#he takes it SO hesitantly and literally says ‘I feel so emasculated right now’

[kpgimpactor]

story time 👹

[panickedvulture]

I Think I Love You

Summary: Brendon’s been trying to get over this stupid crush ever since he found out you have a boyfriend. To speed up the process Dallon and Spencer put him through a series of tests to determine if he really loves you or not.

Pairing: Brendon Urie x Reader, Dallon Weekes, Spencer Smith

Warnings: Profanity, Vices & Virtues Era

A/n: The scene with dialogue written in italics is a flashback. Here’s a lil imagine I started writing a long time ago to the tune of “I Think I Love You” by the Partridge family. It’s cute (I think) and short (3k) and hope you enjoy it!

“Alright! Fine, you win, I lose!” Brendon huffs, giving Spencer and Dallon a forced, flat-lipped smile as he throws his hands up in defense. They’re sitting around Brendon’s coffee table, pushed away from his couch to give them all some room to sit comfortably. It’s littered with torn papers, paper with incomprehensible sharpie scribbles seeping through, glass bottles and cans of soda, along with empty bags of vending-machine chips shoved inside one another.

“I-I like Y/n, alright?” He reaches for his orange Fanta, on the verge of tipping over considering its stacked atop unevenly folded napkins they’ve used to clean up a handful of spills tonight. He throws his head back and lets the bubbles sting his throat, but he gulps heavily and takes a breath once he slams it back down on the table. “It’s no big deal,” he insists, his bulging eyes looking to the side.

He feels a warmth come to his face and goes to take another drink but no matter how tight he closes his eyes while the burn of the newly-opened soda travels down his throat, he can’t block out Dallon’s cackling and Spencer repeating, “Wait wait wait wait wait…wait a minute—”

“I said it’s no big deal!” Brendon coughs and pats his fist against his chest. “Can we just like, get back to writing. Please?”

Spencer leans into the table, eyeing Dallon who has his curled fist pressed to his lips, then to Brendon, whose lips are sucked into his mouth as his grip on his drink tightens. 

“You didn’t say you like Y/n, you said you love Y/n! Not love-d! Love!”

“Well, it was a false alarm, Spencer!”

Dallon lets out a breath, shaking his hair as he gets all of the air out of his puffed out cheeks. Then he leans back against the lounge chair, and puts his hands behind his head. “How can you ‘love’ a girl then not even let her come to her band’s writing session. Geesh…”

Brendon scoffs, “I never said this was a writing session!”

“You just asked if we could get back to writing…” Dallon mumbles, looking down at his lap.

Spencer hums and takes a sip of his drink. “Ah yes,” he swallows, “That’s because you insisted it was a boys night when she attempted to include herself in the conversation—“

“Actually,” Dallon starts, “A conversation she was already included in to begin with, but you just decided to pretend like she didn’t exist.” 

Spencer nods and gives Dallon a high-five.

At this point, Brendon’s finished his soda. He’s drinking it with so much rigor he might as well be venting in a bar, but it’s just orange Fanta. He would go and get himself another one but he’s already had six or seven tonight despite Spencer’s wise advice to “Simmer down.” 

Brendon really does feel like a schoolboy with a crush on a schoolgirl. He’s sitting in his house with his friends who’ve laughed at him for daring to have feelings, and to replace alcohol he’s downed six (or seven) sodas of the sugariest kind. Only thing is he’s a grown man dammit who’s allowed to drink yet doesn’t even have the balls to do anything but treat you like shit out of his own embarrassment.

You wouldn’t consider his treatment as shitty. He’s always been one to over-exaggerate. You’ve been the band’s only female member since the Fever days, playing rhythm guitar behind Ryan at first until you were bumped up to lead guitar. With working on three albums you’ve definitely been a victim of the boy’s lack of inclusion.

Hell, after you recorded “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off” you were glad Brendon couldn’t stand to look you in the eye and glad that Ryan and Spence were on their best behaviors and acting all ‘gentlemanly.’ And back then they were literal schoolboys. 

“Uh, you can’t!” Brendon shouted as you took a slow sip from your drink. You were at some club. Brendon claimed that exploring the world fueled his writing, so you went with it. His fearful reaction was in response to you merely opening your mouth to inform them on if you would be able to go or not, but Brendon decided that for you. 

You just stared at him, your top lip over your bottom one as the straw poked at the corners of your mouth. You took another slow sip, looking into Brendon’s eyes as his face flushed and he dug his hands in his pockets.

“Boys night. It’s uh,” he looked over his shoulder to Dallon and Spencer, “It’s a boys night...sorry Y/n.”

You giggled and right then you just felt him deflate and his warmth jumping to you. You were chock-full of embarrassment—you knew a crush when you saw it—and Brendon felt somewhat emasculated.

“Okay?” You said with caution, then stirred around your drink’s ice. “I was going to say I couldn’t regardless because—”

Brendon sputters, putting a hand on his hip and his elbow against the table. “Why is it that the one year I actually feel something more for her, she’s dating someone?!” Spencer and Dallon look at each other, then purse their lips and avoid Brendon’s eyes. 

He’s kinda right…kinda.

You see, being the sole female in a dominantly male band has brought along its challenges, and Brendon is man enough to acknowledge that. The specifics though are something you haven’t exactly brought to his attention or things you’ve shrugged off with a forced smile when he’s brought them up to you. You haven’t been able to spend alone time with any of your bandmates from the day the press got involved without tales floating around of your induction in the band being solely because you got on your knees for one (or all) of them. As big as the “Ryden” craze was and as grateful you are now for your overall support from the fans, God was the hate overwhelming.

Which is why you took the first partner you got. 

Spencer starts to whistle, reaching over the table to twist around a bag of Cheetos facing Brendon. Dallon does the same, sitting up straight and hunching his back to reach. They shrug, knowing you’ve been in a relationship for longer than Brendon’s giving you credit before.

Brendon stares at them in silence, then Spencer, after getting a few Cheetos in his mouth, snatches the notepad placed in front of Brendon. He reaches for the pen too then starts scribbling. Dallon cranes his neck to get a peak, and like school-children in the middle of a test, Spencer cups his hand around his writing to keep Dallon from seeing. He gives him a glare too.

“What are you doing?” Brendon stands up but keeps his knees bent, that way when he sits back down the drop won’t be too far.

“I,” Spencer starts, then sticks his tongue out between his lips as he focuses. He draws a T-chart and finishes it off with a wobbly line down the center of Brendon’s paper. He huffs, “am going to have you make a list.”

Brendon scrunches his face up, looking above their heads and to the nearest wall as he tries to think of what list Spencer could be talking about. Dallon reaches over the coffee table to tug at Brendon’s sleeve and Brendon hesitantly sits on his knees. He keeps his chin up but his eyes on Spencer’s paper.

Spencer finishes it, clicking the pen closed before he sets the pad and pen down in front of Brendon.

Brendon scoffs, “A pros and cons list—I’m not doing this!” He clutches the pen tight and tries handing Spencer the list.

“Oh come on why not?” Dallon asks.

“Because!” Brendon looked between the two. “It’s gross and rude and didn’t you see that episode of Friends? Fu-fucking Ross screwed up all his chances with Rachel, there’s no way in hell I’m doing this!” 

“It’s true.” Dallon nods and Spencer sighs. He snatches the pen and pad from Brendon and holds it down with one hand as he presses the tip of the pen tight against the paper, drawing over the square section where the cons are supposed to go. With some effort and grunting as he tries to use his full force on the flimsy pen, Spencer’s weakened the paper enough to seamlessly rip the cons part from the rest of the page. He lets it float down to the carpet next to him, then drops the pen and pad down in front of Brendon again.

“First of all!” Spencer holds up a finger, “It was only like the second season, Ross did much much more to screw up his chances with Rachel. But if it bothers you that much then just do her pros.” Spencer shrugs, pressing his lips together tight.

Brendon looks to Dallon for some assurance that he should not do this, but Dallon shrugs and trains his eyes to the side of Spencer’s head. 

“Fine,” Brendon grunts, clearing some napkins from the table so he can lay the notepad flat. He fiddles with the pen’s cap in his other hand but doesn’t write anything for a minute or two. Dallon and Spencer watch on with interest, holding their breaths. Brendon’s palm starts to sweat and in his frustration, he runs it through his hair.

He has so many ideas but he’s certain they’ll ridicule him for them. Some seem like too big of pros, some seem like too small, others he’s positive will require some explanation on his part and will lead to a roasting session. “Um, I dunno.” He rolls his eyes and scribbles down as he says, “her smile.”

His body shivers and tenses when he hears Dallon’s breath hitch and Spencer snickering.

Brendon runs his tongue over his lips and lifts his head up, his hair bouncing. “Look, just let me do this, alright?”

“Take your time,” Dallon says. Brendon glares at them then leans forward, using his arm to block the paper from their view. But knowing they’re not looking now isn’t enough. He knows the second he takes a break to stop once he starts, they’ll snatch it up and read the list so loud the neighbors will be able to hear.

He takes a deep breath and starts writing anyways.

It starts off small…physical things—her hair, her eyes, her face, her hands, her body—and eventually he looks up into space, presses his lips together, and shrugs before circling everything and writing—her—next to the bubble. Because it’s true. 

Spencer cranes his neck to get a look, and Brendon growls at him. He’s like a mama fox protecting her baby, but the baby is you and he winces thinking of this comparison because oh man what he wouldn’t do to be able to protect you and hold you and call you his baby—but anyways he digresses.

Spencer and Dallon start to get really interested when Brendon giggles under his breath and blushes. And even more so when he bites onto the tip of his thumb to try and lessen the intensity of his smile (it doesn’t work). They begin to realize that Brendon isn’t having as much trouble as they expected. If this was truly a schoolboy crush he would have stopped after a few physical descriptions and simple memories of you doing minuscule things for him—but with how many bullet points he’s making he’s divulging onto paragraph territory.

“Okay!” Spencer snatches the paper from under Brendon and chucks it behind him.

“Hey! Dude!” Brendon huffs and sits up then picks up the paper. He flattens it out where Spencer’s grabby-hands had the audacity to crinkle it. Brendon is ready to start writing again now that he’s gotten into the flow.

Dallon holds his hand out and leans over the table, typing on his phone with his other hand. “Okay, so here’s how we’re gonna do this.” He holds out his hand for them to shush while he gets things in order then shows them a Cosmopolitan article. Not-so-short-story short, it’s a quiz. A simple, yes/no quiz.

“Question one!” Dallon clears his throat and Brendon furrows his brows at Spencer who leans back and puts his hands up in defense, having nothing to do with this.

“Hold on hold on—” Brendon pleads.

“Do you switch from being nervous and sweaty around them to almost being comfortable and perhaps chill around them?” Dallon wiggles his eyebrows.

Brendon thinks about it. He wouldn’t really say “comfortable and perhaps chill,” but he manages to keep the sweat in until the moment you leave. So he rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Yes.”

“Question five—”

“Wait what about—”

“You’re happy just to go to the store with them instead of planning the perfect evening deserving of its own rom-com montage and soundtrack?” Dallon lowers his brows and Spencer points at him then nods at Brendon, considering it a good question.

“I-wh-sure? Yeah yeah whatever, yes.”

“Question seven, when they sleep over, you’re cool with washing your face and brushing your teeth and going pee even without making a big deal out of it.”

“Of course.” Brendon looks at Spencer and Dallon, almost offended they would even ask.

“Question eight…” Brendon nods his head for Dallon to continue, and he does in a huff. “Younolongerdaydreamaboutsmoochingeverysinglerandomhottieyouseeoutinpublic—well of course not the only hottie you daydream about smooching is Y/n, next question!”

Spencer snatches the phone from him and Dallon doesn’t even argue. He just sighs and pouts.

Spencer giggles and “Oooohs.” Dallon looks over his shoulder and cracks a smile before Spencer reads it out loud. “Is it love, obsession, or just a crush?” He reads in a voice that would fit an entitled perfume commercial very well.

Spencer tosses the phone to Brendon and after giving them a glare Brendon takes the test. In the meanwhile, Spencer plays on his phone and Dallon sits in silence wondering when he’ll have his beloved back. Then Brendon groans softly with a mild grimace, and that can only mean it’s time for the results. So Spencer snatches the phone from Brendon again, and then Dallon snatches the phone from Spencer. He’s so proud it’s back in his possession he almost slips it in his pocket, completely forgetting the reason why it wasn’t in the first place.

Then he gets a peak of the results screen and huffs, blinking rapidly at Spencer and ignoring Brendon’s look of great discomfort. 

Dallon clears his throat. “Is it love, obsession, or just a crush? Your result…” He eyes Spencer, and Spencer starts drumming on the table with two pens. “You’re—oops, not you-are, but your—in love at 88%.” He reads, “They mean the world to you and no one else seems to do. When your around them, nothing else exists but the two of you. It’s official, your more than just crushing on the object of your affections, you’ve fallen in love with them. You are only 25% obsessed.” He smiles. 

Spencer raises his brows at Brendon and he’s finally had it. Brendon stands up, groaning loudly and running his hands through his hair. “Alright!” He shouts, stretching back and closing his eyes. He keeps one hand in his hair as the other flails to his side. “Okay okay, I might, just-just maybe love Y/n, just a tiny bit! Alright?!” 

Spencer and Dallon look up at him. It’s kind of pitiful they think.

“But you know what?” Brendon reaches and grabs his bottle by the neck. He holds the uncovered top to his palm which means it’ll surely get sticky but he needs something to repeatedly ram into his hand and he’d rather it be this than the wall. He cackles, “It doesn’t matter! It does not matter one bit—” Spencer and Dallon’s eyes flicker behind him but they’re just messing with him again, of course, “—Because Y/n has a boyfriend and that boyfriend isn’t me and now I’m sad and alone and sad, because I’m in love with my bandmate who I haven’t appreciated during our entire relationship and it turns out not showing appreciation actually ruins a relationship, how about that?!” He huffs in a whiny tone, but still forces a smile. Then he looks down to his bottle of Fanta. There are still some drops left. He shakes the bottle around and hums, pleasing something minuscule is going right, then he throws his head back and lets those last few drops slide down his throat. 

He turns to throw the bottle away before he smashes it out of frustration or pure clumsiness but stops with the bottle still hanging over his mouth as he sees you of all people standing in the door with your lips pursed and arms crossed over your chest. You have your laptop satchel slung over your shoulder. How could you let them start up a writing session without the heap of notes you saved on your laptop a week prior? They needed you, you were the source of organization these boys had. 

Now you didn’t expect to walk into this….but it’s a pleasant surprise.

Still, you don’t have much in you to go grab Brendon by the face and finally get a taste of those lips he incessantly flops around much to your annoyance, so you raise your brows at Spencer and Dallon as a greeting before turning on your heel and walking out the front door. But you don’t leave. You just wait, and you smile knowing waiting was the right thing to do when you hear things being softly thrown inside, followed by Brendon cursing himself, followed by Brendon’s frantic footsteps.

You whip around, your arms still crossed and a slight smile tugging at your lips, but for Brendon’s sake you suppress it and bring in your firm brows.

He holds his hands up in defense. “I can explain. Okay? I just-I just, you know, we were just messing around in there and they were trying to test—”

You step closer and shake your head gently. You would have put your finger to his lips just to get a bit of a preview of how soft they are (and to see if they meet your expectations) but you don’t feel the need too. Brendon gulps and his voice fizzles away completely by the time you’re a foot in front of him. 

You nod, “Go on.”

Brendon sighs. He thought you were going to hush him, reassure him that you knew it was a misunderstanding. The only problem was it wasn’t, and you knew that.

He deflates and kicks at the ground. “Y/n…I know you have a boyfriend and I respect that, alright?” He shrugs and purses his lips as he looks off to the side. “Everybody told me I’d get to liking you eventually I just didn’t expect it to happen literally the one time you weren’t available.” He looks you in the eye.

He’s not sweating. He’s comfortable, and perhaps chill.

“And so…you’re just gonna have to give me some time to let whatever I feel for you run its course. Okay? I promise things won’t be weird between us…if you’re down for that that is and if you’re not comfortable working with me for a while I—”

“Yeah, listen, I broke up with him like seven months ago.”

Brendon blinks. Then he lets his jaw go slack. “Seven?”

“Mhm…”

“Seven months ago—Y/n!” You look off then give him a flat-lipped smile. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

You shrug. “Eh. Nobody was really interested or involved when we were dating to begin with so I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Plus it’d mean nobody would rat about the break up to the press because you and I both know the second I do one of you three boys will be labeled as the reason being, right?”

Brendon nods weakly.

But then he realizes something. If you don’t have a boyfriend then…

“Bren you wanna go out some time? For drinks, or dinner, or a movie and have it not be a band outing? Or we can go to the park….the zoo?” You take a deep breath, thinking of all the possibilities. “We can go people-watch in the food court at the mall.”

Brendon’s breath is caught. He stares at you with wide eyes and a still slack jaw. Then, as everything has finally made sense to him, he cracks a smile.

“I think I love you.”

You suck your lip in between your teeth. “Is that a…yes?”

“Absolutely.”