Brendon Urie Imagines.

Instagram.

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"perverts" Brendon laughed, scrolling down on his phone.

"perverts?" I questioned,  glancing at him.

He nodded, smirking. "they have a video of me pouring champagne on my head as they zoomed in on my rock hard boner" he chuckled, looking at me.

"oh," I wiped my hands on my apron,  picking up my phone when he turns his attention to his. 

I went on instagram, scrolling to see the video. I found the video, turning down the volume. The zoom in on his boner part made me giggle, getting his attention.

"what?"

"um," I blushed, grinning. "nothing,  just remembered how we switched it up that night" I half lied.

We did switch it up though

He got up, getting behind me. He held my waist, kissing below my ear. "we could try it again"

"Babe, I'm cooking. Don't want dinner to be burnt, do you?" I smiled, holding his head.

"I wouldn't mind, everything you cook taste good" he mumbled, kissing lower.

I closed my eyes, biting back a moan. I turned around, patting his chest.

"after dinner, yeah?"

He nodded, going into the living room.

I looked back at the pan, stirring the chicken. I switched the heat to low heat, getting back on my phone.

The video replayed, showing his boner again. I went down to the comments, reading about how he has a big dick, how they want him to fuck them, how it's not a bad dick, and how I can(t) handle that big ass dick.

Everything my man has is big, so I don't know why they are so surprised about his dick..

I kept reading them, chuckling. I saw one that caught my eye, making me cringe.

"y/n can't handle his big ass dick, he should come over to my house so a real woman can handle his dick" I mocked, putting my phone down.

"what was that?" he asked, looking through the fridge.

"babe, do you think I handle your dick well?" I mumbled, picking up the wooden spoon.

He furrowed his brows, looking at me. "wait, what?"

"do you think I can handle your dick well?" I spoke up, saying with the spoon.

"of course, cupcake.  You're the best I've ever had" he said,  cringing when he grabbed the milk.

"seriously?"

"seriously" he said, grabbing the front loops box.

I smiled slightly, cupping his face.  I leaned in, kissing him softly. He kissed back, biting my bottom lip. I slipped in my tongue, roaming his mouth. He groaned lowly, running his hand up my shirt. I ran my hand through his hair, tugging gently.

He pushed me up against the fridge, lifting my leg up.

"You left the milk out" I muttered.

He shrugged, "the milk can wait for a few minutes"

"Brendon, it will go too waste"

He pulled back and took the milk, I moved out the way. He put it back in the fridge, closing the door.

I stirred the chicken once more, putting the spoon on a napkin. I took the top of the pan from the cabinet and put it on. I sat on the counter, pointing at him.