#Joe Quinn fluff

[archivequinn]

he is so boyfriend, drunk, handsome, pretty, god i love him.

[joeydoeeyes]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ J's Lullaby 🧸 ༊*·˚

Bf!Joe x reader

When you can't sleep, Joe is always there to come to your aid ꒰🛏꒱ wc; 1.1k

Warnings: None

You truly felt that you were beginning to go insane, laying between your white bedsheets. The hours had slowly slipped away from you, and you were still wide awake. One in the morning, two in the morning, three in the morning, four in the morning… the clock now reading 5:38 in the morning. Joe was going to be up in a few hours, and you were still here tossing and turning.

At times like these, you never failed to feel envious of Joe. The sound that his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep, peacefully dozing like he didn’t have a care in the world. You could hear him snoring gently next to you, and while part of you was glad that at least someone was sleeping, part of your exhausted brain wanted to turn around and punch him in the face, it felt so unfair that he got to sleep when you felt so miserable.

The sound of bird song and the world slowly beginning to wake up began to fill the bedroom through the open window that was blowing the morning breeze in. Drivers making their first deliveries of the day, the early birds making the morning commute, buses passing on the street outside, but it only made you feel worse about being awake.

Everything was driving you up the wall, you felt like just tearing your hair out. You slumped back down against the bed, turning to face away from Joe this time, instead facing the white wall with the framed photo of you and Joe at his parents last Christmas, both of you very tipsy. No amount of holding it in could stop the lump you were beginning to feel forming in your throat, a physical manifestation of your frustration and anger at the world, at your brain, and yourself.

Before you could stop yourself, you felt the salty tears welling in your eyes and beginning to trail down your cheeks. You felt defeated and pathetic, wiping your eyes against your sleeves, soaking through the grey sleeves of the jumper than you’d stolen off Joe, turning the light grey dark. What you were even crying about, you didn’t know, if it was out of frustration, sleep deprivation, if you were angry, sad, mad, you couldn’t place your finger on a reason so your fingers wiped your tears instead.

You desperately tried to stop yourself from sobbing, but it was no use. Still in the middle of your tears, that was when you felt Joe’s big arms wrapping around your waist, beginning to pull you into him. You managed to turn over in bed to face him, so your chest was to his chest. He was wearing his white tank top, so his bare arms were against you. He had clearly just woken up, and he rubbed his eyes to adjust to being awake. “What’s wrong, my angel?” He asks, his voice low and rumbly in his chest.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t find an answer for him, instead just burying your head into his soft chest, clinging onto him like a lifebuoy in a storm, feeling his warmth radiating against you, his scent surrounding you. Joe let out a gentle ‘aww’ sound under his breath, as he tightened his arms around you, stroking your hair gently like he was petting a cat.

“Oh… oh, my darling,” Joe cooed to you gently, his hand continuing to stroke your hair as his other hand moved to rub your back soothingly. “Shush… shush… it’s alright,” He whispers softly. “I’m here,” He whispers, the sound of his shushing reverberating from his chest, relaxing you instantly, listening to the deep vibration of his voice as you were pressed so closely against him.

“I’ve got you. I’m here now… it’s okay, my love, I’m here. Not gonna let my baby go,” Joe assures you again, kissing your forehead delicately as he encases you within his arms, until you can’t see, hear, or think about anything other than him, him, him. Those deep, kind brown eyes look into yours with his expression soft and full of fondness for you, a face you think you could look at forever and die happy. 

“I-I… I… I just can’t fucking-,” You begin to stutter out, unable to find your words to express your frustration, before he shushes you again, wrapping the covers and blankets around you like he was swaddling a baby. “I know, baby. I know. You can’t sleep. You don’t need to tell me, I know,” Joe assured you.

He knows. Joe always fucking knows.

Admittedly, this wasn’t the first time that Joe had woken up to you being wide awake, and frustrated with yourself that you couldn’t sleep. He kissed your forehead again, as your head moved closer to the left side of his chest, and you could feel his heartbeat through his white tank top. The rhythmic sound soothed your tired head, giving you a constant sound to listen to, to focus on rather than your rapid thoughts, and you shut your eyes to zero in on it.

“There we go, love. That’s it. You can just focus on the sound of my heartbeat, yeah? Just focus on that sound, and fall asleep for me. I’m not going to let you go, my darling,” Joe whispers gently, as he cradles you in his arms like he was rocking a baby back to sleep.

You’ve finally found the most comfort that you’ve found all night, allowing every other thought to drip out of your mind, until all you can focus on is him. The feeling of his soft bare chest against you, the soft fabric of his tank top, the feeling of his stubble against your skin as he rests his chin on your forehead, the sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin, the feeling of his stomach moving up and down under you, the soft sound of his breathing.

Finally, you could feel that you were beginning to fall asleep, all the noise in your brain finally beginning to fade out into nothing. Joe looks down at you with a soft expression, seeing that you were finally drifting off for him. He took pride in that, whenever he could take care of you, in any way he could, especially when he saw you so peaceful in his arms. He could feel himself getting sleepy too, letting his head relax against the pillow once more.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” He whispered, before letting his own eyes close, as the both of you finally began to drift off.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy my first fic, just a quick little blurb from my insomniac self 🤭

taglist: @ceriseheaven (comment to be added <3)

[lokis-army-77]

Left behind

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 1884

After a funeral, Eddie feels he's being left alone and says some hurtful things to the reader. After some time apart at home, he comes to apologize and is assured by the reader that she will never leave him.

Warning: Talk of death, at a funeral, angst, fluff, Eddie says some mean things.

A/N: I'm so sorry..

Masterlist

The wind whipped around us and the chill it brought stung like ice. My cheeks had already started to turn pink from the cold, my nose numb and as red as could be. A December afternoon in Indiana is a dreary thing, put a funeral on top of it and it's the physical manifestation of Depression. 

I stood just behind Eddie, who was dressed in his only suit with his long hair pulled back in a bun out of his face. My own black dress clung to me in the wind, the bottom hem whipping around at my knees. 

The pastor provided by the funeral home spoke in a bored and monotonous tone, by this point I had drowned him out. I was too concerned for Eddie right now to worry about being led to christ while we buried a loved one. 

He was hiding it well. No emotion showing on his beautiful face. His eyes almost glazed over as he bored a hole into the casket. 

It was a simple thing, the cheapest we could afford. Grey aluminum with the smallest casket spray on top. Those flowers weren't even the nicest and the wind was doing a number on the soft white petals. 

Quietly, I placed my hand on Eddie's shoulder, letting him know I was there for him. I felt him stiffen before reluctantly pulling my hand away. 

Looking around us, only a hand full of people were gathered. A few guys who worked at the plant and a waitress from the diner we visited almost every Saturday morning. 

They all gave me sad smiles when they caught my eye. I gave them one back. 

I hadn’t noticed the preacher had stopped talking until a hand was cupping my own. Turning around it was the waitress. 

"Saturday mornings sure aren't gonna be the same without him." She squeezed my hand. "I've got a casserole with your name on it, just come on by the diner and I'll bring it out to you." 

I shook my head. "No, no, Mrs. Janice, that's too much. You didn't have to do that." 

"Oh Hun, you shouldn't have to worry about cooking or finding food when you're going through a loss." She pouted. "Come on by and I'll give it to you and if you need any more, just give me a call." 

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."  I gave her a tight smile and she left. 

Next were the three plant workers who introduced themselves as, Randy, Carl, and Jimmy. They gave their condolences as they shook my hand before taking off. 

The Pastor was last. "Mrs. Munson," he started. I only nodded not wanting to correct him on the fact that I wasn't married to Eddie yet, only engaged. "They are going to start lowering the casket. I don't know if you want to watch that but you can if you would like." 

"Thank you, I think we might." 

"Well then, I'll be on my way. I'm very sorry for your loss." He turned on his heel and followed the others through the cemetery to where all the vehicles had been parked. 

I went back to Eddie, who hadn’t moved to talk to anyone. 

"Eddie, sweetheart, why don't we go? Hum?" I linked my arm with his. 

He didn't budge when I pulled on his arm so I stood there with him as he stared and I watched the men begin to lower the casket into the ground and shovel the mound of dirt back into the hole. 

Once they were finished and gone we still stayed standing, looking at the grave with the casket spray decorating the dirt. It was getting colder by the minute since the sun was starting to set and Eddie still hadn't given any sign that he wasn't a statue. 

"Eddie?" I question, going to stand in front of him, eyes searching his face. "Eddie please, I need you to say something, move, anything." I couldn’t hide the wobble of worry coming through in my voice. 

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. 

"Want me to give you a minute alone?" He nodded. "Okay. I'll be in the car when you're ready to go." 

Slowly I let go of him and braced myself against the wind towards the car. Slipping into the passenger seat, I hurriedly turned the key and started the ignition, thankful for the heater. 

Ten minutes later, Eddie opens the driver's side door. The rush of cold air taking away the warmth had me shivering once again. 

He sat quietly for a few seconds before suddenly slamming his hand shown onto the steering wheel. 

"Fuck!" 

I jumped, startled at his outburst. That was the only sign of emotion he had shown since this morning. 

"Fuck! fuck! fuck!" Each shout was emphasized by him hitting the wheel. 

"Eds, be careful, don't want you hurting yourself." 

I reached over pushing his hands down into his lap. His breathing had become rapid and his eyes were no longer glossed over. The haze cleared up and nothing but anger shone through. 

"Why do I keep being left alone?" 

I place my hand on his shoulder and rub my thumb into the tissue. "What do you mean, baby?" 

"Everyone fucking leaves me all alone at some point or another. First, it was my old man, then mom died, and now Wayne." His words were warped with anger and frustration. "You'll probably leave me too. You might at well go now while I'm already in pain. Rip my heart out while it's already broken, it would be better than leading me on." 

I shook my head at his words. "Eddie, what are you saying? I'm not going to leave you, ever." 

He looks up at me, eyes rimmed in red as tears he's been holding in for days begin to pour. 

"Didn't you fucking hear me? Everyone always leaves me." The crack in his voice was only the beginning of Eddie’s breakdown. "I'm just a worthless kid from a worthless family and if you knew any better you would run like hell." 

"Eddie don't say that, please. I know it's hard right now but we'll get through this." I tried to comfort him but I didn't know what to say. 

"That's easy for you to say, Wayne wasn't your Uncle. He didn't take care of you when you were dropped off at his doorstep because your dad was an abusive asshole and your mother had you get you away from him. He didn't struggle, morning, day, and night just to keep you fed and let himself starve. He wasn’t yours then and he’s not yours now." 

Eddies hand came up to swat mine away from him and when he did I placed it in my lap. Too stunned by his words to speak I just sat quietly. 

I thought to myself, He doesn't mean to be rude. The man who raised him just died. He needs time and space. He doesn't mean it. 

We sit in silence while Eddie drives us back to our apartment. I fiddle my thumbs and sneak careful glances over at him. Silent tears streamed down his face and my fingers itched to wipe them from his cheeks. My heart ached at the sight of him barely holding it together.

“Eddie, maybe I should drive?” The statement came out more as a question as I watched him struggle to stay on one side of the road. 

“No.” It came out in a rasp then he cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I always drive.” 

He wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped on the gas more. After that, the drive went more smoothly. No more veering into the other lane or stopping too long at a red light turned green. 

Finally home we went inside. The darkness added to the somber mood and the quietness rang in my ears. 

“I’m gonna heat up some dinner, okay?” I spoke, heading into the kitchen to take the leftovers out of the fridge. 

Eddie only grunted in response, kicking off his nice shoes and languidly undoing his tie. I listened to him slowly walking to our room before the door clicked shut. 

As I stood there, the refrigerator door wide open, I let the slip. A choked cry erupted from my chest and my hands came up suddenly to cover my mouth. I had wanted to be strong for Eddie, a shoulder he could come cry on if he needed, a support for him to fall on.  But honestly, I was almost as broken as he was. 

Wayne might not have been related to me but when Eddie and I became the best of friends in Junior High, he took me right in. He had looked after me like I had wanted my own father too. He’s the one that finally talked some sense into Eddie and I, separately, and made us realize we liked one another. 

None of that was equivalent to what he had with Eddie but what Eddie had said to me in the car had stung and although I knew it was coming from a place of grief, I couldn’t help but cry. 

Staggering back into the counter, I slid down them to the floor, head hanging into my knees as I let myself weep, body shaking. It felt good to cry even if my face began to feel puffy and my throat had a huge lump in it. 

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but when the fridge door finally closed and a warm body sat next to me on the kitchen floor, I realized that my body ached from being there and my tears had all but dried up. 

Eddie slung his arm over my back, pulling me in closer to him, his other hand smoothed back my hair, fingers catching in the knots. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He apologized. 

“It’s okay,” I mumbled into my legs. “You were just letting out your emotions.” 

“Even so, I shouldn't have said what I did. It was unfair of me.” He sniffled. 

Looking up my puffy swollen face met his and I gave him a short sorrowful smile. He gave me one back. 

“Eddie, truly, you don't have to apologize.” I sit up and lean into him. “I should have just given you some space.” 

He shook his head but didn’t reply, I think he knew arguing with me would yield nothing. We held each other on the floor for a while longer before finally I stood to my feet, reached down for his hand, and pulled him up. 

“I love you Eddie Munson and I promise I will never leave you.” I gently lace my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, he had let it down from its bun at some point, and pulled him down to my lips. Kissing him like this, soft and sweet and full of all the love I could give, felt wonderful. Like being cleansed of all your worry and strife with white-hot fire. 

“God, you’re too good for me Sweetheart. I really don’t know what I would do without you.” He pulled away, cupping my face in his hands. 

“You won’t ever have to find out.”

[lovejosephquinn]

I'm sorry I kept you all waiting almost 24 hours - I hope it's worth the wait. 👀

Summary: Joe gets himself worked up alone in his hotel room thinking about you, he can't help but let you in on his thoughts and actions that he's taking to solve it.

Under 18's DNI tysm.

Taglist: @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @josephfakingquinn @palomahasenteredthechat @literallyforsmut0nly @live-love-be-unique @lifealwayslearning @quinnypixie @mybffjoe @cancankiki @becca-alexa @choke-me-joey @parkermunson @eddiemunson95 @hellfiremunsonn @moonchildquinn @pleasantlycrazyworld @purplerain85 @chickennug90 @theoneandlaurie @dylanmunson @halfastar0 @joe-quinn-loving-queer @popesjealousy @quinnsgrapejuice @capricornrisingsstuff @ches-86 @zestychili @twosluttychains @emma77645 @ellen-m-ichiban81

[icallhimjoey]

Joe with those glasses 😩 the whore in me came out! Anyways imagine the reader being like woah the first time she sees him with his glasses on. He’s usually in his contacts but let’s say he got tired and decided to wear his glasses for the day, and reader knew she had a sexy and handsome boyfriend but she didn’t knew how him with glasses would make him more sexier than he already is. Let’s just say Joe know the effect it has on her and well and well now the rule is that the glasses stay on during sex!

my requests are closed but fuuuuuck ok here we go Wordcount: 1.3K

His glasses

"Stop giving me those eyes," Joe warned after asking you a question, two jars in his hands, right in the middle of a supermarket isle. You hadn't answered but instead had perched an elbow on your shopping cart and rested your head in a hand, granting yourself a moment to stare at him as he studied the backs of two pickle jars.

It was only 10 in the morning, but you were all sorts of riled up. It was those glasses. You knew it. Joe was sexy, but Joe in his glasses? Oof. Illegal. Straight to jail. Joe wore them around the house for brief moments sometimes, but today, Joe'd decided to take them outside, past the threshold of his flat, and you couldn't believe it.

"Wait, what are you..." you'd asked him when you saw him ready to walk out with them still on.

"What? Oh. It's just easier, come on, let's go,"

Suddenly, Bedroom Joey was out in public, stood here in front of you in the middle of a supermarket, fretting over what difference two pickle brands made besides the price of them. How could Joe expect you to separate the frames from their usual surroundings and... activities?

"Which one do you think looks better?" he asked, holding both jars up to you again, like you cared at all.

You kept staring with an impossibly wide smile on your face and with thoughts far away from the conversation Joe tried to have with you.

Joe waited two more seconds for you to answer before he sighed with annoyance and removed the glasses from his face, pushing them up into his hair, making you almost whimper at the loss of them on his nose.

"No-" you whined.

"Which one?" Joe interrupted, looking at you like a disappointed schoolteacher and you were quick to grab one of the jars from his hands to place in your cart.

"Please put them back on," you were about to reach for them yourself, but Joe swatted your hands away quickly before lowering the specs back onto his face himself.

"You're ridiculous," Joe laughed, linking arms with you. And maybe you were. But had he not seen himself? Had everyone not seen Joe Quinn in glasses?

"Pub lunch?" he offered after your morning shop, and a small gasp left your lips. Joe was going to take the glasses into a pub with you? You were going to stray even further from your bedroom with Bedroom Joey? Was this man even fucking thinking straight? "Sure," you casually replied, hoping any sign of you being too into it would prompt him to leave them at home.

But he hadn't.

You were sat across from him as his eyes scanned over the menu, and your mind ran wild with the most inappropriate of fantasies. Up until this point, you'd been very above having sex in public. But now, everything was up for debate. It didn't help that Joe was wearing a fuzzy jumper too. Holy hell, what had gotten into his head this morning?

"Don't!" Joe said sternly as you used a foot under the table to press onto his seat in between his thighs, not even looking up from the menu. You only stilled for a second before carrying on, sliding down your seat slightly to be able to reach, making Joe jolt in his seat.

"Oh my God, stop," Joe laughed as he tried to keep his voice down.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom..." you said, elongating your words to really bring your point across as you moved in your seat, getting ready to get up.

"Meet me in-"

"No, you're not," Joe made big eyes at you, a smile playing at his lips, absolutely shocked at your behaviour. "We're having lunch. Sit." Joe looked at you over his glasses, and what the fuck, it just made everything so much worse.

"Meet me in 3 minutes." you finished your sentence, your face showing a weird mixture of arousal, anger and confident determination. Joe hadn't seen it from you before and watched you walk away, disappearing up a set of stairs to the toilets. He then looked around, checking to see if anyone had either seen or heard what had just transpired at his table before abandoning it completely and flying up the stairs, taking two at a time.

You stood waiting in the women's bathroom, praying that the first person to walk in after you would be Joe and not a random woman who actually had to use the facilities for what they were meant for. You sighed a breath of relief when the door opened and you saw Joe carefully peep his head around it. His beautiful head. With those beautiful glasses. Upon seeing you he scurried over and before you could even close the stall door behind you, Joe's lips were on your mouth in a heated kiss. Not wanting to break away, you fumbled your hands around until you were able to lock the door.

You used both hands to pull at Joe's collar that had now made its way out of the neckline of his jumper, pressing your lips harshly into his. Your nose pushed into his cheek, just underneath the rim of his glasses, and Joe made the grave mistake of reaching for them to get them out of the way.

"Don't you fucking dare," you panted into Joe's mouth, yours wide agape, his spread into a wicked grin that bit into his bottom lip as your hurried hands made sure he kept those specs in place.

"Yes ma'am," Joe complied, rushing to quickly unbutton his trousers with the gentlest touch he could manage. They were expensive and he wasn't going to be the one to explain to his stylist how he broke the zipper in the toilet stall of a pub. Joe breathed heavily and it fogged up his glasses a little. It made you moan at the sight.

"Thinks he can just casually walk around with them on, out and about, like it's no big deal," you had already hiked up your dress and had stuck the bottom hem of it into your cleavage so it would stay out of the way. It made Joe snicker a little.

"Resourceful," he said, shifting your panties to the side with the tip of his tongue stuck to his upper lip.

"Always," you said, sneaking your hands past the waistband of his boxer briefs, gasping at how hard he was already. "Jesus Christ, Joe," he was quite literally throbbing in your grip. "You've been groaning at me for hours," Joe reasoned, revealing he was well aware of the effect he'd been having on you all day and he didn't waste any more time, gripping one of your legs and placing your foot onto the toilet seat.

"Gross," you mustered before Joe captured your mouth in another hungry kiss, slowly tilting his hips to slide himself slide along your folds a couple of times.

"Don't think about it," he said before he let himself find your entrance, locking eyes with you and then slowly sliding in, making your jaw drop. Joe was fast to plant a palm over your opened mouth, knowing sound would escape it any second.

"So I guess I'll wear these more often," he whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, locking his glasses in between your faces, the plastic rim of them leaving marks on the both of you and he steadily picked up his pace.

You shook your head, barely able to get the word no past your lips as you looked at him, making strong eye contact through the lenses.

"It'll be the death of me," you panted, trying your very best to keep your voice down, moans and groans held back in your throat, fighting their way out of you any chance they got.

Joe chuckled lowly, "And what a heavenly way to go.".

-----

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland - add yourself

[pedroschka]

Baby got a temper

Joseph Quinn x reader (but basically just pure dad!joe)

Summary: a day in life of Joe and his toddler

it's been a while I'm sorryyy, I hope writer's block is unblocked now and I can finally finish all my Wip's, I feel much better right now

Surrounded by various pieces of paper and crayons Joe lies sprawled out on the living room floor with his little mini me beside him, both more or less concentrating as they busy themselves with drawing

You've been gone to a birthday party for your friend and that leaves him with a hopefully unadventurous father-and-son day, enjoying the quietness of his kid beside him while it lasts.

Unbothered as his son keeps walking around, looking for another colour, waddling over his paper before plopping down onto Joe's back and watching for a few seconds what his father's drawing before getting bored and sitting down in front of his own paper again, mimicking his dad by poking his tongue out while trying very hard to draw a perfectly round circle.

"Tadaa" Joe holds up his finished drawing, a scrawly drawn teddy bear with a green head and red bow tie, and shows it to his son, getting an unimpressed "humph" before holding his own paper up, a big mess of color and forms 

" Oh this looks fun, what is it ?" 

Wrong question.

His little face turns into a frown and he throws the crayon in his hand down in frustration, right on the paper in front of him leaving a bright red stroke over his painting, making the situation even worse and tears flooding his eyes 

 "A teddy!" the wailing begins and his small face starts to turn red, and Joe quickly tries to deescalate the situation again

"Of course! Silly me, Daddy forgot his glasses again. It's a very beautiful teddy! And so colorful!" 

grabbing the eraser he demonstrates to his son that the stroke is now gone and everything is fine again, promising to show his art right when mommy comes back home and pinning it on the fridge so everybody can see

Cuddling his mini-me into his chest and drying his tears he reckons that now is the perfect time for lunch, carrying the little highchair to the kitchen island so his son can help prepare his food.

Talking him through the steps as he helps him hold the butter knife while cutting the banana into slices, both of them keep snacking and leaving the plate a little less full-looking.

As his attention span seems to be at his peak again Joe let him go off to play again, keeping an eye on him as he continued preparing lunch for the two of them 

Joe still makes the mistake of opening the wrong drawers and cabinets, always forgetting that you two had to stack up everything in the highest drawers after the flour fiasco a few weeks ago when his baby was very set on helping you bake and accidentally spilled the flour all over him, leaving you and Joe a frantic mess trying to calm him down again which required a full bath and a cuddle session after to stop his hysterical crying that started to hurt your ears and your heart.

After lunch it's potty time, a routine you both try to stick with to potty train him, sitting him down and having to stay with him in the bathroom, Joe often gets told how intense his eye contact can be but his son is a whole new level, looking up with his deep brown eyes, probably pooping while staring into your soul.

Joe as always loses the staring contest when his son informs him to be finished with a small "done", praising him like he just won an Oscar he grabs a new toilet roll, ripping off a few sheets before hanging it back onto the wall not expecting the screech that followed his action and looking startled at his son

his son looks at him with a comical shocking expression before starting a whole tantrum, screaming, and shaking his arms around while Joe watches helplessly and completely lost of what just happened that could cause this complete mood change

" hey hey what's the matter little man, did you hurt yourself?"

Shaking his head and hiccuping, emotions flowing over and making it hard to articulate properly, leaving Joe to play the guessing game 

After a few more questions and checking on him to really make sure that nothing was hurt his little one nearly stabs him in the eye with an accusing finger at the toilet roll and screeched "It's the wrong way!!" Before stomping his tiny feet into the floor in frustration

Like a light bulb going off in Joe's head he puts two and two together, wanting to facepalm himself, having had the discussion of the " wrong side facing toilet roll" with you already on your first date but a whole tantrum about it was new to him, but he was sure he learned his lesson now 

joe quickly fixes his mistake "I'm sorry I didn't know, here now it hangs the right way"  

but his son just folded his little arms in front of him and pouted back at his dad, shaking his head again 

"No, it's dirty now!" 

"It's not, look? It hasn't touched the wall yet, all clean for your little butt "

Joe showed the few toilet paper sheets to him to inspect, wanting to roll his eyes when his son even looks under the paper before reluctantly letting Joe finally clean him up 

But no matter how challenging life with a toddler could get there are also always these moments he wanted to treasure, laying in bed at night with you snuggled to his side, getting woken up by clumsy tiny feet trying to navigate through the dark until his son is crawling over him and starfishing himself right in between you two and falls asleep with a content sigh and Joe swears he's the happiest man on earth.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[demonsanddemogorgons]

Most Precious Gift - A Joseph Quinn Christmas One-Shot

Just a little Christmas blurb I came up with. Enjoy.

It's almost Christmas and you just aren't in the mood for it without Joe around.

Word Count: 2k

18+ for language and mild/implied smut

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and you were at home getting dressed for your ultrasound shift at the hospital. Joe had been away for about a month for filming his new movie. You missed him beyond description, but you knew he still had work left to do. You walked through the kitchen to your entryway to put your shoes on, completely ignoring the undecorated state of your house. There was no point in decorating since Joe couldn’t be there to enjoy it with you. Your friends kept asking what you were doing for Christmas, and you were tired of responding with I don’t know, probably just stay home. They encouraged you to fly to where you grew up to be with your family since Joe wasn’t home, but you just weren’t feeling it. Spending the holidays without him just didn’t feel right, even if you were still with people you loved. You couldn’t wait for it all to be over so everyone’s cheer would stop making you want to vomit. Scrooge wasn’t half bad; he just wanted everyone to shut up about how happy they were. Holly Jolly was waaaaaay on the other side of the emotional spectrum from where you were.

You headed out to your car and began the drive to work, losing focus, wondering how Joe was doing, what he was doing right now in Malta, how filming was coming along. He hadn’t called or texted in two days; you tried not to be upset about it because you knew he was busy, and it was difficult with time changes. It was just hard being alone for so long and so close to Christmas.

You got to work and tried distracting yourself by indulging in it. If a patient arrived, you took them for their scan before a coworker even had a chance to get out of their chair. After a few hours of this, they began to notice.

“You’ve done like double the number of patients today that is typical, and we haven’t done anything. Take it easy, there’s three of us here today. You don’t need to overwhelm yourself,” your coworker Maddie said to you. You let your lips turn up into a small, not very reassuring smile.

“I’m just trying to focus on something else besides Joe,” you replied, feeling tears well up in your eyes and trying to hold them back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Being apart is never easy, but you don’t have to be alone. I’m having a Christmas Eve party tomorrow night. Why don’t you come over? I’m planning drinking games,” she smirked, nudging you with a giggle.

"I really appreciate that, Maddie, but I’m just not feeling it this year. I’d rather just stay on my couch and pretend it’s any other normal day.”

“Ignoring something doesn’t make it go away,” she said, her tone changing. You knew she was trying to be supportive, but you were getting that from everyone lately, and you were a bit over it. You were too emotionally disconnected at this point for anything to make an impact. You nodded and turned back to the computer to finish your paperwork on your last patient, trying to politely signal to her that the conversation was over. “Please let me do the next one. I really don’t want the supervisor asking why you did way more than the rest of us today,” she said as she walked back over to her chair, realizing you just needed left alone in your element.

You finished out your shift after trying to let Maddie and Lexie share some of the work, regardless of your apprehension.

“If you change your mind, the party is at 6 tomorrow at my place,” Maddie said as you were gathering your things and putting your coat on.

“Thanks,” you said somberly. You did appreciate her efforts deep down; it was nice to have someone to look out for you.

You headed home, eager to put on your fuzzy pajamas, fix yourself a cup of hot cocoa and plant your ass on the couch for the next two days. When you pulled into your driveway, your eyes were drawn to the front window where you could see twinkling lights. Upon looking closer, you saw your Christmas tree decorated and lit.

“What the...” you said out loud to yourself, trailing off. What? Who? How? You climbed out of your car and headed towards the door. Once getting inside, you took your shoes off on the welcome mat in the entry way and hung your coat on the hook, making your way into the kitchen. It was decorated with Christmas knick-knacks and tea towels – all kinds of things you had packed away in the basement and didn’t bother to get out this year. You passed through to the living room, seeing the Christmas tree decorated and lit, an evergreen garland lying out over the fireplace mantle with lights strung throughout it, stockings hanging, more knick-knacks set out, a Christmas blanket laid neatly on back of the couch, the works. Your heart swelled at the sight; you could feel that familiar feeling you normally got during the Christmas season washing warmth over you. But who-

Just then in your peripheral vision, you saw a figure pass into the room through the doorway beside the Christmas tree from the stairway. Your eyes changed focus to see Joe standing there, dressed in a Christmas sweater and jeans. It took you a minute to process what you were seeing so you were frozen, staring for a moment as your eyes widened.

“J-Joe?” was all you could muster out.

“Hey, lovey,” he said, making his way closer to you. He put his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his chest, pressing your face into him as he hugged you. Okay, he really is here. I can touch him, feel him, smell him. You pulled away and looked up into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were filming.”

He put his hand on your cheek and brushed his thumb along it.

“We got some things done ahead of schedule, so they gave us a break for the holiday,” he responded quietly and soothingly, looking down into your eyes with the most loving look.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you said with a giggle.

“Maybe this will help then, yeah?” he said with a smirk as he leaned in and put his lips on yours. Fireworks exploded in your head. You’d missed him so much, and every time he kissed you felt like the first time. Your lips parted slightly to allow his tongue to enter, running along your bottom lip. You hummed in response, moving your arms up to be around his neck and pull him closer as your lips worked in unison. You pulled away slowly and leaned your forehead against his.

“God, I’ve missed that,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled, rubbing his hands on your lower back as he held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much, too, darling.”

You pulled back a little to take another look at your freshly decorated house.

“Did you do all of this?” you asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Of course I did, baby. You love Christmas, why didn’t you decorate?”

You sighed and put your hands on his forearms, running your thumbs over them lovingly.

“I couldn’t, not without you. I hate celebrating knowing you’re working and can’t be here to enjoy it with me.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“I’m here now, love. I was hoping to catch you before you went to work, but my flight got delayed. I arrived not long after you left and saw the house undecorated. It made me so sad, darling; I know how much you love it to be. So, I decided to surprise you.”

You smiled up at him and pulled him in for another hug.

“Thank you. God, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, my love. And this isn’t the whole surprise.”

You pulled out of the hug and looked up at him in confusion.

“C’mere,” he said, dragging you to the kitchen pantry. He opened the door to show ingredients for cookies. “I thought we could spend the day together tomorrow baking Christmas cookies. I got everything for snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, those ones you like with the chocolate kiss in the middle. And for tonight, I got out the electric blanket and some chocolate covered pretzels. I’ll make up some hot cocoa, and we can watch Rudolph and Frosty together.”

Like the Grinch, you could feel your heart growing three sizes at his words. He was bringing the Christmas excitement back into you.

“Joe, that sounds perfect.” You pulled him in for another tender kiss. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

“I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re home. That’s the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

You looked up at him with a smirk.

“I have to be honest, Joe. I had a Christmas surprise put away for you that I didn’t expect to need, but now that you’re home...” you trailed off as he looked at you with a confused face. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Alright, love.” Joe reluctantly headed for the couch while you ran upstairs. What could she possibly be doing? You were gone for over five minutes when he began to wonder what was going on. He walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up.

“Darling? You alright?” he called.

“Yeah,” your voice echoed from the bedroom. “Almost done.”

Joe stood there confused, but his attention was quickly caught by you standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in a red bra and panties with white fluffy borders under an open red silk wrap, matching thigh high socks, and a Santa hat. You’d gotten a Christmas lingerie set to wear for him but didn’t expect to be using in this year since he wasn’t supposed to be home. His mouth fell open a little and his eyes widened as he watched you make your way down the stairs. Once you got to the second step from the bottom, he stood in front of you and looked up at you, as if to worship you, while reaching for you. He wrapped his arms around your thighs under your butt and lifted you to him. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked down at him. He placed kisses on your collarbone and chest.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin as he kissed, making you shiver. He was reacting exactly how you’d hoped he would. “Darling, I’d like to live to make it to Christmas,” he joked, earning a giggle from you.

“I don’t know, I think you’ll feel pretty alive after this,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss him.

He carried you back to the living room, his lips continuing their work on yours. He pulled away to throw you on your back onto the couch, and climbed down so he was hovering over you.

“I’ve been such a good boy,” he said softly, earning a smile and a giggle from you as he began kissing down your body, unwrapping his most precious gift with extreme care.

My Master List

The two cups of hot cocoa he had made while you were upstairs sat forgotten on the end table as red fabric was tossed onto the floor. Joe managed to bring the Christmas warmth and spirit back into you in more ways than one. You were truly a different person when he was around; he made you better in every aspect – sight, thoughts, actions. You didn’t need gifts to feel loved and appreciated. Joe was good at making you feel that way all on his own. He was the best gift you could have ever received, for any holiday.

[ediewentmissing]

“eh, what the foock is this?”

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I just need some random fluffy Joe texts please🥺 I miss him.

Hiii babes!! I get it, I miss him too so I hope you enjoy this!💖

*You just wanna know if Joe is busy or not so you can have dinner together*

[bigbaddie45]

Me:typing in “ character name” FLUFF!!!

Also me: *finds smut in the FLUFF tag*

[munsonsgirl71]

Part 1: Satan

A/N: Hehe I told y'all I had something new! Enjoy!!

If you don't like RPF keep scrolling... I do not care. 🤎

[archivequinn]

i love him.

[lovejosephquinn]

I firmly believe with my whole heart that Joe is a little manwhore in bed. 💀

He’d give you the best head of your life. He wouldn’t stop until you begged him to, constantly latching onto your clit, tongue flickering, lips sucking and teeth nibbling down onto it. Plunging his tongue through your aching hole and lapping up your slick, vibrations go through you at his humming approval. His main goal in life is to please you and when his thick fingers make an appearance and he curls them upward, stretching out your walls slightly, making you hiss yet arch your back in a heavenly state; you could simply die a happy girl.

His communication skills are next level, nothing short of a top tier listening experience. He’d go from whispering sweet nothings in your ear, letting you know how much of a good girl you were to calling you a slut in a minute. He’d praise you yet shame you. He’d love you yet defile you. It’s the best of both worlds. You just know that his moans and little whimpers and above all the full on use of profanities that bounce across the walls during would be enough to make your core explode.

He’d rather give than take, yet you see a whole new side to him when you’re on your knees sucking his length. His submissive side comes out and he’s groaning for you to fuck him with your pretty little mouth and when he practically begs for you to stop and you don’t, the way his breathing hitches and his whimpers become small cries, it’s the most demeaning yet sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You love to edge him and let him blow up, watching his body shake, toes curl, bottom lip bit down and eyes rolling back is a whole show he puts on, it’s a whole view and it’s worth the watch.

He doesn’t let you ever settle when he pushes inside of you, instead just rams his dick through your sodden entrance and fucks you senseless even if you protested that you couldn’t take anymore, breeding you in any and every position until he was completely spent. It’s evident that he’d worship the ground you walked on and one of his ways to show you is just by railing you into an eternal bliss. He’d still not feel like he’s shown you the true entity of his feelings, but you know you’ve got forever and there’s a whole load more where that came from; no pun intended.

And yes his favourite place to cum is inside of you, but he’s not opposed at making a mess elsewhere on your body, but he loves to see it when you clean up your own and his mess afterwards, sucking on your own and his fingers makes his eyes beam and his smile cheeky when you swallow the contents of your actions.

Just an assumption of course, though also the complete and whole damn truth 😵‍💫

[icallhimjoey]

Picture this: y/n comes home very drunk from a night out with her girlfriends and is trying to jump his bones the whole time while Joe is taking off her make up, giving her water, and changing her into comfy pajamas 🥰

just in time for halloween, i themed this request for all of my spooky babes (a little, it's whatever) enjoy! Wordcount: 2K

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Soft Hands

“Fuck. So, none of them fit?” you said, speech slurred slightly, giving your set of keys another double take. You tried to focus your eyes extra hard on them properly, again. Then you gave it another go, holding a key you knew wasn’t meant for this lock, but, maybe it was, you know? Couldn’t hurt to at least give it a little try.

Joe was laid out on the sofa, TV displaying a random Halloween film that was on with its volume turned low, his attention mostly on the phone in his hands.

He’d heard you from the moment the taxi doors had opened, filling your quiet street with loud girly screeches that shouted drunken heartfelt goodbyes and laughed when you had tried to slam the door shut, but missed the door entirely with your hands. You’d already committed your body weight into it and practically launched yourself onto the pavement. One of your friends had to then also climb out to make sure you were okay and had to drag you away from the car by your arms, so they’d be able to drive off without catching any of your limbs under the tires.

You were all giggles and swirly vision, which was ultimately why you’d tried to open your front door with the wrong keys.

After finally locating the right key, missing the lock with it about six times, suddenly, it fit, and you stumbled into your flat.

Joe couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself as he’d listened to you muttering swearwords under your breath outside on the doormat, eyes still glued to his phone.

He hadn’t gotten up to help but had instead been curious how long it was going to take you, gaging how drunk you were before he’d even laid eyes on you.

“Hands up, it’s the– it’s the police,” you spoke into your flat after slamming the door shut behind you and you heard Joe snicker from the sofa.

“Eddie, you’re a wanted fu– fugitive, give yourself–” you hiccuped as you slowly took careful steps into the living room, trying your very best to remain steadily on your feet.

“Give yourself up to the law,” it was difficult to remain stood up with your arms unable to help you balance yourself as you held out a plastic toy gun that scanned the room before it landed with its barrel pointed at Joe.

“Hopper...” Joe said from his spot on the sofa in an American accent as if he was stood face to face with his arch enemy.

Then he paused for just a second before laughing loudly and exclaiming, “Your full bum is out!”

It took you a second too long to pan your eyes down, noticing how your skirt had fully run up over your cheeks, exposing your underwear through your sheer tights.

You huffed a laugh at the look of it.

“Oh,” was all you could say before sloppily trying to straighten your outfit, but it was to no avail. You wanted to get out of it, anyway.

“Did you have fun?” Joe put his phone down and grinned at your messy hair, the aviator sunglasses all tangled up on top of your head, and Joe thought back to how just hours earlier you’d been faffing at it for ages with your straightener.

It had been a while since Joe’d seen you like this, a full mess of a girl.

You’d been stupidly excited for Halloween this year, but your boyfriend hadn’t been. For obvious reasons. Not in the mood to pose for a million photos with people dressed like Eddie Munson, he’d decided to just stay in for the night and maybe hand over some sweets if kids were to ring your doorbell.

You’d been all pouty and sulky about it – “Come on, dress up as Eddie yourself, no one will assume it’s actually you! – and even tried convincing him to come along by dressing up as a stupidly slutty sheriff, overdoing it completely.

Like you were meant to, on Halloween.

When your friends had picked you up earlier that evening, you'd pointed at your boyfriend and confidently said, "Don't wait up," before immediately regretting it, laughing, and saying, "No please wait up, I'm going to get so drunk.”

You'd been right.

When you’d stopped sending Joe pictures of you with random people dressed as Stranger Things characters and instead, had started trying to Facetime him, he knew it was only because you were too far gone to text coherently.

 “I got hit on tonight,” you replied to Joe’s question giddily, almost erratic, like you’d revealed a very exciting secret and stalked your way towards him.

“Did you?” Joe chuckled, still in the same relaxed position on the sofa, legs outstretched along the seats, moving them apart slightly as you got closer, bracing for impact.  

“I did,” you smiled until your eyes went squinty, so pleased with yourself for it.

“Everyone loved sexy Jim Hopper,” you let yourself fall onto Joe.

“Sexy Jim Hopper got a lot of free drinks tonight,” you sighed heavily, the alcohol thick on your breath, and you pressed your face into Joe’s chest. You could just go to sleep right there.

“Mmh, well,” Joe mused as he gave you a squeeze. “Sexy Jim Hopper smells like it too, come on,” Joe patted you on the bum, urging you to get up off of him as he tried to sit up himself.

You didn’t do anything to help him, eyes already closed, making Joe grunt loudly as he fought against the bodyweight of the two of you. He continued to push you back up onto your feet before guiding you to the bathroom by your shoulders.

Joe ended up having to curl his arm around you to open the bathroom door, because when you reached it, you just stood in front of it and held your toy gun in your hands, pressed up to the side of your face.

When the door swung open, you stretched your arms out and as you did, the toy slipped from your hands and loudly clanged as it landed in the tub.

“Jesus Chr– how many times have you done that tonight?” Joe ducked down and flinched in reaction to the sudden loud noises. You just gave him a dumb smile, remembering the amount of times you’d scurried across the length of the several bars and pubs you’d visited to retrieve your prop.

“Guns can be a weapon in more ways than the obvious one,” you tapped a finger to your temple as if you were feeding Joe a crumb of great wisdom. If you’d said it any slower, you’d have been talking backwards.

Joe pulled down the lid to the toilet seat and made you sit on it. He then reached for your toothbrush, dotted on a bit of toothpaste, and turned back to see you slumped back, head hanging totally unsupported, and your eyes closed.

“Baby, come on,” Joe said, not getting a reaction out of you. He looked at you a second, reached a hand over, hesitated for a moment, and then went for it anyway.

Hunching over you, he grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed his fingers together until your mouth opened. He was ready to brush your teeth for you like you were a toddler. You whined loudly, frowned deeply, and smacked his hand away before he could, though.

It resulted in your toothbrush falling from Joe’s hand and landing face down onto the tiles.

“What are you–” Joe started, then sighed, frustration building.

“Bed,” you moaned, reaching out to use Joe for leverage as you wanted to get back up on your feet.

“No, no. I remember you specifically telling me that I wasn’t allowed to let you fall asleep in your make-up,” Joe pushed you back down before reaching for your toothbrush and tossing it into the sink.

As his face moved closely in front of you, you suddenly grabbed hold of it with both hands, your grip entirely too strong for it to be cute or endearing. You squished his cheeks together, leaving his mouth a funny shape that you pressed a few rough pecks onto.

“Look at this man,” you said, and let your frown grow deeper as your grip became stronger.

You wanted to crush him like you’d want to squeeze cute kittens, entirely unable to handle the overwhelming feeling of adoration you felt.

“So handsome.”

Joe wrapped your hands into his own softly and then slowly pried them off him before pressing a kiss onto your lips. Drunk you had a weird way of showing affection, but Joe was kind of into it and he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged on his cheeks.

“I’ve been saying it all night,” you said, head now falling back against the wall behind you as you watched Joe reach for your make-up wipes.

“No thanks, I’ve got a handsome boyfriend. Thanks for the drink, I’ve got a handsome boyfriend. Shame my boyfriend’s not here, he’s very handsome.”

“Eyes closed,” Joe said, now holding a still folded wipe in his palm and when you closed your eyes, he swiped it across your cheeks with an incredibly careful touch.

“No,” you corrected him and pressed his hand harshly into your face. “More pressure, soft hands,” Joe huffed a laugh at the given nickname. 

Joe obliged, but when it came to your eyes, he didn’t want to hurt you. With soft downstrokes over your lashes, Joe wasn’t getting rid of any mascara or any eyeliner.

"Your hands, they're too soft!" you whined in annoyance before taking over, rubbing harshly at your eyes over the wet fabric.

“Careful!” Joe directed. “We’re removing the make-up, not your actual eyes,” and you giggled until it made you go floppy.

It took entirely too long, and way too much effort to eventually untangle the sunglasses from your hair, get you out of your outfit and miraculously to also brush your teeth.

When Joe finally announced that he was going to take you to bed, you’d wiggled two tired eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Oh yea? What’s my handsome boyfriend going to do to me?” you tried your best to be seductive, failing miserably in your drunken haze, barely able to carry yourself into your bedroom.

“Your tired boyfriend is going to make sure you don’t get any sick on the sheets or choke on your vomit,” he said, pushing you into your bedroom by the shoulders like he’d gotten you over into the bathroom earlier too.

“No, you’re so boring, I didn’t dress like that all night for you to just go to sleep,” you said, hands reaching behind you to grab at his crotch. Joe only narrowly managed to avoid them.

The second you saw the bed, though, you were gone. Plummeting into the pillows, you didn’t even bother getting under the covers properly.

So, Joe helped, slinging your legs into the bed, pulling the covers over you, placing a bucket down next to you alongside a tall glass of water on your bedside table with a painkiller carefully placed next to it for when you’d wake up the next morning.

When he got into bed next to you, Joe was surprised when you moved over closer to him as he got comfortable.

“Come here,” you said with your eyes closed, and Joe wasn’t sure if you were still awake, or talking in your sleep.

“Get it up here near my face, I’ll suck you off,” and Joe paused to look at you, a laugh stuck in his throat, ready to slip out at a moment’s notice, but then he swallowed it when he saw that you’d truly fallen asleep now.

“Sleep tight,” Joe pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around your waist, fingers curling 'round the side of it and nuzzling into you before letting himself drift off to sleep as well.

-----

(yea i added that pic after the portland '24 con bc of what he said, sue me)

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The Taglisted: @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @thefemininemystiquee @dirtyeddietini - add yourself  

[pedroschka]

Flatmates with benefits

Joseph Quinn x reader

Summary: Having the perks of a relationship while still staying single sounds like the perfect combination until it just doesn't cut it anymore.

words: 2,3 K

warning: SMUT 18+ , the Poll has spoken and you shall receive the filth (can't blame y'all after the Dior ad)

dropping his keys onto the little table beside the front door and slipping his shoes off before making his way through the small flat, haphazardly throwing his jacket over the next chair, fancy trousers and expensive button-up joining on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he stepped into his bedroom and let himself fall face first into the mattress, too exhausted to even roll himself under the covers.

Stepping over the line of clothing scattered around like a scavenger hunt, not even thinking about tidying up after him you walked into his bedroom and were met by the sight of Joe starfished on his bed with his sock-clad feet dangling over the edge, using this opportunity you slapped his cute little boxer clad arse before plopping yourself beside him, mattress bouncing from the impact

"Long day?" You leaned onto your elbow, an amused snort leaving you when the only response you got was a tired groan into the bedsheet

turning his head a little to the side his squinty eyes meet yours

" So glad to lay in my own bed instead of sitting on an hour-long flight first, back's killing me "

Your lips pressed into a frown and you got up on your knees, pressing your hands into his shoulders, getting a relieving moan from him.

While massaging his stiff back you carry on with light conversation, updating each other on your days, Joe getting the bigger part of course, due to his return of his comic con weekend, telling you about the most rememberable fan encounters, promising you to go through the presents later together, your favourite part.

"Better?" You asked him as you spend approximately 10 min kneading his back like pizza dough, hands feeling all tingly.

" So much better " he sleepily replied, eyes barely open before moving his arm behind your neck to tackle you down beside him, squeezing you into his chest. A non-negotiable invitation to nap with him that you can't resist

balancing on a very thin line between relationship and hook-up, you two jokingly call it flatmates with benefits, due to your living situation, but the benefits part steps more and more into the background , making room instead for sharing the bed for naps, cuddle sessions on the sofa, daily updates on your days, basically creating a whole routine for you two together, clinging onto each other like magnets on a fridge.

The absurdity of your situation is both of you clear, sleeping together, living together, spending your time together as much as possible, and still too cowardly to call it what it is. A relationship.

Not feeling ready to fully commit while always having the last bad relationship in the back of your mind, lying to yourself thinking the only way to feel really happy is to not let anyone else too close to you and steal your independence and freedom, not daring to emotionally commit to something that's so fragile.

Benefiting of the perks of both single and relationship life seems like the perfect answer until you realize that you're not even interested in exploring with other people, or not even feeling restricted in your freedom or life choices, content with just this one person who seemingly already ticks off all your boxes and makes you feel safe.

---

Flat a mess again and you both running around like headless chicken trying to get ready before the uber arrives to bring you to a get-together thingy with the stranger things cast , you as usually beeing Joe's plus one.

Meeting him at the front door last minute, raising your eyebrows at his mismatched outfit again and regretting not laying out an outfit for him, but as always he managed to look good anyway so you let it go for now.

Arriving at the event and promptly getting a glass of champagne pushed into your hand before following Joe around, letting him introduce you to everyone, making quick small talk, ordering more drinks, more socializing, a constant buzz of tension in your body and the pressure of presenting yourself to everyone just right, not wanting to destroy the picture of Joe that everyone has on their own already with you rubbing them the wrong way and letting them associate this with him.

Joe excused himself to the toilet after whispering to you that he might have pissed himself a little after laughing too hard, as always too much information but making you snort and shoo him away, getting yourself comfortable on the nearest bar stool and busy yourself with people watching until Joe's coming back.

a tap on your shoulder making you jump lightly, forcing yourself to look away from the couple in the back heavily making out and instead looking eyes with a familiar face but already forgotten name, instantly putting your welcoming smile back on.

" Finally someone with the same fashion sense as me! "

Looking at him questionably and then looking down at your outfit and indeed finding the same striking colorful pattern as his shirt

" yeah Joe hates this one so that's why I'm wearing it"

snorting he leaned onto the bar " because he's one to talk"

" right?? Look at him stumbling through the world like a toddler who was allowed to dress himself for the first time"

Getting a chuckle in return he introduced himself as Joe Keery, getting a fake annoyed groan from you for yet another Joe introduced to you as if one wasn't enough already.

Laughing together when he gives you insides on a few behind-the-scenes stories of your Joe that he seemed to forget to tell you about, jokingly punching him in the shoulder when he's making fun of his Eddie wig.

Joe watches from afar, an ugly feeling forming in his stomach making its way to his heart, weighing it down like a bag of bricks. He knew it wasn't for Kerry himself, being absolutely loyal to his partner and just being the friendly guy he is, trying to make you feel more comfortable in a sea of unknown and famous people but making him realize again how you are free to be with whoever you like, taking back into the flat whoever you desired to, with Joe just a wall away, torturing himself with listening instead of plugging in his headphones and blasting his sorrow away with the heaviest music he can find.

Being reminded that no matter how close you two become, how many secrets were whispered into each other's ears before crawling back under the covers, giggling like naughty teenagers, knowing that he can't feel secure with you because you are not only his to be held by.

A mix of anger, sadness but mostly frustration starts to boil inside of him as he makes his way towards you two, happily chatting with each other, but he wouldn't be an actor if not using it for his own benefit, and nothing is easier than putting on a happy face and Inserting himself into a conversation like nothing happens, exhausting himself while pushing his true feelings back down, not the right place nor the right time.

the night finally neared its end and you two are going your rounds again, saying goodbye to everyone, how great it was to meet each other, sleekly going around the forgotten name dilemma.

You hugged Joe 2 goodbye, a genuine smile on your face and making promises of meeting up as soon as possible, jokingly reminding him that Joe has his number so there's no running away from you.

finally stepping out into the cool night air you breathe out an exhausted sigh

" Gosh I'm in need of a week of as little human interaction as possible after this evening, like another quarantine but voluntary you know?"

" Hmhm "

You gave Joe a strange look, watching him seemingly lost in thought, a deep frown forming between his brows and fidgeting with his ring around his finger.

"Maybe we could invite Joe 2 the next time we go out eating with Jamie, so I don't feel like I'm third wheeling between you two again" you joked and checked Joe's reaction, hoping for a small jest back as always when mentioning Jamie and him but the frown just seemed to deepen

" Yeah…maybe "

"You good? Too many dirty martinis again?"

This brings a small smile to his lips, eyes twinkling when he finally meets yours again

"never"

Joe felt something shift inside of him, an urge growing inside, like that night was the last straw he needed to say fuck it, wanting to say fuck it, fuck it to all his insecurities and fears that stopped him from living out his true feelings for you, always restraining himself from the next step that could lead to something stable, he needed something to hold onto, a firm foundation under his feet when everything else in his life was just loose and unpredictable.

But Joe was never the best with words, learning them of a script, speaking them out as someone else, sure, but when it comes to being himself and being vulnerable he found it easier to just show it in physical actions, using his body to talk, or like now letting his body take control and not his mind.

Stopping at the front door to fiddle out your keys with Joe standing suspiciously close behind you, just managing to click the lock open before loosing the ground under your feet and letting out a surprised squeak as Joe manhandles you onto his shoulder, feet swinging widely, screeching at him to let you down while giggling with your head hanging on the same height as his butt.

Joe's loud laughter fills the foyer, warning you to hold still before speeding down the hallway to your bedroom and plopping you down on the bed.

Your Hair a wild mess around you and wide eyes staring up at Joe, the air between you grew thicker, switching from childish laughter to heating gazes and before you could blink you were all over each other, breathing each other's moans, tongues fighting for dominance while hands grabbing desperately at hair and clothes, fingers fiddling with his damn buttons on his shirt and letting out an impatient whine when it won't come open and he had to clumsily do it himself before his hands start to roam over your body again, taking your top of and throwing it in Joe fashion somewhere behind him, leaving kisses and nibbling all along from your neck to your breast, licking over your nipples before continuing his journey down your stomach

Finding the hem of your pants he didn't waste any time shoving them, together with your underwear down to your knees, pushing your legs up to your chin and making direct eye contact before going down on you like it's his last meal.

Throwing your head back with a surprised moan, fingers searching for something to hold onto, pulling on his curls and thrusting your hips up, riding his face and feeling your high already creeping close.

two of his thick fingers gliding inside, parting you all while continuing to play you with his tongue like his favourite instrument, leaving you with shaking legs not long after.

With your mind still clouded you yelped as you suddenly got dragged forward, pants and underwear gone with a swift movement and his hands under your thighs, Lifting you up and leaving you no chance than to cling onto his shoulders

Painfully slow he eased himself inside, finding his lips again, muffling both of your moans when he starts thrusting up. You increase your grip on his shoulders as he kept going faster and harder, his heavy breathing beside your ear as he has you jumping and yelping on his cock, still sensitive from your first orgasm he leaves you in no control of how fast the second one arrives, leaving scratches across his upper back in return.

Joe throws you onto the mattress again, breathing heavily, chuckling as you blinked up at him with this hazy look in your eyes.

"can you take more?"

"Can you?" You asked him in return, challenging him.

Fueled by all the pent-up emotions, and feelings he still doesn't know how to properly articulate yet Joe crawls over you, needing to see your face and giving him all the answers he needs.

every thrust a word, holding your face tenderly in one hand while pounding into you without mercy, taking in every moan and whimper you breathed out.

Your body is moving with every thrust and every thought or doubt that was once occupying your brain leaves you, fully emerging in the feeling of Joe and only him, trying to hold his gaze but it's all getting too much and you're curling your arms around his neck bringing him down to you, desperately clawing at his back when the third wave of pleasure washes over you, body getting stiff and you hold your breath before falling slack against his arms.

" I love you " the choked confession comes over him as he makes his last thrusts into you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed but also relieved to finally got it out, just not the moment he had in mind for it

Eyes growing wide at first, needing a few seconds for your brain to register the words, feeling his heart beating heavily against your chest, you stroked over his back to his neck before moving his head so you can see his face, needing a confirmation that he meant it

glazed brown eyes looked unsure into yours, looking so vulnerable beside you and making your heart leap inside your chest

"I love you too"

Relief visible relaxing his body he touched his forehead with yours before going in for another kiss, still needy but more at peace with the world around him, feeling secure in your hold and loved.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[demonsanddemogorgons]

Decided to write a little Joseph Quinn something with an idea I had bouncing around in my head 🥰🤟

One Day At A Time (Joseph Quinn x Reader One-Shot)

Eight years. That's how long you have been with your husband, married for the last three. You had spent years pushing your feelings down your throat and feeling like a broken record from repeating yourself all the time with no change. You were exhausted with having one-sided conversations about your feelings. Nothing seemed to stick with him. If you had interests, to him, they were obsessions. If you wanted to go out on a Saturday night with your friends, you were an alcoholic. If you were upset, it was an inconvenience that earned eye rolls as he asked, what now? No matter how many times you sat down to try to be civil and explain how he made you feel, it was either dismissed or he would be better for a week or two and then go right back to his usual self. This ongoing cycle had gotten old, and you decided enough was enough. You sat him down and said you were done; you couldn't take anymore. You knew deep down it was the right decision, but it still hurt. You spent eight years with him after all – since you were nineteen. You didn't know how to exist without him, how to be single. So much had changed in dating life since you had met him; it felt like you were suddenly dropped into deep water in which the waves were a little too high. How do you handle this? Beginning the divorce process was stressful enough and then you had to worry about the shit show of a dating pool that existed these days on top of it. One step at a time, you told yourself. One worry at a time. Easier said than done.

You had agreed to let your soon-to-be ex-husband keep the house. He had paid for most of the renovations that had been done since buying it, so you felt it was only fair and you preferred a fresh start. The two of you didn't have children together so there wasn't much to sort out other than that. You found an apartment that was just enough for you. You didn't need much; the newfound space you had was quite refreshing, but your mind also struggled with the new sense of loneliness as well. You knew things would get better; it was just a big adjustment. After a Saturday afternoon of going through your things and packing at the house, you decided you needed a break, and perhaps a few drinks to relax your rushing mind and crushed spirit. You grabbed what you had packed so far and stacked it in the trunk of your car, heading towards your favorite bar, one you frequented when you were in the particular mood to not pay any mind to your husband's "alcoholic" comments and enjoy some time with your friends.

You pulled into the only remaining parking space left. Hands still on the wheel, you shut your eyes and sighed. I can do this. You tried reassuring yourself on occasion, but it didn't help much; it just felt like you were lying to yourself. You opened your eyes, grabbed your purse, and headed inside. You found a seat at the bar and were greeted by Sam, the bartender that was always here when you were in the past.

"How's it going? Been a while."

"Hey, Sam," you replied to him a bit dryly, your eyes looking down at the bar top. He sensed you weren't yourself. You wouldn't consider Sam a close friend, but close enough. You'd only known him from going there, but he had enough conversations with you over the bar that he could tell things were off with you, and from prior drunken nights and talks, he was very much aware of your home issues you'd had. He had been a set of ears when you needed them, even though he didn't have to. It was a bit embarrassing for you. He dealt with so many drunk people on a daily basis; your problems were probably the last thing he wanted to deal with, but he listened and supported nonetheless, and that's more than you could have ever asked for.

"You seem down. You good?"

"I left him," was all you could force out in monotone, finally looking up from the bar to his face. His eyebrows raised and eyes widened slightly at the realization of what you'd just said.

"Tequila sunrise coming right up," he said as he turned without missing a beat to go mix your favorite drink, knowing you needed the alcohol in your system sooner rather than later. He really did get you most of the time.

You were nearly done with your second tequila sunrise when a guy made his way to the bar and sat in the empty seat beside you. You didn't bother looking up; you just stared at what was left of your drink, swirling the bottom of the cup against the bar top absentmindedly. You could see him watching you in your peripheral vision as he took his coat off and hung it on the back of his chair, but your eyes stayed fixed on your glass.

"Rough week?" you heard come from his direction. You finally looked over at him, trying not to look smug but not too happy either; you didn't need the whole world to know you were going through some shit, but it must have been plastered all over your face, nonetheless. He was rather cute. He was dressed in black trousers and a maroon button up shirt that was partially unbuttoned at the top to show a bit of his chest. He had short light brown hair with longer slicked-back curls on the top of his head, one rogue one hanging down over his forehead, and short scruff for facial hair. His eyes, however, are what grabbed your attention - big chocolate brown doe eyes. You had never seen such a beautiful sight on any man. You finally noticed you were lost in him when his expression turned to confusion from you taking too long to answer him. You blushed and cleared your throat, looking away from those damned eyes so you could focus.

"Y-yeah, that's one way of putting it, I guess," you responded through a breathy embarrassed chuckle, swirling your drink again and taking a sip. He just looked at you for a second before extending his hand out to you.

"I'm Joe," he said with a small smile. You told him your name as you sat your drink down and shook his hand gently.

"I've never been. What's good?" he asked. Your eyes widened. You'd finally caught it, the British accent. You were in the middle of wondering what a cute British man was doing in the middle of small-town America when you had to remind yourself to answer him. You didn't need a repeat of what just happened a minute ago.

"Uh-umm, I like the tequila sunrise," you answered, gesturing to your nearly empty glass. Joe smiled as Sam made his way over.

"What can I get you?" Sam asked him.

"I'll try a tequila sunrise," he said as he smiled at you. "And put another one on my bill for the lady, yeah?"

You looked at him with a shy smile and your cheeks flushed red as he winked at you. As Sam turned to start making the drinks, he gave you the look - the wide eyes that say, are you seeing this shit? Go for it. You looked down with a smirk as you read Sam's expression, trying not to let Joe see.

"So, you're British," you said awkwardly in attempt to start a new conversation to distract you from what had just happened. Joe chuckled at your observation.

"Indeed, I am, last I checked," he smirked. Oh, a jokester. Alright.

"What are you doing in the middle of nowhere in America?" you asked him. He adjusted himself on his chair to make himself more comfortable to talk.

"I'm here for work."

"Your job brought you here?" you chuckled in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm an actor. I'm working on filming a movie close to here. Just enjoying a night out in a less chaotic environment."

"That's really cool. But let me warn you, this place can get pretty rowdy on Saturdays. Sam breaks out in song with the karaoke machine, Jerry over there dances on the bar," you joked, giggling at the smile forming on Joe's face. He was more so excited that he had just told you he's an actor and you didn't get too overly excited about it like a lot of other women had. It was nice for someone to enjoy Joe's company for once, not Joseph Quinn's. You were also surprised at your sudden mood boost. How did someone you just met five minutes ago make you forget about your problems so easily?

"So, what about you, love? What's your story?" he asked as Sam sat your drinks down in front of each of you. Your heart sank. Where would you even begin?

"I grew up here. Just having a Saturday night to myself."

"Well, I hope I'm not intruding," Joe said with concern. You shook your head.

"No, of course not."

"You seemed a bit depressed when I came in. I know I'm a bit of a stranger, but if you want to talk about it, a bar buddy you may never see again is a good place to start," he smirked. You smiled at him and sighed. This man was something else.

"I just recently left my husband," you started. Joe's face turned serious as he readjusted himself in his seat. He leaned closer to listen intently as he then knew the gravity of your sadness. "Things just weren't working, and for a really long time. I just kept lying to myself by saying he would change eventually, but he never did. After I spent so much time being undervalued and unheard, I just decided enough is enough. I thought it would make me feel better but it's just so new that it still hurts. I wanted more than anything to make things work but his ego was more precious, I guess."

Joe just sat in silence for a moment to process what you'd said. He could tell you were upset but he never guessed it would be because of something that severe. He felt guilty for asking and making it all cross your mind again. You were there to forget, after all.

"I'm so sorry, darling," Joe said, reaching over and placing his hand on your upper arm in an attempt to provide some comfort.

"It's been hard. I'm just trying to put myself first now, but I don't even know how to do that. I've just been settling and dealing for so long."

"Leaving was the first step to putting yourself first. I'd say you're doing alright so far," he reassured you. "Just take one day at a time."

You smiled up at this complete stranger, who was listening to you more in one evening than your husband ever listened to you in eight years. It made tears well up in your eyes.

"One day at a time," you repeated. Joe saw your tears forming and put his hand on top of yours.

"What a wanker," he mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to catch.

"What?" you asked with a giggle. You had heard him, but you weren't quite sure you'd heard him correctly. He looked at you and moved closer, leaning his elbow on the bar to put more weight into holding your hand.

"I said 'what a wanker,' your husband is, for pushing a beauty like you away. Has no sense of pride, and bloody terrible judgement."

You blushed as you placed your other hand on top of Joe's that held yours. You could see Sam watching from across the bar, pretending to wash pint glasses but looking at the two of you through his eyelashes, a smirk on his face. Bastard had to encourage you, didn't he? Even if it was wordless.

"Remember how you said you would be a bar buddy that I would never see again?" you asked Joe. He nodded, his eyebrows perplexed. "Can we change that?"