body language pt.2
Joe Keery x reader
Summary: Joe and reader attempt to leave the festival after one kiss turns into several very bad decisions, all sweat-slick skin, tangled limbs, and the growing realisation that neither of them actually wants the night to end.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, strangers to lovers, alcohol, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, fooling around in public (sex in private dw lol), body worship, praise, dirty talk, festival setting, fluff (lmk if i missed anything)
W/C: 4.7k
A/N: @oohlillie @lacywithdrawal @vehementlyelectrifiedknowledge thank you for all the love on body language and for requesting a pt.2 <3 i had genuinely not planned on revisiting these two originally, but you’ve all enabled me terribly. this is one of my favourite, and one of the longest, things i've ever written lol. also yes. this one is filthy. strap in.
Read part 1 of body language here: [body language]
Read more of my writing here: [masterlist]
The problem is that once Joe starts kissing you properly, he becomes significantly less interested in pretending either of you are behaving decently anymore.
Which is unfortunate, because you are still technically standing beside a food truck in public.
His hands slide beneath the hem of your top again almost immediately, warm palms flattening against your waist while your fingers stay tangled loosely in the curls at the nape of his neck.
Joe kisses like somebody getting progressively more distracted. Like every new sound you make against his mouth derails his train of thought entirely.
“You’re trouble,” he mutters again against your lips.
“You said that already.”
“Yeah, well.” Another kiss. Slower this time. “Still true.”
You smile slightly into his mouth, but it disappears quickly when Joe’s hand slips lower against the bare skin above your shorts.
Not enough to cross any real line.
Just enough to make heat curl low in your stomach.
The festival still rages around you in flashes of colour and bass and distant shouting, but out here near the edge of the grounds everything feels slightly softer somehow. More private.
Or maybe Joe just has a dangerous ability to make you forget other people exist.
His forehead drops briefly against yours.
“You have any idea how hard it’s been not dragging you somewhere quieter for the last hour?”
You laugh breathlessly. “Joe, we literally just met.”
“Yeah.” His thumb strokes lazily against your waist. “Feels unreal honestly.”
The crazy thing is, you know exactly what he means.
Because strangers aren’t supposed to fit this easily.
You’re supposed to still feel awkward around him. Self-conscious. Aware of yourself.
Instead, standing here pressed against the side of a food truck while festival lights flash multicoloured across Joe’s face, you feel weirdly known already. Like your body decided to trust him before your brain caught up.
Joe kisses you again before you can think too hard about that.
This one gets messy almost immediately.
His hands settle firmly at your hips while your back presses harder against the metal behind you, mouths parting instinctively against each other as the music somewhere behind you drops heavier again.
Joe groans softly when your fingers tighten in his hair.
“You like that?” you murmur.
His eyes narrow slightly. “Don’t start sounding smug.”
You tug lightly again just to watch his composure disappear further.
“Oh, you definitely like that.”
“Baby,” Joe says weakly, “you cannot say things like that while lookin’ at me like this.”
You grin. “Like what?”
“Like you already know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
Maybe you do.
A little.
Because Joe reacts to everything immediately.
Every touch lands visibly somewhere on him before he can hide it. The hitch in his breathing whenever your nails scrape lightly against his neck. The way his hands tighten instinctively at your waist every time you press closer.
And God, he keeps looking at you.
Not shyly either.
Openly.
Like he still can’t quite believe you’re real.
His mouth drifts from yours eventually, kissing slowly down your jaw instead, then lower toward your neck while his hands flatten harder against your waist.
The bass from the stage vibrates through the metal behind you. Somebody screams drunkenly somewhere nearby.
Joe kisses the sensitive spot beneath your ear and murmurs, almost absently, “You’re so fucking pretty.”
Your breath catches embarrassingly fast.
Joe notices immediately.
Of course he does.
A grin tugs briefly at his mouth against your skin before he kisses you there again, slower this time, while your fingers tighten instinctively in his curls.
“You know what’s really dangerous?” he says quietly.
“What?”
“The fact I genuinely can’t decide whether I wanna keep kissing you out here all night or drag you back to my hotel immediately.”
Heat rushes hard through your stomach.
“Joe.”
“I’m serious.” His nose brushes yours briefly before he kisses you again. “You’re making it very difficult to behave like a normal person.”
You laugh softly into his mouth, but it dissolves quickly when his hand slides beneath your shorts just enough for his fingertips to brush the top of your thigh properly.
Not enough.
Nowhere near enough.
But your whole body still reacts instantly.
Joe exhales sharply against your lips.
“…Jesus Christ.”
Your forehead knocks lightly against his shoulder as you laugh breathlessly. “You’re dramatic.”
“You’re grinding against me beside a food truck.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
Joe actually groans at that, head dropping briefly against your shoulder while your hands drift lower across his chest.
The tension between you has become almost unbearable now. Sweat-slick skin. Tangled breaths. Joe’s rings cold briefly against your waist every time his hands shift.
You can feel how hard he’s trying not to completely lose his mind.
Which becomes significantly harder to ignore when he presses closer and you realise exactly how affected he is.
“Oh,” you murmur quietly.
Joe immediately looks vaguely tortured.
“Yeah,” he says weakly. “Oh.”
Something about the honesty of it makes your stomach flip violently.
Not because it’s arrogant.
Because it isn’t.
Joe looks genuinely overwhelmed by you.
Your mouths crash together again before either of you can think too hard about it, messier now, all tongue and heat and bad decisions. Your hands slide beneath his shirt instinctively, fingertips dragging across warm skin while Joe makes another rough sound low in his throat.
Then your hips roll against his without meaning to.
Joe goes completely still for half a second.
“…okay,” he says suddenly, breathless against your mouth.
You blink slightly. “What?”
“I need to stop before I make an extremely poor decision in public.”
You laugh softly. “That responsible of you?”
“No.” Joe kisses you once more, quick and rough. “I just think if I finally get you alone properly, I wanna do this right.”
That lands somewhere deep enough inside your chest to feel dangerous.
Joe notices your expression immediately.
“There’s that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one where you start realising I’m charming.”
You snort loudly.
“Oh my god.”
Joe grins lazily, clearly pleased with himself again now that he’s regained approximately three percent of his composure.
Then, quieter, “You wanna get outta here?”
You look at him for a second.
Sweaty curls. Pink lips swollen from kissing you for the better part of an hour. Glitter smeared faintly across his cheekbone beneath flashing festival lights.
Joe looks wrecked already.
Entirely because of you.
That’s a difficult thing to say no to.
So instead you hook your fingers through the front of his shirt and kiss him first.
Joe makes a startled sound against your mouth before immediately pulling you closer again, one hand flattening instinctively against the small of your back.
“That a yes?” he murmurs.
You smile slightly against his lips.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Where exactly you’re taking me.”
Joe’s grin turns slower this time. Warmer somehow.
“My hotel,” he says quietly. “If you want.”
And God.
Maybe it’s reckless.
Maybe it’s the music and the heat and the fact his mouth still tastes faintly like vodka cranberry and mint gum.
Or maybe it’s just him.
But you nod anyway.
Joe kisses you once more like he physically can’t help himself.
Then finally, reluctantly, pulls himself away enough to grab your hand.
And neither of you lets go the entire walk out of the festival.
The taxi ride back into the city is significantly less respectable than either of you intended.
Not that either of you were aiming particularly high to begin with.
The second the car pulls away from the festival grounds, Joe’s kissing you again like he physically cannot help himself, one hand sliding immediately onto your thigh while your back presses against the door beside you.
“You are-” he says breathlessly against your mouth before kissing you again, “such a bad idea.”
You grin into the kiss. “You started it.”
“No,” Joe mutters, lips brushing yours again. “Pretty sure you looked at me first.”
Your laugh dissolves embarrassingly quickly into a quiet sound when his hand slides higher up your leg beneath his jacket draped over your lap.
Still public.
Technically.
Which somehow only makes it worse.
Or better.
Definitely worse.
The city streaks past outside in blurred gold and neon while Joe kisses you slow and messy beside the window, all warm hands and swollen lips and the lingering taste of alcohol.
You can feel the driver very deliberately trying not to look in the mirror.
Joe notices too.
Which absolutely does not improve his behaviour.
“If this guy crashes because you keep making out with me in his eyeline, that’s on you,” you murmur against his mouth.
Joe laughs softly, forehead knocking briefly against yours.
“Baby, you climbed into this taxi already lookin’ at me like that. I never stood a chance.”
His thumb strokes slowly along the inside of your thigh.
Your legs squeeze together instinctively.
Joe notices immediately.
Of course he does.
A dangerous grin appears against your mouth before he leans closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“You keep doin’ that,” he murmurs quietly, “and I’m genuinely not gonna make it upstairs.”
Heat floods through you so fast it’s almost humiliating.
“Joe.”
“What?” His mouth drifts lazily down your neck now. “Just bein’ honest.”
You’re suddenly very aware of how long this taxi ride is taking.
Joe’s hand tightens slightly on your thigh when you shift closer, fingertips pressing just enough into your skin to make your stomach flip again.
“You’re awful,” you whisper.
“Mhm.” He kisses you again immediately. “Still came back to my hotel though.”
Your fingers slide beneath the collar of his shirt, nails scraping lightly across warm skin.
Joe groans softly against your mouth.
“There it is,” you murmur smugly.
His eyes narrow slightly. “You really enjoy seeing me lose composure, huh?”
“You lose composure very prettily.”
Joe actually laughs at that, the sound low and wrecked from kissing you for the better part of the evening.
Then he glances briefly toward the front of the taxi before leaning close again.
“You know what’s really not helping?”
“What?”
“The fact I can already tell you’re gonna sound gorgeous when I finally get you alone.”
Your breath catches hard enough that Joe immediately looks pleased with himself.
“Oh, that got you.”
You cover your face briefly with one hand. “You cannot say shit like that in public.”
“We’re in the back of a taxi at one in the morning after grinding on each other beside a food truck. I think we’re past public decency.”
A startled laugh bursts out of you loud enough that the driver definitely hears it this time.
Joe starts laughing too, head dropping briefly against your shoulder while your hand grips instinctively at the front of his shirt.
For a second, neither of you can stop giggling.
Tipsy.
Overheated.
Slightly delirious from chemistry.
Joe looks up at you eventually, still smiling slightly, curls completely ruined from your hands.
Then, softly, “You’re really pretty when you laugh.”
God.
That one lands harder than the filthy comments somehow.
You kiss him again before he can see it affect you too much.
Joe hums softly against your mouth, one hand sliding firmly to your waist now as you shift half into his lap without really deciding to.
The movement pulls a sharp inhale from both of you.
“Jesus Christ,” Joe mutters weakly.
You’re suddenly very aware of exactly how little space exists between your bodies now. Very aware of the fact his hand’s spread possessively across your hip beneath your top. Very aware of how badly you want this.
Joe’s mouth drifts slowly along your jaw again while the city glows outside the windows.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs quietly.
Instead, you kiss him harder.
Joe makes a low sound against your mouth that nearly finishes you off on the spot.
The taxi cannot possibly be moving fast enough.
The hotel room is quiet in a way the festival never was.
No screaming crowds. No bass vibrating through your chest. No flashing lights.
Just soft city glow filtering through massive windows while the door clicks shut behind you.
For the first time all night, neither of you speaks immediately.
Joe stands with his back against the closed door, staring at you like he’s trying to process the fact you’re actually here.
Your makeup’s smudged slightly beneath your eyes. His shirt’s creased beyond saving. Both of you still smell faintly like sweat and alcohol and summer heat.
Joe looks devastating like this.
Real.
You step toward him slowly.
Joe’s hands find your waist instantly the second you’re close enough, like reflex now, and the kiss he pulls you into feels different from the others immediately.
Less frantic.
Still hungry.
Still messy around the edges.
But softer too.
Like now that he’s finally got you somewhere private, he wants to take his time.
His thumbs drift slowly beneath your top while your fingers slide into his curls again, and Joe exhales quietly against your mouth like the touch physically affects him every single time.
“You have any idea,” he murmurs softly between kisses, “how hard it was not touching you properly tonight?”
Heat curls low in your stomach again.
“You touched me plenty.”
Joe laughs quietly against your lips. “Not nearly enough. Not like I'm gonna.”
The backs of your thighs brush lightly against the edge of the bed as Joe keeps kissing you deeper, slower, one hand sliding carefully up your spine while the other settles warm against your hip.
The city lights spill gold across his face when he pulls back slightly to look at you.
And there it is again.
That look.
Like he’s slightly overwhelmed by you.
“You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?”
You smile despite yourself, but it disappears quickly when Joe kisses slowly down your jaw again, mouth warm against your skin while his hands drift beneath your shirt properly this time.
Palms against bare skin.
The contact pulls a quiet breath from your chest immediately.
Joe notices.
Of course he does.
His head lifts just enough for his nose to brush yours.
“You okay?”
The fact he asks nearly ruins you completely.
Not because you aren’t okay.
Because he cares enough to check.
You nod softly.
“Yeah.”
Joe studies your face for another second anyway before kissing you again.
Slower now.
Intentional.
The kind of kiss that feels like being gradually undressed emotionally alongside physically.
His hands push gently beneath your top again, fingertips spreading carefully against your waist while your own drift lower beneath the hem of his shirt.
Warm skin. Soft hair beneath your fingertips. The steady rise and fall of his breathing.
Joe shivers slightly when your nails scrape lightly across his stomach.
His forehead drops briefly against yours while you giggle at his reaction.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Watching you fall apart? A little.”
Joe groans quietly at that before kissing you harder again, one hand sliding into your hair while the other hooks beneath your thigh instinctively, pulling you closer against him.
The friction makes both of you inhale sharply.
And suddenly the room feels much warmer.
Joe’s mouth leaves yours long enough to kiss slowly down your neck, lingering beneath your jaw while your hands tighten automatically in the fabric of his shirt.
“You smell so good,” he murmurs distractedly against your skin.
Your stomach flips violently.
“Joe.”
“Hm?”
“You say things like that very casually.”
Joe grins against your throat.
“Sorry.” Another kiss. “You’re just very distracting.”
Your laugh dissolves into a quiet gasp instead when his teeth scrape lightly against the sensitive spot beneath your ear.
Joe immediately goes still.
“…shit.”
You blink at him slightly dazed. “What?”
“That noise.” He looks faintly tortured suddenly. “You cannot make noises like that while we’re trying to behave like normal adults.”
You laugh breathlessly. “Pretty sure we lost that battle hours ago.”
“Fair.”
Joe kisses you again before either of you can think too hard about anything.
Then his hands slide lower.
Over your waist. Your ribs. Your thighs.
Like he can't decide where he wants to touch first.
Every touch feels slightly reverent. Like he’s trying to memorise you already.
You tug him closer by the front of his jeans and Joe groans softly into your mouth.
“Baby.”
The word lands hot beneath your ribs.
You kiss him harder in response.
Joe nudges you backwards gently, and the way he looks at you when you sit down nearly knocks the breath clean from your lungs.
Completely gone for you already.
And honestly, you’re not doing much better.
Joe steps between your knees instinctively, fingertips brushing your jaw slowly while city lights glow warm against his skin.
Then, quieter, “You sure?”
Your chest aches a little unexpectedly.
Because God.
You barely know this man.
And somehow he’s still being gentle with you.
You reach for him immediately, fingers curling through the front of his belt loops to tug him closer again.
“Kiss me,” you whisper.
Joe looks wrecked already.
He obeys instantly.
The second you've got him laying over you, forearms bracketing either side of your head, your hands are all over him.
You tug desperately at his shirt, and he quickly gets the message, lifting his arms one at a time so you can throw his shirt somewhere behind your head.
He's so gorgeous it almost distracts you for a second. Soft skin stretched over lean muscle, broad shoulders, hairy chest, soft stomach that still somehow feels solid beneath your palms.
You're still staring slightly when he leans back down with a smug smile to kiss you again.
Your hands grip his shoulders tightly as he shifts his weight onto one arm, the other sliding beneath your shirt to cup one of your breasts through your bra.
The sound that leaves your mouth is downright sinful, and Joe immediately bucks his hips forward against yours with a low groan.
He sits back on his heels, straddling your thighs, to tug your shirt over your head, then your bra. The second your chest is bare beneath him, he goes visibly distracted.
“Fuck, baby,” he mutters under his breath, eyes fixed on you like he can’t decide where to look first.
You grab the back of his neck immediately, pulling him back down into another deep kiss before he can keep staring long enough to make you self-conscious.
The feeling of his bare chest pressed against yours is almost overwhelming. His chest hair brushes against your sensitive nipples every time he moves, and he swallows every soft noise you make like he’s addicted to hearing them.
His hips grind steadily against yours now, and you can feel exactly how hard he is even through his jeans and your shorts.
Then he pulls away, sliding lower down your body until his mouth hovers over one of your nipples.
Fuck.
Those eyes.
The look he gives you with those hazel eyes is genuinely unfair.
He keeps eye contact as his lips wrap around your nipple, the hand not supporting his weight squeezing your other breast while his tongue circles slowly around the sensitive bud.
Your hips jerk instinctively beneath him.
Your fingers tangle tightly in his curls, tugging lightly at the overwhelming sensation.
“Fu- fuck, Joe,” you whine, your head tipping back despite how badly you want to keep watching him.
The sight of him between your breasts, lips swollen already from kissing you all night, is enough to ruin you by itself.
He switches to the other nipple, kneading slowly at the one he’s just been sucking on while a rough groan vibrates against your skin like he’s getting as much out of this as you are.
You grab his shoulders to drag him back upwards until his face hovers over yours again, immediately pulling him into another hungry kiss.
Your hands slide between you to undo his belt while he kisses you breathless, helping you shove it open before sitting back briefly to unzip his jeans.
He stands just long enough to kick them off before climbing back over you again.
Now he’s only in his boxers, and you can see the shape of him properly for the first time.
Fuck.
You’re practically drooling.
Joe slides your shorts slowly down your legs, leaving both of you in nothing but underwear.
The second he starts grinding against you again, he gasps softly into your mouth at how wet you already are for him, even through the layers between you.
“Got you this worked up already, huh baby?” he teases, though the confidence barely masks how affected he is too, hips stuttering slightly against yours every few seconds like he’s struggling to stay composed.
“Shut up,” you murmur, laughing breathlessly against his lips.
The kisses soften after that.
Slow down slightly.
Like both your nerves have finally caught up with you. Like it’s suddenly dawned on both of you what the next step actually is.
Joe presses gentle kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, lower toward your stomach, while his hands draw slow circles against your hips until he’s hovering between your thighs.
“This okay?” he asks softly.
The look on his face nearly melts you on the spot.
You have to pull yourself together just enough to nod.
“Please, Joe.”
At that, his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear as he slowly peels them down your thighs, your hips lifting automatically to help him.
The look on his face when he finally sees you properly almost finishes you off by itself.
Your folds are swollen and slick with arousal already, and Joe genuinely looks overwhelmed for a second by the sight of you.
He glances up briefly to find you watching him, already desperate.
Then he drags his tongue teasingly between your folds.
Your reaction is instant.
Head thrown back. Eyes squeezed shut. A helpless sound leaving your throat from that tiny bit of contact alone.
Joe kisses your clit softly before sucking it gently between his lips, and you already know you’re done for.
This time he dives in properly.
Still gentle.
Still attentive.
But greedier now that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
His tongue laps between your folds while his hands hold your thighs open for him, alternating between kissing, sucking, licking until your whole body feels unbearably sensitive.
“Joe, I-” you barely manage.
“What is it, baby?” he mumbles against your skin, lips curving slightly against you.
“Wanna cum on your cock. Come here.”
Fuck.
Joe swears he nearly comes in his boxers hearing that.
He crawls back up your body immediately, kissing you hard the second he reaches your mouth again.
Your hands reach down desperately to shove his boxers lower, and the second his cock springs free, your eyes widen slightly.
He’s gorgeous.
Thick and flushed and leaking pre-cum already.
You wrap your hand around him instinctively, barely able to fit your fingers fully around the girth, and swipe your thumb through the bead of pre-cum at the tip before bringing it to your lips.
Joe groans loudly at the sight, forehead dropping briefly into the crook of your neck while his hips jerk helplessly against yours, the head of his cock catching against your folds for the first time.
Both of you gasp.
“Need to be inside you, baby,” he says breathlessly. “That okay? Can I?”
He’s rambling now, and you’re nodding before he’s even finished speaking, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer while one hand grips his shoulder and the other tangles tightly in his curls again.
“Please,” you murmur against his lips, pulling him into one more deep, messy kiss as he finally pushes inside you.
The sounds both of you make are genuinely obscene.
The stretch burns slightly at first, but the feeling of fullness almost immediately overrides it.
You need more.
“Fuck me, Joe,” you whisper.
You feel him shudder hard above you at the words.
He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, grinding into you with slow, steady thrusts that knock breathless moans from your chest almost instantly.
Everything about it feels messy and desperate. Like neither of you can think clearly enough to maintain rhythm properly.
One of Joe’s hands grips tightly onto your thigh wrapped around his waist, grounding himself in you while keeping you spread open beneath him.
The roll of his hips feels devastating. The low sounds leaving his mouth against yours are enough to push you dangerously close embarrassingly fast.
And somehow, despite how filthy this is, it still feels painfully intimate too.
Too intimate for people who met tonight.
You already know you’re never getting enough of him after this.
“Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, honey,” Joe groans against your neck after a few minutes. “You gonna cum for me?”
His hand slips between your bodies, thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements that make your whole body jolt.
You whine helplessly, head tipping back while your legs tighten hard around his waist.
“That’s it,” you gasp. “Right there- fuck-”
The orgasm hits suddenly and hard, rolling through your entire body at once.
Your back arches off the mattress, chest pressed flush against his while your thighs shake violently around him.
Joe groans loudly into your neck at the feeling of you clenching around him, thrusting a few more desperate, uneven times before stilling completely as he comes hard inside you.
His mouth finds yours immediately.
And somehow that’s the part that overwhelms you most.
Not the orgasm.
Not the sex.
The kiss.
Slow and deep and almost unbearably intimate while both of you fall apart together.
As the adrenaline finally starts fading, your legs slowly loosen from around his waist while Joe lowers himself carefully on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he already belongs there.
He presses lazy kisses against your skin while he slips slowly out of you, and you whine softly at the loss, making him laugh quietly against your throat.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs.
You can’t exactly find it in yourself to be mad about it.
Later, much later, the city’s gone quiet outside the windows.
Joe’s lying shirtless beside you beneath tangled hotel sheets while your head rests heavy against his chest.
Neither of you has managed to stop touching each other for more than about thirty seconds all night.
Even now his fingers drift lazily across your bare shoulder while your leg stays tangled loosely with his beneath the blankets.
The adrenaline’s finally worn off enough to leave something softer behind.
Exhaustion. Warmth. That strange intimacy that appears late at night when everything starts feeling slightly more honest than usual.
Joe presses a sleepy kiss against the top of your head.
“You know what’s crazy?” he murmurs.
“What?”
“I almost didn’t go tonight.”
You lift your head slightly. “Seriously?”
“Mhm.” Joe’s fingers drift slowly through your hair now. “Tour’s been insane recently. I was exhausted.”
A smile tugs faintly at your mouth.
“Well. That would’ve been tragic for you.”
Joe laughs softly beneath you.
“See?” His arm tightens slightly around your waist. “There’s that ego again.”
“You like my ego.”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
You grin sleepily against his chest while silence settles comfortably around the room again.
Then, eventually, “What happens tomorrow?”
Joe goes quiet for a second.
Not awkward.
Just thoughtful.
“I dunno,” he admits softly. “Guess we find out.”
His honesty feels strangely intimate somehow.
No performance. No fake promises about fate or forever after six hours together.
Just openness.
Possibility.
Joe’s fingers drift absently down your spine again while the city glows quietly beyond the windows.
Then, after a pause, “But I do know I’m taking you to breakfast.”
You laugh quietly. “That confident I’ll still be here?”
Joe looks down at you then.
Really looks at you.
And something in his expression softens all over again.
“Honey,” he says quietly, “I really hope you are.”
dividers: saradika-graphics
