#joe quinn fanfic
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♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot
Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...
Wordcount: 2.7K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
One of those days.
You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,
“peperoni or chicken?”
And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.
“those my only two options?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.
“joe”
There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.
“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”
No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.
“peperoni or chicken?”
“chicken”
You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.
“no i was wrong.”
“peperoni”
The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.
“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.
“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.
Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.
“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”
Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.
He’d been right.
That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.
“You look like the inside of a shoe,”
Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.
What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?
You needed your bed.
Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.
You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.
From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.
“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”
All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.
“What happened?”
But you didn’t want to get into it.
“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”
And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?
“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?”
You milled it over in your mind.
“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”
Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.
“Some pizza?”
And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.
He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.
“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”
You looked right past him.
“What... what kind of pizza?”
You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.
“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”
You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.
And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.
But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.
Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.
He hadn’t asked you any questions.
Not when you cried.
Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.
Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.
Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.
Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.
Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.
“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”
And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.
You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.
Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.
And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.
And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.
Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.
Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.
Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.
It was what he wanted, anyway.
He was well aware that none of that was normal though.
You were flatmates.
If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.
Flatmates.
But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.
Normal.
Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?
And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.
Why would they even assume?
You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.
Normal.
What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.
You never talked about it.
It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.
But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.
It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.
Which was fine.
You lived together.
There was plenty of time without other people there.
When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
“Joe?”
“Hey, bad news,”
Oh no.
Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.
“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”
You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.
“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.
“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”
You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.
“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.
You blinked at him a second.
“You’re not sorry.”
“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”
You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”
Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.
You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.
“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.
You grinned to yourself.
Joe was an idiot.
In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.
Sprite.
“Surprise.”
Joe had lied.
Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?
“I know it’s not your genre...”
It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.
You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,”
“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”
And so you did.
Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.
The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.
You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.
“You cold?”
“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.
Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.
The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.
See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?
Nothing was going on between the two of you.
Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.
So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?
So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?
So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?
Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.
But you never talked about it.
You were just close.
No questions asked.
Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#icallhimjoey
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choose your character 🎮
#joseph quinn#eddie munson#stranger things#joe quinn#eddie stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#joseph quinn x reader#eddie x reader#joequinn#josephquinn#st4#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn smut#joseph quinn imagine#eddie munson edit#daleyeahson
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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.
#joseph quinn imagine#joe quinn imagine#joseph quinn blurb#joe quinn blurb#joe quinn fanfic#joequinn#josephquinn#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joe quinn x reader#joesph quinn#joseph quinn fic#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x fem!reader#joseph quinn x female reader#joe quinn x y/n#joe quinn x you#joe quinn smut#joe quinn fluff#joe quinn angst#joseph quinn headcanons#joe quinn request#joseph quinn angst#joseph quinn fan fiction#chocolate button eyes
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Let Me Take Care of You
Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader
Summary: I couldn't stop thinking about how that man needed someone to take care of him after such a long day. And I know how much he cares about his fans. He was so kind but toward the end, everybody was rushed, and I have no doubt he wished he could have taken more time. So, fic idea popped into my head because...yeah, he looked so damn good on Sunday. You're dating Joe and after the chaos of the day, you just want to help your man.
18+ only
The hotel room door opened and in came Joe, looking absolutely drained and exhausted. It had been a whirlwind of a weekend. The U.S. Embassy had misplaced his passport and he almost missed the con in Philly, disappointing thousands of fans. At the last minute, everything worked out, but he’d had to cram three days worth of autographs and photo ops into one day, showing up early and staying late. You’d offered to tag along but he’d insisted on you relaxing as you’d had a late flight the night before and he had his friend, Ollo, there to be by his side throughout the day. Joe was also nervous how his fans might treat you if they found out he was seeing someone. The two of you had kept it under wraps the last few months when you’d seen how some of the fandom had treated Grace. It was awful that someone so sweet had to deal with that kind of toxicity.
You knew Ollo would take care of Joe, making sure he hydrated, got something to eat, and at least got a couple of smoke breaks to keep his nerves steady. But that didn’t stop you from worrying all day. You’d been checking your phone, seeing all the photos people were posting. It hadn’t gone without notice that as the day wore on, Joe’s smile wasn’t quite as wide, those eyes weren’t quite as soft as usual.
You set your phone down, sitting up as he let out a large sigh, dropping onto the edge of the bed in front of you. You gripped the leather jacket in your hands, sliding it down his arms and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. Using your fingers, you kneaded the tense muscles of his shoulders, relishing the pleased groan he released. Your fingers continued, moving along his back and you rested your chin gently on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Joe’s hand came to cradle your cheek, his thumb running over your jaw.
“Long day, baby?” you asked.
“The longest,” he answered. “We managed to get everyone done but as the day wore on, they were making me rush. I felt so bad because I couldn’t chat with people or do the poses they wanted. They were telling people no hugs. I feel like they left disappointed.”
“Oh Joe, no,” you assured him, your thumb pressing into a tight knot you felt in his low back. “Your fans understand. I saw so many of the posts today and they were so grateful they had the chance to see you, that you managed to make it even if it was for one day. They understood. None of this was your fault. It sucks that you had to rush people but if you didn’t, everyone might not have gotten their chance to see you.”
“I know, darling. I just hate feeling like I didn’t give them a great experience. And it was such a long day…”
“Did you get a lunch break?”
“Yes, I did,” Joe chuckled, tilting his head, resting it against yours. “I ate, love, no worries. Ollo kept checking in on how much water I was drinking. I got three smoke breaks. It was just a lot. The panel actually felt like a break. I got to sit on a couch and have a good chat. They asked about the Kas theory again.”
You laughed, “Of course they did. Your fans want you back for season five badly. I’m sorry it was such a long day. I know this isn’t how you wanted it, but I am glad Ollo took care of you. Him and I would be having words if not.”
“I have no doubt, my sweet girl. Everyone took very good care of me today.”
“Mmm…well, maybe, but I haven’t had my turn.”
“You’re taking care of me right now,” Joe insisted. “Thank you for the back rub. Standing on that concrete was killer by the end of the day.”
“Oh, I think I can do more than that. My poor boy needs to relax,” you crooned, winding your arms around him, pulling him until he was lying back on the bed. You straddled him, your knees cradling his thighs. “Let me help you relax.”
Joe’s eyebrows raised, a smirk appearing on those sweet, full lips, “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, bringing your lips to his.
His arms locked around you, crushing your body against his. Your tongue slid along his bottom lip and he caught it with his lips, gently sucking before slipping his tongue along yours, eliciting a gentle moan. You rocked your hips, rubbing your core along his length, your tongue exploring his mouth, loving the sounds of pleasure that rumbled up from his chest.
“Let’s lose this shirt,” you whispered, sitting up and pulling the plain black tee over his head, tossing it across the room.
“And what about your shirt?”
“This isn’t about me right now,” you grinned, your lips tracing the line of his jaw, down the side of his neck. Jesus, he smelled like heaven. “I'm taking care of you, remember?” Your lips continued their path, over his collarbone, nipping gently, his hips thrusting up into yours, creating delicious friction against your already pulsing center.
“Seeing your tits would take care of me. Nothing makes me happier than your jubblies smothering my face.”
“Uh-uh…not yet, my beautiful boy. You just lay back and relax. Let me do all the work tonight.”
You placed open mouthed kisses over his chest, teeth grazing over his nipples. His hand cradled the back of your neck, a low growl falling from his lips. As your tongue flicked over one nipple and then the other, your fingers worked his belt and then the button on his jeans. You continued to slide down his body, placing your feet on the floor. Your tongue followed a path over his abdomen, following the trail of coarse hairs that led right where you intended to go as you gripped his jeans and boxers at the same time, dragging them down his legs and over his feet until he was completely bare to you, his cock standing at attention, pre-cum glistening along the tip.
Kneeling down in between his legs, you gently raked your nails over his thighs and his hips rolled towards you in response, his body letting you know exactly what he needed. Your tongue darted out, capturing the salty release that had already collected.
“Fuck, darling…” he hissed. “Don’t tease. Please.”
“No worries, baby. I am going to help ease all your stress.”
You wrapped your lips around him, working his length, taking as much of him as your throat would allow. He grunted deeply, one hand tangling in your hair as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock scratching the back of your throat. Wrapping your hand around the base, you moved along him, using your mouth and hand, pleasure shooting to your core as you listened to this beautiful man coming undone because of what you were doing to him.
Sometimes you pinched yourself because you could not believe he was all yours. But here he was, completely at your mercy, groaning, gasping, writhing, and you were the cause of it. You were the one who could help him, who could ease his stress, who could make him feel good. It was a goddamn high.
“Bloody hell…so sodding good…don’t stop, love…just like that…” he panted.
Your other came up to cradle his balls, rolling them along your palm like a pair of dice. Joe growled low, the hand in your hair tightening, pulling, his other hand slamming down against the mattress. Your tongue ran along each side of his cock before taking him fully in your mouth again as you tugged down gently on his balls, squeezing them gently, applying just the right amount of pressure.
“Fuck!” Joe shrieked, bucking up into your mouth as he held your face tightly against him, his release flooding your mouth. His entire body shook beneath you as he went rigid, helpless grunts and moans rolling out of him.
As he relaxed, you carefully released him from your mouth, swallowing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Standing, you smiled down at him, holding his eyes with yours as you slowly removed your shirt, followed by your shorts and panties until you were naked in front of him. Joe’s eyes traveled the length of you, devouring you with his gaze, sending a shock of desire straight to your center, pulsing with need.
You crawled over the top of his body and his hands immediately fell upon you, roaming over your sides, your hips, the curves of your breasts. He grabbed your hips, sliding you up his body until your breasts were directly over his face and then he buried himself between them, deeply moaning, his hands pressing them together against his face.
“Fuck, I love these tits,” he sighed, his mouth exploring every inch, tongue and teeth teasing your nipples into hard little buds.
“Joe,” you breathed, sliding your wetness over his cock until it was hard, ready to go once again. The feel of his erection pressing against your clit had you whimpering, eager for him to fill you.
His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb moving over your clit and you gasped, back arching as you pressed your hands against his chest, sitting up. Joe started with slow circles, moving faster and faster until you were gasping for breath.
“So wet already, darling and I barely did anything for you.”
“Taking care of you works me up,” you breathed, struggling to speak against the intense pleasure coursing through your body as his circles grew smaller, focusing right on your pleasure button. “The way you sound…knowing I can do that…it’s so damn hot. Fuck, I need your cock.”
Reaching between you, you grabbed his cock, lowering yourself onto him slowly until your pelvises were flush together. The two of you moaned simultaneously as you began to slowly rotate your hips in a circle, his cock hitting all the right places that had your stomach tensing, already so close as his thumb continued working magic on you.
“Shit, darling…that’s so good,” Joe praised. “I love watching you ride me.” His free hand caressed your face, thumb running over your lower lip and you caught it between your lips, sucking it into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
You sighed, releasing his thumb as you rocked back and forth, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as you picked up the pace. Joe’s chest rose and fell heavily as he quickly raced toward another climax, his cock twitching within you as you rolled over him. His thumb began moving back and forth, faster over your clit, and you knew he was determined to get you to cum before he did.
“Come on, my beautiful girl,” he urged, one hand now gripping your hip as he moved with you. “Cum for me, darling. Let me see how fucking beautiful you are when you let go.”
“Joe…I…fuck!” you cried, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as you shuddered on him, your climax crashing over you.
“That’s it…yes, love,” he grunted, gripping both of your hips, thrusting up into you hard, taking over as you lost all control, moaning his name over and over. Joe’s fingertips dug into your flesh as he held you against him, filling you with his release. “Jesus Christ, darling…” He sighed, falling back on the bed.
You fell forward onto his chest, nuzzling his neck, “Do you feel more relaxed, beautiful boy?”
“So relaxed,” he murmured sleepily. “Fuck, you took everything out of me, love.” His arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against your forehead. “I am going to sleep like a goddamn baby.”
“Good,” you replied, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll clean us up and tuck you all in.”
You went into the bathroom, getting a warm washcloth that you used to clean the two of you. Joe laid still, eyes closed, breathing deep as you gently wiped him. You tossed the washcloth back in the bathroom and then had to work to get him turned in the bed the right way as he was not much help. Your poor boy was so damn tired.
Laying down next to him, you pulled the blanket over both of you and he whimpered softly in his sleepy state, hands reaching out for you. Joe was a cuddler, always the big spoon. Smiling, you slid toward him with your back to him, those strong arms encasing you, pressing you against his chest, wrapping himself around your body. You sighed happily, burrowing into his arms, inhaling the soothing scent of your favorite person on this planet.
“I love you,” you whispered. “Good night.”
“Mmm…love you…” he mumbled. “Night love.”
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn stranger things#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn smut#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn x you#joe quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x you
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𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: dr. joseph quinn is set to speak at an important conference, and, of course, he invites you, his assistant, to come with him. after months of pining and flirting, what can go wrong when the hotel only books you one bed? part one of three
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: joseph quinn (professor!au) x fem!reader
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: rpf (real person fiction), drinking, praise kink, smut (MINORS DNI): kissing, heavy petting
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: big thanks to @lunatictardis for her help with this fic! you're the best mea! also this was TOTALLY inspired by his professor vibes on day 3 of fanexpo nola hehe
“I’m really glad you asked me to come with you.”
That roused Dr. Quinn out of his sleepy reading. The plane around you was pretty quiet, although gaining volume the imminent descent, but that didn’t stop Dr. Joseph Quinn from blinking blearily as he looked up from his pages of notes. He was set to lecture tomorrow morning, one of the opening lectures at a conference centered on English literature, and your professor— and boss— had insisted you come with him.
“Well, of course,” Dr. Quinn said quickly. He often chastised you for calling him Dr. Quinn, always saying “Call me Joe, love”, but nothing ever felt as right as Doc. Sometimes, during quiet, appreciative moments, you would call him Joseph, but Joe was a far-fetched dream. “You’re my assistant, I’d be crazy not to bring you.”
“But I’m just your TA,” you rebutted. “I’m not, like, a personal assistant or anything.”
“Eh,” Joseph shrugged. “Close enough.”
“But I’m glad you asked me,” you continued. It had taken a lot of convincing from him for you to even come— “it’s over Christmas holiday, so you won’t be missing any classes; the university will pay for airfare and the hotel; you have nothing to worry about, other than being there for me.”— but, in the end, you were being honest. “It’s the chance of a lifetime. I’m excited.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Joseph said. He groaned and rolled his neck and began to pack up his notes, sliding them into a pocket of his briefcase, and he mumbled, “I cannot wait for this bed. My back hurts from these damn seats.”
“Oh, yeah,” you groaned. The plane seats were less than optimal, and you chewed on your bottom lip. “And you booked us two rooms?”
“The university did,” Joseph said, peering at you from over his glasses. “So, if anything is fucked up, blame them.”
“I will,” you smiled. An ugly feeling persisted in your gut, though— something would go wrong, you were sure of it. You always had had a good intuition, and that sinking feeling was present as the intercom binged on and announced your arrival in London, far from your home.
There was a car waiting for you at the airport and, after getting your luggage, you squeezed in next to Joseph and gave him a tired smile. You were both exhausted from a long day of traveling, and you were just as much looking forward to the bed as he was. Maybe a hot shower, or even a bath, if your room had a bathtub.
You tailed behind Joseph as he entered the hotel once the car delivered you, and he gave the woman at the front desk a good-natured smile. Your boss was handsome, there was no denying it. He was so handsome that, if he wanted to be a movie star, he could have been. Instead, he had chosen to teach English literature, and, because of his— albeit short but prosperous— career, he had been asked to attend the conference and give a lecture on tragedies, something he had studied throughout his entire academic career.
“Hello there,” Joseph said to the receptionist. “Um, I have a reservation under the name Quinn.”
“Mr. Quinn,” the receptionist repeated, and she clicked on her computer for a moment. “Ah, yes, I see you— one room, king bed?”
“Oh, goodness.”
Oh goodness, indeed.
“No, no, there’s been a mistake,” your boss said quickly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He looked suddenly distraught, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the snafu. “There were supposed to be two rooms, one for me and one for my assistant.” He gestured at you, and your grip on the handle of your suitcase tightened.
You knew it. Your gut had told you once again that something would go wrong, and it had.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said. “We don’t have any other rooms; we’re all booked up for the conference. There’s a sleeper sofa in the room?”
Joseph clenched his back teeth and looked over his shoulder at you, and you shrugged. “I’ll be fine, sir,” you told him. “It’s just for two nights.”
“Yeah, but…” Joseph started, and he turned back to the receptionist. “There’s truly nothing you can do?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “We’re all booked up.”
Joseph sighed, his thumb tapping on the handle of his luggage. “It’s alright,” he said. “Thank you, darling.” He took the keycards from the receptionist’s waiting hand and slipped them into the pocket of his slacks, and he looked at you. “After you, love,” he said, and you sighed as you started out of the lobby, in search of the elevators.
Joseph only spoke again once you were alone in the elevator. “I’m really sorry,” he said.
You shrugged. “It’s out of your control,” you told him. “I’m not upset.”
“Are you sure?” Joseph asked. “Because it’s okay if you are. I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.”
“Oh, God, no,” you said quickly. “No, sir, this is your conference, you’re gonna be working all weekend, you deserve the bed.”
“But I can’t just let you sleep on the sofa,” Joseph said. Behind his glasses, his eyes were big, dark as night and wide as he pleaded with you. “Please, take the bed, it’ll make me feel better.”
The elevator dinged up to the fifth floor, and you took the charge, leading Joseph to room 525, the one that the receptionist had identified as yours.
You waited for Joseph to unlock the door, and the familiar smell of hotel room filled your nose as the door opened. The air was stale but clean, and you peered inside to see the one big, white-clothed bed, the indicated sleeper sofa under the window on the opposite side of the room. It looked uncomfortable, and you took a seat on it as Joseph settled his luggage next to it. The springs squeaked underneath you, and you frowned wider as you looked at it and realized that it was, in fact, not a sleeper sofa. It was just a regular couch, one hardly big enough to fit you, let alone Joseph. “This isn’t…” you started, but sighed instead. “I knew I had a bad feeling about this trip.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Joseph said with a scowl. “We’ll get this sorted out and everything will be alright. Maybe somebody will cancel a room and we can get it.”
“I know,” you mumbled. “But, God, I just… Sorry. In a bad mood.”
Joseph’s frown grew, and he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. He had always been like this, very tactile and sweet with you, but never crossing boundaries. You could tell that he truly appreciated your work as his TA, grading papers for him and sometimes leading class if he asked for you to, and he was always very thankful for you, sending you flowers and buying you coffee all the time. “Dr. Quinn, you know other professors don’t treat their TAs like this,” you had tried to tell him once, but he had just smiled at you. “I know,” he had responded with that movie star smile. “But other professors don’t appreciate their TAs the way I do you.”
Sometimes you wondered if there was more than met the eye with your boss, but there would be no avenue to explore that; he was your boss. Before he was your boss, he was your professor. It would be unprofessional at the very least and, if you were caught, you would lose your job (and likely your scholarships) and Joseph would more than likely be asked to leave the university. So, all of the lingering touches of his hand to yours and laughs shared over dinners would have to be relegated back into nothingness— no feelings, no actions, nothing.
“What can I do to fix this?” Joseph asked, his eyes a little wet as he looked at you. “I just hate seeing you so upset.”
“Maybe…” you started, chewing on your bottom lip. You were dehydrated from the flight, and your skin was dry, and you sighed. “Maybe we could share the bed? It’s big enough for both of us, and if we put, like, a pillow barrier in the middle…?”
“Oh, love,” Joseph said softly. “You know we can’t do that.”
“Who has to know?” you asked. “If we don’t tell anybody…”
You almost worried that you had offended him, with the way his silence stretched on and on, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told you that he was legitimately thinking about it. “Let’s talk about it more tonight,” Joseph said finally. “After dinner, yeah?”
“Alright,” you agreed. The way he didn’t immediately say no lifted your spirits slightly, and you stood up, brushing dust off of your skirt. “What’s for dinner?”
Joseph smiled at you, his movie star smile that made your legs nearly buckle, and he slotted his hand with yours. “Whatever you’d like.”
Dinner ended up being down in the hotel restaurant. It was a little busy, but you and Joseph managed to find a table for the two of you, nestled into the back corner. You almost preferred it that way, secluded and apart from everyone else. You and Joseph were used to dinner together— he often would order take-away to his office while you were helping grade essays, and you always would end up abandoning the essays and talking together— but never anything like this. The candlelight made everything feel intimate, like it was almost a date.
“Wine?” Joseph asked, looking down at the menu in his hands. He still wore the clothes he had worn on the plane, slacks and butter-yellow shirt, his hair messy and his glasses perched just so on his nose, and he looked exhausted, but he was the usual ball of composed energy that he always was.
You shrugged. “I don’t really like wine,” you told him. “But if you want some, go for it.”
“Don’t like wine?” Joseph repeated, his eyes playfully narrowing at you. “What sort of academic are you?”
“I just don’t!” you giggled. “Unless it’s really good. I just don’t like anything that’s bitter.”
“What the fuck…?” Joseph grumbled, turning the menu over to see the wine list on the back. You laughed, and his smile betrayed his grumpy attitude. “Don’t like wine, I don’t believe you for one second.”
“I just don’t like the way it makes me feel,” you told him, side-stepping the real reason you didn’t want to drink wine around him. It made you feel easy and loose, in a way that you probably shouldn’t be around your crush-slash-boss. You settled on a better reason: “It makes me feel like garbage the next morning.”
“Well, we don’t want that, do we?” Joseph asked. “I’m gonna order a red, but if you want something else, tell me.”
��Should we be drinking right now?” you asked teasingly. “We’re technically working.”
“Ah, live a little,” Joseph shrugged. “We’re not at work right now. If we were at a lecture or a panel, that would be different.”
Live a little. Sure. “Order me a glass too,” you told him. “Let’s drink a toast.”
“To?” Joseph asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Getting through one hell of a semester,” you said. “And to give us strength for the next one.”
“Hear, hear,” Joseph said with a smile.
Once you had the wine in your hands, you found yourself becoming less uptight. Your shoulders relaxed, and you settled your arms on the table as you leaned forward and listened to Joseph prattle on about the lecture he had to give tomorrow morning. “I’m honestly nervous,” he said, rotating his glass around and watching the wine move with it. It was a dark red drink, something that made the corners of your mouth curl with its sour, dry bitterness, but the warmth that grew in your chest made you keep drinking it. “I’ve never been nervous to teach before, but this is so different.”
“It’s a different crowd,” you told him. “It’s not students this time, it’s other educators. Just think about it like you’re sharing something cool with your friends, don’t think of it as a lecture, exactly.”
Joseph looked at his wine glass, then at you, and a small smile crossed his lips. “What would I do without you?” he asked, leaning closer to you.
“You’d be way behind on grading,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled wider. “I don’t know, sir. I really like working for you. You’re just awesome, so I’m glad that you like me.”
“Aw,” Joseph said. “How could I not like you? You’re so kind and funny, and you’re… Really gorgeous. I like looking up from my grading and seeing you sitting on the couch in my office, working on your own schoolwork. You always get this-this look on your face, like you’re thinking so hard— a little wrinkle between your eyebrows.”
“You do the same thing,” you told him. “I must’ve picked it up from you.” You sipped at the wine, frowning at the bitter taste again, and Joseph took notice.
“You don’t have to drink that,” Joseph told you gently. “I can order you something else.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you told him quickly. “I just… I just like spending time with you.”
“Really?” Joseph asked. He seemed taken aback by the topic change— maybe by the content of the topic change itself— but a flush under his beard told you all that you needed to know; he was flattered. “I like spending time with you too.”
He inched closer to you still, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his chest, and you moved closer to him too. Your knee touched his, but neither of you made any movements to stop it— instead, Joseph let his hand touch your leg, his thumb soothing up and down your knee.
“I just like you,” you told him. Your hand drifted down to his hand, grasping his fingers, and Joseph raised his big brown eyes to your face, watching your lips as you sipped at your wine again.
“This is a bad thing we’re doing,” Joseph said softly, shaking his head gently. “You should tell me to stop.”
“Stop what?” you asked. “I like it a lot. What if I want you to do more?”
“You’re asking for trouble,” Joseph said quickly, his grip tightening on your knee.
“What if I like trouble?” you asked.
That struck your boss silent, and he leaned back for a moment, watching you with his owlish eyes. “The bed,” he started, and you deflated. Of course he would stop it before it got good. “I’m more than happy to take the couch, I’m telling you. We don’t have to share or anything.”
“It’s big enough to fit both of us,” you said. “Dr. Quinn, please, I know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you do,” Joseph said flatly. “Because you keep looking at me like that, and you won’t call me by my first name, and you’re practically begging me to share a bed with you, you have no idea what you're doing to me.”
“Oh,” you said softly. “Docto… Joseph. I’m not trying to… I don’t know, seduce you or anything.”
“But you are,” Joseph said. “But I’m not upset about it. In fact, I like it. It’s been a while since anyone’s tried to seduce me, and, darling, it’s lovely to be seduced.”
You were taken aback. You truly weren’t trying to do anything, and the fact that you had an effect on him made your head spin. Maybe it was the wine. You took another drink as you watched Joseph, his hand still on your leg, his lips looking perfectly plump and soft, and you whispered, “You’re drunk.”
“No,” Joseph said. “I’ve had one glass of wine.”
“You’re not exactly sober,” you battled. “We shouldn’t do anything if we’re both not sober.”
“I’ve waited for half a year,” Joseph shrugged, swirling his wine around in his glass again. “I can wait one more night.”
“Can you?” you asked. “‘Cause… ‘Cause I’m not sure I wanna wait anymore.”
“Pardon?” Joseph asked, his face going pale.
“Kiss me, Joseph,” you told him. “Please, I’ve been waiting too long—“
Joseph took your face in his hands, fingers grasping your chin as he drew you into his warm body, and he kissed you. Finally, it felt as if a whole semester of pining was being brought out, and fireworks exploded in your belly. His mouth was juicy and warm, his tongue soft as he slid it into your mouth, and you eagerly kissed him back as your hands grasped at the lapels of his shirt.
When the kiss broke, you frowned. You weren’t quite ready yet, and you started to chase Joseph back into a kiss, and he placated you with a quick peck. “I’ll give you all you want,” he whispered, his accent curling in your ears and making you dizzy. “Let’s get back to the room first.”
The journey back to the room was torturous. You held onto his hand as you waited in the elevator bay, and you couldn’t help your giggles when he tugged you close into his body, chest to chest. “You’re so beautiful,” Joseph whispered. “How I managed to wait so long, I’ll never know.”
“To be fair, we’ve never gotten drunk together before,” you said, and Joseph jokingly rolled his eyes.
“We’re not drunk,” he said pointedly. “We had one glass of wine each, that’s hardly even tipsy.”
“Mhm,” you nodded jokingly, and Joseph rolled his eyes.
“Fuck off,” he scoffed. “See if I make love to you now.”
“Ooh, you wanna make love to me?” you giggled. “You’re such a romantic, I figured you’d just wanna fuck and then leave.”
“First of all, where would I go?” Joseph chuckled. “We only have one room. Second of all… Do other guys treat you that way?”
“I mean…” you started. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and you and Joseph stepped inside as you contemplated your words. “Not all guys. But enough for it to be a habit.”
Joseph cooed softly, drawing you into his body, and he softly kissed your cheek, his beard nestling just right into your skin. “I won’t treat you that way,” he said. “I’m a grown man, I won’t just abandon you at the slightest provocation. All those boys, they didn’t know what a good thing they had.”
“And you do?” you asked. “You think I’m a good thing?”
“I know you’re a good thing,” Joseph said with a softness to his voice that only made you sure that he was being honest. “It’s like I’ve always told you, you are beautiful—” he paused to press a kiss to your forehead, “And you’re funny—” Another kiss to your cheek, “And you’re a proper good time. I’ve wanted this since I met you.”
“Really?” you asked. “B-But I was your student back when we first met.”
Joseph shrugged. “Can you blame me?” he asked. The elevator dinged again, opening up on your floor, and he took your hand, leading you back to the room. Your tummy was doing flips as you walked, getting closer and closer to that bed, and you attached your lips to his neck as he fumbled in his pants for the keycard. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, turning his head a bit to expose his neck to you even more.
“Hurry up,” you giggled, and you gently bit his neck as Joseph finally found the keycard in his pocket, and he rushed to unlock the door. He tugged you in with little decorum and, once the door was shut, he pressed you up against it and kissed you.
This kiss wasn’t like the one you had shared downstairs. No, this one was hungrier, his tongue dominating your mouth and licking your lips as his hands grabbed at you. He pressed his knee between your thighs and opened up your legs, letting his thigh slot between yours, and you tugged at his curls as you moaned softly. “Fuck,” Joseph whispered, his teeth scraping your bottom lip. “You sound so pretty.”
“You do too,” you told him.
“You haven’t heard me moan yet,” Joseph said softly, and you smiled, chasing him back to you with a quick kiss.
“No,” you said against his lips. “But your voice…”
“You like listening to me talk?” Joseph asked, and you nodded. “Oh, my girl… I’ll never shut up around you now.”
“As if you ever did in the first place,” you giggled, and Joseph smiled.
“True,” he said. “When I have to talk for a living, that doesn’t make it easy to shut up.”
“How ‘bout you shut up now, and fuck me?” you asked, grinding your hips down onto his thigh, and you gasped. You could feel his hard erection through his trousers, resting pretty on his thigh, threatening to bust out of the zipper; he was big, and your tummy resumed its excited flips.
Joseph hummed contently, and he grabbed hard at your hips. You loved the juxtaposition of him, being so soft and treating you so gently, but touching you so roughly. His words were one thing, and his movements were another, and you bit your lip as Joseph shucked off his big wool coat and let it fall to the floor. “C’mere,” he mumbled and led you to the bed, laying you out and letting you feel the softness of the covers. You took some of it up in your fists and sighed softly, and Joseph’s hands went for your skirt, popping the button on the side and shucking it down your legs.
You worked to take off your coat and blouse and, soon enough, you were left in your bra and panties. Joseph grinned as he looked down at you, his big hands sliding up and down your body to feel every inch of you, and you writhed as you tried to get his hands exactly where you wanted them. “Where do you want me?” Joseph asked softly. “Tell me, my darling, I’ll do anything you want me to.”
“Want you everywhere,” you told him, pulling him back into a kiss. Your hands, although shaking, went to his butter-yellow shirt and started to unbutton it, only getting about halfway down his belly before he distracted you with kisses on your neck. “Fuck!” you gasped. “Joseph!”
“That’s it, darling,” he whispered. “Call out my name, let everyone know who’s making you feel this way.”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” you asked.
“No, darling,” Joseph told you. “I’m going to make love to you. Show you exactly what I’ve been wanting all this time.”
His kisses trailed down your body, his hands deftly ridding you of your bra before his lips attached to your pebbled nipple, sucking on it gently, just enough to make you whimper and moan. “Yes, yes,” Joseph whispered. His lips made messy kisses all over your tits, littering you with reverence, and he said, “Out with it, darling— you wanna say something, so say it.”
“Nothing,” you lied. You did want to say something to him, you wanted to say a lot to him, but you couldn’t find the words to express what you were feeling. Your heart was racing and your palms felt sweaty, and you clutched his shoulder as he hungrily captured your lips. You moaned softly at him, anxiety and nerves overtaking you and forcing your silence, and Joseph broke the kiss to remove his glasses and shove them on the bedside table.
“S’not nothing,” Joseph said firmly. “Something’s going on. Do you not want this?”
“No!” you exclaimed. “I mean, yes! I mean— Fuck, I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time, but—”
“Fuck,” Joseph whispered. “I know we shouldn’t, I know it’s against the rules, but, darling, I just can’t—“
“No, no, Joey,” you said quickly, pressing your hands to his chest. He softened at the nickname, and you slowly started to unbutton his shirt. “Listen to me. I’m just… I’m not on birth control, and I’m fairly certain you didn’t bring any condoms to an academic conference.”
“So I’ll pull out,” Joseph shrugged.
“But I don’t want you to,” you told him. You looked him deep in his chocolate eyes, holding his chin in your hand, and you touched your forehead to his. “I want you to claim me. Make me your girl.”
“Fuck, you can’t talk to me like that,” Joseph chuckled. “You’ll make me bust in my trousers.”
“How long has it been for you?” you asked.
“Honestly?” Joseph started. “A long time. Since I was your age.”
“As if we have that big of an age gap,” you giggled.
“But still,” Joseph said. “I wanna do right by you, and if pulling out is what happens—“
“But I don’t want that,” you told him firmly. “I want you to cum inside me. I need it.”
“Jesus,” Joseph laughed. “You’re so sexy, did you know that?”
“Says you,” you retaliated, and you grabbed a fistful of his curls and tugged him into a messy kiss, mouth open and tongues dancing. “God, Joey, you’re so fucking sexy, I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” Joseph said. His hands joined yours in undressing him, and you kissed his freckles shoulders and chest as he became available to you. Nothing was enough, and you wrapped your legs right around his waist and kissed his neck. He wasn’t built, but you knew how strong he was, and you smiled into his mouth as his arms greedily wrapped around you and smoothed down your back. His chest was warm against your tits, and you whimpered as his hands fell from your back and went to his belt.
There was really no going back now…
-
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#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfic#*my writing
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Stumblin' In
a/n: Hello loves! I'm back! And this time I've pre written 3/4 of a story...who is she?! I don't know her. Soooo...this little story will have four parts and is (very) loosely based on something that happened in Venice when I saw Joe...(still not over it tbh...heh). Thank you to my warrior editor and influence for this story @barfightzanddiscolightz. <3
warnings: none
wordcount: 1.9k (she's short)
part 2 - part 3 - part 4
You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the brightness that suddenly overtook the previously dimly lit screening room of the cinema you were sitting in. Your brain just wasn't made for such quick changes, especially while it was still processing what had just happened on screen. The film you had chosen to watch was one of those arthouse indie productions that attracts all kinds of people from all walks of life.
Slowly you pushed yourself out of the plush seat and stretched your arms over your head. Your ever-weary limbs and joints popped, and you feared that one of the at least 50 other people in the room had heard it.
Taking your time, you picked up your trusty leather jacket, which had once belonged to your father, and pulled it on. You shoved your hands into its pockets to retrieve your mobile phone. As you checked your unread messages, your eyes moved from the screen to your Dr. Martens-clad feet. You had undone the laces, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. Shrugging, you began to walk down the aisle, the laces whipping your jeans-covered calves, shins, and other seats along the way. You told yourself you would tie them once you had reached the atrium.
With your face almost buried in the screen of your phone, you stepped to the top of the stairs and began your descent. Not even three steps down, you stumbled over your now tangled shoelaces and instantly lost your footing. With a small yelp, you practically flew down the stairs, right into the back of someone's legs. The abrupt stop sent your phone flying down the hallway and past the curtain, as your head snapped back, slamming into the steps. The impact made your breath catch in your lungs and you let out a small whimper.
"Oh my God! Are you alright?"
With blurred vision and eyes refusing to cooperate, you tried to make out who was speaking to you. You knew it was a man from the voice, but his features were a mystery in the blur. Your eyes not working the way you wanted them to made you let out a frustrated sigh. You began slowly blinking your eyes, hoping for a clearer perspective, before giving up and closing them completely.
"Hey! No! Open your eyes!"
You sluggishly opened them again, your vision still as blurred as before. Lifting your arm, you tried to touch the man hovering above you. The movement sent a jolting pain through your arm, up your neck, and into the back of your head.
"Ouch.", you hissed.
"'Yeah, ouch.”, replied the still blurry man. "Please focus on me, can you do that for me?"
"Yep.", you lied. You couldn't focus on shit, because in addition to your blurred vision, your head was throbbing like you'd been hit by a freight train.
"Okay. Cool. You hit your head pretty hard. Can you move your legs?"
You made slow, jerky movements with your legs, wiggling your toes in your boots, not realising he couldn't see them.
"Okay. They work. Good! That means, no spinal injury.”, the man said, obviously relieved. "I'm going to move you now, is that alright?"
You nodded and immediately regretted it. Your head hurt like hell. How could a carpeted step hurt so much?
Warm hands slowly pushed under your arms and knees and then suddenly, but slowly, strong arms lifted you up and close to an even warmer body. As gentle as he was, the movement of your body was still very uncomfortable and made you whimper again.
"I know. I'm sorry.”, the man who was now walking spoke softly. As you both passed through the curtain into the even brighter hallway, you turned your head towards the man's chest to avoid the glaring overhead lights. You pressed your face into the fabric of his top and inhaled deeply. He smelled damn good.
"...is there a room I can take her to? She hit her head on the stairs when she fell. Also, could you call the A&E, I think she has a concussion."
"Sure, follow me please.”, a new feminine voice said and then there was a static crackle. "Henry, can you please call A&E, we have an injured woman with a suspected concussion."
"Copy. A&E is being called.”, came back Henry's very staticky voice over what you assumed was a walkie-talkie.
A few moments later you heard a door open and were carried very carefully into a small, office-like room.
"You can put her on the sofa. The paramedics will be here any minute."
Gently you were lowered onto the sofa. Gone were the strong arms and the warmth, and you began to shiver. Your eyes slowly began to focus, and you could finally see, though still blurred, the man who had been helping you. He was tall and handsome. His dark blonde hair was curly, and his face had a very patchy five o'clock shadow. But the most striking thing about his face was his huge, baby cow eyes, which were currently wearing a worried expression. Your gaze moved slowly down his body. He was wearing brown trousers with black loafers and a beige cable-knit jumper, topped off with a very expensive looking black trench coat. Visually, he was the exact opposite of you. You had opted for your usual all-black autumn outfit.
With a small but noticeable smile, you closed your eyes for a second and another shiver ran through your body. Unexpectedly, you were suddenly covered by a blanket. Slowly you opened your eyes to see that it wasn't a blanket, but the man's trench coat.
"Thank you...", you whispered. You were surprised at how weak your voice sounded, but the drowsiness that was slowly creeping up on you made it difficult to speak. Your eyes closed again.
"You're welcome...hey! No! Don't fall asleep!"
"But I'm so sleepy."
"I know, but you can't."
The man's voice was very close now, and as you felt hands cupping your face, your eyes shot open again. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was kneeling beside the sofa and his own eyes held yours in an equally steady gaze.
“You literally can’t fall asleep because you took quite the tumble there, Humpty Dumpty and I’m 99 percent sure you incurred a concussion.”, he explained with a grin. "Besides, you keep moving your head when you should be holding it still. If I have to hold your face to keep you awake and mostly still, I will gladly continue holding it."
You didn't respond to him. You just kept staring at him and he had the audacity to just stare back at you with his big, wet, brown puppy dog eyes.
A few moments later there was a knock on the door and two paramedics with a stretcher made their way inside.
"Hello there! You must be our patient.”, one of the paramedics said as he made his way over to you. He then looked down at Mr. Baby-Cow-Puppy-Eyes and spoke again. "Sir, may I ask you to move so we can examine her?"
"Uh... sure.”, he replied, taking his hands off your face, slowly rising to his feet. You groaned weakly as his fingers lightly brushed your jaw and he let out a soft snort before turning to the medic. "I was just trying to keep her awake. She fell down the stairs and hit her head on one of the bottom steps."
"Thank you.”, the second paramedic said, moving in to examine your head and neck. Your rescuer stepped back and moved to the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest to wait. He was still in your line of sight, so you looked at him occasionally to make sure he was still there, and every time you did, he smiled sweetly at you.
"Ooookay.", the second paramedic said as soon as she concluded her examination. "You have a mild to moderate concussion and swelling on the back of your head. We need to take you to the hospital for a 24-hour observation."
You frowned at her, and she smiled sympathetically. "Do you want your boyfriend to come with us?"
"Who?" you asked, a confused expression on your face.
"Him.”, she said, pointing to the corner where your knight in a cable-knit jumper was standing.
"I'm not her boyfriend. I'm the one she collided with.”, he chuckled and shook his head.
"Alright, I'll take that as a no.”, the paramedic grinned at him and then down at you. "Are you ready to be hoisted onto the stretcher?"
"Um...", you started, then suddenly panicked as you softly patted your jacket and jeans pockets. Your mobile phone - you didn't have it on you. "Wait! My phone! It must have slipped out of my hand or pockets when I went all humanoid egg earlier..."
Your reference to the handsome man's earlier statement made him burst out into laughter.
"She hasn't lost her sense of humour. Good.”, the first paramedic said with a chuckle, and began to lift you up by your feet, while the other paramedic assisted him by simultaneously lifting you up by your torso. The coat that still covered you was about to slip off your body if you hadn't grabbed it as if it were your lifeline. In a way it was your lifeline, for you were still cold, and the weight of the fabric did an excellent job of keeping you warm.
"I'll go look for it. Just give me a second.”, expensive trench coat guy announced, and quickly slipped out of the room.
Not even five minutes later he returned, waving your mobile phone in the air.
"Here you go.”, he smiled, handing you the phone but not letting go of it. "Please keep me informed about your condition." Just as he started to remove his hand from your phone, he added: "And you can keep my coat for now, but I want it back at some point."
"OK. I will, and you'll get it back... at some point.”, you promised, as the two paramedics wheeled you out of the small room. Halfway down the hallway you suddenly realised that you didn't have his contact details. How were you going to let him know how you were?
"Wait! Stop!", you shouted, making yourself jump more than the two people you were addressing. "Can you please turn around?"
"All right, but just for a second. We really need to get you to the hospital.”, the male paramedic explained impatiently, and they both turned the stretcher around and were about to push you back when you saw him standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall.
"I don't have your number!", you called, waving your mobile.
"Check your contacts.”, he urged with a wink, before pushing himself away from the wall and walking the other way. "Keep me updated!"
"I will!"
The two paramedics turned the stretcher around again and began to push it hastily towards the cinema's delivery entrance where the ambulance was parked. All the while, you unlocked your phone to see if he had really left you his number. He had to have. How else would he get his coat back?
Quickly, you opened your contacts app and there it was: a new entry.
Next to the emoji with the bandage on its head was his name:
Joe.
Grinning to yourself, you locked your phone and put it to your chest as the ambulance sped off to the hospital...
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#joe quinn#joseph quinn#joe quinn fanfiction#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn x y/n#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn x you#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#rpf#rpf fanfiction#rpf fic#Stumblin' In
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Is It Over Now?
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?
Author's Note: Part 2! :) Enjoy ! I actually am editing these chapters as I re-upload them so it's better but not much will change.
Disclaimer: Mention of violence, 18+
Wordcount: 4.4K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten
Joe’s head pounded the second he woke up the next morning. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, adjusting his vision from the bright light that was coming through the window. He couldn’t tell where he was at the moment until his eyes caught the sight of the coffee table and the television in front of him. He was still in the living room just like the blur memory he remembered from last night. He groaned softly, rubbing his temples and pinching the bridge of his nose to try and get rid of the throbbing headache, but it was no use. He drank too much last night, and he still remembered every detail of it. Every pain and every word that Ivy had told him.
Shifting his eyes back on the coffee table, he found a glass of water, a paracetamol, and a yellow sticky note. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the sofa and let out another groan. God, he was starting to feel old. His body felt sore from sleeping on the sofa all night. He picked up the yellow sticky note and read:
Thought you might need it.
He knew that handwriting from anywhere and that was from you. He looked around the flat and found that it was quiet and empty. You were nowhere to be found. Taking the medicine and immediately washing it down with the water, he let out a sigh and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He could still hear Ivy’s voice echoing in his mind from last night. He couldn’t help but wonder where he went wrong in showing her how much he wanted to be with her. Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he stared at the screen for a moment before pulling up his messages from Ivy. He hasn't seen her for two months, and he was really excited to spend some time with her last night.
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.
His mind flashed back to the memory from last night. He had taken her to a nice restaurant for once and not a pub, and he wanted the night to be a special night, but Ivy hasn’t said much ever since he picked her up from her flat. To make matters worse, she also has just been sitting there across from him barely eating her dinner. He had been telling her about what happened on set for his new film, and she barely listened. She was zoning out the whole time just staring into the empty space in front of her.
“I don’t know if I can take anymore of this, Joe.” Ivy blurted the words out, cutting off the story that he was telling her.
Joe knitted his brows, confused as to what she was referring to. He reached for her hand on the table, but she was quick to slide it away.
“What are you talking about, babe?” His voice was full of concern.
“I mean I can’t take anymore of barely seeing you. Whenever you come back, you’re only in town for a few days, and you leave again.”
Joe knew that his job was complicated, and it even got more complicated when his career had started going up. Flying to the States, other countries and different cities for conventions and events was what was taking up his life lately. Booking a role after another and attending fashion events and shooting commercials for them was the definition of his life for the last however many months.
“Ivy, I know it can get so hard and complicated, but I’m trying my best to balance it all. It’s hard for me too, not seeing you everyday.”
Ivy didn’t buy what he said though. Instead, she scoffed and shook her head as she took a sip of her drink.
“Don’t even get me started with that flatmate of yours.” She added.
Joe furrowed his brows, confused. How did the subject of you suddenly enter this conversation? What was Ivy talking about? He hasn’t even shown any interest towards you nor had he seen you in months because he was barely home. Whenever he was in town, he would stay at Ivy’s most of the time. So, what was the problem when it came to you?
“She’s just my flatmate.” Joe reassured her. “There’s nothing going on between me and her. I barely see her.”
“And how do I know that? How can I be so sure?” Ivy’s eyes were full of jealousy. “She’s pretty, and I’m sure she’s better than me right? Because she’s smart and works at a lab. A fucking chemist, and I’m just a model.”
Joe shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t put together how Ivy was comparing herself to you. Hasn’t he shown her all this time that he only wanted her and no one else? What more could he say or do?
“Babe, we’re just flatmates. You’re the one I want to be with.” Joe said sternly.
Watching Ivy throw her napkin on the table, she got up from her chair as Joe followed her. He wanted to stop her from leaving, but he couldn’t.
“No, Joe.” Ivy stated. “This isn’t working out anymore.”
She had made up her mind, and Joe knew when Ivy made up her mind, there was no going back. But how could she just leave like that? How could she choose to believe the insecurities that were screaming in her mind than the actions he had shown to her several times? Not once had Joe broken his promises to her nor tried to disappoint her. Even when he was away, he always tried his best to make sure they talked every single day, so she didn’t feel like she was far from him. Now, he watched her walk out that door as if what they had the last several months was nothing.
It was over.
She was gone.
Joe sighed at the memory as he made his way towards the bathroom. He smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, and his head was pounding even harder the more he thought about her. What else could he do? What could he do to get her back?
The sound of the coffee mug hitting the glass table echoed softly through the room. The place was crowded with people having a Sunday brunch with their friends or families. The gloomy January weather didn’t help with the mood of the conversation you were having with your friends.
Sara’s eyes widened in disbelief as she said, “Really?”
You nodded your head, looking at her through your lashes as you took a sip of your hot coffee. The hot liquid warmed up your throat and made your body relax. It was cold and gloomy, but you never wanted to miss your weekly Sunday brunch with Sara and Abby. It was a little tradition the three of you started ever since Sara had moved out. It was something you found comfort in every week. The day of the week that you would feel more at ease because Sara tends to balance you, and Abby was the most calm person you ever met.
When Sara had met Abby at the art gallery three years ago, you immediately knew that she was the right person for Sara. Her wavy brown hair, green eyes and soft smile definitely caught Sara’s eyes at the beginning, but it was Abby’s calmness, patience and warm persona that made Sara fall in love with her. You weren’t going to lie that you also felt comfortable and at ease when you first met Abby too. You could understand why Sara had fallen for her. Now, every Sunday, the three of you would catch up and hang out, especially because life would get busy and chaotic from time to time.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I feel sorry for him.”
You just finished telling Sara and Abby about what you dealt with last night when Joe came home. Both women had met Joe before, and they knew he was a decent guy, but he was never the main subject of most of your conversations until now. You didn’t really know what to do or to think, so you wanted to seek out some advice or opinion from your best friends.
“Honestly, Ivy sounds sort of insecure.” Abby commented.
Abby was right. Even if you have dealt with your own insecurities, you could tell that Ivy also had a fair share of hers because really? Jealous of you? You were literally nothing but just a normal person trying to get through life, while her modeling career was quickly rising. She had nothing to worry about when it came to you.
“Maybe Joe isn’t showing her enough reassurance?” Abby added, shrugging her shoulders.
You watched as Sara turned to you and tilted her head, brows all furrowed. “Are you sure that having Joe as your flatmate is a good idea?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with how many times you have heard that line.
“You sound like my mother.” You retorted back.
Sara chuckled softly at your comment and said, “No, but seriously… because do you really want to get caught up in their drama?”
Drama? That was the last thing you wanted in your life, especially in a drama that involved someone else’s relationship. You knew what Joe was going through, but you weren’t about to cross boundaries. What was going on between him and Ivy was their business, not yours.
“I’m not really caught up in their drama. That’s their own problem, you know? My name just happened to get dragged into it.” You casually said as you shrugged your shoulders.
It was the truth. You weren’t.
“Yeah, but what if she drags you even more in her little insecurity?” Abby addressed.
You knew what was going on between them. Even if your name was dragged to their conversation last night, you weren’t the big issue here. Joe had told you that, and you knew there were other issues they were dealing with. Ivy just happened to include you into it. Maybe to cause more excuses not to be with Joe. You really didn’t know.
“I don’t care what she feels about me because I’m not doing anything to her.” You took a bite off your waffle and decided to change the subject. You were sort of over this conversation about Joe.
Whatever was going on with him, that was his business. All you did was comfort him and listen to him, hoping you’d make someone feel better. That was all.
“Anyway, enough about me. How are you? How is married life treating you both?” You asked, a small smile creeping up on your face.
You watched as the two women exchanged looks before both of their lips tugged into a smile.
“Great!” Sara replied. “We’re settling in the new place, and Abby is back to work. Though, we sort of started talking about something the other night.”
Your eyes watched as Sara and Abby held hands, giving each other a warm smile. It made you more curious as to what Sara was talking about.
“Tell her.” Abby murmured, squeezing Sara’s hand softly.
Your eyes widened in curiosity as you waited for one of them to tell you whatever they were planning, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient as Sara tried to find the right words to say to you.
“What is it?” You asked.
“I don’t know.” Sara suddenly felt shy as she gave Abby a hesitant look, which in return, Abby kept giving her an approval look. “We were sort of talking a lot of things about our future last night, and we know it sounds a bit crazy…”
You raised your brows, wanting Sara to just spat out the words.
“Yea?”
“We sort of want to adopt.” Sara finally said.
You couldn’t help but almost jump out of your seat from excitement as soon as Sara said those words.
“Ohmygod.” You covered your mouth with your hand. “Are you serious?”
Abby and Sara glanced at each other with excitement. They really were serious, and you could tell how thrilled they were by just how they were talking about it. They both turned back to you and nodded their heads.
“I’m so happy for you both.” You took both of their hands in yours. “Please let me know if I could help with anything.”
“Thank you.” Abby smiled. “We both knew we wanted this even before getting married and the fact that it’s happening, we are very excited about it.”
“Then, you both should go for it!” You encouraged them even more as you all laughed softly in unison.
“And you should go look for a new flat!” Sara teased you, squeezing your hand softly.
“Stop it! I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, sliding your hands away from theirs. “I’m perfectly happy with my situation, and it’s not like Joe is bothering me. They’re broken up. I have nothing to worry about.”
Abby took a sip of her coffee and a playful smile tugged on her lips. “Who knows… Maybe you’ll end up with Joe.”
Oh, here we go again.
Why did everyone keep pushing this idea of you and Joe? He literally was nothing but just your flatmate. Just because he was a man didn’t mean that you two would end up together. A woman and a man could be flatmates together. Just like a man and a woman could be friends.
Right?
“We’re just flatmates. That’s all.” You argued.
You just wished everyone was going to drop this subject already because you and Joe weren’t going to happen. Ever.
Coming home later that day, you found the flat quiet and empty. The sofa was back to the way it looked. Pillows fluffed, throw blanket folded and hung at the back of it. The kitchen was clean, and the dishes that Joe promised he would wash were all clean and put away. Joe was nowhere to be found, and you figured maybe he had gone out. Maybe he went to go talk to Ivy or pick up his things from her place. Who knows.
As you walked down the hall towards your bedroom, floorboards creaked, and you heard a quiet rustling that came from Joe’s room.
Oh, he was home.
You passed by his bedroom and paused in your tracks as soon as you saw him organizing his room. He looked better. Not his usual normal face, but he looked better than last night.
“Hey.” You gave him a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe.
Joe never set boundaries like you did with him, but you tend to respect his own private space. He didn’t have to set rules with you because he didn’t really care that much about his own boundaries, but you respected him as your flat mate. It was his bedroom. You never tried to step into it.
“How are you?” You asked.
Joe shut his closet doors closed and took a deep breath, turning his attention to you with a smile.
“Good. I have been thinking a lot all morning.”
He looked… enthusiastic?
“Oh, yeah?” You raised your brows. “How’d that go?”
Joe started walking towards you as he said, “I really like Ivy.”
You nodded your head in understanding, trying to figure out where this conversation was going.
“And you know that, right?” Joe asked as if you were out of the loop about this whole thing.
Of course, you knew. He was probably mad over her.
“Right, but Joe if she doesn’t want this anymore–”
Joe cut you off as he stopped in front of you. It looked like a light bulb switched above his head as his lips tugged into a devious smile.
“So, I was thinking that Ivy was just being Ivy, and she just wants attention. I know she wants me to chase her.”
What the fuck was he on?
You furrowed your brows, wondering what that mind of his started thinking all morning that all of a sudden he was saying all of these things. If he wanted her back, then so be it. It was his life, and you couldn’t stop whatever he wanted to do with his life. You weren’t his mother. Though, from the look of his expression, you didn’t think his own mother could also stop him from doing whatever he wanted anyway.
“So, I’m going to try and get her back.” Joe continued.
Well, good for you, mate but good luck.
“Can I ask a favor though? No, not favor… But I need your help.”
Now, you were scared–no–terrified.
You stood there without saying a word as you blinked your eyes and stared at Joe for a moment. You didn’t want to say anything or ask what he wanted because you had a feeling in your stomach that it was going to be something you weren’t going to agree on. You could just feel it.
“What is it?” You steady your voice, trying not to stumble on your words.
“I need you to be my fake girlfriend.” Joe said sternly, his chocolate button eyes staring right into your eyes.
Oh, fuck no.
Absolutely fucking not.
Your eyes widened in disbelief, trying to repeat Joe’s words in your head. Did he really just said that? Did he really just asked you that? When he said he had been thinking all day, you didn’t realize that he hadn’t been thinking at all! Where the fuck did he even got this idea from? Did he put that paracetamol somewhere other than his mouth, or did that medicine went up to his brain?
You understood that he was going through a difficult and rough time due to the fact that he liked Ivy that much, but did he completely lose his mind? Was this the situation that Abby and Sara were afraid of when they said that you really needed to look for a new flat? Because it was starting to look like your flatmate had gone mad.
“E…Excuse me, what?!” You finally found your words as you looked at Joe in disbelief.
“I know that I probably sound mad but–”
“Uh… yeah, you got that right!” You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a step back from him.
Maybe your mother was right. What else was he going to do next? Stab you just like what that boyfriend of your mother’s friend’s daughter did?!
Joe saw the horrific look in your eyes as he tried to calm you down and showed you that he wasn’t actually going mad but all you wanted to do was run away from where you were.
Joe sighed and looked down at his feet and said, “If she saw you and me are dating, then she’d get jealous and she’d ask me to get her back.”
You really need to go find another flat.
You shook your head and started making your way towards your bedroom. “Absolutely not! You’ve gone mad!”
Joe followed behind you, and you gave him a “don’t you dare” look as soon as he was about to step inside your room. Joe, however, caught himself and stood by your doorway with pleading eyes.
“Please? I know that this is crazy, and you probably think I’m crazy, but I really like her. I just…” Joe’s voice was soft as he let out a sigh and said, “I really thought she was the one.”
You weren’t going to lie. You have known Joe for a year, so you knew this was just him going through a breakup. Maybe losing his mind a little but everyone loses their minds when it comes to someone they love, right? Did Joe even love Ivy? You understood why he was doing this, but you were already on Ivy's hit list, and Joe thought this was going to be a good idea?
There was no way you were going to bring yourself in this drama. You already told yourself that. You even told your friends that earlier.
God, Sara and Abby were right.
“If she’s the one, then she’ll come back to you without you doing all this crazy shit.”
Joe pursed his lips and nodded his head in understanding. He wasn’t going to press you with this subject because he knew it was mental in the first place. He was just hoping that maybe you would say yes, but he also understood that you weren’t going to put yourself in a situation like this. How could he drag you into his own problem?
“I understand.” Joe murmured. “I’m sorry for making up this idea in the first place, and I’m sorry for trying to drag you into it.”
You watched as Joe gave you an apologetic look and walked away. You sighed and flopped yourself on your bed face down, letting out a small groan. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You flipped yourself over, so you were laying on your back, sliding your phone out and saw that your mum was trying to facetime you.
Oh, fucking great.
Whatever she wanted to say wasn’t really something you wanted to hear tonight. You didn’t need her to add into the craziness. You stared at your phone for a moment, hesitating on what to do, but you knew she wasn’t going to leave you alone, so you decided to answer the call.
“Hey mum.” Your voice sounded tired.
The second your mum appeared on your screen, you saw how she looked excited and there was a big smile plastered on her face.
“It’s not really a good time, mum–”
Your eyes widened when a man about your age appeared next to your mum. He waved hello to you as your mum started introducing you to him.
What the hell was she doing? Was she really trying to set you up with a stranger right now? Joe wasn’t the only one going mad tonight. Though, you retracted that thought because your mum was already mad.
“This is Alex. He’s our new neighbor’s son. I thought maybe you two could get to know each other.”
God, this was so embarrassing.
How could she fucking do this to you? You were 28 years old, and she was setting you up with some man you never met. Not only was it embarrassing, but you didn’t need your own mother to set you up with someone. If you wanted to date or be in a relationship, you could find a man for yourself.
“Mum, this isn’t such a good time.” You looked at Alex through the screen and said, “It’s nice to meet you, but I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Just like that, you immediately hit the end call button and grabbed your pillow to muffle a scream. Everything was just making you so frustrated, and you were even more frustrated with your mum. Her actions were starting to get into your last nerve. You didn’t know if you could take anymore of this from her. Even if you were far away, she still managed to piss you off.
Staring at the ceiling, your dad’s voice echoed in your mind about when you were going to bring a man home. Were you really that much of a disappointment to your family? Did you really need to marry or be with someone for them to feel proud of you? Because that was just wrong. You were a chemist for fuck’s sake. You were literally out there dealing and mixing chemicals and synthesizing DNA just so this world could find cures for illnesses and diseases and all your parents could care about was you getting in a relationship?
You were so sick of it!
Then, your eyes darted towards the empty hall just right outside your door. Joe’s offer echoed in your mind, and you were starting to ask yourself if you also had gone mental too. Maybe you have.
Letting your feet lead you, you got up from your bed and slowly walked down the hall towards Joe’s bedroom. His door was open, and you quietly peeked and saw that he was just sitting there at the edge of his bed, thinking deeply with a melancholy look on his face. His hands were playing with the empty beer bottle, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because all of this was so stupid.
“So…” You stood by his doorway, getting his attention. “How long is this fake dating thing?”
Joe froze where he was and stared at you in disbelief. Were you really offering an approval to his crazy idea? Honestly, you were asking yourself the same thing.
“Just until I finally catch her attention and would want me back.” Joe answered.
You bit your lower lip, playing with your fingers nervously for a moment before taking a deep breath and said, “So, here are the rules...”
Joe’s full attention was now to you as he waited for you to continue.
“If you get to use me as your fake girlfriend then I get to use you as my fake boyfriend at any upcoming family gathering.”
Joe set the empty bottle on his bedside table before getting up from his bed and walked over to where you were. He was trying to comprehend the offer that you just made.
“You mean… introducing me to your parents as your boyfriend?” Joe asked, brows all knitted together.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Then, you have to go to party events with me, especially if Ivy is there.”
You tilted your head, giving Joe a look. “Joe, I have a job. I can’t just ditch that for stupid party events.”
“Then, how are people going to believe we’re dating if we’re not seen together?” Joe argued.
The man had a point but there was no way you were going to agree with this without getting anything in return.
“Fine, but you get to pay for the dresses and shoes that I have to wear to these stupid events, and I get to keep them all.”
“Okay, deal.” Joe gave you a smile.
You weren’t done yet.
“And one more thing, you could only kiss me and hold me but there’s no sex.”
The small chuckle that escaped from Joe sort of insulted you, but you ignored it because this was all fake anyway. Besides, you both were using each other for both of your benefits, so you didn’t have time to feel insulted that Joe was quick to agree that he didn’t want to have sex with you.
“No problem.” Joe agreed, reaching his hand towards you.
You stared into his eyes as you shook his hand firmly in agreement.
You were so going to regret this, weren’t you?
Taglist:
@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna
#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader#Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader#Joseph Quinn rpf#Joe Quinn rpf#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Is It Over Now?#blairrwaldorfs
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Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.
just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you
Wordcount: 2.2K
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Love Languages
The best chats always happen at night.
“Hey... hey Joe,”
In bed, in the dark.
“Hmm?”
When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting.
But you lead busy lives.
These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.
“Joe,”
“Mmhmm,”
You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.
“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”
Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply.
You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all.
“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”
You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.
“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too.
“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”
“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.”
“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.
“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.
“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.
“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...”
You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.
Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.
Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.
And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.
You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.
You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.
Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.
Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.
It worked.
Sort of.
It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.
His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.
Touch.
It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.
If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.
More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.
It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.
Joe’s love language had to be touch.
“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.
“I don’t think so?”
Um.
Excuse him.
What does he mean he doesn’t think so?
“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.
“I think this counts as touching,”
“That’s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”
And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.
You know it’s touch.
But, what if it isn’t?
It could be gift giving too.
Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.
More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.
Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.
Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.
And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.
“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”
“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.
You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.
“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”
And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.
Unbelievable.
But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?
Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?
Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.
He’d just make you one then.
And exactly how you liked it too.
Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.
Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.
He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.
But the fact that he’d put the effort in?
You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”
Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.
Idiot.
You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.
Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.
Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.
Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.
Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.
“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.
“Just thought you should know.”
Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.
You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.
But then he had just said, “I love you.”
It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.
“I love you too.”
“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”
Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.
Like right now.
Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.
“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.
Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.
Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.
“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.
You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.
“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.
“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”
You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.
You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.
And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.
But he’s sort of right.
“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.
But his is definitely touch.
The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.
And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.
“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.
He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.
The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#icallhimjoey
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Joseph Quinn 🤝 laying down during a photoshoot
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#gris by dior#joequinn#josephquinn#ok now for the random tags lmao#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#joseph quinn x reader#eddie x reader#st4#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn smut#joseph quinn imagine#daleyeahson
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I apologise in advance 💀 my filthy, smutty brain cannot compute so I wrote it out into an imagine to make me feel better, news flash; I do not feel better 👀
Under 18's DNI.
Imagine Joe and reader in the club, he promised to be well behaved and that was until the 3 rounds of tequila shots. You're dancing with your friend whilst Joe watches you from the bar grabbing your next round, your particularly favourite song blasts through the speakers and you begin to shake your hips, hands in the air, screaming every lyric; to him nobody has ever looked sexier.
Joe can't help but move towards you heading straight behind you, brushing your hair over to one shoulder, clutching his fingers onto your waist and tilts forward to kiss your neck; hitting every sweet spot he can expertly find, his tongue lingering over your skin cells which erupt into goose bumps everywhere the muscle comes into contact with, his hips grinding into yours sporadically. You swerve round quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a partially flirtatious look.
"I thought I told you to be a good boy."
"I can't help it when you look like that." Joe grabs your hand taking you into a quiet hallway up the stairs; leaving your friends behind, the sign reads next to you Staff Only. It quite clearly could be a place you may be caught at anytime; the alcohol induced confidence makes you not give a fuck in the slightest.
The next thing you know, Joe cages you between him and the wall, crashing his lips and pushing his now bulging erection into you. "What would it take for me to take you into the toilet and let me have my way with you?"
You palm your hand onto his cock, rubbing harshly, hearing him groan into your ear. Giving him exactly what he wanted. Meanwhile his hand disappears up the bottom of your dress, pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers straight into your entrance, fucking your cunt two fingers deep, your walls clenching and your thighs giving way. Your almost public foreplay is dangerous yet so inconspicuous.
"Answer my question, pretty girl."
You challenged him. "Tell me what you want to do to me Joey."
Joe's free hand took you by the throat, wrapping the thickness of his fingers delicately around it, the veins in his fists flexing proudly.
"I'm going to pick you up, ram your panties in your mouth since you don't understand the meaning of silence when my cock stretches and fills your tight, wet little cunt so perfectly." The way you moaned just from his filthy words alone, he had you like putty in his hands literally.
"Then I'm going to fuck you so hard until you can't take anymore." His fingers curled up just at the end of the sentence, your hole gaped as he shoved a third finger inside.
"And just so you're aware, you aren't going anywhere until I fill you up and you're reminded who's cockhungry slut you are."
You gasped as he stretched his fingers out inside of you, you could've finished there and then. That was until he took them out, the smell of you filling the air as he pushed the three digits into your mouth, letting you sample your fluid. Pushing his mouth onto yours shortly after, dominating his tongue slipped in receiving your saliva and pussy juice that lingered, his breathy growl made you gasp.
"Face up to it, you're fucking ready for me right now love."
His malicious smile got you every time, the way his dimples exposed themselves and his eyes sparkle in the dimmed lighting, pupils dilated and cock practically throbbing beneath his clothing, leaking and aching to be encased where it belongs.
"Actions speak louder than words." You snarled, biting down onto your bottom lip, watching his eyes flutter down, he wasn't willing to hearing another word from you until he had your legs trembling, your panties were being pulled up and his cum was dribbling out your sodden and freshly fucked hole.
Joe got you in the stall within a matter of seconds, pushing your panties down to your feet, picking them up and sticking the soggy underwear into your mouth as promised, his trousers and boxers now down by his shoes, taking his thick member into his hand, jerking it for good measure and lifting you upward in one swift motion as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
Jolting you down to practically sit on him, no adjustment needed your slippery walls inviting him straight in, his hips began to buck into you rampantly. Your teeth gripping to the material as muffled moans escaped you, the way his tip was pressing against you, his strong arms keeping you held in a perfect position meant he was able to fuck into you as hard as he wanted to. Joe bit down onto your shoulder, stifling his moans and leaving marks against it. Your hands snatched at his curls, tugging them sharply, his mouth moved back to your neck, bruising you and marking his territory, not that he needed to, it was clear who you belonged to.
His thrusts became sloppy when your walls clenched against him, he could feel the way your cunt twitched around him, leaking your sodden mess and dripping out onto his balls whilst you rode through your orgasm. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your soul left your body for that moment, it could almost be seen above watching the two of you at it like a pair of caged animals.
"Yes you fucking whore, take my cock, god- I-"
Joe couldn't give anymore, he bounced your hips to hit as deep as he could get, one last thrust saw him burst inside your already messy space. You both groaned at the way his seed spurt out inside of you, milking every last drop whilst he lingered inside of you, his body spasming through his sensitive climax.
Taking your panties out of your mouth, Joe's smirk returned and he pushed his lips back to yours, kissing you so passionately, the way you fell breathless into each others mouths, the stench of sex in the air, the way you both looked fucked out.
"You'll be the death of me, my love." He sighed, gaining his regular oxygen flow.
"Hey, you started it." You giggled.
"And I finished it too, like the 'good boy' I am." Joe winked at you playfully, releasing himself and slowly putting you down to the ground.
"Oh yeah? Such a good boy."
#joseph quinn imagine#joe quinn imagine#joseph quinn blurb#joe quinn blurb#joe quinn fanfic#joequinn#josephquinn#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joe quinn x reader#joesph quinn#joseph quinn fic#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x fem!reader#joseph quinn x female reader#joe quinn x y/n#joe quinn x you#joe quinn smut#joe quinn fluff#joe quinn angst#joseph quinn headcanons#joe quinn request#joseph quinn angst#joseph quinn character#chocolate button eyes
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One Night in Roma
Pairing: JoeXFemReader
Request: I know you're writing a fic for Joseph and maybe after today's new photos you can write something about a drunk Joseph in Italy...like in the chair in the back
I won't lie. I jumped to this request because the words just came and I rolled with it. Hope you enjoy!
18+ Only
You stood on the roof, gazing out over the city below you. You had brought you to Italy multiple times but the beauty of the country never failed to leave you in awe. The sounds of casual conversation, ice clinking in glasses, and music playing hummed in your ears. You swayed softly to the beat of the music, losing yourself to the moment completely before turning around, your eyes finding your favorite guy.
Joe was off chatting to his friends and you could tell he was fairly drunk by this point. He’d been enjoying this vacation to its fullest and you were glad. He’d been working so hard lately, bouncing from con to con meeting his fans, and he was beginning to shoot the Gladiator sequel shortly so that wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Your man was tired. It filled your heart with joy to see him so relaxed, leaning back against the parapet, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other, a wide smile lighting up his face, creating those little crinkles next to his eyes that you loved so damn much.
He caught you watching him and winked, raising his hand and beckoning you over, “Hey darling, come here.”
You made your way over, smoothing down your skirt as you approached. Joe took your hand, pulling you to him until you stood between his legs, pressed against his chest. His friends chuckled and walked away, joining another small group. Joe’s hand came to rest on your hip as he nuzzled his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply.
“Mmm…you smell delish,” he rumbled, fingers kneading your hip, his nose now moving along your ear and down your neck. You gasped when his tongue flattened against your throat, licking from the base to your chin. “I want to taste every inch of you.”
“Joe…” Your brain was telling you that you were surrounded by a bunch of onlookers, your body didn’t give a shit, and you were struggling to protest. “You’re drunk, baby.”
“I most certainly am,” he agreed, pulling back and booping your nose with his finger, that throaty giggle bubbling out of him and you couldn’t help but join in. The man’s laugh was so infectious. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want, darling.”
“Baby, your friends are all around us,” you whispered.
“My friends aren’t down there.” Joe looked over his shoulder, down off the side of the balcony, where there were two chairs on a lower level. Down far enough to be out of eyesight but not earshot. His hand slid from your hip to your lower back as his lips came next to your ear again. “Do you think you can be quiet for me, love?”
“Joe, I don’t know,” you replied, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you glanced down at the sitting area.
“My pretty girl…” Joe crooned, jutting his lower lip out, those soft, puppy dog eyes begging you as he took your hand, bringing it to his crotch, his erection already straining against his slacks. “Look at what you do to me, love. I need you.”
You groaned softly, “Joseph, stop giving me those eyes.”
“What eyes?” he asked innocently, smirking because he knew he had you now.
He grabbed your hand, leading you along the edge of the balcony to a small set of stairs that led down to the sitting area. You glanced around but none of the others were paying attention, lost in their own conversations, many of them drunk, dancing, not caring what you and Joe were doing.
“Come here,” Joe growled, flopping back into the chair, pulling you onto his lap.
You maneuvered your legs under the arms so they hung on either side. Joe’s large hands covered your face, pulling your lips to his. His tongue danced along yours before he pulled your lower lip between his own, gently sucking. His hands were roaming now, sliding down your back and under your top, over your rib cage. His fingers danced over your skin until he covered each breast with one his hands, thumbs teasing your nipples over the flimsy lace until you uttered a low moan, his mouth swallowing the sound.
All thoughts of the other guests upstairs vanished from your mind,
your hips rolling over his. His erection pressed against your center and now you were whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders, needing this just as much as he did. You felt the growl in his chest as he took one nipple in each hand, pinching and pulling until you pulled away from his mouth, biting down on your own lip to keep from crying out.
“This skirt was a bloody good idea,” Joe hissed, hands now on your knees, pushing the gauzy fabric slowly along your thighs. “Fuck, the person who invented these things is a damn genius. Easy access.” He traced his fingers over the front of your panties and you choked out a gasp. “Mmm…so wet already. Shit, I want to taste you but that might have to wait until later.” One hand teased, thumb running over your clit through the satin underwear as the other gripped the back of your back.
“Jesus, Joe,” you muttered, hips rocking against him as his fingers slid past your underwear. His thumb brushed along your sensitive little bud and you buried your face in his neck, smothering the sounds you couldn’t control. You never could when Joe was touching you. Your hips bucked harder and he groaned deeply.
“That’s so fucking good, darling,” he whispered, “keep going.”
You needed no encouragement, your body aching for release as Joe kept your pleasure building, your pussy pulsing in anticipation of release. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back and his tongue traced a path from the base of your throat to your mouth before his lips claimed yours again. He sensed how close you were and slowed his thumb, now making lazy circles.
“Joe…baby…please…” you pleaded, gasping, grinding yourself against his hand, his erection, seeking out a way to relieve the tension within you, wound tighter than a clock.
“Does my beautiful girl need to come?” he asked.
“Yes. Jesus Christ, yes. Please,” you whispered, struggling to remind yourself that you needed to be quiet. His thumb picked up its pace and then he flicked your clit and you cried out, eyes closing.
“Must be quiet darling,” Joe mused, enjoying how out of control you were becoming at his touch. He yanked on your hair again. “If you want to come, you need to open those lovely eyes. I want to see you.”
You struggled to follow his command, opening your eyes and the intensity with which he was looking at you was enough to send you over the edge. Joe anticipated it and covered your mouth with his, swallowing your screams of pleasure as your body shuddered, his thumb never ceasing, working you through as you tumbled off the edge, coming completely undone.
“Good girl,” he praised, tongue running gently over your lower lip. “Can you stand up for me, darling?”
You nodded, legs shaking as you gripped the arms of the chair, slowly making your way to your feet. Joe watched you, undoing his pants and sliding them and his boxers down his legs just enough, his length now on full display. You went to get on your knees, assuming that’s what he wanted but he held up a finger, shaking it and his head before spinning his finger.
“No darling, turn around.”
You did, your legs almost giving out but he grabbed onto your hips, steadying you. Joe slid your skirt up to your hips, pulling you back onto him, his cock slipping inside you slowly. You moaned as he bottomed out, your ass nestled snug against his hips. Nothing ever felt the way this did, Joe filling you up, stretching you completely, fitting inside you like his cock had been molded for you.
“Shit darling…your pussy is fucking perfect,” he growled against your ear, hands slipping under your shirt again, cupping your breasts as he pressed his hips up into you and your eyes rolled back, head falling against his shoulder.
You grabbed onto the arms of the chair, using it as leverage as you lifted your body and lowered it again, riding his cock. You relished the soft grunts and groans he released against your neck, his teeth nibbling the tender flesh there. When you took his full length in again, you rotated your hips, gasping as he hit all the right places within you.
“Fuck, my pretty girl,” Joe hissed, “keep doing that. So good…”
You didn’t need telling twice. It was so fucking good. Joe kept one hand on your breast, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand traveled down along your stomach, under your skirt and back to your clit. You had no control, over stimulated, lost in the intense sensation throbbing through your body. The minute his finger brushed your clit, you cried out and his hand that had been teasing your breast clapped over your mouth.
“Darling, don’t want us caught,” he reminded, groaning deeply as he rocked his hips, matching your rhythm, his finger brushing over your clit, alternating between back and forth movements and circles until you were mewling, back arching, completely undone. “Gonna come for me again, love? Yeah, you are. Come on, beautiful. Be a good girl for me and come all over my cock.”
You shrieked against his hand, back arching, body rigidly shaking as Joe kept hold of you, keeping you from slipping down off of him. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the chair for dear life before collapsing against him.
“That’s my girl,” he hummed, both hands grabbing onto your hips as he thrust up into you hard and fast. His breathing picked up, low grunts rising out of him before his fingertips dig in hard and you felt him fill you. “Fuck…Shit…”
You melted into him, your body refusing to cooperate. Joe’s arms came around you, holding you against him, his lips pressing against your shoulder, your neck, your cheek. Your head rolled and you wondered how in the hell you were going to get up. Just sitting here, nestled against Joe, sounded perfect right now. Your legs had lost all function.
“You are so fucking amazing, darling,” Joe growled, nipping at your earlobe. “Jesus Christ, I love you.”
“I love you,” you gasped quietly, “but I can’t walk Joe.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest, “Then I did my job.”
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joseph quinn stranger things#joseph quinn smut#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn smut#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn x you#joe quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x you
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Margaritas and Karaoke
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
-Your date stands you up leaving you to spend a night out with the rowdy group of lads across the room.
-
The condensation from your glass dripped down your thumb as you aimlessly stroked the droplets off the drink you were nursing. You felt the familiar tightness in your throat as the bar filled up and your table stayed empty. It was on a whim, after so many bad dates and a few other no shows that dropped your spirits and left a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of dating, you decided to give one last guy a chance.
The night was cold and you regretted your choice of attire, opting to dress up rather than dress for the weather. You took another sip of your tall tequila orange, fighting off a cringe as the tequila soaked your taste buds, questioning to yourself whether it was worth finishing your drink before you make your depart and head home. The last couple times a date went this way you called a friend to come rescue you, the embarrassment of being stood up being too much to handle, but you felt far too defeated, more embarrassed about your friends knowing this was another dud than the strangers around you.
The concentration you had on the trail of one particular drop of condensation was suddenly disturbed by movement around you and the scrape of a chair. You looked up, the man in front of you paused, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.
“I’m sorry, were you waiting for someone? I can find another chair.”
You couldn’t form words, you could barely form thoughts, too distraught by your own misfortune, and here you’re faced with another kick in the guts, some guy, just taking your dates chair for his table.
You must have been staring for too long because he began sliding the chair back, “Sorry, ill get another one”
“No its fine, I’m not waiting for anyone” You answer quietly, scared that speaking too loud would make you cry.
The man nodded before sliding the chair out again. You looked back down to your drink, ready to scull it and leave before the scraping stopped.
“Are you okay?” The man asked. You looked up at him again, his eyes were squinted as he looked at you hunched over your drink.
“I’m fine” You forced a smile, silently begging for this interaction to be over. The man stared at you a little longer before returning the chair and placing himself in it, elbows propped up on the table in front of you, offering you his full undivided attention.
“You were waiting for someone weren’t you?” The man in front of you ducked his head forcing eye contact, something that absolutely intimidated you.
“Yeah..” You answered looking anywhere but at the man seated with you, “But it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s not coming, you can have the chair”.
You saw the man shift from your peripheral and he moved around the table until he was standing beside you, hand outstretched.
“Come hang out with me and my mates? I can’t leave you here all alone”.
You looked at the hand and then back up to him. He was handsome, now that you had given yourself the chance to properly look, and he seemed nice, what could go wrong? You slowly take his hand, noting how soft his fingers were as they wrapped around yours and he pulled you out of your seat.
“I’m Joe by the way” He spoke quickly over his shoulder as he dragged you over to a table of rambunctious men. Once Joe had stopped you in front of the table all eyes were on you.
“We’ve got an addition to our party tonight lads” Joe spoke loudly, “This is..” Joe’s words drifted off as he motioned for you to introduced yourself, which you did shyly, still a bit shaken by the turn of events your night had taken.
All the boys cheered, taking your hand to shake and introducing themselves. You thought they all seemed to be friendly blokes, which eased your mind about hanging out with them for the night.
“We were watching the football then thought about going down to that karaoke place down the block, how does that sound?” Joe asked, pulling out a seat for you before going back to your original table for the chair he was trying to steal before, retuning with that and your drink.
“Karaoke bar has amazingly strong margaritas” One of the men said to you, you think his name was Wesley.
Something happened on the TV above you all and the table erupted in cheers, capturing Wesleys attention.
“So, Mystery Girl, why has Joseph here brought you over? Date stand you up?” One of Joes other friends asks once the football game got boring again. You freeze at the question, how pathetic would it be if you said yes, he was obviously joking. You felt movement under the table and the man winced out a curse before you could even answer, “Sorry” He mumbled turning back to the TV.
“They’re not the brightest bunch, you’ll have to excuse them for that” Joe said into your ear, but loud enough for the table to still hear, earning a couple offended looks from his mates.
“It’s okay, not going to pretend like I always drink alone at a pub on a Saturday night” You laughed, more to yourself, you still felt pretty shitty about the initial situation. You reminded yourself to unmatch with the guy before the night ended, happy to be rid of the whole thing.
“He was a loser, whoever he was” Joe said, bumping his shoulder with yours to grab your attention. “Don’t beat yourself up over it yeah?” He said this much softer, those big brown eyes of his burning through you. All you could do was nod, feeling completely insecure by his intense gaze, you wondered if he knew his eyes had that affect on people, because surely it was not just you.
“Couple shots will have you forgetting all about him” Wesley on your left interrupted.
At that all eyes landed on Joe expectantly. “My shout again then?” he groaned getting off his stool, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
“We don’t even have to say anything, how convenient” One of the men you had forgotten the name of answered. The whole exchange felt like an inside joke you weren’t part of so you went back to your own drink, watered down by the melted ice.
When Joe returned he brought with him a tray holding 10 shots of a golden liquid, tequila, and the good kind you suspected by its colour.
“Right!” Joe yelled gaining everyone’s attention as he handed out the small glasses. “On the count of three, both down the hatch”
All the boys began to count, ‘1, 2, 3!’ A loud cheer erupted around the table as you tapped your first shot on the wood before joining them in the middle and up to your lips. The burn had tears pricking at your eyes but without time to adjust you were all picking up the second shot and repeating, this time with a little less enthusiasm. The second one went down smoother yet you screwed up your eyes to keep the tears from spilling.
A gentle hand rested between your shoulder blades, “Alright?” Joe asked voice smooth as honey, as if he hadn’t just swallowed the harshest liquor. his thumb softly stroked the exposed skin on your back causing an eruption of goosebumps you hoped he didn’t notice.
“Yeah good” You choked out earning an amused chuckle from the man.
“I say we give it ten then we try and make the walk to karaoke” One of Joes friends spoke up, everyone else mumbling back agreement.
Eventually you all stumbled out of the pub on your journey for karaoke. You were feeling light as a feather, the alcohol beginning to take its affect and the general atmosphere of Joe and his friends easing your nerves. Wesley and Joes other friend you now knew was James had taken lead, skipping up ahead. Joes third friend, David was quickly following them, leaving you and Joe, arms linked as you wobbled at a slower pace behind.
“What’s your go to Karaoke song?” Joe asked, pulling you over to the left to avoid walking through a puddle on the sidewalk.
You took a moment to think, “Don’t stop Believin’, Journey.”
Joe groaned in appreciation, “That’s a good one”.
His arm that was wrapped around your elbow let go and snaked around your waist, warm hand on your hip as he manoeuvred you around a group of men smoking.
“What’s yours?” You asked back, looking up to Joes face instead of where you were walking, he was guiding you anyway you didn’t need to see.
“Oh, definitely something ABBA” Joe replied instantly, a sure look on his face. You giggled at the image of him singing ABBA in a bar.
“I can tell you’re a Dancing Queen kind of guy” Joe scoffed, “Yeah, I own that shit”.
You continued walking, Joes friends almost out of sight now as you both slowly made your way down the street. The cold breeze bit at your skin and you cuddled up closer to the man holding you for warmth.
“Cold my Love?” Joe asked, shrugging off his jacket to give to you.
“Oh no, no, please don’t” You insisted but he only shook his head and forced it over your shoulders, rubbing your arms firmly to accentuate his point, he was a true gentleman. You wished the men you found on dating sites were anything like Joe. Gentle, kind, courteous, you bet Joe would actually turn up to dates he arranged with women, just the most basic of respect.
“What’s going on in that head?” Joe asked, noticing you had gone quiet. You only shrugged, not wanting to talk about the start of your night again, reliving your constant misfortune in the dating world.
Joe sighed “You know that guy is really missing out. He would have been so lucky to be out with you tonight, who skips out on meeting a beautiful, funny, kind woman like you!” Joe ranted on and on, hands flying out in front of you both in animation. “A bloody tosser would miss out on such a opportunity, that’s who.”
You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and heart at Joes praise. You hadn’t known him for more than an hour but for some reason the compliments held gravity within you. The idea that he thought so highly of you already had heat rising up to your face.
“Oi!” Joes rant was interrupted. “You both going to get in the bar tonight or stand around and wait for the sun to rise?” David had called out. You looked around and notice you had arrived, and the rest of Joes party had joined the queue. You looked up to Joe, a sheepish expression on his face as he removed the arm he held securely around your waist and made his way into the line with the rest.
Once inside you all beelined to the bar for more drinks.
“Your turn again Joey” James said as you approached the bar. Joe only rolled his eyes before listing off everyone’s drink order, adding yours to it. You watched as he tapped his card to the machine and distributed the drinks out.
“You two go get us a booth while we go queue up some songs” David said while taking his drink.
You followed Joe to an empty booth, Joe gesturing for you to slide in before him.
“Why do they make you pay for drinks?” You were curious, it seemed like a joke to the other boys, but you noticed how unhappy Joe seemed about it.
Joe groaned at the mention of it. “I lost a bet, so the whole nights on me” Was all Joe said as he shuffled in close to you, his cologne engulfed you in the confines of the booth and had you almost salivating, he smelled delicious.
“And what was the bet?” You pressed on.
“That I would get recognised tonight, within five minutes of being at the pub a girl came up to me and asked for a picture” You were confused by what that meant, and you watched amusement wash over Joes face.
“You don’t know who I am do you?” He asked, a sly smirk on his face as you shook your head no.
“Good” Was all Joe said before the rest of the crew came back.
“I’m singing Aquas Barbie Girl, you lot have to film it alright!” David drunkenly yelled over the table as you all settled in to watch other patrons make an ass of themselves onstage.
The rest of the night consisted of the margaritas Wesley promised, singing and dancing, and a firm hand around your waist. Joes fingertips occasionally stroking up and down your rib cage, keeping a steady round of goosebumps to rise across your skin.
As the night began to slow down and Joes friends started discussing Ubers home, Joe leaned in, hot breath fanning over your neck.
“How about we leave these idiots to it, and we make our own way home?”
Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the proposition and a heat formed lower at the ideas running through your head. Was Joe taking you home?
Before you had the chance to respond, the man had grabbed your hand firmly and pulled you up and out of the booth, a protective grip once again made its way to your waist as Joe manoeuvred you around people and out the doors, not bothering to say goodbye to his friends.
“Would you like to come back to mine?” joe asked casually as he pulled you towards the street, phone in hand ready to order his own Uber. “No pressure to, id just love to spend some more time with you, without that lot” Joe said, head motioning to the bar you had come out of.
“Yeah, okay” You stuttered out, a new flood of shyness engulfing you. Joe was hot, so much hotter than the guy you had even planned to be out with tonight and that had you nervous. Insecurities had your mind telling you this should be literally any other girl going home with him, but you pushed them down as you looked up at the man, a warm smile on his face and a hint of something else in his eye.
Tonight was only just getting started it seemed.
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn smut#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn#fanfiction
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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!💖
#texting Joseph Quinn#joseph quinn#joseph quinn rpf#joseph quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn fandom#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x fem!reader#Joseph Quinn social media au#joe quinn fanfic#my little British baby
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look at him all angy and pouty cause i won’t lettem cum 😓☹️
Reblogs appreciated:>
#eddie munson#stranger things 4#stranger things#joseph quinn#sub!eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#brat!eddie munson#soft!eddie munson#joe quinn fanfic#steddie imagine#mommy k!nk#daddy!steve harrington#eddie munson x mom!reader
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Joseph Quinn 11
A/N - I love this! Thanks for requesting this, friend!
On The Line
Summary - Being Joe's oldest friend also means you have to wonder if it's just a friendship.
Warnings - Just some fluff :)
“You look cute when you blush, you know that?”
Your friend and secret crush, actor Joe Quinn, looked up from his phone as you grinned next to him in your chair. The flushness on his cheeks was evident, along with his big brown eyes that were locked with yours. You giggled, noting how you almost caught him in an act when he was merely scrolling through his phone.
“I wasn’t blushing! It was…hot out,” he explained as you chuckled and pointed out the window behind the pair of you.
“It is literally snowing outside as we speak, are you joking?” You asked, Joe looking out the window to see the fat snowflake hitting the wall and cascading down to the ground. He looked back at you with a raised brow.
“Well, it was warm in my car when I came here, so back off,” he replied lightly, you laughing at his antics. You leaned over to brush your shoulder with his own, again getting his attention as you spoke, “So…anyone in your love life that I should know about?”
“Not at all,” He smoothly replied, but you could hear the undone of his voice that he was fully not telling the truth. Of course, he wouldn’t tell you about his crush, much to your dismay since you were trying to figure out your feelings for your friend. For how many years you two have known each other, long before Joseph became popular as an actor thanks to Stranger Things. You and Jose grew up together in school, being good friends and hanging onto the friendship through thick and thin. But of course, there were always times when you thought the line of friendship would blur into romance. Joe was a great guy, not a bad bone in his body with a shocked sense of humor and a humbled nature about his career and where he wanted to go.
He never pushed you away when his career was taking off, though some of his other friendships blew off in the wind. Joe held onto yours tight, talking to you constantly on the phone and hanging out together when he had downtime. You knew he was busy as hell, much more so when Stranger Things made him into a sensation. He would call you to either chat up, vent or simply grow deeper in your friendship together. And of course, being the great friend that you were, you would pick up the phone every time. Grabbing dinner with him when he needed an escape, joining him on a quick weekend getaway when he needed to decompress from his stressful schedule.
You were simply being a friend, but the blogs and gossip columns were thinking otherwise.
Most of what they were saying was in fact false and harsh, not to mention the pictures the paparazzi would take when you two were out and about together. It was hard to read at times and simply nearly impossible to swallow down, and no matter how many times Joe would reassure you that they never bothered him, it did to you. Maybe because you were still in denial about your feelings for him, never seeing it as a possibility in the future of your two being an item together. Plus you’ve only heard horror stories of people dating actors and stars, most of the relationships burning to the ground and not lasting longer than a few months. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardize the friendship you two have had for over a decade.
But how long were you going to be in denial?
“Alright, if you don’t feel like telling me then, and here I thought we were close…” You replied in a light tease as Joe chuckled and chucked his phone on the couch. He eyed him, seeing you give him the mocked cold shoulder.
“We are, trust me. You’re one of the closest friends I have,” he rescued you, pausing for a brief moment before he spoke again, “I’d rather iron it out on my own before telling you since your opinion on who I date is important to me,”
You just smiled and nodded your head, “Fine, fine. Keep your crush to yourself then. But whoever they are, they’re lucky.”
As you walked off to retrieve your book, Joe was watching you with a small smile on his lips. You had no idea he was cooking up a plan to ask you on a date, to leave his own heart on the line for you.
The End.
January Prompt Session
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn fluff#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn xreader#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn x y/n#joe quinn x fem!reader smut#joe quinn x you
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