Impractical Joker One Shots & Imagines

Q x Reader: We Should Fight More Often!

(SMUT WARNING!!)

Brian and you had been fighting all day. Over the smallest things. What to watch, what to eat, why you were fighting so much... It seemed like it would never end. Eventually, he irritably retired to the couch, while you fled to the bedroom. You didn't want to fight, you really didn't. You both were just too stubborn to admit to being wrong, to back down. You sigh.

Suddenly you had a brilliant idea. A dirty idea, but brilliant nonetheless. You slip into a pair of his boxers and his t-shirt. Seemingly innocent to anyone who didn't know Brian like you did.

You walk into the living room, intentionally walking in front of the TV to get to the other end of the couch. You feel his eyes on you, but you pay him no mind. You sit on the far end of the couch from him. You keep your eyes on the screen, ignoring the smoldering brown eyed gaze boring into you. Finally he speaks.

"Why so far away?" he asks gruffly, as if to sound angry but caring at the same time.

You shrug and move next to him. He wraps his arm around you roughly and rubs your shoulder with his hand. You fight a smirk. You sweetly kiss his cheek during one particularly long commercial break. He looks at you sideways but doesn't say a word. He presses his furry lips to your cheek and leaves it at that. You let a whole 'nother TV segment pass. Then you make your move.

You straddle his lap, as he inhales sharply at the attack. He regards you with an emotional-less expression. You lazily lace your fingers at the base of his neck, resting your forearms on his shoulders. Your fingers stroke and tug at his long hair. He clears his throat and shifts slightly so to keep you from seeing, or rather feeling, the effect your slightest movements are having on him. You give him the smirk that just drives him nuts. You grind a little, sighing. The grunt from him widens your smirk.

"(Y/N)... What're you doing?" he asks slowly, tone clearly saying stop, yet his eyes were almost daring you not to.

"What're you doing?" you ask coyly, hands trailing down his arms. His hardness was becoming hard to ignore. Your wetness wasn't so modest either though.

"(Y/N)." he says, his tone serious. You simply smile and plant a long, slow kiss on him. This seems to be too much for him.

He suddenly flips you so you're under him, while he's on his hands and knees. You smirk up at him, loving the way you can bring out the animal in this man.

He peppers your neck with kisses and nips. He goes down your neck with kisses and nips in turn, while your fingers intwine in his hair. He reaches your collar bone and bites down, rupturing in the sharp moan you give.

"I'm gonna pound you so hard.. I swear.. you're gonna wish you had just left me alone.. instead of getting me all hot and bothered.. God.. you're so bad.. as long as you're only bad for me.." his words send a shiver that goes straight to your core.

Your stomach does flip flops as he roughly pulls the shirt and boxers off of you, exposing your bare body. He runs you in the place you always need him most, and smirks at the slickness. He sucks on his fingers, making you whimper.

"Damn, (Y/N)... looks like I'm not the only one you worked up!" he says cockily, and you feel yourself grow red with arousal and embarrassment alike.

"P-Please Bri.. I just wanted to make up.. say I'm sorry.." you say pathetically, your hand snaking down to tend to yourself. But he catches your wrist and holds it above your head, making you whine. He holds a finger to his lips, eyes burning.

"Let me, or I'll leave you like this." he warns, making you shiver with apprehension.

He takes the finger from his lips, other hand still holding your wrists, and plunged into you. You cry out at the sudden penetration, your hands curling into tight fists. He pumps, pumps pumps, his pace driving you mad.

"You ready for your punishment?" he asks vindictively. Yes, yes, yes you are, you beg, even though you don't know why you're being punished. The man just had this effect over you, even when you attempted to take charge.

He wasn't even undressed yet, the bastard, but his hard-on was quite obvious. You nod, moaning for him.

He smirks. He removes his fingers from you, making you ache for him. The sound of his belt coming undone, his fly opening, is a sound you've learned to love, yearn even.

He pulls his pants and boxers off, pumps once, twice, three times, watching you squirm in anticipation. He finally shunts into you, making you moan very loudly.

"O-oh God..! Y-yes Bri!!" you wail, not remotely abashed at the pitch or volume. He smirks. He slams in and out of you, but his pace isn't enough to fuel the fire raging in the pit of your stomach.

"Does little (Y/N) like it rough? Is she a glutton for Q's punishments? Does she like it when it hurts?" he says, his filthy words simply adding fuel to the raging fire. You moan, yes, yes, a glutton, you need him, his punishments. You're so far gone, you forgot to be infuriated at his demeaning words.

He simply pounds you harder, harder, harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You wail his name, how much you love him, how bad you are, only the things he can elicit from you. He smirks.

"B-Bri! I'm gonna-" you wail, as he continues to pound you senseless. You arch your back, feeling an orgasm begin to take over your senses.

"Me too sweetheart.. cum for me nice and loud baby.. or we'll go again.." he says and with a groan, he released his explosive load into you, right as your juices splurge from you. It's a rare, sentimental thing, to
make love with someone you love. Even more special for you to meld completely as you both rode out your highs together. You fall back on the couch, sweating and panting. He pulls out, flopping next to you. He chuckles and kisses your cheek.

"We should fight more often."