what those fingers do
AnasAbdin

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@djolover2929
what those fingers do
this picture has me absolutely fucking feral
BABYS GONNA BE ON BROADWAY
lives were changed.
Addiction
Toxic joe keery fic
The first time Joe Keery kissed you in public, it was purely to ruin your night.
You’d been ignoring him for almost two weeks, which was the longest either of you had gone without speaking since this whole disaster started. Two weeks of unanswered texts. Two weeks of pretending you didn’t notice when his name appeared on your phone at 2:13 a.m. Two weeks of trying to remember who you were before he made your nervous system revolve around him.
And it almost worked.
Until you showed up at some crowded house party in a tiny black dress, laughing too hard at something another guy whispered in your ear.
You didn’t even see Joe at first.
But you felt him.
There was always this awful shift in the air whenever he walked into a room. Like your body recognized him before your brain did. Suddenly your chest tightened. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe correctly. Suddenly every instinct in you started screaming.
Run.
Too bad you never listened.
“Having fun?” he asked from behind you.
You turned around slowly, already angry at how badly your heart reacted to seeing him.
Messy curls shoved under a random Boston cap. Rings on his fingers. That lazy, unreadable expression like he hadn’t spent the past fourteen days destroying your sanity.
“Thought you died,” you said flatly.
His mouth twitched. “You would’ve posted about it if I did.”
The guy next to you awkwardly muttered something and disappeared almost immediately, which only made Joe smile wider.
God, you hated when he looked pleased with himself.
“You ignored me,” he said.
“You survived.”
His jaw flexed.
That was the thing about Joe. Everyone else thought he was easygoing. Funny. Charming in that careless way people trusted instantly. Nobody noticed how badly he needed control. Nobody noticed how mean he got when he felt unwanted.
But you noticed everything.
“I called you,” he said.
“At three in the morning.”
“You were awake.”
You laughed once under your breath because he wasn’t wrong. Most nights you stayed awake staring at your ceiling anyway, half-hoping he’d appear outside your window with bloodshot eyes and another apology he didn’t know how to say properly.
Joe stepped closer.
Too close.
“You look pretty,” he murmured, and your stomach betrayed you immediately.
Because that voice, low and rough and honest when he was tired, was dangerous. It was the version of him that made you forget every horrible thing he’d ever done.
You crossed your arms. “What do you want?”
His eyes flicked toward the crowd around you before landing back on your face.
“You talking to him was annoying me.”
There it was.
Not I missed you.
Not I’m sorry.
Never anything simple.
Just jealousy wrapped in cruelty.
“You don’t get to disappear for weeks and suddenly act possessive.”
Joe looked down at you for a second with this unreadable expression. Tired. Angry. Starving.
Then he smiled again, but it looked painful this time.
“Possessive?” he repeated softly. “That what you think this is?”
Before you could answer, he grabbed your jaw gently and kissed you.
And the worst part?
You kissed him back immediately.
Like muscle memory.
Like addiction.
The room around you blurred into noise. His hand slid against your neck, warm and familiar, and suddenly you remembered every reason you could never leave him completely. Joe kissed like he was trying to consume people. Like affection and violence came from the exact same place inside him.
When he finally pulled away, your breathing was uneven.
“You’re such an asshole,” you whispered.
His thumb brushed your cheek almost tenderly.
“I know.”
And that should’ve been enough. That should’ve been the moment you walked away for good.
Instead he leaned down until his forehead rested against yours and said quietly:
“I had a shitty week.”
There it was.
The real problem.
Not the fights.
Not the mixed signals.
Not even the cruelty.
It was the tiny moments when he let you see the scared version underneath everything else.
Because suddenly he wasn’t the boy who disappeared without explanation or flirted with other girls just to make himself feel less attached to you.
He was just Joe.
Exhausted. Lonely. Looking at you like he wanted something he didn’t know how to ask for.
And every single time he looked at you like that, you forgave him before he even apologized.
Which was exactly why he kept breaking your heart.
A/N: THE CONCEPT OF TOXIC JOE YES PLEASE
Joe Keery had a habit of ruining you just enough to keep you addicted to him.
Everyone thought he was charming; the messy curls, the stupid pretty smile, the way he could make an entire room laugh without trying. But you knew the version of him nobody else did. The version that showed up at your window at 1 a.m. drunk, honesty all over your bedroom floor. The version that kissed you like he was angry about needing anyone at all.
You weren’t together. He made that painfully clear.
But he’d still call when he was lonely. Still drag you into crowded parties with his hand tight around your wrist like he owned you. Still get jealous when other guys looked at you, only to disappear for days afterward like none of it meant anything.
And you hated him for it.
You hated how he’d say cruel things with a smile, how he’d pull you close right after pushing you away, how every argument somehow ended with him touching your face softly enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place.
Being around Joe felt like standing too close to a fire. You knew eventually it would burn, but for a while the warmth made you stupid.
The worst nights were when he got honest. When he’d look at you with tired eyes and admit he was going to hurt you eventually. Like it was inevitable. Like warning you somehow made him innocent.
But you stayed anyway.
Because sometimes he’d kiss you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, and every time he did, you came dangerously close to mistaking destruction for love.
i would give him the most sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, slimy, life changing, death dropping, heaven sent, flabbergasting, hypnotizing, heavenly, astonishing, leg trembling, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, legs stretching out again and again, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing, waist slowly moving up and down, small heavy breath, "I can't take it much longer" breaths getting quicker, twitching throbbing eyes shut lip biting, back arching, edging begging for relief, warm hot rush bubbling up spit upon spit tongue twisting ground tip-talking against month sideways spit from the end and lick from the bottom to the top then spit from the to and lick to the bottom deepthroating mascara dripping down my face, slower then faster faster than little faster then perfect pace twisting mouth around each side, hands in my hair brutally using my mouth, spiritually enlightening chakra balancing, mangekyo sharingan unlocking, golden light like a halo around the top, noise from the very edge of his throat for the final release head ever. And THEN l'd let him pound me so hard into the bed and use my body as though it doesn't belong to anymore that he literally throws me around and does as he please. I wouldn't argue, I wouldn't raise a word, no sir, not to daddy, absolutely not. He could ruin me, corrupt me, hit me, choke me, tie me up, bite me, I would absolutely encourage everything he does as long as I get a smidge of his attention and love. This man could make me fuck myself on his fingers and I wouldn't argue even if I ended up passing out, he could bruise me up and laugh at me and I would take it just to listen to him praise me. I would take him for 50 rounds in 60 positions cause never back down never what???? NEVER GIVE UP and I am not giving up to screw me till my mind becomes nothing but subservient to him.
got a little carried away last night…😅😅
but i definitely am tho
new bts from loser music video
god i love him so much
he’s so beautiful
this music video changed my life
uhm.
henderson!reader x steve harrington
Steve Harrington is halfway through climbing into the window before he realizes this is VERY much not Dustin’s room.
First of all, it smells nice.
Second, there are polka dots and fairy lights everywhere.
Third, Dustin definitely does not own that many records.
Steve freezes with one leg still hanging out the window while you stare at him from your bed like he’s completely lost his mind.
“…You know doors exist, right?” you say slowly.
Steve looks rough.
Like genuinely rough.
His lip’s busted, there’s blood on the sleeve of his jacket, and he’s breathing hard like he ran all the way here. For a second the sarcasm drops off your face immediately.
“What happened?”
“I thought this was Dustin’s room,” he says weakly, which somehow does not answer the question at all.
Then he almost falls trying to step down from the window.
So obviously you help him because despite everything, you’re not evil.
You sit him down on the edge of your bed while he complains dramatically about how much his ribs hurt, and soon you’re cleaning dried blood off his cheek with a wet towel while Steve watches you way too carefully.
The room gets weirdly quiet after that.
Like suddenly you’re very aware of how close you are to him.
How his hand is resting near your thigh.
How he keeps staring at your lips every time you talk.
“You’re staring,” you mumble.
“Sorry,” Steve says immediately.
But he doesn’t actually stop.
And then because apparently Steve Harrington enjoys ruining your life, he reaches up and brushes his thumb lightly against your wrist while quietly saying:
“You’re really pretty, y’know that?”
Your brain basically short-circuits, your heart flutters, and you start to feel a weird tingle you’ve never felt right below your stomach.
You’re leaning closer without even realizing it, Steve’s looking at you like he forgot how breathing works, and for one horrible second it genuinely feels like he’s about to kiss you-
Then Dustin slams the bedroom door open.
He takes one look at Steve sitting on your bed and immediately starts screaming.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SISTER’S ROOM???”
Steve practically falls off the bed trying to stand up while you bury your face in your hands because honestly there’s no recovering from this.
Steve Harrington swears Dustin Henderson’s older sister hates him the first time they meet.
To be fair, he kind of deserves it.
He shows up at the Henderson house bruised, bloody, and dragging Dustin through the front door at two in the morning while trying to explain why there may or may not have been Russians involved. Dustin’s sister just stands there in pajamas staring at Steve like he personally invented bad decisions.
“Oh my god,” she says slowly. “There are two of you now.”
Dustin immediately starts defending him like Steve’s a wounded stray dog.
“Steve saved our lives.”
“Steve crashed your bike into a mailbox last month.”
“That was one time.”
Steve expects her to slam the door in his face after that. Instead she sighs, disappears into the bathroom, and comes back with a first aid kit.
And honestly? That’s where the problem starts.
Because suddenly Steve keeps finding reasons to come over.
At first it’s for Dustin.
Then it’s… less about Dustin.
He starts staying for dinner.
Fixing random things around the house that weren’t even broken.
Making her laugh without meaning to.
And she keeps pretending he annoys her even while secretly waiting for the sound of his car pulling into the driveway.
The worst part is Dustin notices immediately.
One day Steve’s leaning against the kitchen counter flirting badly while she tries not to smile, and Dustin just walks in, looks between them, and goes:
“No. Absolutely not.”
Steve nearly chokes.
She laughs so hard she has to leave the room.
And from that point on Dustin treats their unresolved sexual tension like a personal attack against him.
4 months since dada’s been on my screen.
ugh i miss him.
i wonder if the ghosts in my room ever read joe keery smut along with me
well merry christmas
he’s so boyfriend here
actually sick to my stomach and puh when i remember i will never have him.
I need him so bad it’s not even a joke anymore. The fics aren’t enough anymore