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He has a whole folder in his computer files dedicated to your pretty face. Framed in 4k, every angle of your gorgeous form. He'd never show them to anyone (except probably Tim..) They're heavily rewatched, it doesn't matter when. Sometimes, if he's bored, Brian will sit with the laptop balanced on his thighs. Watching your display in front of him like you were really there. He's even talking to you just the same, thankful that he was a quiet cameraman each time you mewled back at him. Begging for a bit more than what he was willing to give you.
He's palming himself to his favorites when he's alone, you're busy and not responding. It's torture to him, but he knows just how to deal with the loneliness. He just needs to open his computer and finding you waiting.
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Brian woke up from the fall a broken husk of the kid he used to be. He's colder, more calculating, more unempathetic. But that boyish charisma and dorkiness he retained from his former identity in tandem with his inhuman grit and conviction just adds to his allure.
His short, feathery tufts of dirty blonde fall over his forehead and just over his straight brows. If you look closely, you'll notice his patches of light freckles over his cheeks and eyelids.
Brian's plush, rosy lips and tooth gap offer a soft juxtaposition to the burliness of his fuzzy, swole pecs, defined arms, and the golden patch of hair tapered into a line just below his belly button. Standing at just under 6ft, his build is sleek and proportionate, lean muscles that look stone-carved by hand.
He has a bunch of healed, old scars but his body is somehow always sliced up, scraped, and bruised in little ways from being a rough and reckless guy. He's kind of a masochist and likes feeling soreness after exerting his body.
"You're staring."
"That's gonna leave a mark."
"Haha, next time, I'll chill, I promise."
There's his iconic painted mask, mustard yellow sweatshirt, and blue jeans- the uniform he wears when operating as Hoody. As for his casual wardbrobe, Brian likes rich, earthy colors, especially greens, blues, browns and black, but he also likes red.
He loves to see you in any color he'd pick for himself. Whether it's a camo shorts, a sky blue picnic dress, or a lacey, ruby red boudoir set, his bright, hazelnut-colored eyes darken, narrowing on you like a predator stalking his prey. He silently debates if he loves seeing you wear it more than he wants to rip it off of you.
"Holy shit, you're fucking gorgeous."
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"I'll buy you another one."
Tree hugger and adrenaline junkie. Big hiker. Brian leaves you breaking a sweat and panting as you trail behind him. He belly laughs unapologetically at you stumbling down the steep paths back to the ground. Loves rock climbing and fishing.
"Watch your step."
"Watch your face, I like it."
One time he tried dirt biking and he considers it one of the best experiences of his life. It was the fast wind and the endless woods flying into nothing behind him, the crackling rumble of the engine under his feet, and the heart thumping thrill that leaves him craving it again.
"I miss having fun."
"Get ready, I'm taking you out."
Loves taking you on coffee dates, but is skeptical and takes precautions against being perceived. He'll wear sunglasses inside the cafe, a dark hoodie pulled tightly over his head, his black gloves covering his fingers.
He wants you to get dolled up, though, like any other date. The cafe reminds Brian of his former life as an ordinary college student, pounding caffeine and shuffling through papers with his buddies.
Now he enjoys watching your little lip bites, your eyes scanning the menu as you decide what to drink, and the way your lipgloss coats the end of your straw as you take sips of it as he sits across from you. He doesn't say much in public, mostly listens while you talk instead.
"Hm."
"Mine's good, taste it."
Brian's reserved at first, but with you, he loves to have wild conversations. He enjoys talking hypotheticals and picking your brain.
Playing devil's advocate is his toxic trait, he'll do it even if he agrees with you, but he thinks you're adorable when you're flustered and a little irritated. You catch on once you recognize that sleazy smirk on his face, the one that slips when he's amused.
"Well, that's what you think."
"I'm fucking with you."
"You look so cute right now."
Infodumps about his interests, especially historical events, machinery and firearms, physiology, and psychology. He knowledgeable about political leaders and ideologies but not because he's heavily politically affiliated, solely due to fixation purposes.
Brian wouldn't call himself a cinemophile, but he can't help but dissect the movies and shows you guys watch together. It's how he enjoys them to the greatest extent honestly.
He's the kind of guy that craves a deep, full understanding and is committed to finding answers. He likes to hear your interpretation and perspective because it gives him insight on your psyche.
"You get what I'm saying?"
"Not sure when I learned that."
Pretty terrible about his vices- the years of college frat partying ripples into his current lifestyle. Brian's a dedicated stoner and tends pound a few beers when he's in the mood, which fluctuates from being rather often to not so much.
"I'm chilling."
"Needed that."
His tolerance is high but he ends up laughing a lot when he's really intoxicated. Brian also gets more affectionate as the world falls away around him. He brushes his fingertips along your skin if you're sitting down together, and pulling you in to feel your warmth and breath you in.
"Fuck, I'm kinda trashed."
Loves your neck- the softness, your smell, your heat. He buries his face in between your neck and your shoulder often and gives you little pecks or nibbles. Brian also loves your face, he'll cup your face tenderly, or squeeze your cheeks together with his hand, planting a kiss on your lips, combing your hair with his fingers.
"Is it hot in here?"
"I'm horny."
"Come here."
Brian's libido is a loaded gun. Look in his eyes too lovingly, his cheeks are already glowing red. Stroke his neck too tenderly, he's stiffening in his pants. Kiss him a tad too deeply, he's twitching and jerking in poor efforts to keep himself from snatching your body up in hands and pinning it somewhere for him to absolutely ruin you.
"Stay still."
"Fuckin' gushing for me, you're so easy babe."
He's big on ownership. Brian wants submission and admission, he'll coax it out of you with his humiliating remarks. It turns your insides to goo when he reads you to shame, how your body responds to his commanding touch, how you turn to hide your flustered face.
Brian groans out teasing quips as you thrash and whine on his cock- making you feel so full, those torturous drags of his length undoing you and putting you back together all over again.
"You can take it."
"Like putty in my hands."
Giving you devastating backshots because you're so easy to maneuver when you're being drilled from behind. Brian's got your wrists bound together on your back in just one of his hands, hips ramming into your ass with loud, resounding smacks.
He grins sickly at your flushed, wrangled body under him, a weak chuckle erupting from his throat at the vision of it. You let out a yelp at hearing him, eyes squeezing shut with embarrassment.
"Holy shit, you're beautiful."
The camcorder's idle spot on the nightstand was not a decision made unintentionally. Brian finds the power button and points the lens to where your bodies connect, capturing the obscenity of his cock spearing the slick folds of your cunt.
His arm extends past your head, panning the frame to focus on your fucked-out expression, his dreamy torso and the center of his waist meeting your ass with each snap of his hips in the background.
Brian's grips your face, his thumb breaching the gap in your lips and settling on your tongue. You gag softly at the intrusion, to which Brian growls satisfiedly that he's getting you looking so pathetic for him on tape.
"Like that, baby, doing so good."
"That's my slut."
"Lookin' so pretty taking my dick."
His fingers wrap your throat, squeezing just enough to send a rush of hazy warmth to your head. He's burying himself to the hilt with each mind-numbing thrust, both of your feral moans overlapping into a lewd, heaving symphony.
The twisted combination of Brian's cruel manipulation tactics with the pleasure of his fuck overwhelms your system, the tension in your gut snapping as you break on his cock, gushing and clenching over his shaft.
"You're all mine, you know that?"
"Say it to me."
"Fuuuck, gonna give it to you, baby."
Your climax drives Brian to his own peak and releases deep inside your sore, beaten raw cunt as he palms the back of your head, locking you into a possessive, suffocating kiss. He drops his forehead to make contact with yours, the hollow space between his front teeth peeking through the sliver of his smirk.
"I fuckin' love you, honey."
"You're stuck with me."
π[regards... i can't express how badly i need this man. it's an affliction. these hc posts for tim and brian have been in drafts for a min, needed to get them out bc i have so many things to work on with my one-shot wips, kinktober, and my first fic series concept that i just conceived last night with brian ahhh. locking in chat...]
