#joseph quinn fandom

[josephqxeddiem]

Portrait

[kassy-djomunson]

Geta, Geta, Geta….

[whatsupsonnyboy]

morning | Joseph Quinn

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY:  just kind of sex without plot!! you and Joseph like morning sex... who doesn't, right?

wc: 2.1K

warning: smut, mdni!! p in v sex, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, stablished couple, hungry Joe

a/n: couldn't get this out of my head so, there you go! Hope y'all like it! This is just another os from all of the ones i said i've been writing. It's not an actual series so you can read them without reeding the rest. It's just that they'll belong to the same universe. Anyway, you can find them all here.

requests are open | masterlist 

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling the stiffness in your body begin to fade. You tried to stretch, but you couldn’t—Joe was wrapped around you, holding you close with no intention of letting go. A lazy smile tugged at your lips. You loved waking up like this.

One of his legs was draped over you, as if even in sleep he needed to keep you near. His arm rested heavy around your waist, his body warm and solid against yours. Soft curls tickled the crook of your neck, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the air. You could just barely make out the shape of his lips, slightly parted, his breath slow and steady against your skin. His heartbeat matched yours, a quiet rhythm in the early morning stillness. This—this was the best part of having him home.

You hadn’t wanted to wake him, but resisting the urge to touch him had never been your strong suit. Your fingers threaded through his curls, relishing the way they tangled slightly before springing back into place. He hummed softly, shifting just a little but making no move to release you. Instead, he held you tighter, his face burying even deeper into the curve of your neck, as if clinging to the last remnants of sleep.

Your hand drifted lower, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His muscles tensed slightly, stretching as he stirred awake.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes remained closed, though he lifted his head just enough for his lips to graze your collarbone.

“It’s still early,” you whispered. “You can sleep a little longer.”

Joe didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, he shifted, nuzzling against you until his head rested fully on your chest, sighing in contentment.

“Mm, it’d be nice if you let me get up, though,” you laughed softly. Not because you minded being his personal mattress, but because your body was beginning to protest being in the same position for too long.

“What if I don’t want to?” His voice carried a teasing edge now, a hint of something else curling at the edges of his words. His grip around your waist tightened. “You’re mine,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin, sending a slow shiver down your spine. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

You let out a breathy laugh, already knowing exactly where this was going. And you could feel it—quite literally—against your hip.

Joe had always been the morning type, all warmth and slow, sleepy kisses, his lips pressing lazy, open-mouthed affection across your skin. He liked to mark you in places only the two of you would know, teasing bites that made your breath hitch, his touch lingering, possessive.

And if there was one thing you had learned about Joe, it was that he never started something he didn’t intend to finish.

His hand slipped under your top, finding the soft curve of your breast with practiced ease. His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles around your nipple until it hardened beneath his touch. You couldn’t suppress the quiet moan that escaped your lips, especially when his other hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you closer—letting you feel just how hard he already was, as if you hadn’t noticed.

“I want you,” he rasped against your neck, his breath hot, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

“I can tell,” you teased, your voice breathy as he stole small, teasing kisses from your lips.

Joe chuckled against your mouth before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, pupils blown wide with need.

You kissed him then, deeper, greedier, as if you were trying to commit the taste of him to memory—as if even a few days apart could make you forget. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you pressed your body against his, chasing the heat between you.

But patience had never been his strong suit. He tugged your top over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. His mouth was on you instantly, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples, teasing, tasting, leaving you squirming beneath him. His right hand trailed lower, fingers slipping beneath the delicate waistband of your thong.

“Fuck, Joe,” you whined, the sensation of his mouth, his hands—his everything—turning you into a trembling mess beneath him.

He pulled back just enough to smirk at you, lips swollen, breath heavy.

“I love how you sound,” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger.

And then, without another word, he shifted between your legs, settling himself lower. Your chest heaved in anticipation, your body already burning with need.

He didn’t bother taking your underwear off. Instead, he simply pushed the damp lace aside and buried himself in your heat, his mouth hot and desperate against you.

A gasp tore from your throat at the sensation—his tongue, his breath, the way he devoured you like he had been starving for you. Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging as his pace quickened, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling.

“But fuck,” he groaned against you, his words vibrating through your skin, making your whole body tremble, “I love how you taste even more.”

You spread your legs wider, giving him all the space he needed, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure of his mouth on you. Every nerve in your body lit up, shivers coursing through you as he devoured you like he had all the time in the world. No matter how many times he had done this before, he always found a way to make it feel even better—like this time would ruin you more than the last.

Your moans filled the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his tongue working over your clit. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you closer to the edge.

“Joe—” His name came out in a broken gasp, more of a warning than anything else. You were close, really fucking close.

You felt the curve of his stupid grin against your thigh before his fingers joined his tongue, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate stretch. Two fingers, moving in perfect sync, curling just right.

Words failed you, lost in the overwhelming sensation, and the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, wrecked moan that sent a shudder through Joe’s body.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “Just let go.”

And you did. Within seconds, you shattered beneath his touch, falling apart on his tongue, his fingers. He groaned as he felt you come undone, as if he could get drunk on the way you trembled for him.

When his eyes finally met yours, you were still shaking, your breath ragged and uneven. He smirked, entirely too pleased with himself, but that look—the one that told you he knew exactly what he had just done to you—only made you crave more.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The moment your tongue slid against his, his cock twitched against your thigh, still painfully hard.

“You’re hungry for more, huh?” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with amusement and lust.

“Always,” you admitted, nipping at his bottom lip. “I’m fucking starving when it comes to you.”

Without hesitation, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hips rolling against his still-clothed erection. You started trailing kisses down his neck, slow and teasing, leaving a path down to his shoulders.

Joe groaned, a curse slipping from his lips, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises—bruises you knew would still be there tomorrow. But fuck, you loved it. You loved how he handled you like he needed you just as much as you needed him.

You stripped him of his boxers, just as you had done with your abandoned thong, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. You were desperate to feel him—completely, exactly as he was. And yet, you didn’t let him slip inside you right away.

Instead, you dragged your dripping center against him, letting the hard length of his shaft slide over your swollen clit. The friction sent electric pulses through your body. He could feel how wet you were, feel your slick coating him as you rocked against him, teasing, tormenting.

“I need to be inside you,” he groaned. It should have been a command, but it came out as a plea—low, rough, edged with hunger.

You wanted to tease him longer, to make him beg for it, but you were just as desperate. Maybe more.

Lifting your hips, you positioned yourself over him, feeling the thick tip of his cock press against your entrance. Slowly, Joe pushed inside, stretching you inch by inch, making you take him. Your moans tangled together, shameless and raw, filling the space between you.

No matter how many times he had been inside you, he always made you feel completely, devastatingly full.

Your hips moved instinctively, finding a slow, deep rhythm, pulling soft, breathy moans from him that matched your pace—controlled at first, almost painfully so. But it didn’t last.

Soon, you picked up the rhythm, rolling your body against him, and his hands gripped your ass tightly, guiding your movements, pressing you down onto him. You kept your eyes locked on him because you loved to watch him like this—lips parted, swollen, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off your body, the way your breasts bounced with every movement, the way you took him so well.

You wanted to burn this image of him into your mind forever.

The groans spilling from his lips spurred you on, making you rock against him faster, harder, taking him deeper. The friction was dizzying, overwhelming, and the way he met your thrusts—his hips snapping up to meet yours, filling you over and over again—made your vision blur.

“Fuck, Joe…” you whimpered, and he cursed under his breath, gripping you tighter as he thrust into you, deeper, harder.

He answered by meeting your hips with his own, thrusting up into you so deep it knocked the air from your lungs. Your head tilted back, your breath turning ragged, the sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder, filthier.

“Babe,” he choked out, voice strained, his control slipping. You could tell he was close.

So you didn’t stop, chasing the pleasure flooding through you, knowing you were right there with him.

Joe caught on, grabbing your hips, shifting the rhythm so you were grinding against him instead of bouncing, the new angle making his cock press against that perfect, devastating spot inside you. Your mouth fell open, a strangled moan leaving your lips as your entire body tensed. The pressure coiled tight in your belly, spreading like wildfire, consuming you whole.

He felt it.

Felt the way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him, dragging him over the edge right along with you. He groaned your name as he came, spilling into you just as you shattered around him, your legs shaking, your body trembling violently against his.

The room was filled with the sounds of it—heavy breathing, skin against skin, the sharp thud of the headboard hitting the wall as both of you came undone.

And for a moment, nothing else existed but this.

The air in the room was thick, heavy with heat and the scent of sweat and sex. Your body still trembled slightly, your muscles aching in the best possible way as you collapsed against him, your forehead resting on his damp shoulder.

Joe's arms wrapped around you lazily, fingers tracing soft, absentminded circles on your back. His heartbeat was still erratic beneath your cheek, his breath uneven as he let out a satisfied, breathy chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You smirked, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against his neck. “Then at least you’ll die happy.”

His chest shook with laughter, and he tightened his hold on you, as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Neither were you.

For a while, neither of you spoke. There was no need. Just the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

Then Joe hummed lazily, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple.

“You up for round two?”

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

He smirked, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion, his body settling comfortably over yours.

“And you love it.”

[cherrysgf]

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

having some thoughts about clingy! eddie….

clingy! eddie who just can’t bear to be away from you, whether you’re just heading to the store or even just using the bathroom, he hates any minute he’s away from you! you’re the love of his life, why should he ever have to be separate from you?

clingy! eddie who absolutely loves any sort of physical affection. and not just sex (although he loves having sex with you, don’t get him wrong). hugs, cuddles, kisses, all of it! he just needs to be touching you in some sort of way! speaking of kisses…

clingy! eddie who loves kissing you anywhere and everywhere he can reach. you’re lying down on his chest? he’s leaning down to kiss the top of your head. you’re holding his hand as you walk somewhere together? he’s pulling yours up to kiss your knuckle. his face is buried between your thighs? you better believe he’ll place a bunch of sloppy wet kisses on them!

clingy! eddie who will call you 24/7 on days he can’t see you. say you can’t hang out with him after school because you have to study for a test, or your mom wants you home early. that’s okay! he’ll happily be on the other line of the phone with you as you do whatever it is you need to do.

clingy! eddie who, if unable to get in contact with you while you’re away from him, will literally mope and whine like a lost puppy. you could literally be seeing him the next day for school, but he’ll just miss your presence. it’s just so unfair! why should he have to spend time away from you?

clingy! eddie who is sometimes afraid he’s being a little too clingy. that maybe one day you’ll tired of him constant following you around and you’ll realize you could do so much better than him - but of course, that’ll never happen, because you absolutely fucking adore your clingy boyfriend.

[lovejosephquinn]

think it’s time for a throwback thursday, remember when

and then this

omg but can you remember

no wait fr but

how could we forget

what a journey 😮‍💨 that’s enough reminiscing for one day

[natpetittblog]

Joseph Quinn is the REAL scream queen, let’s be honest here

[exquisiteserotonin]

Light My Fire

Pairing: Johnny Storm X Female!Reader

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Word Count: 5451 | Read on AO3

Summary: You're a very serious photographer and journalist, you're less than thrilled about having a shoot with the Johnny Storm. As the shoot progresses you find yourself full of surprises.

Warnings: Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, P in V (protected, come on wrap it up!), Sort of enemies to lovers, but not really

A/N: Let's just say with all the influx of Fantastic Four: First Steps press we have been inundated with I felt very inspired. I find all the period correct ads, magazine covers, and shoots so fun. Joe as Johnny shoots inspired this. I also found a lot of inspiration from old Paul Newman photoshoots that were particularly sexy (you should check them out when you can). This led to a scenario where I thought Johnny could do something different and more...raw as it were. If you've not read any of my other works, I can be pretty long winded and probably set up scenes way too much. Anyway I hope you all enjoy. This is not beta read AT ALL. So be kind. I was just super impatient to share it with you all.

Also this song, bc Joe said so.

It was early. Almost too early, your colleagues would tell you. That was probably true, but arriving early helped you feel more prepared, more in control. You shuffled around your set for today: a large, beautiful home that your friend so generously allowed you to use for the day while she was gone. You floated around, positioning your soft boxes and light umbrellas strategically around the room. You tapped your fingertips to your lips in thought as you envisioned different poses for your model today. It was a futile practice trying to completely plan your shoot beforehand, knowing it would be largely dependent upon the model. 

Truth be told, you weren’t looking forward to this shoot, no matter how many people told you that you needed to be. You were shooting THE Johnny Storm, after all. An audible sigh escaped you. The last thing you wanted was to photograph a cocky “superhero” who monopolized his good looks to be in commercials and on the cover of teen magazines. At least this would give your art the exposure you wanted. As much as you hated to admit it, this shoot and this article could be a game changer for your career.

The rest of the team came in starting with your assistant and followed closely by the hair and makeup artists. 

“You look cute today,” your makeup artist said with a bright smile. 

You’d worked with her before many times, enough that you would consider her a friend. You followed her into a large bathroom the team set up as a dressing room. You glanced at yourself in the mirror as you tightened your red and cream-colored scarf around your ponytail before smoothing the wrinkles out of your white button up blouse and black pedal pushers. 

“Hey, sit down for a second,” she said and gestured towards a chair for you to sit down. “It just needs a little something extra.” 

You gave her a side eye, but obliged her. A puff of air escaped your lips when you as she opened her case of makeup. She looked back at you squinting her eyes at you. You stiffened, realizing once again how hard it was for you to hide your judgement. 

“Relax,” she cajoled you as she grabbed a tube of lipstick and a lip brush, “you just need a little bit of color.”  

The bright red of the lipstick blasted your eyes as she twisted it open, coating the brush with color that she swept onto your lips. Your view of yourself in the mirror was obscured by her standing before you and you fidgeted with anxious hands before she moved to let you see yourself. 

“A little red lipstick never hurt anyone,” she squealed. “No shame in looking your best for the Johnny Storm.”

You made a feeble attempt to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I’m at work and he’s just,” you paused to toss out a dismissive wave of your hand, “the talent.”

The onset hair stylist stopped her preparations sucking in air with a loud gasp. Now they were both staring at you, their eyes round and wide-open as though you’d uttered the worst sacrilege. The makeup artist snapped the lipstick tube closed before setting it on the counter.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she added. 

She smiled at you and brought her face next to yours in the mirror. She hugged you and joined you in looking at your reflections in the mirror. 

“You are going to rock this shoot, my little workaholic,” she said with a playful grin. “I’m just making sure you look extra cute doing it.”

She took the tube of lipstick from the counter and handed it to you with a wink. 

“What’s this for?” You asked. 

“Oh, you know, in case you need to reapply.”

You raised your brow at her, once again fighting to hold back a roll of your eyes and an exasperated sigh.

“Talent on set!” you heard the voice of your assistant call out. 

Johnny Storm strutted into the dressing room just as you moved to go back to the living room to finalize your set up. All your colleagues froze as he strutted in, their eyes being pulled directly to him as though they were being enticed by an unseen magnetic field. Immune to it, you barely noticed when he held out his hand to introduce himself to you. 

“I’m shooting with you today, right?” He flashed a smile at you; his hand still extended towards you. “I’m Johnny Storm.” 

You studied his face and how it beamed with what felt like overconfidence. A flicker of impatience twinkled in his blue eyes while his hand began to waiver slightly as he waited for you to take it. You swore you heard a low sigh mixed with relief and exasperation escape him when you finally took it in a firm handshake. 

“You did your homework,” you acknowledged him with a surprised and impressed nod of your head before introducing yourself. 

“Your body of work precedes you,” Johnny said, his lips curling up into a half smile as he squeezed your hand. 

The play on words wasn’t lost on you and you saw your friend’s eyes scream at you to hold back the eye roll she knew you wanted to let go. Somehow you managed and noticed he wasn’t a hard read as you held his gaze with your own. The charm oozed off him like a second skin. His reputation had preceded him as well and so far, you weren’t impressed with it. You hoped as the shoot went on, he’d be able to give you something a little more than this nicely packaged heartthrob persona that he made sure to show everyone he met. 

“Ok, Mr. Storm, I’ll leave you to it,” you said, gesturing towards the hair and makeup chair. “I’m just going to do one more lighting test and I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“You don’t want to discuss possible shots or poses?” He asked with a raised brow. “You can also call me Johnny, by the way.”

“Well, I like my shoots to be heaps more organic and natural,” you explained to him. “So don't worry your pretty little head; I think I’ve got it covered Mr. Storm.” 

You sashayed away and gestured towards your assistant.  You held her hand closely and pulled her in towards you. 

“Artistic control is important,” you explained to her as she listened intently, “make sure we let the team know what I’m expecting and this will be the best shoot.” 

A large wall of windows brightened the room, bringing the outside in. But it wasn’t what you wanted. What Johnny Storm didn’t know was that you had done your homework too.  Every photoshoot you’d seen him do was bright, colorful, and geared towards a younger demographic ready to buy any magazine that had a fold out poster of him. You pulled the roller shades down on every other window allowing for a mix of dark and light. It would be a way for you to play with light and shadows in a creative way. Bold. Dramatic. And as much as you hated using the word in this context, smoldering.

You held your hand out in front of you visualizing in your mind’s eye the flow of your shoot. You were so lost in your thought, you barely noticed the clicks of Johnny’s feet on the terrazzo floor signaling his entrance. 

“Are you ready for me?” He inquired and you turned to face him. 

He stood before you, wearing a perfectly pressed dress shirt in a deep rusty orange and beige dress slacks. You beheld him in silence with a tilt of your head. He furrowed his brow as you studied him. He looked nice, perfectly acceptable in appearance, if you were going to bring him home to meet your parents. That may have worked for Teen Living Magazine, but not for you. 

You stepped forward and gestured towards his shirt, “May I?”

“Um, sure…,” he acquiesced but you heard the caution in his voice.

You released a breathy chuckle as took hold of his right arm and began unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt, “Relax, it’ll look good on camera.” 

“And if it doesn’t,” he said with a chuckle, “can I burn the film?”

“Oh well,” you said with a laugh rising up in spite of yourself while you rolled up the other sleeve, “you fancy yourself a comedian huh?”

“Nothing fancy about it,” he said with a playfulness in his eyes, “just organic, natural even.”

You begged for your expressions not to betray you, but couldn’t help but be a smidge impressed that he turned his words back to you. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands were soft but also strong. The veins at the back of his hands traveled to his wrist and forearms. He kept steady as you rolled up the sleeves of his shirt quickly, not paying any attention to if it was neat or not. Undone was better. 

Your sole focus had been rolling up his sleeves, so when you looked up it took you aback to see him holding an unrelenting gaze upon you. It was the first time you really noticed him: the vivid blue of his eyes, his chiseled jaw, and his full, rosy lips. Your eyes darted to his tightly buttoned collar and looked up at him. 

“Do you mind if I just—,” your voice trailed off as you pointed to the neck of his shirt. 

“Sure,” he replied, his voice lowered as you stepped forward. “You have the vision.”

You approached him with a gentle touch of your hands, bringing your fingers to unbutton the top button, then a second one. You avoided eye contact, but you could feel his eyes on you and as you made the decision to undo one last button an immediate feeling of heat rushed over you. You looked up at Johnny, confused, feeling your cheeks and chest flush as though you’d just walked outside on a hot summer day. 

“Just one more thing,” you said before, ever so slightly, mussing his perfectly set blonde hair with your fingers. 

A sigh escaped your lips and you both seemed to heave a sigh of relief as you backed away from him. You gestured for him to find his way to the sunken living room while you positioned yourself behind your tripod a few feet away from him. Your assistant shuffled in next to you, taking one look at Johnny only to let out an interesting blend of a sigh and squeak. 

“Oh, he looks extra dreamy!” She whispers to you in awe, fighting to contain her excitement. 

You tilted your head towards her and silenced her with a raise of your brow. She tightened her lips and let you work. You observed him as he walked around the large sunken living space. You followed him with your viewfinder, snapping photos of him looking out the window, admiring the view, his hands instinctively finding his pockets. The sound of your camera shutter caught his attention and he turned to you. The creativity in your mind sparked with elation as you caught his perfectly  unguarded, but inquisitive expression that showed in how he raised one eyebrow with his lips slightly parted. 

“Oh, you’ve started,” he called out, as he started walking towards you. 

You smiled and unlatched your camera from the tripod, “I feel like I’ve already gotten a few great shots—not to say you haven’t done great shoots before—I’m just hoping to capture a side of Johnny Storm we rarely get to see.”

”And what side would that be?” He asked, rubbing his fingers across his smug smile and downward to his chin. 

You found him again in your viewfinder at that exact moment. The innate feeling that you had caught something magical took over and fed your creative energy. You stopped and held your camera down at your waist, searching for silent answers that may have revealed themselves in the spark in his eyes and in the twitch of his lips. 

“I don’t know—you tell me,” you replied earnestly. “What do you really wish people knew about you?”

Johnny paused and looked out the window, his entire demeanor brimming with contemplation. You moved towards him, drawn towards the beauty of his profile. You snapped another photo. 

He took a long, deep breath before turning eyes to you. That same heat began to creep up again. It was a little more intense this time as his stare locked in on you like a target. Another photo. 

“There’s not much to hide,” he finally replied, “it’s hard not to be an open book when you’re living in a glass house.”

You brought your camera to your side, not satisfied with his answer. Though an unexpected feeling of sympathy kindled as you observed his bravado slowly start to slip away. You gestured for him to move closer to you, pointing towards a spot on the built-in sofa. 

“Lean back here,” you told him, seating him half in the shadows and half in the light. 

“Whatever you say, boss.” 

Johnny obliged with a wink and rested his left forearm on his thigh while he fiddled with his collar with the other. You slipped off your ballet flats and sat on the sofa next to him tucking your legs beneath you in a kneeling position. You took a photo, the light and shadows framing and accentuating his handsome features. His eyes somehow appeared larger and his lips somehow fuller. 

“That’s just a persona though isn’t it: The Human Torch?” You added thoughtfully. “I don’t believe that’s you all of the time.”

Johnny had been looking down at his hands before he looked up at you. His expression softened and the lines on his face disappeared with an unexpected vulnerability that he seemed desperate to hide. He leaned forward, closing the space between you. The dew of perspiration accumulated at your forehead and at your chest as he looked at you. 

“That’s kind of what people expect,” Johnny said in a low whisper. 

His lips were slightly parted and his brow slightly furrowed, revealing a few lines on his forehead. They revealed a frustration unspoken and a pressure that welled beneath his handsome and well-coiffed exterior. It was yet another photo that begged to be taken, especially when he looked more handsome in that moment than when walked through the door. The set was so quiet that you immediately noticed the quick intake of breath he took and the tight clasp of his hands as soon as you took the photo. 

Sensing his discomfort, you set your camera down next to you, placing your hands in your lap before leaning into the back of the sofa. 

“You don’t have to meet everyone else’s expectations,” you told him, holding his image in the camera of your brain. “Just your own.” 

Johnny leaned back against the coach and shifted his body to face you. You stared at each other in silence for a moment and that same heat you felt earlier circulated through the entire room. As his body relaxed, you observed how his lips curled into a playful smile. The heat was beginning to make you woozy but you still managed to take up your camera to capture this moment of ease that Johnny had finally given into.

You took a deep breath and gesture for your assistant to come to the sunken living room. She tugged at her shirt and you noticed from the slight flush of her cheeks that heat was affecting her too. You fan yourself and push a bead of sweat back into your hair. 

“Could you get me a water and maybe one for Johnny, too,” his ears perked when you called him by his first name. “And check on the thermostat too, it’s starting to get really hot in here.” 

“That’s hard too,” Johnny’s voice trailed off as he continued your conversation, “when your own expectations are already high.” 

“Because you’re a superhero?” You questioned. “Seems unfair and unrealistic to hope and pray for a moment to be saved by someone like you, or the rest of your family for that matter.”

“It’s too bad more people don’t see it that way,” stretching his arms back behind him before resting the back of his head in his hands.

You brought your hand to your forehead, swiping the sweat from your face before picking up your camera to take another photo. He smiled and tilted his head towards you, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

“You know, this,” you pointed at him, his body at ease, “this is way hotter than anything you could ever do for Teen Living.” 

A boisterous laughter left him in response to your words, a laugh you were able to capture on film.

“That’s all part of the spectacle too, isn’t it?” He said as you stood up to get a few more full body shots. 

“I didn’t want the spectacle today, everyone gets that.” Your voice was soft and you hoped it was filled with kindness. “I just wanted to see you.”

Johnny continued to walk towards you and the heat continued to rise with sweat beading down the neck of your blouse. Despite the growing heat,  you felt frozen as he moved to close the gap between you. So, this, this was the Johnny everyone swooned over. You fell into a nearly frantic state as he moved closer, his face so dangerously close to yours. 

The quick clicks of your assistant’s feet on the terrazzo took you from the moment. You turned to her, flustered and your cheeks rosy. You could easily lie to her at that moment and blame it on the rising heat. She held out the two waters you had asked for. You could see her hair was damp at her temples, yet another sign of the relentless heat.

“The thermostat seems to be working fine,” she informed as she wiped sweat away from her upper lip.

“This is too much, we can’t work like this,” you told her with a disappointed shake of your head. “There’s got to be something wrong with the air conditioning. I’ll talk to my friend, but you, and the hair and makeup team should go home.”

She nodded and you let them go to pack up their things. You turned back to Johnny, your shoulders sloping down in disappointment. You shook your long ponytail off your back, letting the back of your neck air out from the heat. 

“Can I at least help you pack up your equipment?” Johnny asked, pointing towards your camera. 

Before you could answer, your assistant and the rest of the team walked past you. They waved goodbye as they fanned themselves, desperate to get away from the heat. Their voices rang out in one more loud goodbye before the door closed behind them. 

“You don’t need to do that,” you insisted as he moved close to you again, his hands open to assist you. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed we couldn’t finish the shoot—I think I was about to make a breakthrough.”

Johnny smiled and took the camera from your hands. He pointed it in your direction, snapping a photo of you. He handed it back to you, his eyes scanning your face from your eyes to your lips and back up again. 

“I would say that you did,” Johnny replied as you set the camera down on the coffee table next to you. 

You fought to keep your breaths even and calm with each centimeter he moved towards you. You closed your eyes as you drew in deep breath and were met with the sight of his handsome face, dangerously close to yours once again. 

“H-how so?” You ask, as you grip your still bare feet to the floor like you were bracing yourself for something. 

“I told you I’m not great at hiding certain things,” he explained as his hand closed in on your arm, haunting you with a ghost of his hot touch. “There’s probably nothing wrong with the thermostat; the heat—,” 

Your jaw drops in realization that it was Johnny all along. The heat. You should have known and you felt like kicking yourself.   

“It was you,” you sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice lowering with a hint of embarrassment, “when it’s something like this, sometimes, it’s hard to control it.”

You watched his expression change before you as he recognized and read your thought process. The same vulnerability he had shown you moments ago returned as he turned his gaze away from you. It silently revealed his uncertainty about how you’d react to his explanation. Drawn to him, just as your colleagues had been, you pressed your hand to his collar. You began to fidget with it before tip-toeing your fingers along his neck up to his jaw. Realizing you had nothing to lose, you pulled him in for a kiss. You pushed your body into his and you felt his heat and the way his member reached for you against his pants. His hands, then his arms slipped around your waist and he parted your lips with his tongue. 

“Then don’t control it,” you whispered into his ear when you parted your lips from his. 

His hand was steady on your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. His fingers brushed the nape of your neck until they found themselves pulling at the scarf holding your ponytail. He let the scarf drop to the floor and your waves cascaded down your back.  A gasp and squeal left your body as he lifted you. He squeezed your ass, coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you back to the couch. 

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed out, his hands sliding to the front of your shirt, unfastening every button.

You helped him push your shirt off you. Your breaths grew faster and faster as he kissed your lips, your chin, your neck, and the tops of your breasts. As he did, you reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Johnny’s breaths burned your skin with desire and he pulled your bra from your body, exposing your nipples that he swiftly began exploring with his tongue. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his mouth moved down your waist. 

You closed your eyes when his lips met the waist of your pants. You weren’t able to stop your breaths from quickening as he pulled your pants down your hips. With a gruff moan he tossed them across the floor. With one deep breath you lifted your head to meet his blue eyes staring into you. He massaged up your calves to your thighs with his warm hands, and placed kisses between your legs. He pushed your legs open wider, caressing a damp spot at your panties with a gentle touch that made your back arch. 

“You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured, rubbing his fingers up and down the soft fabric, the lone barrier between you and him. 

“Johnny,” you whined, your pussy trembled and clenched in desperation for him. “Do something, please.”

You squeezed your eyes tight, surrendering to each sensation his hands and lips bloomed in your body. His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, pulling them down the length of your legs. You were near delirious with desire as you waited in desperation for whatever he did next. Your eager anticipation couldn’t prepare you for the euphoric feeling of Johnny dipping into your folds, with a long, slow, and hot press of his tongue. 

“Jesus,” you gasped as he licked through your folds, deeper, slower, and better than you’ve ever been licked by any man. 

The sounds that echoed out from Johnny’s mouth as he devoured you grew louder and more obscene. The pleasure vibrated through every fold, moving outward like growing ocean waves in a storm. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes while you gripped at the cushions of the couch, your body growing hotter, your heart beating faster, and your breaths growing more and more shallow. 

“I love the way you taste,” Johnny growled as he let go of you to take a breath. 

“Please don’t stop!” you begged, your hands clutching his forearms.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he moaned, his hot breath caressing your skin. 

One finger, then two found its way inside you. You wiggled and writhed at his touch, knowing with each move he made it was only going to get better. He proved it as quickly as the thought came to the front of your mind, the tip of his tongue finding your clit. You cried out a chorus of “oh gods” followed by a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush as his tongue flicked and rolled passionately upon your clit as he continued to pump in and out of you with his fingers. Your toes curled and you threw your head back as the peak of your pleasure erupted and you felt wave after wave resonate through every nerve ending of your body. 

“Johnny!!” You let out a long, loud moan from the back of your throat as you came.

Sweat rested over your body like a beautiful, morning dew. You panted as Johnny released his mouth from your center. As you caught your breath you managed to open your eyes to see him beginning to undress, discarding his shirt to the floor, followed by his pants. He stood before you in his blue briefs. The sight of him palming his erection paired with the remaining shivers of your orgasm left you in a state of near delirium. You tried to compose yourself in preparation for him. That ridiculous sunscreen billboard wasn’t an exaggeration. His body was just that good.

“I need you,” you sighed at the sight of him, finally catching your breath enough to stand up. 

He practically lunged at you after your words left your lips. His hands explored your back, your hips, and your ass as he kissed you. You threaded your fingers through his soft, blonde hair and pressed your naked body to his, moaning at the feeling of his erection against you. You walked him backwards towards the couch, before admiring his entire being with your eyes. His shoulders and biceps were defined and the line of his abs drew your gaze straight to his cock. He understood what you needed without you uttering a word and he pulled his briefs off to join your clothes, like refuse you had no need for. His cock stood at the height of attention and twitched and pulsed in want for you. 

“Sit down,” you said, a simultaneous order and a plea that he was more than willing to oblige. 

You stood over him as he looked up at you, his hands explored your hips and ass until you placed a leg on either side of him. You took his hard cock with a few pumps of your hand before you sat lower on his lap, rubbing your wet center onto him. His hands journeyed up your right side, massaging your breasts until he continued up to hold the back of your neck. 

“Are you sure?” He growled into your ear, realizing he didn’t have any protection on him.

“It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He moaned a sigh of relief as you continued to rub yourself on him. Hot, heaving breaths escaped from his gorgeous mouth as you lined him up at your entrance before finally lowering yourself onto him. 

“My god,” he growled as you began to move on top of him, savoring every inch of his girthy cock with a squeeze of your pussy. 

The pleasure of being in control of him only made you want to roll your hips harder on him. His  mouth dropped open with a low moan and his eyes widened in ecstasy as you rode him. You smiled as you arched your back into his hands that braced you against him with a secure grip. You pressed your forehead to his as you bounced,  your sweat mixing with his in the most perfect union. You squeezed his face with your hands to pull him in for a messy and wild kiss. When you looked into his eyes, you swore you saw a spark in them just before he thrust his hips hard up into you. 

“Oh shit, Johnny,” you yelped as he hit the perfect spot over and over with his relentless upward thrusts that grew faster and faster. 

If he kept this up, neither of you would last very long. You arched your back towards him, his lips kissing your chest until his tongue found your right nipple. His hungry growls filled the room in symphony with your whimpers and moans. He continued to drive into you while you met each thrust with a rhythm of your hips that matched his. 

“Jesus,” he growled through gritted teeth, “I’m going to come.”

You knew it already. The signs were all there: fast breaths, sweat spread over every inch of your bodies, the way you trembled against each other, each move felt like something out of control for both of you. Best of all, you felt it. You couldn’t stop your pussy from squeezing his cock. The way the head of his cock, hit that exact spot over and over and over until you could no longer speak. You could only hold onto him tighter and dig your nails into his back and surrender your body to him. 

“M--me too,” you squealed breathlessly, “oh god, oh god, oh god!” 

His fingers gripped hard into your flesh as he abandoned all control with the roughest, strongest final thrust that was accompanied by a loud groan that filled the large room as he filled you. Not far behind, you chanted out an invocation composed only of his name as you fell apart in final worship of his cock. 

Your foreheads collapsed against each other, feeling each other's hot breaths blend together. Your sweat began to cool each other as you came down from the ultimate ecstasy. You felt him twitch inside you one last time, making you shudder with a shaky breath. You lifted your hips and sighed as he pulled out of you.

“Is this the side of Johnny Storm you were hoping for?’ He asked as he pushed your sweat-laden tresses from your face. 

You shook your head with a coy smile, “Better; but I’m pretty sure that all of that was off the record.” 

“Hmmm,” Johnny pushed his lips forward in a teasing pout, “I suppose we could try again.”

“Pretty certain anything we do from this point forward is going to have to be off the record.”

The corners of his lips, still puffy and full of lust, turned up into a coy smile. He pushed his hips upwards toward you again before pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. 

“What a sacrifice!!” He teased, as he intertwined his hand in your hair, before caressing a gentle finger to your lips. “Your lipstick is a little smeared.”

“Oh no!” You exclaimed, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. 

“No, no,” Johnny reassured, his eyes mesmerized by you, “you’re beautiful.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at his gentle words. But an unexpected sweeping sound of the front door opening startled you both into action. You grabbed Johnny’s shirt to cover yourself, while he scurried to grab a cushion—the only thing ample enough to cover him. 

“I just remembered I left my red lipstick with you—OH!” 

It was your makeup artist standing before you, her jaw dropping at the sight of you. You stared at her and watched as her mouth turned into a glee-filled smile. 

“Yes, umm—can I get it back to you sometime?” You requested as you buried your face in Johnny’s shoulder. 

“Absolutely, no worries—in fact you should just keep it!” She insisted before mouthing the words: Oh my god, it worked!

As quickly as she burst in, she was gone. You and Johnny looked at each other in a few moments of silence before you both erupted with uproarious laughter. It was the only way to respond to the moment.

“So, same time next week?” You teased before giving a small peck on the lips.

“Damn, not sooner?”

“Will you be able to fit me into your busy superhero schedule?”

“Oh, trust me,” he replied, pulling you into him, “I’ll find the time.”

[missmarveledsblog]

Dustin's got a sister? ( Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)

summary : friday where DND nothing would stop that except the discovery of Dustin Hendersons older sister of course which leds to eddie wondering if he was wrong about the whole love at first sight thing being crap .

warnings : fluffy fast burn , mutual pinning , eddie being a simp for sure . picture doesn't represent the reader it was just a fic cover i made

Friday meant one thing to Eddie munson and that was Hellfire night . The club were beginning what he could only describe as his best campaign yet ,the loud roars and cheer or cries filled the basement of Dustin Henderson since the older boys graduated it became the new spot . What Eddie didn't know was that the boys were not the only ones in the house as the music upstairs caused them to halt and look to the owner of said basement in confusion .

 " It's just my sister , ignore her" he shrugged, wanting to continue but the sudden excitement of Lucas and Mike only made the older boy more curious .

" sister since when do you have a sister" Eddie almost challenged. " since my mom and dad you know and then she was born" Dustin's head tilted knowing he'd mentioned her before .

"and She's smoking hot" Lucas blurted out for Mike Wheeler to nod eagerly in agreement.

" How come we've never seen her around?" Gareth asked .

" because she went to a different school and usually she was with her asshole boyfriend but they broke up also she hangs out with Steve and robin, she also busy with college stuff " Dustin looked around the table seeing all their confused faces.

" Wait, I've never seen her when I hang out with them" Eddie looked at the boy .

" that's because she was with her boyfriend ,I literally just said that" he rolled his eyes.

" hey dusty bun you down there .... Oh shit sorry i forgot you had company" all their eyes landed on the woman standing there hair wrapped in a towel and dressed in shorts and tank top .

" hey Y/N" Lucas waved dreamingly . 

" Hey Sinclair," she smiled . 

" Hey wanna join," Mike asked.

" I can't tonight. I got a paper due on Monday, just came down to see if Dustin ate , but now the question expands , "Do you guys want pizza?" she smiled bright towards them, eddie could have sworn he had drool coming out of his mouth .

" yeah totally would eat pizza with you" Jeff chin resting in his hands . " Ok pepperoni would be a safe choice right" she looked, seeing them all nod . " ok i shall call when it's here " she ran up the stairs, cheeks heated suddenly aware of her attire and the eyes of the boys roaming her body . 

" How the hell is that your sister?" gareth asked, totally in awe .

 " Told you , smoking hot" Lucas beamed proudly.

" You asked her to join, why ?" Eddie almost whispered not ready for the answer in fair of his mind short circuiting even more that it was . " because she's the reason that we know how to play" Mike whispered back, sending the group of boys almost into a group of school girls fawning .

 " So you're telling me that the smoking hot goddess of a woman is a nerd like us" .

 " Can you all please stop calling my sister hot?" Dustin grimaced, suddenly regretting offering his basement for the Hellfire club . when the music changed and the familiar riffs flooded his ear drums . 

" Is that?... YOUR HOT SISTER LIKES METAL" Eddie almost roared across the table . 

" Is it too late to quit hellfire?" Dustin groaned.

It seemed the campaign was forgotten about after half an hour of questioning. Dustin Henderson was never more grateful for the pizza man's arrival but when she told them to come up he was almost trampled as his friends tried getting up the stairs .

" holy shit you guys must be hungry , no need to panic i got more than enough " she laughed seeing them pushing each other out of the way . 

" Totally starving" gareth smiled brightly.

" ok well plates are there and help yourself" she pointed to the counter .

" ladies first" Eddie smiled, arm outstretched . 

" Thank you" she moved, grabbing her plate and pizza before heading to the sofa. " I just stuck on halloween if you guys wanna join" she called eyes on the screen not seeing the pushing and shoving happening in the kitchen before eddie smiled victoriously beside her. " I love this movie" he winked . 

" I literally only started it so you all aren't missing much ... wait what about the campaign" her head tilted as they all sighed in content.

" Apparently due to hormones it's over" Dustin grumbled sitting on the other side of her . 

" Shit sorry that was my fault if I'm being too loud I can go to my room" she offered only for a chorus of no's and don't to fill the room . " you're fine, really we can do it another time apparently" Dustin smiled seeing the worry on her face. Before anyone else could say anything the doorbell went off making her run out to see who it was totally forgetting she invited steve and robin over.

" hey if you can find a place to sit" she led the two in.

" Hey guys," the three kids called.

"Hey Harrington man , nice to see you , how come you never mentioned the sweetheart of a sister Dustin had before" Eddie smiled yet glaring at his friend.

" because Dustin told me not to" he shrugged, heading off to the kitchen .

 "Do I embarrass you or something?" She turned to her brother.

" No just you were with that douche before and i didn't want him embarrassing me" he lied easily . 

" That's a good point," Robin nodded .

 " I hated that guy so much" Steve agreed eagerly as he handed Robin her plate as he sat beside Dustin .

 " Ok enough about my ex and let's watch the movie" she huffed, letting her damp nearly dry hair out of the towel . As soon as the lights went out all their attention went to the movie playing well mostly to the movie. Eddie's attention did try to stick to the screen but it often shifted to the girl sitting beside him. wondering how the hell he wasn't a puddle in the chair or if the beating of his heart was audible given how fast it was , was he sweating cause sure as hell felt like it . He watched the light of tv shine on her face, her relaxed state or... shit she grabbed his hand , why was he short circuiting over a girl grabbing his hand . 

" Sorry that part always make me jump" she whispered soft laugh spilling from her pillow plump lips , he could of sworn he saw a blush on her face but wasn't sure giving the limited light .

" if you need to grab it again feel free too" he whispered back smiling so wide showing off his dimples .

" thank you munson" now he was hoping more parts would make her jump . her hand in his throughout the movie it turned out his campaign wasn't the highlight of this Friday after all.

Once the movie ended Dustin hit the lights making them all groan at the sudden intrusive brightness . except the light snores filled out the room making them all turn to see the older henderson and eddie passed out cold her head on his shoulder and his hand holding hers .

 " Awhh that's so cute" Robin cooed, hiding her amusement.

" Damn it, I was gonna ask her out " Gareth growled, making everyone turn to the boy . " I said that out loud huh?" he stood rubbing the back of his neck .

 " Very loud," Steve snorted . "Come on i can drop you guys home" he stretched as the all looked at him wide eyed.

" Seriously "king"Steve Harrington is going to let us be seen with him" Jeff almost gasped out.

" yeah yeah dont cream your pants , come let them sleep" he ushered the gang of still shocked boys out the door. Only for Dustin to slam it shut behind them waking the two .

 "Where is everyone?" she asked, confused.

" yeah i remembered more people being here" Eddie rubbed his eyes . 

" Steve's dropping them home since you two were all cuddled up in sleepland" . 

"Shit i'll go clean up and head out before your mom comes home '' Eddie yawned and stretched ready to head back down to the basement . 

"Just stay, she's not home till Sunday," Dustin yelled, heading down to his own room . 

" If you want to, I mean we can watch another movie," she smiled nervously was he making her uncomfortable or was it something else.

" Yeah i could totally stay, I got some clothes in my van , let me grab them" he beamed with excitement.

" I'm going for a smoke so i'll come out with you" she grabbed her shoes and jacket pulling out the carton of cigarettes and lighter . 

" Lead the way princess" he opened the door letting her walk out first. The night's crisp air hitting them , she stood on the porch as he ran down grabbing the backpack out of his van given his original plan was to sleep at jeff's for the night so wayne could have a night's sleep in his room for once. When he looked back to see she was sitting on what he called the outdoor sofa to rile Dustin up, her eyes looking up at the sky lost in the stars above even then she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen . The slow exhale of smoke and she turned to smile at his approaching figure .

 " You cold, i can give you my jacket" he was already going to take it off pulling out his own cigarettes.

" no it's not too chilly tonight ,it actually a nice night" she mused moving so he could sit beside her.

"So Dustin mentioned you went to a different school. How come" he asked, wanting to know everything and anything about the woman sitting beside him . 

" You don't remember me huh?" she asked, confusing him completely.

" we actually went to the same school til i'd say middle school i changed schools because tommy hagan kinda made my life hell so my mom moved me to a different school since the principle wouldn't do anything about it , i was fat kid with curly ass hair , he called me sparky cause of this'' She shrugged the jacket showing the lightning bolt scar on her arm Making him remember completely who she was.

" shit yeah i remember, i also remember you punching him when he picked on other kids" he mused.

" another reason i had to move schools, the irony of letting myself being their victim and yet seeing ready when i seen them torment someone else " she snorted, tapping the ash of her cigarette . 

" Shit i would've never pictured you and Dustin to be siblings," he chuckled.

" Well back then my parents were still married and I wasn't always Henderson" She pointed out.

" Well that also checks out, still i've always thought that scar was metal , how you get it?" . 

"Wasn't struck by lightning sadly that would of been cooler no i burned it trying to make my own shield" she giggled. "

That's still metal in my books" he chuckled. 

" I guess your right I mean my mom didn't think so in the ER but hey it was good shield think it's still in the garage" throwing the cigarette away , sneaking a quick glance at the most adorable and probably hottest guy she ever met sitting beside her .

" you in college now or ? " he asked .

" yeah just an hour drive away, studying nursing what about you ? " she turned. Her eyes made him completely weak at the knee's .

" apprentice mechanic " she noticed how his smiled didn't quite reach his eyes when he said it .

" well if you ever get hurt on the job call me, I'll come nurse you back to heath " she nudging him playfully there it was a real smile on his pretty face.

" come on we head in or I'll be the nurse when you catch some flu or cold being out here " he stood holding his hand out to help her up .

" wanna was nightmare on elm Street" she asked.

" of course and if you get scared you can hold my hand " he winked as they walked into the house.

" I mean it is scary movie dare I say even terrifying you might get sick of me holding your hand" she teased heading to the other side of the room to grab the tape and a blanket .

" never would I do such a thing " he held his hand over his heart those damn dimples that made her heart skip a beat or the glint of the rings as he held his hand over his heart.

" could you put the movie in , I'll grab the snacks and some drinks " she scurried of the kitchen . Putting the movie on pause before he called to say he was putting some pyjamas on before it got started .

When he came in she had snacks pile on top of each other along with the soda . He could of sworn he caught her checking him out but brushing it off instantly.

" ready" she lifted the blanket up for him to join .

" born ready darling " he hit the lights as the second movie of the night started playing he suddenly felt the,warmth of her palm in his . " just incase I get to scared " she winked now he was one who was grateful for lack of lights cause he was sure he was beet red now.

" better safe the sorry " he whispered his voice almost cracking in the nervous manner of possibly the hottest most beautiful girl he'd met holding his hand ... his goddamned hand . the two say eyes locked on screen itching to look at the person at their side . She inched her way closer as the movie played when jumpscare came on she couldn't help bury her head In his chest . The smell of his cologne and cigarette filled her sense as she felt the vibrations of his laugh as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'll keep you safe princess " she could feel the almost cocky grin in his words feeling her little plan worked .

" thank you eddie my hero " she cooed looking up through her lashes making his gulp audibly leaning up and a peck to his lips, he was sure to die in his spot . A victory smile she kept her head on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her , she could hear the now steady beating of his heart as he gotten comfortable in the new position his hand rubbing up and down her back . Wasn't long til the two got way to comfortable and feel asleep in each others arms to content to even care .

[pankowcrumbs]

Premier X Joseph Quinn

MasterList

Joseph Quinn Masterlist

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

The flashing lights were relentless.

I’d been to a few red carpets before mostly for work, usually lowkey but nothing like this. This was Warfare. One of the most anticipated war dramas of the year. Joe’s biggest film to date. And I was here… not for work. Not on the sidelines. I was here with him.

I adjusted the silky fabric of my dress, trying to keep a natural smile on my face as the photographers shouted Joe’s name over and over again. His hand tightened gently around mine.

“You alright?” he leaned in and murmured near my ear.

I nodded, eyes scanning the crowd. “Just… a bit overwhelming.”

His brows creased instantly. “You sure? We can go slower. Or step aside for a bit.”

Bless him. I hadn’t realised how tightly he was gripping my hand until I tried to flex my fingers.

“I’m okay,” I said, giving him a smile. “I’m just not used to this many cameras.”

Joe turned toward me slightly, using his frame to shield me from the majority of the chaos as he whispered, “You look bloody perfect, by the way. Proper showstopper.”

That made me grin. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smiled bashfully and pressed a kiss to the side of my temple. The cameras definitely caught that.

“Joe, over here!” someone shouted. “With the missus!”

He chuckled under his breath. “Think they’ve already decided we’re married.”

“You mean we’re not?” I teased.

He turned to look at me, eyes twinkling. “Don’t tempt me, darling.”

Before I could reply, a security man gestured for us to move further down the carpet. Joe kept a hand on the small of my back, guiding me gently, constantly checking that I was alright. Every few metres, a flash would go off right in my face, and I’d blink against it, trying not to look startled.

At one point, a cameraman stepped back without looking straight into me. I stumbled, and before I could even react, Joe’s arm was around me, steadying me.

“Oi!” Joe barked, voice sharper than I’d ever heard. “Watch where you’re bloody going!”

The man turned, looking sheepish.

“She alright?” someone asked.

“She will be,” Joe snapped, pulling me in close. “Jesus she’s not a prop, lads. Give her some bloody space.”

The crowd quietened for a beat. Joe’s eyes scanned me with concern.

“You okay, love?” he asked again, softer now, hands on my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Really. Just a bit shaken.”

He looked like he wanted to murder someone.

“I told you we could’ve stayed in bed,” he muttered, thumb brushing under my jaw. “Could’ve watched the premiere from the telly. I don’t give a toss about the photos.”

“You’ve worked too hard on this film,” I said. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

His expression softened. “You’re mad.”

“You love it.”

“I really do,” he murmured, then pressed another kiss to my cheek, possessive and tender all at once.

Once we got through the main gauntlet of flashing lights and shouting, we were ushered into the press section. He did a few interviews, holding my hand between questions. I mostly stood to the side, offering him smiles when he glanced over, which was… often. It made the nerves flutter in my stomach, the way he’d reach for me without thinking, like he needed me nearby.

Eventually, a voice called out, “Joe! The lads are waiting for you by the main theatre entrance!”

He turned to me, smiling wide now. “C’mon. You’ve got to meet the boys.”

“Think they’ll like me?”

“Oh, they’ll bloody adore you,” he said confidently. “Mainly ‘cause I’ve done nothing but talk about you.”

I laughed, but my cheeks were burning. “You have not.”

“You’ll see,” he said, leading me toward the inner part of the venue.

The other Warfare cast members were grouped together, all laughing and sipping from flutes of champagne. When they spotted Joe, a cheer went up.

“Quinn!” shouted one of them Charles, I recognised him from the trailers. “There he is! And this must be the elusive Y/N!”

I was immediately wrapped in a bear hug.

“Oh my God hello!” I laughed, barely able to breathe.

“Mate, he’s always talking about you,” said another, who I realised was Will, the guy who played Joe’s closest mate in the film. “We feel like we know you already. It’s actually a bit mental.”

“Obsessed, honestly,” chimed in another. “Won’t shut up.”

Joe groaned. “Alright, alright she’s here now, isn’t she?”

Kit grinned. “We’ve got to make sure she’s real!”

“I am real,” I said, laughing. “Unless you’re all hallucinating me.”

Charles gave me another side hug. “You’re brilliant. You’ve kept him grounded, haven’t you?”

Will nodded. “We’ve never seen him like this. Man’s all soft now. Smiles at his phone like he’s sixteen.”

Joe just rolled his eyes, cheeks pink. “Glad you lot are getting it out of your system now.”

I tucked myself under Joe’s arm, half out of affection and half because I could feel another crowd of cameras gathering.

“Right,” Joe said, addressing them all, “we’ve got to sit down soon, but be nice, yeah?”

“Joe,” I said, nudging him.

He looked down at me and gave me a smile that just melted me completely. “I know, darling.”

Another photographer leaned in a bit too close again, camera inches from my face. I instinctively took a step back, bumping into Joe’s side. His arm came up instantly, blocking the lens.

“Back up a bit, yeah?” he said to the guy, voice low but firm. “No need to get in her face.”

“Let them get their photos,” I whispered, tugging gently at his sleeve.

“Not when they’re shoving lenses at you,” he muttered, glaring.

The others watched him with amused expressions.

“Told you,” Will said to Kit. “Soft and protective.”

Joe scowled at them but still held me close.

After a few more minutes, we were ushered inside for the screening. Joe kept a hand on my back the entire time we moved through the crowd, whispering in my ear, “Step here… watch your foot… you okay, love?”

It was honestly adorable. And slightly hilarious given that I’d managed fine on my own for years before him.

Inside the theatre, the lights dimmed and the movie began. Joe held my hand the entire time. At one point, I glanced at him during an especially intense scene, and I could see him watching me, waiting for my reaction. His thumb brushed the back of my hand when the screen faded to black.

When the credits rolled, the audience burst into applause.

I turned to him, eyes wide. “Joe, that was… incredible.”

He looked slightly stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe it was over. “Yeah?”

“You were phenomenal. I’m so proud of you.”

He swallowed hard, squeezing my hand. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You were the one on screen, Joe.”

“Yeah, but you were the one who held me after 14-hour days. And kept my feet on the ground when I was spiralling.”

My heart swelled.

We stood to leave, and as we made our way out, someone called his name again for a post-screening interview. He glanced at me, clearly torn.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll wait by the bar.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He kissed my forehead and murmured, “Back in a sec, love.”

I watched him walk off, handsome in his dark suit, chatting easily, answering questions with grace. But his eyes kept flicking back to find me.

After the interview, he made a beeline for me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve had enough fame for one night.”

“Thought you loved it,” I teased.

He nuzzled closer. “I love you. Everything else is noise.”

We slipped out the side exit with help from security. Joe pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tucking into his side as the night air chilled my skin.

“For what?” he asked.

“For being you.”

He smiled and opened the car door for me, helping me in like the total gentleman he always was.

As we drove off, I looked over at him, the city lights glowing on his face.

“You know,” I said softly, “you were kind of a hero in that film.”

“Acting,” he said with a wink. “Smoke and mirrors.”

“But out there… when that guy bumped into me? You were real then.”

He paused. Then reached for my hand. “I’ll always be real with you.”

[djotummy]

PEOPLE DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

How I sleep at night knowing that every time a new Joseph Quinn project comes out, at least one of you hoes will photoshop Eddie’s hair onto pictures from it:

[josephqxeddiem]

Have you seen Johnny Storm?

[kassy-djomunson]

i need these four to become besties or i’ll sue

[whatsupsonnyboy]

Drunk in my mind | Joseph Quinn

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Joe and you (actress!reader) met during the filming of a romantic thriller, you two struggle to keep your undeniable chemistry professional. But when intimate scenes push your limits, the line between acting and reality begins to blur.

wc: 5.9K

warning: fluff, slow burn, co-stars to friends, friends to lovers, mentions of sex, swearing, overthinking, angst

a/n: heeeeeey, i know it's been ages, so sorry, but you know how life could be! anyway, i recently got lot of free time so i decided to pick up writing this precious man. This one just got on my mind while listening a podcast, originally it was going to be a one shot... looks like it's gonna be more parts to this! Hope you enjoy it 😌

Feedback is welcomed <3

request are open  | masterlist

part I | part II | part III

He was feeling really excited about the whole thing. The whole project was kind of a dream if he was honest, the story was captivating, the arc of his character was interesting and challenging and the chance to work with Mark as a director was more than anything he could have dreamt of. He felt like the whole universe was playing on his favour, as if it was saying “hey, here you have, you deserve it”, and that could only make him feel grateful and lucky. 

He had known since the very first moment he accepted the role who his co-star was going to be. He remembered how worked up he felt—the incredible chance to work with such a talented and young actress, someone with that kind of range. It was exciting, a little intimidating even. The thought of it made his heart race a bit. So when the two of you finally met, he couldn’t help but like you instantly.

And he had noticed that you liked him too. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, something neither of you had tried to hide. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though there was plenty of that. No, it was something deeper, a connection that he couldn’t quite put into words. There was an admiration there, something rooted in the way you thought, how you carried yourself, your mind… it fascinated him. And he felt that same spark from you, even if neither of you dared to acknowledge it fully. In an environment like that—so close, yet so professional—it was delicate. Neither of you wanted to be the first to cross a line that could jeopardize everything.

The first few days of filming were a blur of getting to know each other on screen, but it didn’t take long before it was clear you two clicked on a deeper level. Not even two weeks into the filming, and you had found yourselves spending almost all your breaks together. The quiet moments during meals, those late-night chats after a long day of work, felt like they meant something more than just passing time. You'd wander around the city on free days, both of you enjoying the shared silence between laughter and conversations that didn’t always make sense, but that somehow felt significant.

Joe would sometimes catch himself watching you when you weren’t looking, studying the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He’d love to listen to you for hours, about everything and nothing, and that feeling of connection lingered in the air between you. The way you made him feel heard, understood… it was rare. And judging by the way your gaze would linger on him, he could tell you felt the same.

But there was always that unspoken tension—the fragile balance between admiration and attraction, and the fear that crossing that line would change everything. Especially there, in that professional environment, where neither of you could afford to lose focus.

The more time he spent with you, the more he liked you. He found himself continually impressed by the way you worked—the passion you poured into every scene, the incredible talent you demonstrated even in the smallest moments. It wasn’t just your skill; it was your intensity, your energy, the way you approached everything with such genuine depth that it left him captivated. He couldn’t recall ever feeling that way about anyone else. Sure, he had admired colleagues before—he could still remember how stunned he had felt working with Denzel back in Gladiator, or the first time he shared a scene with Lupita. But none of that compared to what he felt now. This was something different, something unexplainable. And it was delightful. Getting to do a romance thriller for the first time while working with someone like you made everything feel effortless.

He found himself looking forward to every scene with you, not just because of the professional challenge but because of how naturally the two of you clicked. You seemed to challenge him in the best way, pushing him to reach new emotional depths, yet there was always this lightness between you both that made working together seem easy.

He had even forgotten about the sex scenes —the very thing that had made him hesitate when he first agreed to the movie. He had done intimate scenes before, of course, but this was different. When he had read the script, he had known it would be a whole new level of vulnerability. But as the filming drew closer, it felt almost like an inevitable tension was building between you two. It wasn’t just physical; it was mental, emotional, a strange but undeniable connection he couldn’t quite put into words.

Edith, the intimacy coordinator, had talked to both of you, together and separately, several times already. At first, it had made him feel calm, safe, almost like everything was under control. But the more time he spent with you, the more that sense of control started to slip away.

The idea of the two of you being semi-naked on a bed, pretending to have sex, sent a shiver down his spine. Not a bad one, not a good one either. No, it was something far more complicated. It felt… unprofessional, and yet it was so much more than that. The goosebumps that had run through him when you kissed him during the first take a few days ago… they had lingered. The memory of that kiss wasn’t just physical; it had settled deep in his stomach, making him question everything. And the worst part? He was afraid to be the only one who felt it.

He couldn’t let this happen. He liked you, of course… as an actress, as a co-worker, as a friend even. But that was all, right? He couldn't allow his body to suddenly want you in a way that went beyond professional respect. Oh God, he was feeling ridiculous. He was supposed to be a professional, and that’s how it had to stay. But how the hell was he supposed to act casual about you being above him, with nothing but a thin piece of cloth separating your bodies? Your breasts close to his face as your eyes locked with his, looking at him as if he was the only man in the world. How was he supposed to resist that?

He could certainly tell the difference between reality and acting. But how was he supposed to teach his body that distinction? The worst part was the guilt. Guilt because of how unprofessional he felt. Guilt because he had let this go so far without acknowledging what was happening inside of him. It had been so easy to let his guard down around you. He had felt so comfortable with you from the start, so at ease in your presence, that he hadn’t even stopped to question his own feelings. Now it felt like he’d jumped into this situation without looking at the consequences.

But now it was too late to undo those feelings. The scenes were scheduled to start early next week, and he had no idea how to handle this newfound tension between you. How was he supposed to manage those feelings—this raw attraction—within the next two days? He didn’t know if he could control it. Production had given the entire crew the weekend off, and he was left with two options: spend the weekend with you, in town, facing the intensity of his growing feelings, or retreat to London and try to pretend none of it existed.

He could already feel how difficult it would be to run away from this. Because it somehow felt like he was running, but taking a little space felt like the best, he could still book a flight, go back home and try to clear his head. Joe wasn’t sure that it would work, but at least he had to give it a try. 

It wasn’t something weird of you to appear out of nowhere in his hotel room with a pretty nice plan that would immediately convince him to get out of the hotel. But that night he was going to force himself to do things right. 

“What do you mean you can't?” you asked in a laugh. 

Joe tried to stop you at the door, but it was worthless. He couldn’t even articulate a word at the look you gave him as you made your way in his room. 

“You leaving?” you asked then. “Where you off to?” 

You looked at the carry-on luggage on the bed. All what he needed for a weekend out was already packed. 

“Home” Joe simply answered and the inquiring look in your eyes made him go on. “I thought it’d be nice to see my mum and friends”. 

“Oh, I see”.

You seemed disappointed, and Joe felt like there was something else you wanted to say so he remained silent. 

You didn't. 

“I’ll be here on Sunday night”.

Why had he said that? It felt like he was explaining himself, he needn’t, you hadn’t asked for it either. 

“Have a good weekend Joe” you said, with fake sympathy and left the room afterwards.

He couldn’t explain how awful he felt the moment he heard the door closing, or even why he was feeling that way. But he was not going to stay and figure it out, he would let that to Monday Joe. 

-

You couldn’t understand a single thing. It was nonsense. One day he would treat you like you were the most beautiful and fascinating creature in the entire planet, the next, he would run back to London without a single explanation. Not that he owed you one, because you two were nothing but co-workers. Explanations were for people who were romantically involved, weren’t they? And Joe and you were nothing like that. 

Because spending every single moment of your free time with him didn’t mean you felt anything for each other. It just meant, you liked each other, as co-workers. You just enjoyed each other's company in a job environment full of unknown people. 

It was nice to have him around. Somehow, it made you feel like you were just hanging out with someone you hadn’t seen in a while, as if your paths had crossed before, in another time, another place. Talking to him about anything felt effortless, like catching up with an old friend, which was a rare gift. He had that gift.

You had heard the rumors, of course you had. Almost everyone who had come across Joseph Quinn always used the same words: “nicest of the guys,” “damn funny,” “witty sense of humor,” and “incredibly sensitive.” And all of them were spot on. But it was more than that. You couldn’t help but admire how much he made you feel seen, how, despite the attention and praise that followed him, he managed to make you feel like you were the only one in the room when you spoke.

At first, you were simply delighted by how everything had aligned so perfectly. The chance to film a movie with Mark, one of the most promising directors in the current industry, was already a dream come true. And then there was Joseph Quinn, the charming, talented British actor whose reputation had already preceded him. From the very beginning, everything was going better than expected. Mark’s direction was an experience in itself—eccentric and demanding, but exciting and fulfilling all the same. But Joe… Joe was everything you could’ve dreamed of and more.

From the moment Heather, the casting director, introduced you to him, you felt a spark. That dreamy look in his eyes, the sunglasses perched atop his head, holding back the honey curls that were starting to grow long again, and that stupid, adorable accent that made your heart skip a beat. He was effortlessly charming, but it wasn’t just his looks or the humor he carried so naturally; it was the way he made you feel at ease, the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, listening to you as if your thoughts were as valuable as his own.

You could clearly remember the way your stomach flipped the first time he asked you how you were feeling after the first day of shooting. You had felt terrible, after a night of no sleep. Leaving home for a long time was always kind of torturous, especially when it meant sleeping in a bed that wasn’t yours. Such a small, silly thing, yet it had made everything feel off.

But you were sure your lack of sleep and the consequent irritability had gone unnoticed. Or at least you had thought so, until Joe insisted that something was wrong. You hadn’t expected him to notice —especially not so early, not after just one day of filming. But he had, and the way he looked at you, like he really cared, made you feel like you owed him a little real kindness in return. After all, he was the only one who’d truly seen through your facade, despite all your efforts to hide how miserable you were feeling that day.

You two had ended up in his room, ordering the fanciest food you could find on the service menu, and watching the first Netflix blockbuster you both could find on the smart TV. There was something calming about it.

You had fallen asleep quickly, almost immediately after a few spoonfuls of the seafood rice Joe had ordered. The need for rest was bigger than your hunger. And strangely, falling asleep in Joe’s bed had been incredibly easy, a stark contrast to the nightmare it had been to even try to fall asleep in your own room the night before. Maybe it was just exhaustion, maybe your body was begging for rest—maybe it was the warmth and scent of him next to you that made it feel like you were safe, like you weren’t alone in this strange place.

You remembered waking up to the sound of Joe’s alarm blaring, and the embarrassment quickly rushed through your body as you realized you had fallen asleep in the bed of a stranger who also happened to be your co-star. It felt like the worst possible thing in the world at that moment, but Joe didn’t seem to care at all. He emerged from the other side of the room, where there was a sofa-bed, and you realized he must have let you sleep alone while he stayed there, keeping his distance. His smile when he looked at you was warm and soft, the kind of smile that made you feel... something you couldn’t quite name. He asked if you had a good night, and you could only nod, still blushing a little, but now, with a hint of warmth spreading in your chest.

However, the night he disappeared you weren’t feeling delighted at all. You had almost felt abandoned. Absurd, you knew, but couldn’t help it. And that really pissed you off. Because you didn’t even have the right to feel like that. Joe was just your co-star, your almost friend maybe. So all the rage and the frustration were useless. 

You didn’t want to waste more time feeling like that, and you knew that if you stayed at the hotel the whole weekend, it would turn into endless hours of overthinking. So you fixed yourself internally, as if you had just gotten up from a fall and texted Sam. 

She was one of the supporting actors in the films, and she was really nice and fun. She loved being out so it meant you’d probably get no rest for the next 48 hours, but that was better than to go over and over the same thoughts in the loneliness of your hotel room. Alcohol and loud music seemed like a better choice.  

-

It hadn’t worked. He knew it the moment he was back to the filming location, he probably had known a long before he entered his hotel room, but opening the door of the suite made it land hard on his chest. There was that feeling all again, as it had never left, just had gone undercovered for a few hours. The terrible urge to go running to your room and kiss you, hold you, run his fingers through your hair as you rested your head on his chest. 

He was done. He was finished. All the repressed feelings and unsaid words were pressing on his chest like a ton of rocks, making it hard to think, to breathe. It was like the world had shrunk, and all that mattered was this impossible attraction, this desperate need to be near you. He couldn’t even remember feeling this helpless about anyone before. It was almost unbearable. 

He hadn’t said a word about it back home, maybe he should have talked about it with a friend, could have helped… but he had been so determined to be distracted about the whole thing, that going over the matter hadn’t really been an option. It had probably been a childish choice, but regretting it then, in the loneliness of his hotel room, within a few hours to go and face reality, was pointless. 

Someone was knocking the door just a couple hours after he had finally been able to fall asleep. Getting to sleep decently had turned into an impossible mission with hundreds of intrusive thoughts constantly hunting his mind. And now, he would not only feel miserable, he would look like it too. Edith instantly pointed it out the moment he opened the door. Not helping at all. 

She was there to talk to him before getting to the set, Joe knew she was going to be there, he also knew he was going to talk to you after. Another talk for you two was awaiting the moment before entering the set. So he kind of knew he could still do something… maybe he could talk about how not exactly comfortable he was feeling about the sex scenes, but how was he supposed to do that. First, those scenes weren’t exactly the problem. Second, then what? What was he expecting to happen? 

Joe ran again through every single fake scenario that had haunted him for the last weeks while he was showering and getting ready. Edith was waiting in the living area of the suite, and as soon as he heard Joe out of the bathroom she started with the questions. 

“How was your weekend off?” she politely asked.

“Mm, great” he simply replied. He knew the small talk was her way of not jumping straight into asking about being ready to get naked in front of a camera. “How about you? You get some rest?”. He asked, trying to not be a dick with her. 

Edith explained how she hadn’t fully taken the days off, though she’d rested a bit. She spent most of the time working on the shooting protocol and handling some logistics. She told Joe they were aiming to wrap up everything in one day, two at most. She mentioned details about the environment—how she’d been adamant about lighting, the silence during the shoot, and limiting the crew in the room.

Despite knowing she was saying all those things to make it look like a friendlier scenario, it just had the opposite effect on Joe. When he entered the room Edith was in, she didn’t even try to hide the concern in her face at Joe’s appearance. 

“Are you feeling alright, Joe? If you feel sick or something we could talk to Mark and postpone everything”. Her tone was soft, and for a second Joe really thought about it. 

He could play sick. He could try to slip out of the situation for at least two or three more days… maybe he could fix his mind. Try to put in order some thoughts and see things in a different way. But that wouldn’t work unless he talked to you about it. That was what he had to do. Confront his feelings about you and explain how fucking nervous, no. How fucking sick it made him the idea of getting an erection in the middle of filming, and how violent it would be for you and for him, and for everyone in the damn room. Maybe you would be comprehensive. Maybe you would even laugh about it. Or maybe you would think that Joe was a complete idiot, an unprofessional guy who couldn’t take control of his own body for a few hours. 

“No”. He hissed, almost unconsciously. “No, I… just need to eat something” he lied. “I’m fine”. 

Edith raised an eyebrow, skeptical. It was like she could hear every word of his internal struggle. She pressed on, asking if something was worrying him. Joe shook his head, offering no further explanation. She didn’t want to push, but he could feel her concern. She then mentioned she’d be there for the whole shoot, that he could ask her for anything he needed to feel more comfortable. She even casually suggested a jockstrap if that was something he was worried about.

Before leaving Joe’s room he specifically mentioned how she knew that these scenes could be stressful, and sometimes even awkward, but that he could totally trust her about anything he didn’t really feel like doing. He also told Joe that lots of actors have a hard time about getting unwanted erections, but that was something really natural, because despite him being an actor, his body didn’t necessarily acknowledge that. She concluded by assuring him that everything was going to work just fine and left Joe to go to your room. 

Joe didn’t really know how to feel about that information, it somehow made him feel better and at the same time made him more anxious to become one of those actors she was talking about. 

-

Saying Joe looked terrible was an understatement. He looked sick, pale, distant. You’d tried asking him, but he responded with nothing more than a monosyllabic grunt, eyes averted. The coldness, the avoidance— it rattled you. What had changed? Why was he acting like this now?

First, the sudden withdrawal, and now, the silent treatment. It made no sense. Especially now, when you were on the verge of exposing yourself in front of him. It made the whole situation even more uncomfortable. You needed this to be over, more than ever.

Edith offered a few more directions, calming words, and encouragement before the two of you stepped onto the set. The space was intimate: Edith, Mark, a few techs, Laura and Henry —just the essentials. The air buzzed with anticipation, but it didn’t throw you off. You’d done this before. You’d been through much more explicit scenes. And Mark and Edith had been nothing but professional and supportive, so the only thing that made you nervous was Joe.

Neither of you exchanged a word while Mark ran through the sequence, explaining the shots and movements. You nodded in unison, your eyes never meeting his.

Minutes later, you were pinned against the wall, Joe above you, his body hovering just an inch from yours, his hands firm but cold—one gripping your arm, the other on your hip. His touch felt distant, almost mechanical, and when your eyes met his, you caught a flash of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness? Anxiety? But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

You both stood silent as Mark called “ACTION.” Joe delivered his lines. You laughed on cue, and then he leaned in for the kiss. This time, his lips found yours with such intensity, it startled you —a hungry, almost desperate kiss that stirred something deep within your stomach. You didn’t have to fake it. The chemistry was still there, you could feel it, even if you both had to keep up appearances for the crew.

But the more you kissed, the more strained his body became. His hands were tense. The roughness in his touch grew harder, sharper. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like how he used to kiss you, with that mix of admiration and passion. It was stiff, forced. Something was off.

The rest of the scene went downhill. Joe seemed to withdraw further as the shots progressed. His body, rigid as a board, betrayed every word he spoke. The tension was palpable. When it came time for the bed scene, the air felt suffocating.

You straddled him, your torso barely covered by the robe. His gaze never left your body, but his eyes held no warmth, no connection. Instead, they were guarded, cold. As you lowered yourself onto him, he swallowed hard, his whole body stiffening beneath yours.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. His discomfort was suffocating.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, despite the growing unease.

He nodded, a faint, bitter look crossing his face before he turned his gaze away from you.

Before you could speak again, Mark gave the signal to get into character. The cameras rolled, and you tried to keep your focus. But God, it was so painfully obvious.

You shed your robe, and when Joe let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, the silence in the room felt deafening. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The whole scene felt like it was falling apart.

You repeated your lines, but Joe’s response was hollow, distant. He ran a hand over his face, visibly frustrated, but still unwilling to acknowledge what was happening.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, his voice low but lacking conviction. "Let’s start over, I—I wasn’t ready. My bad.”

You did it again, hoping that maybe, this time, things would fall into place. But when you leaned in for the kiss, he was stiff—his lips barely responding, his movements robotic. The chemistry was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable stiffness that everyone in the room could sense.

Mark stopped the scene, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on? This is not the energy we’ve had for weeks. Where’s the chemistry?" His voice cut through the tension like a knife.

You both stood there, silent, trying to navigate the gap that had appeared between you, both of you utterly confused by the growing chasm between your previous connection and the awkwardness that now stood between you.

You tried again, but after a couple of failed attempts, the scene became more and more artificial. Joe’s responses were mechanical, his body unyielding, the chemistry as absent as it had ever been. Mark, now visibly frustrated, demanded answers, but neither of you had any to give.

By the sixth attempt, Joe couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved you aside, freed himself from your hold, and pulled his robe around his body. His face was twisted in anger, his frustration spilling over as he muttered under his breath.

"This is ridiculous," he spat, walking away, leaving you and the crew behind, still trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

Mark instantly followed Joe out of the set, maybe to try to talk to him or to calm him down, but it was clear that something had broken. Everyone in the room fell silent, watching as Joe stormed out. It was like the tension in the air was a living thing, pressing down on everyone. You felt paralyzed for a moment, unsure of how to react. He wasn’t like this at all. You had never seen Joe like this—nervous, frustrated, and overwhelmed. It was as though he had completely closed off from you, and you couldn’t understand why.

You stood there, holding your robe, feeling utterly exposed in every way. It wasn’t just the physical vulnerability of the scene—it was emotional too. Joe’s behavior had sent a confusing signal, and suddenly the chemistry that had felt so natural seemed impossible to grasp.

Edith was quick to approach you. “Take five,” she said softly, gesturing towards the corner of the set. “We’ll give him some space. Let’s reset.”

You nodded silently, walking away from the set as the crew murmured among themselves. They were all so professional, but you could tell they were uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the awkwardness of the scene anymore—it was Joe, and the way he was falling apart in front of everyone.

You found yourself in the small lounge area, sitting down, trying to breathe through the confusion. What had happened? What was wrong with Joe?

It wasn’t long before Edith came over to sit beside you. “You okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

You wanted to tell her that you were fine. You weren’t. But you didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

“Do you think he’s okay?” You finally asked, your voice tight. “I mean… is he...?”

Edith hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said gently. “He’s been off the whole morning. He seemed like he was pushing something down, but I didn’t want to pry.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up again. This whole situation felt so... off. Everything was supposed to be smooth. The chemistry, the camaraderie, the work—it had all been seamless until now. And now, it was like a wall had gone up between you and Joe, and you had no idea how to break it down.

“We’ll talk to him,” Edith said, after a moment. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Just try to take a break. Don’t overthink it.”

You nodded, but your mind raced. It didn’t make sense. What was going on with Joe? Why couldn’t he just talk to you?

After a few minutes, Mark came in, looking more serious than ever. “We’ll have to reschedule for tomorrow,” he said, eyes scanning the room. “Take a break, everyone. I’ll talk to Joe, and we’ll figure out where we go from here. I don’t want to push this.”

With that, the set slowly emptied, leaving you alone in the quiet of the lounge. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something was wrong, and you had no idea how to fix it.

On the way back to the hotel Edtih tried to talk to you again but you weren’t feeling like it, so you politely refused and went to your room alone. You needed to rest for real. You needed a shower and to hide under your bed until it was 2026. You were feeling ridiculous, exposed, frustrated… you were not even sure why you were feeling like that, no one, not even Joe said that any of it had been your fault, but yet you were feeling responsible. 

And that overwhelming feeling made you more upset if it was possible, because it was truly unfair. You were not irrational though, you knew you couldn’t blame Joe for the way you felt, but at the same time he had been a dick for the last 72 hours or so… how could you not feel as if you had done something wrong. Maybe you had, you could deal with that, but why wouldn’t he come clean about whatever the hell was upsetting him? 

You couldn’t stand being in your room all alone chewing over the same thoughts, you needed answers, so if Joe wouldn’t be brave enough to talk this out, you were. You put on some jeans and a hoodie and with your hair still wet you left your suite and walked to Joe’s. 

Maybe he wasn’t even there, he should have since he had claimed to not be able to keep up with the shooting. But it didn’t matter, you were determined to talk to him even if you had to wait there for hours. 

He gasped your name when he opened the door, eyes widening in genuine surprise. He didn’t look as bad as he had this morning —but he still wasn’t quite himself.

"We need to talk," you said, but Joe didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

"Joe, seriously."

"I… I wouldn’t even know what to say," he confessed. At least this time, he looked at you.

"Well, I do. So at least you're going to listen."

He didn’t argue. He just stood there, silent, watching as you walked past him into the living area. When he finally followed, he sat on the armchair across from you. Something about that —his distance, his passiveness— made your anger flare.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joseph Quinn." Your voice was sharp, cutting through the silence.

Joe opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"How dare you? What kind of psychopath makes me believe he cares, that he's comfortable with me, that we're friends—only to turn around and act like none of it meant anything? What was it, Joe? Just a game? A fucking joke?"

"I care about you," he whispered, but you weren’t done.

"Oh, you care? Funny, because all I see is someone who’s been acting like a complete asshole for days. And for what? I don’t even fucking know. But you know what I do know? That this —whatever the hell this is— is cruel."

Joe stared at you, his expression unreadable. Not a single word. No excuses. No explanations. It was infuriating.

"And now, you just sit there like you have nothing to say? Nothing about the filming, about this morning, about how I fucking feel?" Your voice was rising, the frustration pushing you past your breaking point. "How could you do that?"

Joe finally stood up, his movements restless, his frustration mirroring yours.

"You want me to talk?"

"Of course I fucking do!"

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room, looking as torn apart as you felt.

"Then you should know—I was never pretending. Never," he shot back, his voice raw. "I do fucking care about you. You're important to me, okay?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "Then act like it."

Joe exhaled sharply. "I don’t know how, alright? I already told you—I don’t know what to say. What do you want from me?"

"The truth, Joe. That’s all I fucking want." Your voice cracked, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t anger driving you. It was exhaustion. Defeat. "I just want you to be honest about what’s wrong with you. With us."

Joe looked away. His silence was worse than any argument.

That was it.

Your chest ached as you turned to leave, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay. Joe said your name in a whisper, but you didn’t stop. He called it again, louder, but you kept walking.

You were almost at the door when you felt his hand wrap around your arm. Firm, but not rough. Desperate.

"Let me go, please," you whispered, voice shaking.

Joe didn’t move.

"Joe, please."

He heard it then—the way your voice broke completely. The way you were crying, whether you wanted to or not.

"Look at me," he begged. "Please."

You couldn’t. Instead, a quiet sob escaped, and your body gave up fighting. That was all Joe needed to pull you in, his arms locking around you. You didn’t resist.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, again and again, his voice breaking as he held you tighter.

You turned in his hold, but instead of meeting his gaze, you buried your face in his chest, hands gripping his shirt. He cradled the back of your head, his touch tender in a way that made it worse.

Because he still wouldn’t say what you needed to hear.

[lazysoulwriter]

after-party. - joseph quinn.

I got a request for joseph! FUCKING ON IT.

----

The night was electric. The after-party was in full swing, everyone celebrating, mingling, laughing. You made your way through the crowd, drink in hand, enjoying the atmosphere. It had been a big event, and people were buzzing with excitement. As you walked past a group of people, you almost bumped into someone. You looked up, quickly realizing it was none other than Joseph Quinn.

"Oops, sorry," you said with a smile, looking up at him.

"No problem," he replied with that familiar grin, his eyes scanning you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re looking amazing tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered a little too long. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension. “Well, congratulations on your award,” you said, a little breathless, your smile widening. “It’s well-deserved.”

“Thank you,” he said with a low chuckle, his voice smooth as silk. “But I think you’re the one who deserves the award for looking so incredible tonight.”

You gave him a teasing glance, feeling a bit more at ease now. “You’re too kind.”

With that, he gave a nod, his eyes never fully leaving you as you moved past him, disappearing into the crowd. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, and you knew you weren’t imagining it. He was watching you—intensely.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur, but every time you looked around, you could catch his gaze. It was subtle, but impossible to ignore. His eyes would lock on yours from across the room, filled with an undeniable hunger, and you felt a pulse of excitement each time your eyes met.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you took a deep breath, trying to shake the feeling of his stare lingering on you. But when you stepped out, there he was again. Joseph stood near the door, looking casual but somehow impossibly magnetic.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” he said with a half-smile, his voice low and inviting as he leaned slightly toward you. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

You couldn’t stop the playful grin that tugged at your lips. “I wasn’t planning to, but I couldn’t resist. You seem... hard to ignore.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. His proximity sent a thrill through you, and it didn’t take long for the chemistry between you two to become undeniable. “You’re hard to ignore too,” he said, his voice dark with intention.

“I... I should get back to the party,” you said, your words coming out in a soft whisper as his hand gently brushed your arm. You weren’t sure what was making your heart race more—his touch or the heat in his eyes.

“No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t need to. Stay with me.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. It was a command wrapped in the gentlest tone. And for some reason, it was exactly what you wanted.

Without another word, you let him guide you away from the bustling party and toward a quieter corner. The music felt distant now, a soft hum, as if the world outside of this moment didn’t exist.

Joseph closed the door behind you, the atmosphere between you thick with anticipation. He moved toward you, the tension palpable as he stood close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. His eyes were locked on yours, and there was no mistaking what he wanted.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he whispered, his voice low and intense, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—hot, urgent, deep. The kiss was everything you’d imagined and more. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You melted into the kiss, your body responding to him instinctively.

Joseph’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a desperate need, while you let your hands roam freely over him. His touch sent waves of pleasure through you, making it hard to think clearly, but all you wanted was more.

The kiss broke for a moment, but only so he could look into your eyes, his breath ragged. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “I need you. I want you to come home with me. Now.”

You didn’t hesitate. The desire between you was electric, undeniable. “Take me there,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you even realized you’d said them.

With a grin that made your pulse race, Joseph grabbed your hand and led you out of the room, his lips never leaving yours as you made your way through the venue. He was taking you to his place, and you knew it was going to be a night neither of you would forget.

----

[lovejosephquinn]

look if any of you weren’t here for these moments then i feel sorry for you, it was the era.

although if you are seeing them for the first time, then honestly i hope you find yourself as giddy as I still am seeing them for the 5000th time.

this right here is a baby.

our chocolate button eyed baby.