Band Imagines

Brendon Urie - May I Be Excused?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Brendon Urie

Request: Yes || Hi!! May I please have a Brendon Urie smut where the reader and him go over to her parents house and they wind up doing a quickie in the bathroom because one of them teased the other or something like that? Thanks ❤️

Warning(s): NSFW || smut, wall sex.

I've already written a Brendon smut about quickies, so this one is gonna be short in comparison. I won't try to make it shorter, but there isn't much I can add to make it longer and not end up the same. Also, it's not quite because of teasing. Nevertheless, enjoy. xx

Dinner with the parents. Brendon had met your parents before, since you've been dating for nearly two years. It wasn't the first dinner, thank the Lord. But it most certainly wasn't the best one you've had with them. None of it had been planned. You were wearing leggings and a big t-shirt, Brendon was in sweatpants. You both looked like you'd been traveling all day, and B had been. In all honesty, it wasn't even suppose to be dinner with the parents. It was suppose to be 'tour just finished, so we'll stop in while on the way home from the airport.' However your car had other plans. It won't start, so your parents made you stay for dinner, and then they'd call you a cab. They wanted to make sure you didn't have to cook when you got home, and since he had been on tour for months, they wanted him to have a real, home cooked meal as his first meal back home.

Little did they know, Brendon didn't want any big home cooked meal. He didn't want fast food either. He wanted to get home, lock the door, and fuck his girlfriend.

Of course, you wanted to fuck him too. It had been about a month since you had last joined him on tour, and even so, fucking in a tour bus was hard. There were nights where Brendon and the crew would stop at a hotel and stuff, but sadly, the nights you flew out for, were nights the band was on the bus and traveling. You got to see one show of his on the last night you were there. And of course, that would be the night they were in a hotel. And of course, that night you didn't get to stay in the hotel with them. You had to get to the airport and head home, because you had work the next afternoon.

It was overall, a mess. So here you were, sitting at your parent's dining room table, with a lovely pasta dinner in front of you. Or, what was left of one. Now, you were all sitting around the table while your mom prepared desert in the kitchen. You were getting antsy, and you could tell Brendon was too by the way he was biting his lip while looking at you, and bouncing his leg.

"I have to pee. May I be excused?" You asked, glancing at your dad. He nodded and waved you off. Your parents weren't prim and proper so it was nothing out of the ordinary, and Brendon and you use to have burping contests, so you weren't embarrassed at all. After standing, you headed to the upstairs bathroom, attached to your childhood bedroom. Once inside, you stood at the sink for a moment and texted B, telling him that he should come 'check on you' because you 'hadn't been feeling well.' Or at least, that's what he needed to tell your parents.

Five minutes passed before you watched him enter the bathroom with you. "Did you tell-"

"I told them that you'd been feeling sick for the past few days, and I didn't want you picking me up anyway, but you insisted. I made up a whole story. They bought it."

"So how long do we have?"

"Long enough to get at least a little relief." He stated, locking the bathroom door and pushing you up against it, kissing you feverishly. It had been too long. Far too long.

"Can we skip the teasing babe? They'll start to worry." You mumbled as your boyfriend's lips started dragging down your neck and to your collar bone. He nods and his hands slip into the waist band of your leggings. You waste no time doing the same to his sweatpants and starting to push them down his legs.

Next to go down your legs, but not come off completely, were your panties. His boxers did the same thing. "Condom?"

"On the pill. Fuck me, damnit." And he did. Brendon wasted no time pushing you completely against the wall and using his knee to spread your legs before slipping himself into you. You groaned quietly at the feeling. It had been a month, and to be completely honest, you had almost forgotten what it felt like. The bliss. The absolute euphoria. When he pulled his hips back, and then pushed them into you, making your back press against the wall as he moved within you, your entire brain went fuzzy. "Fuck, yes, Brendon."

A smile crawled onto his features and you moaned again before realizing that you needed to be quiet. Along with being quiet, you and Brendon needed to hurry this up. He must've been thinking the same thing, because his hand slipped between the two of you and started rubbing your clit, knowing it was a sure fire way to get you off soon. Holding in a moan, you slipped your hands up the back of his shirt and gently, but with just enough force, raked your finger nails down his back, knowing it drives him crazy.

And just as expected, he bucked his hips a little harder. Before you knew it, he had you unravelling, and he followed shortly after.

Both of you stood against the wall, panting for a moment before grabbing some toilet paper and wiping yourselves off. Fixing your clothes and flushing the toilet paper, washing your hands and trying to make yourselves look presentable.

After a few minutes, Brendon helped you fake sick and helped you get back downstairs. "Y/N, are you okay? You look dreadful..." your mom asked, now seated at the table with your dad. A slice of cake sat at each of four places.

"Yeah, I'm okay. But I don't think I'll be eating the cake. I'll have to take mine to go. I'm not feeling the best."

After Brendon and your parents had eaten their cake, and your piece had been wrapped up to go, your parents called you and Bren a cab, sending you on your way. As soon as you guys got home, Brendon was rushing to get inside.

"You're not really sick, right?"

"Of course not. Round two?"

"Please."