting on your underwear, easing the way . "Let's get naked so you can get yourself off on my thigh. Going to make me beg for it before you move over me, gorgeous pussy fucking over me the whole way till you're over my face? Make me use my hand too first? Or do you want to get right to it?"

You can't decide, but you want so much, so bad, you could burst. "Fuck, Bren... You've got a filthy mouth. Persuasive too."

"Or I could get these pants off and just bury my face between your thighs, maybe get you begging to come, but I won't do it right enough to get you off until you fucking make me, get me on my back and just fucking... fuck my mouth."

"Shit. Fuck...Christ..." It takes all your willpower and thinking to pull away from him, running to his dressing room instead of fucking him into next week in that random unlocked room. You back him against the closed door after locking it, hands on his shoulders, watching him, his needy eyes, heaving chest, still in that mask... He reaches out and you lean closer, and his lips find your neck again, sucking, tonguing... His hand cupping your whole pussy as you spread some, rocking as you rock back. Getting even more turned on, wetness probably soaking through your underwear, aching, needing to get off so bad it hurts. Your hand hand playing with his hair.

"How much do you want me to? Like that? As much as I want to go down on you?"

You back away from him, flinging your shirt, pants, everything off. He follows suit, and you take your gorgeous boy in as you sit on the couch, spreading your legs, feet on the cushions, then holding him at bay with a foot as you rub over your whole pussy, fingers sliding in to rub over the lower labia where you're aching the most, near the opening, palm pressed to your mound, popped out hard clit, puffy upper lips.

"Put that mask back on," you grin, and he grins back, gets it off the floor.

He sighs out his "please," gets on his knees, massaging your calf, eyes fixed between your legs. Free hand absently stroking over his thigh, cupping his balls. You can't help thinking of him in the It's Better If You Do video, the behind the scenes stuff especially. Little pup with the plush lips, alluring soft eyes, campy, awkward and friendly, easily led... Has anything really changed? You spread your fingers and slide up to give him a better look. He whimpers, fucking whimpers, sucking over his lip. "Can even smell you, fuck... Know how good you smell, taste?"

You slide through it, and suck your slick off your finger, mmmhmming. Then brush your still moist middle finger over his bottom lip. He opens up, sucking it in, eyes closing, dick twitching. You love the sight, everything: messy hair, lashes, that mask, your good boy on his knees, plush lips sucking, his pulsating, jumping dick, naked, soft but muscled, shivery with drying sweat... And the feel, his tongue laving over you, his soft but needy sucking... "C'mere, baby..."