#i was worried 4k would kill my battery quickly

[nadja-antipaxos]

"NFWMB" (Full Song) || Hozier || Oklahoma City || September 26, 2024

🎥: me

Part One - reaction to the signs

[loverontheleft]

Ready to Leap (Chapter 27)

AU with B as a band teacher and reader as an English teacher. Fluff and smut. Chapters 1-26 can be found on my Masterlist.

Brendon x reader. Warnings: risky sex (road-head, don’t do it; it’s stupid and dangerous), brief usage of toys, fingering and oral.

Word count: 4k

-||-

“Y/n, please.” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. He looks over at you quickly as you press your fingers into his crotch. “We agreed on road head; we didn’t agree on teasing.”

You give him a look. “Baby, no one would ever agree to teasing. That would be insane.” You stroke him gently, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for teasing you; I’m not trying to. I just want you nice and hard for me.”

“Trust me, I’m hard.”

“No, I want you really hard.” You slide your hand into his sweatpants and curl your fingers around him. “I want you aching for my mouth, begging for my tongue, your cock throbbing and leaking before I even get you in my mouth.”

“Jesus, Y/n, you’re killing me,” he moans, thrusting into your fist. “Please baby, I need your hot, wet tongue on me.” He closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. “There’s a present for you in the outside pocket of the suitcase, by the way.”

You turn and reach for the suitcase and laugh delightedly when you pull out a finger vibe, still in its packaging. “Damn, I love you,” you whisper, unpacking it quickly and slipping it on your left middle finger. “Love when you beg me,” you sigh, licking your right palm slowly and jacking him again. “God, I wanna suck you off.”

“Do it then,” he says, his voice tight. “Let me see that pretty mouth stretched around my cock.”

“Ask nicely,” you chide and he looks at you, eyes wild, mouth parting but saying nothing. “Ask nicely and I will.”

“Please, babygirl, please. I need you.” Frantically, he shoves his sweatpants down with one hand, and you moan when his cock springs free; heavy, hard, already flushed and, just like you wanted, leaking pre-cum.

“I know,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes and sucking the tip of his cock in between your lips, tongue flying over his slit to taste him and hand squeezing gently before taking more of him.

“Oh god, your mouth,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat with one hand on your head. “Your perfect mouth, Y/n, fuck.”

You moan around his cock, and he shudders when the vibrations wrack his body. “You’re so beautiful with your mouth full,” Brendon murmurs, stroking your hair now. “You’re so beautiful, babygirl.” You press forward until your nose is against his skin and he groans, head pressing back into the headrest. “I can’t even look at you, fuck,” he says in the most pitiful voice you’ve ever heard. “I’ll come on the spot if I look down and see my pretty wife letting me fuck her mouth.”

You pull off of him with a moan. “You shouldn’t be looking at me anyway. Watch the road.”

“I am, I am,” he reassures you hurriedly. “And I’ve got cruise control on too. This next stretch is pretty straight and there’s no other cars; I promise.”

You give him a thumbs up since your mouth is occupied; he gasps as you swallow around him and you cup and caress his balls, pressing your gently vibrating finger against them as your head bobs. He groans and you taste him. You push yourself lower and lower before pulling back suddenly, wiping your mouth. “How are you so hard?”

“Is-is that a serious question?” Brendon pants, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Because I don’t know if I have the-fuck,” you’re licking him again idly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he talks, “-the, Jesus Christ, the ability to answer beyond saying it’s you -oh fuck Y/n, I love that.” Your right hand is tight around the base of his cock and you’re sucking the tip hard, your cheeks hollowing out around him. “Yeah baby, just like that,” he whispers, and you hear the dull sound of his head hitting the headrest again. You flick the underside of the head of his cock with just the tip of your tongue and he grunts, hips bucking. You moan and squeeze his thigh with your left hand, trying to tell him how much you love this too; the weight of his dick on your tongue, the taste of his pre-cum, the what-should-be-unpleasantness of your lips stretched tight around him, all of it. You move your hand down to use the vibrator on yourself and you squeal a little around him. He looks down at you briefly and you look right back, rubbing the vibe against yourself in small circles. “I love you,” he gasps, watching you bring yourself to a shaking orgasm as you suck him eagerly, your mouth going even tighter as you come. “Baby, I’m gonna-“ and he sounds choked; your eyes flick up and the hand that was on your head is now in his hair, the hand on the steering wheel trembling. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, “you’re so-fuck, I’m gonna come, fuck, wait, God please-” and his hand is back on your head, keeping you in place, and he slows down before pulling off the road and slamming the car into ‘park.’ “Fuck, I love you Y/n,” he whispers. “Oh fuck, now,” he grunts and his back arches, his thighs tense under your fingertips, and the moan he makes is so filthy and wanton that you wish it could be your ringtone. It pushes you over the edge again and you rock hard against your left hand, whining and moaning around his cock as he spills over your tongue. He’s filling your mouth and petting your hair as you swallow enthusiastically, whimpering and whining as you do, nuzzling your face closer to the base of his cock as though he’s holding out on you. “Look at you,” Brendon groans, “look at you, swallowing all my cum like a good girl; letting me buck into your hot, wet mouth while you swallow me and come on your fingers.” He can’t help it; his hips rock forward in short, jerky thrusts and you take it, almost purring in satisfaction at the sensation of him fucking your mouth, matching his thrusts by in how you grind against your hand. When he’s done, you keep sucking gently, rolling your tongue over his length to clean him up, not wanting to miss a drop. You can’t move anyway; he’s breathing hard and is almost doubled over, his chest pressing against your head, which keeps your mouth in place. After a minute, you make a small sound and squeeze his thigh again. “Ah, fuck baby, I’m so sorry,” he says frantically, sitting upright long enough for you to let his dick slip from your lips. You can feel how swollen they are and he brushes his fingertips over your lips gently, almost in awe. “Fuck, I’m sorry...baby...your mouth...I just - watching my cock slip through these pretty lips; watching you take all of me…while you came...oh fuck,” Brendon sighs and he leans over to unbuckle you, so he can pull you into his lap. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur, going limp against his chest. “I’m so sleepy now,” you admit with a laugh and he runs a hand over your back.

“We can stop and take a little nap in the backseat you want. Or we can just recline my chair and nap and snuggle.”

“That one,” you say and then yawn. “Don’t wanna move.” He reaches to one side and pulls the handle, letting his seat slowly drop to a flat position. “Don’t let me sleep more than 30 minutes,” you tell him and he nods, holding you to him tightly.

-||-

“Y/n, baby, we’re home.” His voice is soft and your eyes flutter open. He must have moved you to your seat at some point because you certainly don’t remember moving yourself. “Want me to carry you inside?” You nod and he crosses around the front of the car, opens your door, and scoops you up when you stretch out your arms to him.

“That was longer than 30 minutes.” You give him a playful scowl and he nods, kissing your forehead. “You should have woken me up; I’m sure it was boring, driving in complete silence.”

“It wasn’t silent. You talk in your sleep.” He grins down at you as he ascends the stairs. “It was cute.”

“Oh god,” you groan, covering your eyes. “What did I talk about?” He gives you a smug smile. “B, what did I say?”

“Just how much you loooooooooove me, and you think I’m soooooooo sexy,” he says in a teasing, sing-song voice. “And you started using the finger vibe again while you slept; so fucking hot, and,” his voice is more serious now, “and, you told me how good and safe and loved I make you feel.”

“All true,” you muse, burying your face in his chest. “And that would explain why my pussy is so wet.” He nudges your bedroom door open with his foot and you sigh when he places you on the bed. “Lay with me,” you plead, stretching out a hand. He smiles and lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Luggage later. Me now.”

“You now,” he agrees softly, kissing the top of your head before letting a yawn slip out reluctantly. He leans far over you and grabs the edge of the blanket on the far side, pulling it over both of you. “Sleep well, babygirl.”

-||-

“Do you have your lunch?” Brendon is calling from the kitchen and you call back the affirmative from the living room as you check your tote bag and his messenger bag. Blue pen, black pen, two sharpies, highlighters, planners, backup battery for phone, peanut butter crackers for an emergency snack, hand sanitizer, sunglasses, water bottle…

“Bren?”

“Yes, m’love?”

“You don’t have sunscreen in your bag; do you want me to grab some?” He starts laughing from the other room and you huff, annoyed. “It’s not funny. You need to protect your skin. You’re up there on that tower, and even late in the afternoon, the UV rays can be-“

He’s come into the living room and has his arms wrapped around you. “You’re sweet to worry.” He kisses your neck and you relax into his embrace. “If it means that much to you, I’ll wear sunscreen.”

You turn in his arms. “It means that much to me.” Your lips brush over his as you murmur, “besides, I just like the mental image of you rubbing sunscreen all over your body.”

He gives you an amused look. “All over my body as in, my arms, calves and shins, and the back of my neck?” You nod, biting your lip in mock seduction and he laughs again, kissing your forehead. “You’re cute. I love you.”

You blush faintly and press yourself close to him. “I love you too.”

He gives you a long look. “Okay Mrs. Urie, ready for school?”

“No.”

“Are you going to go anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Proud of you,” Brendon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the car. “Maybe we can make out during our planning period,” he suggests and you nod eagerly.

“I’m gonna need to. I’ll miss your tongue.”

“Mmmm,” he agrees, pressing you up against the car. “Here’s a little something to tide you over,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you deeply. His lips nudge yours apart and you sigh contentedly when his tongue finds yours; you both clutch at each other desperately as your mouths move together. “So glad you’re my wife,” he says after a moment, raising your left hand to his lips, just barely brushing your ring. “So fucking glad.” He glances down at your hand. “But maybe you should take the ring off to avoid attention?” You sigh and unclasp your necklace, slipping your ring onto the chain, turning so he can re-fasten it. He presses his lips to your neck and you melt into his embrace.

-||-

“Ms. Milton!” Your old name, and that is how you think of it, is jarring to hear - but you both agreed announcing your marriage was probably not a good idea just yet.

“I’m sorry about the ring, baby. I promise I’m confident in you and us,” Brendon had murmured in the car. “It’s everyone who can’t mind their own business that I worry about.” And you agreed; the last thing you wanted was some coworker quoting divorce statistics at you. But nonetheless, your old name is jarring.

“We missed you!” To your honest surprise, it’s Eric who says this. The rest of the class choruses around him and you lean back against your desk and smile.

“I missed you all too,” you admit, and it’s the truth. As much as you love your husband and the time spent celebrating your marriage, you’re meant to be a teacher. You’re supposed to be here with your students. “Okay,” you clap your hands together, “I went through your digital submissions and I’m really pleased with what I got, so we’re going to move on. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Othello?”

-||-

“Let me first say that I do not regret any of the time we spent together and I am so glad to be your wife.” You close his office door behind you and drop onto his couch, sprawling out.

“Hello darling,” he says with a grin, looking at you over the sheet music he’s reviewing.

“Hi,” you laugh and cover your face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he muses, glancing back down at the page, noting something, and then turning his full attention back to you. “So…? You said what you needed to first say, what comes next?” He smiles at you seductively. “I feel like I’m going to like where this is going, Mrs. Urie.”

“I don’t think you are,” you say with a laugh. “I hate being absent. God, it’s honestly more work to be absent. I feel like I’ll never catch up on the grading,” you say with a piteous moan and he frowns a little.

“I can help you. You know I’m happy to help.” He stands from behind his desk and moves to sit next to you. He’s drawing small patterns on your thigh and he leans in close. “Even if my help is just offering some stress relief.”

“I don’t want to take too much of your time; you’ve got practices and competitions coming up and they need your attention too. I really just needed to vent about it; I’ll be okay, I promise.” You shift a little to make room for him to lie down behind you. “But I might take you up on the stress relief offer. What did you have in mind?” His fingers continue their patterns but slip up under your skirt and press higher. Your breath catches in your throat. “B…” you sigh happily and he leans over to nuzzle your neck.

“Would you like that, baby?” His lips press to your skin and his tongue rolls out between them, just teasing you. “You want me to slide my fingers into you and make you feel better?” You moan quietly and he shakes his head, kissing your neck again. “No, honey, I need a yes or no.”

“Yes,” you breathe and he smiles, the curve of his lips sending chills through you as his fingers nudge your underwear aside and “-god, I missed you,” you say softly, arching against him.

“Fuck, missed you too, baby. Rub your ass back against me,” he groans and you arch your back again, this time rolling your hips with purpose against his swelling cock. “You feel me, baby?”

“Yeah…” you can’t say anything else; his fingers are deep in you now, rocking and curling and spreading.

“Normally,” he whispers, “normally, when I spread my fingers like this, it’s either for my tongue or to get you ready to take my dick. But I don’t think we can do either right now.”

“No,” you sigh, reaching behind you to grab his hair, giving you something to hold onto while you grind back on him. “Feels good, Brendon.” You close your eyes and his thumb starts in gentle, barely perceptible circles over your clit. “Yes…” and the word is a high, breathy sigh.

“God,” Brendon grunts in your ear, “wanna feel you come for me, baby.” You whimper and his thumb presses a little harder. “You gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, “yeah, but I’m gonna- god, Brendon, I’m gonna-“

He reads your mind. “You gonna come hard and be all slick and messy like I like? You gonna soak my fingers in your sweet cum because you know I love it?” You can’t even speak; you can only moan and nod. “Well, we can’t ruin this couch,” he comments, sliding his fingers out of you. “Hands on the desk, legs spread, panties off.” You scramble up as best you can, heat and tension coiling deep in you and you cross the room to his desk as he quickly unbuttons his shirt and strips it off. “Skirt higher, legs wider,” he orders, and you obey, panting. “And baby,” he reminds you, “I said panties off.” You nod and hook your fingers into the hem, shoving them down until he can drag them down the rest of the way. You step out of them and he pockets them with a soft moan. You need him; you’re so close. You’re waiting for his fingers but instead, Brendon kneels on the ground before crawling swiftly between your legs and turning so he’s between you and the desk. “Don’t scream,” he warns, and with those words, he slides two fingers back into you roughly and presses close to lick your clit gently. .

“Oh fuck,” you hiss, hips rocking against his face. “Oh god, oh fuck, make me come, Brendon, make me come.” He adds a third finger and sucks your clit in between his lips. Your legs are trembling and he curls his fingers, moaning against you; with that, you’re coming hard, a guttural moan ripped from you. “Brendon,” you whimper, your entire body rigid as his tongue curls against you and collects your climax, hot and wet and slick and messy, as he predicted.

He groans and his fingers slip from you to hold your hips with both hands. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, “giving me all of you.” You’re still trembling but you’re coming down and you step back from the desk to let him move.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp when you get a good look at him. His mouth and chin are shiny; that’s normal, but you’re pretty sure those are shining rivulets down his neck and on his collarbone and chest. “How did I-“

“You came really hard,” he says with a grin, licking his lips and standing. “All over me.” You let out a strangled noise and pounce, kissing him fervently and pushing him down on his desk. He swipes the sheet music off, muttering, “I’ll clean that up later.”

“I’m going to clean you up now,” you whisper once he’s flat on his back. You straddle him, hovering over him to avoid getting his pants wet, and attack his mouth again before working your lips down over his chin and neck, the tip of your tongue collecting your juices and cleaning his skin.

“Baby,” he sighs, hands in your hair. “Your tongue…” You grin at him, tongue sliding over his chest.

“Gonna let me return the favor? Gonna come in my mouth?” Before you can do anything else, there’s a knock at the classroom door. “Fuck,” you hiss, and you both crawl off of the desk and you fix your hair while he frantically re-buttons his shirt.

“Hang on one second,” he calls loudly and looks at you. You’re slightly flushed but you’ve pulled your hair into a neat ponytail and have your skirt back in place.

He crosses and opens his office door and walks towards the classroom door. When he opens it, you peer past him and see Stacy from your second block standing in the doorway. “Ms. Milton,” she looks panicked. “Ms. Milton, I think I left my research paper for science in your room. I’m so sorry but can we-“

“Yeah, lets go.” You glance back at Brendon and he winks at you. “Mr. Urie, do you want to walk with us? I know you said you wanted to go by the cafeteria and fill up your water jug with ice.”

He smiles broadly. “You’re right, I did say that.” He takes your hand and the two of you follow Stacy back to your room. She turns to look at you both giddily and you give her a curious look as you open your door.

“Surprise!” The explosion of voices hits you hard as you turn the lights on in your room.

“Jesus!” You stumble back into Brendon and he catches you, arms going tight around your waist. “What is this?”

Stacy beams at you both. “It’s a surprise wedding reception!” You turn to stare at her. Brendon glances at your hand and you glance back at him, wide-eyed. Your ring is still safe on your necklace, tucked inside your blouse.

“Well, not quite” Brendon says loudly, looking at you. “We’re engaged.” The room is full of your students, mutual and otherwise, and you stare at him. “Just...engaged,” he murmurs in your ear. “Uh, why are none of you in class? And how did you find out about the engagement?”

Josh looks proud from the back corner. “We all made a group chat and asked to go to the bathroom at the same time.”

“That’s…clever, but not okay,” Brendon laughs and you grin, hiding your face in his chest. “And the engagement?”

Now Jessica chimes in from her perch on a desk. “We just sort of assumed you were getting married, you know, because of the baby.”

Brendon turns to look at you. “The baby?” You can’t quite read his tone and he turns back to the room of students. “I think y’all should go back to class,” he suggests gently, squeezing your hand.

“But there’s cake!” Stacy is protesting beside you and you look at Brendon teasingly.

“Yeah Brendon, there’s cake.” He looks at you and you smile hopefully. “We love cake.”

“Okay,” he caves. “Everyone can have one slice of cake, quickly, and then back to class. This is probably not cool of me as a teacher,” he sighs.

-||-

“The baby?” He closes the door as the last student leaves and turns to you, eyes wide and voice hopeful, and you take both of his hands.

“Brendon, I’m not pregnant. I would have told you, I promise.” He sighs and you hug him. “I don’t know why they think I’m pregnant; I’m not. You know I couldn’t possibly be, despite our sex life. IUD?”

“Yeah, I know. I just thought - you know, for a second-” He looks wistful. “But it’s okay.” He takes your hand and kisses it. “It’s okay. We’ve got time.”

“We do,” you agree and he kisses the top of your head and lifts your hair to unclasp your necklace. “I want to have your baby. But I also want to be your wife, just your wife, for a bit longer. There’s so much we’ll be giving up when I’m pregnant and once the baby is here. I want to live our life to the fullest before we really settle down and have a baby.”

He squeezes you tightly before leaning down to capture your lips and slide your ring onto your finger. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. The world is huge and there’s so much of it I want to see and experience with you by my side.” You both move to sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. Before he sits though, he cuts a slice of cake and after sitting beside you, feeds you a forkful. “Practice is going late tonight - you’re welcome to take the car and head home after school if you want.”

“Nah,” you shake your head, taking the fork from him and feeding him a bite. “I’ve got some work on Othello I want to get done. And,” you smile, “if I leave, how will I see their progress tonight?”

“Mmmmm,” he agrees, leaning in to wipe a smudge of frosting from the corner of your mouth and kissing you softly. “Sounds like we have a date on my band tower.”