#Soggy Joe

[blueyes908]

Twitter art requests

[amphibia-a-day]

Day 651 of Amphibia Screenshots

Episode: Fight or Flight

[a-chaotic-dumbass]

swore off of bashing the men my friends r into from now on bc tell me why was joe kinda...

[doomstonee]

soggy sad looking french man does the skedaddle

[taylorswiftpropaganda]

“He's remained so stoically silent about their split”

“He helped her with song writing on her past album”

“Ge has removed himself from her narrative and is very glad, he did”

girl please fucking destroy this man.

[lerios]

Joe Starlinggggg 💖💖💖

lmao OF COURSE you both see the word "blorbo" and immediately think of joe. based and correct he is the ultimate useless soggy meow meow

i need to ruin his life and put him in even worse Situations uwu 🥰

[realjoehours]

just devoured the worst toast i’ve ever made in my life

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.

*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do… Here is part two! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.

What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?

He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.

Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.

Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.

When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.

He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.

It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.

He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.

A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.

None of them looked like you.

He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.

He soon found out you had zero social media presence.

He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.

He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?

He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.

Huh.

He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.

He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.

He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.

He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.

Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.

Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.

He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?

He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.

“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“

He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.

The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.

[yournewfriendshouse]

this is how I eat many foods. mostly because I hate sloppy (foods) and love activities

In what world is a sloppy joe not a sandwich?

it literally goes in a bowl what are you talking about???

[lonestatus]

sloppy joe is maybe the worst thought-out dish ever. i cant imagine a situation where id want a loose-meat sandwich over a regular one and to add to it all its soggy meat so the slider bun dissolves. i have a theory it could work if it was put on top of some rice or noodles if you changed the recipe a little but otherwise its such a failure. even pita like you put it in a big bowl add some more spice and scoop some onto some pita. what the fuck

[slunariejoeandriascult]

Poor Soggy Joe

[sweetspring13]

Under the weather hugs

Joe knocked on the hardwood door and could immediately hear the soft shuffle of feet on the other side. The door creaked open, revealing Taylor bundled in a cozy sweater, her nose red and her eyes slightly watery.

"Hey, you," Joe greeted, leaning in for a hug. He kissed her forehead softly, noting the warmth of her skin.

Taylor hugged him back tightly but soon pulled away, coughing into her elbow and then sniffling, rubbing her nose with her wrist. "Sorry, I’mb a little under the weather… snff… I thidk I’mb catchidg a cold or sobethidg… snff... snff..."

Joe rubbed her back gently, concern in his eyes. "Are you sure you want to go out? We could just stay in and watch a movie or something."

Taylor shook her head, giving him a reassuring smile despite her congested voice. "Id’s jusd sobe sdiffles... Sniffle... I’ll be fide."

She grabbed her coat, and they stepped out into the chilly air, the cool air hitting them full force as they started walking.  As they walked around the park, Taylor kept sniffling stuffily between words, and wiping her nose with the back of her hand "So, how´s the movie?" she asked, her voice thick with congestion.

Joe glanced at her, smiling softly. "It was good. Busy, but good. We're wrapping up some scenes now, and it's coming together nicely. What about you?"

"Hhh...hhih...hhetxchew!! Snfl...ughh, I’ve beed doihg this the whole day... snffl." Taylor sneezed suddenly, pulling a travel pack of tissues from her purse. She dabbed at her nose, sniffling again.

Joe rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Bless you! Are you sure you don´t wanna go back? This chill can't be good for you right now."

Taylor shook her head, her voice determined despite her stuffed-up nose. "Yeah, I´mb fide.. snffl.. I wadt to get sombe coffee firshh... huhh...first... heehh...hhehiishOOoo!!! Snfl..." Another shiver ran down her spine as she pitched forward with another desperate sneeze, her hands cupped to her face. "Aahh...snfl...ahht'CHSHXT!!! ...Ughh."

“Woah.. God bless you!” Joe said rubbing his hand up and down her back as she sniffled and collected herself, as gently steered them toward a nearby coffee shop. “Let's go in and warm up a bit."

He pushed the door open and let her in first. They chose a small table in the corner, and a moment later, an old waitress came to take their order. Taylor started to speak, but a stuffy and sickly-sounding sneeze interrupted her. "Can I get a skinny carmell latte with sombe aldmond mbilk with... huhh..." Her voice turned into a breathless, hitching whisper as she squeezed the pink rims of her nostrils through the soggy tissue, eyes halfway closed. "Hhehh...snfl...ehh'chiiihew!!!"

She sneezed, and in an effort to keep from coughing, she didn’t blow her nose, which would have required a semi-deep breath. Instead, she just sniffled and massaged her nose in the damp tissue. The waitress, standing there with sympathy in her eyes, told her, "Oh my! Bless you sweetheart. That's quite the head cold you've got there! You should be tucked into bed right now."

Taylor nodded gratefully, "Exgcuse mbe.. Snffl” Taylor thanked her and finished her order, then Joe made his. Before the waitress could leave, Taylor sniffled congestedly and asked, “Cad we get sombe mbore napkings, please? snfl..." as she wiped her nose with the now very overused soggy tissue. The waitress nodded promissing she would be right back.

As they waited for their drinks, Taylor and Joe caught up on their days apart. He began to tell her stories from the movie he was filming. "So, we had this one scene where everything was supposed to go smoothly, but the props kept malfunctioning. It was hilarious. One of the guys tripped over a cable and almost took down the entire set!"

Taylor giggled, which quickly turned into a series of coughs. She sniffled wetly, reaching for her crumpled tissues. "I cad just picture that. Snff... sounds like a crazy day...snfl."

“Yeah, it was! It´s this one scene where the director wanted this dramatic rain effect. They had these huge hoses and it was just—” Joe paused, watching Taylor's eyes flutter closed again.

“Huhh… hheh… heht’CHOO! Huh… hhhehtSHOO!” Taylor sneezed into her tissue, then sniffled wetly. “Sorry, Joe. Snff. Go od...”

He smiled sympathetically. "Bless you. Anyway, the rain was more like a waterfall. The whole cast was soaked, and the director was furious because the scene wasn’t supposed to be that wet."

Taylor giggled, but it turned into a cough. She quickly covered her mouth with her tissue, then wiped her nose again. "Oh mby god! Add could you mbake it right?."

Joe chuckled. "Yeah, it was a mess. But it’ll make a great blooper reel."

Their drinks arrived, along with extra napkins. "Thagk you," she said to the waitress, who smiled kindly and walked away. Taylor grabbed a handful and blew her nose vigorously, her face scrunching up in discomfort.

“You really are having a tough time with that cold. Aren´t you?” he said gently.

Taylor wiped her nose one more time and nodded. "Yeah, I don´t kdow where id cambe fromb… snff… I was fide yesterday… Snff… I'b just glad I'b dot workidg this week."

They sat for a while longer, Taylor sneezing and sniffling, Joe talking softly about his work and making her laugh. Despite her cold, Taylor felt glad they had gone on this little date after not seeing each other for a few weeks. As she took her last sip, Joe looked at her with a gentle smile. "Ready to head home?"

Taylor nodded, sniffling again. He signaled for the waitress to bring them the bill. She walked over with a warm smile.

"Here's your bill, dears," she said, placing it on the table.

As Joe pulled out his wallet, Taylor's breath hitched again. "Huhh... huhh... HUH’ISHHOO! Snfl..." She quickly grabbed a napkin, blowing her nose with a grugly and stuffy sound. The waitress looked at her with sympathy.

"Bless you, sweetheart," she said, shaking her head slightly. "You really should be in bed right now, nursing that cold. And you," she turned to Joe with a mock stern look, "you better take good care of this poor thing. What were you thinking, taking her out while she's this sick?"

Joe smiled sheepishly, nodding in agreement as he handed her his card. "I know, we’re heading straight home after this.”

The waitress nodded approvingly. “Good. You make sure she’s warm and has plenty of fluids. And maybe some soup if you can manage it.” She winked at Taylor, who managed a weak smile.

“Thagk you,” Taylor said, her voice barely a whisper through her congestion.

Joe quickly paid the bill, leaving a generous tip as a token of gratitude for the waitress’s kindness. They both thanked her again and stood up to leave. Taylor making sure she grabbed a few napkins for the way home. Joe helped her with her coat, and they made their way to the door.

As Joe pushed the door open, a gust of cold air hit them, causing Taylor to shiver. Her breath hitched once more, and she sneezed violently, doubling over. “Huhhh... hehhh... heht’SHOO! Hheh... hehh... hheh’CHSHOO!!”

Joe rubbed her back soothingly as she sniffled and wiped her nose with a fresh napkin. “Bless you, Tay. Let’s get you home.”

Taylor nodded, leaning into Joe for support. They walked slowly, Joe’s arm around her shoulders, providing warmth and comfort as they made their way back to her house. "I'b really sorry for ruiding our date... snff." She told him as they walked wrapped around each other.

"Hey, you're not ruining anything," Joe reassured her, kissing the top of her head. "I just want you to feel better."

“I kdow.. I just.. Snffl.. We habe beed so busy lately ahd I wandted to.. snffl.. Uhhh...hh...hhet'tchshh!! ...Ugh, 'scuse be...hhh...hhtxchsht!!.. Snfl..”” Taylor doubled over and sneezed desperately into one hand; eyes squeezed shut. Before she'd even opened them again, she felt her boyfriend´s arm around her shoulders, and a warm kiss on her forehead. “Bless you love,” Joe murmured low in her ear, with another kiss for good measure. “Don´t worry about any of that. I´m just happy to spend time with you, I don’t care where. Come on, let's get you home.” He rubbed her back as she wiped her stuffy nose “'Kay,” Taylor agreed woozily, a weak smile spreading across her pale face as she allowed her boyfriend to steer her towards the warmth of the house. ------

Once they got home, Joe helped her out of her coat and guided her to the couch, spreading a warm blanket around her shoulders, as she reached for some tissues in the coffee table.

"How about I make you some tea?" Joe offered, heading to the kitchen.

Taylor sniffled, her voice muffled from under the tissues. "Thadk you. That sounds really good right dow."

Joe busied himself in the kitchen, soon returning with a steaming cup of tea. He handed it to Taylor, who accepted it with a grateful smile. She took a small sip, savoring the warmth.

"You really are the best," she said, her voice still thick with congestion.

Joe sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Am I?" He said playfully, leaning into her

Taylor nodded, pressing a small peck on his lips, which he eagerly returned, multiple times, making her giggle.

The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the TV screen as a movie played. Taylor nestled comfortably against Joe's side. She had been sniffling constantly, her nose clearly congested and runny. Every so often, she wiped her nose on her sleeve, the wet sniffling sounds becoming more frequent as the movie progressed.

The warmth and comfort of their position made it hard for her to move. "Hh...snff...Snffl..." She sniffled wetly, trying to keep her nose from dripping. Joe glanced down at her and saw her wiping her nose on her sleeve once more. He gently reached over to the table, grabbing the box of tissues. He placed it in her lap and pulled out a few tissues, handing them to her.

"Here you go, Tay" he said softly, a gentle smile on his face.

Taylor let out a small, embarrassed laugh and took the tissues. "Thadk you... sorry... snff," she mumbled, blowing her nose with a gurgling sound. She snuggled back into Joe, holding the tissues close.

They continued watching the movie, occasionally talking about the plot. Taylor couldn't help but sneeze a few more times, her nose seemingly relentless.

"Huh... HAH'tchoo! Snfl..." She sneezed into a tissue, sniffling afterward.

"Bless you, T" Joe said as the blonde girl sniffled and hitched again, raising her head woozily..

“Th-thadks,” Taylor sniffled, eyes barely open as she pressed the clean tissue firmly to her glistening nostrils, already trembling wide open again in helpless anticipation. “Uhh'tcheww!! *Snfl*...Hh—hhh—hhehiiishu!!! *Snfl,*” The blonde girl sneezed  desperately, sniffled, and sneezed again, bobbing forward on the couch in helpless submission. “Ughh, snffl.. this sucks” She groaned softly, opening her bleary eyes and sniffling wetly behind the tissue, giving her nose a firm rub.

“I know baby, I´m sorry you feel bad” He tells her rubbing her back. She gives him a small smile and cuddles herself into his side again.

As the movie went on, Taylor's eyes grew heavy. She leaned more into Joe, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. After a while, she drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and even. He gently shifted to make her more comfortable, letting her rest peacefully against him as he watched the rest of the movie quietly, careful not to disturb her. When the credits rolled, he looked down at Taylor, who was still sound asleep.

“Tay, hey, wake up,” he whispered softly, brushing her hair back.

Taylor stirred, blinking sleepily. “Huh? Whad’s... Snff... What´s going on?”

“You fell asleep baby,” Joe said gently. “Come on, let´s go to bed.”

Taylor sleepily protested, “We cad stay here... Snff... It’s fide.” she mumbled; her voice thick with sleep.

Joe shook his head, helping her sit up. “Come on, baby, you´ll sleep better in our bed. I promise”

Taylor nodded groggily, too tired to argue and allowed Joe to help her up, and they made their way to the stairs. As they walked towards the stairs, the chilly temperature change made her nose tickle again. “Wait.. I.. huhh” She paused, her breath hitching, and she turned to sneeze into her elbow. “Huhh... hhehh... hehh’CHOO! Hhehh... hheh’TSHOO! Snff, snff...”

Joe kept a steadying hand on her back. “Bless you, Tay.”

They made their way up the stairs, Taylor sneezing a few more times as they went. Finally, they reached her bedroom. Joe helped her into bed, tucking the blankets around her snugly. He took a tissue box from the bathroom and placed it on her nightstand, handing her a couple, which she gratefully used to blow her nose again.

“Thagk you, Joe,” she said, her voice a soft murmur as she settled into her pillow.

Joe smiled, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. "You're welcome, Taylor. Now get some rest and feel better soon."

Taylor smiled up at him, her eyes already closing. “Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Goodnight,” Joe responded, walking into the other side of the bed and watching her drift off to sleep. ------

Taylor woke up feeling like she'd been hit by a truck. Every muscle in her body ached, her ears were blocked up and pounding, her throat burned, her nose was completely stuffed up, and her head felt like it was full of wet cement. Blinking groggily, she realized Joe was not beside her, and a wave of loneliness and self-pity washed over her. She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, feeling her nose begin to drip almost immediately.

“Snff, snff...” she sniffled congestedly, the sound liquid and deep. The tickle in her nose sparked again, and she rubbed it against the end of her sweatshirt, hoping to alleviate the itch. She got out of bed and shivered as a chill ran down her spine. Feeling cold and miserable, she sniffled again, her nose leaking once more.

“Hheh...snfl...” The tickle blossomed intensely at the back of her head, stopping her in her tracks. Standing in front of the bed, her eyes narrowed as her head fell back, and she cupped her hands in anticipation. “Aaah...snfl...ahhit'chhew!!!” She sneezed, her nose running. “Ughhh,” she sighed softly behind her cupped hands, blinking woozily as she sniffled again. The tickle persisted, less intense but building up quickly as fresh trails of discharge dribbled slowly down her lip. She sniffled again and reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, snatching one and wiping it across her glistening nostrils just as they started tingling helplessly.

“Hhut'chshh!! Snfl....Hhehishh!!!” She wiped her nose on the soggy tissue, already reaching for another one as she sniffled miserably. She blew her nose once more and decided to go look for her boyfriend.

She trailed downstairs sleepily. She hadn’t thought to bring any tissues with her, so she just kept wiping her tender nose on the rough, increasingly damp cuff of her sweatshirt, and turning her face into her elbow whenever she sneezed. It wasn’t ideal, but she was just too sleepy to care.

As she neared the kitchen, she felt her breath hitch again, stopping her in her tracks. “Huhh... hehh... hheh’TSHOO!” she sneezed loudly into her elbow. Joe’s back was to her as he was making breakfast. He turned around, smiling sympathetically.

“Hey! Look who’s up!” he greeted her warmly, making his way over to her. He kissed the side of her head. “What are you doing out of bed, love? I was about to bring you breakfast.”

Taylor leaned against Joe, “I woke up all by mbyself,” she croaked miserably.

Joe cooed at her whiny but sweet comment and hugged her more tightly, kissing her cheek. “Aw, good morning, baby. How are you feeling today? Any better?” he mumbled into her neck.

She sniffled stuffily and shook her head. “Mby head is all fuzzy. I feel like I’mb stoned.” She wiped her wet nose on the end of her sweatshirt again.

Joe gave her a sympathetic look and noticed her face contorting as she was about to sneeze. He quickly grabbed some napkins from the counter and handed them to her just in time.

“Huhh... hehh... hheh’TSHOO! Hhehh... heh’CHOO!!”

“God bless you,” Joe said, holding her steady. “You should go back to bed, babe. I’ll bring you some breakfast in a minute.”

Taylor shook her head, her voice a congested murmur. “I don’t wadda be alone right now.”

Joe laughed kindly and kissed her hair a few times, noticing how she was shivering. “I don’t want you to get cold standing in the kitchen. Come on, let’s get you settled on the couch where it’s warm.”

Taylor nodded, her breath catching sharply in her chest. She sniffled and brought the crumpled napkins in her hand back to her face. “Aahh...aahishhhew!! Hhut'chheww!!! Ugh...snfl.” She groaned miserably, nuzzling her cold-stuffed nose through the damp paper and blinking dizzily.

“Come on, my love, let’s get you warm on the couch. Then we can get some medicine into you,” Joe sighed, stroking a few locks of blond hair back behind her ear.

A few feet in front of the couch, Taylor stopped abruptly with a quavering breath. Joe glanced over, seeing a trickle of snot leaking from her flaring nostrils as she brought both hands to her mouth in anticipation, her expression utterly tortured as her eyebrows knit together.

"HuhhESHOOoo!! Sniffle." Taylor’s thin shoulders snapped forward with a violent, sickly sneeze that she barely contained behind her cupped hands.

“Here baby,” Joe said gently, passing Taylor the tissues from the coffee table. “Thadk you,” she grumbled, grudgingly accepting the Kleenex and blowing her cold filled nose thoroughly, too sick and exhausted to be embarrassed anymore about how loud and disgusting it sounded.

As they sat on the couch, Joe wrapped a blanket around Taylor, noticing her shivering again. He pressed his palm gently against her forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

“I think you might have a fever, Tay,” he said, concern evident in his voice. “Let me go get the thermometer.”

While Joe went to find the thermometer, Taylor snuggled deeper into the blanket, sniffling and trying to get comfortable. When he returned holding the thermometer Taylor gave him a playful look.

“You kdow... snffl... I thidk I like id whed you play doctor,” she teased, her voice congested and raspy.

Joe chuckled, sitting back down next to her. “Well, lucky for you, you are my favorite patient.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of her red nose, making her sniffle and wrinkle it.

“I would hope so,” she smiled. Joe leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. She sniffled as they kissed, and when they broke apart, she wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue.

“I dond’t wadt you to get sigck... snnfl,” she murmured.

“I don’t care about that,” Joe replied, his tone soft and reassuring.

“You should,” Taylor insisted, “id’s ndot fud, believe mbe.”

The thermometer beeped, and Joe checked the reading. “Yep, you’ve got a fever,” he said, caressing her cheek. “You must be feeling awful.”

“I’mb finde...” Taylor started to say, but a sneeze interrupted her. “Hehh... hhet'tchshh!! Snfl... hht'chxeww!! ... Cough, cough, cough...” she hastily turned her face into her elbow so as not to sneeze directly into Joe´s lap

Joe chuckled softly. “You surely sound fine,” he teased, handing her more tissues. “Bless you, baby.” He told her, placing a kiss on top of her bangs.

Taylor blew her nose loudly until the wet sound finally cleared a little. Joe rubbed her shoulders comfortingly as she drunk her tea. She sneezed constantly, unable to go five seconds without needing to sniffle, her nose perpetually running. They finally finished breakfast, and Taylor was blinking tiredly.

“You look exhausted babe” Joe told her gently “Why don´t you lie down for a while,” He got up and got another blanket for her.

“Would you lay dowd with mbe?” Taylor looked up at him with tired eyes.

“Of course,” Joe replied. He lay down beside her, stroking her hair. Taylor sniffled and tried not to sneeze on him, but eventually, a congested sneeze escaped.

“Hehh... hhht'shoo! Snfl...ughh.. snffl” she turned her head to the side and pinched her twitching nose lightly between her thumb and forefinger, shivering with the powerful force of one raspy, congested sneeze.

“Bless you,” Joe said, yawning and bringing the tissues closer to her.

“Thadks... sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“It´s okay, sweetheart,” Joe replied, hugging her gently.

Taylor wiped her nose again and, finally, exhausted, fell asleep in Joe’s arms. ------

When she woke up from her nap, she felt a little better. Her fever had gone down, but her voice was still thick with congestion, and she was still sneezing and sniffling constantly. They decided to play some card games, despite Taylor’s frequent need to pause for sneezing fits and nose blows.

They were both competitive, getting really into the game even though Taylor had to stop often. “Sorry, it’s mby turn... hehh... hehh’tshoo! Snfl... just a sec...” she said, blowing her nose before continuing to play.

Joe watched her with a mix of amusement and concern. “That cough is sounding bad,” he said after another fit of coughing interrupted their game. “We should get you more medicine.”

“I’mb okay, baby. Id’s just a cold,” Taylor reassured him, though her voice was hoarse and congested.

“You sound awful, Tay. I don’t want you to get any worse,” Joe insisted.

Taylor smiled weakly. “You don’t need to worry so mbuch,” she said.

“That’s not possible,” Joe replied, his eyes filled with affection. ------

As the evening wore on, Taylor’s cold began to worsen. They continued playing their board game, but Joe noticed Taylor getting increasingly distracted. Her competitive spirit had waned, and she looked puzzled and a little disoriented when he told her it was her turn.

“Hey, Tay, it’s your turn,” Joe said, watching her with concern.

“What?” Taylor sniffled and looked up, startled. “Oh, sorry... snff... I didn’t realize,” she mumbled, her voice thick with congestion.

Joe observed her closely. Her eyes were getting smaller, her cheeks flushed, and she seemed unfocused. He could tell she wasn’t feeling well.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah.. I’mb just tired,” Taylor replied, but Joe wasn’t convinced. She sniffled harshly a couple of times, trying to get some air through her nose. “Snfff... SNFF... snffff... uhh. I’mb so stuffed up… snff.”

Joe reached over and rubbed her back soothingly. “How about I get you some more tea? It might help.”

Taylor nodded weakly, and Joe went to the kitchen. When he returned with a steaming cup, he saw just how flushed and uncomfortable she looked.

“I think you’ve got a fever again, baby,” Joe frowned, moving one hand to Taylor’s forehead and pressing his palm flat against her clammy skin. It felt relieving, easing some of the pressure of her pounding headache, and Taylor sighed inadvertently.

“I dod’t have a fever,” she argued weakly, with another sharp sniffle.

“Yes, you do. And you need a tissue,” Joe said gently, reaching for a tissue as Taylor’s delicate nostrils began to quiver and flare, irritated by the clear, watery snot trickling sluggishly from her nasal passages down the divot in her upper lip.

“I’mb fuhh...fide...sniff!...” Taylor grabbed the tissue clumsily from Joe’s outstretched hand, pressing it firmly to her flaring nostrils as they fought to release the wet tickle lodged inside her head, making her breath hitch and her eyes flutter shut. “Uhhh...huh...uh'tchooo!! ... Snff... ehhISHOOoo!!”

The blonde girl snapped forward sharply at the waist, surrendering to two miserably congested sneezes, the damp tissues clamped over her nose and mouth to shield her boyfriend from the spray.

“Ughh, excuse be,” she sighed softly. She reached for the tissue box for a fresh tissue, finding it almost empty. “Oh, do we habe ady mbore tissues?.. Snff.”

“I’ll go find some more, but you need to take more medicine first,” Joe said, concern etched on his face. He quickly got up to find another box of tissues and a wet cloth for her fever. She protested weakly, saying she was already feeling cold, but Joe’s concern made her cave in. She let him place the cloth on her forehead, immediately shivering from the cold.

“Ughh... Id’s so cold... Snff... Snfff,” she muttered, her nose running. She sneezed congestedly into her soggy tissues. “Hhuh...uhtchOOoo!!! Ishhxiew!! Snfl...ah...snfl...ahhh...aht'chhhew!!!” Each congested sneeze brought a weak shiver.

Joe noticed her over-used tissues and opened the new box, snatching a few and giving them to her. “I’mb so sorry I’mb so gross,” Taylor said, grabbing the tissues and blowing her nose again, the gurgling sound just as wet as before, if not more so.

“Hehh...ISHHuhh!! Hih'HHTchuh!!! Snnfl...ughh, 'scuse be,” she chuckled weakly, unfolding the tissues once and blowing again.

“God bless you, baby! And stop saying that, you are not gross. You are just sick,” Joe told her gently, reaching for the tea cup he had brought a few minutes ago and she had yet to drink. “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Thadk you, love,” Taylor said, taking a sip. The warm tea felt wonderful on her sore throat and shivering body. “This is so good...”

“I’m glad you like it,” Joe said, smiling.

“I’mb sorry I’mb being such a baby... snff,” Taylor wiped her nose on her sweatshirt, feeling a bit embarrassed about being so whiny with Joe, who was being incredibly sweet and patient.

Joe leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You’re allowed to feel bad, Tay. It’s okay.”

Taylor smiled weakly, sniffling again as she leaned into Joe’s comforting embrace. They continued talking about friends, work, and upcoming events, with Joe’s gentle reassurances making her feel a little better despite her worsening cold. ------

“I’mb dot really hungry,”

“How about some homemade soup? Nice and easy on your stomach.” Joe tried again, determined to take care of her.

Taylor looked at him amused and laughed softly. “You’re godda cook for mbe? Real food?”

Joe grinned. “Yes, real food. You just sit tight on the couch, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“There’s ndo way, snfff,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “I wadda see it happendig or else I wod’t believe it.”

Together, they went into the kitchen, where it became clear Joe didn’t know where to start. Taylor, ever the controller, started gathering ingredients. Joe, seeing what she was doing, playfully grabbed her by the waist and forced her to sit down on the kitchen island.

“No, no, no, no,” he laughed, holding her firmly. “You’re not lifting a finger. You are sick, remember?”

She joked, “I dod’t wadt to get food poisodig od top of by cold.”

Joe grinned. “You can help me by just giving instructions, okay?”

“Fide,” Taylor agreed, her voice thick with congestion. And started telling him where he could find everything.

As they started cooking, Taylor sniffled and sneezed every few minutes. “All right,” she said, “first you ndeed to grab the... heh... uhhh... Hhuh...hhtchhxiew!! ...Snff... the cuttihg board.”

Joe followed her directions, occasionally glancing over to make sure she was okay. “Now you habe to be carefull, first put sobe of the.. hehh..” Taylor´s voice trailed off for a moment, eyes narrowing as she raised a hand halfway to her face, looking like she was maybe going to sneeze;

“The what?” Joe asked, oblivious of her girlfriend´s current dilemma

“Th.. theh.. hHehh..” she nodded woozily, too distracted by the unbearable tickly feeling in her head to continue with the recipe. She pressed a finger under her running nose and rubbed hard. “Sniff.. snfff” "Just odehhh...huhh..." Her brows knit together as if she were trying to remember something important “Heeh...hh-Hh Hh-hiiishOOoo!!! Snfl... snff.. excuse mbe”

“God bless you!” Joe says cheerfully, chuckling as he passes her girlfriend some tissues “You good there?” He watches as she blows her nose

“Yeah.. snff.. sorry” She mumbles kind of embarrassed, face behind her tissues.

“Okay.. now, where were we?” He asks as he turns to the pot again to resume his cooking.

Finally, after a while the soup was ready. Joe poured some into a bowl and handed it to Taylor.

“Thank you for being an excellent sous chef,” Joe said with a smile. Taylor laughed softly, “Thadk you, baby” She smiles lovingly at him.

He leaned in to give her a kiss, but felt Taylor's soft, hitching intake of breath against his lips as they kissed. Soon their lips parted, and Taylor gave in to another sick, stuffy sneeze.

“Aah'chshht!! Snfl,” Taylor shivered with the force of the desperate sneeze, tissue pressed firmly to her cold-stuffed nose to protect Joe, who pulled back just enough to avoid getting head-banged.

“Uhhh...snfl...sorry, baby,” Taylor sighed woozily. “I tried to hold id, but I...snfl!...I just coulded't help it.”

“It's okay, T. I like your sneezes.” Joe winked, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Oh mby God, dod’t say that,” Taylor giggled, blushing.

“It’s the truth,” he said charmingly, stealing another kiss from her lips and planting one on the tip of her red nose.

“You wod’t like theb so mbuch whed they stard combig fromb your own nose,” she teased, sniffling softly.

Joe just stood there looking at her with heart eyes and a smile. He couldn’t resist stealing another kiss from her cheek, making a soft “mwah” sound. Charmed by the notion that his boyfriend still thought she was cute when she was half-drowning in snot, Taylor joked weakly,

“I guess you really do love mbe, huh?”

Joe agreed, dropping one final kiss on his girlfriend's warm forehead. “I guess I really do.”

[punch-out-c]

SHE GLASS ON MY JOE TILL I BONJOUR😀

Old art for comparison ‼️🔥

NEW soggy joe art 😼🇫🇷❤️‼️

This little shit is raiding my head I hate him he’s made me get back into punch out the peice of poo😔

(I love him so much)

Hope y’all like my first post‼️💥💃

[sageandred]

You can't get me upset over the Kamala HQ feeds and social media marketing of making jokes about Trump every. chance. they. get. This man called her good friend and soon to be former boss OLD and confused and now he's the one who's embarrassingly decrepit. "The Harris administration is being petty." Good. They should be! He said he looked better than her and still recently mocked her humble beginnings and lower class citizens working the drive-thrus. He started this precedent for how to rally up support. As far as I'm concerned, Kamala earned unlimited access to joking at his expense like this. And I'm mad Joe Biden apologized for calling idiots garbage. That orange cheeto made it so the debate implemented a mute button. She should joke about that stupid old soggy raisin bran.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Not your average summer romance

Chapter One - Here goes nothing

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word count: 2k ish

Warnings: 18+ themes, fluff, kissing.

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

Monday

It was the mother of Mondays as you hurried out of your apartment, your pot of coffee left forgotten on the kitchen counter simply because you were running super late. You were heading to a coffee shop for your meeting with the publisher anyway.

Your last meeting had been promising, so you had your hopes up about this one. The problem was, you were late. And your publisher, Sarah, was particular about time. Praying and hoping she would forgive you just this once, you dodged foot traffic that was perpetual on the streets of New York and stumbled into the equally busy cafe.

No sign of her.

Damn it.

Did she leave?

A part of you was hopeful that she was late too. That thought was shut up rather quickly when your phone buzzed with an email from Sarah.

Hi Y/N,

I hope you’re well. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet today, you know how I am with time.

I should have done this face to face but, unfortunately the team has decided against continuing the contract. I really did try my best but you know the decision isn’t all up to me. You can call me if you want to discuss anything.

I’m really very sorry. Stay in touch and keep writing.

Regards,

Sarah Waddington

A bunch of emotions went through you as you read and re-read the email. There had been rejections in your life in the past, but none of them stung or made you mad as this.

Who does this over an email?

You shoved your phone inside your purse angrily and looked around. You were in severe need of coffee, the only pick-me-up that could work.

Making a beeline for the counter, you pushed past people and stood behind a man wearing a black suit who was furiously whispering over his comms to someone.

Your phone buzzed again. This time it was your best friend calling you, the line was moving rather slow and you needed to vent.

The man in front must have changed his order at least three times adding to your frustration which you didn’t hide. You wondered who the person on the other line was who was unable to decide on a simple coffee order.

As your friend went on about her weekend, you moved ahead to order yourself a large Americano, this day called for nothing else but a strong cup of joe; the man in the suit grabbed his coffees and a bag of muffin and turned the opposite way, straight into you.

Iced coffee spilled down your blouse and some of it on his crisp white shirt, the paper bag turning soggy wet as both of you cursed out loud. Some of your piping hot americano managed to spill down your hand in the process too.

“Are you fucking kidding me??” You yelled, part in fury, part in pain as your hand stung.

Happy Hogan profusely apologized as he tried to grab as many tissues he could to help you. The commotion had gathered enough attention in the cafe already to add to your embarrassment.

“I am really sorry, I have a spare shirt in my car if you’d like. Please ma’am.”

He kept insisting, both of you staring at your blouse that was stained beyond saving point. Uttering a small ‘fine’ you followed him out to a rather sleek Tesla Roadster.

A man sitting at the back rolled the windows down as you two approached, a pair of brown eyes peeking through expensive looking sunglasses taking in your appearance with an amused smirk.

“Boss, would you mind passing me that shirt at the back please?”

The man continued to gaze at you for a few more seconds before paying heed to his, you assumed drivers’ request. You stared back, taking in the man’s sharp suit, a rather well maintained anchor beard and eyes that checked you out shamelessly.

“Tony?”

The other guy said more forcefully this time, breaking up your little staring match. ‘Tony’ fumbled around a bit before throwing a large white t-shirt that said ‘I survived my trip to NYC’ towards the guy you found who was named Happy Hogan as they exchanged a conversation.

“Honestly Happy, I don’t feel so secure around you and by the looks of it, neither does this lady or coffee for that matter. Why did I promote you to head of security again?”

“Because I’m the only one you trust and the only one who unfortunately can put up with your tantrums.”

“What tantrums? And will I get my coffee today?”

Tony huffed, making you hide your grin behind your hand as you accepted the t-shirt from Happy.

“Here. I’ve got all the caffeine I need for the day. Stains and burns included.” You held out your cup for him, frowning when he looked at Happy instead.

“Yeah, I’ll take that. Boss doesn’t like being handed things.” Happy gratefully took the coffee you offered and gave it to Tony.

What an entitled prick! You thought.

“What address should I send this back to?” You held the t-shirt up, Tony waving his hand in dismissal.

“Oh keep it. Mr. Hogan has a closet full of cheesy, oversized graphic tees. You can send the dry cleaning bill over to Stark Industries.”

He added with a small smirk, giving your blouse one more thorough glance.

“Oh no. I have plenty of pristine white blouses that haven’t had coffee spilled over. But thank you for your generosity, Mr. Stark I presume?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“The one and only.”

Happy watched the two of you interact like a tennis match, clearing his throat audibly to break off your staring contest yet again.

“See you around, Miss..?”

“Y/N.” I really hope not, you thought to yourself, giving them a polite smile.

Taking your leave, the two men sped off, leaving you with an amused grin and Tony Stark’s unforgettable gaze that seemed to still linger.

…

That evening the doorbell rang, it was nobody but a large package with a little note.

Another pristine white blouse to add to your collection. Though this is more dinner worthy, I feel. What do you say, Ms. Wordsmith?

Tony Stark

Inside the box sat a satin white top, your size, surprisingly, and a lovely bouquet of beautiful white hydrangeas.

It was an awfully bold yet sweet gesture from someone you encountered for less than ten minutes. By the handwritten note, Tony had researched you in advance, now, it was your turn.

…

Tony’s POV

“I’ll be honest with you Ms. Wordsmith, the thing is, ever since I saw you at the coffee shop, drenched in coffee, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Okay, what? Did those words actually leave my mouth? That wasn’t supposed to be uttered in front of her. Sure, the statements were true, but, whatever happened to the smooth-talker, unapologetic womanizer Tony! He was back at the lab probably judging the shit outta this guy.

The air conditioning was faulty in this place, I think, feeling sweat beads trickle down my back. The fanciest restaurants in New York with the most beguiling lady sitting across and all my mind focuses on is the goddamn AC?

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about you too, Mr. Stark. I think you’re possibly the most spoiled bratty billionaire I’ve met.”

Her words stirred something in me, my cock twitched curiously at them as I smirked, cleverly hiding my shock at the honesty. No woman was ever this frank before, this was new, intriguing.

I could tell she was interested, just by the way all of her focus was on me, her body angled towards mine, her gorgeous eyes taking in every movement, as if memorizing it.

I hadn’t been subtle either, her personality, her curves, her aura were all too inviting for me to back down. Ever since I laid eyes on her, I knew I had to meet her again, keep meeting her for reasons unknown.

Other girls I’d met were pretty much cut from the same cloth, pretty things wearing tight dresses that accentuated their boobs enough to skip dessert and take them home. That usually ended in Pepper kicking them out in the morning before any of them had a chance to say ‘we should do this again sometime’.

Not Y/N though.

I wanted to listen to her, speak to about absolutely nothing, bring her home, explore every bit of that smart mouth, run my hands all over her soft skin, and claim her as mine…

Whoa there! Some boundaries, Stark. It’s only the first date.

“Earth to Tony?”

I snapped back to reality with her hand waving in front of my face, dear God, I wasn’t on my best game tonight.

“Did you say something I missed?”

Damn it. Obviously she had. What a question even?!

“I just wanted to know if you’d like to split a chocolate cake with me?” Her eyebrows raised in wonder as the waitress patiently stood next to the table, waiting for me to give some sort of reply.

Geez. Was this woman for real? I could’ve kissed her senseless right there. I don’t think any of my previous dates had even uttered the word cake before, let alone chocolate.

“Right uh, sure. Yes.” I cleared my throat and croaked, downing the rest of my drink, giving myself a mental shake.

“Are you alright?” She asked, leaning forward, concern filled in her eyes.

“Perfect. I was just preoccupied with something, I’m sorry. Tell me about where you grew up.”

The whiskey provided some liquid courage for me to get up from my seat and join her on her side of the booth. There was plenty of space but I had to make sure our knees touched, I couldn’t sit too far away, not now.

Angling my body toward her, I laid my arm against the backrest as she spoke, willing my eyes not to slip down to her tempting lips or the way her gesturing moved her blouse slightly to reveal her cleavage.

As her lips moved, a part of my brain registered the words while the other hornier part focused on the way her lips formed the perfect O, the way her tongue danced along making me wonder how it would feel wrapped around my length. The sounds that would leave her as I fucked that pretty little mouth, then her, and make her mine.

“Honestly, the whole thing was such a shitshow, I would not mind a sugar daddy at this point!” She laughed, making something flutter inside my chest cavity.

“A sugar daddy huh? How about an eccentric, genius billionaire?”

I smirked, letting my fingers skim the soft skin of her shoulders, pleased at the effect I had on her as she blushed.

Something changed in her eyes as she shifted closer to me, curiosity replaced by something darker, more carnal.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I murmured, looking down at her lips that screamed to be kissed.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re begging me to devour you until you scream my name.”

That very moment, both of us shifted closer until our lips finally met. That very moment, I knew I was in trouble.

The kiss was everything I had imagined and everything I hadn’t. She tasted like a dream, a mix of chocolate and berries mixed with a bit of wine she’d been drinking. I couldn’t get enough.

My lips glided over hers smoothly, tongue peeking out testing the waters at first but as her hands found their way up my chest, I knew she wanted more.

I could’ve been more drunk on her than the whiskey as we kissed, the restaurant had faded away into oblivion long ago.

Her tongue skimmed along my lower lip shyly, making me smirk against her mouth and card my fingers through her hair, pulling her closer.

“Mind if we get out of here?” I breathed, momentarily halting the kissing to look into her eyes.

She nodded, unable to form words as she bit her bottom lip to stifle a grin, her eyes swimming with the same want and desire that was probably reflecting in mine.

“Do your worst, Stark.”

A/N: Here we go! Chapter 1. Feedback is love, as always.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Scar Tissue II

Summary: “Oh, you're standing on business, huh?” You grinned and he laughed, his palm falling down to your feet, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the curve of your ankle and you almost groaned out aloud.

Pairing: Joe x afab!Reader

Word Count: ~4.5k (Idk either, okay?)

Content Warnings: Emotional Constipation, Awkward And Angsty, Two Idiots In Love, Explicit Trauma Flashbacks, Pining And Yearning, Drinking, Fluff, Smut 18+!, A Poorly Closeted Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Unprotected Intercourse, Crying

A/N: Punching the air, sliding down the stairs, inhaling sawdust

Find Chapter I here!

Tagging: @somepallings @queer-crusader @crimsonkingart @ohlookapan

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I′d still have my baby and my babe would have me

- Work Song By Hozier

The repeated scratching of a felt-tip highlighter pen across recycled newspaper pages caught your attention.

“Joe?” The man sitting at the breakfast table right in front of you raised his brows gently as his name slipped from your lips.

“Hm?” He hummed in return, the sound getting slightly muffled by his beard.

“Something interesting in there?” His eyes fell to the paper before darting back to you.

“Listings.” The word came with a certain reluctance as if he had to work it out of his throat.

“Listings?” You repeated, watching his gaze turn apologetic immediately.

You knew that expression, had seen it plenty lately, but still couldn't quite pinpoint its origin. There was nothing to your knowledge that Joe needed to feel sorry for when it came to you. Quite the contrary, actually, you sensed a certain notion of remorse tugging at your insides for the bomb you had yet to drop on him.

“Yeah, it's…it's actually nothing. Forget about it.” He put the pen to the side, briefly idle fingers latching onto the spoon in his cup promptly.

“Okay, weirdo.” The crow's feet in the corners of his eyes crinkled as the idea of a grin ghosted over his face.

“I'm out tonight.” Head-first into the icy water was the best approach, you'd decided.

“Oh.”, Oh? What do you mean - oh?, “Rose and the gang?”

You cringed a little, jaw clenching as you shook your head. Joe would be worried and there was nothing either of you could do about it.

“More like…Stan.” The fuse was lit and now you just waited for the damn thing to detonate.

“Stan? Who's Stan?” You felt your heart hammer against your chest, not in anger or annoyance over Joe maybe caring a bit too much sometimes but more in worry about accidentally hurting him.

“Stan as in my boss Stan. That Stan.” The awkwardness hung so heavy that it felt like trying to breathe in through a mouth full of molasses - lungs clumping together at the attempt to form coherent words.

“Work outing? Sounds nice-” The sudden urge to just throw him through a shut window tugged at your imagination.

“No. A date, Joe. I'm going on a date.” For a moment you wished to never have agreed to it just to spare yourself the way Joe looked at you, the lack of blinking telling you about the myriad of things that would remain unspoken.

“Okay.”, The silver spoon clinked against the cup as he shoved it around with his thumb, “Have fun. Take care.”

From awkward to painful it went within a hitching breath.

“I just- I just want you to know that I'm going to be home a bit later than usual, yeah?” You watched his eyes fall back down onto whatever information it was he had circled so meticulously, this time they didn’t raise back up.

“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it.” He wasn't lying but he wasn't telling you the full truth either, the slight strain in his voice giving him away.

“Of course. See you later then.” Although he didn't see it, you worked your face to smile at him as you got up from the table, leaving a now thoroughly lacklustre bowl of soggy cereals behind.

The second the door fell shut behind you, Joe dropped the newspaper; neon-yellow lines staring back at him as if they were mocking him.

“The fuck am I even thinking?” He mouthed into the now empty kitchen, unsure whether to just tear the damn paper up or not.

Guilt didn't even begin to describe that sensation that constricted his chest at this very moment. He tried to shake it off, to just shove it aside but he couldn’t help himself but to turn his phone to the loudest possible volume - just in case.

“You limp-wristed bastard.” The word rolled over your tongue as you turned the keys in the front door, fingers shaky and trembling from the flood of emotions crushing through you since you hopped off the bus and walked back home at a brutally stern pace.

You didn't notice just how hard you were grinding your jaws onto another until you worked yourself out of your jacket and threw it on the hallway floor. The sound hadn't fully faded as Joe came walking from the living room already, a pair of thick-rimmed reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“You're back early.” The sentence half question and half obvious statement.

“Got…stood up.” Your voice broke halfway through, the words trickling from quivering lips in a pathetic croak.

“Didn't know what I expected.” The immediate self-loathing followed suit.

How dare you think that this could've led somewhere? How dare you assume to move on with those invisible shackles pulling and dragging at your feet no matter where you tried to walk?

“Don't.” Joe had wrapped you in a gentle embrace in a split second, his voice soft and earnest as he practically whisked you away.

“I don't get it.” You sniffled into his chest, from electric excitement to upset misery in a swift handful of hours tearing at an already terribly fragile sense of self-worth.

“Did he call? Did he text?” You shook your head in the confined space you had left.

With the motion, you could hear Joe groan out under his breath, the tone of anger vibrating with it undeniable.

“That's just a shit move. I'm so sorry, pumpkin.” His arms closed down around you tightly, his whole chest eagerly swallowing all the sobs wrecking through your larynx whether you wanted them to or not.

“He's not responding either. I don't know what happened.” It took a bit to calm yourself enough to form a full sentence and you wiped teary cheeks against his fuzzy, loose cut shirt.

“Well, he better tell you tomorrow or I'll make him.” You looked up at Joe, feeling the thin coat of mascara smearing around your lash line.

“I'm joking….unless?” Neither of you could hold back a genuine little grin and if he would've been able to, Joe would've tattooed the image of you flashing a smile through glazed-over eyes into his retina.

“I'll come back to that tomorrow.” As your breaths calmed down back to normal, Joe's embrace around you loosened up, allowing you to pick up your bag and proudly parade the little treasure you'd bought in compensation.

“Do you, perchance, feel inclined to join me drown that shit day in way too pricey tequila that I may or may not have bought on an angry whim?” You raised the heavy bottle up to Joe's line of sight.

“If you'll have me.” Joe ogled the bottle with softly raised brows as he stepped away, making way for the both of you to find more comfort on the sofa than standing in the hallway.

Joe certainly didn't mind you enjoying an occasional drink or even more than that. He knew about its temptations all too well and had been adamant about guiding you onto a path of considerate substance abuse rather than finding you passed out at the bus stop on the night of your 21st birthday. Not that he'd ever really expected this to happen but rather safe than sorry in his opinion.

“Do we have limes in the fridge?” You asked, trying not to be an absolute savage and, at least, pitch the thought of preparing actual shots instead of just putting a bendy straw into the bottle and calling it a day.

“Can you imagine me buying limes?” Joe took to the living room after shrugging his shoulders.

“I take this as a no then.” An attempt had been made.

You wiped your under-eyes with your fingers as you slumped down onto the sofa, watching Joe fetch two glasses and unscrew the bottle. He poured generously and a sense of contentment spread in your chest as you appreciated how you didn't need to play pretend around him. He knew you preferred your glasses properly filled and he acknowledged it; simple.

“So, this Stan just didn't show up, huh?” Joe sat down onto the sofa after handing you your glas, hoisting your stretched out feet onto his thighs as to not disturb your comfort and for a heartbeat you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat - the tender touch of his broad hands around your ankles working up your legs at lightning speed.

You shut down the accompanying thoughts immediately, snuffed any spark of them because no, just no. There were things not to be thought about, especially not with your feet gingerly resting on Joe's lap, not when the slightest touch went through you like an electric current, causing you to clench around nothing without the faintest hints of alcohol having passed your lips.

“Ate them fucking fries myself.” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to shake everything else off as well.

“Fries? Where were you going?!” Joe toasted to you before taking a hefty mouthful - that was certainly something you had adapted straight from him.

“The diner downtown.” Joe had to swallow quickly because his jaw threatened to just drop.

“He wanted to take you out on a date at the diner?!” The alcohol burned down his throat, strangely comforting and spreading the violent warmth all throughout his chest.

“Is that so outlandish?” You arched your brows at him and took a more careful approach to your drink.

“Unfortunately not for him as it seems. The diner. You deserve to be taken out on a real date, my god.” For a moment, you just looked at Joe, forcing yourself not to read into any of it as much as you would've wanted to.

Your eyes dropped from his face to your feet resting on his thighs, and calves exposed by the fabric of your dress that ruffled right below your knees.

“Uh-Huh?” You took a swig from your glass and let the tequila seep into your tongue until it was nearly too intense.

“Yeah. The diner, please. Call me old fashioned but it's not too much to ask if he'd taken the time to get to know you to estimate what movie you'd like to see and take you to the cinema or just throw down a reservation at a proper restaurant at the very least. A walk in the park, a museum…no, it had to be the diner.” Joe making such a fuss about it coaxed a grin out of you.

“Oh, you're standing on business, huh?” You grinned and he laughed, his palm falling down to your feet, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the curve of your ankle and you almost groaned out aloud.

“You should know that by now.” You fought to not just listen but actually comprehend as your mind got flooded with a violent surge of arousal you couldn’t hold at bay.

You'd spent hours looking at those hands, had felt them on you in moments of desperation as they calmed and soothed you, caressed the patches of self-hatred you wore beneath the clothes that made you look like a normal person. Never had they struck you or touched you in a way you didn't agree with, unlike so many others that had.

From the very back of your throat, words threatened to emerge, worked and wriggled their way to the front and tickled the tip of your tongue.

I love you.

You cleared your throat and washed it down with a now equally mouthful of tequila.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” You didn't even wait for an answer before you pulled your feet from his gentle grasp and got up.

“Go ahead.” Joe watched you turn your back on him to make a swift walk for the stereo.

You fumbled with the aux cable and your phone, trying to get your damn act together whilst Spotify was buffering; the small green circle on your screen turning and turning until you could pick a playlist.

The whole date, just you accepting the invitation, had been a farce. Even if Stan had shown up, you would've eaten some fries whilst planning an awkward escape. You'd been excited, yes, but not fully about Stan if you were honest with yourself. You'd been ecstatic about the fact that someone had finally asked you out…only to be ditched, but whatever. It had left a chink in the armour you'd crafted yourself over the years, however, rattled you enough to accept what you knew for a bit now: Technically you were already with the one you wanted to be with.

Technically Joe knew that you loved him, you'd told him on a few occasions and he told you “I love you too, kiddo.” so technically - technically…

Well, practically, you were actively lying to yourself.

You pressed your thumb on the next best icon only to have Hozier blasting through the speakers seconds later. You'd caught Joe humming along to Take Me To Church on the radio once and ever since started eating the man's entire discography whole.

“Crowd pleaser!” Joe acknowledged your pick in music with a nod, cradling his glass whilst looking at you.

Another one of those moments in which you could've just as well fallen to your knees and raise your fist at whatever God's up there for having given you Joe yet not enough of him to still your aching need.

He just sat there and it had you fighting for a coherent thought. He sat there, looking at you with warmth and compassion in eyes that had seen too much, palming a glass of tequila with hands that had done too much and dealt damage beyond articulation - but never towards you.

“Joe?” You reached your hand out, indicating for him to come get up and grab it.

“Would never decline.” He placed the drink on the shallow sofa table, and the reading glasses followed suit.

You never really felt truly nervous around him, there was no need to - usually - but right now something strained you, caused your stomach to twist and turn as you watched him get up from the couch.

Throwing you a soft smile, Joe took your hand and you felt like falling off a rollercoaster, the whole wagon dropping down to plunge into unknown yet thrilling depths with you strapped to it.

“What movie would you take me to?” You asked, swaying slowly with your hands in his.

“I remember you saying that the current cinema program is quote unquote garbage, so I wouldn't.”, Joe responded without missing a beat, making your breath hitch,“I'd take you for a walk in the park, along the river because I know you like ducks. After that, I'd take you out for some pasta you talked about the other night as well.”

“Then why don't you?” Joe raised his brows and tilted his head to the side.

“I mean…sure." We haven't been out in a bit, no?” You considered hammering your fist against his chest to make the point land with him.

“Joe….I- for crying out loud.” The decisions had been made in the blink of an eye and you leaned up to him, your eyes catching a glimpse of brief confusion in Joe's before you fired the one shot you had and pressed your lips to his, the feeling making your stomach free fall.

Time slowed down, calm guitar chords in the background getting stretched until every single note echoed in your ears as you felt his beard brush against your skin. He didn't pull away nor was Joe particularly stunned, his hands dropped yours but only to cup your face in the very same moment, his mouth slowly moving against yours.

“I love you.” The word came almost silent, muffled by the fear of scaring him away but instead, Joe swallowed each of them with a sense of greed you'd never seen on him before.

These weren’t sparks flying, this was an entire forest burning at the strike of a lightning bolt.

Limbs shuffled, you clawed at his shirt to pull him closer as he pushed against you to move you back.

“Joe…”, You mouthed breathlessly as you moved with him, “Say something, please, anything-”

He cut you off.

“I love you so much. I suffocate and choke on it every damn day, you have no idea.”, The sore tone in his voice went right through you and into your head, rendering you weak and wanting, “Whatever you want from me I'll give you, just please, let me love you.”

“Touch me.” You breathlessly pressed between mouths that threatened to just eat away at each other.

Joe already gave you almost everything, the only thing left you could want from him being him; his hands and lips on you, inside of you, wherever really.

The armrest of the sofa strived your leg as Joe gently pushed you past, his hands wandering from your face to brushing along your waist right down to palm at the curve of your ass. There was no hesitation in his movements and you needed it to be like that. You needed him to take the lead right now to not get lost in the nooks and crannies of what ifs, the vacuum of possible uncertainties - Joe shoved at your silhouette and you yielded willingly.

“Since when?” He asked quietly whilst he clasped at the undersides of your thighs, hoisting you up against him to set you back down on the edge of the dining table eventually with ease; all fat and muscle for his body to be a ballistic weapon when it had to.

The pads of your fingertips traced along thick welts of old scars, bullet burns, knife cuts and remnants of a past he hardly spoke about - a violent father, an oppressed mother and a son fighting for his life from the moment he'd been born, the struggle of it painted on his body from his calves up to the curve of his shoulders.

“Since when do you know?” Joe repeated his question, fingers ruffling at the flowy fabric of your dress, bunching it up in his fists as the tip of his nose caressed yours.

“I don't know.”, You managed after catching your breath, “It just happened. Just woke up one day and it felt like the world came crashing down around me.”

It was the truth. There was no way to truly pinpoint the exact moment you'd fallen in love with him, one morning you just knew. You knew and you had kept your mouth shut about it.

Joe almost felt like laughing out about it because he realised how both of you had been sitting in the very same boat without even noticing it, each of you wielding a paddle in the opposite direction for the boat to turn and turn without ever getting anywhere.

“What's so funny about that?” Your teeth latched onto his bottom lip before letting it slip free again, pulling a rumbling groan from his chest that cut right through you.

“It's not…but it kinda is, no?” You listened to the wooden table underneath your ass creaking as Joe leaned his weight against it, one hand fumbling around the waistband of his jeans whilst the other brushed along the inside of your thigh, inching ever closer to the seam of your slip.

The agonising anticipation had you jutting your hips in his direction, your brain already entirely drunk in whatever it was that happened right now, mental walls sufficiently crumbling and involuntarily letting things besides the pleasure slither in.

“Joe…Joe…slow down.” You shoved your face in his chest anew as the expression around your eyes and mouth started to contort into something you had no control over.

Something on the inside stung and bit at you, disgust thrumming through your chest as the faint memory of ghosts from the past came knocking.

“Hey, I gotchu. I'm here.” The brief change in atmosphere clicked with Joe immediately, his curious hands halting promptly as he listened to your chopped-up breathing.

He could only assume what was going on in your head and whatever you decided him to do or not to do anymore was your call to make. Your body started trembling as the memories came flooding.

-Don't be like that…come on now, pretty. It's not going to tickle when I touch you there, I promise-

You bit down at the inside of your cheeks.

-It's fine. It's going to be our little secret, yeah?-

The rotten amalgamation of feelings tore you asunder eventually.

-No, no, no, no , you little slut. You come back here! I paid good money for your cunt, whore.-

Your skin kept crawling, urging you to scratch it all open until the sensation stopped.

“They can't hurt you.”, Joe's calm voice fought to get through to you as he left a wash of little kisses on your forehead, “I'm not going to hurt you. What do you need me to do? How can I help?”

“Talk to me.” The plea got muffled by his shirt, your saliva soaking a dark spot into the fabric whilst your breathing calmed down slowly.

“Okay, sure can do.”, The hand that had been pulling around his belt and zipper raised to tug a few strands of hair behind your ear, “It's Thursday evening. You're at home and you're safe. There's Hozier playing in the background and your kisses taste a bit like tequila because we just had some.”

Joe brushed along your hairline, feeling how you relaxed against him, hands gliding under his shirt to palm at his sides - crisis averted, at least for now.

“I wanna be with you.” It gave Joe a brief moment of whiplash, feeling your fingers trail down to the waistband of his pants, fingertips dipping below the thick material but he didn't stop you.

“So do I.” His breath breezed along your cheek as he took the hint and allowed his hand to inch towards your slip again, the pad of his thumb brushing over it making you moan against his lips as you looked back up at him.

“That okay?” You nodded, your mind slowly winning the slackline walk between the trauma haunting and the pleasure being gifted in the here and now.

“Uh-Huh.” Your hands slowly worked his belt, looping the black leather out of the buckle before pulling at the zipper.

Your heart was thundering inside your ribcage, a part of you still trying to comprehend what was happening, intimate touches being exchanged without something inside of you dying yet again. Instead, it felt good, his thumb stroking over the thin fabric of your damp slip, pressure teasingly increasing whenever he drew little circles over your aching clit.

“I want you.” The words came a bit raspy as you pulled at his pants and tried not to think too much about what you were doing although you knew you did it on your own behalf because you truly wanted it.

The three little words made Joe's thought's short circuit, everything threatened to black out for a split second as he felt himself throbbing against your tenderly wandering fingers.

Surroundings and music started blurring more with every brush of your hands and every caress of his thumb against your oozing cunt, anticipation growing by the second and your train of thought disappearing into comfortable nothingness.

You tugged at his jeans and he shoved your string to the side, a breathy whine rolling over your tongue as he pulled you closer to the edge of the slightly shaking table.

Hands fumbled around with fabric, some of it tearing and ripping a little at the rampant growing impatience taking over both of you. You clawed at him, exposed crotch against his lap, tilting your hips until he could drill himself inside and that he did. The sensation spreading through your lower abdomen gave you a headrush, the stretch unfamiliar yet not uncomfortable and so much better than you fucking yourself on your fingers thinking about Joe.

You pressed your upper body against his chest basking in the feeling of finally being that close to him, breathing him, feeling him all around you and him taking away this ancient paint that had been resting on your shoulder since you had formed your first coherent thought.

Everything came to a comfortable halt as Joe rolled his hips against you, the physical sensation taking over everything else and leaving you dizzy.

“Fuck, daddy…” It just slipped from your lips faster than you could've reached, your cheek against his collarbone, the words acting on their own.

You hoped for Joe to not have heard any of it, however, he certainly did.

Without missing a beat, his hand shot to the nape of your neck, nails grazing against your scalp as he demanded: “Say that again.”

With widened eyes, you looked up at him, lips halfway agape and face flushed with cock-drunk embarrassment.

For a moment, Joe himself couldn't grasp what was going down, his body skipping the stages of Am I Into This? Wait, Why Am I Into This?! entirely, only reacting immediately, feeling himself twitching inside of you at that deliciously fucked up little commentary.

You picked up on his promptly, a relieved grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you leaned in, lips almost touching his earlobe as you repeated yourself.

“I said…fuck, daddy.” Joe grabbed a handful of your hair, firm but not painful, making you look him right in the eyes as he pushed his girth inside of you as far as he could.

“I'm so fucking weak for you, you know that?” He didn't wait for an answer before pressing his lips back to yours, knocking the air from your lungs in the process and causing every last faint restraint to break - palms clasping onto fabric and bare flesh as Joe fucked you on the dining table, the wood rocking with every thrust.

Meanwhile neither of you took any notice from the muted phone next to the stereo going off time and time again, another text another missed call from Stan who left you message after message of being sorry about having missed out on you, offering you to have a talk about it as soon as possible.