djolikejoe - Tumblr blog

djolikejoe · 8 months ago

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

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

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Cotton Soft Touches Gentle Voices Smooth

“What are you doing?”

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

“Hey. What are you doing?”

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

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

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

Snug.

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

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

But you felt so warm.

So fucking cosy.

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

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

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

“Will only be a minute.”

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

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

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

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

Something moving slowly.

A little rhythmically.

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

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

That was what Joe always did.

That’s where Joe let his fingers draw shapes.

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

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

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Watching TV.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is nicer when you do it.”

“Yea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t though. Not really. Because as Joe spoke, he let his fingers continue what they’d been doing and if he thought you were able to try to follow his conversation as well as what you were watching whilst he made you melt with his touch, he was wrong.

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

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

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

“No, I’m just at home. Watching TV.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

That would send you right back off into sleep.

“Do another.”

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The Taglisted

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

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

@harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

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

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

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

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

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

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

#serene and lovely and I love here #fic rec

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djolikejoe · 10 months ago

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hello Quinn nation, here's a small humble offering for you

In the two years you'd been on and off with Joe, you'd met most of his friends. Got on well with them though you didn't know any of them particularly well. You and Joe usually have already broken up again by the next birthday party or housewarming that comes around.

You spot him the moment he enters. It's getting late, nearing half past ten when he stumbles in. He and his friends aren't particularly boisterous but you feel like you could sense him. Smelt the waft of cigarette smoke tangled his cologne the moment he passed the threshold of the door.

You and Ally are wedged into a back corner so you watch Joe scan the entirety of the bar, then the restaurant as inconspicuously as he can. He's smiling and nodding along to his friends' chatter as he looks. But he misses you, obstructed by the gaudy decor and swarming waiters. You swear you almost see the corners of his mouth frown from all the way across the restaurant as he settles at the bar.

"What? Who is it?" Ally smirks, assuming it's someone much more famous. You debate on lying. Saying it's someone from a show she doesn't want or a band she doesn't know. But after two years, you don't see much point in it. Your friends had been begging you to cut contact with Joe after the first break up. You'd rarely hold on to exes after the relationship but for some reason, even through all the hurt he'd caused then, you couldn't let him go.

A million reasons kept you tethered to him but you hadn't physically found your way back to him until about a year and a half ago, you ran into him while working in London. Well, technically, he ran into you and you had a coffee stain on your then-brand new top to prove it.

You caught up easily, accepted the invitation to his flat with even more ease. It's been up and down since.

"Joe," you tell Ally, shrugging non-chalantly. She studies your face closely. There's no hint of anxiousness or giddiness. She raises and eyebrow and turns to look. Joe looks the same. Ally sighs before turning back to you.

"Are you gonna say hi?"

"Eventually. Probably." You shrug again.

"Of all the fucking places in LA," Ally scoffs to herself, shifting her body to sit sideways so she can easily look between him at the bar and you in your seat. "Why is he even in LA? Didn't he spend 99% of his time here whining about it last time? I thought he'd never come back after that."

"Who knows." You move your attention to the approaching waiter, nodding as Ally orders another (much stiffer) round of drinkers.

"Maybe he's booked something here." She glances back at him then back to you with an almost accusatory glare.

"Probably." You sigh, shifting uncomfortably under her eyes. "Who cares. I'll deal with him later. Tell me more about Annie's wedding. Is she gonna let you wear the dress?"

Ally groaned, fully distracted by momentary rage at the mention of her sister, who's turned into a Bridezilla the moment she got engaged. The conversation moves quickly past Joe but you keep him in the corner of your eye the whole night.

It's not til' your final round of drinks that Joe finally spots you. He comes charging straight for you, megawatt grin plastered on his face. He's shaved. He looked five to seven years younger than when you last saw him. You'd always liked the scruff but never told Joe that. Seeing him in his baby-faced glory made your heart beat a touch faster.

It was a lot easier to hold him at arms length when he physically...wasn't right there too.

"Laaaaaaadies," he drawls, with a cherubic pink tint blooming across his cheeks from the alcohol. "What a coincidence." He winks at you, much less subtle than he thinks. Ally, of course, doesn't miss it and gives you the same disappointed frown she always does. You'd seen the frown a lot in the last two years. It still made your heart sink.

"Hi Joe." She says with a curt smile, standing up abruptly and Joe startles, stumbling back into an empty table beside you. "Lovely to see you as always." She says to him, total deadpan. Ally then turns to you. "Thanks for dinner. I love you. I'll see you next Thursday." She rounds the table and comes to hug you. "You're better than this. Please realize that." She says in your ear before two-finger saluting Joe and marching out of the restaurant.

Before Joe can say anything, the waiter brings your bill. You pay, leaving a generous tip and fish the lighter out of your purse. You hold it up to Joe in question, no words necessary.

He grins again, like a fool. And grabs your hand to pull you outside.

Your cigarettes aren't even halfway finished when he first leans into kiss you. Finally able to admit to yourself how much you missed him, you flick it to ground and blindly stamp it out with your boot. Without breaking his kiss. Now free, your arms wrap around his neck and pulled him closer. On hand held your face with the same ferocity, craving the same closeness. While his other hand held his still lit cigarette at his side.

"You want to?" He pressed, nosing against your face when you break for air. "Come back with me?" He nods along as he's talking, eyes wide, with the same innocence as if he asked for a simple ride home.

You want to. Could feel the desire to pulsing from the core of your body, heart beat thumping straight to your pussy all night.

But then you heard Ally's voice in your head.

You're better than this.

You look at Joe, smiling as his warm eyes squint in a smile back, eyes squeezing from cheeks pushed so wide. You let your hand savor in the feeling of his soft skin. Then you looked at the cigarette in his hand.

With a sigh, you kiss him firmly again. At first, he thinks how you've chosen to accept his invitation...but then the kiss is cut short. You smile at him again, soft fingers tracing the lines of his lips before you drop your hand to his middle. It only takes a gentle press of your hand to get him to take a step back and give you a little space.

"No." You tell Joe. "Not tonight." But you let him hold your hand until your car arrives. He waves off the driver and opens the door for you himself. You roll down the window to say goodbye but he leans inside it.

"Sick of me already?" He asks, a playful smirk and eyebrow raise poorly masking the hurt deep in the endlessness of his brown eyes.

"No," you tell him sincerely. "I just meant what I said to you last time." For his sake, you don't spare the details with the driver in ear shot but he knows what you mean. Or nods like he does anyway before he kisses your temple and bids you goodnight.

#joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn x reader

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