#What else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

icallhimjoey · 6 months ago

Note

Hey bestie just wondering if u could do a little comfort one shot of our joey, context:

Starting our period in the middle of work(specifically retail but like a 6hr shift) and coming home grumpy and wanting comfort from Joe?

Pls and thank you🤍

fuck off i can TASTE this request in my bones, what the FUCK - thanks for sending it in babes, love you, mwah 🤍 Wordcount: 1.8K

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What Else?

"Babe!" Joe called when he heard the front door go, and he sounded all chipper.

All happy that you were home. Upbeat, and in a good mood. Dripping with joy. Excited to see you, and enthusiastic, and all eager and... no. That was wrong. That was all wrong.

You were none of those things and didn't have any patience for any of those things.

You silently debated ignoring him and slipping into the shower to melt yourself down the drain. Joe hadn't done anything wrong, but it just so happened that the universe had. It wasn't Joe's fault that he was part of that, but he was, and so, one plus one equalled no patience for Joe.

"Babe?" Joe sounded a bit more unsure when you didn't answer him.

"No." you just replied, your voice as flat as you could manage it still.

Joe was going to have to leave you alone for a bit. Not get too close or look you in the eye. You know, for his own safety.

But then you heard rushed footsteps.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Joe stepped into the hallway and the boy looked like he'd just had the most leisurely day ever, which was wrong.

Wrong thing to look like.

You very much hadn't had a leisurely day, so no one else was allowed to have had one, either.

You were tired, and in a mood, and all your face wanted to do was frown, and if Joe knew what was good for him he'd wipe that stupid smile right off of his face as he closed in on you and curled his arms around your head to hug your face.

He pressed his cheek to yours, and you allowed it.

Just for a second, though.

The kiss he then pressed to your cheek was too much.

Wrong.

"I've got balled up toilet paper in my underwear." you made it sound like a warning. Like Joe was on thin ice, somehow.

"Oh..." Joe said in casual surprise before trying to get another wet kiss in that you leant away from as you frowned deeper and pushed him back.

He hadn't picked up on the cautionary advice you actually never shared.

Wrong.

"Don't touch me."

"Okay, sorry!" Joe comically stepped back and held both his hands up. "Can I touch you when your underwear no longer contains balled up toilet paper?"

You pushed him aside as you made your way to the bathroom.

"No."

Yes, he could. He better. If Joe wasn't going to be nice to you, you'd be even less fun to be around.

"No?" Joe double-checked.

Yes.

"No." You double-downed.

You disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, and you heard Joe chuckle.

Chuckle.

"Fuck you."

Joe was a bad boyfriend and you could fucking cry.

"Okay." Joe lightly scolded, having obviously heard the soft swearing from inside the bathroom, humour still evident in his voice from behind the door. "Take a second and come find me after."

You had to take a moment to breathe, eyes closed, nostrils flared. If you didn't, you'd lash out and say something you didn't mean. You meant the fuck you. Joe was an adult and could read the room and be gentle instead of laugh at you.

You heard him leave the hallway before you sighed deeply, turned on the shower, and let your brain go silent to the white noise of the water stream.

You washed your hair in the first minute, then sat down and decided you could just stay there for the evening. With your back against the tiles, you hugged your knees tightly, chin atop. Blanketed by the warm water and hidden away from everything else.

Perfect.

After about twenty minutes of sitting in the shower, you heard the door unlock and open.

Joe placed the butterknife he used to break in next to the sink and reached into the shower to turn it off.

"Come on, baby,"

Joe had to squat to help you up.

"Time to dry off."

You wordlessly let yourself be helped onto your feet, and then groaned slightly when Joe held up a big fluffy towel that you stepped into. He hugged you over it as you let yourself sink into him. Joe made sure to hug and squeeze you all over, shifting his arms up and down your body, and it was arguably the best way to get dry after a shower.

"My feet are sore," you complained, eyes wet. "I never want to work again."

"My poor baby," Joe cooed sincerely. "What else?"

"I've got a headache."

"You do?" Joe moved the towel to softly dab your face, careful gentle touches near your eyes, dabbing away shower water as well as the beginnnigs of tears.

"And I want to pull my uterus out of my stomach."

"That sounds messy." Joe kneeled as he dried your legs.

It was so devastating to be upset over a discomfort that you just had to accept, because you were born like this. It was unfair.

"I think I might've bruised my vagina with the toilet paper."

"Hmm," Joe looked, and it seemed fine, but what did he know? He had never had to fold up single ply toiletpaper enough times for it to resemble a pad.

"What else?" Joe's voice was smooth like velvet, no making fun. Just comfort.

"I want to commit a murder."

Joe dried the tops of your feet as you wiped at your face, hot tears of frustration now passing your lashline.

"People are the w-worst and they all need to die."

Joe leant back on his heels and looked up at you, brow creased in what appeared to be genuine sympathy. You thought he may say something reasonable, like, not all people, or whatever. But he didn't. Instead he just cocked his head to the side a little and asked,

"What else?"

That made you sob.

"I want..." you started, breath stuttering. "I want– I'm leaking." You felt the trickle of period blood and Joe was quick to swoop in, getting it before you could even look down to see the damage.

"What else, baby? What do you want?" he distracted.

"I want... chocolate. Sugar."

Joe dried you off completely, cleaned and wiped what needed cleaning and wiping and then found a tampon where you kept them.

"I want it to rain, and I want it to be autumn."

You were crying and being unreasonable and it felt great whilst simultaneously feeling the worst.

"Who designed the female bod-dy? Who th-thought of the concept of it? They got it wrong. It's all wrong."

Joe moved like he was going to help insert the tampon, a move that would've made you laugh had you been in a better mood. Now, it just made you take the cotton from his hands as you listed off more things that were wrong with the world.

"My stomach hurts, a-and I'm mad at the government."

Joe just listened. Helped you dress into soft comfortable clothes. Encouraged you to get all of your complaints out. It'd leave the world feeling lighter, he knew. He'd dealt with you on days like these before.

Was nothing new.

He couldn't right any of the wrongs, but he could be sweet and love you with a bit more care than usual.

When you eventually ended up on the sofa together, you were ready to lay down right on top, but Joe stopped you just before you did.

"Can't rub your feet like that. You said you had sore feet, right?"

The way that made your lip wobble made Joe easily accept you in his arms, the way you wanted to lay with him in the first place. He'd get your feet later.

Joe made space between his legs to accommodate you.

With his back comfortably pushed into the sofa cushions and you rubbing your face into the fabric of his T-shirt that covered his chest, Joe decided to ask just one more time.

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping a leg around one of yours. "What else?"

You took a moment to think, but came up blank.

There was nothing else left. You were still annoyed, and tired, and dealing with a dull pain in your lower stomach, but you'd mentioned all of those things already.

There was something you hadn't yet said though.

"M'sorry," you murmured, meaning it with your full chest, but voice only coming out small.

Joe smiled, and he could've made a small joke. Poked fun, just a little.

He didn't.

"I'm sorry I was mean."

Joe just kissed the top of your head

"Can you..." you began, moving a hand up to swipe your wet hair aside.

"Yea of course," Joe's hand found the hem of your T-shirt to pull up, revealing your bare back. You didn't need to finish the question for Joe to know what you were asking for as his finger tips started slowly trailing up and down your back.

Joe felt how you sunk into him more. Felt how your breath was just a strange inhale away from letting emotions seep through the cracks once more. How you burrowed into him even more than he thought was really even possible.

This was all you'd really needed since the moment you'd walked in.

And he'd tried.

He'd called for you.

Knew you'd had a long shift that day.

But you hadn't been ready then.

You'd needed to get a bunch of things out of your system first.

Joe knew.

Knew you.

Joe's tickling fingers felt like heaven, tracing up and down your back inside of your shirt. It was strange how you felt both heavy and light, limbs like lead, but your mind sort of floaty.

You sighed into him as you felt Joe's other leg close in on you, caging you in.

"I really am sorry. When I said no, before, when you asked if you could touch me, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean no."

"Hmm," Joe hummed, and swallowed everything he could say about how he knew you hadn't meant no. How he knew you. There was a reason why he knew how to easily break into the bathroom.

"That's okay. I get to touch you now, don't I?"

You smiled, embarrassed because of your own earlier childish lies.

Joe was a good boyfriend.

"I get to touch you, and hug you, and feel you, and," Joe strained his neck to press a kiss against your hairline. "And kiss you..."

You melted under his affection, and decided you had an important question to ask him as well.

"Yea?" you planted you chin on his chest and looked at your boyfriend, double chins and all, as he looked down at you, gaze warm and dripping with sweet honeyed love for you.

You tried returning it as best you could.

"What else?"

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