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[10-epic-loser-01]

would it be okay with you to do a fanfic where Joe is our teacher/professor??

Office Hours

Just a little drabble :))

You weren’t even planning to take that class.

But your advisor made a scheduling error, and somehow you ended up in Professor Goldberg’s Literature & Society seminar. Room 204. Monday/Wednesday 9:30 a.m.

You thought it would be boring.

You were so wrong.

He’s young. Mid-thirties, maybe. Too hot to be someone allowed to give grades. He talks with his hands, wears button-downs rolled at the forearm, and reads aloud like he wants the whole room to fall in love with language again. Or maybe just with him.

You catch him looking at you. A lot.

Maybe it’s nothing.

Or maybe it’s the way your essays get longer comments than anyone else’s. The way he always calls on you. The way he leans forward when you speak, like you’re the only one in the room who matters.

“You always have such… thoughtful insights,” he says once, voice low.

“You see things others don’t.”

One day, you stay after class to ask a question.

He closes the door behind you.

“If this is about your paper,” he says, stepping closer, “you didn’t need to stay after. You’re doing just fine.”

His eyes drop to your lips. Just for a second.

“More than fine.”

[10-epic-loser-01]

hello!!!!!!!! would you do joe that learns a little too late that the reader age regresses when super stressed? (not sexual, just comfort) thank you lovely xoxox

Didn’t Know You Needed Me

———

Joe doesn’t notice at first.

He thinks you’re just tired. Quiet. Maybe mad at him.

You’re curled up on the couch with your knees tucked under your chin, hugging a stuffie he’s never seen before. You’re wearing one of his old sweatshirts — sleeves swallowing your hands — and watching a cartoon with wide, glassy eyes.

He says your name.

You don’t respond.

“Hey…”

“Are you okay?”

Still nothing. Just a tiny shake of your head.

Joe kneels beside you, heart crawling into his throat. You’re not just being quiet. You look… small. Shaky. He gently brushes your hair back and sees it: the faint tear tracks. The way your lip’s wobbling.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You don’t know how to say it. You just sniffle and whisper:

“Too much.”

And then—barely above a breath—

“I’m little.”

Joe stills.

It takes him a second. Not because he’s upset. Just because he didn’t know. You never told him. You were scared he’d think it was weird or childish. But all he does is let out a slow, careful breath, like he’s trying not to scare you.

Then he says the gentlest thing he’s ever said:

“Okay, baby. Thank you for telling me.”

“What do you need right now?”

You blink at him, surprised. You weren’t expecting understanding. And definitely not the way his voice softens even more. He’s not confused. He’s concerned.

He grabs a blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, tucking the stuffie in with you. He doesn’t leave. Just sits on the floor next to you while you watch your show, rubbing your back in slow circles.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “No one’s gonna hurt you, okay? Not while I’m here.”

Later, he brings you a juice box and asks if you want him to read to you.

He chooses a book with pictures.

He doesn’t even hesitate.

When you finally crawl into his lap and fall asleep, he holds you like you’re made of glass.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner,” he whispers into your hair.

“But now that I do? I’ll always take care of you. No matter how little you feel.”

And he means it.

With Joe, you’re safe.

Little or big. Always.

[10-epic-loser-01]

Can you write a joe goldberg x reader where they are out at a bar and the reader gets a lil too tipsy and flirty with another guy and joe gets all jealous and it ends with them dry humping and making out against a wall outside the bar??? I love your stuff ohmigod

omg yes absolutely! and thank you so much, you're so sweet <33

Jealousy, Jealousy (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Warnings: SMUT, Joe has jealousy issues lol, reader is a little tipsy but they're still sober enough to consent, dry humping, heavy making out (against a wall), slight exhibitionism, hickeys/biting/marking, brief degrading/Joe has a slight humiliation kink here, gender neutral reader so genitalia and the like aren't specified

Five minutes. Five minutes, that's all he'd been gone for, just to come back to see you hanging off the arm of some other man.

Seriously?

Joe scoffed as he glared at you from the corner, watching you place your hand on the mystery guy's chest and whisper something that he could only assume was needlessly provocative into said guy's ear.

That should be him that you were hanging off, him you were whispering in the ear of.

Scowling, he quickly made his way over, not even bothering to apologize to the few people he managed to bump into. "Hey," he greeted in a tense and strained voice, looking like he was about to crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

At first he thought that maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you were too drunk to realize that guy wasn't him, maybe you hadn't even noticed that he'd left, maybe you'd just so happened to cling onto the nearest tall, attractive person with dark hair under the assumption that he was your boyfriend.

Until you glanced over, and he saw the cheeky glint of mischief in your eyes and the shit-eating grin on your face. "Oh, baby, hey," you drawled out slow and lazily, your speech a little slurred from the alcohol that was currently pumping through your system. "Where have you been? I was looking all over for you. I was so worried."

If he'd been a cartoon, his face would've been bright red with anger and steam would've been seen coming out of his ears. "Don't 'hey, baby' me," he snapped while grabbing your arm, not hard enough to hurt you but certainly firm enough to where you couldn't wiggle away from him. "We're leaving, now."

"Aw, but I just made a new friend," you replied with a pronounced pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes in hopes of winning him over.

But he was having none of it, refusing to even acknowledge the guy as he furiously dragged you away (the guy in question was fortunately smart enough to leave well alone and let you go without protest).

"I'm never taking you out again, do you hear me? Never again," he practically scolded, his long legs moving almost too fast for you to keep up with.

"But baby-" you loudly began your complaint before he grabbed you by the collar. You felt the breath get knocked out of you as he roughly pushed you up against the wall of a nearby alleyway outside the bar.

"Enough," he snapped harshly, his eyes full of pure envy as he glared at you. The sexual frustration he was fighting with was so strong you could practically feel it pressing against you. Or maybe that was just his hard-on in his jeans. "What have I told you about flirting with other guys, huh? What did I say?"

Huffing, you averted your gaze from him, well aware of the answer he was looking for. "Not to," you grumbled with a childish pout, not enjoying the way he was currently reprimanding you. "But it's not my fault you left me all alone in there."

"I had to use the bathroom," he hissed out through gritted teeth, his patience starting to run thin. "That doesn't give you the excuse to go cozy up to some other guy like I don't even exist."

"Aw, baby, you know I didn't mean to," you purred out in that sultry tone you always knew worked on him, one of your hands slipping down to fiddle with the hem of his pants as you spoke. "I just missed you, y'know? I was lonely and needed something to help me pass the time. I'd never actually cheat on you with someone else, you know that."

As much as he hated to admit it, the charm you were trying to win him over with was working. "Come on, don't try to seduce me when I'm mad," he muttered half-heartedly as your fingers slipped through the belt loops of his pants and used them to tug him in closer, his hips pressing flush against yours.

The corners of your lips curled upwards into a smug smirk when you realized your plan was working. "I missed you so much while you were gone," you continued in a pathetic sounding tone, your hands letting go of his pants so you could wrap your arms around his neck instead.

The growl he let out sounded heavenly, like music to your ears. He trapped you up against the wall of the alleyway while his hands moved to grab onto your hips. "Don't tease me," he warned in a low voice, but you simply snickered in response.

"Make me," you whispered back, and that was all it took for the floodgates to open up and all of his self-control to crumble as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace of teeth and tongue.

"You can be such a brat sometimes," he mumbled into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip after. He could tell just from the look on your face how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Only with you." Those three little words caused his grip on you to tighten as he jolted his hips into yours, relishing at the sudden feeling of friction between you.

There was no possible way for his cock to get any harder, but somehow it did. "Say- say that again," he demanded in a soft and breathy voice as he leaned his forehead against yours. "Say that you're only like this with me, that you only do this stuff for me."

You knew exactly what he wanted, of course. He wanted validation, he needed it, even. It was something he was so helplessly desperate for. He needed you to reassure him that there would be no other guys, not now or ever, that he was the only one. And with the pitiful way he was staring at you, how could you ever refuse?

"Only for you, Joe. You know I only have eyes for you, babe," you murmured before grabbing the collar of his coat and tugging his lips back to yours in another passionate kiss, one that was even more intense than the last.

He couldn't help but start to grind against you, acting like a dog in heat with the way he was dry humping you right up against the wall of some random alleyway where anyone could look down and see you. At that point, he didn't care who saw. He just knew that he needed you, and he intended on having you, one way or the other.

You, on the other hand, were delighted and even giddy at his eagerness. Normally you'd be a bit more hesitant to have your boyfriend get so handsy with you in a semi-public place, but the alcohol running through your veins gave you just enough of the liquid courage needed in order to successfully banish those fears away and replace them entirely with the overwhelming experience of lust you always had for him whenever he became possessive like that.

The whimpers and pants that exited his mouth uncontrollably were just the cherry on top, the previous look of rage at having another guy touch you being completely overtaken by his primal urge to take you and make you his. You let out a noise that was a cross between a moan and a sigh when you felt his lips meet your neck, biting and sucking at the area in an attempt to mark you, to claim you as his and his alone.

The pace of his hips was unrelenting as he kept you pinned to the wall, the feeling of his boner rubbing against you through the fabric of your pants making you just as crazy as he was. "God, you're such a fucking slut for me, Joe," you commented mindlessly as your fingers curled through his hair, directing his mouth to a lower spot on your neck in the process.

Your words didn't seem to upset him, and if anything only happened to turn him on even more. He buried his face further into your neck while gripping onto your hips so tightly you were certain he'd leave marks behind, his movements in tandem with yours as you'd started to thrust upwards in an attempt to match his speed.

When he finally came, he bit his lip so hard he almost drew blood, trying his best to muffle the humiliating sounds that were doing their best to creep out and escape from him. You finished soon after, your body tensing up and going limp from the amount of energy you had drained from you.

"Second round at home?" You questioned once you were able to catch your breath, to which he merely letting out a short laugh and pulled your body closer to his.

"As long as you promise to never flirt with another guy again," he bargained in turn, just as exhausted as you were even if he was also itching for more.

He was so naive for thinking that would be the one and only time you'd ever purposely flirt with somebody else. With the kind of reaction you'd managed to gain from him, this was only the beginning. It was decided: you'd have to make him jealous more often.

End notes: I love writing smutty joe fics omg

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[10-epic-loser-01]

listen idk what to think of rdj as doctor doom but i DO know the irondad & spider-son ao3 tag is about to get CRAZY

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Peter wanting to save the villains in NWH and now Tony is probably a variant of the most evil guy ever. I just KNOW he's gonna try to save him even if it is a variant

[10-epic-loser-01]

I Need Some Sleep

Also on AO3! TRIGGER WARNINGS - past character death, grief/mourning, and suicidal thoughts. DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

“Boss, I’m detecting activity in the Spider-Man suit.”

Tony stops whatever he’s doing to focus on the screen, which gives off a small Spider-Man sign. The man checks the time – it’s three in the morning.

“What the hell is he up to,” Tony mutters under his breath, intrigued. “Any injuries, FRI?”

“None detected.”

That’s good, he supposes. He just hopes the kid isn’t goofing off with the suit on a school night. But something tells Tony that is probably not the case. When he opens the Baby Monitor, nothing is going on, apparently. He just sees… New York City up from a building. Besides two bouncing, uneasy legs going back and forth. Everything is quiet.

“You’ve been very quiet, Peter,” Karen points out. “Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?”

“It’s okay. I don’t wanna bother him.”

Tony’s annoyed frown immediately disappears once hearing the utter defeat in the kid’s voice.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be bothering him if you wanted to talk,” Karen reassures him.

Peter sighs. “Can I just… talk to you instead?”

“Of course, Peter. What’s on your mind?”

The teen is quiet again. In the meantime, Tony sees how Peter’s patrol has gone today. According to the Baby Monitor, nothing went wrong. Same counts for the previous patrols. However, it seems that Peter hasn’t been sleeping adequately.

“I know you… probably don’t think about it, but…” Peter hesitates. “Do you ever think about dying?”

Tony freezes, attention back to the live screen.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Karen replies, unsure as far as A.Is are concerned. “Do you?”

Peter might lean in a bit to look down. It’s… quite high from up there.

“Sometimes.”

Perhaps reading Tony’s mind, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is preparing the Iron Man suit, but he doesn’t act for now. He wants to hear more from Peter. He wants to understand so he can help.

“Y’know, Karen,” the boy speaks up again, “I think my aunt hates me.”

“Why?”

“I’m the reason my uncle is gone.”

Tony tenses. He has never heard Peter talk more openly about his deceased uncle. He never brings that up with Tony, even if his guilt is always there.

“I was such a brat to him, and then I couldn’t even say sorry. I was too late,” Peter reveals, bitter. “So imagine how it must be for Aunt May to look at me every single day and be reminded that this stupid kid killed her husband.”

“Peter, you didn’t kill him.”

The boy’s heartbeats quicken in rage.

“... why didn’t that guy shoot me, then?”

Karen doesn’t reply.

Peter boils.

“WHY DIDN’T HE SHOOT ME?!”

He growls and sobs at the same time. Like he doesn’t want to cry and the fact there are tears coming out is angering him. As if he doesn’t deserve to cry.

Tony doesn’t realize he’s also crying until he sees a teardrop on his desk.

He’s never heard Peter this furious before. Least of all towards himself.

Goodness, he’s just a kid.

Before that rage can take over Peter – because Tony certainly knows what this kind of rage does if left unchecked –, the billionaire takes a deep breath, and says, “FRI, call the kid, will ya?” He dries his own face as well.

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen notifies.

“Wait, Karen, no, DON’T–”

Peter can’t stop the call even if he tries.

“Kid?” Tony says.

“Um. Hi. H-Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter uncovers half of his face to dry his tears. He can’t hide his vulnerability.

“Hi. What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sure. Totally…”

“Couldn’t sleep or something?”

Peter sniffs. “Uh… how come you’re not mad at me using the suit at this hour?”

“I thought I’d check on you. You don’t look so good, kiddo.”

“Wait…” the kid frowns. “Did you… hear what I said to Karen just now?”

Tony can’t really hide his heartbroken expression, so Peter immediately groans.

“Oh, right, how could I forget about the Baby Monitor,” he hisses to himself.

“Kid, it’s fine, I’m not angry. You just wanted to talk to someone, right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to hear all that.”

“I know it’s hard, bud. But how long have you been bottling it up?”

Peter inhales angrily and doesn’t respond.

“Is your aunt home?” Tony asks instead.

“No. Night shift.”

Tony hums. “And what’ve you been up to?”

“Nothing.”

They grow silent. Neither hang up.

“... I kinda had a bad dream,” Peter admits.

“Yeah?”

“It was a mess, I can’t really explain it… but I remember seeing my uncle. I haven’t dreamed about him in a while. Things were fine, until they weren’t. He was bleeding in my arms again and he said, ‘why didn’t you say sorry? Why didn’t you say you loved me? Did I make you this miserable?’. And he was gone again.”

Tony listens.

“I hate that… that it can’t just be a nightmare,” Peter vents. “I hate waking up and not running to him and hugging him like I used to. And I hate that he won’t wake me in the morning with a kiss on my forehead and call me for breakfast. Why can’t he be here with me? Things would be so much… easier. But they won’t be ever again. I’m never going to see him again. My aunt won’t see him again. And it’s all my fault.”

The way Peter hugs his own knees…

It’s clear he doesn’t want to be alone.

“Hey, kid,” Tony calls, “do you want me to come over there?”

“What? Why?”

“You need someone right now, kiddo. And I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

“B-But aren’t you busy?”

“I could never be too busy for you.”

There’s a dim but hopeful light in Peter’s eyes. Yet it seems to fade almost instantly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but it might sound like, “I don’t want to hurt you, too.”

Tony smiles for him. “Of course.”

Peter looks at him like a lost puppy.

“Just give me… fifteen minutes and I’ll be there,” Tony tells him. “Okay?”

“Yeah… okay.”

When Tony summons his suit…

“Actually,” Peter clears his throat, “could we go eat somewhere? Like the Waffle House or something?” He sighs. “Sorry, that was dumb.”

“No, no, not dumb at all. You hungry?”

“A little, yeah.”

“I could use a bite, too.”

“Oh, okay, great.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. You wanna keep talking to me?”

Peter contemplates. “Actually, I think I’ll be fine, Mr. Stark.”

“You sure?” Tony asks concernedly.

“Yeah. I know you’ll come,” Peter smiles for the first time in this exchange.

He really trusts Tony with his life…

“Alright. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call me again, okay?” Tony insists.

Peter nods, certain. “Okay.”

Tony wants to cry.

“I’ll see you soon, Peter.”

“Okay, see ya, Mr. Stark.”

“Bye.”

The call ends.

Tony sighs deeply.

When he gets to that building, Peter is looking up, readily expecting him to arrive. Tony takes him to the Waffle House, and no one bats an eye at Iron Man and Spider-Man just hanging out there at nearly 4 AM.

Peter isn’t very talkative today, so Tony does most of the talking for him, not that he minds it.

He doesn’t see Peter’s face here since he has to keep his identity secret, but Peter does look a little better now.

Tony already lets May know he’s with Peter, and he takes the boy home. They arrange it so Peter won’t need to go to school tomorrow.

And most importantly, Tony makes sure Peter doesn’t wake up to the empty apartment tonight.

He glances at the old pictures while Peter takes a shower. Tony might sit on Peter’s bed. There’s actually an Iron Man poster on the wall that he never saw before. Peter probably hides that kind of stuff from Tony.

In fact, the red-faced teen immediately removes the poster when he gets back. That gets a laugh out of Tony.

After that, Peter lies in bed, looking wide awake despite his exhausted eyes.

Tony joins in. Peter looks surprised but he doesn’t protest.

They stare at the ceiling. Peter will glance at Tony every now and then.

“... How about a story?” Tony suggests, seeing the insomnia taking control over them.

“Like what? I have no idea what books are lying around…”

“No, no, I’ll tell you my stories. They’re obviously more interesting.”

Peter scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“Oh, is that a challenge? What if I told you the Avengers’ biggest secrets?”

“Really?!” Peter suddenly fanboys.

Tony snickers, knowing that would catch his attention. Peter looks like a little boy.

The man tells him all kinds of stories, mostly how awful they were as roommates.

Peter is already asleep when Tony starts reminiscing about the Avengers’ departure, and the fact he hasn’t seen any of them in forever.

And how empty the Compound can be when Tony wakes up after a bad dream.

…

Peter’s breaths are there to remind him he’s not alone tonight.

Tony grins, giving him a light forehead kiss so as to not wake him.

“... thanks, kid,” he whispers. “For everything.”

[10-epic-loser-01]

Stark! The Musical - A Tribute to the MCU

Marvel tumblr, could you do your thing? I'm trying to spread the word to Marvel fans and I thought I'd come here. I've been working on this musical for over 4 years and my producer and I plan to pitch it soon! I want to keep the story of the original Avengers alive with this project, particularly Tony Stark and his character arc. This is a love letter to all the Marvel fans of the world <3

Watch the full trailer here: https://youtu.be/BL83K31q730?si=prFZvm9uCdECRbF5

[10-epic-loser-01]

GODDD HELP ME

Peter and Tony reference in the deadpool Wolverine movie

AND THE TOY HELMET I'M. CRYING.

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pt 2 of me making the saddest edits possible 🤸🤸

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Irondad references in Deadpool and Wolverine (2024)

—Their framed photo.

—Peter's Iron Man mask toy.

[10-epic-loser-01]

Hey gossip girl community, sorry I’m late I just got into it but WHERE ARE THE DAN HUMPHREY FICS HELLO???

[10-epic-loser-01]

✧˖° — adventures in babysitting

pairing: joe goldberg x fem! reader

type: imagine (1.6k+ words)

requested: no

summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottie’s breakdown. who would’ve thought she'd spark joe's interest?

warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.

note(s): this takes place during season 3! i’ve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought i’d write some! i haven’t written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!

“if you want to make some calls to any previous parents i’ve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,” you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.

“oh that doesn’t seem necessary, we’ve heard great things.” love grinned as she patted joe’s knee lovingly. “cary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!”

you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. “i did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild one…”

there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.

as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.

you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.

joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. “so… how soon can you start? how’s your schedule?”

you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.

love sighed, “sorry about that, i guess nap time’s over! i’ll go get him and we can introduce you.” she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.

joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. “oh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. i’m available all week really. i’m taking a break from school for a semester.”

joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “huh, what’re you studying?”

“education, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary education”

he licked his lips and you couldn’t help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.

“you enjoy reading?” his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.

“mhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.” you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. “do you read?”

“i do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.”

“really? that must’ve been fun-“

“here he is, say ‘hi’ henry!” love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.

you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.

“henry, say ‘hi,’ bubba!” love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. “do you want to hold him? he’s not very fussy around newer people.”

you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. “sure sure, i’ve got him,” you said confidently.

you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while he’s in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.

you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.

you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. “hey, henry, how’re you doing, buddy? i’m gonna be your new babysitter.” you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.

after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.

joe grunted an “i got ‘im,” before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.

once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didn’t let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.

“it’s okay, forty, it’s okay, momma’s here…” love soothed him, and whispered “sorry!” she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.

joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. “it was really great to meet you you both.”

joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. “it was nice meeting you, miss... i’ll walk you out.” you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft “bye” and you rubbed henry’s back and said bye to him as well.

joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.

he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. you’re both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.

“thank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.

you nodded, “yeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?” you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.

“yes, i can send you a text to make sure it’s the right one?”

before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:

Hello, you.

you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “i’ve got it, thanks.” you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. “sorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?”

joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.

you couldn’t be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. he’s happily married with a kid that you’ll be taking care of. get. it. together!

“how about monday? i’ll be home for a few hours, and i don’t think love would mind if i stay and show you henry’s schedule.”

you nodded eagerly, “absolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!” you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.

joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didn’t take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.

[10-epic-loser-01]

Joe Goldberg x F! Reader Headcannons

A/N: these are all true idc. also sorry for ghosting yall AGAIN as well as this being short asf 😭😭 but i finally have free time to write 🙏🏻

word count- 318

-VOUYERISM. he’s canonically a major vouyerist. he loves watching you, whether that be touching yourself or you doing every day tasks, getting a shower or getting changed. scenarios go through his mind, him fucking you on the counter you’re leaning against. he’s a total perv, no matter how much he tries to convince himself he isn’t.

-CNC KINK. HEAR ME OUT. he plans every scenario as much as weeks in advance, making sure every little detail is thought out, making sure you enjoy every aspect. the ‘breaking into your house’ scenario being his favorite, reminding him of when he stalked you before you two ‘bumped into’ each other.

-SCENT KINK. he’s a canon panty sniffer. he jerks off with your underwear on this face, trying to take in your scent as much as he can. wishing it was your cunt on his face. god, how desperate and needy he gets. he’s so addicted to your scent, needing you all of the time. his vivid imagination doesn’t do anything after a while, it’s not enough.

-PRAISE KINK. joe loves praising you, worshipping you. you’re perfect, flawless in his eyes. so why wouldn’t he enjoy telling you how good of a job you’re doing? you’re his perfect pet, and he’ll remind you of it every chance he gets.

-MARKING/OWNERSHIP. he owns you and wants everyone to know. and what other way than covering your body in hickies and marks? he loves showing you off, his possession over you. he would do anything for you, he’s more than proud of your relationship.

-BREEDING KINK. he imagines the perfect white picket fence life; marriage, a house, a few kids. it’s another way to make you committed to your relationship, bound to him. fantasizing over and over about getting you pregnant, filling you with his cum, marking you from the inside. your belly swelling up, breasts swelling and becoming tender with milk.

[10-epic-loser-01]

its so scary to put yourself out there but a SINGLE message saying "hi i loved what you made it touched me in some way" makes it all worth it 10000%

[10-epic-loser-01]

THE BOY IS MINE (2024) Ariana Grande, dir. Christian Breslauer

[10-epic-loser-01]

my pookie, mr. 8 seconds :) <3

[10-epic-loser-01]

Hellooo I LOVE your writing and was wondering if you could do another part of 'Papier' the story with Joe Goldberg 🥹 Thank you and Have a wonderful day!

Of course!

I’ve since finished the new season entirely and found it just fine. I heard quite a few unfavourable things before going into it, but I actually didn’t feel pulled in that same direction… it wasn’t that bad.

Warnings: power imbalance, Joe being a creep.

My eyes skim the pages, all different, all beginnings, unused introductions that didn't quite make the cut. You're good at this, at writing and adding... but you never quite rid yourself of the past. You tuck it away for later; perhaps a better thought will emerge from stirring the mind with old prose or, maybe, you have a fear of losing things.

I glance over the paper and look at you, sitting on the chaise in front of my desk, in my office, legs crossed and hands resting atop your knee. Your bag is by your feet. I smile and lower the draft.

"These are good," I say. "but you've given me better."

You nearly deflate at my words, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes burn holes into the back of your paper. It's not what you had handed in for your midterm, but it is an older copy for us to look through.

I blink, tucking in my top lip for a moment as I think.

"What's up?" I ask.

Your eyes flick up to mine.

“What?”

I move back and sit on my desk, discarding the papers by my side to give you my full attention.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” I point out.

“I just…” You pinch your lips momentarily, timidly moving your eyes somewhere along my desk. “I feel like I’m moving backwards.”

“Would you like to unpack this feeling?”

“I don’t see how it’ll make a difference.”

At that, I smile.

“Sometimes talking things through can help. What are you worried about?”

You look away for a moment, pensive. You’re thinking of what to say, or perhaps you’re searching for a way to say it.

“Failure.” You admit plainly.

“Do you think you’re failing?” I then ask, and you shift in your seat.

“Yes, and I want to do something about it. Anything.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

After a moment’s silence, I push myself off my desk and take a step to you. Your eyes look up into mine as I approach.

Once your chin lifts, and I’m intimately close to your sitting form, I speak the question I had been dying to ask since your ass sat down in my office.

“Would you like me to give you some options?”

You gulp, the action drawing my eyes for a split moment. I grind my teeth, wondering loosely if this had been how Beck’s professors felt about her.

“What are my options?” You whisp, unsure of what you’re truly asking from me.

My hand rises, and I pretend to catch lint off your shoulder. I flick it away with a broadening smile. My fingers follow the knit of your sweater, then, languidly stroking my way down to your collarbone.

“When I’m not holding a class, I’m frequently in my office. The first option is simple: we meet here, five days a week.”

Your eyes swirl with fear. “I can’t do that, I’m full-time. I don’t have availabilities every day.”

“If the frequency of our sessions is going to be a problem, the other option will have to include longer sessions.”

Watching your face contort uncomfortably as you think over your dilemma has me giddy with excitement.

“Are you alright with studying late?” I ask.

You shift in your seat. No. You’re not okay with it. What will become of the little social life you’ve managed to maintain? The small amount of me-time you’re going to lose?

You nod and my hand finds your shoulder again, giving you a reassuring squeeze as you tense below my fingers.

“I can do nights, but my office can’t stay open past a certain time. I hope you understand that. I’ll gladly accept you into my home, if you’re willing to try. Two nights a week, maybe? How does that sound?”

“What nights?” You ask.

“Tuesday and Thursday.” I respond, watching you closely.

“I can do that.” Your voice is small as you speak, you’ve shrunk. Defeated. You don’t want to accept my terms, but you know you have to.

I pull my hand away, turn, and scratch at my beard with a pleasant hum. My hands ache with the need to touch you, to touch myself, but I reach for pen and paper instead, scribbling down my address.