Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

Birthday Boys Need to Eat 1/?

The first part of mafia!B Vegas Lights is also up! :)

---

Last year, your first birthday together, you gave him that cake with the 69 and 420 candles. He loved it, laughing as he ate it, sly winks as he hammed up licking and sucking the cake off of them. You wanted to top it this year, in a way you couldn't do publicly, or even in front of friends. "Hope you leave room for desert," you whisper in his ear over lunch at the Thai restaurant just the two of you went to. "Got quite the treat for you."

He lights up at that, winking, bites his lip. "I think I'm looking at said treat, huh? Well, indirectly," he murmurs, looking around as his hand slides up your thigh, fingertips just brushing over where thigh meets groin.

You blush, gaze shifting to his devil grin. Those lips, and tongue--they are such a treat for you too. All of him is. "The cake's at home this time. But, yeah, after that..." you trail off, grinning, hand squeezing his over your thigh as the waitress stops by to ask how things are going. When she leaves, Brendon's knuckles graze purposefully over your crotch as he pulls away. You pull his hand back. "Such a tease." You're smiling, as much as he is, and you just look at each other, goofy grins and all, between kisses as he teases between your thighs, and you try to keep it together.

"I better leave lots of room for dessert. Want to just get the rest to go?"

---

You take off his glasses and blindfold him when you get him at the dining room table. "Want it to be a surprise."

You set the cake down. "Want a hint, hon?" He nods, grinning, so you say "Think it's my turn to tease," sliding a hand up his thigh, kissing those plump lips as you just go between caressing his thighs and his crotch. When you palm him more firmly he bucks into it.

"What kind of hint is this?" he gasps, kissing you, own hand sliding over your breast, belly, rocking over your mound. You're seriously thinking of leaving your plan for later tonight.

"Oh, I think I just gave it away...Got something for you to eat."

He giggles, licks his lips, undoing your slacks. "Not talking about the cake anymore, huh?"

You get up, take his hand, lead him to the couch, bring him down on top of you, humping him as you kiss.

He pulls away, getting on his knees, taking your pants with him. "I can keep the blindfold on...?" he asks, palming you through the satin as you move against him, moving your legs up to hold your thighs open, your yes breathless. He runs cautious hands over your legs, finding his way, noses along a thigh, then dives right in, sucking you through the fabric.

"Fuck, B, fuck." Your hands play with his hair, pressing him firmer to you. What a luscious mouth. He presses the flat of his tongue over you, letting you hump it, so turned on it hurts, wishing your damn underwear were gone. "Please..." you moan, and he's pulling them off, throwing them...onto the tv stand. Your laughter turns into an "oh fuuuck" as he licks softly from bottom to top, over and over, as you roll into it easily, arousal washing over you, building, close to as good as an actual orgasm. An amazing tease so good it wasn't a tease, but a wonderful reward in itself. God, you could do this for hours. His fucking mouth.

He moans against you as you pant and shake, starting to sweat, grabbing your hips, ass, thighs, tilting you more into his mouth, pressing his tongue inside, then carefully massaging where your tender and aching, the bulbs underneath the outside on either side of your opening. "Oh god...Brendon...fuck..." One hand manages to keep petting his hair as your other goes up to the couch arm, fingers pressing in on both, trying to go light on his scalp, tensing up. Your legs rest on his shoulders, pelvis following his mouth. Damn, if he touched your clit for about ten seconds, you'd be coming. You can't decide whether to just keep him on the lower half, just lapping briefly over your clit, mostly on your upper labia, or to get him licking or--oh shit--suckling your clit, or to touch yourself. To just revel in the intense arousal or fucking come. You bet two would hit in a row, maybe three.

You're making these noises, whimpers and moans and swears, still rocking, pressing his tongue firmer against the left bulb, providing such exquisite, intense sensations. You used to think there must be something there, like there must be something near your bladder that could be pressed on with crooked fingers or bulbed toys that often felt amazing, or when you really wanted it, were soaked and had come some already, especially when you kind of needed to pee, a dick too, but it felt even better than that, second only to your clit. You wished you had looked it up before you were fucking twenty-six, had seen diagrams of internal clitoral anatomy that explained so much and gave you more ideas when you were a precocious preteen. His tongue slides over to the other side, thumb taking its place, tongue sliding in again, slurping back over you--"wanna swallow you up, y/n..." On your clit, and either or both sides of your opening at the same time? Holy fuck. Those orgasms were generally the strongest, the arousal most intense. Sometimes too much. Judging by how he got when you had lubed, covered fingers or his bulbed toy inside him, pressing on his prostate, slipping in and out of him, or mostly massaging, and him or you or both jacked him, rubbed over his tip, or you tongued over it, sucked on it: those felt a lot like that for him.

Those thoughts, his tongue and hands, his noises, have you so damn close, and you can't wait anymore. Your hand flies to your mound, and you just rub two fingertips over your clit and labia in light back and forth swipes, then press a little harder, still moving, until your back bows, legs going straight and up, stiff, feet flexing, shaking pelvis freezing, making these crazy noises until you're holding your breath, head pounding, bursting in seconds, gasping as you keep going, and another hits. You're getting lightheaded, one foot cramping, but you keep up, going lighter again because your clit is getting oversensitive but... "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Brendonnn..." Your hips give out, shifting his tongue higher up, and your fingers spread, and he's quickly moving his tongue side to side in small, light strokes over the hood, your fingers and labia too. You rock your fingers back and forth over your lips, sway your hips side to side, and you're coming again. He grabs your hips, just brushing his lips over you as you try to catch your breath. "Kisses..." you sigh, dizzy, hot and sweaty. You're so wet it's between your asscheeks, on the couch, and have so much feeling in that red full vulva you're tingling through most of your body. He lays gentle kisses over as much as he can get to, mound and thighs too.

He slips one finger over you, slides it in until he's brushing your cervix, leaves, pushes his tongue in, and you wonder if he can feel any aftershock contractions. Then two fingers stretching, halfway, massaging along your bladder, and you squeeze around him, relax, and he presses a bit firmer, circling them to stroke your bulbs and opening too. You press down on him, wet hand stroking his hair, eyes half-lidded, body lazy, breath slower but still hitched. He goes a bit firmer--"n-like before"--and he lightens up, kisses your clit again. "Love your lips, B. Soft..." You can feel his grin, and he opens up, presses his tongue to you for a second before tenderly sucking in your clit, moving side to side, and you guide his head--"little harder"--rocking in his mouth, on his fingers, tired muscles tensing again, shaking, freezing, and you can feel yourself clenching and releasing around him, swelling, as you burst again.

He keeps sucking, pressing, but--it's too much. "Shit, shit," you gasp, tilting away, "need a break, honey. Fuck."

"Tuckered my girl out, huh darling?" he chuckles, kissing your thighs, just relaxing his fingers as you pulse around him, coming down. "Love how you feel..."--he kisses over the regular skin on your furry wet lips--"smell..."--he nuzzles your cleft with his nose--"taste..."--he licks over your swollen lips, just grazing your aching clit.

"Jesus, c'mere," you cup his jaw, playing with his neck hazily as he moves over you, still fully dressed. You want to see more of him and pull his blindfold off, revealing gorgeous lashes, eyes that manage to look so puppyish and sexy at the same time. You press your mound against his crotch, making him moan, rock into you, feeling wetness on his pants. "Damn, Bren..." Seems like it's just precum, but either way... Your sexy boy.