#joseph quinn x Y/N

[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

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I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

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@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[michelle-is-writing]

Prom Night, Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1.2k~

Dustin loved hearing Eddie Munson’s stories. He had countless stories about anything and everything, none of which were ever boring. In his mind, Dustin could only hope he’d be as cool as Eddie with his guitar and never ending knowledge over dungeons and dragons one day. Because of his love for the man, Dustin imagined how prom must’ve been for Eddie, and with one question, he got Eddie to recall the entire night.

“How was prom for you?”

Eddie had been putting off anything that involved prom. He didn’t even care to look at suits or ties as he had already decided he wasn’t going to go. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and the girl whom he wanted to go to prom with was way out of his league, according to him. She was his best friend, and everyone knew that, but they also saw the longing look he had in his eyes every time he looked at her. Eddie felt like he loved her like no other - but how could he tell her that?

The day of the prom, most of the girls were absent toward the end of the day as they were all allowed to leave early to get ready. However, there was one girl Eddie was surprised to see still at the school. As much as he loved spending time with her, he questioned her as to why she was still there and not using the time the school had surprisingly allowed them.

“Why not?” She retorted, leaning back in her chair with a small shrug. “No one asked me, so why bother.”

Her words made his eyebrows quickly go down in confusion. How could no one have asked her out?

Instead of asking her exactly that, he sat back in his chair. “I’m not going either,” he sheepishly admitted, rubbing a hand against his arm as he bit his lip nervously. In his head, he pondered if he should just ignore his hesitation and worry, and just go for it? He always tiptoed around letting (Y/n) know about his true feelings for her, but there would be no tiptoeing now.

“Hey,” her voice broke him away from his anxious thoughts, causing his head to snap to hers. Immediately, his eyes were locked on how pretty she looked at that moment, making his mouth move before his thoughts.

“Yes, pretty girl?” Eddie asked her, making her cheeks turn to a deeper red as her lips unfolded into a huge smile. He had never called her that before, but she liked it - she liked it a lot.

“Why don’t we go to the prom tonight? And see all the moron football players try to bust a move to Madonna,” (Y/n) suggested to Eddie, making him laugh loudly in the school’s library they were sat in. No one was around to care though, and (Y/n) certainly wasn’t going to complain about Eddie.

“I would love that.”

Eddie’s response to her invitation to prom would leave a forever lasting mark on their relationship, a good mark though. Before picking her up, Eddie sat in his van, clad in an old suit of his uncle's while anxious thoughts raced through his head. "A beautiful girl going out with the weirdo, what could go wrong?" he questioned himself, the worries of other people's reactions to seeing them together flashing through his mind.

However, once he arrived to her home and went inside (with a hastily made-corsage he put together with a rose and couple strands of baby's breath, no less), all of his fears and worries simply disappeared after seeing her in the (f/c) dress she wore that night. Sure, Eddie had seen her dressed up a few times for picture day at school, but this was a sight he never witnessed before. Her hair was pinned and curled, her dress looked perfect, she wore makeup that only enhanced her features, but most of all, Eddie couldn't look away from the bright smile she had while staring back at him. In that moment he knew he would never regret his decision.

“I wasn’t going to go,” Eddie explained to Dustin, leaning his head back against the chair with a small huff. “I was very anti-prom since I couldn’t grow a pair and ask a certain pretty girl out,” he further added, a smirk curling at his lips as memories of him and his beloved before they started dating flashed through his head.

“What pretty girl was that?” Dustin asked, making Eddie throw his head back in dramatics and roll his eyes. However, just as he did that, his brown orbs caught sight of the woman he loved walking toward him. Taking the opportunity laid out before him, Eddie quickly leaned up from his slouching position before throwing his arms around (Y/n) as she came up beside his chair and pulling her to sit sideways on his lap. His actions only made the girl giggle as she situated herself in his hold, used to her boyfriend’s antics by now.

“This one right here,” Eddie pointed out to Dustin, his arms now wrapped around her waist. To get more comfortable, she reciprocated his actions and wrapped her arms around his neck, causing their gazes to meet each other. Eddie’s smile only grew at the sight of her (e/c) orbs shining back at him as he lifted a hand to push her hair back, something he often found himself doing out of habit. “but thankfully, she came and asked me out.”

Before she could ask what their conversation was about, Dustin quickly interjected with a question of his own. “You asked him out?!”

Immediately, realization flashed across her face as her mouth formed a small 'o' shape. “Oh, are you talking about prom?” She reaffirmed, turning back to face Eddie. Still smiling, he nodded dopily at her as he remained entranced by the way her hair happened to fall that day.

Now smiling warmly, she turned her attention back to Dustin. “Well, technically, yes,” (Y/n) explained, letting out a small laugh afterward. “but it was more of a ‘hey, you wanna go crash the prom with me?’ kind of deal, and he totally went for it.”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better prom date,” Eddie stated, making (Y/n) giggle once more while she leaned farther into his hold.

“I think I’m more than just your old prom date at this point, right?” she murmured to him, making him flash his teeth at her with a bright grin. In front of them, Dustin turned away from the sight of the two as a warm feeling spread over him. He wondered if he had that same lovestruck look on his face when he gazed at Susie, or vice versa.

“Oh, most definitely, love of my life,” Eddie clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to her arm currently resting against his shoulder. At the same time, (Y/n)'s grip on him only tightened as she moved forward to connect their lips in a slow, small kiss, still careful not to do too much in front of the kids. Pulling away after a few moments, the same entranced look came over Eddie’s face as he spoke up once more. “You are so much more than just an old prom date.”

With that, (Y/n)’s smile only grew more before she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “I’m glad,” she murmured, their eyes remaining locked on each other as giggle fell from her lips. “Because you're so much more than just a prom date to me, love of my life.”

[harringtons-cupid]

could you write about joseph getting surprised on set by his partner? like he goes to his trailer to decompress (and maybe rub one out to the thought of you) between filming, but to his shock, you’re already there, sprawled out on the bed in a burgundy lingerie set he choose out for you. he has no choice but to scoop you up and fuck you against the wall, ripping your panties and moaning about how good you feel ehehehehehehe 🫣

Thank you so much for this ask, so I kind of changed it a little! But I hope you still like it!

Smut: 18+ : Cunnilingus, trailer sex, female masturbation, dirty talk. Fingering, clit spanking. Bent over knee. Creampies, finger sucking. Cum eating.

Other: Possessive Joe

Joe had been filming intensely all week, every time you saw him he would smile weakly and blink through those sleepy eyes. Collapsing asleep onto the bed before you even had a chance to speak to him.

The process repeated itself until you woke up one morning with a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, your thighs squeezed together to ignore the throbbing.

Shuddering as you clambered out of bed, biting your lip as your clit rubbed against your thighs as you walked. Bending down with a gasp to open your underwear drawer, after searching for a few minutes.

You finally found it, the lingerie set that Joe had bought you. Never having a chance to wear it, you stripped and changed with a whimper.

Lying on the bed admiring yourself in the burgundy set, you moved your legs together to create a tiny bit of friction to burn some of the heat that was erupting.

Continuing to masturbate until you couldn't take it anymore and desired more than your own thighs.

Pulling an outfit out of the wardrobe and shoving it into your nearest bag, you slung a long black cloak around your body with a shiver and headed out of the door.

Your clit throbbed as you drove yourself towards the set, dazzling a smile at the security from your passenger window and continuing in the direction of his work trailer.

Checking your surroundings before knocking softly on the door, with no answer you pushed the door open.

It was warmer than your car and the outdoors, instantly dropping the cloak once behind closed doors. You meandered in the direction of his bedroom, it smelt of him.

Your bag tucked neatly under the bed, you positioned yourself in the centre and opened your legs.

After waiting for what seemed like an age, the door to the trailer finally crept open, and quiet mumblings filled the kitchen and living area until his footsteps vibrated across the floor towards you.

★ ★ ★

Joe had been pulled and prodded all morning in the makeup and costume chairs, he was positioned and directed until tiredness crept up. He took a twenty-minute break before he was told that he would be performing a sex scene.

His mind shifted to you as he shoved a sock over his cock, trying to think of anything but sexual images of you as he was directed into the scene.

Once it was over and his lips were dry, guilt seeped through his veins as he wandered back to the trailer.

Images of you found their way back into his mind, ones he had suppressed earlier and he waddled towards the trailer with a raging hard-on. In need of release.

Mumbling to himself as he noticed the car outside the trailer but told himself that he was dreaming and he was only horny for you.

There was no way you would come to see him at work, you had only been on set once or twice and you hated it.

Everyone oggled you and jealously overcame him, warning you to only come back if he asked you.

You were his and only his.

Still mumbled as he made his way towards the bedroom, his cock now chafing against his boxers and jeans. Needing to be freed more than anything. He pushed the door open slightly, unprepared for the sight in front of him.

He stumbled on words as his mouth opened and closed in surprise, smirking at you as he noticed you staring at his obvious bulge.

Toying with his belt buckle, slowly letting his jeans fall to the ground. Not moving any closer to you as you widened your legs and pleaded with your eyes.

Biting your lip as your hand played with your constrained breast, your eyes never leaving his as you waited patiently for him to claim you.

As you waited for as long as you could, your hand had snaked down towards your thighs and your hips bucked against your palm. You began to whine.

''Please Joe, come fuck me'' Gasping as your hand palmed through the fabric of your panties.

Watching as he sighed with arousal heavily before dropping his boxers onto the floor, his cock was leaking with precum.

Edging closer to the bed where you lay, he bent down until his nose grazed your stomach and his teeth curled around the frilly part of your panties.

In one swift motion, he pulled them off you. Letting them drop to your ankles, with a shuddering gasp he dipped his head closer to your aching clit.

His eyes stared into you as his tongue moved in circular movements, your legs snapped tightly around his neck as your hips jerked with him.

The sounds of your moans and odd creaking filled the small trailer bedroom, his eyes were full of greed as he coached you closer to your orgasm.

Your legs shook heavily, as they slipped from around his neck. Your moans turned into whines, and he continued to suck and lick your clit until you were a quivering mess underneath him.

Not saying else for a few moments as he allowed you to catch your breath before breaking the heated silence.

''Stand up and face that wall'' his voice was steady and collected, towering over you.

He watched as you shakily did as you were told, struggling to hold yourself up as you used the wall for support. Eagerly watching him stride across the tiny area towards you with a smirk.

His arms slipped beneath you, grasping on your skin as his hard cock brushed against your wet thigh. With your front pressed firmly against the wall, he positioned himself closer to your entrance.

Teasing you slightly before edging himself inside you with a gasp, your pussy spasmed around his cock as you adjusted yourself to being filled up.

Whimpering softly into his ear as his cock hit the top of your walls, he began to thrust deeply inside you. Hitting your chest against the wall, hissing at the slight pain.

Not seeing his face was disapointing but the position currently was causing your legs to quiver. It felt incredible.

Your legs were spread as far apart as they could get without hurting you too much.

Joe was groaning into your ear as his hands gripped your body, thrusting you hard into thin walls of the trailer as his cock got deeper.

“I have been thinking about you all day” he said between thrusts.

You could tell by how hard he was thrusting inside you, not caring. You needed this release.

“What have you been thinking about?” You urged him on further.

“Oh lots of things baby, fucking you raw like this. Bending you over my lap, making sure my cum is deep inside you” he groaned.

“Please do as you say, I need that from you” you whined, your clit was twitching.

Your panties had been ripped, pulled aside to make room for his fat cock.

You were getting close to cumming yourself but you held it in, Joe was the important one here.

Grinding your own hip against his cock, he whimpered at the feeling.

“God you feel so good baby, I’m so close” he panted heavily.

“Cum for me Joe, please” you begged him.

Increasing your movement with his, you watched as he shivered. Before exploding hard, his cum leaked inside you.

His body was twitching from his orgasm, his fingers gripping into your shoulder as he moaned loudly into your ear.

He didn’t stay inside you for long once his cum had been emptied inside you.

Bending you over his lap as his cum seeped out of you, he dove his fingers inside your filled pussy.

Fingering you deeper and every time his tried to escape, he shoved his fingers down your throat.

“Good girls take cum in every hole” he smirked at you.

You were a mess on his lap as he continued making you cum 3 times from his fingers.

When there was a knock at the door, he didn’t stop fingering you. Forcing you to change into your clothes, pulling you onto his lap and throwing a blanket between you.

“Come in” he smirked at you.

Trying to limit the movement between you both as his assistant scolded him for being later, she blushed at the mess and smell of sex in the air.

Leaving you both too it, the movement she left. He pulled the blanket off you, one hand fingering your pussy and the other spanking your clit.

“Are you going to behave if I go to rehearsal? He eyed you.

Sitting his hoodie, still on the edge of an orgasm. Needing to cum one last time.

He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs and licked your clit. You ground against his face, you were already close to your orgasm.

Cumming onto his face and into his beard, your moans were loud. Rocking the bed of the trailer as you came the hardest you came today.

“Bye baby, such a good pussy” he smirked.

Kissing all your cum onto your face and mouth, giving your clit one more spank before heading out the door.

[tippenstoepens]

Prettiest Girl in the Room

Anyone would kill to play Joseph Quinn's wife on television. Anyone except you.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: 1.8k

Clubs were not your thing. But you were wrapping the first season of the show that gave you your first lead role on everyone’s favorite streaming service alongside 2022’s it-guy - Joseph Quinn. So you understood why this might be a night out that you couldn’t pass on. Even if it did end in disaster, it was a memory begging to be made.

The main cast had agreed on and planned this night out for the past three weeks in the group chat. The destination was a popular speakeasy in New York, the kind you needed a password for and entered through an inconspicuous door hidden behind a dumpster. 

There you sat at the table, forcing the coolest attitude you could conjure sitting across from your TV husband, Joe. In the six months you spent as his TV wife, you couldn’t imagine why everyone was so head over heels for this guy. Sure, he’s handsome and good with fans, but is that all it took? Was the bar truly that low? Your heart cried for women everywhere. 

He could also be kind of cocky and a bit of a smartass. He would make passive aggressive jokes at your expense. Maybe it was some kind of culture thing you weren’t picking up. He was British after all. He kept calling you “Mrs. Henderson” instead of your own, real name after you had asked him multiple times to stop calling you by your character’s married name when you weren’t filming. Then he just began to tease you about it.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Good to see you, Mrs. Henderson.”

Holly Vanguard made sure to get the seat to Joe’s right, laughing too loudly at all of his dry humor. She even laughed when he wasn’t making jokes. Maybe she was just stuck in character. She played Joe’s secretary on the show. “We’re both British,” she took care to remind you often. “We get each other.” Why Holly excluded your very British TV father from this covenant, you’ll never know. David sat to your left.

Every so often he would reach over and squeeze your hand in reassurance. When you looked over to him, he’d be smiling softly with encouragement in his eyes. You had developed a negative reputation throughout filming the season because you preferred not to agitate your social anxiety by leaving your trailer. David was the only one you had confided in about it after a particularly stressful day on set. You’d heard whispers of your “stuck up attitude” after passing on a previous night out with the cast (which you suspected was started by Holly). You were sure your bickering with Joe when the cameras weren’t rolling hadn’t helped.

This was your first real gig and the circus of it all drove you crazy. There were a lot of politics involved in being part of a cast of public figures. Apparently, people weren’t supposed to disagree with anyone who had more public recognition than you did - especially if that one was GQ’s Man of the Year. You suspected Joe liked your attitude at least a little bit, but you couldn’t be sure.

“Why don’t we play Spin the Bottle?” Holly suggested to the table, giving Joe eyes.

Groans of opposition came from the older cast members and they excused themselves to the dancefloor after everyone had a laugh. And then there were five. You silently wept at the loss of your emotional support TV father.

“In the middle of a pandemic? No,” Jackson shut it down and made a different proposal. “Let’s play a good old-fashioned game of Truth or Dare. But you don’t get to choose either or - the person asking chooses for you. If you refuse a dare or question, you’ve gotta take a shot of tequila.”

“Every 20 minutes, I’ll refuse a question,” Joe declared and slapped a palm onto the table. His dirty martini shook next to the point of impact. 

The group made rounds around the table and when it came to you, you asked Jackson what it was like to be the most fashionable person in the room at all times. 

“Oh my god, finally someone acknowledges my plight. It’s exhausting. I spend all this time planning outfits and looking amazing, but do I get invited to the Met Gala? No. I don’t even get to look at myself all day, everyone else gets to see my color coordination and I have to look at everyone else’s sweatpants and Wallabees. No offense, Joseph,” Jackson said with no remorse.

“That’s fair,” Joe shrugged and smirked.

In the few rounds you all had, you noticed Joe always dared people to do absurd things like pose with the statues in the back of the club and “stay in character” for a full five minutes or take the fish skeleton off of the plate of the table next to them and cuddle it for a full round.

You thought it was sweet that he only came up with dares that wouldn’t inconvenience the staff and other club go-ers or violate anyone’s boundaries while still managing to be funny. He could easily be obnoxious if he wanted to. He’s not so bad, you guessed.

When his fourth turn came around, he broke the pattern. Joe said your name and you prepared to fully commit to whatever zany bit he’d come up with this time, but he said:

“Truth: why don’t you come out with us more often?”

“O-oh,” you blubbered, caught off guard. “I just… I’m not good with crowds.”

“Oh, come on. I want a real answer.”

“That is my real answer. I’d just make a fool of myself. I’m not…”

“You seem to be doing just fine so far.”

“Well, that’s because David-” You turned to look for him and found him attempting a very bad vogue in a small group of younger people. They cheered and let all sorts of onomatopoeia in encouragement. “...was helping.”

“Alright, alright, but if you don’t come out with us next time, I’ll be wounded.” Joe pressed both hands to his pectoral over his heart.

“Next!” Jackson jeered.

“Oh! Would you look at that, it’s my turn!” Holly squealed. You didn’t have the highest opinion of Holly, but the feminist in you refused to dislike her until she committed an actual crime like vehicular manslaughter. Being annoying wasn’t a serious enough offense.

Holly dramatically adjusted herself in her seat to face Joe.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room,” Holly slurred and puckered her glossy lips, tilting forward a bit to display her cleavage. Your stomach dropped. Everyone at the table exchanged glances, wondering if Joe was drunk enough to entertain it.

Joe’s eyelids fluttered and his head tilted as he processed what had been said. Had she really just done that? It was only after his eyes flicked over to you that you became aware of the jealousy on your face. Your recovery was quick, but not quick enough. Hopefully he took it as concern or judgement. He knit his brow and chuckled. Shit.

“You got me,” he surrendered. He grabbed a tequila shot from the tray and chucked the liquor down his throat. He didn’t even make a face. It was kind of sexy. No! It wasn’t. It was most definitely not sexy.

Holly exhaggerated a pout to play off the embarrassment. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. The game had got you loosened up enough to make your way to the dancefloor. Everyone whooped and hollered when you did. 

You couldn’t decide if it was just the liquid courage or if you were actually dancing very well. Your movements felt so fluid and you hit every beat - an uphill battle when you were sober. Judging by everyone’s surprise and the circle that formed around you in the middle of the dancefloor, you’d say your theory was accurate. Who knew the shyest cast member could be such a party animal?

After a verse of the 90s R&B song that was playing, you pointed to the first co-worker you laid eyes on and joined the circle as they took your place. 

…

The group stumbled through the hallways of the hotel at four in the morning, trying to keep the volume at a minimum and failing miserably. Your ears must’ve still been ringing from the club. Everyone was giggling and “SHHHH”-ing and repeating their room number.

“25D… 25, 25, 25…” Alex repeated.

“Shhhhh! We’re still in the under 20s! That’s 12D!” Jackson shouted.

“Both of you shut the fuck up! People are trying to sleep!” David whisper-shouted.

Joe shushed all three of them. 

When all the oversized toddlers were dropped off at their respective rooms, there was only yourself and Joe left. You’d wished you had booked a room further away just to talk to Joe a little longer. He was giggly and flushed from the drinks and you had never seen him so… cute. 

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your hotel room door. 

“Have you got your key?”

“Yeah,” you reached into your bag and retrieved the plastic card, holding it in your hands for a bit too long before looking up at Joe. You didn’t want the night to end. His eyes were glossy and full of - dare you say it - admiration.

“Well, I guess-“ “I think you’re-“

“Oh, sorry.” 

“No, no,” you said. “I, um…”

There was another long pause of sustained eye contact. It should have felt awkward or uncomfortable, but it didn’t. A smile spread across his face. You huffed a smaller laugh and found your own lips spreading. 

“Good night,” he said softly.

“Good night,” you barely whispered.

Joe walked down the hall as you swiped your key and turned the handle.

“Oh,” He muttered and snapped his fingers once.

“I’ve almost forgotten,” Joe called. He jogged back to your door and took your head into his hands. “I owe you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss into your lips. Then another. And another. Before you knew it, you were both nibbling on each others lips and swirling tongues into the other’s mouth. Which should have been raunchy and drunken and a huge mistake, but it didn’t feel like any of those things. He was so gentle and soft with you in a way that no other man had been before. Before you knew it, you were standing there: eyes blissfully closed and lips still slightly parted as Joe floated away from you.

“Good night, Mrs. Henderson,” he purred in that deep, chocolatey voice of his and walked back down the hall, disappearing into the elevator.

You stood there in front of your door for a good thirty seconds before coming back down from your high and slipping into your hotel room, dreaming of the next kiss Joe had in store for Mrs. Henderson. 

[seatnights]

Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?

i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.

are u ready for this?

authors you SHOULD support:

oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories

OK SO

here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.

obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!

now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:

DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!

they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.

thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!

-🤍🌻🌱

[pedgito]

just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead

author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.8k

Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.

He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”

You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.

It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.

“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”

Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”

His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.

“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”

“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.

You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.

“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.

“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”

Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.

“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.

“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”

“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”

And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.

“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”

But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.

And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.

“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”

So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.

“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”

He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.

“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”

And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.

“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”

“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.

Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.

“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”

You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.

Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.

“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”

It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.

Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.

“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.

Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.

But, Eddie was stubborn.

“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”

You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“

“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.

Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.

His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.

“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”

But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.

Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.

And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.

“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“

“God, you’re unbelievable—“

Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.

The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“

Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”

You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.

“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”

You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.

“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”

And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.

“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.

“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.

“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”

“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”

Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.

“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“

You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.

“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”

You sigh quietly, nodding in response.

His touches are just as gentle, if not more.

It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[localemofreak]

Because We’re Only Kissing When We’re Drunk.

(Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader)

Based on this song:

Low-key In Love - The Struts

—————————————

Story: You and Joe had always been this ‘friends with benefits’ thing- and you never expected anything more from it, he was there for you and you were there for him- that was that. But one night, Joseph said something in the moment that freaked you out and caused you to run off- and he instantly regretted it.. or did he??..

‼️Warnings‼️: mentions of smut, use of y/n, drinking, slight angst, slight comfort at the end, etc. (if I missed anything please tell me!)

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You and Joseph had been friends for quite a while, well I guess you can consider each other 'friends'

If hanging at each other's houses late at night every week, getting completely shitfaced, then hooking up is considered being 'friends' then yeah- you guys are friends..

Really good friends.

To be honest- you guys are totally a 'friends with benefits' thing, but you just both hate that word so much- it makes things seem weirder than they already are.

It started off with one night, your now ex just dumped you- you wanted to distract yourself.

Who better to go to then the first man you called to hang out, Mr Joseph Quinn himself.

It started off as a regular hangout, you crying on his shoulder as he consoled you, you both had a few drinks- then things escalated there.

All that you could remember was waking up, naked in his bed- the shower was running because Joe was in there and you used that moment to escape as quickly as you could.

After that night, things changed.

Soon it became once every few months, to once a month, to a couple times a month-

Now you or him were at each other's houses, hooking up on the couch once a week if not a couple times more.

But neither of you were complaining- and neither of you had feelings for each other.

It was more of a way to escape everything, to just let all the stress of the week fall out.

Through drinks and steamy, naked make-out sessions.

But this time- things were different.

It was a late, Friday night- Joe had texted you telling you how much of a stressful week he's had with work and everything.

Being the good 'friend' you were- you obviously headed over to his place to help him get rid of the stress.

Then it happened.

You were both in his bedroom, he was leaning back against his headboard, you were on his lap- you two were basically just eating each other's faces up.

Nobody and nothing could stop you both at this moment.

the sounds of lips smacking with small hums and groans, the feeling of hot breath on both your lips mixed with the hands roaming- both of you were just locked in the whole steamy moment.

Then it just fell from his lips.

"Fuck darling- I love you so much."

He moaned it out against your lips as his hands were gripping onto your waist and your ass.

Your eyes just quickly shot open at the moment, causing you to freeze-

He didn't just say that did he?- but he did.

It took a moment to noticed you stopped kissing as his eyes slowly fluttered open, his soft brown doe eyes revealing themselves.

You watched as his eyes widened, realizing what he said.

You both never thought you had feelings for each other, at least you didn't think he had feelings for you- you always would agree that this was strictly friendship only.

But apparently Joseph didn't think that way- and you weren't gonna lie, neither did you- but you never said anything.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry-" he said, only to get caught off by you.

"I should uh, I should probably get going-" you said, just pretty much in shock at what he said as you quickly climbed off his lap and got off the bed.

"Wait- y/n, darling-" he said, his smooth British accent running through your ears as he quickly stood up from the bed as well.

You just quickly shook your head, keeping your gaze down as you quickly grabbed your shoes and sped out the bedroom.

"I'll- I'll call you Joe.. okay?" You said, quickly grabbing your bag while he followed you, and you refused to meet his gaze.

"Wait let me explain please-" he said, but before anything else could happen- you had left, slamming the door behind you to get to your flat as quickly as possible…

As soon as you got to your flat, you started freaking out.

He loved you?!?! No- that's not possible, you guys are just friends- hell, you guys are just fuck buddies!

You weren't freaking out in a negative way- more like in a "holy shit" way.

You never really thought about having feelings for Joe-

of course there would be moments where you would look into his eyes, noticing how pretty they truly were.

Or how hot his messy curls looked in the morning after a wild night-

Or how that little slutty chain would dangle from his neck as he hovered over you.

Oh fuck it- he was hot as shit, and you liked him.

But it was just such a shock for him to actually like you back… but what if he didn't?-

Maybe it was just an 'in the moment' thing, maybe he was thinking of another girl-

Soon all these thoughts were cut off by a loud knock on your front door.

You jumped at the sound, instantly knowing who it was- and you didn't want to answer it.

"Y/n, love- are you home?.." Joseph's beautiful voice rang out through your wooden door.

You just stood in your living room, staring at the door as he continued to knock on it- obviously eager to talk to you.

Soon enough of just standing there, silently panicking to yourself, you just sucked up the courage to go answer the door.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you headed over to the door, your hand resting on the doorknob before you turned it open.

Your eyes were instantly met with his worried brown doe eyes-

He looked anxious, nervous, like he felt like he fucked up big time- which he did feel.

Your eyes moved down to look at his outfit- he was wearing some pretty good looking flared jeans, a nice button down shirt and his brown leather jacket over it, his hands resting in his pocket as he stood there nervously.

"Can I?.." he said, looking down at you, instantly making eye contact with you.

It was an obvious habit of his with people, making eye contact whenever he talked- just so people knew he was listening to them.

You just quickly broke it, bringing your gaze down to the ground as you gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze once again while he walked into the small flat you owned.

As soon as you noticed his shoes walk onto your wood floors, you slowly closed the front door behind him, continuing to keep your eyes down.

"I- uh, I think we need to talk.." he muttered, his voice soft and smooth as you noticed his feet turn towards you- meaning he was facing you.

"There's nothing to talk about Joe.." you mumbled, your voice quiet as you were too nervous to say anything- afraid that this might be it, the end to everything..

Soon you felt two bulky, firm fingers grip onto your chin, lifting your face up to meet his eyes- which you did.

He had a soft look in his eyes, causing them to sparkle as they looked down into yours- god he was perfect.

You two just stood for a while, admiring each other while feeling your lips slowly move more and more closer together.

"You’re right.. maybe there isn't any words to say.." you heard him whisper, his voice was so soft as it ran through your ears.

You could feel his breath on your lips as his face basically hovered over yours, causing a small chill to run down your spine.

Finally- his lips were pressed against yours, and you leaned into the soft but passionate kiss.

Both your eyes fluttered shut as you stood there, his hand holding your face firmly.

After standing there, slowly but passionately kissing him, you slowly pulled away- your eyes opening to meet his which were so close to yours.

"I love you too Joe.."

[icallhimjoey]

this might be too close to your most recent but possible ficspiration? I'm stressed and run down and I think you are too, and I woke up today just wanting a lazy lie-in morning with our soft boyfriend to make the real world go away. bonus points for a lil soft smut.

everyone deserves a soft lil joey who just wants a lazy little lie in with us so here you go - enjoy! (tw: lil teeny tiny bit of smut) Wordcount: 2.5K

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Five More Minutes

"Mhmm... five more minutes." You tucked duvet where there wasn't any yet and curled up tight, ducking into your shoulders, ready to ignore real world chaos for at least a little while longer.

Five more minutes longer.

You weren’t sure when the words slipped into your bloodstream and became part of you. If they were already there before Joe, or if it had born into life just from being with him. 

Of course, you’d said them a thousand times before.

Everyone did. 

But it was a real habit now. A thing you did. Your subconscious had grown accustomed to forming the words when sleep even only slightly threatened to slip away upon waking. 

Five more minutes. 

You could be on an airplane, being tapped on the shoulder by a flight attendant and you’d tell them, “Five more minutes.” getting giggles from everyone within earshot. Or you could be on your own sofa on a weekend afternoon being woken up by the doorbell ringing and you’d tell an empty flat, “Five more minutes.” and then would have to go and collect whatever delivery you’d missed at the post office later.

You’d mutter it to no one, to strangers, but more often than not; you’d say it to Joe.

Five more minutes. 

You’d always say it. Even if you didn’t have five minutes to spare, and also if you’d have all day to snooze - the words would slip out before you'd even know it, inaudible and unintelligible, strung together with sleep, but you’d always say them. 

And then, after spending enough time together, Joe started doing the same. 

"Mhmm... five more minutes." Joe was the one to say it that morning, voice barely there, just a low rumble of noise.

You had to reach over him to stop the alarm on his phone from increasing in volume, and Joe took advantage of your body being close by wrapping both his arms around your middle, keeping you there.

"Joe..."

"Hmm," Joe groaned, body sleep warm, but his grip deceptively strong seeing as he was barely awake. "Five more min–..." Joe didn't even finish the words, ending on a sigh as he nosed at your cheek.

It took just about all of your willpower to not give in and just fall back asleep right on top of him.

You knew Joe would let it happen.

He'd easily ignore every responsibility if it meant cuddling with his favourite person underneath his sheets for however long he wanted.

He couldn’t pull you in close enough if he tried; he wanted you to share the same pillow, to breathe in the scent of your skin as his nose pressed into your neck. 

Joe wanted your weight on top of him forever, one hand free to hold your ass, the other free to touch whatever else he wanted; drawing lines down your side, finger tips sneaking under your top to crawl along your back, leaving shivers in their wake.

Joe just wanted a lifetime of this, even longer if it existed, but if five more minutes were all he was going to get, he’d take it, and was that really too much to ask?

"Joe..." his name left your lips in a murmur that you tried to make sound like a threat - like anything you could ever say in his bed could sound like a threat.

Silly.

Joe skillfully ignored you, mouth grazing over your cheek as one of his hands squeezed your hip tightly before slipping up and under your T-shirt.

And it was lovely. Warm and soft and gentle and, just, lovely.

But you knew Joe didn't have the time.

When Joe's palm started rounding out to your front to find new bits to grab at, you groaned loudly and tried to actually fight his grip this time.

"No, babe, I love you, but you have to get up."

You sat up, now straddling the boy, duvet falling down the back of you, exposing Joe to the temperature of the room and it made him flinch before curling up to preserve whatever warmth he could.

"Five more–" Joe tried once more, face burying deeper into his pillow, one arm reaching out to pull you back, but you were already gone. Up and out. Pushing the duvet even further down the bed in a bid to make sure Joe couldn't easily snuggle back up under.

"How dare you..." Joe gasped, already sounding more awake, humour hidden somewhere in his vowels.  

"Well," you smiled, using both arms to open the blinds, bathing Joe in morning sunlight. "I said I love you and you didn’t say it back, so..." you reasoned, giving a slight shrug of a single shoulder.

"Um, I don't want to alarm you," Joe started, not ready to give in just yet, now bending into shapes to reach for a corner of the duvet, "But I love you so much I don't think you fully understand."

You scoffed as you walked past the bed, a quick hand moving the duvet even further out of Joe's reach, making him grumble in defeat.

"You calling me stupid?" you teased, grinning at Joe's failed attempt to get back into bed the way he wanted to, and you started collecting an outfit from his wardrobe.

"No," Joe said, now finally sitting up, vanquished by the morning. His hair went every which way, a look you fucking loved on him, but a look you know Joe hated.

"You’re the smartest person I know, which actually is a real testimony to this amount of love I’ve got cooking for you."

Sat with his bum sunken into his mattress and tummy rolls on show, Joe rubbed a hand over his face and had to squint when he stared straight into the sun for a second.

"Yea?" you asked, arms full of clothes, stepping closer to the bed for a quick morning smooch before you'd jump into the shower.

Joe got the hint immediately, head tipping back to get you right on the lips.

"Cook me breakfast instead."

It was easy to get up and drag Joe out of bed on mornings where you'd actually gotten enough sleep in the night. When the evening before you'd been sensible and had gone, night babe, slipping into bed without waiting up for Joe.

But then the nights where you did wait up for Joe, where you forgot about your early morning for a second and stayed up late together; those mornings were tough and left you to be the one to whine for an extra five minutes.

You were still half asleep when the fresh scent of shower reached your nose.

The rustling of Joe getting dressed is what pulled you from your slumber more, and when you peeked with a careful squinty eye, you saw how the sun was barely even up yet.

Illegal.

Joe had no business dressing up into a button-up this early in the morning.

You were about to turn over to see if your prediction was correct, if Joe really was partaking in criminal behaviour before dawn, but before you could, you were slapped right out of your soft snoozy state.

Not Joe's fault that your ass peeking from the covers, all round, all deserving of a little lovetrap, distracted him mid getting ready.

You groaned loudly at the shock, the sharp fraction of a second of pain already gone before it even fully registered, and before you could even complain about it, Joe lovingly rubbed a large palm over the now reddening skin.

"Good morning."

"Noo," you whined, reaching behind to push his hand away so you could try to cover yourself up more.

"Five more minutes."

Joe let your hand find his to tangle fingers together, and if you weren't after some morning cuddles over the covers, you really should have been more clear.

Air was pushed from your lungs when Joe let himself fall right on top of you, trapping your arms in between you a little weirdly, and you felt on your face that Joe's hair was wet from his shower still.

You knew this was likely Joe's stupid way of waking you up where he thought you'd find him annoying enough to push him off of you in a struggle he wasn't going to let you win easily.

However, Joe was wrong.

Instead of fighting him off, you shifted onto your back, just enough to where you felt comfortable with Joe's full bodyweight on top of you and got both your arms around his neck, trapping him right where you wanted him.

You'd get him back another time for the brutal ass-slap.

This was prime snuggly morning time, and Joe smelt all fresh and clean, teeth brushed and skin moisturized, and it wasn't your fault that morning cuddles just happened to be infinitely better than late night ones. You'd be sleep soft like you were now, and Joe wouldn't hesitate to sink heavy limbs over your frame; you somehow never overheated in the morning.

And, listen. Who was Joe to deny you this bliss?

You could have five more minutes of this, no questions asked.

"I've got coffee waiting," he murmured into your ear after a while, no sign of him moving to get up yet, though.

"Hmm, that's okay, you can have it cold." you whispered back, eyes closed, nose nuzzling into the skin by his ear.

You felt Joe's stomach muscles pull as he silently laughed.

"Iced coffee." you simply said just before you felt Joe try to pull free from the headlock you had him in.

"Room temp doesn't count as iced," he argued softly, leaning back just far enough to get a good look at your face. The cheek that had been pressed to his tinged slightly red. Joe couldn't help smile at it.

"How do you wake up this good looking?" Joe started, and before he'd even finished his sentence, you were already frowning through a smile, clearly disagreeing. Made him laugh.

"No, I'm serious, here you are, two seconds after waking up, a literal, like, Disney princess, whereas I– did you see me? I wake up and it's, it's honestly shocking, I'm all," Joe pulled a face that was meant to be ugly, but was just him raising his eyebrows whilst squinting both eyes shut. Made you laugh.

He looked at you like that a second until you leant up and planted a kiss right on his mouth.

You felt how Joe's slow grin grew into the kiss and for a moment, you thought maybe if you held onto Joe tightly enough, you'd be able to coax him back into bed with you.

Just for a little while.

Five more minutes.

But then Joe broke the kiss, and instead of feeling Joe's slow smile, you got to look at it for a moment as he hovered over you a second too long.

If he had places to be, surely those places could wait, you thought.

Joe had a literal Disney princess in his bed, he'd just said.

"Five more minutes?" you asked softly, both your hands finding Joe's cheeks to cup.

You couldn't help thinking how Joe looked nice. Pretty. Skin shiny from scrubbing and hair kept in place by how wet it still was.

"Hmm," Joe mused, leaning into your touch and closing his eyes a second. "You can have all the more minutes you want, but I..." Joe inhaled sharply. "I have to get going."

You groaned with annoyance, head dropping backwards deeper into your pillow, but the wallowing only lasted a second, because as he struggled his way back onto his feet, Joe got you with kisses to your chin, jaw, cheeks, nose and eventually, your lips.

Promises of cooking dinner tonight at a normal hour were made, and whilst doing up the last of his buttons, you started saying, "Hate to see you go," of which Joe knew exactly how the quote ended. As he walked out, he stopped right at the threshold to lean into his hip, popping his booty, his face doing the absolute most trying to suppress a smile as you finished, "But I love to watch you leave."

It wasn't so bad being woken up by Joe before the sun was even up if it meant he left you in a fit of giggles.

But the best mornings?

The best mornings were the ones where you both had no place to be.

Where you just got to add five more minutes to five more minutes to five more minutes.

Mornings where you'd wake up and would whisper, "Five more minutes..." and reached for Joe who'd greedily accept you into his arms and would say it right back, "Five more minutes."

Where you'd try to crawl into each other's skin, early morning light warming your tangled legs that stuck out from under the covers.

Where words knitted together with sleep as Joe asked, "Hey, you know what day it is?" and you'd sleepily answer, "Saturday?" and Joe'd reply, "That's right, just another day." as he'd pull you into him tighter.

Where you were still soft with sleep as Joe's front curved to your back and an arm curled around which you got to hug close, using his hand to rest your head into.

Where the need to be close became so overwhelming that Joe would make sure he got you on top of him exactly how he wanted, one hand grabbing at the fat of your bum whilst the other snuck around into your underwear.

Where a soft, "Hmm?" was enough of a question, and "Mhmm." was enough of an answer for Joe to push himself inside, not enough strength to hold his head up, but just enough to buck his hips up and hold your thigh in place.

Where he'd groan to your whines, warm palm running flat across the curves of your waist underneath your top, teasing the soft skin just under your boobs.

Where the sex was so slow and lazy, it would go on for ages, neither of you in a rush to really go anywhere, essentially spoon-fucking yourselves slowly awake.

Where eventually someone's stomach would rumble and Joe would start whispering things into your ear about breakfast in between his own panting and the frequent oh-fucks he'd let slip out.

"What if we, ahh, what if we went and got coffee," Joe'd mumble, kissing you over your shoulder, breath hot, skin sticky. "And then go to the shops, get– oh fuck, get bagels, yea? Maybe some bacon, and eggs?"

And you'd whine at the suggestion, barely managing to squeak out, "Avocados." which would for whatever reason make Joe push in extra deep and moan so loud, it'd make you laugh.

Joe would make you orgasm, just before he'd come himself, and in your come down, he'd murmur a soft, "Five more minutes." as he burrowed his nose into your skin.

And you'd agree, "Five more minutes.", hiding both of your bodies underneath the covers, ready to ignore real world chaos for at least a little while longer.

Five more minutes longer, to be exact.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[joeliz99]

In Your Embrace- Joseph Quinn

Description: Joe has a rough day at work, but at the end of the day he gets to unwind and distract himself with the only person he would rather spend time with.

Word count: 1772

Warnings: None, Pure Fluff

Joe had only been home for about an hour, still shaking off the exhaustion of a long day filled with back-to-back meetings and endless tasks. He hadn’t had a moment to reach out to Y/N, the one person who could always make him feel grounded. Now, finally settled in bed, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his apps, feeling the quiet of his apartment settle around him.

It was just before 9:30 p.m., their usual time to reconnect when the chaos of the day would finally quiet down. With a tired but eager sigh, Joe tapped on the FaceTime icon. A wave of anticipation mixed with the weariness still clinging to him as he waited for her face to appear on the screen. 

Y/N had just stepped out of the shower when her phone rang. She wrapped a towel around herself, glancing at the screen before answering the call. Her hair, still damp, clung to her cheeks, and she greeted him with a soft smile. "Hiiii," she said, showing just half of her face through the camera, her eyes narrowing in that familiar way when she smiled.

Joe appeared on her screen, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Hey, love,” he greeted, his voice warm but edged with noticeable tiredness. He could see she was still finishing up her routine, her usual products on sight.

“Do you want me to call you back later?” he asked softly, noticing she was still getting dressed. His tone was gentle, trying not to rush her.

Y/N quickly shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I’m nearly done,” she replied, disappearing from the screen momentarily to pull on some clothes. Her voice was slightly muffled as she added, “How are you? How’s your day been?”

Joe’s smile faded a bit, and he let out a small sigh, his accent a little thicker, making his words sound heavier. “It was alright,” he said vaguely, his tone subdued. “Just thought I’d call you before you go to bed.”

When Y/N returned to view, her body fully in the frame now, she noticed the shift in his expression. “Did something happen? You seem a bit off,” she pressed gently, a playful yet concerned lilt to her voice as she searched his face through the screen.

Joe shook his head, trying to make himself comfortable, shifting his position on the bed while keeping his gaze fixed on her. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Just tell me about your day,” There was a hint of effort in his voice, as if he were trying too hard to sound casual.

Though not entirely convinced, Y/N decided to play along. She began recounting the events of her day, adding in some of the gossip they both enjoyed. Joe’s lips curved into a small smile, his dimples deepening whenever he laughed softly at her stories. He made the occasional comment, enough to keep the conversation flowing, but his usual energy was missing.

Despite the lighthearted banter, it was clear to Y/N that something was weighing on Joe’s mind. She could see it in the way he occasionally rubbed his temple or how his fingers tapped restlessly against the bed sheets.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But... Are you sure you’re okay? It doesn’t seem like it.” 

Joe let out a long sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he finally admitted, “I’ve had a rough day with press interviews and handling logistics for the next project. Just a bit under the weather. Nothing specific. But it’ll pass…”

Y/N nodded, her expression softening. “Is there anything I can do to cheer you up? We could watch a film or do something else you fancy.”

Joe’s lips curved into a faint, tired smile. “I wouldn’t mind one of your hugs right now.”

“A hug?” Y/N chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. “I'm always down for that. What are we gonna do about that then?”

His smile widened, his dimples becoming more pronounced. He glanced at his phone, considering it for a moment. “Fancy a drive? I can pick you up if you’re not too tired.”

“Sure. Can I go like this?” Y/N asked, showing him her oversized T-shirt and biker shorts.

“Yeah, you’re fine like that. I’ll be there in 15 minutes, alright?”

“Sounds good. See you soon."

They hung up, both moving quickly to get ready. Joe grabbed a blanket and an extra hoodie, just in case, then left his flat and fetched the car from the garage. He sent Y/N a quick text as he arrived, and she hurried out, shivering slightly in the night’s chill.

When Y/N slid into the car, she greeted Joe with a smile and a quick kiss. He smiled back, letting her choose the music as he drove. The hum of the engine and the familiar beats of their shared playlist filled the space, creating a comforting backdrop for their light chatter. Y/N kept her conversation minimal, sensing that Joe needed some quiet to process whatever was on his mind.

After a few minutes, Joe reached out, his free hand searching for hers. Y/N intertwined their fingers without hesitation, and he began gently stroking her hand, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles, his eyes never leaving the road. His serious yet calm demeanor reassured her, even as his arm flexed slightly with each turn, veins visible in the dim light.

They made a quick stop at a petrol station for snacks and drinks. Y/N chuckled at Joe's snack haul, grabbing a chocolate bar while Joe picked an assortment of crisps and a couple of fizzy drinks. Back on the road, he took a sip of his drink and grinned mischievously.

“Did you know that cows can have best friends? They get stressed when they’re separated from them. So, if you ever see a cow looking sad, it might just be missing its BFF.”

Y/N looked at him with a blank face, biting into her chocolate. “Hmm, exactly how you act when you're not around me,” she quipped back, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Joe raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Alright, your turn."

"Okay, I got one. Why don’t scientists trust atoms?"

Joe gave a mock sigh, playing along. "Why?"

“Because they make up everything…” Y/N said with a smirk. She paused before adding, "Kinda like you do."

Joe rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. "Oh, so we're going there, are we?"

They continued their playful banter, tossing silly jokes back and forth. Joe’s tone grew more animated as they went on, his laughter becoming more genuine. Y/N could see the tension melting away from his features, his smile becoming more relaxed.

“Alright, alright. I think you’ve won this round,” Joe finally conceded, a wide grin spreading across his face. The trivia game, filled with side glances and stifled chuckles, had turned into a riot of laughter. Their playful competition kept the mood light and joyful, making the drive an enjoyable experience despite Joe’s earlier down mood.

Eventually, they arrived at a quaint park with a panoramic view just outside the suburbs. Joe grabbed the blanket and hoodie, and Y/N followed him.

They both took in the view, and he handed Y/N the blanket to keep her warm while he wrapped himself in the hoodie.

“I’ve only been here a handful of times,” Joe said, his voice softer now. “But there’s something about this place that I really love.”

“I mean... The view alone is reason enough,” Y/N replied with a smile. “I don’t think I would have experienced England the way I have if it weren’t for you.”

“You probably would have,” Joe said, mimicking her expression and sitting on the edge of the car. “There’s still so much more I want you to see.”

“Good thing we’ve got some time.”

Y/N lingered for a few moments before turning to Joe with a playful grin. Joe was already looking at her, his expression shifting from confusion to a small smile as she moved closer and opened her arms for a hug.

He welcomed her with open arms and a warm laugh, letting her hold him tight as she wrapped him in the blanket. His arms rested gently on the lower part of her back, and his chin rested on top of her head, leaving a soft kiss there.

Since they’d met, Joe had noticed Y/N wasn’t a big fan of physical touch with just anyone. Only a few people got that kind of affection from her, and thankfully, he was one of them.

He never turned down a hug, kiss, or even the smallest touch from her, even if they were upset with each other.

“Hey,” Joe murmured after a while. Y/N lifted her head to meet his gaze. Joe smiled down at her, taking in her features and the pimple patch she had on before leaning in for a kiss.

Joe’s kisses usually started soft, almost as if offering a preview of what was to come. When he deepened the kiss, his hand, adorned with rings, cupped her face while the other hand held her waist securely.

Their lips moved together in a rhythm that seemed to crave more, and when Joe bit her lip, Y/N melted, letting his tongue explore as the intensity grew.

They only broke apart when they needed air, both of them noticing how their lips had turned red and slightly plumper.

Y/N smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed as if it were the first time they had shared such a tender moment. She rested her face against his chest for a brief second, making Joe genuinely laugh.

“Only gave you a kiss and your knees are already weak?” Joe teased with a laugh, his eyes becoming smaller with the act. 

Y/N playfully punched his chest, laughing. “Shut up, Joe.”

“But am I even lying? ” he said, trying not to laugh as his hands wandered to her backside and gave it a playful squeeze.

“Joseph!” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry! Don’t be looking so good then. It’s not my fault,” Joe said, his tone light and teasing.

“I literally look like a bag lady,” Y/N laughed along with him. “Leave me alone.”

“I haven’t done anything to you. It’s my presence that makes you nervous.”

“No, it doesn’t. Don’t let it go to your head,” Y/N retorted with a small, playful smile.

Joe laughed even harder and pulled her closer, allowing himself to enjoy all of her presence. Spending time alone together turned out to be exactly what Joe needed, making the hours of stress and exhaustion seem now like a complete distant memory.

[likeregularcheetos]

my jaw literally dropped holy shit who gave him the right what the fuck

[tippenstoepens]

Prettiest Girl in the Room

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: 1.2k

You couldn’t hold it against Joe. As an adult woman, you knew better by now. Kisses don’t come with strings attached and just because a person kisses you, doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their life with you - especially if that kiss happened while both parties were drunk.

Which Joe made pretty apparent when he didn’t call you the morning after your kiss. Or the three mornings after that. Or the three months after that. All you had heard from Joe was his reaction notifications from the cast group chat when someone would send a Twitter meme made of the show. Everyone fancied one of Jackson’s character screaming “Well, you can shove your ham up your ass!” 

“Joekeery loved an image”

That’s all you got. 

You went about your life the way you always did between gigs: waitressing during the week, babysitting your friends’ kids on weekends, and sending out the odd self-tape in hopes your career wasn’t over before it had even begun. It was a nice, simple life. Not every actor was fortunate enough to afford a roof over their head in New York City, no matter how many doubles they worked. You consider yourself spoiled rotten every day. What could possibly be missing?

You didn’t date. That was probably part of the problem. That’s what made Joe’s silence ache so deeply. You wondered if it would change anything if he knew that the most action you had gotten in months before the kiss was getting catcalled in the streets. A simple kiss meant the world to celibate, touch starved women like you.

Maybe you should be the one to call him… And maybe you should crawl on your knees begging him to pay you a modicum of attention with “DESPERATE” written on your forehead in red Sharpie just to put the icing on the idiot cake. 

He popped into your mind way more often than he was welcome. At the grocery store when one of the songs he always played in the makeup trailer started harassing you over the intercom. In your kitchen when you removed fish bones from your salmon. In bed when you were trying to… Well, that’s no one’s business. 

“Guess who has two thumbs and just got renewed for a second season,” the director bubbled in the group chat.

“Oh, I love this game,” David texted. “This show. Our show got greenlit.”

It was time to shake it off. Not just for the sake of the show, but for your own sake. It wasn’t healthy to dwell so much on the past. 

On the first day back from hiatus, the producers and director had the cast sit for a table read of the first few scripts they had written. As Joe’s TV wife, you’d expect to be sitting next to him considering most of your scenes were together. Maybe you should talk to Joe and clear the air before the table read started. Yes. That’s the mature thing to do.

You arrived twenty-five minutes early - which is on-the-dot on time in the acting world. Joe wasn’t there when you arrived. Or ten minutes after you did. Or five minutes after that.The anticipation of Joe’s arrival was turning your stomach into knots. He was usually punctual. Surely, he wasn’t tardy because of you.

“Any word from Joe?” The director mumbled to his assistant. 

“Haven’t heard from him,” they replied.

You began to worry. Was he skipping out on the table read because he didn’t want to see you? Had his avoidance of you gone that far? He’d have to get over it eventually. He had a contract to fulfill. Just as you began your descent into a catastrophizing spiral, the clock struck eleven and Joe jogged into the room - beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “So sorry,” he panted. “Traffic was terrible.”

“It’s okay, we wouldn’t get started without our golden boy,” David teased. “I hear he’s up for sexiest man alive this year.”

Joe blew a short raspberry in response.

“Alright, alright, let’s get right into it, shall we? From the top of episode one.” The director chirped, no doubt relieved that he didn’t have to read Joe’s lines for him. “Interior. The Henderson bedroom. John and Jane Henderson lie in bed, covered only by their silk bed sheets. They’re snuggled up together. Post-coitus is implied.”

Say sike right now. You had never done a scene like this with Joe before. Never! The Henderson’s didn’t even have a scene like this in their honeymoon episode.

Of course this would be the first scene on the first day back after your first time seeing Joe after your first kiss. It was fan service. Every girl, guy, and person wanted to see more of Joe’s skin these days. But why did you have to be dragged into it?

You turned to look Joe in the eyes as you would have at any other table reading. Normal. This is normal. Business as usual. But it didn’t feel as easy as it was before. At first, you struggled to make eye contact and when you finally did, the intensity of his gaze made you blush a bit. Only a bit. The show must go on.

“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he scooped the line off the page and met your gaze again. 

God, the script writing was really going downhill this season, huh?

You sighed contently as the script dictated. “You’re tellin’ me!”

The whole cast chuckled.

The rest of the table read went on without a single hitch. After the ice was broken, things weren’t nearly as awkward as you dreaded they would be. The cast went through the entire table read five times before the lunch break. The first thing you did with your free time was approach Joe.

“You didn’t call.”

“Neither did you."

Fair, but not really because Joe was the one with a booming career and Joe was the one everyone tuned in to the show for and Joe was the one with most of the power in this dynamic and Joe was the one who initiated the kiss and infinitely many other reasons that he was to blame came to mind before you finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t call Joe because you were afraid of the possibility of rejection. What if you followed up only to find out that he wasn’t interested in you? Your low-self esteem convinced you that reaching out to a person like Joe was asking for embarrassment.

“So what now?” The rough exterior melted, revealing the vulnerable little girl inside that just wanted a boy to like her back.

“Well, that’s up to you,” he shrugged.

Not necessarily the answer you wanted. You just stared him down until he said more things.

“If it was just a drunken kiss, I understand. We’ll never speak of it again. We’ll keep things professional.”

“And if it wasn’t?” You murmured while making sure to avoid eye contact lest you be made a fool of for saying that.

“If it wasn’t… I’d like you to have dinner with me," he blushed. "Some time. If you… I dunno if you have free time- Well, of course you have free time, but I meant- If you want to have dinner,” he stammered and stuttered.

“I’d love to.”

Joe sighed in relief. “Great. Do you like Italian?” He smiled a bashful, closed lipped smile and it made the corners of his big, brown eyes crinkle.

“I love Italian.”

“I know a spot in the lower east side near Ludlow. Friday at eight? I’ll pick you up if you like.” God, his eyes.

The submissive in you wished he would stop worrying about what you like and make you do what he liked. The romantic in you found his sheepishness so charming.

“I’d like that,” you beamed.

Taglist: @thefrontofmymind, @bejeweled13swiftie

[keeponquinning]

Okay but like... I don't drink, I'm not a drinker....

But i have spent the majority of the day just imagining being at a bar with Joe... rpf ahead. 18+.

Imagine, of course, sitting between his manspreading legs, even though there are plenty of seats available, but he insists you're sitting there so he can wrap his arms around you, kissing your neck and cheek, and as every drink that passes his lips and down his throat, the kisses get more sloppy. The hands wander more.

You're making each other laugh the whole night and while paying attention to those around you, the focus always ends up on each other.

You feed him sometimes, be it just a chip / crisp or actual food, like, "Baby you have to try this" and he's just taking it, and when you see a bit at the corner of his mouth, you move your thumb and he's like, "No. Not like that."

You're confused at first, but then it clicks, and your smile grows wide and you reject it at first. But he's being so cute and giving you the puppy dog eyes, that you do. Grasping the side of his cheek and moving your lips, licking the corner of his mouth that then just turns into a kiss between you two...

Everyone hollering around you, teasing the fuck out of you two because you two are, frankly, disgustingly cute and you both flip them off without even breaking away from your kiss.

Drunken make outs happen throughout the night, especially right outside the bar, he went out for a smoke and you just wanted air, but he sees the opportunity and ditches the smoke and pulls you close to him, against the wall, lips to lips. "Just trying to warm you up, love, I promise..." he muttered against your lips and you let out a whine but let him. It does make you forget the chill of the air, tasting the liquor off his tongue and though you're not much for drinking, there is an addiction when it's off your boyfriend's tongue.

you end the night early, of course, to the groans and boos of the group you came with, but Joe makes a point of saying you're both tired.

but, once you're alone, together, kiss after kiss, desperation filling you. a trail of clothes leading straight to his bed... sleep doesn't happen until a few hours into the night, when curses of pleasure and cries that sound like prayers leave both of your lips. teeth marks showing on each other's skin, sweat glistens your bodies and he's uttering the most filth you've ever heard him say. sounding like sweet poetry, whispering that you're his, he's claimed you, and you promise him that no one will ever feel as good inside you than he does.

and he does claim you. fills you deeper than any other had ever done. and it makes him happy, when you beg for more.

it's only when your limbs are entangled together, the flush heat of your skin pressed one another, your fingers stroking his curls and his hooded eyes look at you as if you were the greatest thing that ever happened to him. and you are. he'll say it a thousand times until you believe, until you stop looking at him as if he was mad. soft kisses, warm smiles, gentle touches of adoration...that's when the sleep comes. and he always holds you a bit tighter.

[lovejosephquinn]

Don't mind me, just writing my morning Christmas Eve horny thoughts down 💀

Under 18's DNI.

It was quite obviously the middle of the night, the darkness surrounded you tucked up in bed with your boyfriend. You stirred from the sound of muffled whimpers beside you, the slight sound of movement beneath the quilt. Keeping your eyes shut and listening for a minute, you hear what seems to be spit being lathered onto the length of Joe's cock, he smoothers it down from the base and upward making his body tense up, a slight hitch of a moan loudly erupts from his throat and your eyes shoot open as you start to feel the way his fist pumps slowly up and down. Fuck.

You're turned on your side facing him so you edge forward so your mouth's inches away from his ear. "You need some help baby?" You whispered in a low, seductive tone. Joe could feel your presence, a smirk falling onto his features as he felt your hand creep over his, enveloping around his fingers, moving with him. "I d-didn't want to wake you and I couldn't stop thinking about the way your tight little cunt feels when I fuck you." Joe muttered, the deep resonance of his voice showed he had been asleep, but had clearly woke up with a stiff and incredibly hard erection, fantasising about you.

"Let me touch you." Joe's hand instantly released his shaft into yours, you spat onto your hand quickly and mixed your spit into his, skimming your finger tip over his leaking head, Joe bit down on his lip, crumbling underneath the soft touch. "Fuck Y/N, yeah touch me like that."

Your fist now gripped around his length, feeling every vein popping out, enjoying the way his hardness twitched in your contact. Jerking his cock in a swift, fast motion. You stopped. "B-baby don't stop."

"I'm not." You exited downward, the sheets devouring you as you took the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking harshly, making his hips buck up and a couple more inches entering your mouth.

"Mmm, you're such a naughty girl, suck my cock for me." Joe's head fell backward, his eyes rolling, his mouth gaping open as you didn't waste a moment in taking every inch of him inside, his hand grabbed your hair, pushing it up into a ponytail whilst saliva leaked out of the corners of your mouth, the moment you felt the tip hit your tonsils, your choking noises cloaked from the bed covers, the movement of your head sliding up and down. You moved down to his balls, caressing them with your tongue, nibbling on the loose skin and taking them one by one in your mouth, sucking rampantly and slipping them out with a pop sound.

Licking a stripe up from the base and back to the tip, Joe could barely hold on not a few minutes longer. "Let me fuck that slutty little mouth, my cock's aching to cum down that throat of yours. You want my cum baby?"

You smiled against his tip, your lips brushing and he could feel you nodding slightly. "Good fucking girl, open your mouth wide."

You did just as he said and his hand pushed you downward in one fell swoop, your eyes watered as he took you to your limit, gagging against the base of his cock, your tongue lapping around it, Joe's moans were flying everywhere which made you hum with your mouth full. "Yes, yes, yes. Take my cock, take my fucking cock."

His hips thrusted upward, deepthroating you only once more until his cock began to spew pools of cum into your mouth, trickling down your throat as you swallowed the lot, his hand releasing you whilst you rid him through his high, his body spasming, toes curling and within the darkness, Joe could see stars in his vision.

You came back up to where you previously lay. "Thank you my love." His lips found yours amongst the pitch black, tasting the saltiness on your tongue, his cock softening yet still throbbing from the intensity of the orgasm you unleashed upon him.

"Turn over, I need my little spoon." Joe moved his arms around you, caging you to him, a slight sigh of contentment fell from his mouth, he could go back to sleep happily knowing that when he woke again, his cock would probably be buried inside your cunt, fucking up into your walls fast and erratically, hearing the memory of your moans as you attacked his neck when he leaned down to thrust hard, he'd let his imagination begin to run wild once again until that moment came.

[pedgito]

thinking about eddie and his obsessive care for his own hair and always asking you to hold it back for him during sex because he refuses to tie it up or cut it (18+ minors dni, i just wanted to write some eddie smut, it's been too long)

cw: lots of banter, unprotected sex, breeding kink (if you squint), this was just an excuse for me to write in length about his hair don't judge me.

you mention it on a night when he keeps pushing his hair away from his face, bangs getting a little too long for his liking as he shrugs his eyebrows in an attempt to shift it away from his eyes without being obvious. you laugh softly to yourself, poking his thigh with your toes from the other end of the couch.

“i can trim it, if you want.” you suggest, nodding toward his annoyance. his pupils shift upwards, nearly disappearing as he looks toward the mess of hair on his head. “or is that, like, off limits after last time?”

and to be fair, eddie couldn’t remember back to when he got a real haircut outside of taking a pair of tiny scissors to his bangs, praying he didn’t fuck them up and go too short.

he’d sworn off the idea of hat hair, so that was out of the question. eddie didn’t like to admit, but he cared immensely about his hair—always used the right products, the ones that were good for curls. he’s listened, time and time again, to take care of what lacking curl pattern he has left.

he doesn’t go for the two in one—never even thinking about grabbing for the three, it was the one unwritten rule. he’s got a special pair of shampoo and conditioner separate from wayne’s, washes about twice a week unless his shows get a little more crazy than intended, washing away the sweat and grime as much as he could.

he was known for being dirty—hell, his bedroom was a clear example of it, but after dedicating so much time to his hair and where it was now—he wasn’t that naive.

eddie doesn’t like to admit it, though.

but you realize fairly quickly that eddie really, really cares—a lot more than he lets on.

"i think i could go a few more weeks," eddie argues sweetly, noticing the quizzical look on your face, "i mean, it's not a problem yet."

"you stopping in the middle of sex to push your hair out of your face every thirty seconds is a problem," you counter, all in good nature as eddie laughs to himself, "and your hair ending up in my mouth--"

"okay, okay—" eddie interjects, "later, you can have your way with it."

and eddie trusts you enough to know you won't mess it up, just a little trim around his face and his bangs and cleaning up the ends—you've only done it once before and that was after week and weeks of bargaining. eddie eventually caved. and he didn’t hate it either.

but despite your obvious disdain from earlier, eddie still pounces on you the moment you both crawl into his bed that night, crowding your naked body underneath him as he slips inside you easily, a heavy sigh that mixes together from both of you.

he's got his head tilted down, eyes connecting with the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with every pointed thrust he makes, mumbling something to himself quietly—

"hey," you nudge a finger at his cheek gently, slightly out of breath as you speak, "talkin' to yourself again?"

"sorry," he laughs deeply, "just—admiring the view."

you grin shyly, finger grazing his chin until he looks up at you, "well, i can't admire the view if i can't see your face, you know?"

because his hair is a perfect shield in moments like these, the locks curtaining his face.

"i've got a spare tie," you tell him, wiggling your wrist subtly, hoping he'd give in—just this once, "i know you hate them but--"

"just hold my hair back," eddie suggests, "you're always grabbing on it anyways."

you snort quietly, laughing to yourself.

"i'm not really in a hair pulling mood, eddie," you tell him, his hand reaching for your own despite that, "i mean, i know how much you love it—"

eddie brings the hair on the other side of his head to the side your hand is covering, allowing you to bunch it up in your hand as he adjusts himself slightly, thighs spreading on the sheets beneath you, and in turn, forcing your legs even further apart.

you gasp sharply, noting the sneaky grin eddie sports for a brief moment, his palms braced at your sides as he fucks into you once, twice, thrusts unrelenting and harsh as he bows his head again, this time giving you an unobscured view.

his jaw is tense where he's biting down, eyebrows threading together at the concentration he holds, breathing out forcefully through his nose as his pace quickens even more.

and if you had words, they were lost in your brain—feeling completely mindless as eddie slips a hand under your biceps, soothing the ache that grew from the angle your arm was in. you didn't care, because the look on his face was insurmountable to any discomfort you could feel.

"fuck, look at that," eddie encourages, eyes flicking up towards you briefly before trailing back down past your stomach, his free hand coming to rest against the joint of your hips, thumb pressed against your pubic bone. he's leaning over you heavily, his head nearly resting against the wall his bed was shoved up against, "—shit, i know you can hear it, swear you were made for me, sweetheart."

eddie laughs darkly at the slight tug on his hair as he switches angles, adjusting your hips up slightly so it hits deeper, aches with every thrust and you can't hold it together, eyes squeezing shut in an effort to regain your composure, but eddie's mission tonight was to be nothing short of difficult.

he leans down, lips touching your neck, breath ghosting over the skin as he speaks, "wish you could feel this," eddie groans, "feel how warm you are around me—so fuckin' tight too."

you breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh before eddie's lips are latching onto your neck, teeth digging in the skin lightly as he bites.

"no marks," you argue weakly, "we talked about this."

"sorry, baby," he apologizes softly, though it's far from genuine, "i'm so sorry."

and he can feel how close he is, the deep coil in his stomach tightening as he pulls you closer, your hands reaching up absently to cradle his face, finger tips slipping into his hair as you push it away, his lips parted and a deep, vibrant pink from how flushed he is, cheeks tinged a similar color. he's got a sheen of sweat over his forehead and his bangs are clinging there, slightly askew as he leans down, pressing it against your own.

"you're not," you reply quietly, tone harboring a moan that you wouldn't let slip, "fuck—i know you're not, eddie."

he chuckles brokenly, silently slipping his hand away from your bicep to cradle the mound of your cunt, his middle finger grazing over your clit in hurry, waiting for your subtle nod before letting go.

"gonna come with me, yeah?" eddie asks, slightly encouraging, his thrusts a little less rhythmic as he slows down to match your pace.

you nod with little energy, breath hiccuping as eddie applies more pressure, feeling your vision white out when you come, head tilting up as your back arches, riding out your orgasm against his hand, his eyes never once leaving your face, not even as he comes too, a deep and guttural groan as he's spilling inside you, mumbling the filthiest stuff imaginable, your face going hot at the words.

"so cute when you take my cum like that, sweetheart," eddie says softly, kissing the pulse at the side of your neck, the blood thumping underneath his lips, "—you can let go of my hair now."

you laugh weakly, chest heaving at the action as your arms fall limp, body overtaken by the exhaustion over your orgasm.

"i'll make you a deal," you start, catching his curious gaze as he looks up at you, forearms resting against the sheets as he hovers above you, "let me tame this," you point at his wild hair, mused from your hands, "and you can do as much of that as you want."

eddie huffs out a laugh, head falling in embarrassment. he couldn't help how easy it was to lose all sense of moral obligations and disregard actual real life consequences when it came to you—specifically you and sex, but he nods nonetheless, agreeing to your terms.

"we're so lucky you're on birth control," eddie jokes, "i'm sure there'd be a billion of me running around at this point."

you shrug, a smile stretching over your face.

"just a bunch of crazy little rambunctious toddlers with untamable hair," you consider, catching the smile glimpse of his teeth as he grins, "that doesn't sound too bad."

and he isn't even in the realm of thinking about kids, but the idea is nice, a thought that could help him escape from his own worrying.

"now," you announce softly, "shower, clippers, then bed. got it?"

eddie chuckles, falling against your dramatically as he groans loudly.

"yes, ma'am."

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[harrywavycurly]

Texting Joseph Quinn Part 23: Fandom

Masterlist: Here

A/N: This was fun and I’m so sorry yall have had to wait so long for an update but I hope you enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day!💖

[icallhimjoey]

please bestie i want some soft love that's so second nature joe doesnt even have his attention with you whilst he gives it, please can you write something like that?

im not allowed to write right now because work and stress and boundaries and mental health etc etc so 🥰fuck you🥰 for this Wordcount: 1.8K

---

Cotton Soft Touches Gentle Voices Smooth

“What are you doing?”

You barely even heard Joe ask the question from across the room. You were so buried in whatever was happening on TV, focus completely zoomed in, mind somewhere else entirely. It took Joe another try for you to register the question directed at you.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” you turned your head to Joe before your eyes followed and for a moment, you just slowly blinked at him. Something about his face combined with the fact that it really took you a minute to find yourself back in the room made you smile. You were so cosy.

“Watching TV.” you answered innocently, because you were, eyes back on the screen already.

You were warmly nestled into the sofa, curled up, knees pulled in, all comfortable in your white ribbed cotton pyjamas. The throwpillows and blankets on the sofa created the perfect nest for you to happily curl up into.

Snug.

Soft ambient light from several lamps placed in strategic corners lit up the room just enough. If you stood and opened the curtains a bit more, you could still catch the faint and fading oranges of the sunset.

You were shower fresh, limbs covered by white clean cotton, nose still a little cold from the difference in temperature after getting out of the hot stream, and wet hair cool where it touched your skin.

But you felt so warm.

So fucking cosy.

When you’d walked back into the living room post shower, skin glossy and wet hair brushed back, Joe had installed himself at the dinner table with his laptop and a notebook.

He’d cleared away the mess from dinner and had turned his spot into a desk.

“Just need to do these e-mails,” he said after you’d let your arms curl around him from behind, arms that he grabbed hold of for a second, and you kissed the top of his head.

“Will only be a minute.”

You’d left him to it then, not minding that Joe had some work to do, just happy that he was in the same room instead of hidden away in what he called the office and you called the guest bedroom.

The ‘only a minute’ easily turned into an hour plus. Joe kept busy on both his computer and his phone, and would sometimes scribble some things down onto paper. There was a phone call or two, just quick “Sorry to call so late, but have you seen the...” and, “Hey, yea, I'm just reading it now, can I call you back in a minute?” type things.

Joe became background noise to you the second you snuggled up, and similarly the low sounds coming from the TV were just a nice reminder that Joe wasn’t alone.

But then, halfway through typing a response to an e-mail, something in Joe’s peripheral vision caught his attention.

Something moving slowly.

A little rhythmically.

When he peeked over his laptop screen and saw his girlfriend looking just about the most comfortable she’d ever looked, he didn’t even think you were aware that you were doing it.

In your layers of soft cream fabrics, head slumped to the side, Joe saw how you let your fingers softly skim over the area below your ear. They danced in circles and lines by your jaw, onto your cheek just a little before trailing back to your neck and—

That was what Joe always did.

That’s where Joe let his fingers draw shapes.

He would brush some hair from your face and would then let his fingertips linger, and it always made you hum. Made you relax. Gave you tingles that made your hearing go funny for a second.

Joe watched you lazily self soothe, and after a moment he decided that he’d actually done enough work. He could finish this e-mail tomorrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Watching TV.”

Your eyes were back on the screen before Joe could’ve even said anything about how you were touching yourself.

It was nothing sexual - not really. Not what he was witnessing right now anyway. He imagined it just felt nice.

He closed his laptop and got up from his seat, and without looking away from the TV, you moved to make space for Joe next to you, knowing he’d make his way over to press himself into your side.

Joe smiled as you moved blankets aside but kept that one hand near your ear, index finger mapping out your hairline towards the nape of your neck and back.

Instead of sitting down though, Joe pushed a knee into the sofa right next to your thigh and placed his fingers right were yours were, pushing them aside.

“I do this,” Joe said as he hovered over you, and you grinned as you let your head fall to the side more. “This is my job.”

Joe tickled his fingers along your soft skin, fresh and clean from the shower, and it only took a few seconds for you to sigh into his touch.

It was nicer when Joe did it.

“S’nice?” Joe murmured, still with just one knee on the sofa, and you hummed, eyes closed, nodding.

“Is nicer when you do it.”

“Yea?”

Joe leant forward to press a kiss to your cheek, getting you just under your eye, and then he moved to sit down next to you.

After a shuffle of throws, pillows, and limbs, you found yourself under Joe’s arm, curled up into his side.

You were comfortable before, but this would always be infinitely better.

“Hmm, you smell nice.” Joe commented after taking a moment to press his nose into your still damp hair.

“Yea? What do I smell like? Shampoo?” you whispered, voice not wanting to be any louder.

Joe easily bit, taking the invitation to get another real good whiff of you, his whole face now pressing into the crook of your neck.

You relished the attention, feeling fuzzy on the inside, heat blooming in your chest.

“Yea, sort of lemony… all fresh and clean.”

You blushed and were unable to hide your smile as you settled together for some TV watching, warm bodies pressed together, always fitting just right somehow.

Joe’s arm rested on the back of the sofa and bent around your head just right for his fingers to play. To touch the skin around your ear like you’d been doing before. To lightly trail and leave goosebumps down your whole body.

You could easily fall asleep like this, legs intertwined, head on his chest.

You lazily watched TV in silence for a while and if Joe was going to keep up the barely there shapes drawn down your neck you knew you actually would fall asleep.

It was becoming difficult to keep your eyes open, every blink a comfortable invitation to just keep them closed, but then the soft buzzing of Joe’s phone pulled you both from your haze.

Joe had your earlobe in between his fingers when he answered, and for a moment you were fully expecting him to get up. Move to where his laptop lay shut to open it once more to maybe finish something he hadn’t yet.

But when you tried to sit up a little for Joe to slip out of this cocoon you’d created, you felt his arm tense. He wasn’t letting go of the soft skin of your ear and to make sure you stayed put, he bent a leg to keep yours in place.

“It’s past ten, mate,” Joe answered and although you didn’t know who was calling him, just from his tone of voice you knew it wasn’t work related.

Joe gently rubbed your earlobe between his fingers and it felt so nice, it turned the world blurry as you unfocused your eyes.

When you relaxed back into him, sinking into the line of his body, Joe tilted his head down to look at you, barely catching your little smile but happy to see you were still enticed by whatever was happening on TV.

You weren’t though.

Not really.

Because as Joe spoke, he let his fingers continue what they’d been doing and if he thought you were able to try to follow his conversation as well as what you were watching whilst he made you melt with his touch, he was wrong.

You were bad at multitasking on a good day, and you knew Joe was too. The fact that he was somehow able to keep you lax and floating whilst simultaneously being mentally present for this phone call was impressive.

Joe laughed through casual conversation with a friend who had some questions about future plans they’d made. Their chat quickly turned into a hey-now-that-I’ve-got-you-on-the-phone catch up.

The low vibrations from his smooth voice were nice. You felt them where your face rested on his chest and relished in the tender love you were receiving that felt like a second nature sort of thing.

“No, I’m just at home. Watching TV.”

Not being mentioned suddenly made Joes fingers feel a little scandalous. Like the person on the phone wasn’t allowed to know you were there and how he was making you feel right now.

It got a little worse when you felt how Joe let his fingers trail down your neck to disappear into your pyjama top where they slowly caressed over your collarbone.

Your voice let a little noise escape when his hand snuck back up again, finding its way into your hair, and Joe chuckled lowly.

You let yourself balance on the borders of consciousness, half asleep with thoughts so far removed from where you were, yet half laser focused on Joe’s fingers and where they tickled your skin.

Unsure of when you’d drifted off, or when Joe had finished his phone call, the next thing you registered was a soft and low far away, “Have I done a plait?” that pulled you back into the room a little more.

With your eyes still closed you reached a heavy hand up to feel what was essentially just a twirled strand of hair, not a plait at all.

You couldn’t hide the little smile that spread at how adorable you thought it was that Joe’d just been playing with your hair and thought he’d actually done something.

He hadn’t.

He just made you feel loved, which was actually far better than a plait.

“Mhm,” you hummed approvingly, snuggling up into Joe more, understanding that it was likely much smarter to just get up and find your way into bed, but you’d quite literally never been more comfortable before.

“I’ve done a plait.” Joe whispered, gleefully proud of himself and making sure that you knew, that you’d heard him, give him some praise.

“Well done.” You lied, because he’d not done a plait, but that was okay.

You weren’t going to shoot yourself in the foot, because you were about to sink back into sleep and there was just one thing that’d make you feel even more comfortable.

That would send you right back off into sleep.

 “Do another.”

---

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