lover

brian quinn x (fem) reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 24, brian is 47), mentions of anxiety & depression, dbf!brian, slow burn, eventual smut

words: 2.6k

summary: seeing your childhood crush and fathers best friend, brian quinn, after far too many years.

notes: it’s been a minute! i wrote this so long ago but never got around to posting it. i have no excuse other than university kicking my ass and a lack of motivation to write. also i lowkey forgot this account existed. i apologize for that. hopefully this will make it up to you all, at least a little.

it’s hard to say what the timeline for the rest of this will be, but i will try my best to make sure it’s not as drastic as this last break.

the last thing i wanted to say: i might be taking down my other posts to either rewrite or delete them permanently, but i haven’t gotten around to that and it’ll take some time. anyway, please enjoy this fic & don’t hesitate to criticize, i’m always open to it! love you all :)

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The familiar and icky smell of sweat coupled with strong perfume and barbecue flood your crinkled nose as you take a step outside onto the creaky wooden deck, being greeted by the beaming sun as she rakes her long fingers through your hair. There’s a calm breeze keeping her otherwise overwhelming heat balanced.

New York.

Your home town, your birthplace— your absolute least favourite place to be. It’s been years since you’ve stepped foot in New York, let alone your childhood home. Not without reason. You travelled abroad to study, build yourself from the ground up, and figure life out after your sister passed. Once you settled down a bit and managed to make enough money to get by comfortably, your parents insisted on flying you down to visit and catch up for the first time since you left 6 years ago.

Which leads to now; a nightmare came to life. Of course, you had expected your parents to keep their promise of being civil and keeping things low-key when you came back. But of course, they threw that all away and decided to invite the entire neighbourhood back to greet their darling daughter. You are jetlagged and your poor ears are tired of hearing the same, slightly condescending words thinly veiled in a passive aggressive statement; it’s been so long — did you finally decide we were good enough to visit again? Oh, that degree doesn’t sound too promising — but we’re proud of you anyway!

It’s been pure torture. The worst part? Your parents won’t let you have a single sip of alcohol despite you being 24, well over the legal drinking age. They’re still so goddamn protective of you, constantly fawning over your every need as if you’re still that helpless young girl you used to be. It’s driving you up the wall, and you’re already beginning to regret agreeing to visit in the first place.

After attempting to get a breath of fresh air (which ultimately failed when old Sarah Hodkins from three doors down, whom you hadn’t spoken to since you were a child, insisted on learning every detail about you studying abroad), you quickly head back inside to avoid any further questions and comments from people who you haven’t even thought about in years.

With a pounding ache in your head that has been festering since the moment you stepped foot in this godforsaken state and your eyes screwed shut, you slip into your childhood bedroom and all but slam the door shut behind you. It doesn’t dawn on you what room you’re in until the nostalgic pink walls breach your blurred vision. Your eyes scan the room, almost wincing as you feel the faded memories flooding back into your overworked brain.

Light pink bedsheets, a piggy bank resting atop an old wooden dresser, posters of One Direction plastered all over the wall, various medals thrown in a clear plastic box from your old community league basketball team. You sigh as you plop yourself down on the bed, the familiar creak of the aged bed frame ringing in your ears.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It’s overwhelming– seeing all these people, making conversation, re-entering and reliving the old days that you worked so hard to push to the back of your mind. It’s almost too difficult to breathe; the guilt you feel due to leaving everything behind all those years ago pressing on your chest, pinching at your lungs as your heart pounds so hard against your ribcage that you’re convinced it’s trying to escape. Your parents, loving and patient, missed you so dearly. Your father had his goals set on you taking over his company, but he didn’t complain too much when you decided to pack your entire life into one bag and fly far away. Yet you still have the nerve to get annoyed with them, to even regret coming down to visit them. You can already imagine what your almost evil older sister would have said.

What kind of daughter would do such a thing? I personally would have stayed here, done what mom and dad wanted, because they gave us everything. You can’t make it by yourself out in the world. You’re alone. You’re immature. You’re ungrateful. You’re delusional, and hard-headed, and—

Your already on-alert body flinches at the ugly sound of the door unlocking and creaking as it’s pushed open, jolting you out of your thoughts. You instantly try to gather yourself, wiping the stray tears away from your eyes and sniffling as your gaze flickers upwards to see who has breached the time alone that you needed so badly. The heady smell of cigarette smoke and beer hits your senses first, your vision slightly unfocused from your previous tears.

Brian Quinn.

It clicks instantly— how could it not? You could recognize him anywhere; broad shoulders, signature baseball cap nestled on his head and the dark brown curls tinged with grey that spill from under it, the lingering smell of cologne and smoke that follow him wherever he goes as if they’re taunting him.

Your fathers best friend.

Basically a brother to him at this point. They’ve known each other since they were little kids, which your father never failed to mention at every family gathering you had when you were younger. Many late nights spent around the bonfire out in the backyard were spent reminiscing on what your father liked to call ‘the good old days’, but you always used to think it just sounded like two boys acting like absolute idiots. Which you weren’t exactly wrong about. Both Brian and your father never really grew out of acting like rambunctious children; constantly wrestling, sarcastic comments thrown around, even food fights once in a while during dinners. But Brian’s boyish charm was always something you had adored.

That’s probably why Brian Quinn had always been close to you, too. Acting as the uncle you never had, he used to think the absolute world of you, and you of him. The two of you had been joined at the hip. But ever since you left at 18, without a single goodbye to him, you haven’t spoken to him. Your mind actually blocked him out, forcing you to forget all those bittersweet memories you harbour somewhere very deep inside.

The fact that he’s still just as handsome (if not more) as before doesn’t go unbeknownst by you. He has streaks of grey that were not previously there running through his thick hair and beard, which he has trimmed up. He’s wearing a worn out red flannel over a black shirt that’s hugging his frame, dark washed jeans fitting snugly around his thighs. That silly little schoolgirl crush you had on him when you were a young teenager? It all comes barreling back, crashing into you, the butterflies stirring awake as they flutter like crazy in your chest. You suck in a sharp breath, feeling pins and needles in your legs, like you would topple over if you were standing.

It’s silent for a moment as you both take in the situation. It’s tense. Awkward. Almost unbearable. He clears his throat, shifting on his feet as his hand clenches around the neck of the beer bottle he’s holding. His other hand finds its way into his pocket, pushing in there as if he’s trying to hide it— hide himself.

“Hey, kid. ‘S been a while,” he says in a gruff tone, his voice still just as deep and rough as you remember. Your lungs constrict at his words, knowing the unsaid things lingering behind his reserved tone. He’s upset, you can tell. His jaw is tight, his deep brown eyes purposefully avoiding your face as he lets himself study the room just as you were doing before he barged in.

He has every right to be upset, of course. You had built a connection with him, a bond that he held close to his heart. You grew up in front of his eyes, and you ended up leaving without even letting him know. You didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t ever try to reach out and reconnect. It didn’t hurt you at the time as you were busy with your own life. But now, seeing him, you realize how your actions must have crushed him.

“Yeah, it has been,” is all you can find the courage to say. There’s years of unspoken words lingering between you; playful arguments to be had, late night discussions about whether Marvel is better than DC missed, those little pep talks he used to give you about life and love failed to be given. It’s painful, the tension becoming so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Another beat passes.

He slowly trudges his way over to you, his worn out black boots stomping heavily on the carpeted floor, the hollow thud matching the racing beat of your heart. He clears his throat again, taking a swig of his beer before settling down onto the bed next to you, both of your gazes fixed on the floor as your shoulders brush up against each other. He smells even better up close; you can catch the faint whiff of his body soap, the pine-eucalyptus mix creating an aroma that has you subconsciously taking deeper breaths.

“Didn’t know you were comin’ back,” his voice has softened considerably now that he’s right next to you, as if he’s afraid he’ll scare you and you’ll run away again. Your heart aches with every word that escapes his slightly chapped lips, the guilt becoming almost suffocating as you let out a shaky sigh. Your hands wring together in your lap, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as you chew it nervously.

“It was supposed to be a quick visit. In and out, just to see my parents,” you begin slowly, not trusting your voice not to crack, “but you know how they are. They insisted on having this whole… thing.”

The second your sentence hits the air, it becomes impossibly quiet. You realize that you’ve said the wrong thing, once again. You can tell that Brian is hurt by the fact that you didn’t even think of visiting him, after all these years you spent apart. He had always been your biggest supporter, one of the only people who truly believed in you when you wanted to be ambitious and would speak of leaving the country.

“I didn’t mean—“

“Nah, ‘s alright, kid,” he cuts you off before you can explain yourself, which is probably for the best. You have a bad habit of fucking things up– of stumbling over your words and making things worse, which is not something you want to risk with Brian, whom your relationship with is already incredibly shaky.

The silence remains heavy, hanging above your heads like it’s taunting you, reminding you of how it’s all your fault that this relationship has boiled down to this point. It used to be so easy with Brian; he would always be there to give you advice, to make you laugh, to brighten up your day. But now, life seems to be laughing at your face. Pointing its ugly fingers at you, mocking you for ruining yet another connection with someone who loved you seemingly unconditionally. It appears to be becoming a pattern with you.

Without another word, Brian tilts the lip of his beer bottle to you. It’s clutched in his large hand, thick fingers curled tightly around the neck of the bottle. It’s like a saving grace, a fountain of water in the middle of the desert. You eagerly accept it, not even murmuring a ‘thank you’ before putting your lips to the rim and tipping the glass back. The liquid sloshes in the glass before it pools in your mouth, still cold and fresh as it hits your throat. The condensation on the bottle effectively cools down your sweaty hands, allowing you a very temporary relief from the heavy tension lingering between you and the man next to you.

“I needed that,” you hum softly as you return the beer, finally growing enough courage to look at his face for a moment as he plays with the corner of the label which has started to peel. The corner of his mouth lifts for a split second before he takes another sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows heavily.

“I can tell. You never liked these kinda gatherings when you were younger. Always runnin’ off, straight to this bedroom. I remember how you’d hide under the covers until everyone went home,” Brian’s voice falters near the end of his sentence, his eyes flickering nervously between yours. His gaze drops a bit lower than your jaw for a millisecond before jumping right back up to meet your gaze.

“I’ve only been home for a day and you’re already back to embarrassing me again,” you tease him, trying to break the tension and see where exactly his boundaries are at the moment, if he’s willing to joke with you. When the adorable crows feet next to his eyes crinkle with a smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

He doesn’t respond for a while, simply looking back down at his hands, and the beer bottle in them. He runs his palms down his jeans, wiping away the condensation from his drink, his eyes flitting around the room as he gets familiar with it again. You notice when he focuses on the mahogany dresser resting in the corner, and an old memory hits you as you watch his face drop slightly. He had built that dresser for you years ago, on your 10th birthday, after you had begged and pleaded with your parents to buy you one. You can tell that he’s remembering the exact same thing, and it’s incredibly bittersweet. Brian wears his heart on his sleeve– both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because when you were 12 and you wanted ice cream before dinner while he was babysitting and he refused, you could see the glint in his eye that told you he was pulling your leg. But a curse, because in this moment, you can see every emotion that crosses his mind as he rewinds time and relives that old moment, and it makes you feel sick to your stomach.

“I should head out, kid. Good seein’ you,” Brian’s voice is sharp and abrupt as he stands up quickly, clearing his throat for what feels like the hundredth time. He doesn’t waste any time as he steps towards the door, hand already on the knob before you can even process it. You look up desperately as you watch his back retreat out the door, shutting it softly behind him as the sound of his boots thudding echoes farther and farther away from you.

You want to stop him. You want to apologize for leaving so abruptly, for not saying goodbye, for cutting all connections with him. You want to apologize for coming back without letting him know, for forgetting the connection that you two had. For forgetting him. The words rest on the tip of your tongue, your teeth biting down on them hard enough to draw blood and not allowing them to slip past your nervously-bitten lips. But it’s too late, as it has been for you too many times in the past. The words shrivel up like a slug in salt, wisping away into nothingness like all the other words you failed to express.

What a surprise.

The only benefit to him leaving the room was the fact that the tension he brought with him had tagged along behind him, finally allowing you the solace that you were seeking in the first place. You quickly push open the window, fresh air flowing into the room and allowing you to calm down your pounding heart, your sweaty hands, your frazzled mind.

Not a single thing had gone right this entire trip, and you were definitely beginning to feel the effects despite it being the first day. What you want, is a goddamn drink. But what you need?

Warnings: smut!

Words: 3.2k

Summary: You weren’t expecting your cruise to go the way it did.

A/N: i honestly hate this fic, i need to stop writing when im not sober bc it always comes out so rushed and unorganized and i get too lazy to edit😭

—————

It was day two on the Impractical Jokers Cruise, and you were getting pretty sick of it.

You loved the Impractical Jokers and you were having plenty of fun interacting with the other fans and eating great food, but being on the water often made you sick.

Today was especially bad because not only were you seasick, you were also hungover. You drank heavily on the first day to loosen up and try to be more social, and that proved to be a horrible decision as you were really facing the consequences now.

Despite your pounding head and the nauseous feeling that was lodged in your throat, you managed to get yourself cleaned up so you could head out to the main part of the deck. There were lots of activities planned, but you knew you couldn’t partake in them because of your hangover and general gloomy mood.

You didn’t mind, though. You still had two days to make up for the lack of energy today, and you promised yourself that you wouldn’t drink as much as you did last night.

All of the people on the boat started shuffling around and you followed them, the entire group making their way to the front of the stage where the Jokers would crack a few jokes and whatnot.

To be honest, your focus was not on the four men being their usual idiotic selves at the moment. You were trying your best to keep the sun out of your eyes so it wouldn’t worsen your already painful migraine. The loud -what you could only describe as- screeching of the mic rang in your ears and you thought it might have burst your eardrums and made your head explode.

Thankfully you were still in one piece when the Jokers got off the stage, and you immediately hurried towards the bar so you could get a cold drink to bring you back to your senses. You saw all the fans grouping together in a large circle where you assumed the four guys were, but you couldn’t pay attention to that. You needed a refreshment and probably a Xanax.

The entire day went by in one nauseating, loud blur and you found yourself worn out at the end of it. Your headache had reduced into a light thrum that you could ignore after taking some medication.

You were laying on your back on the carpeted floor of the room, and you had never been more uncomfortable. The hard floor felt somewhat soothing on your back but it felt like hell for your neck, so you eventually sat up.

God, a drink would be nice.

You knew you promised yourself that you wouldn’t drink heavily tonight, but a glass or two wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would relax your nerves and help you sleep. You lifted up your phone and read the time, which was 3:36am.

With a huff you got up off the floor and went to the bathroom to make sure you looked presentable enough to talk to other people. With a quick splash of water on your face to wake you up, you headed out your door and down to the bar.

The keycard for your room poked against your thighs when you sat down on the barstool, so you fished it out of your pocket and placed it face down on the counter along with your phone.

“It’s awfully late,” the bartender in front of you said with a small smile, “what can I get you?”

“A beer would be great,” you replied, trying your best to return his smile. He nodded and went to grab your drink, sliding the bottle across the table to you. You put it down on the coaster and popped the top off with your teeth, pocketing the cap and taking a swig.

“Is this seat taken?”

You shook your head but didn’t bother to look at who asked you the question, your eyes screwed shut as you forced yourself to swallow the beer. Beer had never been your thing, and you had no fucking idea why you ordered it, but you did so now you were stuck trying to finish it.

“Is it that bad?”

You finally opened your eyes and looked over, surprised when you saw Brian Quinn sitting in the stool next to you. If it had been any other day you would’ve been freaking out, but it was far too late in the night for you to have a big reaction.

“I’m sure it’s fine for someone who likes beer,” you answered, grimacing when you took another sip.

“Do you wanna switch?” He laughed a little, sliding his drink over to you. It was just a whiskey on the rocks, and you quickly accepted his offer. You handed the beer off to him and made a face when he took a long drink.

“What’re you doin’ up this late?” Brian asked in a raspy voice, making you shift in your seat. He always had an effect on you ever since you started watching the Impractical Jokers, so being in his vicinity was sort of nerve wracking. You tried to keep calm though, as you didn’t want to seem like some sort of embarrassing super fan.

“I had a hangover all day and I couldn’t sleep,” you sighed, looking over at him and studying his sympathetic smile. His hair was messy, most of it falling down and covering his forehead. His eyes were beginning to turn red and you could tell that he hadn’t been getting the best sleep either. Up close, you could see the grey streaks in his hair and beard clearly, and you had to admit that it had always been a weakness for you.

“A hangover all day and you’re drinkin’ again?”

You giggled a little and nodded, making him grin. You both took another sip of your drinks and he sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“Do you ever get tired of these things?” You mumbled to him, genuinely curious. On screen he looked happy and energetic but now, with him sitting right next to you, you could read all the stress on his face. He sat back but his shoulders still looked tense, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much of those problems came from his job.

“Sometimes. I love bein’ able to meet fans but the whole cruise thing gets old,” he tilted his head to look at you, “I’m not very fond of the ocean.”

“Why’s that?”

“Too many things could go wrong. That on top of only knowin’, what, 5 percent of the creatures in it? It’s terrifying.”

“Are you telling me you’re scared of the Kraken?” You joked, making him laugh loudly.

“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure the Kraken kills it’s victims quickly. You wouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he huffed sarcastically.

“No problem.”

“Is this your first cruise?” He changed the topic, looking at you as he drank his beer. His dark brown eyes staring into yours made you once again adjust your thighs, and his gaze dropped down to your lap for a millisecond. You felt yourself growing hotter as you realized fully what situation you were in.

“No, uh, I’ve been on a few,” you managed to get out, “I’ve never been on an Impractical cruise, though.”

“You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“I get a bit seasick,” you admitted, and he snorted.

“You came on a cruise knowin’ that you get seasick?”

“Whatever,” you scoffed, playfully pushing his shoulder. As the time grew later you grew more bold, despite not even finishing the whiskey. You noticed that tiredness often gave you the same confidence boost that alcohol did.

“Sorry to bother you two, but I have to close up in 10,” the bartender broke into your conversation. You apologized and handed him back your now empty glass, and Brian did the same with the beer bottle.

“Are you gonna sleep?” Q asked you as the two of you walked away from the bar and towards the railing of the boat. You shook your head before resting your back against the rails and watching as Brian leaned forward so his elbows were sitting on top of the railing, his eyes scanning you quickly.

You were wearing something that you usually wouldn’t wear around, but you thought that given the late time, no one would be out to see you. Especially not Brian Quinn.

All that covered your body was black volleyball shorts that you got in high school and a cropped shirt, with no bra under it to cover up the fact that you were cold. The breeze was getting more chilly and you felt yourself shiver a bit, crossing your arms in an attempt to get warm as well as cover your nipples.

“You wanna head inside?” Brian asked, blowing hot air into his hands and rubbing them together.

“In a second,” you hummed. The night was quiet other than the splashing of the water, and the air felt crisp when you sucked in a breath. You could feel Brian watching you and you tried not to get self conscious, the alcohol helping with that greatly.

“Here,” you heard Brian shuffle around for a second before he held his zip up to you, gesturing for you to take it. You didn’t argue with him, too cold to be polite and reject it. The warmth it had from Brian’s body along with the thick material helped warm up your otherwise freezing skin.

“Let’s go inside,” Q told you, clearly not wanting to be out in the cold any longer as he was now only in a shirt. You agreed and both of you walked back towards the rooms. You didn’t know if you should give his hoodie back, but he didn’t ask, so you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“If you’re not sleeping, do you want to watch a movie in my room?” You asked, confidence no longer an issue as you grew more comfortable with him. You didn’t really expect him to say yes, so when he did, you were ecstatic.

The two of you made your way into room 135, where you slid your card into the scanner and went inside. Brian followed you and took off his shoes at the entrance, giving your room a quick once-over.

Eventually you two were in your bed with some random movie playing in the back, neither of you paying attention to it as conversation flowed easily.

“No, I didn’t hook up with the turkey baster girl,” Q snorted when you asked about one of the episodes. You both laughed a bit as you passed on more jokes, but eventually silence fell around you two.

Q’s head was resting on the pillow and facing you, which you mirrored. Both of you were on your backs and only a mere few inches apart. It was only a few more seconds of silence before, somehow (and you weren’t exactly sure why), Brian was leaning into you.

Within seconds his lips had meshed with yours, both of you beginning to allow the sexual tension and passion flow freely.

Brian wasted no time in pulling you onto his lap, his fingers digging into your hips as you two made out like teenagers. He let out a soft groan when you placed one of your cold hands under his shirt, trailing it down to his pants and dipping your finger under the waistband slightly.

You giggled into the kiss when he bucked his hips up in a subconscious effort to create more friction. You gave him what he wanted and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down just a bit so you could rub him over his boxers.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Q whined, and you swear you had never heard a better sound. His panting grew heavier and he desperately pulled your shirt off, his hips thrusting into your hand as you gave him the smallest amount of contact.

“So needy,” you whispered to him, and his eyes grew wide. You don’t know exactly what came over you in that moment, but you felt powerful as he fell apart under your subtle touch.

“Y/N, please,” he grunted as his breathing grew short and erratic. You took away your hand and relished in the way he whined again, his eyes staring at you in a silent plead.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me,” he didn’t hesitate to beg, and that only turned you on more. He looked at you with doe-eyes, silently asking you to continue touching him. You eventually gave in and ran your hand down the front of his shirt, tugging it when you reached the hem.

He got the message and quickly pulled his shirt off, letting you scan your eyes down his body with a light blush dusting your cheeks. He reached out to grab your hand, gently guiding it to his chest and placing it palm down on his skin.

You smoothed your hand over his chest and he shivered slightly, his warm skin in stark contrast to your near freezing hands.

No words were exchanged as you slanted your mouth over his again, teeth clashing as your hand travelled down his stomach to rest on top of his (probably painful) hard on. You began to push your hand under his boxers, freeing his cock and swallowing his grunts.

“Fuck, your hands are so cold,” Brian murmured against your lips. You only smiled and continued to move your hand, following a steady rhythm as you went up and down on his length.

“Faster,” he grunted, trying to move his hips to encourage you. You kept your slow pace, wanting him to last longer and tease him.

The room was filled with the slick noise of you jerking him off accompanied by his occasional groans, along with the indistinct chatter of the television behind you two.

“God, ‘m so close,” Brian mumbled under his breath, using one of his hands to pull your face to his. You quickly removed your hand and felt him sigh in frustration against your lips, clearly annoyed that you wouldn’t let him finish.

“I can’t let you cum that fast,” you whispered next to his ear, giving his earlobe a slight tug with your teeth. He let out another breathy exhale before he grabbed your hips, forcefully pulling you further onto his lap.

You giggled as Brian pressed his lips to yours, this time slowing down the pace and taking his time. You reached down and placed your hand on his cock again, circling the tip with your thumb lightly while you kissed him.

“Enough,” he grunted, gently removing your hand, “I need to be inside you.”

You couldn’t help but let a moan slip at his words, and you had no trouble obliging. You quickly slipped out of your shorts and adjusted yourself on his lap, rubbing yourself against him through your underwear.

“Fuck,” was all you could repeat as you kept grinding against him, the friction causing that familiar rubber band to strain in your stomach.

Brian let you continue for a few more seconds, his lips attaching to your neck and sucking hickies on your skin. Eventually he ran his thumb along the top of your underwear, slipping it in a couple times to lightly brush against you.

You let out a high pitched whine at his actions and in no time he was pushing aside your underwear, lining himself up with you, and easing you down onto his cock.

The two of you sighed at the feeling of him finally being inside of you. Teasing him had given you the same pleasure that he received from it, making you both desperately horny.

He stayed still for a moment and when you gave him a quick kiss, he started to move his hips under you. At the same rhythm you started moving up and down, meeting each of his shallow thrusts with your own.

You two only took it slow for a minute or two before he lost his patience, suddenly beginning to push his cock into you harder and harder. You were quickly flipped around, his body covering yours and his lips once again finding your neck and breasts.

Brian kept his own pace, angling himself until you let out a moan to let him know he found your sweet spot. He repeatedly hit that same spot, and that along with his thumb that was now rubbing circles on your clit, you were just about pushed off the edge.

“Say my name,” he rasped into your ear, his breath fanning across your skin and driving you closer. When you opened your eyes, you took in how he looked.

One of his hands held onto the headboard behind you two, his veins popping out because of the force. His other hand was working on your breasts now, tugging at your nipples before sliding up to your neck to gently rest there with a light squeeze.

His hair was messy and he had sweat beading on his skin, his chest red from your scratch marks and you could only imagine what his back looked like.

All of that mixed in with his groans, his cologne, and the smell of alcohol on his breath was enough for you.

“Fuck, Brian!” You all but screamed as you came, too far gone to care that you gave him no warning.

“That’s it, baby,” was all you could hear as he continued pounding into you, “just like that.”

His praise only energized you, allowing you to come down from your high and focus on meeting each of his thrusts and squeezing around him.

“You’re so beautiful. Gonna make me cum,” he dropped his head down to your shoulder, biting down as he approached his high faster and faster.

With one final call of your name he pulled out of you and finished, his cum spilling out onto your chest and a little bit of your stomach.

The two of you fought to breathe properly again, Brian letting out a heavy sigh before getting up to grab a few things in order to clean you up. He came back with a towel and two bottles of water, offering one to you.

You gratefully gulped it down while he wiped off your stomach and any other area where he finished, chuckling a little when he wiped off your chin.

Once he was finished everything he pulled on his boxers and threw you the shirt he was wearing earlier, slipping under the sheets next to you while you tugged the shirt over your head.

You assumed that he wouldn’t want to be near you after having sex with you, sort of a one-and-done type of deal, which is why you were delightfully surprised when he wrapped one of his arms around you. He pulled you close and laid on his side with his face buried in your neck, effectively warming you up.

“Are you feelin’ okay?” Brian mumbled, obviously very tired as his words started to slow down.

“I’m good. You?”

“Fantastic,” he pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver.

“You’re buying me a drink tomorrow, right?” You whispered, focusing on the way Brian’s breathing slowed down as he fell asleep. You weren’t really expecting an answer from the poor man.

Warnings: smut!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: i feel like i always write too much someone pls help me

—————

It had been a week since your little interaction with Q and ever since then, you had avoided him like the fucking plague. Ducking behind equipment and hiding when he passed by, pretending to be immersed in a conversation when he was close, outright changing the direction you were walking when you saw him. You even went out of your way to take a sick day when you knew Q had to film a part of the show on his own for one of the Jokers’ punishments, just so you wouldn’t have to be around only him.

Q hadn’t tried to approach you, but you knew you could only play this game for so long. It was tiring having to be on your toes, and it made your job much harder when you were never relaxed.

“Sound check?” One of the crew yelled out. You came back into the moment and sent your coworker a thumbs up, signalling that everything was good on your end.

“1, 2, and,” Pete pointed towards the Jokers on ‘3’ and they filmed their intro, this challenge being ‘putpocketing’ in the grocery store. This was one of the crew’s favourite challenges as it was always amusing to see the Jokers make new ways to place pencils or whatever it was into unsuspecting peoples pockets.

“Got it, everyone get set up and we’ll meet back in an hour,” you listened to Pete’s orders and slid your headphones down so they hung around your neck, the heavy material pressing against your skin uncomfortably. You grabbed a few things you needed and walked into the grocery store, discreetly fixing a couple mics that you taped up against counters and shelves to pick up audio clearly.

You had finished your job for now but you were too afraid to go out and smoke, knowing that the risk of running into Brian and not having an excuse to avoid him was far greater outside than it was around other people. The craving of a fresh cigarette was on your mind though, and with the stress you had carried the past week, you needed a break.

If you were quick about it, you wouldn’t bump into him.

With that thought, you scoped him out in the crowd of staff and made sure he was engaged in conversation before silently whisking out the door and around the corner of the store. You let out a hefty sigh and leaned your back fully against the brick wall, slowly lowering yourself until you were sitting with your elbows resting on your knees.

The ground was disgusting, you knew that, but you didn’t care. It felt nice to be in the slight breeze, away from the suffocating humidity indoors. You pulled out a cigarette from your pocket along with a lighter that you now made sure to carry everywhere.

You lit the dart and took a drag, allowing the smoke to warm your insides before letting it out through your nose, the familiar smell encasing you. You had a hard time smoking without thinking about Brian and the way you almost kissed him. It proved difficult to smoke even on break at work, just because the thought of running into him and having to talk to him made your pulse quicken.

The world seemed to work against you, though, because you heard the door open a couple feet away on your right. Who else would it be but Q?

You knew he already saw you but you hastily stood up and brushed yourself off, turning to your left and stepping away as fast as you could. That was the plan, at least. You only made it a few steps before his voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Y/N, hold on,” he huffed, and you heard the gravel crunch beneath his sneakers as he walked closer to you. He was now behind you and you had no choice but to turn around, desperately looking everywhere but in his eyes.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is goin’ on?” Brian’s voice was strained and you could tell he was upset. The anger in his voice startled you a bit, as he was never the type to get mad at anyone.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you played dumb, still looking down at your boots. You saw his feet step closer and when you finally looked up, the closeness between you two made you lose your breath.

“Right,” he scoffed, “I feel like I haven’t even seen you since we smoked together.”

“Okay? I’ve been busy,” you retorted, shuffling away from him slightly. He scoffed again and crossed his arms, trying to catch your eye. You kept looking away.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I told you I’ve been busy,” you wanted nothing more than to turn on your heel and bolt, but you knew that would only make things worse.

“Fuck sake,” Brian used one hand to rub his face, “I’m sorry if what I did made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Okay.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Okay,” you responded again. You could tell he was growing more and more frustrated, but you didn’t care. If he had kissed you and Pete saw, you would have lost your job. It didn’t matter who he kissed because Pete couldn’t fire one of the Jokers, but he could fire you without a second thought. You risked your job by being that close with Brian and he risked absolutely nothing.

“Please stop avoidin’ me. I can’t deal with it.”

“Why does it matter if I avoid you? It’s not like I’m the only person you talk to on set,” you quipped, feeling annoyed.

“I enjoy talkin’ to you, and after what I did,” he huffed, “I felt like I almost fucked up the relationship we have.”

“Almost?” You repeated incredulously, “what the fuck do you mean almost?”

He gave you a quizzical look and you felt every emotion you carried brew up inside you.

“I know you don’t give a shit who you flirt with, but it matters to me. If Pete had seen that, I wouldn’t fucking be here,” you raised your voice a bit, “I can’t believe how hard headed you are.”

“You’re kiddin’,” Brian furrowed his brows, “I know I did somethin’ wrong, but that doesn’t mean you get to call me hard headed.”

“It’s the only thing I can think of that describes you. You think with your dick, Brian.”

You could practically see the steam pouring from Brian’s ears, but you felt the exact same. You were furious with him.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me like that.”

Despite the heated moment you two were having, you couldn’t help but feel the familiar wetness pool between your legs. With the way Brian’s voice grew deeper and more commanding, his arms crossed and his shoulders looking bigger, all you could think about was dropping to your knees and relieving both of your anger.

“Or what, Brian? You know that it’s true.”

“Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?” He growled, and you were taken slightly aback. You didn’t expect that from him.

Before you could even blink you were being pressed up against the hard brick wall, your breath speeding up and your heart working overtime. You didn’t even think as you grabbed the collar of Brian’s shirt and roughly pulled him towards you, connecting your lips.

The kiss set off fireworks in your stomach and it made your mind fuzzy. If Brian’s big hands weren’t planted firmly on your waist, you would have toppled over.

Brian was relentless in his hungry kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and his teeth pulling your bottom lip slightly when he detached his lips from yours. He took a second to breathe deeply and you did the same, trying your best to calm yourself down. Your face was hot, your palms were sweaty, and you were turned on beyond belief. Everything you were feeling was wrong.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Brian murmured in a low tone. The only thing you could do was pull him in for another breathtaking kiss, all but melting into him. He held onto you like his life depended on it.

Brian pulled away from you and held onto your wrist, gently but sternly guiding you back into the grocery store. You loosened your wrist from his grip and he looked back at you, confused.

“What are you doing? Everyone’s gonna see us,” you whisper-yelled at him.

“So let them. If Pete fires you, I’ll fire him,” he told you, not leaving any room for arguments. You were still extremely nervous but did your best to discreetly follow Brian as he slipped into a nearby bathroom.

Once the two of you were in there, his lips were attached to your neck, littering hickies on your soft skin. He was careful not to make them dark, which you were grateful for.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Brian murmured into your skin, his hands sliding under your shirt and tracing the bottom of your bra. You felt tingles every time he moved his hands. He slowly lifted your shirt, holding the bottom of it to your lips until you bit down on it so your bra was exposed to him.

“Every time you walked past me,” he mumbled through the kisses he left on the top of your breasts, “I could smell your fuckin’ perfume. It drove me crazy.”

You moaned in response, your hands tugging at his hair and pulling him closer. The shirt you held between your teeth blocked some of your view of him, so you quickly took it off.

“Fuck, you feel what you do to me?” Brian groaned, grabbing one of your hands and placing it on top of his pants. You could feel his cock through his jeans and he let out a sharp exhale when you squeezed gently.

He allowed you to leave your hand on his pants as he leaned into you again, kissing you once more. This time it was slow, and you let yourself pour everything you felt into the kiss. You felt him do the same, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Brian, if we’re gonna fuck, you better hurry up,” you whispered against his now swollen lips. He laughed and gave you another quick peck before shedding his shirt and throwing it on the ground next to yours.

Your pants were next, and he pulled them down to your ankles but didn’t waste time on taking them all the way off. He did the same with his own pants and boxers, only lowering them enough for his cock to spring free.

You reached out to touch him but he swiftly pinned your hand against the door, leaning in to kiss your cheek affectionately.

“I’ll cum too fast if you touch me right now,” he admitted with a chuckle, but you could tell he was slightly embarrassed. In your opinion, it was hot. It was hot that he was so desperate for you that even your touch could set him off.

“I won’t. Touch me,” you answered. He grinned at you and pulled your sports bra down so your breasts could spill out from the top. He quickly took one nipple in his mouth and used his free hand to tug and play with your other nipple before switching.

His movements were sloppy and needy, but you couldn’t blame him. You felt the exact same way. You had for quite some time.

A loud moan caught in your throat when Brian’s hands traced the waistband of your underwear, pulling it slightly and letting it snap against your skin. He slid his finger down to rub over your clit through your underwear and you tried to stay quiet as you moaned, reaching one hand down to hold onto his wrist.

He rubbed circles on your clit, leaving you impossibly wet. You messily pressed your lips to him and hummed into his mouth when he moved his finger just right.

“Enough, Quinn, we don’t have time,” you mumbled, nibbling on his earlobe and placing a few kisses on the side of his neck. He only grunted in response before removing his hands from you in order to pump his cock a few times, making sure you both were ready.

Brian didn’t bother taking off your underwear, he instead pushed it aside and in one swift movement, he entered you. Both of you moaned at the satisfaction of the feeling, and his head dropped to your shoulder as soon as he started to thrust.

The cold wall was uncomfortable on your naked back but you paid it no mind because all you could focus on was the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, and the sound of his fast breaths meshed with the occasional grunt.

“Fuck, right there,” you whined into his ear as you felt him hold onto your hips and pull them down to meet each of his thrusts. He was going at a fast pace, trying to make sure you both could cum before you had to leave.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, his words muffled as he bit down on your shoulder slightly. You scratched your hands down his back, feeling ecstasy pumping in your veins as he hit your sweet spot over and over.

You felt Brian tap two fingers on your thigh and you took that as an invitation to jump up. He caught both of your legs and guided you so they were wrapped around his waist, allowing him to crowd you further against the wall and reach even deeper with his movements.

Each of his hard thrusts drove you closer and closer to the edge, and in no time, you were falling over it with barely any warning. Your core tightened around Brian and he groaned loudly, his hands running up and down your body.

“Shit, Y/N, ‘m so close,” he stuttered through his words. You once again clenched around him and he whimpered at that.

“Cum for me, Bri,” you murmured into his ear along with a few more praises. That was all it took for him to twitch inside you for a moment, his cum spilling into you as he let out a sharp exhale.

“That was-“

“Perfect,” he finished your sentence, slowly pulling out of you and smirking when he saw his cum leaking out onto the inside of your thighs and all over your underwear.

“Are you gonna stand there and smile like an idiot or are you gonna help me clean up?” You snorted, pushing past him to get the toilet paper and wipe yourself off. You tossed him a few clean squares and he also cleaned up before tossing it in the trash.

Once you fixed your clothes and hair, you made your way to the door. As soon as you put your hand on the handle, Brian was holding your waist from behind to stop you.

“Before you go,” he mumbled into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “I’d like to take you out to dinner sometime.”

You turned around and looked at him like he had three heads.

“Do you know how crazy you sound?”

“Why is that crazy? I love bein’ around you and the sex is fuckin’ incredible,” he grinned, making you smile a little in turn. You knew that a relationship with him would be difficult.

Warnings: none!

Words: 1.7k

Summary: You work on the Impractical Jokers crew, and you can’t deny your feelings for Q despite knowing how wrong it is.

—————

“Y/N, can we get you on the left side?” Pete, the director, called out. You swiftly scurried to the left and adjusted your chunky headphones along with the sound equipment, trying to get everything in order as quickly as possible. The headphones were admittedly too big for you but that hadn’t been dealt with yet.

You watched as Joe, Murr, Sal, and Brian all situated themselves on their marks. Brian and Murr swapped places and filming began.

The job you had was simple. You were in charge of audio; you made sure the mics weren’t rubbing against anything but still invisible to the public, you recorded audio and cut it accordingly, and so on. You were good at your job, and being in the presence of the Impractical Jokers for hours out of a day made your job that much more fun.

After around 20 more minutes of filming, Pete called a break and everyone left their equipment to grab a bite to eat and stretch their legs, you included. You preferred filming in warehouses rather than having to hide in the bushes in public because the warehouse was always stocked with food. Pete would get the interns to run out and make sure that all of the crew, as well as the Jokers, were well fed.

Today was no different. There was a large table with an even larger spread of food on it, and you didn’t know where to start. You weren’t hungry enough to grab a wing out of the bucket of chicken, but you also were not in the mood for vegetables.

“Have you tried those sandwiches?” You heard from your right side. You looked over and smiled when you saw Q who was holding a plate just like you.

“Are they any good?”

“Not the chicken salad one,” he grumbled, pointing with his thumb to show you which sandwich he was talking about, “turkey and cheese is alright. But the ham and cheese? Haven’t lived ‘til you’ve tried it.”

“But ham and cheese is so boring,” you giggled which in turn put a smirk on Q’s face.

“Can’t beat the classics, darlin’. Ham and cheese never let a man down,” he gently bumped your shoulder with his. You laughed again, your face turning a bit red at his casual pet name. You knew it wasn’t odd for him to call the ladies on the crew pet names, but when they were directed to you, you felt special.

Brian Quinn had always been the Joker that caught your eye. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence among the crew, of course. You’d often be involved in conversations with the other women about Q’s handsomeness, or his puppy dog eyes, or his general flirty demeanour.

“So, are you gonna try the ham and cheese?” Brian’s accent cut through your thoughts. You shot him a look and he grabbed two sandwiches, holding one out to you.

“Fine. But if it’s bad,” you warned teasingly, taking the sandwich from his hands and ignoring the way you felt butterflies when his skin brushed against yours.

“If it’s bad, I’ll let you tie me up and put spiders all over me.”

You both laughed at that, but your mind immediately went to tying him up. You couldn’t lie, that episode was difficult to film for you just because you kept getting distracted by the way he looked so helpless when he had handcuffs on.

“I’ll let you know if I like it,” you lifted the packaged sandwich in the air as a silent ‘cheers’ with a slight nod and a smile towards Q. You wasted no time in turning on your heel and abruptly walking away from him, trying to contain your thoughts and not cross any professional boundaries.

You sat and ate the sandwich near a couple of your coworkers, who were chatting away with full mouths. One of the disadvantages of working in the warehouse was that it always grew unbearably stuffy after the first hour or so, due to the cameras and dozens of bodies moving to and fro.

You decided to take the chance when you could and slip away from the productions, making your way outside and taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were alone so you reached into your pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, feeling as though your smoke break was well overdue.

The cigarette hung between your lips waiting to be lit, but you couldn’t find your lighter. You patted down your pockets and sighed when you didn’t find anything, leaning your head against the wall and taking the dart out of your mouth in defeat.

“Need a light?”

You turned your head towards the voice and slapped yourself mentally when you saw Q standing a few feet away. He looked adorable; his hair was down and covering his forehead, he had his signature scarf on, and a lost-puppy sort of look plastered on his face.

“Yes, please,” you agreed against your better judgement. You knew you should minimize your time spent with him, especially alone, but you had been craving this cigarette for the past two hours.

Brian approached you cautiously, as if he was afraid he’d make a wrong move and you’d run away. His worrying was reasonable, though. You never tried to hide the way you avoided him. Though you knew he noticed that you’d never talk to him for more than a minute at a time, he never mentioned anything (you assumed) out of fear of making you more tense.

You placed the dart back in your mouth and leaned towards him when his warm body was only a few inches away from yours. He sparked the lighter with one hand and protected your cigarette from the wind with the other hand, allowing the smoke to finally fill your mouth and give you a small sense of relief.

“Why do you have a lighter?” You asked. You knew he smoked weed occasionally, but that was very rare. You had never seen any of the guys smoke cigarettes, and you couldn’t think of any other reason why he would have a lighter handy like that.

“I smoke,” Brian looked at you, “sometimes.”

“Would you like to share?” You offered, knowing it was a bad idea. He nodded and you handed him the cigarette, watching as he held it between his thick fingers. Your eyes trailed down his right hand, passing the ring and tracing a vein that was popping out slightly.

“Everythin’ okay?” He mumbled, giving you the dart. Your gaze snapped back to his and he smirked a little, huffing out the smoke he inhaled while he watched you take a drag.

“How did I not know you smoke?”

“I don’t do it all the time. Just when I’m feelin’ stressed and need a quick break,” his brown eyes stared into yours, “why do you smoke?”

“It feels nice.”

He laughed at your answer and accepted the cigarette again, his eyes scanning the bit of lipstick that you had left on it. After he took a deep hit, he glanced back over at you, his eyes dropping down to your lips.

“I like that colour on you,” he rasped out, clearing his throat a bit. You felt your face heat up at his compliment. He had never complimented you like that, especially not on something as insignificant as the shade of lipstick you were wearing.

“Uh, thank you,” you replied. You took another drag and sighed when you saw that the cigarette was almost out. You were sort of grateful, though, because it meant you could get away from Brian and recollect your thoughts.

“Why do you always run from me?” Brian whispered, and you would’ve missed it if it wasn’t for the fact that the space around you was deathly quiet.

“What are you talking about?”

“I feel like I’m always havin’ conversations with the crew, but never with you,” he looked at you but you looked away, too embarrassed to make eye contact with him, “do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that,” you sighed, not exactly lying to him but trying your best to avoid answering his question. You couldn’t tell him how attractive you found him. How his smile always made one appear on your face. How his laugh was the best thing you had ever heard, and sometimes you’d rewatch certain episodes just to hear it over and over. You’d cross every line, breach every boundary. It’d ruin your professional relationship.

“What is it, then?”

“I don’t know, Brian,” you huffed out, growing frustrated. It was hard bottling up what you felt, but you didn’t have a choice.

“I think you do, sweetheart,” he quietly murmured. You shot your eyes to him and watched him drop the cigarette to the ground, lightly stepping on it to put it out before turning to face you.

He stood in front of you now, his tall figure intimidating you slightly. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you were going to throw up, but you also couldn’t help the way your hands moved to grip the lapels of his jacket until your knuckles turned white.

“Is this the reason you never look me in the eye properly?” He teased, his right hand engulfing one of your wrists as you hung on to him for dear life. Brian leaned in a little more, his nose bumping into yours. His left hand travelled down your side until it attached to your hip, giving you a light squeeze that left your knees weak. It felt like you were winded and you couldn’t think straight. You wanted to kiss him, but you knew you couldn’t.

“Brian, we shouldn’t -fuck- I can’t,” you stuttered, using your hands on his chest to push him back slightly and give yourself room to breathe. He looked confused but backed up, his face flushed due to embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” Brian quickly apologized, looking at you with concern.

“No, I mean yes, but no,” your words came out randomly, desperately trying to form proper sentences but your mind was too scrambled to do so. The proximity between you and Brian was too close.

“Y/N, are you out here?” You heard Pete call out your name as he turned the corner and you didn’t dare to give Brian another glance before responding to the director and hurrying in his direction.

If Pete saw anything at all, you’d be absolutely fucked. You had to stay away from Brian to prevent anything like this ever happening again.

Warnings: smut!

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Q and you fuck occasionally. That’s it.

A/N: i wrote this while high so enjoy lol

—————

Brian Quinn was your fuck buddy. There wasn’t any other way to put it. When he came around your area, you two would meet up to satisfy your needs with no strings attached. He often visited your state simply to see you, and he’d always say the same thing; “No one does it the way you do.” The praise made you feel good about yourself so you continued to see him, ignoring all your gut instincts telling you that you’d get hurt.

Tonight was no different from any of your previous meetups. He had come in a bit late, around 11:30pm, and you two went straight to the bottle of whiskey that you had prepared.

Beyond just fuck buddies, you two were good friends. There was always an air of sexual tension surrounding you and one fateful night when you kissed him after getting drunk at some event, it started the whole friends-with-benefits situation.

“I’d like it if you came with us,” Brian mumbled while he licked his lips to get rid of the excess whiskey.

“That sounds fun,” you agreed at his invitation to go on the cruise with him and the guys soon. The Jokers knew about you, but they didn’t know about the arrangement you had with Brian. They just assumed you two were close friends (which they weren’t exactly wrong about).

“You look gorgeous tonight,” Q told you, looking at you with dark eyes.

“I’d look even more gorgeous without clothes on,” you joked while gulping down the rest of your drink before climbing into Brian’s lap so you were straddling him, needy and bold. You rested your elbows on his shoulders and linked your hands together behind his head. His large hands laid on your hips, leaving gentle squeezes every now and then.

“I know,” he murmured as he leaned in close to you, slanting his mouth over yours. You moaned at the feeling you had missed unknowingly. His hands smoothed up and down your back, occasionally moving down to your thighs and tracing shapes there.

You two sat making out for the next few minutes before you started to grind against Brian, growing more and more desperate as his kisses became sloppier. Brian moved his hips with yours and his grip on your legs tightened significantly.

“Bedroom,” you whispered against Brian’s lips. He wasted no time as he hoisted you up and carried you to your bedroom, where he placed you gently on the bed. You pulled him down with you and took his shirt off, sighing in pleasure as he started to untie the strings on your sweatpants and tug them down your legs before pulling your shirt off.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured as he sat on his heels, taking in the sight of your almost naked body. You felt your skin heat up under his gaze and he gave you a quick smirk, knowing exactly what he did to you.

“On your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he ordered. His authorities tone sent shivers down your spine and you swiftly obeyed his words, turning over so you were on your hands and knees in front of him. He gently grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him, bumping against you. You could feel his hardening cock through his pants and you moaned, dropping your head down as he continued to grind against you.

The cold metal of his zipper rubbed against you in a painful yet exciting way, only working to make your noises louder. You felt one of his hands glide over to your bra which he quickly undid before throwing it onto the floor. He then used that same hand to apply firm pressure between your shoulders, forcing you to get on your elbows and arch your back slightly. He groaned and sped up a little, his cock now fully hard as your light moans filled the stuffy air.

“Brian, enough teasing,” you whined, pushing your hips back to meet his shallow thrusts in an effort to get any bit of friction that you could. He hummed in response and you lost contact with him, causing you to sigh.

Your disappointment didn’t last long as you could hear him unzipping his pants and taking them off. From the corner of your eye you could see that his boxers were now on the floor too, and within seconds his tip was rubbing you through your underwear.

His groan meshed with yours as he pushed aside your underwear and finally slid into you. His thrusts started off steady, making sure you both were comfortable while also warming up. You let out a whimper at his agonizingly slow pace and he chuckled from behind you, pushing one hand into your hair and tugging it hard enough that it lifted your head back so he could lean in and whisper in your ear.

“Keep whining and you won’t be gettin’ off tonight.”

His breath fanned across your neck and made you shiver. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, the same scent surrounded the two of you as Brian continued to give you thrusts that couldn’t bring you enough pleasure.

“Q, please,” you whispered desperately, wanting nothing more than for him to use you the way he always did. He never took it very slow with you, so this was a surprise. It wasn’t exactly unwelcome but you weren’t quite used to it.

“Shh, baby, be patient,” he replied calmly, his right arm snaking under you so he could hold your waist close to his chest as he leaned over you. His head dropped to your shoulder and you pressed the side of your head against his. Q let out a quiet sigh as he rocked his hips against yours gently.

The moment felt oddly intimate. You didn’t know exactly what to feel; his cock inside you was obviously great, but you had never been cared for like this. Especially not by him. He was the person you called to let off all the frustration and anger that you carried. That usually meant fast-paced, loud, almost animalistic sex. But you were okay with that because that’s what you both needed to blow off some steam.

This was different, though. The way Brian had both his arms wrapped around you to keep you close, his thumbs rubbing your skin carefully. The way his eyes were shut peacefully and his breathing was slowing down. The way he seemed to be savouring the time he spent with you. It was foreign to you.

“Fuck, Y/N, what am I gonna do with you?” he finally broke the silence, his voice sounding tired. You didn’t know what he meant by that but you didn’t have time to think it over because he was slowly starting to pick up his pace.

In no time his hips were hitting yours at a brutal speed, his fingertips digging into your waist and no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents on your skin. All you could do was let out whines and grip the sheets under you, your body so focused on the feeling of Brian moving in and out of you that you couldn’t even hold your head up properly.

“Right there!” You cried when Brian hit a specific spot inside of you. He groaned and repeatedly drove himself into that spot, making your legs start to tremble.

“You feel so good, baby,” he huffed out, one of his hands burying itself deep in your hair while the other wrapped around you to grab your chest. He played with your nipple while tugging your hair and slamming into you, and you could almost see stars.

The breaking point for you was when he leaned in close again, the hand that was on your breasts moving down to rub light circles on your clit while he continued to pound into you. With a choked out warning you came, and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear while you rode out your high.

“That’s it, darlin’. You’re doin’ so well for me,” Brian rasped out, his voice deep and gravelly. You squeezed your core around him and were rewarded with an immediate growl as Brian’s hips faltered for a second.

“Shit, ‘m gonna cum,” he dropped his head to your shoulder and kept up his relentless pace. His hand was still rubbing lazy circles on you and you could feel the sensitivity wash away and turn back into pleasure.

You stopped Brian’s thrusts and quickly turned around so you could kiss him. He hungrily kissed back, pinning your hands that were searching his body down on the pillow. He broke away from the kiss and quickly scanned your body for a second before positioning himself to enter you again.

“You make me feel so good,” he murmured to you, his brown eyes locked on the way he fit so perfectly in you.

“God, Brian,” you had tears in your eyes because of the sensitivity, but you didn’t mind it. You knew it would make your mascara run but Brian loved when you looked totally fucked out, so you allowed your makeup to get messed up.

Brian slowed down his pace, proving his clearly copious amounts of self control as he took his time. You were surprised he hadn’t cum yet but you were more than happy with him staying like this.

His eyes slowly met yours and he kissed you quickly, pulling away and just admiring you.

There was the intimacy again.

You began to meet each of his thrusts and he sped up a little bit, pumping into you as much as he could. You knew he was close by the way his grip tightened on the sheets and his mouth attached to your neck, sucking a hickey on there.

With a few more pushes and praise from you, he spilled his load into you.

“Fuck,” he closed his eyes and pulled out of you, “I didn’t mean to finish inside.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, knowing you were on the pill. He gave you a weak smile and rolled onto the bed next to you, taking a few moments to catch his breath. Eventually he got up and you followed suit, using the bathroom and cleaning yourself up with his help.

Brian relocated the two of you to his guest bedroom, telling you that he’d clean up his room tomorrow morning. You could only hum in response, feeling fucked out and satisfied.

You were already in bed when Brian finally joined you, the bed sinking slightly with his weight. You leaned in closer to him and he put one arm around you, using the other to prop his head up.

“You mean a lot to me,” Q grinned at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

His words made your heartbeat speed up. You didn’t really know how to respond.

“You, uh, mean a lot to me too.” He chuckled as you stumbled over your words.

After a bit more conversation you felt too tired to keep your eyes open, so you cuddled into Brian’s bare chest and closed your heavy eyes.

Warnings: none!

Words: 2.2k

Summary: While in charge of watching two kids, you got to see Brian interact with them. Safe to say you had never been more in love.

—————

You felt sick. You were covered in baby saliva, your hair was knotted up from getting pulled on, you had bags under your eyes, and you couldn’t take any more.

When your sister-in-law asked you to watch your twin one year old nieces, you agreed thinking it wouldn’t be a big deal. You had taken a babysitting course in high school, you assumed it would be a piece of cake. Sure, high school was years ago, but that didn’t matter. You would still be able to do it.

Now, as you tried to herd one baby while feeding the other, you regretted your decision. The twins had given you absolute hell for the past two days, and with another two to go, you didn’t know how you were going to survive.

You felt like breaking down into tears. You didn’t understand who would willing want to go through this, and you didn’t know how your sister and sister-in-law managed to make it look so fucking easy. They raised twins while also making time for their social life, and you hadn’t realized how much work it actually took until now.

Your boyfriend, Brian, never showed any interest in having kids. Neither did you. The two of you had sat down one night and had a long talk about your future together and what it would look like, and though you couldn’t settle on what kind of house to buy together, you could definitely agree on not having children.

You groaned as you heard your phone ring in the other room. With one baby being cradled in one arm, you managed to scoop up the other one and race to the kitchen to put the bottle down and grab your phone.

A small smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was Brian who was calling. After struggling a bit, you successfully picked up the phone.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Brian’s deep voice flooded your ears and gave you a huge sense of relief. Even just being able to listen to him gave you comfort, which you so desperately needed.

“Hey,” you sighed tiredly.

“You okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” you said, feeling frustrated and helpless as one of the twins started pulling on your hair while the other popped your necklace in her mouth.

“Still watchin’ those kids, eh?” He mumbled sympathetically. You were so jealous of him. He got to film things and have fun with his three best friends while you were stuck making sure these girls didn’t die on top of also making sure you didn’t die.

“Brian, I can’t fucking do this,” you didn’t try to censor your words as it didn’t really matter around them, “I thought I could but I can’t. They’re kicking my ass.”

“How much longer do you have to keep ‘em?”

“Two days,” you said, maneuvering your wrist in an awkward position so you could pick up your phone without putting one of the girls down. You made your way to the couch and put them both in a little play area you had set up before falling down on the couch ungraciously.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he offered. You hummed into the phone and closed your eyes for a minute, giving yourself a bit to breathe. You hadn’t sat down without monitoring the kids the past two days, and you didn’t think you’d be able to do it for the next two. It really shouldn’t be this difficult, you knew that, but something about being around kids made you nervous which led to you making mistakes. Mistakes that you knew were preventable, and mistakes that you knew your sister and her wife wouldn’t have made, but you couldn’t help it. You just weren’t good with kids.

But you were their godmother. You couldn’t say no to watching them.

“Still there?” Brian’s voice broke through your thoughts. You only hummed again.

“Talk to me, Y/N. Tell me what’s goin’ on,” he sounded worried, and though you hated worrying him, you didn’t have the energy to comfort him. All you wanted to do was sleep.

“I don’t know, Brian. I just fucking know the girls are gonna do something bad if I’m not watching, so I feel like I can’t look away from them for a second,” you felt tears well up in your eyes and you sniffled to try and get rid of them, “I feel like I’m not helping. I’m just so bad at this, and I still have two days. I don’t know how I’m gonna get through it.”

“You know you’re doin’ a good job, right? The fact that you were even willin’ to help means a lot to your sister,” Brian comforted you, his words only making the lump in your throat worse as you willed yourself to not cry, “I know it’s hard, but you’ll be okay. Those girls love you, and I love you. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you’re gonna take care of those kids to the best of your ability. They’re lucky to have you, baby.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. All the built up frustration from even the simple things like having to dress the girls when they refused to, when they pushed away the bottles during feeding time, when they stayed awake half the night and made as much noise as they possibly could. That paired with your boyfriends sweet words broke you down. It all came rushing out and you didn’t try to stop it.

“It’s alright, darlin’. I know,” Brian murmured. You tried to imagine him holding you and you cried a little harder at that. You missed him. He was often busy filming and you’d only really spend time with him on odd hours as he had lots of things to do. You knew that he wanted to be with you all the time, but his job as well as yours was very demanding of time and that made it very difficult to spend time together.

“I’m so sorry, Brian. I didn’t mean to take up your time with this,” you felt guilty for forcing this onto him knowing that he was always working himself to the bone.

“Don’t apologize. I’m here for you,” he mumbled, and you heard a car lock nearby, “physically, too. Open the door for me.”

Was he being serious?

“I’m waitin’, baby,” you heard him knock a few times and you hung up the phone, checking on the girls once before basically sprinting to the door.

You whipped it open and immediately embraced your boyfriend, inhaling the scent of whiskey and pot as it filled your nose. He put his arms around you and held you close, giving you comforting squeezes and whispering a ‘hello’ in your hair where he also pressed a kiss.

“Fuck, hold on. The girls,” you pulled away from Brian and quickly walked back to the babies, hearing Q close the door and lock it before he followed suit.

You felt his eyes on your back as you picked up one of your nieces who was crying as she held a stuffed toy that was covered in spit, much like you.

“Shh, it’s okay, love. You’re okay,” you soothed the baby, taking the toy out of her hands and animating it to make her giggle. She eventually stopped crying and went back to sucking on the poor bear’s paw.

“So it’s been like that for the past few days, huh?”

“That wasn’t the worst of it, Quinn,” you huffed as you combed your fingers through your hair. Brian approached you and replaced your hands with his own, using them to fix your hair and cradle your face lovingly.

“You’re doin’ a hell of a job,” Brian whispered as he pressed a kiss to your lips. You returned it gratefully, wrapping your arms around his neck as his encircled your waist.

Even just the simple act of kissing your boyfriend made everything feel better. Your nose was still a bit stuffy from crying and you knew your eyes would be red and puffed up, but Brian still looked at you with raw love deep in his brown eyes. He petted your hair and kissed you again, this time pushing his nose in your neck and hugging you when you pulled away from the peck.

You rested your hands on his large forearms and sighed, finally feeling a bit of peace. That peace was broken as quickly as it was formed, though, as one of the girls began babbling loudly. You turned and saw her crawling towards a glass of water that you had put on the coffee table, and you couldn’t do anything as she toppled it over.

The water spilled onto the hardwood floor and you whined, swiftly pushing your boyfriend off of you so you could pick up the baby and make sure she was okay. You could deal with the spill later.

You checked the time and saw that it was around their nap time, so you bent down and lifted up the other girl. You knew they were getting tired as their babbling had come to a halt and their eyes drooped as you walked up the stairs and into the nursery. Putting them into their respective cribs, you made sure they were clean and tiptoed out of the room, praying to whoever was up there that they’d sleep peacefully.

Now to clean the spill. A task that was usually straightforward and basic had never seemed so impossible. Even as you stepped down the stairs you could feel your limbs begging you to take a break, and you almost collapsed right then and there. By the last two steps, you were swaying on your feet, and your boyfriend luckily noticed and briskly walked over to you so he could pick you up bridal style and carry you over to the couch.

He fluffed up a pillow and wedged it under your head, pulling up a thin blanket to your chin and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“No, let me clean the spill,” you slurred, already feeling the hours of sleep you lost catching up to you.

“I got it, sweetheart. Close your eyes,” he kissed you again and you were too tired to protest. Soon enough, you were dead asleep.

Still, at the back of your mind, you were thinking of the girls. That’s why the second your eyes opened again, you searched the room for them. When you eyes finally landed on them, you felt your heart melt.

Brian was gently cradling both of them in his big arms, holding them close to his chest as he hummed quietly, a bottle in both of their mouths. You didn’t disrupt the moment, instead taking a second to come to your senses and just take in the domestic scene in front of you.

“Shh, princess, it’s okay,” he mumbled to one of the girls who began babbling, “gotta stay quiet so your aunt can sleep, right?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of one of the girls head before doing the same to the other one, mumbling something you couldn’t hear into her hair. Though you weren’t fond of kids, the interaction in front of you made you weak in the knees.

“Are you girls done eatin’?” Brian asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a response. He put them down and took the bottles away before placing two towels over both of his shoulders and picking up the twins again to burp them.

“That’s it, princess. There you go,” he encouraged as he patted their backs gently. Hearing the way his usually loud voice dropped down to just above a whisper, his voice getting higher pitched as he talked to them, and just overall how careful he was being made you swoon. Not to mention the adorable nickname he gave the girls.

“Alright. I know we had some trouble changin’ you two but I think I got it now,” Brian told the twins, pulling them off his shoulder and into his lap. He lifted his knees up and down to bounce them slowly and they giggled.

“I can change them,” you finally spoke up, deciding that he had done more than enough for you and them. Brian’s eyes shot to yours and a grin broke out on his face.

“Good mornin’, sweetheart,” he mumbled quietly. You returned it and walked to him, pressing a kiss to his lips before sitting down crisscross in front of him. You opened your arms and he gave you one of the twins.

“Thank you, Brian. I really appreciate you looking after them,” you kept your gaze on the beautiful baby in front of you for a moment before making eye contact with your boyfriend. He was already staring at you with a light pink dusting on his face.

“It’s no problem. They’re really good.”

“Thought you didn’t like kids.”

“I don’t. But I’ll make an exception for ‘em.”

You laughed and the baby in your lap raised her arms up and down, trying to grab a hold of your hair. Brian carefully reached over and pulled your hair into a messy ponytail before tying it up for you.

“I love you so much,” you told him, feeling tears prick at your eyes. He leaned over to kiss you, making sure not to disrupt the baby in his lap.

Warnings: smut!

Words: 7k (a long one, sorry)

Summary: You had always had a thing for your older brother’s best friend. What happens on what you thought would be a friendly game night with the guys?

—————

You, Joe, Sal, Murr, and Q were all seated on couches with a coffee table in the middle. You sat next to your older brother, Sal, with Joe on your left. Murr and Q sat on the other couch, both of them hiding their cards from each other.

Tonight was game night, a tradition that you five had developed over the years. It first started off as a once every few weeks sort of thing, but after seeing how much fun it was, it turned into a weekly night. Every Friday the five of you would get together at either Sal or Q’s house to play cards, drink, talk, and very rarely smoke the night away.

“Q, I saw your chubby fingers grab that card!” Murr yelled, reaching for Q’s cards. He pulled them away from Murr’s reach and Murr huffed in anger.

Tonight’s game of choice was Uno (as picked by Q, who was hosting game night), and it proved to be the most aggressive game the five of you had ever played. All of you got incredibly competitive during any game, but Uno took the win.

“You’re just mad that Joe skipped your turn twice already,” Q retorted while putting his cards in order. You watched his hands as he did so, mesmerized by the way his thick fingers moved gently across the cards as well as by the noise his ring made against the glass when he reached to take a sip of his whiskey.

You looked up for a second and locked eyes with Q, who was already staring at you unabashedly after catching you observing him. You felt your face heat up and you averted your gaze to your beer that was in front of you, suddenly finding the amber liquid very interesting as you tried to avoid eye contact with Q.

“Y/N, your turn,” Sal mumbled to you, leaning back on the couch and covering his cards. You took a look at your hand, it wasn’t too bad. The colour was currently on yellow, which you had an abundance of. Everyone was down to 4 cards except for Murr, who had to pick up an additional 4 after Joe played.

You put down a yellow 6 and looked at Joe, who placed down another skip turn card. Everyone but Murr laughed loudly.

“Fuck you!” Murr groaned, putting his head in his hands.

You couldn’t help but stare again when Q thumbed through the cards he had, his captivating brown eyes focused intensely on the cards in his hands. He used his right hand, the one with a ring, to put down a colour change card.

“Red,” he grumbled before looking up at you, catching you staring at his hands again. You tried to play it off and forced yourself to look at Murr before smiling. You were beyond embarrassed.

Q was Sal’s best friend. You had always found him easy on the eyes, but you were a good 23 years younger than him. He was double your age, and you didn’t know why in the world you found him so attractive. You knew you could never say anything, not just because of the age gap, but because it was your brothers friend. Even if you wanted something, Q and Sal had a relationship a bit stronger with each other than the rest of the guys, so you knew for a fact that Q would never do anything to hurt Sal. If anything happened to you and Sal found out, he would go fucking crazy. He was very, very protective of you.

It was your turn again, and you let out a small whine when you realized you didn’t have any red cards. You noticed Q shift in his seat when you let out a noise but you didn’t pay any attention to it after promising yourself that you wouldn’t stare at him again for the entire night.

You sadly picked up a card and the game proceeded until Q won with a victorious hoot and a shitty celebratory dance to rub it in Murr’s face.

“Get your fat out of my face,” Murr pushed Q who only laughed. Sal stood up and gestured to your drink, silently asking if you wanted another. You nodded and he took your empty bottle before heading down to the kitchen.

“Are we playin’ another round?” Q asked, finishing his drink.

“I vote we talk for a while,” Joe spoke up from beside you. You hummed in agreement and leaned back on the couch, still trying your best to look everywhere but at Q.

Sal returned with your beer as well as his own. He handed it off to you and you frowned when you saw the label.

“This isn’t the one I like,” you complained to your brother. He rolled his eyes at you, pushing your head slightly.

“It’s still a beer. Just drink it,” he told you.

You would if you didn’t despise the brand so much. The last time you drank it, you threw up simply because of the taste. You just couldn’t stomach it.

“Fuck you. I’m gonna grab the other one,” you mumbled as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You heard someone else say that they were also going to go grab a drink but you didn’t listen hard enough to tell who it was. It could only be either Murr or Q, as Sal just got his beer and Joe didn’t drink.

You opened the fridge and leaned down to put the gross beer away and grab a bottle of the kind you liked, still keeping your head in the fridge as you popped off the top and took a swig.

“Move over, sweetheart,” Q’s distinctive voice sounded from behind you as he put one hand gently on your hip to push you slightly. His accent and touch made your entire body tingle and you felt weak as you stumbled out of his way, watching as he grabbed the same type of beer that you did.

You always grew flustered around him. And now that he had been growing out his hair as well as his beard, you were weak in the knees when you even thought about him.

But he probably saw you like a little sister. He knew you since you were a kid. He would never look at you the way you looked at him.

“When did you start drinkin’?” Q asked, taking a swig of his beer. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and you quickly sipped some of your own drink to distract you.

“Legally? Two years ago,” you answered, earning a deep chuckle from him. One that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“What about illegally?”

“Probably around 15,” you admitted. He looked at you, shocked.

“I remember when you were young. Such a good girl,” he reminisced, taking another swig. The good girl didn’t slip by unnoticed, and you seriously thought you were going to collapse.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, “don’t tell Sal. He’d kill me.”

“I won’t say a word,” Q patted his chest with his right hand, and you immediately got images where that same hand travelled down your body and to the spot where you needed him the most. You knew his hands would be skilled, with years of experience under his belt. You could practically feel his rough finger pads trailing down your thighs as he pounded into you relentlessly, your throat sore from screaming his name.

“You okay?” Q’s voice broke through your fantasy and you snapped your eyes back to him, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. You gave him a short nod and speedily headed out of the kitchen and back to your spot on the couch, thoroughly embarrassed for even thinking about all of that. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before, but doing it right in front of him? That was a different story. Drinking always made you incredibly horny and unfortunately you were almost always drinking when you were with the Jokers, which meant your mind went crazy with the thoughts about Q.

“Y/N, you’re coming with us, right?” Joe asked from your left side as he threw an arm around the back of the couch. You leaned into it, resting your head on his shoulder as you hummed in confusion when you heard his question.

“To Vegas,” he added.

“I’m not sure if I can get time off of work,” you said, breathing in the scent of his cologne that mixed with laundry detergent. Joe was always the person you looked up to out of the group, other than your brother. He was always ready to help you no matter what, and he had comforted you through stupid heartbreaks in high school all the way to financial troubles in your early adulthood.

“God, just quit your job at this point,” Sal laughed, “you’re always taking time off. You’re there, like, 10% of the time.”

“I know, but how am I gonna make money if I quit my job?”

“Work for us,” Murr butted in. You looked at him, puzzled.

“No, he’s right for once. We could get you a job on our crew. That way you could travel with us and make money,” Joe said excitedly, putting his hand around your shoulders and giving you a gentle squeeze. The thought of being able to spend all your time with them was incredibly appealing to you. You loved them so much.

“Wow, Murr actually had a decent idea,” Sal joked, making you all laugh.

“I’d love to do that,” you said, already working on your letter of resignation in your head.

“Perfect. We go to Vegas next month, so just quit by then and we’ll take care of the rest,” Sal looked like an excited little kid on Christmas. You nodded ecstatically and leaned further into Joe, who pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

You noticed that Q was (not unusually) quiet and when you glanced at him, you saw that he was already staring you down with dark eyes. You swallowed thickly and tore your gaze away from him, instead focusing on Joe’s other hand, which you were playing with absentmindedly in your lap. You spun the ring on Joe’s ring finger around a few times, which reminded you of Q’s ring. He never took it off, and he had mentioned a few times that it was a gift that meant a lot to him. He was never very open about it so you didn’t try to push any questions on him.

“You doing okay, honey?” Joe whispered in your ear while the other three guys talked loudly, the alcohol disappearing quickly.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering why you aren’t making fun of us and talking as much as you normally do.”

You were, admittedly, very distracted. After the encounter with Q in the kitchen, you couldn’t seem to fully focus on anything without your mind replaying the way he called you sweetheart, his hand on your hip, and the scenario you imagined.

“I’m just a bit tired,” you lied. You felt bad about it, but you couldn’t exactly say that you had been having fantasies about fucking Brian Quinn like you were a hormonal teenager again. You trusted Joe with all your heart, but this was a secret you were ready to take to the grave.

“Hey, don’t feel obligated to stay. If you wanna head home then by all means, go for it. I can even give you a ride,” Joe replied. You smiled at his sincerity and leaned in closer to him, telling him that you were fine and wanted to stay longer.

Time flew by as you forced yourself to get involved in more conversations so you could avoid Joe’s persistent question of whether you were okay or not. Before you knew it, it was already almost 3 in the morning.

“I’ve gotta run,” Murr mumbled, checking his watch, “I promised my dad I’d have breakfast with him.”

“Yeah, I better leave too. It’s getting late,” Sal huffed as he stood up, looking at you expectantly, “you coming with me?”

You didn’t want to leave. You sometimes had trouble falling asleep after drinking, and you felt that sensation tonight. If you went home, you wouldn’t be able to sleep so you might as well stay up and talk with your friends rather than lay in your bed and stare at your ceiling as the hours passed by.

“I drove myself so I’ll leave in 10,” you answered your brother. He gave you a shrug and hugged you before doing the same with the guys. He headed to the front door with Murr right behind him.

“Are you not tired?” Joe asked you.

“No, not really.”

“Jesus Christ, kids these days,” Joe teased, squeezing your shoulder, “old guys like Q and I get tired at 6pm. Isn’t that right, buddy?”

“Spot on,” Q mumbled with his lips wrapped around the top of his bottle. He tilted his head back and chugged the last few gulps before burping loudly, making both you and Joe groan. You stopped yourself from staring at Q’s smile, and you turned your attention to the way Joe’s chest rose and fell with every breath.

“Are you comin’ on set tomorrow?” Q asked, making unflinchingly steady eye contact with you.

“Yeah, uh, I think so,” you stuttered a little, nervous from the way he was looking at you. You couldn’t tell what exactly was in his eyes, but it was something that wasn’t there earlier.

“Good. We love having you there,” Joe added with another kiss to your head. You heard Q let out a sharp exhale when Joe did that, and you raised a brow. This time it was Q who looked away, a light pink blush dusting his handsome face. It could’ve been because he was tipsy, though.

“Alright, I should leave,” Joe finally said, pulling his hand from around you despite your protests, “I’ve gotta drive Milana to her appointment in the morning.”

With a few goodbyes and another kiss on your forehead, Joe was gone.

Now it was just you and Brian sitting on opposite sides of each other, and you couldn’t tell what was in the air, but it was suffocating. You never felt awkward one on one with any of the guys, but tonight was different. Maybe it was because of the flashes of images that kept playing in your head, ones where Q had you bent over various countertops in his house.

“Beer?” Q asked, standing up. You nodded and handed him your now empty bottle. He took it from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment. You felt that same tingle you felt earlier as you quickly pulled your hand back to your side.

Q returned a few moments later and handed you your drink before taking a seat beside you instead of across from you. He still put a respectful amount of space between you two, even with Sal not watching like a hawk.

Sal didn’t know you had feelings for Q, but he was protective over you around anything that breathed if it wasn’t a female. He would make sure that every guy (other than Joe for whatever reason) sat a good amount of space away from you, and Q always respected that with no complaints. It disappointed you a bit, knowing that he didn’t really care to sit close to you, but you couldn’t expect anything else. It’s not like your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“Are you excited for Vegas?” You broke the silence.

“Oh, definitely. Filmin’ on the road is always so much fun,” Q smiled, turning so his eyes met yours. You froze a little but brushed it off, trying to make yourself seem as normal as possible.

“You excited to join us?” He questioned.

“Of course. I love being around you guys,” you grinned, already feeling laughter bubble up when you thought about all the fun memories you had with them every time you travelled somewhere.

You took a swig of your drink and Q watched you with interest. You gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry, it’s still so weird seein’ you drink,” he said in his gravelly voice, “I just keep remembering when you were younger.”

He brought up that conversation again and you got a quick flashback of him calling you a good girl. You thanked god that you were sitting because you knew that you would’ve toppled over if you were standing.

“Yeah, it’s weird being able to do things legally. No more fake IDs when I buy weed,” you giggled and he gave you a fake surprised face.

“You’re, uh, 22 right?”

“23.”

“Right,” he nodded at your correction, his hand making its way to the back of his neck.

“Things seem so odd now. I look at everything differently.”

“Like what?”

“Like you guys being 20 years older than me. I used to think about how old you all were, but now it doesn’t feel like that far away,” you were subconsciously hinting at the age gap between you and Q, but it truly wasn’t on purpose.

“Yet you still call us old men,” he chuckled, which made you laugh.

“I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I kinda hate it,” Q admitted, his voice growing deeper as he became serious. You looked at him, concerned. Did you cross a line by calling him that? Did you make him uncomfortable?

“Just makes me feel like your fuckin’ uncle or something.”

“Why do you hate that?” You asked, confused. You grew up calling the Jokers your uncles.

“I dunno. Just reminds me of how much younger you are,” he said, his voice bitter. You grew even more confused.

“So?”

“Never mind,” he stopped the conversation, leaving you with a puzzled look on your face as he sipped his beer. You did the same and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Let’s play a game,” you finally said, tired of the silence. Though it wasn’t uncomfortable, you would just rather be doing something. Q hummed in agreement and turned his head to look at you.

“What game?”

“Never have I ever?”

“Sure. You start,” Q said, tapping his ring against the glass of his bottle like he often did. You thought for a minute.

“Never have I ever… been handcuffed while spiders crawled all over me,” you laughed a little. He groaned and took a sip of his drink, giving you a jokingly dirty glare. You had to admit, that episode made you feel a lot of things. Seeing him tied up, his stomach and arms tensing when the spiders were placed on him, the sweat and look of desperation on his face. It made you incredibly horny, to the point where you had to take a cold shower (which ended up not doing anything because your stupid mind wouldn’t let the image go, meaning you had to get yourself off to finally relieve some of the painfully annoying feelings that bubbled inside of you).

“Alright, if you wanna play like that,” Q grumbled, “never have I ever hid a bong from Sal by putting it under my pillow.”

“Unfair.”

“And yours wasn’t? Drink up, sweetheart,” his face had a cocky smirk on it. There was that pet name again. You reluctantly took a swig and gulped thickly, trying to wash down the feeling of need that was starting to rise inside of you.

“But really, why did you hide it under your pillow of all places?” Q teased.

“I panicked, okay? Not my fault,” he laughed at your answer and so did you.

“Okay, never have I ever,” you thought for a bit, actually wanting to play the game now, “gotten into a fist fight.”

Q took a drink.

“With who?”

“Is that part of the game?” He teased, his smile making your limbs feel like jelly.

“Just answer.”

“It was at a bar, really late at night. This guy was startin’ to yell and get angry at the bartender,” Brian explained, using his hands to gesture, “I told him off and he pulled me outside. We just started wailin’ on each other.”

“Did you win?”

“Of course, but I have some pretty nasty scars from it. Had to get stitches on my knuckles as well as my eyebrow,” he told you, moving closer to you so you could see his knuckles. He wasn’t lying, there was a bit of pinched skin around three of his knuckles on his right hand from punching the guy. Brian told you to look at his eyebrow next, and when you tilted your face to do so, you were only about 4 inches away from his face. Your breath hitched in your throat but you tried to remain calm as you looked at his brow, reaching out to move his hair out of his face so you could examine the scar. Sure enough, it was there.

“Your turn,” you mumbled, putting space between you two so you could give yourself a much needed chance to slow your heart rate.

“Never have I ever,” Brian paused, looking like he was debating the question. The alcohol must have given him courage, though, because the next words out of his mouth were, “been with someone that was older than me.”

You bashfully took a sip.

“How old?” Q asked, raising a brow at you with a playful smile on his face. You covered your face with your hands.

“Don’t tell Sal.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“He was in his late 40s,” you let the words out in your hands. Q let out a rumbling laugh, and you peeked at him.

“How old were you?”

“It was like, a week after I turned 21,” you sighed, uncovering your face. What you didn’t tell Q was the fact that the man you hooked up with resembled him. He had long hair and a beard with grey streaks, and nearly the same build. You had gotten drunk and wanted Brian so badly that you had to hook up with someone that reminded you of him just to satisfy yourself. That was the embarrassing part.

“Never have I ever been with someone younger than me,” you flipped Q’s question on him. He smirked and leaned back, taking a quick sip of his drink.

“How young?” You asked, truly curious. If the person was as young as you, you’d be happy. Not that it meant you had a chance, but it would somehow be comforting.

“Uh, it was about two years ago. She was 25,” he admitted, peeking at you to gauge your reaction. You weren’t 25, but it was pretty close. That made you feel better.

“Never have I ever,” he stopped himself again and you sighed mentally. You wanted him to just spit out whatever came to his mind, and the alcohol clouding your brain was making you more impatient. He finally finished his sentence though, with it being, “had someone spit a drink in my mouth.”

You didn’t raise your bottle, finally. You looked at him with a bemused expression, wondering if he had done that. The corners of his mouth quirked up and that was enough to answer your question.

“Do you want to?” He asked, now looking at you deep in your eyes. You squirmed in your seat, suddenly feeling like you were overheating.

“Do I want to what?”

“Have someone spit a drink in your mouth.”

You couldn’t tell if he meant in general, or if he was talking about himself. That left you on the fence.

“Are you offering?” The liquid courage spoke for you, and your mind was already focusing on the way Q licked his lips slowly, the way he manspread so deliciously in front of you, his large hands that fidgeted with his ring. You were slowly growing desperate as the air grew thicker, and that somehow made you even bolder.

“What if I am?” Brian teased, the cocky smirk never leaving his face. You felt your pulse quicken.

“Then I’d say yes.”

Q nodded and took a swig of his drink, keeping it in his mouth instead of swallowing. He inched closer to you, giving you plenty of time to refuse and tell him off. When he saw that you were fine (other than the blushing and shaky hands), he proceeded to move closer.

He was finally close enough for his scent to fill your nose. It was like a drug. The faint smell of cologne mixed with the smell of beer and his own scent went straight to your core, making you shiver as he moved even closer to you. Sal’s rules were out the window as Brian raised a hand to cup your cheek. You tilted your head upwards and closed your eyes, feeling fire in your stomach when Brian’s lips brushed against yours slightly.

It only lasted a moment before Q opened his mouth and let the drink spill from his mouth to yours. He backed away as soon as it was over, leaving you with tingly lips and dizziness. Never in your life did you think you’d ever get that close with Q. Your lips had touched his.

You swallowed the beer that Q had let fall into your mouth and he watched you with hungry eyes. You wiped the bit of beer that trickled out of your mouth with your thumb, before sucking on it to get the tasty liquid off. Q couldn’t hold back a slight groan at that, and you clenched your thighs together.

“Your turn,” Q mumbled, adjusting himself and changing the topic. You followed his lead.

“Never have I ever fucked someone that I wasn’t supposed to fuck,” you almost whispered, feeling more bold than ever. Q’s eyes widened at your words and he cleared his throat.

“Shit I, uh,” he messed with his ring, “I’ve never fucked her. Just thought about it.”

Could he be talking about you? The chances were slim, but it wasn’t impossible. After his little drink stunt, you were feeling hopeful. You knew if you properly tested him, he would succumb to you. But you wanted to tease a little longer just to be sure.

“What did you think about?”

“Y/N,” he said your name as a warning, looking at you with hard eyes. He was trying desperately not to drown in your games, but he couldn’t keep his head above water for much longer if you continued like this.

“What did you think about?” You repeated firmly.

“Thought about fuckin’ her up against a wall,” Q finally started speaking, “in a bathroom or a closet. I’d have to cover her mouth so no one could hear us.”

You were growing needier by the second. You felt yourself growing wetter and now that he had pretty much confirmed that it was about you, you were going crazy. Everything you had dreamt of was coming to life.

“What else?”

“I thought about pleasurin’ her with my hands under a table with people around us. I’d tell her to keep quiet for me,” Q let the words fall out of his mouth like honey, sticking to you and trapping you in his own fantasies. He mentioned his hands and you were now crossing your legs, trying to get any bit of friction that you could.

“I’ve thought about how pretty she’d look with my cock in her mouth. I’ve imagined her moaning my name,” Brian said slowly, once again moving to adjust himself as his pants grew tighter. He was reliving all the dreams he had, and it was difficult to keep himself under control.

“Brian,” you whispered, moving closer to him. He didn’t hesitate to grab your hips and pull you into his lap, both of you letting out noises at the sudden movement.

“God, do you feel what you do to me?” Brian mumbled with his face buried in your neck and he pulled your hips down, grinding you against his hard on. You moaned at the friction and moved your hips slowly, your fingers carding through his thick hair.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered in Brian’s ear. He hummed and started rocking your hips back and forth faster.

“No, hold on,” He suddenly stopped and you whined stop the loss of friction. He slightly pushed you away, looking at you with a guilty expression written on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sort of annoyed.

“Sal,” he used one of his hands to rub his face while the other rested on your hip, “you’re Sal’s sister. I’m double your fuckin’ age, what am I doing?”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you argued, “I told you I’ve been with someone double my age. You know why I did it? Because of you.”

“What?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I had to fuck someone that reminded me of you just so I could keep myself from making a move on you.”

“I did the same with the girl,” he sighed heavily with a sad look, “I felt so guilty about it.”

“You don’t have to. I get it,” you smoothed your hands across his broad chest.

“You’re still my best friends sister. He’s so fuckin’ protective of you. What if he found out about this?”

“He won’t. If neither of us tell him, how would he find out?” You didn’t mean to sound like you were persuading him, but you were needy and all of his worries weren’t anything serious.

“Brian, I’m not going to force you. If you’re truly worried about Sal, I’ll go home and we never have to talk about this again.”

“No, you’re not goin’ anywhere,” he huffed, the hand that was rubbing his face joined with your hip again, “I’m gonna enjoy you.”

You moaned at his words and the moment that was interrupted before resumed, with you grinding against him as his lips attached to your neck. He left lots of bites and marks, and you weren’t complaining. You didn’t mind being claimed by him.

Brian groaned in your ear as he bucked his hips into yours, his eyes closed and his head leaning against the back of the couch. Your skin was growing hot and you felt Brian’s hands move to the bottom of your shirt before slowly slipping under the fabric to take it off. Once your shirt was off, he immediately started sucking marks onto your breasts. He unhooked your bra and used one hand to play with your nipple while he sucked on the other one.

You moaned and tugged on his hair, feeling bliss wash over you as you continued to create friction against him. He let out an occasional groan as he continued his work on your chest, which only made you hornier.

You quickly slid your hands under his shirt and pulled it off, taking a second to appreciate him. You ran your fingers against his chest, down his stomach, and to the waistband of his pants. He bucked his hips again and you grinned, cupping his cock through his pants.

“God, fuck,” he growled, desperately trying to fuck your hand. You moved it away before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down just enough for his cock to have a bit of relief.

His hands were all over you as you palmed his boxers, relishing in the way he tensed up at your touch. He pulled at your hair, kissed everywhere he could reach, pushed his face against your neck. His beard scratched your skin in a pleasantly painful way, and you loved the feeling.

You pulled back and sloppily connected your lips to his for the first time. Teeth and tongues clashed together as you both fought for dominance, which you eventually won. You knew he let you win, but you didn’t care. You were too focused on the way he was pushing his hand in your pants.

You got out of his lap and took off your sweats quickly before climbing back into his lap, feeling his warmth embrace you again. Now that there were less layers between you, you were able to properly feel the girth of Brian’s cock. You were impressed, it was more than you imagined. You still couldn’t believe that this was happening, and you half expected to be jolted back awake into reality.

“Take these off,” Brian ordered, his pointer finger hooking into the waistband of your underwear. You obliged and stood up again, slowly letting them fall down your legs. He opened his hand and you placed the piece of clothing in his palm. He shoved your underwear into his pocket and you laughed a little.

“Somethin’ funny, sweetheart?”

“You’re stealing my underwear.”

“So I can get off usin’ it later,” he said without hesitation. You felt winded and beyond turned on at his words. You quickly slanted your mouth over his again, taking a second to slow it down and fully appreciate the way his soft lips worked over yours. He seemed fine with going slow as he matched your tempo, allowing you to direct him.

After a few minutes of making out, he slowly put a hand on your back and gently pulled your hair, forcing your head back so he could kiss your neck again. He took his time littering the skin that he missed with plenty of hickies, sucking a dark spot before soothing it over with his tongue.

His hands never stopped moving. They travelled up and down your back, they rubbed your thighs and occasionally brushed against you, they buried themselves in your hair and tugged. It drove you wild.

You did the same to him, enjoying the feeling of his bare chest against your soft hands. His chest hair wasn’t super scratchy so the feeling was that much more nice. You also touched along his happy trail, using just your pointer finger to trace the outline of his cock, making him groan. He wasn’t shy about being vocal, and you thanked god for that. Nothing was more annoying than being with a man who was scared to make noise.

Brian eventually started pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring free. You looked down at it, feeling yourself grow wetter in anticipation. When you moved your eyes back up, you saw that Brian was already staring at you with a small smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. You gave him a peck.

“I’m sure. Are you?”

“I am,” he affirmed, kissing your chest again. You sighed and moved your hips, making him buck his.

Though you could tell he was aching to fuck you, he still took it slow as he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit. You moaned at the feeling, watching as the fingers you loved so much brought you a great amount of pleasure.

After a few more seconds you noticed Brian’s cock twitching and you laughed a little. His brown eyes met yours and he smiled as well.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” He told you, gingerly guiding your hips up before letting you sink down on his length. You both let out noises at the contact and you felt more full than you had in forever. You could tell he was enjoying it, his eyes shut and his breathing heavy as he willed himself not to pound into you the way he wanted to.

After giving yourself a few moments to adjust, you started rocking your hips back and forth. Brian groaned and gripped onto your hips, his fingertips digging into your skin. There would be marks there tomorrow, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way Brian filled you so perfectly as you lifted yourself up and down on him.

You began to pick up the pace, riding him faster and faster until your legs burned. He started to meet each of your bounces by thrusting up into you, hitting you deeper than before.

Both of your hands gripped the back of the couch for more support as you continued riding him, feeling an orgasm build in your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” Brian growled, pulling you in for a territorial kiss. You didn’t mind the way he bit your lower lip slightly, or the way he pulled it a little when he broke the kiss. You loved how he was falling apart under you. You loved that you could make him feel this way.

“Stop,” he groaned, “I’m not done yet.”

He stilled your movements and gently pulled himself out of you. Brian lifted you and lowered you down with your back against the couch as he situated himself between your legs.

Q wasted no time in getting himself in you again, only giving you a second or two to adjust to his size before starting a relentless pace. He was finally fucking you the way you both wanted, with the sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty house.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart,” he groaned lowly in your ear, making you tighten your core. That made him falter in his pace a bit but he made up for it, quickly returning back to his rhythm with his hand on your clit again.

You met him with every thrust, feeling the rubber band in your stomach about to snap.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl for me.”

That’s all it took for you to warn Brian and get pushed over the edge, your vision turning white and spotty as your orgasm hit you like a train. Brian kept thrusting through your orgasm and once you came back to, you were a bit sensitive.

You didn’t say a word as he used you like his own toy, pulling your legs up so they rested on his shoulders as he angled himself to reach deeper. You moaned his name over and over, and he continued to fuck you senseless.

Eventually his thrusts became erratic and you knew he was close.

“Where do you -fuck- want me to cum?” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes trained on the way his cock filled you up so perfectly. Your back was arching as you approached your second orgasm, gasping when he used his large hands to play with your nipples again.

“I’m on the pill.”

Brian grinned at your words and messily kissed you. When he pulled back you took his look in. His long hair was starting to stick to him because of the sweat, his muscles tensing every time he pounded into you, his face and neck had a light pink blush on it. But once you saw his hands, it was over. The blood rush made his veins more prominent as they travelled up his forearm, making more definition to the muscle that was already there.

You thought about what those hands have made you feel and you were done. Your second orgasm ripped through you and you let out a long whine, feeling bad that you didn’t give Brian a warning but too wrapped up in the euphoric feeling to care.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned loudly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Please, Brian,” you whimpered, and he looked at you with soft eyes. His eyes were always one of your weaknesses, and you both took a second to study each other.

He leaned in and joined your lips together, and with a few more pumps, you could feel him spilling inside of you with a deep groan. When he pulled away from the kiss he was panting the same way you were.

“This is gonna hurt a bit,” he warned you as he pulled out, both of you wincing at the cold air on your now sensitive parts. You could feel his cum spilling out of you and he used his fingers to dip in some of it before bringing it to your mouth.

You happily accepted his fingers and sucked them clean, moaning at the taste. He stared at you, the fire in his eyes sparking again.

“I’m gonna clean you up,” he mumbled, moving away from you and pulling on his boxers before heading out of the room. He returned a few moments later with a towel, which he used to wipe you clean. You were too tired to protest as he brought you to the bathroom and set you down on the toilet before exiting and closing the door behind him.

You peed and washed your hands before sluggishly dragging your feet to his bedroom. You were spent and you didn’t even care that you were fully naked. All you wanted to do was climb into his sheets and sleep.

“Hold on, darlin’,” he held onto your waist to stop you from getting into his bed. He slowly pulled one of his large shirts over your head and helped you step into a pair of his boxers. You hummed a thank you and he pulled back the covers for you as you slipped in.

Once you were cuddled up, you inhaled the scent around you. Everything smelled like him, and you felt like you were in heaven. Sure you had slept in his bed before, but you had always been alone and obviously it had never been after sex.

Brian eventually crawled under the sheets next to you, letting out a huff as he did so. You didn’t hesitate to cling to him, throwing one leg and one arm around him. He slipped one arm under your head and used the other hand to trace circles onto your skin.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low and raspy.

“Yeah, you?”

“Best sex I’ve ever had,” he answered with a chuckle. You giggled as well and placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You were so infatuated with him, and after having sex with him, you felt the need for him grow stronger.

“What’re you thinkin’?” Brian mumbled, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Don’t tell Sal.”

Warnings: none!

Words: 5.2k

A/N: this was a tough one to write, but i had a lot of fun. there will be another chapter soon, im still not sure if that will be the final one or if there will be more. like i promised, there will be smut soon. enjoy!

—————

The dress that hugged your curves was growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute, the fabric rubbing against your skin in a way you weren’t quite used to. You had accompanied one of your friends, who was some sort of producer, to a big dinner. Normally you would’ve said no, but he had done you many favours and you had to return a few.

It was a peaceful night. The stars were shining in the sky, there was a slight breeze, and the scent of fancy food surrounded you. It was a lot busier than you expected, but you managed to get a little more comfortable and even strike up a few conversations with different people.

“Hey, you okay so far?” Brent, your producer friend, approached you. He had a smile on his face and you could tell he was tipsy.

“Yeah, I’m having fun actually,” you answered, shooting him a grin. He put his drink down on the nearest table and walked closer to you.

“Thank you for coming. I know this isn’t really your scene,” he started, his words stumbling over each other, “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Brent. It’s really no problem.”

“I thought it might be nice for you to meet some new people,” he told you, “especially after that whole thing with the bar-stranger-guy.”

You knew who he was referring to, of course. The man you met at the bar had lived in your mind for the past three months for some inexplicable reason. It had also been three months since you went to that particular bar out of fear that you’d run into him.

It sucked because that used to be your favourite bar, but you couldn’t take the risk. Sure, you wanted to talk to him, but you were afraid that something would happen and you’d get hurt. You didn’t even know his name, you figured it would be easy to simply forget about him. Getting him out of your mind had been a daily struggle but you forced yourself to act like it didn’t bother you.

“I’m over it, you know that,” you scoffed playfully, nudging Brent’s shoulder with your own. He laughed a little, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I don’t believe you, Y/N. You wouldn’t shut up about him for months. No way you’re over him all of a sudden.”

“I really am over it.” A lie. But in Brent’s half drunken state, you didn’t think he’d really care.

“Whatever you say,” he mumbled, grabbing his drink and downing it, “there’s so many famous people.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of crazy,” you agreed with a hum. With this being a huge dinner with producers and actors from different TV shows, there were many people that you used to dream of meeting. Luckily you had a chance to talk (and get pictures) with most of them, fulfilling your inner fan.

“I’m gonna talk to that girl,” Brent told you, his eyes trained on a rather pretty woman. You nodded with a laugh and he whisked away into the crowd, leaving you on your own again. You decided to grab a drink, making your way to the bar and ordering a whiskey on ice.

“Jack and Coke, please,” the voice stopped you in your tracks. You all but whipped your head around, and your jaw dropped at the sight.

It was the guy from the bar.

You recalled how he told you that he had a TV show with his friends, but you didn’t even think about the possibility of him being here. Had you known there was a chance, you wouldn’t have bothered coming.

You didn’t know what to do. Three months you spent avoiding the man and suddenly he was right in front of you? Fuck, what were you supposed to do? You couldn’t talk to him. But if he saw you, it’d be even more awkward than having a conversation.

Before speeding off you took a second to observe him, noticing all the little things about him that hadn’t really changed over the months. His hair was slightly longer with more grey in it but his beard remained the same. He still wore that ring on his finger, which he tapped against the table as he waited for his drink.

And of course, his eyes were darting everywhere, looking for a threat that wasn’t there.

Luckily he hadn’t looked over in your direction yet, so you took that opportunity to briskly walk as far away as you could from the bar.

Every instinct in your body was telling you to approach him, to talk to him and see if things would be the same as they were, but you couldn’t. You weren’t going to do that. You knew that if you and him became friends, you would grow attached and want something more.

You already found him very attractive, you wouldn’t be able to have a platonic relationship with him. On top of that; knowing the fact that he was left a week before his wedding which was only a few months ago, you simply couldn’t make a move on him. He most likely forgot about you, anyway.

If he was important enough to be at some fancy function like this, he probably met dozens of people a week. You were simply someone he had a conversation with in a shitty bar once.

That thought upset you, even though you tried not to let it. You hoped that you meant something more than that to him. In a twisted, selfish way, you hoped that he couldn’t get you out of his mind the way you couldn’t get him out of yours.

You were now a good 20 feet away from the bar, and you blended in well with the other guests so you weren’t too concerned about him seeing you. With that, your eyes wandered over to his broad back which was facing you. He made gestures with his hands as he spoke to another man next to him, who was thin and sort of resembled a ferret.

When you finally peeled your eyes away from the bar, you searched through the crowd for Brent. He had the keys to his car and you wanted to go home as soon as possible.

The second your eyes fell on Brent, you groaned quietly in frustration. He was only a couple feet away from the bar. You tried calling his name but to no avail. Brent was busy ordering another drink, with his back turned to you just like the bar-stranger-guy.

As quietly and swiftly as you could, you weaved through the people and made your way to the bar. The strong smell of different colognes, perfumes, and sweat filled your nose and almost made you gag.

By the time you were close to the bar, you thanked god when Brent saw you.

“Y/N! Come here!” You flinched as his loud voice boomed, the boisterous noise ringing in your ears.

The man behind him did a double take.

Fuck, he saw you. You locked eyes with him for a moment before tearing your gaze away.

You tried your best to avoid eye contact as you sped towards Brent, grabbing his wrist before pulling him away without another look back. If you looked and the stranger was already looking at you, you knew you’d fold. You knew you’d let go of Brent and make your way to the man.

“Why are you pulling me,” Brent slurred slightly, resisting your death grip.

“Shut up and come with me,” you gritted out, finally making your way out of the maze of people and praying that the man would just forget this ever happened.

“Give me the keys,” you told Brent, holding a hand out like a mother scolding her child. In that same fashion, Brent shook his head.

“No, I wanna stay,” he argued.

“Brent, so help me god if you don’t give me those fucking keys,” you started to get impatient and nervous. The longer you took to get out, the bigger chance there was of bumping into him or him seeing you again. You just needed to go home and cool down.

“Their alcohol is so good, though,” your friend whined. You rubbed your temples and sighed heavily.

“I will buy you whatever drink you want if you just give me the keys.”

“You said you were having fun,” he scrunched up his brows, looking upset. You moved so you were on the other side of him, your back facing the entrance of the building you just left.

“I was, but I saw someone I didn’t expect or want to see and now I’d like to go home,” you tried explaining, angry beyond belief. Not only were you frustrated with Brent’s childish manner, but you were frustrated with the situation entirely. Seeing the stranger brought up all the regret you felt for the past three months when you left the bar without asking for a number. You were frustrated with yourself back then, and you were even more upset now. You were relying on the expectation that you’d never see him again so tonight threw you off entirely.

Brent’s eyes fell behind you and he had a quizzical look on his face for a second before you heard a gruff voice.

“That’s not about me, right?”

You flinched and your heart dropped to your stomach. It was beating like fucking crazy, and all you could hear was the pounding noise it made as it vibrated through your body. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck.

That’s the only word that repeated itself in your head as you slowly turned around, having to look up slightly to stare at the man in his eyes.

And there he was.

His deep brown eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of what you were feeling or thinking. You did the same for his, and a weak smile plastered itself on his face.

“Oh my god! I know you!” Brent’s obnoxiously drunk voice sliced through the few moments of silence, and the stranger looked over at him with a wider, more fake smile.

“You’re that guy on the show,” Brent rambled, “where they do the pranks!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the handsome man in front of you huffed, and you could tell he desperately wanted to break eye contact with Brent so he could go back to looking at you. You were glad he was distracted, though, because it gave you a second to recuperate and make sure your knees didn’t turn to jelly.

“Shit, what’s your name again?”

You listened a little closer when Brent asked that. You were finally going to find out what his name was.

“Brian.”

His name was nice, and it suited him. It was simple but still had character to it, just like him. Of course, he wasn’t very simple (in fact you thought he was more complicated than anyone you’ve ever met) but it was a nice thought.

Definitely moan-able.

You slapped yourself mentally when that was one of the first things that came to mind.

“Right, Brian Quinn! Q!” Brent said excitedly, moving in between the two of you. Brian shot you a quick glance before entertaining Brent’s conversation and taking a few pictures with him.

You were more than grateful that Brent put space between you and Brian, it felt like it was suffocating you. While Brent was distracted, you slipped your hand into his pocket and grabbed his car keys.

After doing that, you slowly backed up, depending on Brent to keep Brian distracted for a little longer while you searched for Brent’s car.

You were finally far enough to turn your back to the two men and you didn’t hesitate to walk away quickly, spotting Brent’s car and making your way to it. You weren’t going to drive away without Brent, of course, but you could wait in there until he was done speaking with Brian.

Thoughts rattled inside your brain almost to the point where it hurt, with ‘what ifs’ throwing themselves at you one by one.

What if you never saw him again? Would that be a good thing? The feelings you tried to keep at bay (rather unsuccessfully) had flooded through the dam you built up, and what if they wouldn’t subside after having seen him tonight?

What if it took longer than three months to get him out of your mind again?

What if it was only you that was freaking out about this? What if he didn’t care about you and forgot you? Would that be a good thing?

You took multiple deep breaths, focusing on calming your racing heart. You felt a little lightheaded, and you knew deep down that it wasn’t that serious, but it felt like you were dying.

He was simply a man you felt a connection with one night. Why did you feel so overwhelmed?

After a few more minutes, you saw Brent approaching the car on the passenger side. You felt a flash of relief but that was immediately engulfed by another bout of nervousness when you saw Brian walking next to him.

Brent opened the passenger side door and you wanted nothing more than to kill yourself at that very moment.

“Take the front seat, I’ll sit in the back,” Brent said politely even in his drunken state, gesturing to Brian.

“No, no. It’s your car, buddy,” he answered, his eyes darting to yours. You looked straight ahead while you held your breath.

“It’s really alright, I don’t mind the backseat.”

“You’re already offerin’ me a ride. I can’t-“

“For fuck sake, just get in the car,” you grumbled loudly. Both of their eyes shot to you and Brent laughed a little, opening the backseat and sliding into it. He immediately sprawled out on it, and within seconds he had his eyes closed as his breathing grew slower.

Brian stepped into the passenger side before closing the door and clearing his throat. Your eyes scanned over him for a second, noticing how he anxiously fidgeting with his ring while his foot tapped the floor like it did in the bar.

You swallowed thickly and started the car before pulling out of the parking spot and driving to the main road.

“Uh, where do you live?” You asked, cringing at the awkward tension between you two. Brian cleared his throat again and told you his address, which you typed into your phone after pulling over.

“How have you been?” Brian’s gravelly voice broke through the painful silence that had coated the car like a thick, miserable jacket. You didn’t want to talk to him, just so you wouldn’t have any conversation to pick apart in your head later at night, but you knew the uncomfortable stillness in the right space would eventually break one of you. He just happened to break first.

“Fine. You?” You kept your answers short, not giving him too much to work with. You felt bad about it, because honestly all you wanted to do was talk through the late hours of the night with him again, but you couldn’t. It would be wrong and unfair to both of you.

“Good. Busy,” he chuckled, and you melted at the sound, “I’ve been runnin’ around with the guys a lot.”

“Oh, I see,” you mumbled, forcefully stopping the conversation. You couldn’t bear to keep talking to him. It was so fucking horrible, and you knew it was your fault because he wasn’t the one making it weird, but you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be friends with him.

“So, what brought you to that dinner?”

“The idiot in the backseat,” you replied, making him laugh. You noticed that his laugh wasn’t very hearty, and his eyes were constantly peeking over at you and trying to read your body language.

“Listen,” Brian started, and you already knew what he was going to say, “about when we met.”

“Brian, you don’t have to,” you used his first name, which made him give you another double take. It felt weird to finally have a name to call him.

“I just wanted to apologize. It didn’t go the way I wanted it to.”

“It didn’t?” You asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Did you want it to go the way it did?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting anything else,” your answers were truthful. You didn’t feel like lying to him, the same way you didn’t feel like lying before. Despite the weirdness that had settled like dust around you two, you found yourself falling back into comfortable conversation with him. Sure, the topic you were on wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

“Y/N,” he used your name, judging whether you were okay with it or not. Once he noticed that you didn’t care, he continued.

“I shouldn’t have just left like that. I don’t know if this’ll make you uncomfortable, but I really felt somethin’ with you.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked from your lungs. Never in your life did you expect to hear that from him. Though to be fair, you didn’t even expect to ever see him again, so your reaction was justifiable.

“I felt something with you, too.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, taking your eyes off the road and looking over at him for a second. You took in his expression; it had disbelief written all over it. You guessed that he had expected to get rejected by you, so your answer surprised him just as much as his surprised you.

“I went to that bar almost everyday,” he admitted, “thought I’d see you there.”

“I avoided that bar for that same reason.”

He laughed at that, and this time it was genuine. You could hear it in the way his laughing got a little bit high pitched, and his hand went to grab the left side of his chest. His laugh made you laugh a little.

“If it’s not too late, can I still get your number?” He asked after you two settled down. You contemplated it. If you gave him your number, you knew you’d be done for.

Giving him your number forced you to be consistent. Consistently texting back, calling, whatever he wanted. You knew you’d fall into him if you had the opportunity to talk every day, and you also knew that that was dangerous.

You didn’t want to get hurt again, and you could tell that the man next to you had hurt many hearts in the past. But he’s also had his heart hurt, did that make him more trustworthy?

“No,” you finally said, shocking both you and him. The answer slipped out before you could properly think about it, but now it was out there. You turned him down. The man that had run rampant in your mind for the past three months was sitting next to you with a stunned look on his face because you just rejected him.

The weight of that didn’t even hit you until you pulled in front of his house and pressed on the brakes, the slight jolt bringing you out of your foggy state of mind.

“I’m sorry if, uh, if I made you uncomfortable with that,” he quickly apologized, turning in his seat to face you. You put the car in park and mirrored him with your seatbelt off. Before opening your mouth you checked in on Brent, who was now snoring loudly with his mouth wide open.

“It’s not that, Brian,” you tried to explain without sounding like an asshole, “I can just tell you’ve had your fair share of girls, and I can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be a one night stand.”

“You think I’m askin’ for your number so I can fuck you?” He raised his voice a little, his eyes staring deep into yours.

You didn’t know what to tell him. If you were honest and said yes, would he think you were a shallow person? If you said no, would he be able to tell that you wanted him?

“Yes, honestly,” you finally said. He scoffed, his body giving away how upset he was. His fists were starting to clench at his sides, and he was letting out quick breaths.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. I know you’re good with girls, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so smooth and charming with me when we met,” you said. Brian looked at you incredulously.

“That doesn’t mean I want sex.”

“If you wanted a friendship, why didn’t you ask for my number?” You looked at him pointedly, and you could see him racking his brain for an answer that you’d be satisfied with.

“I don’t know. I should have,” he sighed in defeat, “I regretted not asking you. I regretted everythin’.”

“Everything?”

“Startin’ up that conversation with you. Walkin’ you to your car. Everything.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You were half expecting him to not care about you, but for him to actually say it and speak it into existence was a huge fucking blow. You looked away from Brian, your gaze falling onto your friend who was still snoring gently in the backseat.

“I have to drive him home.”

“Let me explain,” Brian stopped you, his hand reaching out to grab yours for a second before he debated against it and pulled it back, “I only regretted it because if I hadn’t done all that shit, you wouldn’t be the only thing on my mind.”

That made you mad. He was tossing around your feelings, giving you answers based on your reactions. He was good at it, too. Had you been a little stupider, you would’ve believed him.

“Please get out, Brian.” A tear fell from your eye, and you could see him peering at you, concerned.

You were looking everywhere but at him, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, it would be over for you.

“Look at me, please,” he begged, even going as far as to brush his thumb against your cheek to wipe away the tear.

“Brian.”

“I’m not leavin’ you again. I can’t,” he huffed, his voice getting a little shaky. You finally looked at him (a mistake), and you couldn’t hold back the tears that dropped heavily from your eyes. They coated your cheeks and some trailed to your mouth, leaving a salty aftertaste on your tongue.

In his eyes you could see the hurt he went through. He was no longer masked the way he always was. He wasn’t scanning his surroundings anymore because with you, he felt safe. Safe enough to let his guard down. Safe enough to fully let someone in for the first time in years.

You felt the same, of course. You felt like you could trust him, which was difficult for you usually. He made you feel secure. You were kicking yourself for feeling this for someone you had met once three months ago, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him. Needed him.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he mumbled, tears now pricking at the corners of his deep, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, too,” you sniffled, and a soft smile fell on his handsome face.

“Please stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t. Brent,” you moved your head to look at your friend. Brian did the same and gave you a hum in understanding.

“Then get home and send me your address. I can’t be without you tonight,” Brian said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. Not like you were going to argue, anyway. You needed that just as bad as he did.

So you did exactly what he asked. You drove Brent home and got him into his bed before jotting down a quick note telling him that you’d drop off his car when he woke up. Then, you drove yourself home and opened your phone up, clicking Brian’s number that you got before you left his place. You sent him your address and waited.

You weren’t sure what to do while he made his way to your house. Everything around you was clean, you were cleaned up, there was nothing to fix. All you could do was wait anxiously and sigh as bad thoughts flooded your brain.

The three sharp knocks on your door jolted you back to reality and you quickly moved to the door, making sure to check the peephole to confirm that it was, in fact, Brian on the other side.

You opened the door and tilted your head to look at him. He had changed into grey sweatpants with a plain black shirt on top, the ring on his finger ever present. Did he ever take it off?

Without a word you moved to the side to give Brian space. He walked in carefully, his eyes taking in the room in front of him. He barely made any noise as he toed off his shoes and followed you while you gave him a quick tour.

Once you made it to your bedroom, you were more than nervous. What were the two of you going to do? You weren’t ready to have sex with him, and though he told you he wasn’t in it for sex, how could you be sure? A man like him was usually after one thing no matter what he said.

“Can I?” Brian finally said, looking at your bed. You nodded and he moved towards it cautiously, as if he was waiting for you to explode on him. He slowly got on top of the bed and you did the same on the opposite side. You had a twin bed and with Brian being a bigger guy, your shoulders were brushing together. You couldn’t help but notice the sparks you felt every time they bumped.

“You have a nice home,” Brian commented. You mumbled a shy thank you.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things weird,” you blurted out, “I’m just worried because I don’t want you to be here if you’re going to use me.”

You knew it was unfair to say that after he assured you he wasn’t going to try anything on you, but the words spilled out against your wishes. You waited for Brian to blow up, to get angry and ask you why you wouldn’t believe him just like how your ex would have, but you couldn’t see anything but sympathy when you looked into Brian’s eyes.

“I’m not gonna use you, Y/N. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Why do you want to stay with me then?”

“Because we spent too many months apart. I should have been with you the entire time,” he leaned his head against the headboard but tilted it so he could make eye contact with you, “I get butterflies around you. I feel things I haven’t felt for years. Hell, I didn’t even feel like this when I was about to marry my ex.”

You were at a loss for words. You felt the exact same, but the commitment part was terrifying to you.

“I can’t,” you trailed off, not being able to find the right words.

“Can’t what?”

“You’re just so…” you mumbled, frustrated, “you. I want you, but I can’t have you.”

You both sat in silence for a little bit, letting the words sink in and take their full effect.

”Why can’t you have me?”

“Because we can’t be anything more than friends. And I don’t even think I can be just friends with you,” you wanted to cry because of how complicated this was.

“You don’t think we can be just friends?”

“No.”

He didn’t ask why, but you could tell he wanted to.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Brian. I want to be the person you think of when something good happens. I want to hold you when you’re sad and celebrate those stupid little milestones in life with you,” you took in a deep, shaky breath, “I can never be your friend because I want so much more than that.”

And there it was. You couldn’t help but cry, the tears falling freely down your face. You were too ashamed to look Brian in his eyes, so you kept your gaze trained on your hands that were fidgeting in your lap.

After a few moments, Brian’s large hand covered both of yours. You still didn’t look at him, but you squeezed his fingers.

“I don’t want to be just friends with you, Y/N. I want the exact same thing you do.”

You paused at that, tears falling harder. Brian used the hand that wasn’t holding yours to wipe away your tears and pull your face so he could look at you. You could see that he also shed a few tears, with his eyes and nose turning slightly red.

“I wanted to be with you tonight because I can’t risk lettin’ you go again. I need you.”

“I need you, too.”

“You have me. For as long as you want, I’m yours,” he mumbled, brushing the hair away from your face. You cried a little harder at that and he pulled you in for a hug.

His embrace was something you never wanted to escape. The way he cradled your head with one hand and rubbed up and down your back with the other provided a level of comfort you had never received before. You felt so fucking safe, so comfortable in his arms.

You climbed into his lap slowly, straddling him while you buried your face in his neck. He only held you close, not saying anything and giving you time to adjust to the new dynamic that had been created between you two.

“It’s so difficult,” you said, pulling away from him and holding his face in your hands. His beard scratched against your palms and you used your thumb to brush against his lips. He placed a soft kiss on your thumb and you smiled gently.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, “tell me you don’t want to try this and I’ll leave right now. But god, Y/N, if there’s even a tiny part of you that thinks we’ll work, say it.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for your words. The next words out of your mouth would either send him home and you’d never talk again, or they’d plunge you deep into the abyss of love and leave you to fight through it together. If you chose the latter, it would be difficult. You knew that. Being with someone was a commitment that you had only been through a handful of times, and you had never felt the way you did now.

You were scared. Scared because if you told Brian what you truly wanted, your heart would be in his hands. It would be his to keep or destroy. He had the potential to make you feel full, or ruin you completely. That’s what made you hesitate. You could openly admit to yourself that you love the man in front of you, but you couldn’t get the words out. If you said them, they’d be there forever. You’d be at Brian’s disposal.

“I want to try,” you finally said, and you swore you had never seen someone’s eyes light up the way Brian’s did when your words reached him. He was careful not to kiss you, but he pulled you in for another close embrace.

And as his strong arms held you close, you knew you made the right decision. Whatever happened in the future, you wanted it to be with him.

(1/?)

Warnings: none!

Words: 2.5k

Summary: After dumping your boyfriend, you find yourself at a bar. The man you meet there changes everything, but you failed to even get his name.

A/N: hi everyone! this will be a few part series, im not sure exactly how much im going to write but there will definitely be another part at the very least (there will also be smut eventually). enjoy!

—————

“Go fuck yourself.”

That was the last thing you had said to your on-again off-again boyfriend, who was now officially your ex after you realized how much shit he had put you through. You thought it was love as the two of you started dating at a young age, with frequent gaps in conversations that you’d make up for with sex.

Day after day you defended him against your friends who adamantly told you to leave him. You told them, ‘he’s really not that bad,’ ‘he fucked up a few times, so what? Everyone has.’ They rolled their eyes at you, telling you that you deserved so much better, but you wanted him.

Eventually, after a long day of drinking and contemplating, you made the decision to cut him off. Of course this didn’t come easily, as he put up a fight to get you to stay.

“Please, Y/N, don’t be stupid. We need each other. I’m nothing without you.”

Even just thinking about his words left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt pity for him deep down, but he put you through hell and back. He didn’t deserve your pity. But you did love him at one point, so it wasn’t fair to turn your back on him completely, right?

“You alright?” A gruff voice sliced through your thoughts. You looked up from your drink, remembering that you were in a bar. The ice that had been in your whiskey had melted away to your disappointment.

“I’m good,” you lied through your teeth, giving the man a forced smile. He looked at you quizzically but said nothing else, simply giving you a nod before turning back to his own drink.

You studied him for a minute. He had big hands, with a ring on his right middle finger. His beard and hair matched, both being long with grey streaks in them, along with a hat sitting on top of his thick locks. His posture held a lot of tension. Anyone could see how on edge he was, it was evident in the way he hunched his back slightly and kept his eyes scanning over the room constantly, as if there was a threat hidden somewhere.

His dark brown eyes once again flickered over to yours and you quickly averted your gaze, a blush creeping up on your neck. You didn’t mean to get caught staring, you just got lost in your thoughts easily.

Something about him was incredibly compelling, but you didn’t know what it was. Was it the way he kept rubbing his fingertips together? Or the way he sat so stiffly while his eyes danced across the room over and over? Maybe it was his leg that wouldn’t stop tapping the floor? You didn’t know. It was sort of frustrating, and with you being a rather shy person, you were afraid to talk to him again.

He cleared his throat and you snapped back into reality, immediately wanting to hide under the table when you realized that he caught you staring again. Fuck, you were an idiot.

“Uh, sorry about that,” you mumbled, offering him a weak smile. He shot one back, but you could tell it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was holding his smile back, and you were curious as to what it was.

“No worries,” his voice was gravelly and deep, with a pretty thick New York accent which told you that he probably lived around the area.

“What’re you drinking?” You asked, desperately trying to make small talk with the man a few seats away from you. He seemed a lot more confident than you, which was intimidating but it was also a new thing that drew you to him.

“Jack and Coke. You?”

“It used to be whiskey on the rocks,” you laughed a little, showing him your glass with no ice in it. He gave you another smile, and you noticed again that it was strained. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Come closer, I can barely hear you over this god awful music,” he said to your surprise. You didn’t hesitate to slide into the seat directly on his left. His scent now filled your nose, and it was intoxicating. You could smell alcohol of course, but there was also hints of cannabis, and also something that smelled like straight campfire smoke. All of those mixed together with the smell of his skin, and you felt drunk despite only having one drink the entire night (which you hadn’t even finished, you noted).

“Not a fan of The Beatles?”

“I am, just not this particular song,” he tilted his head to look at you, “it’s overrated.”

Now that you could see his full face properly, you could tell he was significantly older than you. His breath, like his clothing, smelled like alcohol. You didn’t mind, though. He was quite attractive. His brown eyes stared deeply into yours, trying to figure you out the same way you were trying to figure him out. It seemed like some sort of unspoken game.

“I think you’re wrong,” you finally said, leaning away from him. He scoffed with a charming smile. One that was still not genuine.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. None of their songs are overrated.”

“What about ‘Hey Jude’?”

“Okay, maybe one of their songs are overrated,” you giggled, which made him chuckle too. The noise rumbled from his chest, and you couldn’t do anything but stare as his smile softened.

“So, can I ask what brought you here this late at night?” The man questioned, his voice gentle and calm even if his body language screamed otherwise. You noticed that his eyes were still not at rest, continuously checking out the area once or twice before landing on yours again.

“An ex. You?”

“An ex,” he repeated, a sad smile appearing on his face. You mirrored it and took a sip of your drink, sighing when you swallowed it.

“What happened?” He spoke up again.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Figured if it bothered you enough to drink about it, you might want to talk about it.”

“To a stranger?” You countered, watching as he lifted his eyebrow playfully.

“Might be easier to talk to someone you don’t know. Kind of like a priest at confession.”

“Are you religious?”

“God, no. Just givin’ you an analogy.”

You hummed for a minute, debating whether or not you wanted to tell him. He was right, it would be easy to spill everything and never talk to him again, but you didn’t want that. You felt like he had more to say than what time allowed you during one measly night. He had years worth of stories to tell, you could see it in his face. And he could see it in yours, you were sure.

“I dumped my boyfriend,” you started, gauging his reaction. When you saw no signs of judgement or anything else for that matter, you continued.

“We’ve been on and off since,” you counted back in your head, “fuck, probably since middle school.”

You gave him a second of time to see if he wanted to say anything, but he didn’t. His attention was all on you though, his eyes had stopped scoping out the room and they instead were on your eyes (and occasionally your lips - which hadn’t gone unnoticed by you).

“We were just bad for each other. We tried over and over for years but every time it ended the same way; me telling him that it’d never happen again and him agreeing just for us to be in bed together the next week.

I finally broke it off with him a few hours ago and hopefully it stays that way. He told me that he’s nothing without me, and that kind of has me conflicted. I know I shouldn’t go back but I really felt like we had potential but didn’t know what to do with it, you know?”

The man looked deep in thought, giving you nothing but a nod to show he heard you. The pair of you didn’t speak for a minute or two, with him simply soaking in the words you said.

“What made you two bad for each other?” He said after a few more moments of silence.

“He was just a man-child. It was difficult because he expected me to take care of him and myself, and he just didn’t want to see me grow as a person. He wanted me to stay the same as I had been.”

“And you’re not the type of person that’s satisfied with somethin’ like that,” he finished for you. You nodded and so did he, once again drifting into his own thoughts.

“I’m gonna be honest, though,” you mumbled, “I can’t act like I didn’t do anything wrong.”

You didn’t know why you were telling this man everything. You just felt like you could trust him. Even if you couldn’t, after this night the chances were that you’d never see him again. That thought bummed you out a little.

“There were times where he’d yell at me for something stupid like why I didn’t have dinner ready. I’d yell back and say a lot of… hurtful things.”

“It’s not your job to make a grown man dinner,” he pointed out.

“I know, but I’m really not a confrontational person. Just something about him brings out the worst in me.”

The man let out a short chuckle before taking a sip of his drink and exhaling heavily through his nose. His elbows rested on the counter and he held up his head with his hands, his eyes focused on you for a split second before they traced the room for the hundredth time.

“What happened with your ex?” You asked curiously. He had listened to you, and now it was his turn to speak.

“Left me a week before the weddin’,” he scoffed, shaking his head, “ran off with some cop.”

Your gaze softened when you heard the sadness in his voice, feeling a rush of sympathy for the broken man in front of you.

“My ego took a huge blow,” he admitted with a low laugh.

“I’m so sorry. That’s just such a horrible thing to do.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad she left before we got married. Nothin’ scares me more than a loveless marriage.”

“Yeah, those are tough.”

“Been in one?”

“Oh no, not me. My parents,” you felt bad that the conversation was turning back to be about you again, so you asked him another question about his ex.

“Did you know the cop?”

“He was a buddy. I worked in the FDNY for a while and I met him through a couple friends I had there,” he explained, his fingertips rubbing together again, “I always thought he was a good guy. Fuckin’ sucked finding out about the affair.”

All you could do was apologize again. He didn’t look very upset, but you could tell that he was. His hand had started to grip the glass a little tighter, his chest rising and falling a little faster as he tried to control his breathing. He was experienced in masking his emotions, if you were a bit further away you wouldn’t have been able to tell he was upset. Only once you got close and could truly observe the tight lipped smile he wore, the way his leg tapped faster and faster as he talked, his incessant fidgeting with his ring, would you be able to read his inner turmoil.

“What do you do for a living?” He asked out of nowhere, quickly changing the subject to avoid any more awkwardness. You chose to allow him to dictate where the conversation went, so you followed his lead.

“Uh, I’m a journalist,” you answered his question truthfully, “I travel around a lot.”

“And how do you like that?”

“It’s good. Very demanding but overall rewarding,” you told him with a slight smile, “what about you?”

“Comedian, among other things,” he mumbled, “also very demanding but not quite in the same sense as your job.”

“Do you like your job?”

“It’s hard at times, for sure. But gettin’ people to smile and forget how hard they have it is gratifying no matter how difficult.”

“Difficult?”

“Knowin’ that no matter what goes on in our lives, something as simple as a laugh can make it better,” he explained, “it’s a lot of pressure. You wanna distract people from their problems but it’s hard when you’ve got your own.”

You nodded in genuine interest, soaking up every smooth word that left his mouth and clinging to it like your life depended on it. The way his voice sounded when he talked about something he was passionate about was incredibly attractive.

The conversation between you two flowed easily, as if you were lifelong friends. You got to know that he had a show with three of his best buddies, and you told him about some of your travels.

You were interrupted in the middle of your conversation by the bartender, who announced that it was closing time. Sadly you knew your time with him was coming to an end. You didn’t even know his name, but you felt attached to him. Closer to him than most people in your life. You could tell he felt the same, with the way his shoulders slowly loosened up around you as time passed by.

“This is me,” you said, looking over at him when you reached your car. He scanned it quickly and gave you a smile, one that seemed more full of life than it did just a few hours ago.

“Thank you for listenin’. I needed it,” he spoke gruffly, his hands fidgeting at his sides before he put them in his pockets.

You wanted to kiss him. But you knew that he wouldn’t be that type of person, and it would be horrible for you to make a move after not only just meeting the man, but also knowing he just recently split with his fiancé. You wouldn’t do that to him.

“Thank you for tonight.”

He gave you a nod and turned around, taking a few steps away from you before looking back quickly. You wanted to call for him, get his name, his number, anything at all. But something stopped you from doing that. You didn’t know if it was nerves, or maybe the universe gave him to you for just one night.

When his figure retreated into the dimly lit streets, you sighed. You got into your car and started it up, feeling a little bit empty after he had left. You hadn’t had that deep of a connection with someone like that in years. Did he not feel the same? He could’ve tried to get your number, too.

‘Whatever. It’s okay,’ you thought to yourself, even though you knew it was everything but okay.

Warnings: smut!

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Brian looked especially good while filming that day. You couldn’t wait to get home.

A/N: another rushed fic! i’ll be back to edit this later on. enjoy!

—————

“If you refuse to do what the other guys say, you lose!” Sal’s voice sounded out. The guys were in the park that day, going around and being their typical stupid selves.

You were only there because your boyfriend, Brian Quinn, was. He gave you an option to stay home but you figured that since you had nothing else to do, meeting with his three funny friends beat laying around all day.

The guys moved away from the front of the camera to set up for their game. Brian swiftly made his way to you, greeting you with a quick kiss to your lips. You didn’t mean to moan quietly when he kissed you, but you two hadn’t had sex in almost a week because of his busy schedule and you were needy.

Brian gave you a pointed look, “Not here, Y/N.”

“I know, I know. It just came out,” you apologized, smoothing your hands over his broad chest. He looked so fucking good today.

He was wearing his favourite Staten Island shirt which allowed his tattoos to peak out from under the sleeves. He had on regular beige jeans, and though his outfit was simple, it had you fantasizing about him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you much attention lately,” he mumbled, both of his hands now resting on your hips. You picked at a few stray strings on his shirt and he watched with a small smile.

“It’s okay, Bri. We have time,” his smile grew at your words and he was about to respond before Murr’s voice cut through your moment.

“Q, stop flirting with your girlfriend and get over here!”

Brian raised a hand to signal that he heard Murr without looking away from you. You had to admit, the way he ignored other people so easily for you was incredibly hot.

“We’ll be done in 2 hours. You can wait that long,” he commanded more than asked. You shrugged, knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to wait that long especially knowing what was in store for you.

“I definitely can’t,” you drawled out slowly, “so I’ll be in the bathroom over there.”

You discreetly pointed to the library that was close by and his eyes widened. He scoffed at you, studying your face to see if you were kidding. To his surprise, you gave him a short kiss and a squeeze on his bicep before you turned around and walked towards the library, not giving him another glance.

“Q, we don’t have all day, buddy,” Joe called out, and you sighed when you heard your boyfriend walk over to his friends. You didn’t really expect him to ditch his job to fuck you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel bad.

Nonetheless you headed into the library and found your way to the family bathroom which was unoccupied. You slipped into it and locked the door behind you, deciding that if your boyfriend wasn’t going to make you cum, then you would do it by yourself.

You were so needy and your skin felt like it was on fire, so you didn’t care that you were about to pleasure yourself in a washroom. You pulled off your shirt and unhooked your bra, playing with your nipple and throwing your head back against the wall that you were leaning on.

The cool surface was in stark contrast to your overheating skin, and it felt divine. You slowly began to put your hand in your pants, already feeling the wetness that had been there since the second you saw Brian.

You allowed yourself to let out a few, quiet moans as you rubbed circles over your panties. You tried not to be too loud just because you didn’t know how thick the walls were, but it was difficult when you hadn’t gotten off in so long.

“Fuck, Brian!” The moan slipped out of your mouth as you grew sweatier and needier, finally having found a rhythm as your finger slipped inside of you. You didn’t hold back as you pumped your fingers, using the heel of your palm to put pressure on your clit.

Just as you were about to reach your high, a knock on the door snapped you back to reality. You huffed loudly and speedily tried to clean yourself up, running your hands under water and trying to fix your hair. Nothing could properly fix the state you were in but it was good enough, so you opened the door.

“Sorry about th-“

Your words were cut off by lips being forced onto yours, and you moaned as you felt a familiar beard scratch against your face. You were pushed back into the bathroom and the door was shut behind you two before the lock was clicked in place.

You finally opened your eyes and almost fell to your knees at the look that Brian was giving you. His hair was already messy from your hands, his face flushed, and his eyes undressing you.

“Didn’t I tell you to fuckin’ wait?” He growled, pulling his shirt over his head before going for yours. When your breasts were exposed to him, he began attacking them with kisses, licks, and bites.

“I’ve just,” your sentence broke and you moaned when he sucked a hickey into your skin, “been so desperate.”

“Doesn’t mean you can distract me when I’m workin’, does it, sweetheart?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to,” you stuttered, pushing Brian’s long hair out of his face so he could continue kissing your neck sloppily.

“Yeah I fuckin’ bet you didn’t,” he chuckled lowly, “teasin’ me in front of the guys, telling me you’re goin’ to the bathroom. Didn’t think that would distract me?”

“No,” you shook your head, whining when he bit your neck harder than usual.

“I had a fucking hard on while we were filming. That shits gonna be televised,” Q laughed a little, squeezing your cheeks together to make you pout.

“I don’t care, just fuck me,” you said boldly.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he mocked, “if you want it so bad, beg.”

You froze. He had never spoken to you like that, and fuck did it turn you on. You two usually talked about things you liked in bed, and he had never mentioned this level of authority. But you didn’t care. You hadn’t been intimate with him in way too long, and you were horny beyond belief. So you did what anyone would do in your situation, you begged.

“Please, Brian. I need you,” you tested, watching his eyes flutter shut as his grip on your hair tightened.

“You can do better than that.”

“Brian, please make me feel good. I can’t wait any longer, please,” you whined, doing your best to give him doe eyes. He smirked and put his thumb in your mouth, groaning as you worked your tongue around it.

“On your knees.”

You wasted no time as you sank to your knees, looking up at him and blushing hard as he stared back. He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his boxers and pants in one go, letting his cock out of its restraints.

When your mouth fell open, Brian swore he had never seen a prettier sight. You, on your knees in front of him, practically drooling as you waited for him to put his cock in your mouth.

He didn’t give you time to speak as he pushed his length down your throat until he hit the back. You gagged and he pulled out until just the tip was in your mouth, before thrusting back in all the way. He began to face-fuck you, not caring whether you could breathe or not.

“You’re such -fuck- a whore,” he groaned, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat. Your hand snaked down to your clit and you rubbed yourself as he pounded your throat with no mercy.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait for me, huh? No patience,” Brian muttered, slapping you across the face. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to leave a slight sting on your cheek. You could feel saliva dripping down your throat and you desperately breathed through your nose, your lungs burning for air.

Finally you tapped Brian’s thigh and he gave you a second, pulling out of your mouth so you could cough and catch your breath. That didn’t last long because he was already pushing the tip of his cock back in your mouth, and you eagerly accepted it.

He continued his pace, the erotic noise of you choking on his dick along with the occasional slaps he gave you filled the bathroom.

“You only behave when you have my cock in your mouth, huh?” Q looked down at you with dark eyes. You tried your best to nod and he smirked, pushing himself all the way in your mouth and staying there until you gagged.

He pulled out of your mouth completely, letting you pant heavily in an effort to fill your lungs with the air that they had been screaming for. Brian grabbed his cock and began pumping it and you watched as it twitched under his touch.

His head fell back as he continued to pleasure himself, and soon enough he had his hand on the back of your head again, pushing you towards his cock. You once again took it in your mouth and began to swirl your tongue around it, taking the liberty to focus on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so good,” he praised, his hand pushing you down on him, “gonna make me cum.”

You hummed around his cock and smiled as he shivered at the feeling. You could tell he was close, as his hips were beginning to buck into your mouth erratically and his breathing became heavier.

“Y/N,” was all he could groan out as he came, his warm load shooting down your throat. You swallowed the slight salty liquid and continued sucking, milking him dry. When you were sure he was done, you came off of his cock with a ‘pop’.

You could feel your mascara and nose running, and you knew there was saliva and probably a bit of cum running down your mouth, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way Brian breathed in and out heavily, one large hand running through his sweaty hair.

“You okay?” You giggled, slowly kissing from the bottom of his stomach to his chest, then his neck and cheek. You ended with a kiss to his lips, which he gratefully returned.

“God, I love you,” he mumbled against your swollen lips.

“I love you, too.”

“Go wait for me in my car. We’re goin’ home early and fucking.”