#The Tenderloins | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bqluvr · 2 years

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On Set - (1/2)

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.

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“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.

God, you hated him in that moment.

#brian quinn #brian quinn imagine #brian x reader #quinn x reader #q x reader #sal vulcano #joe gatto #james murray #impractical jokers #the tenderloins

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