julie

26 | she/her | french | just writing fanfictions when I have a crush

[judysxnd]

Main masterlist

>>> for the smut writings, please minors DNI <<<

Started: 21.06.2021

Last updated: 25.05.2026 (Joe Keery masterlist)

Total works: 107

Joe Keery masterlist

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[oohlillie]

⟶ 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡

𝘑𝘰𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

WORD COUNT : 1.1K

Summary : Joe offers you a special and unique gift for your birthday, the kind that you’ll always remember.

Warnings : mention of sex (nothing explicit); no use of y/n; tooth rotting fluff; romantic; reader’s birthday; (tell me if i missed some) possible grammatical errors

Lillie talks : okay i thought about this because i saw a girl on tiktok who customized a vinyl for her boyfriend, and i thought that Joe would completely be the type to do this !! I really love this one, hope you’ll like it !! 💕

English is NOT my first language, sorry if i wrote wrong !! c:

This morning Joe had woke you up with small open-mouth kisses everywhere on your face and neck. A tray on which were toasted bread with jam, cut fruits, a cup of coffee and a flower for decoration, was placed on the bedside table. He’d whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek while you stirred and yawned from your sleep. The smell of the hot breakfast filled your nose, making your smile widen before Joe kisses your lips softly. You’d spend the entire morning in bed, Joe’s fingers brushed your skin sometimes while you ate the breakfast he’d prepared for you.

The day was surprisingly like all the other days, Joe left around 11am because he had some important things to do while you hung out with your best friends. Mid afternoon, Joe had texted you : ‘i’ll pick you up around 7. get ready. love you.’ You smiled widely in front of the text.

The birthday dinner had stretched late into the evening, filled with laughter and stolen glances. Joe’s hand finding yours every chance he got. By the time you stepped through the front door, your shoes were already kicked off and you quickly disappeared into your bedroom.

The city lights outside your apartment flickered over Joe’s skin, the noises of the city muffled by the windows. You were tangled under the sheets in the quiet of your bedroom. A sweet scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air from the previous rounds you had tonight.

You were curled against Joe’s chest, your cheek resting over his heartbeat while his fingers lazily traced patterns along your shoulder. Joe pressed a quick kiss into your hair, before whispering “Happy birthday baby”.

You smiled against his skin, “You said that a hundred times today.”

“I know.”

You laughed quietly before he tilt your chin to kiss you, slow and sweet. When you pulled apart, your head settled back against him, while he smiled softly.

Then suddenly, “Oh.” he said sitting up quickly, his eyes widening a little.

“Oh ?” You blinked.

“Oh my god.” He said quietly before getting up, reaching for the closet.

“What ?”

“I forgot your gift.”

Your brows frowned as you sat up, “What do you mean ? You offered me a beautiful necklace.”

“Yeah. But that was just a plus.” He said as he pulled out a square package wrapped in simple brown paper, with handwritten words ‘happy birthday’ in a fancy police.

You finally sat up fully, covering your naked body with the covers. Joe finally came back to the bed, handing you the package.

“Joe.”

“Open it.”

Your heart was already racing. He’d already offered you a necklace you mentioned months ago but were too expensive to buy, a flower bouquet and the way he ate you out earlier was clearly gifted.

You carefully peeled away the paper. Then froze. It was a vinyl record, a custom one. You stared at it for a moment, your chest tightening immediately when you saw the cover. Your favorite photo booth picture, from years ago, the one of the night he told you that he loved you. You laughing and covering your mouth, eyes closed, while Joe looked at you instead of the camera, a huge smile on his lips.

“Joe..”

“Turn it around.”

On the back was a sticky little pink paper, on which he had written : “here are my favorite love song i wrote about you, since we’re together, that you never heard about and which were too personal to be released.”

He studied your reaction. Your eyes softened, as you read the text, your vision getting slightly blurry. You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze again, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

When you took off the note, you started at the track list, hands trembling already. 10 songs in total. 10 songs about you, about the love he has for you. Every title felt personal.

“Adam helped me to record them.”

You laughed quietly, “He knows about this ?”

“He suffered through months of me obsessing over it.”

“Oh my god..”

“He told me that I was way too romantic.”

“He’s not wrong.” You smiled.

Then suddenly, you stood up, pulling one of Joe’s shirt over your head, before heading to the living room where the record player was.

Joe watched you moving around in the apartment. Messy hair from the action, his shirt oversized for her, a spark in her eyes and a birthday glow still lingering on her face. The first song began. An acoustic song.

Joe suddenly appeared in the room, settled behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. Then the lyrics started. A few important memories puts in lovely lyrics. The first time he saw you. The first road trip you took. The way you stole his clothes. The way you laugh louder than everyone. Tiny moments that meant more than just that.

By the third song, you felt tears forming in your eyes. By the fifth, you were wiping your face. Joe noticed immediately, of course.

“Hey, hey.” He shifted, turning you around to face him. His thumb brushing your cheek to wipe the tears away.

“No, keep listening.” You said between two sigh, turning back to the record.

“You’re crying.”

You shook your head, “I’m listening.” He kissed your temple softly as you leaned back against him.

The last song started. The softest on the record. Just joe’s voice and a guitar, nothing else. It somehow made it worse. The tears that stopped falling began to fall again. It sounded so honest. So vulnerable. He wasn’t singing for anyone else in the world, just you. His hand found your face, brushing the tears away from your cheeks.

When it ended, silence filled the room. The record spun quietly. You stared at the cover in front of you. At that sweet picture that hold a lot of memories. At him.

Joe rested his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening, “What do you think ?”

You swallowed hardly, then laughed through your tears, “I think you’re ridiculous.”

He smiled, “Good.”

“And completely in love with me.”

He slowly turned you around, his grip firm on your hips, “Yeah.”

For a moment neither of them spoke. You simply looked at him. His messy curls falling on his forehead. His sleepy eyes. The two tiny moles on his left cheek. The tiny smile he always wore every time he’s around you.

Suddenly you felt it. A realization that you loved him more than you thought. So much it almost hurt. Being love by Joe was something special, something different from any other relationship.

You reached up and cupped his face, he immediately leaned into your touch.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You finally kissed him, slow and tender. When you pulled apart, your forehead rested against his.

“I love you.” You whispered.

Joe smiled instantly, “I love you too.”

You glanced back to the vinyl again. The best gift you’d ever received. Joe pulled you back against his chest, wrapping both of his arms round you. You couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than this.

thank you all for reading !! i hope you liked it girls 💕

masterlist. feel free to ask anything !!

[honey-and-halos]

Flashing Lights

Pairing: Joe Keery x Reader

Summary: They don't call him Joe 'Keeps making jokes' Keery for nothing

The moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the noise hit you all at once.

It was louder than you expected. Cameras clicking, people shouting names, flashes lighting up the carpet so quickly that you barely had time to blink between them. You had been fine on the drive over, or at least you had convinced yourself you were fine, sitting beside Joe with your hand tucked into his and your knee bouncing beneath the hem of your outfit.

Now, standing in front of a wall of photographers with dozens of people calling for you both to look their way, you could feel your confidence slipping.

Joe noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

His hand found the small of your back before you could even say anything, warm and steady, grounding you without making it obvious. He leaned closer, his smile still fixed for the cameras, and murmured, “For the record, I also think this is weird. Grown adults yelling at us to turn left like we’re confused Sims.”

A laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it.

Joe’s grin widened, pleased with himself. “There she is.”

You glanced up at him, trying to hide how grateful you were, but he already knew. He always knew. His hand stayed firm against your back as he guided you a step forward, careful not to rush you, careful not to let the crowd swallow you whole.

“Joe! Over here!”

“Y/N, this way!”

“Joe, can we get one together?”

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of your name being shouted from every direction. Joe must have felt it, because he shifted a little closer, his body angled slightly in front of yours, not enough to block you completely, but enough to make you feel sheltered.

He turned his head towards you again. “Do you reckon if I trip dramatically, they’ll stop taking photos of you and start asking if I need medical assistance?”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile too obviously. “Please don’t.”

“I’m just saying, I’m willing to commit to the bit.”

“You are not falling on a red carpet for me.”

“I would absolutely fall on a red carpet for you,” he said seriously, then paused. “Maybe not face first. I have limits.”

This time, you laughed properly, and the photographers noticed.

“Beautiful! Hold that!”

Joe looked smug. “See? I’m a professional.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” he said, squeezing your waist gently.

The comment was quiet, meant only for you, but the way he looked at you was impossible to miss. Soft. Proud. Protective in a way that made your chest ache.

As you moved further down the carpet, an interviewer waved the two of you over. You felt your nerves return the second a microphone was pointed in your direction. Joe sensed that too. He always seemed to catch the smallest changes in you, the way your fingers curled into your palm or your smile became a little too fixed.

Before the interviewer could ask anything, Joe leaned towards the microphone and said, “Just so everyone knows, she’s carrying this entire evening. I’m mostly here for moral support and snacks.”

The interviewer laughed. “You two look amazing tonight.”

Joe looked at you instead of answering straight away. “Yeah, she does.”

Your face warmed, and you nudged him lightly with your elbow. “You’re meant to say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he said, still looking at you. “But I stand by what I said.”

The interviewer smiled, clearly picking up on the way Joe kept checking on you between questions. “You seem very calm together.”

Joe laughed under his breath. “That’s because one of us is actually cool, and the other one is me pretending I know what I’m doing.”

You shook your head, but you were smiling now. A real smile. The tightness in your chest had started to ease, replaced by the comfort of Joe standing beside you, making himself a shield without ever making you feel small.

When the interviewer asked you a question, Joe stayed quiet, but his thumb brushed gently against your side. A tiny reminder that he was there. That you did not have to rush. That you were doing fine.

You answered, your voice a little shaky at first, but stronger by the end. Joe watched you with that soft, proud expression again, the one that made it hard to remember anyone else was around.

When you finished, he leaned in and whispered, “That was very hot of you.”

“Joe,” you hissed, trying not to laugh with the microphone still nearby.

“What? I’m supporting you.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“Lovingly.”

The interviewer laughed again, and somewhere nearby, cameras flashed faster. You could already imagine the clips online later. Joe Keery making Y/N laugh on the red carpet. Joe Keery unable to stop looking at Y/N. Joe Keery being protective as Y/N gets nervous.

And maybe people were noticing.

Maybe they could see the way he kept his hand on your back, the way he gently moved you away from the louder photographers when they started calling too much, the way he answered quickly whenever someone tried to talk over you, giving you space to breathe.

But for once, you did not mind being noticed.

Because Joe made the whole thing feel less terrifying.

As you reached the end of the carpet, you let out a breath you had not realised you were holding. Joe looked down at you.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

His face softened. “You did so good.”

“You kept making jokes.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, slipping his hand into yours as you stepped away from the flashing lights, “you looked nervous.”

“I was nervous.”

“I know.” His voice went quieter. “That’s why I wasn’t going to let you stand there feeling alone.”

Your heart squeezed.

For a moment, the noise of the carpet faded behind you. There was only Joe, his fingers linked with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, his smile gentler now that no one was shouting for it.

“You’re very protective, you know,” you said.

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but the tips of his ears turned pink. “Only because you’re you.”

You smiled up at him. “That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense in my head.”

You laughed, and Joe’s expression softened all over again, like that had been the whole point. Like he would make a fool of himself in front of a hundred cameras if it meant getting you to breathe a little easier.

Then he leaned closer, his voice low and warm beside your ear.

“Come on. Let’s go inside before I actually have to fake an injury.”

“You are so dramatic.”

“Protective,” he corrected.

You squeezed his hand.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Protective.”

[lustfaeeryy]

AAAA NEED THAT

[oohlillie]

⟼ ⊹ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ⊹

𝘑𝘰𝘦 𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Request : here

WORD COUNT : 1.2K

Summary : After giving birth, there was only two things that you missed. Sex and feeling pretty. And you’re husband makes sure that you feel both again.

Warnings : explicit sexual content; 18+; SMUT; fingering; post-partum sex; unprotected p in v (stay safe guys); kinda insecure feeling; no use of y/n; established relationship; gentle sex; FLUFF; joe!daddy; (tell me if i missed some); possible grammatical errors.

Lillie Talks : THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST !! I loved writing this and i think that i did great. Tell me what you think of it 💕

English is NOT my first language, sorry if i wrote wrong !! c: Request are open

Four months ago, you gave birth to your beautiful baby daughter. Everything was perfect. Your baby was healthy and you had a perfect relationship with your husband, Joe. Except that you missed something.. sex.

Joe hadn’t touched you for several months, he was scared that you’ll be too sensitive and he thought that it was probably the last thing you needed. He was worried that you’ll be too overwhelmed by taking care of the baby and of yourself. So he made his best.

He put the baby to sleep, woke up when she needed something in the middle of the night, reassured her every time she cried and reminded you how beautiful you look after you told him how you feel ugly. Everyday, Joe tries to come back home earlier than before. He loved taking care of both of you.

That one night, Joe had come home around 7pm. He’d kissed you deeply, a huge smile on his face, before taking your girl to the bath like he did every nights. Around 8pm, he puts her to sleep and come back to you.

Usually he would find you in bed already falling asleep. But tonight you wanted something else, you wanted your husband to find you sexy again. So you took a shower, using the vanilla soap that he loved. You moisturized your entire body with an expensive cream and put on one of your old lingerie set from your honeymoon. Then you put on a silk and lace tank top with a short shorts, hair still styled from the day, and got comfortable in your bed.

The moon light filtered through the curtains of the bedroom, your skin lightened by the soft light on your bedside table.

When Joe opened the door he found you, like always, under the sheets but this time you were waiting for him.

“Oh, I thought that you were sleeping.” He said quietly, gently closing the door behind him.

“No, I was waiting for you.” You answered with a small grin. He lied down next to you, his arms wrapping automatically around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The scent of your skin quickly made it’s way to Joe’s nose and his brows frowned slightly.

“You smell good, baby.” He said tucking his face into your neck. Your smile grew further when his hand slide under the sheets to rest on your stomach. The silk was soft under his skin, he slowly lift his head up. “You’re wearing silk ?”

“Yeah, why ?” He slowly removed the blanket from your body, his eyes widening as he saw the clothes you were wearing. His gaze moved back to yours, small smile on his lips.

“I wanted to be pretty for you.”

His eyes softened, “Oh my love, you’re always pretty, i always think that you’re pretty.” He said, voice soft, his hand finding your cheek. Your smile grew, a soft breath escaping your lips.

“You know.. I miss your touch.”

His brows frowned again, “What do you mean ?”

“I miss when we had sex..” You bit your lips.

“Oh, you miss that touch.” He said, his smile widening, teasingly. His hand slid under your top, holding your waist firmly. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“But I need you now-” His lips found yours, cutting your words. His tongue tasted you like he hadn’t done in so long. He quickly climbed over you, his forearms settling on both sides of your head. Your noses bumping into each other’s. Hands sliding to grip your ass gently. He pressed your body against his so close you could already feel a tent forming in his pants.

Then he slowly took your top off, exposing your laced bra. He stopped, admiring your chest, “Hey, I know this one.” He said smiling, remembering the night of your wedding.

“You still like it ?”

“Of course I like it. I love it.” He said before closing his lips around yours again. Kissing you hard and messy. You moaned lightly into his mouth. His bulge now pressed on your lower stomach.

“I want you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” He whispered.

“I’ll tell you.” You answered before pressing your lips on his again.

His right hand slid into your pants, fingers slowly brushing against your already wet thong. After teasing you for a moment, he finally took your shorts and panties off, fingers now moving between your folds.

“You’re so wet, my love.” He whispered, fingers rubbing circles on your clit. Your hips rocked against the movement of his fingers. His mouth found to the crook of your neck, his hands explored your body, like he did a hundred times before.

His other hand found the straps of your bra, unbuckling it and letting your swollen breasts sprang free in front of him. Little moans escaped your lips as he pushed two fingers inside you.

Your breath fastened from his touch. His thumb drawing circles on your clit while he fucked you with his other fingers. Louder moans escaped your lips, chest rising up and down faster.

When he pulled back, both of you breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other’s. His hands left your body for a second. He quickly took off his pants and boxers, the thick head of his cock leaking pre-cum. You felt him hot and hard on your thigh, but his hands quickly grabbed himself, dragging the tip of his cock to your entrance.

“You’re sure you want to do this ?” He asked quietly, searching your face. You slowly nodded, a moan leaving your lips when he slightly moved his dick between your folds.

Then he finally pushed in carefully and slowly. Even after all these years, he always made sure that you had the time to adjust to his size. Letting you feel every inch. A soft moan left your mouth, his forehead resting against yours.

“Is that okay ?”

“Yea..” You nodded and smiled. His hands held your head. Then he started to roll his hips against yours, making you both moans. One of his hand found your breast, thumb teasing your nipple.

“Fuck.. you feel so good, baby.” He whimpered while thrusting into you.

Then he started to move faster, but still gently. Making sure that this was okay. That this wasn’t too much for you.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispered in your ear, reassuring you.

“Oh fuck, Joe-” You whimpered. Your hips were whining, while your hand found your clit. Teasing yourself while he thrust deeper inside of you.

You both were moaning loud now. Completely lost in the feeling. You could feel your walls clenching around his length, while he drove you over the edge. The sound of your skin slapping mixed with your moans and the wet sound of your pussy. Joe groans sent you over the edge.

And within minutes you were falling apart around him. You cried out, moaning his name as your orgasms hit at the same time, milking his cock and painting your inside walls.

He sank down on your chest, head finding your neck again, kissing it softly. While his dick softened inside you.

“Are you okay ?” He asked, murmuring into your ear. You slowly nodded, a huge smile on your lips. His head lift up, his eyes meeting yours, “You liked it ?”

“Yeah.. I missed it.”

“Me too.” He said before kissing you deeply and more passionately. His hand found your hair, stroking them softly.

“I love you so much, baby.” He whispered between your lips.

“I love you so much too.”

For the first time in a while, you felt pretty and wanted. And just like that Joe fell asleep in your arms, head tucked in your neck.

Thanks for reading girlsss !!

Let me know what you think of it !! I flopped so hard on my last fic but i kinda get it 😭 Hope you loved this one !! Love yall 💕💕

Request are open, feel free to ask anything !! masterlist.

[emqqx]

could you pleaseee write some soft lazy morning sex with joe

"Lazy morning"

⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆

english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!

Summary: in the morning you and Joe spend a lazy day in bed indulging in slow intimate sex

Warnings: smut, 18+, explicit sex, creampies, fluff

The morning light filtered softly through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the bedroom. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, and the world outside seemed hushed, as if it too was reluctant to fully wake.

 You stirred first, nestled against Joe’s chest, your legs tangled with his under the heavy duvet, his arm was draped possessively around your waist, his breath slow and even against the top of your head. 

He smelled like home, faint traces of his cologne from yesterday mixed with the clean, warm scent of sleep.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone. Joe hummed softly, not quite awake, but his body responded instinctively, pulling you closer, his hand slid up your back in slow circles, fingertips tracing the line of your spine beneath the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from him the night before.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, deep and velvety.

“Morning,” you whispered back, tilting your head to look at him.

 His eyes were still half-closed, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, hair tousled in that effortlessly sexy way.

 God, you loved him like this, soft and unguarded, all yours.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

 No rush, just warmth and affection, his mouth moving gently against yours. 

You melted into it, one hand coming up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing over the light stubble there. The kiss deepened gradually, tongues brushing in lazy exploration, tasting the remnants of last night’s shared wine and the sweetness of morning.

Joe’s hand wandered lower, slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest on the bare curve of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you flush against him, you could feel him already half-hard against your thigh, the evidence of his growing arousal warm and solid through his boxers.

“Mmm,” he sighed against your mouth. “You feel so good.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his neck. “So do you. Don’t want to get up yet.”

“Me neither.” His voice was a low rumble. “Let’s stay here all day.”

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, dipping under the waistband of your panties but not pushing further. 

Just teasing, savoring. 

You shivered pleasantly, pressing closer, your breasts brushing against his chest through the thin fabric. The sensation made your nipples tighten, and Joe noticed immediately, he shifted, rolling slightly so you were half beneath him, his weight comforting rather than overwhelming.

He kissed you again, slower this time, pouring love into every brush of lips.

 “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. “Love waking up with you like this.”

“I love you too,” you breathed, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the smooth muscles shift under your palms.

 You trailed your fingers down to the dip at the base of his spine, then lower, slipping beneath his boxers to cup his firm ass and he groaned softly into your mouth, hips rocking forward instinctively.

The movement pressed his now fully hard cock against your core, separated only by thin layers of fabric.

 Heat pooled low in your belly, a slow, delicious ache building but there was no frantic urgency, just a deep, lazy wanting.

Joe pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but soft with adoration. “Can I touch you?” he asked, always so considerate, even after years together.

“Yes,” you nodded, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Please.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingertips skimming over your stomach before dipping into your panties. 

He found you already wet, slick with arousal from the gentle build-up. A low, appreciative sound escaped him as he circled your clit with one finger, feather-light.

“So ready for me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “My beautiful girl.”

You gasped softly as he continued those slow, lazy strokes, building pleasure without haste. Your hips tilted up to meet his touch, but you kept the rhythm unhurried, matching the sleepy morning haze. Joe kissed along your jaw, down your neck, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear that always made you shiver.

He slipped one finger inside you, then two, curling them against that spot that made stars bloom behind your eyelids, his thumb kept up the gentle pressure on your clit. 

You moaned his name quietly, fingers threading through his hair.

“That’s it,” he encouraged softly. “Let me make you feel good.”

The orgasm built like a warm tide, rising slowly, inevitably. When it washed over you, it was gentle but intense, waves of pleasure rolling through your body as you clenched around his fingers. Joe held you through it, whispering sweet nothings, how much he loved you, how perfect you were, how he could do this forever.

You came down slowly, breathing heavy but content, pulling him into a deep kiss, your hand moved between you, palming his erection through his boxers. He was rock hard, the fabric damp where he’d leaked pre-cum. 

You stroked him slowly, savoring the way he throbbed in your grip.

“Want you,” you whispered against his lips.

Joe nodded, helping you push his boxers down, his cock sprang free, thick and flushed, the head glistening.

 You wrapped your hand around him, stroking from base to tip in long, lazy pulls and he groaned, forehead resting against yours.

“Condom?” he asked, even though you were on the pill and had been exclusive for years. He always checked.

You shook your head. “Just you, want to feel all of you.”

He kissed you deeply, then helped slide your panties off. 

Skin to skin now, he settled between your thighs, his weight braced on his elbows, the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, sliding through your wetness, he rocked against you a few times, coating himself, teasing both of you.

Then, with exquisite slowness, he pushed inside.

The stretch was perfect, connecting you completely. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as he bottomed out, hips flush. For a long moment, you just stayed like that, joined, breathing together, eyes locked.

“I love being inside you,” Joe whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Feels like coming home.”

You cupped his face, kissing him tenderly as he began to move. 

Slow, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, grinding gently at the end of each stroke so his pelvis rubbed against your clit.

 It was lazy morning sex at its finest: unhurried, sensual, filled with love.

Your hands explored him freely, running through his hair, down his back, gripping his ass to pull him deeper. His mouth never left you for long, kissing your lips, your neck, your shoulders, wherever he could reach. Soft praises fell from his lips between breaths: “So tight… so wet for me… love you so much… you’re everything.”

The pleasure built gradually, like honey dripping, each thrust dragged against your sensitive walls, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him on without rushing.

Joe’s pace remained steady, deep and loving. 

Sweat began to sheen on his skin, mixing with yours where your bodies pressed together. The room filled with the quiet sounds of sex: soft moans, the gentle slap of skin, whispered names.

You rolled your hips up to meet him, changing the angle slightly, the new sensation made you both gasp and Joe buried his face in your neck, sucking lightly as he thrust a little harder, still controlled, still gentle.

“Close?” he asked, voice strained but warm.

“Getting there,” you breathed. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t, he reached between you, thumb finding your clit again, circling in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation pushed you higher, the coil in your belly tightening slowly, deliciously.

When you came the second time, it was deeper, more powerful.

 Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat, Joe kept moving through it, prolonging your pleasure, kissing you through the waves.

“I’m close too,” he panted against your mouth. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you whispered, holding him tight. “Fill me up, Joe. Want to feel you come.”

That was all it took, a few more deep, loving thrusts and he spilled inside you with a long, low moan of your name. 

You felt every pulse, every warm spurt, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself, his hips stuttered, then pressed deep, grinding as he rode out the aftershocks.

You held him close as he collapsed gently on top of you, careful not to crush you, his weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck.

 For several long minutes, neither of you moved, just basking in the afterglow, hearts slowing together.

Eventually, Joe lifted his head, smiling down at you with that boyish, lovesick grin that always melted you, he brushed damp hair from your forehead and kissed you softly.

“Best way to wake up,” he murmured.

You laughed quietly, tracing his jaw. “Agreed, though now I might need a nap.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “We can do that or round two after coffee. Your choice.”

“Both,” you decided, pulling him back down for another lazy kiss.

He stayed inside you for a while longer, softening gradually, neither of you in any hurry to separate. 

His hands stroked your sides, your thighs, every touch affectionate and reverent and you talked in low voices, about nothing and everything. Plans for the day (mostly staying in bed), how much you loved each other, silly memories from the week before.

Eventually, he pulled out carefully, a soft trickle of his release following. Joe reached for a warm cloth from the bedside table, cleaning you both gently, then he pulled you back into his arms, spooning you from behind this time, his chest to your back, one arm wrapped around you, hand resting possessively over your heart.

The sun climbed higher, but the morning remained lazy. 

You dozed lightly, waking occasionally to his kisses on your shoulder, his fingers tracing lazy hearts on your skin.

 When desire stirred again, it was the same slow burn.

This time you turned to face him, pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips. Joe’s hands settled on your waist, eyes full of wonder as you sank down onto him again, you rode him slowly, grinding in circles, hands braced on his chest and he watched you with pure adoration, thumbs brushing your nipples through your shirt before pulling it off so he could touch skin to skin.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, sitting up to kiss your breasts, sucking gently on one nipple while his hands guided your hips.

 “Ride me just like that. Take what you need.”

You did, moving in that same unhurried rhythm. 

The angle let him hit even deeper, and the intimacy of face-to-face made it even more loving. You kissed constantly, messy, open-mouthed kisses filled with moans and whispers of forever.

When you came again, you cried out softly into his mouth, body trembling and he followed soon after, holding you tight as he filled you once more.

Afterward, you collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, laughing breathlessly at how perfectly content you both felt. 

The sheets were warm and rumpled, the room smelling of sex and love and morning light.

Joe’s hands never strayed far from your body, always caressing, always reminding you how cherished you were. Between words, more kisses, more slow caresses that inevitably led to him sliding into you again from behind while spooning, or you taking him in your mouth for long, lazy minutes while he stroked your hair and praised you.

By the time the clock showed noon, you’d lost count of how many times you’d come together. Your bodies were sated, pleasantly sore in the best way, skin marked with faint love bites and fingerprints. Joe pulled the duvet over you both, holding you against his chest.

“I could spend every morning like this,” he said, voice soft with contentment.

“Every morning,” you agreed, pressing a kiss over his heart.

The world outside could wait. 

Today was for lazy touches, loving words, and the kind of slow, intimate sex that reminded you why you’d chosen each other, again and again.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy, @deviousfaye , @watercolorskyy , @l33nlikeacholo , @ophirei @leahfaith @bluehexagon8 @unclejeezysblog @sweatydjoshoes

[fool4youxo]

Hii love ur tiktok trends fics with joe can u pls do more of the like chking if he grunts while picking reader up and asking for hugs randomly

Hug Please

A/n : Hi! thank you so much fro the req! I will do the checking if he grunts when picking you up later td!

summary : Joe keery is obsessed with his wife and everyone knows it and when you find a tiktok trend “asking my bf for hugs for no reason” you think it is the perfect one for you.

Warnings : None just absolute tooth rotting fluff 

the studio was cold, leather seat hugging you tightly as you sat outside the recording booth watching the window as the wind blows through and hits your face gently.

Spring time was your favourite, always has been but it was also the time when your husband tends to write and record. So you would often follow him to the studio and sit on your phone or draw while he did his thing.

Everyone in the studio had become used to you being there along with how obsessed Joe was with you. Constantly introducing you as his wife like the word was candy on his tongue. But still, nobody had a problem with it truthfully they thought it was sweet you were both so in love. 

Joe was finishing up a song when you came across a video on tiktok that made you smile, cheeks warm and a small giggle building in your chest at the couple in the video were so adorable together.

The girl in the video kept going up to her boyfriend randomly throughout the day asking for hugs with no reasoning to see if he would get annoyed or how he might react. 

Each time she did he would immediately hug her and smile while doing so, not even realising what she has doing at the beginning. And that video made you crave a hug with your own husband.

Maybe posting to this trend would be fun, who knows how quickly Joe would catch on?

as Joe finishes the take you set your phone down in a corner of the studio, hiding it slightly behind the plants before pressing record. Your eyes skimmed over the booth the ensure nobody saw what you were doing.

The sound of the booth door opening makes you turn your head around to see Joe stepping out, smiling when he sees you. 

without saying anything you walk up to him and stick out your arms, he doesn’t pause for a moment just grabs you and pulls you in. His arms wrapping around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck, pressing your face to his chest he kissed the top of your head gently before letting go. 

——————————

The second time you do this he has just finished talking to his producer, standing by the table hand propped up on it to support his weight as he leans. His producer is adjusting some of the EQ as you approach him.

walking closer you stand right next to him placing your head on his shoulder, once again he barely blinks. Wrapping his arms around you and leaning his head on yours.

————————————

20 minutes later your leaving the studio when you stop by some cafe, walking over to grab a table you place your bag down by a window seat before walking back up to Joe who was ordering you both a coffee. Your phone was inside your bag, only the camera sticking out at you walk up to him.

“hug please” 

Joe smiles at you and pulls you in tight pressing a kiss to your temple as he continues ordering, never letting go and you press your check into his chest. 

———————————

The day is almost over and he still hasn’t reacted or gotten suspicious once. So you needed to make it slightly more obvious. Joe was in the kitchen grabbing a snack while you sat in the bedroom. 

Covers cold against your skin you propped up your phone one last time before calling him over just for a hug.

“Baby! I want a hug please”

As soon as you say it you hear Joe walking towards you, the sound of the door opening before you see him walk in. He’s smiling, looking at you with nothing but love before he sits down next to you and pulls you towards him.

“what’s with all the hugs hm?” 

You look up at him and smile gently while shrugging, you needed to see where this would go next before revealing your phone.

“you okay baby?” 

He looks so concerned as you aren’t speaking just sitting there in his arms but before you can help it you start laughing, pressing your face into his chest.

“what-“

“I’ve been hugging you randomly all day! why did it take you this long!” 

“oh uhm well I liked it? I mean i’m not going to say no to hugging my gorgeous wife.”

this just makes you laugh harder as you move to grab your phone but Joe pulls you back down to him, hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls you back to his chest refusing to let go.

“hey! don’t stop” 

you giggle as you stop the video and press post.

Comments:

“HE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE”

“keeper”

“oh my god he’s so obsessed with you”

[thecruxchronicles]

Chapter 28- Potion

Summary: You and Joe have made it official and Joe soft launches the relationship during an interview.

Two Worlds One Choice Masterlist

I wake up to warmth — his chest under my cheek, his arm wrapped around my waist, his fingers tracing slow, sleepy lines along my hip like he’s been doing it for a while. The morning light is soft, golden, catching on the curve of his jaw.

“Good morning, babygirl.”

His voice is low and warm and so gentle it makes my stomach flip. I tilt my head up, and he’s already smiling at me — messy hair, soft eyes, the kind of expression that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.

He brushes his thumb across my cheek, the pad of it warm from sleep. “I’m so lucky you’re my girlfriend.”

My heart actually stutters. I don’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across my face.

He pulls me closer, his palm sliding up my spine in a slow, steady line, his nose brushing my temple. We’re tangled together, legs overlapping, bodies pressed close like neither of us is ready to let go.

I nuzzle my nose against his, answering him by kissing him softly once, twice.

“We’re too cheesy, but I’m pretty lucky too!” I murmur against his lips.

He grins, kissing me again — slow, warm, lingering.

“I like cheesy,” he says. “Especially with you.”

I sigh into his chest.

“I have to go to work today,” I mumble, already dreading it. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

He presses a kiss into my hair.

“I know,” he says softly. “I’m gonna be working too.”

I lift my head a little. “Yeah?”

He nods, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’ve got an online interview later. First one since the airport photos.”

My breath catches — not fear, just awareness. The world outside this room is waiting.

He sees it immediately, his thumb stroking my cheek.

“I wanted to talk to you about it before I go,” he says. “If they ask about us.”

I swallow, my fingers curling lightly at the back of his neck.

“What do you want to say?” I ask.

He exhales, honest and gentle.

“I don’t want to hide you,” he says. “But I don’t want to throw you into anything too fast. I want to protect what we have. It’s new. It’s ours.”

My chest softens. He’s not scared of being with me — he’s scared of exposing me.

I cup his jaw, my thumb brushing his cheek.

“I don’t want to hide,” I tell him. “I’m proud to be with you. It comes with the territory.”

He nods immediately, relief washing through his expression.

“I won’t say your name,” he promises. “I won’t talk about details. But I won’t pretend you don’t exist.”

Warmth spreads through me — steady, certain.

“Okay,” I whisper. “That’s perfect.”

He kisses me again, slow and sweet, his forehead resting against mine.

“I want to honor us,” he murmurs.

I smile, tucking myself back into his chest, letting his heartbeat steady mine.

“My boyfriend,” I say quietly.

He laughs softly, kissing the top of my head.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend.”

And the morning settles around us — warm, safe, and full of the kind of certainty that makes everything else feel easy.

Leaving him feels like ripping Velcro apart.

I stand in the doorway of my bedroom, bag slung over my shoulder, staring at him sprawled across my sheets like he belongs there — because he does. His hair is a mess, his eyes are soft, and he gives me that sleepy, crooked smile that makes my knees feel unreliable.

“Have a good day, babe,” he murmurs, voice low and warm.

I lean down to kiss him — slow, lingering, the kind of kiss that makes it physically painful to pull away. His hand slides up my back, holding me there for a second longer, like he’s trying to memorize the moment too.

Walking out the door feels wrong.

Like I’m leaving something behind that I’m supposed to keep close.

The whole drive to work, I’m buzzing. Floating.

Joe is my boyfriend.

My boyfriend.

I keep repeating it in my head like a mantra, like if I say it enough times it’ll feel real.

It doesn’t.

It feels unreal in the best way.

At my desk, I’m useless. I reread the same email four times. I type half a sentence and forget what I was writing. My mind keeps drifting back to him in my bed, the warmth of his hands, everything about him.

I’m smiling at my computer like a lunatic when it hits me.

Michaela.

Oh god.

I have to tell Michaela.

She already met him — she already knows something was happening — but she’s going to combust when she hears it’s official.

I find her in the break room, leaning against the counter, scrolling on her phone while eating chips instead of the salad she swore she packed.

She looks up, squints, and immediately points at me.

“What is that face?” she demands. “Why do you look like you just got proposed to or won the lottery or had really good—”

“Michaela,” I hiss, laughing. “Stop.”

She drops her chips. “Oh my god. You’re smiling. Like… smiling smiling. Tell me right now.”

I sit across from her, heart pounding, and say it quietly, like it’s fragile.

“Joe and I… we’re together. Officially.”

She freezes.

Then she SCREAMS — not loud enough to get us fired, but loud enough that someone in the hallway pauses.

“NO. NO. I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.” She launches herself at me, hugging me so hard I choke. “I TOLD YOU HE WAS GOOD FOR YOU. I TOLD YOU. I AM A GENIUS.”

I’m laughing, breathless. “Michaela—”

She pulls back, gripping my shoulders. “I’m so happy for you. Like genuinely. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy. And remember he better treat you right or I will fight him. I don’t care that he’s famous.”

My chest warms. “He treats me really well.”

She squeals again. “Oh my god, I met him. I met your famous boyfriend. I met Joe Keery before the internet even knew. I’m basically royalty.”

I shove her shoulder. “Stop. And please — keep it quiet. I don’t want my life to explode quite yet.”

She zips her lips dramatically. “I swear. I won’t say a word. But I’m dying inside.”

I laugh, shaking my head — and then I remember.

“Oh — his interview is today,” I say, checking the time. “It’s live. At noon.”

Michaela gasps. “It’s noon.”

We both scramble for our phones like we’re trying to disarm a bomb.

The livestream loads.

And there he is.

In my second bedroom — my second bedroom — hair styled, wearing the soft sweater I watched him pull over his head this morning. He looks calm, professional, but I can see the little tells: the way he taps his thumb against his knee, the way he shifts his shoulders before answering a question.

My heart squeezes.

The interviewer starts with the usual stuff, the new project, the writing process, the band, and the upcoming tour.

He’s charming, thoughtful, funny — the version of him the world gets to see.

I’m watching the little things—the way he smiles when he talks about music, the way he pushes his hair back without thinking, the way his eyes drift off‑screen like his mind has slipped somewhere else, maybe toward someone else, and I feel every tiny shift like it means more than he’ll ever say out loud.

Then the interviewer shifts, smiling like he’s about to stir the pot.

Michaela grips my arm like she’s bracing for impact.

“So, Joe… the internet’s been buzzing lately.”

Michaela inhales sharply.

Joe gives a polite, patient smile. “Yeah, I’ve seen some of that.”

The interviewer laughs. “You were spotted at the airport with someone. And at a restaurant with possibly the same someone? People are curious.”

Joe nods, still calm. “Yeah, I figured.”

“So,” the interviewer leans in, “are you seeing anyone?”

Joe’s smile softens — that shy, warm one he only uses when he’s talking about something that matters.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m seeing someone.”

My breath catches.

He continues, voice gentle but steady:

“She’s… wonderful. Really wonderful.”

Michaela slaps my arm repeatedly. “THAT’S YOU. THAT’S YOU. OH MY GOD.”

But the interviewer isn’t done.

“That’s exciting,” he says. “Is she someone in the industry?”

Joe shakes his head, still smiling. “No. She’s not in the industry.”

“Someone you’ve known a long time?”

He laughs softly. “Long enough.”

The interviewer tries again, friendly but fishing.

“So how serious is this? Should fans be preparing for heartbreak?”

Joe laughs — too fast, too flustered, like he didn’t expect the question to come back around.

He rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting off‑camera for a second.

“Heartbroken? Over me?” he says, half‑laughing. “No way. I’m not— I mean, come on.”

The interviewer grins, pouncing gently.

“Well yes, Joe. You. Does that mean it’s casual?”

Joe’s face goes pink and he shakes his head immediately — not defensive, just sure.

“Definitely not casual.”

Michaela is vibrating beside me.

The interviewer grins. “But you’re keeping her identity private?”

“For now,” Joe says. “I want to protect her. And us. But I’m really happy.”

The interviewer softens, smiling.

“Well… she’s a very lucky girl.”

Joe’s eyes warm, and he gives a small, sincere nod.

“Thank you,” he says. “But I’m the lucky one.”

I swear my heart stops.

He doesn’t say my name.

He doesn’t overshare.

He doesn’t hide me.

He honors us like he said he would.

And I’ve never felt so warm in my life.

For a second, Michaela and I just stare at the screen — the livestream ending, the chat exploding, the room suddenly too quiet.

Then Michaela lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a squeal, grabs my arm with both hands, and shakes me like she’s trying to rattle the truth loose.

“OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. HE LOVES YOU. HE LOVES YOU. HE LOVES YOU.”

I’m laughing and crying at the same time. “Michaela—”

She doesn’t let me finish. She launches herself at me, arms around my neck, hugging me so tight I squeak.

“I KNEW IT,” she screams into my shoulder. “I KNEW HE WAS A GOOD MAN. I KNEW HE WASN’T JUST SOME PRETTY FACE. I COULD FEEL IT IN MY SOUL.”

I’m wheezing. “You met him for like five minutes.”

She pulls back, eyes wild. “AND MY SOUL WAS CORRECT.”

I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.

She grabs my hands, squeezing them like she’s about to propose.

“Do you understand,” she says breathlessly, “that this man just went on a LIVE interview and basically said he’s obsessed with you without saying he’s obsessed with you?”

My face burns. “He didn’t say that.”

She throws her head back dramatically. “HE SAID HE’S THE LUCKY ONE. Y/N. Y/N. DO YOU KNOW HOW MEN TALK? THAT IS A LOVE CONFESSION IN MAN LANGUAGE.”

I bury my face in my hands, but I’m smiling so hard it hurts.

She hugs me again, softer this time, her voice warm against my ear.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispers. “You deserve someone who looks at you the way he does. He’s a good man. A really good man.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah,” I whisper. “He is.”

She pulls back, wiping under her eyes like she’s the one getting emotional. “And you’re glowing. Like actually glowing. I hate you.”

I laugh, nudging her shoulder. “Shut up.”

She sighs dramatically, but she’s smiling. “Fine.”

We hug again — tight, warm, grounding — and for a moment I feel everything at once: the joy, the disbelief, the comfort of being seen by someone who knows me better than anyone.

Because for the first time, it feels real.

Not just between me and him — but in the world.

And Michaela’s joy makes it even sweeter.

By the time I pull into my driveway, the last of the afternoon light sliding across the hood of my car, my heart is already racing.

All day, I’ve been replaying the interview in my head — his voice, his smile, the way he said “I’m the lucky one.”

Every time I think about it, something warm unfurls low in my chest, like I’m holding a secret that keeps getting brighter.

I unlock the door, step inside—

And he’s there.

Standing in my kitchen, barefoot, hair a little messy from running his hands through it, wearing the same sweater from the interview. He looks up the second he hears me, and his whole face softens.

Something inside me goes still — not frozen, just settling, like my whole body recognizes him before my mind catches up.

“Hi,” he says, voice low, warm, like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

I drop my bag without even thinking. “Hi.”

He crosses the room in three long steps, and before I can say anything else, his arms are around me — tight, full‑body, like he’s pulling me back into something he’s been missing. I melt into him instantly, my fingers curling lightly into the fabric at his side instead of just resting there, my face pressing into his chest.

He smells faintly like my laundry detergent and the coffee he must’ve made while waiting — familiar in a way that hits deeper than I expect.

“I missed you,” he murmurs into my hair.

My throat tightens. “I missed you too.”

We end up on the couch, my legs draped over his, his arm around my shoulders, my head tucked under his chin. His fingers trace slow, absent‑minded circles on my arm — the kind that make my whole body feel warm and settled.

For a minute, neither of us says anything.

It’s just breathing, and warmth, and the quiet hum of being close again.

Then he exhales, a soft, nervous little sound.

“So…” I murmur, “I saw the interview.”

“You watched the whole thing?” He says nervously.

I tilt my head up, meeting his eyes. “Of course I did.”

He swallows, his thumb brushing my shoulder. “And you’re okay? With what I said?”

I shift closer, my hand sliding up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm.

“You were perfect,” I say softly. “You didn’t hide me. You didn’t throw me to the wolves. You just… talked about me like I mattered.”

His eyes soften — warm, relieved, a little overwhelmed.

“You do matter,” he says quietly. “A lot.”

My chest tightens in that sweet, aching way.

I nuzzle my nose against his jaw, and he smiles, leaning into the touch.

“I liked the ‘long enough’ part,” I tease gently.

He laughs, low and warm. “Yeah? Thought you might.”

“And the ‘definitely not casual.’”

He groans softly, burying his face in my neck for a second. “I meant that. I didn’t want there to be any confusion.”

I run my fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. “There wasn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand sliding to my waist, thumb brushing the fabric of my shirt.

“And the lucky part?” he asks, voice softer now. “Was that… okay?”

I feel my face heat, but I nod. “More than okay.”

He smiles — that shy, warm, heart‑melting smile — and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I didn’t want to say too much,” he murmurs. “But I wanted people to know I’m… happy. Really happy.”

I kiss him, slow and lingering, my fingers curling into the collar of his sweater.

“I’m happy too,” I whisper against his lips.

He pulls me closer, his hand sliding up my back, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We settle again, my head on his chest, his chin resting on my hair, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm.

He smiles — small, warm, a little shy. “Matt reached out.”

My eyebrows lift. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And… all the guys texted too. Just checking in. Saying the interview went well.”

He pauses, thumb brushing my shoulder. “But Matt specifically said to tell you ‘good job.’”

I blink. “Good job?”

He laughs softly. “His words. Not mine.”

I groan into his chest. “Oh my god.”

“He also,” Joe adds, eyes sparkling, “told me to stop being dumb and be happy.”

I look up at him, and he’s already looking at me — soft, warm, a little embarrassed.

“I can’t say he’s wrong.” I smirk mischievously.

He nods, brushing his nose against my forehead. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.” He lets out a soft laugh.

My chest warms, and I kiss him — soft, slow, grateful. His hand slides up my back, holding me close, and for a moment we just breathe together.

Then my stomach growls.

Loudly.

Joe pulls back, laughing. “Okay. That was violent.”

I shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He stands, offering me his hand. “Come on. Let’s make dinner before you pass out on me.”

I take his hand, letting him pull me up. “What are we making?”

He grins. “Whatever you want. I’m just here to chop things and look pretty.”

I laugh, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You’re doing great so far.”

We move around the kitchen bumping hips, brushing hands, stealing little touches. He stands behind me at one point, arms around my waist, chin on my shoulder as I stir something on the stove.

“You smell good,” he murmurs.

I smile. “You said that this morning.”

“I meant it both times.”

We open a bottle of wine, nothing fancy, and drink it while we cook. He keeps reaching out to tap his fingers lightly against my wrist, or rest his hand on my hip, or kiss the top of my head like he can’t help it.

And I keep leaning into him, brushing his arm, hooking my fingers briefly into his belt loop when I pass behind him, letting myself be close.

It feels easy.

It feels right.

It feels like something we’ve been doing forever.

After dinner, we end up back on the couch, legs tangled, my head on his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing easing something tight inside me. His fingers trace slow circles on my arm again — the kind that make my whole body feel settled.

The wine makes everything warm and soft around the edges.

“You tired?” he whispers.

“A little.”

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling a blanket over us and tucking me closer.

I curl into him, my hand resting just below his collarbone, feeling the quiet thrum of his heartbeat. He kisses the top of my head, slow and lingering, like he’s sealing something in place.

His breathing evens out first; steady, warm, comforting.

I fall asleep a few minutes later, wrapped in his arms, the quiet hum of the house around us, the soft weight of his hand on my back.

And for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep feeling completely, utterly safe.

Because this is real.

This is ours.

And tonight, it feels like the whole world finally knows it too.

the unhinged souls suffering with me:

@bdllvr

@eller41

@moonlesswish

@stoneyggirl2

@beth-mirrorball

@keerygirlie98

@nowandajenn

want in? scream in my inbox!

[fool4youxo]

I think we did it wrong

Summary: Trying out a trend you saw on TikTok with your husband Joe Keery 

Warnings : NONE just pure fluff

The sound of Joe strumming his guitar echoed through the house as the sun shone in from the windows hitting your face like it was meant to be there. 

Earlier today you had been scrolling through TikTok when you came across a trend. “Kissing my boyfriend to see if he melts into it” and as soon as you saw this you knew it was made for you and Joe. 

As you set your phone down In the kitchen, hiding it behind some snacks you pressed record and took a step back to stand in the middle of the kitchen.

“Joe!” You called out quickly to your husband. 

As soon as his name left your mouth you heard the strumming stop and the low sound of the bedroom door opening before your husband walked out and towards you with a smile. 

“Hi baby what’s up?” He looks at you with nothing but pure love as you stand there looking up at him. 

“Put your arms out” You state simply, not wanting to give away that you would just be kissing him. 

Joe pauses, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before he slowly raises his arms letting them stick out into the air. As you slowly walk closer he flinches and tries to move away.

“Dont tickle me” He tries but you just look at him seriously and he immediately drops it. 

Walking forwards you wrap your arms around your neck and kiss him softly. Joe freezes for a moment, confused before kissing you back with more intensity, his arms dropping around your waist as he pulls you against him. 

After a moment you pull away smiling and Joe just looks at you in amazement. 

Giggling you grab your phone from the counter and Joe looks at you stunned. 

“Was that on camera? Send it to me” He says quickly still standing there in the middle of the kitchen. 

“It was a trend baby” You smile, the camera still running. 

“Oh I think we did it wrong lets do it again”

Before you can respond Joe pulls you into him and kisses you again, harder this time. 

Comments: 

“Oh my god this is so cute!” 

“The way he just smiled at her when he walked in” 

“We did it wrong lets do it again’ is KILLING me” 

[djolemodel]

hiii!! i love your blog ! just wandered if you could do something where joe has maybe like a really hard time on a job while filming and reader is working away but she sensed he wasn’t okay while facetiming even though he tries to hide it and then she decided to come surprise him and stay with him a couple days to make him feel better and relax!

LAST-MINUTE DRIVE

Joe Keery x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

NIA'S NOTES: Thank you for this request!!! I have ended up burnt after today, I feel like a radiator right now 💔 Enjoy my lovelies!!

It has been too quiet in your apartment, other than Joe’s soft voice coming through the phone every night before you went to sleep. For the past few weeks, you have been busying yourself, leaving items around the house so that you had an excuse to clean it later, looking at every item in each aisle that you knew you weren’t going to buy, and extending your daily routine so that you were never curled up on the sofa, staring blankly at the wall in front of you.

With Joe being a three-hour drive away from you for filming, it reminded you of how much time you spend with him. Being away from him was an unfamiliar feeling, one that you weren’t used to, and never want to be used to. Most of the time, you will spend a few hours apart if you’re out shopping or if you’re running an errand. It wasn’t that you were necessarily attached by the hip, because you were both understanding that you have things to do, but time spent together is crucial, especially as he could be pulled to film at any time.

Even with him being busy filming, he still made time to call you every night without fail. He tried to check in throughout the day, but with his limited breaks, you get a response every few hours, so the conversation never flows. Which is why he makes it up with a phone call, letting you ramble on about your day, or a dream you had the night before, and he would do the same.

As soon as you finish up brushing your teeth, you turn the light off and head into your bedroom, slipping under the covers. Getting into the bed to an empty space beside you every night was something that you dreaded. You would spend the whole day making sure that you were always doing something, only to come back to the reason why you were trying to make yourself busy in the first place.

Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, and you scramble to pick it up, swiping right to accept the phone call. The quality is slightly fuzzy for a moment before he settles his phone down on the table, and you watch as a lazy grin twitches at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, baby.” He says, and you can already hear the exhaustion in his tone, the way he still sounds breathless, even when he’s sat down.

“Hey.” You say with a sweet smile, turning the lamp on beside you and propping your phone up so that he can see you. “How has your day been? You look so exhausted.”

He sighs, his lips pressing together to form a line. “It’s been the same as usual, retaking the same scene ten times, mind blanking in the middle of saying a line. I’ve honestly just been counting down the hours until I got to speak to you. I’m okay though, I’m used to it.” He says, trailing off at the end. “How has your day been, angel?” He asks.

You couldn’t deny how drained he looked, and you knew that he wouldn’t admit it to you, because he always wanted to appear strong for you, even though you have told him countless times that he can be open with you. Sometimes he will slip, and suddenly the words will be pouring from his lips, but for his sake, he tried to hide that from you.

“I’ve been very productive today. I haven’t had the chance to sit down until I got into bed, which was five minutes ago. I bought us another storage unit, and I tried to build it, but I’m going to wait till you get back from filming because it’s a little wonky.” You laugh, propping your head up with your hand.

“Did you follow the instructions?” He grins.

“Yes. Well, partially. They didn’t make sense towards the end, so I just guessed what I needed to do.” You say, pulling a laugh from him.

“I’ll finish it off for you when I get back. You need to make sure you’re giving yourself time to relax though, baby.” He whispers.

Part of you wishes that he could listen to his own words, which is something that he never does. He puts so much care into you, that he forgets he should do that for himself too. No matter how many times you tell him to slow down, he continues to overwork himself until he’s completely drained.

You hum, watching as his eyes close for a few seconds too long when he blinks. “So do you, baby.”

“You worry too much about me. I’m okay. Just have my days on set, that’s all.” He says with a sweet smile, though you don’t believe him for a moment.

A frustrated huff leaves your mouth, and you shake your head. “You’ll be back home soon.”

“That’s exactly what’s keeping me going.” He mutters, glancing down at his hands.

“Think you need to get some rest, baby. I’m not going to keep you up if you’re getting tired.” You say, bringing your phone closer to you.

He knows he can’t disagree with you, he’s just glad you said it for him. “I’m going to grab a snack before I get myself to sleep. Didn’t get any breaks today with the number of times we had to spend working on a singular scene.”

The concern starts to grow inside of you, and you can tell this is a result of him overworking himself. “That sounds like a good plan. Make yourself a big meal, baby. Let me know how it was tomorrow. Please get some rest.” You sigh.

He nods, shifting in his chair and standing up, taking his phone with him to the counter. “I love you.” He whispers, and you notice the slight crack in his mood.

“I love you, Joe. Sleep well.” You whisper.

He flashes you a warm grin before ending the call, and the silence that follows has the guilt consuming you immediately. You stare at the phone for a while, regretting even thinking about ending the phone call. Even though you knew he needed to rest, it was obvious that he just wanted to speak to you, because he’s made it clear it’s the only good part about his day, especially after filming.

No matter how hard you tried to get yourself to sleep, the exhausted look on his face and the way he was speaking breathlessly to you was completely engraved into your mind every time your eyes closed. The thought alone of him being so stressed and exhausted with filming without anyone being there with him to guide him through was something you shouldn’t have to think about.

Your feet meet the carpet, and you pad your feet along the floor, opening the wardrobe to take out some suitable clothes. You slip a dark blue hoodie on and a pair of joggers before making your way out of the bedroom, grabbing your keys and heading out the door. It’s eight o’clock at night, and usually you’d be sound asleep, but leaving Joe on his own when he’s clearly overworking himself was something you’d never dream of leaving him to do.

You slip into your car, turning the heating on before reversing out of your parking space. Every few minutes, you glanced down at the directions app to check how long you had until you arrived, and it was painfully dragging. A quiet playlist played in the background, but it did nothing to clear your thoughts. You didn’t need to ask Joe to come see him, because you knew that was exactly what he wanted, and you couldn’t stand another day without him.

After what felt like the longest drive, you park the car to the closest parking space near the entrance to his hotel. You turn the playlist off and step out the car, walking through the doors and up the stairs. You walk down the hall, checking each number beside the door before stopping at number 35, gently knocking on the door.

The door slowly opens after a few minutes, and you’re met with a sleepy look on Joe’s face, his hair slightly damp. He’s barely registered you’re standing in front of him before your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close. He blinks at you and shuffles backwards, making room to close the door.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up or disturbed you from doing something.” You whisper, slowly lifting your head up.

“Holy shit.” Is all that he can manage out, and his hands slip into your hair, almost like he’s checking that you’re in front of him.

A small laugh leaves your mouth, and you brush your thumb over his cheek. “Surprise.”

“You’re insane. You drove here?” He asks, letting his forehead drop to yours.

“All three hours.” You nod.

“This is exactly what I needed.” He mumbles, letting the tension from his shoulders drop.

“I wasn’t going to let you deal with the stress on your own.” You whisper, gently taking his hand and walking through the room, sliding under the covers and making room for him.

Joe slips under the covers, bringing his arms around you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, letting out a soft hum. “You’ve got no idea how good this feels. I feel like I’ve been drowning with all the filming.”

“You shouldn’t feel like that, baby. Whether you’re overworking yourself or the people on set are, you shouldn’t be feeling stressed, at least not this stressed. It’s not normal.” You sigh.

“It feels normal.” He mutters.

“Well, it shouldn’t. Either way, I couldn’t last another day without you. That drive was so worth it, even though I feel like my feet are going to fall off.” You laugh breathlessly.

“Did you not take a stop?” He asks.

“Nope. It’s late enough, and I didn’t want to waste any more time.” You whisper.

“You do so much for me, baby. Thank you.” He whispers, resting his head against your neck, exhaling.

“My errands can wait. You can’t.” You say, slipping your hand through his damn hair.

“If you want me to relax, you need to as well.” He says, gently resting his hand on your lower back.

“Deal.” You mumble. “Please get some sleep now, I’ve already kept you up longer than necessary.”

A lazy grin twitches at his lips. “So worth it now that you’re here.”

“Sleep.” You repeat.

He hums. “I love you.”

“I love you. Now rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” You whisper.

He falls asleep in record time with his body completely pressed against yours. His breaths slow down, not as heavy as they were when you called him hours ago. You weren’t sure how long you were going to stay with him for, but you wanted to push that thought to the back of your mind, because he needed you.

Thank you for reading!! 💕 Liking and reblogging is very much appreciated!! 💕💕 I'm going to try write two requests tomorrow because I'm so slow with this

[csi-junkie]

the glasses || joe keery x gn!reader

summary: complimenting Joe’s glasses in the middle of the night. c.w: none just fluff, no use of y/n, ‘just’ friends, flirting. divider credit: @saradika-graphics. w.c: 1.6k

You, along with some of your friends decided to go on a short trip for a few days, renting a house because it made the most sense. It’s the first night and you’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour, unable to relax enough to fall sleep.

You huff pulling the sheets off your body and sit up. Maybe some water or tea would help, you’d try anything at this point.

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice a small warm glow casting across the living room. Nestled into the side of the worn couch beside a lamp is Joe reading a book.

“Hey.” You whisper, in an attempt to not startle him. He jumps slightly anyway, shoulders tensing up but quickly relaxing upon recognizing your voice.

It still doesn’t stop guilt from bubbling up in your chest for catching him off guard. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re okay.” He soothes, taking a deep breath, and looking up from the book resting in his lap. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to still be awake.”

You nod while crossing over to the kitchen. You retrieve a mug and fill it up with water before placing it in the microwave.

The hum of the machine is the only sound in the otherwise quiet house as neither of you speak.

He closes his book and stands up, slipper covered feet paddling softly against the hardwood floor towards the kitchen. It creaks occasionally under his weight.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He hints, noticing how your eyelids droop slightly.

You nod, letting out a gentle sigh. “I always have a hard time falling asleep the first night in a new place.”

Your gaze flickers to the microwave, watching as the numbers count down steadily.

“Me too.” He mutters, leaning against the counter across from you. His hands settling in the pockets of his pajama pants.

After the microwave beeps, you retrieve your mug and drop a tea bag in to steep.

“Do you want any?” You offer, referring to your drink.

“That sounds nice.” He agrees, pushing off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you.

You turn around, reaching for another mug when he walks up beside you. His body is so close that you notice the gentle way his chest rises and falls with each breath. If you moved, your back would certainly brush against his chest.

“It’s okay.” Joe soothes, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth while a hand rests on the cabinet door above yours. “I got it.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form words while taking a step to the side.

Maybe the heat you feel blossoming in your chest is coming from the steam rolling off your drink. It hits your cheeks whilst you blow on the hot liquid.

Your full attention is on him despite your best efforts to look away. His hair is disheveled, flat in some areas while sticking up in others - evidence that he’s been tossing and turning too.

But there’s something different about him.

You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Then it dawns on you, the answer is perched atop the bridge of his nose.

He’s wearing glasses.

Even in the dim light, you can tell the frames are a warm brown and have soft, rounded edges.

“l didn’t know that you wore glasses.” You remark shyly, attempting to take a sip of your still too hot tea.

“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes finding yours while the microwave continues to hum. “I don’t really like wearing them.”

“Why?” You wonder, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

He shrugs, stopping the microwave a few seconds early and dropping the tea bag in. “I don’t know, just don’t feel like myself I guess.”

“Well, I think they look good.” You reason, focusing on the mug cradled between your hands. “You shouldn’t worry.”

Your eyes flicker up to find him already looking at you. Huge mistake.

“You think so?” Joe’s eyes widen slightly, unable to focus his attention anywhere but you. His tea forgotten on the counter.

You hum in agreement, maintaining the distance between you two. But the way he’s looking at you is making it very hard to settle your rapid heartbeat.

The gleam in his eyes and slight, playful grin causes a warmth to spread throughout your entire chest.

“You still look like yourself.” You admit, bringing the mug to your lips to take another sip. “Just softer around the edges.”

He squints at you, leaning forward. “What do you mean. . .softer around the edges?”

“I don’t know.” You drag out, running a hand across you face before continuing. “They’re sweet, have a cozy feeling to them.”

“You saying that I’m sweet?” He smirks, dropping a tea bag in his mug to steep.

He then mirrors your position of leaning your hips against the counter behind you. His arm could easily brush against yours.

“The glasses.” You clarify, raising your eyebrows and turning your face towards him.

Joe returns your gaze before teasing. “Mhm, right.” Rolling his eyes. “The glasses.”

He’s unable to hide the cheeky smile playing on his lips - not convinced in the slightest.

A grin threatens to spread across your face as your shake your head. It’s nearly impossible to pretend that he’s not having an effect on you.

“I’m not giving you any more compliments. Don’t want them going to your head.” You tease, finally able to tear your gaze away from him.

“Oh come on.” He taunts playfully, tilting his head to one side and nudging his shoulder against yours.

“Nope.” You refuse firmly, body staying rigid. “You’ve lost the privilege.”

However, his big, round doe eyes are staring back at you, making it exceedingly diffcult to stand your ground. You can feel it crumbling more and more beneath your feet with every bat of his eyelashes.

He leans his head down slightly, pleading. “Let me earn it back.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “Depends.”

“On what?” He wonders, raising his mug up to take a sip. His eyes peek over the rim, still focused on you.

The words fly out of your mouth before you can second guess them. “How nice you are to me.”

He furrows his brow, sitting the mug down beside him. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Mm-mm, you’re mean.” You quickly deny, pursing your lips. “Standing here looking at me with those eyes, just expecting me to give in.”

He blinks but doesn’t miss a beat, crooking his head to the side. “You like my eyes?”

Shit

“No.” You deny too quickly, trying hard to keep your composure. Your eyes flicker away, pretending not to notice the way he’s looking at you.

But Joe watches as you struggle to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You did it again.” He teases, crossing his arms and acting all smug. “You’re not very good at the this.”

“Not good at what?” You bite, narrowing your eyes up at him.

“Pretending you don’t care.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders. His lips are pursued, unable to hide how much he’s enjoying this.

“You can’t help but give yourself away.” He adds, his voice beginning to soften.

“You’re being mean again.” You insist, elbowing him in the arm as punishment.

“No. . .” He clarifies, uncrossing his arms in an act of surrender. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

There he goes again being all sweet after teasing you relentlessly. His voice settling into the smooth, tender tone that it always does when talking to you. He knows that it will work. You have a soft spot for him that you can’t hide.

So instead of disagreeing, you hum, urging him to continue.

He raises his eyebrows before explaining with ease. “Honest that. . .you think I’m sweet and like my eyes.”

“Say I were to admit that.” You pause, keeping him on his toes. “What would you think?”

He inhales, still staring deeply into your eyes. “I’d be relieved. I think the same things about you.”

Your eyes widen slightly, unable to believe what’s happening. “So what? We like things about each other. We’re friends.”

Now you’re in trouble because you can’t lie to him - he knows your tells.

“I think we both know that it’s more than that.” Joe reasons, tilting his head again, laying all his cards out on the table.

Your mouth parts slightly but any retort that you could have come up with dies in your throat because his eyes say a million words. The truth.

One that you didn’t expect to face at 1 o’clock in the morning in a kitchen that’s not yours or his all because you complimented his glasses.

Your feelings for him developed so gradually that you can’t even remember when they started. A shared look here, a lingering touch there. Until suddenly your heart raced anytime he walked in the room, you couldn’t hold eye contact anymore, and you felt lightheaded anytime that he did something sweet for you.

“It’s late.” You reason, reaching for your mug to gulp down the rest of your now cold tea. “We should go to bed.”

He parts his lips to protest but no words come out. Opting instead to let you end the moment, watching closely as you load your empty mug into the dishwater.

You murmur goodnight to him and pretend that you aren’t about to lay awake thinking about what he said.

But when you come downstairs the next morning for breakfast, he’s still wearing his glasses.

a/n: this the second fic i’ve written about glasses, i think have a kink lol. but the way my breathe hitches at the mention of glasses and joe in the same sentence, pathetic

[judysxnd]

new home screen

Joe Keery x reader

summary: you’re out with a friend and come home to the sweetest thing ever.

In this, reader is married to Joe and they have a two year old daughter. I chose a random name for her.

————————————————————

Today was your day off. You’ve been working a lot lately but it finally paying off because now, it’s more than a day off, it’s a little vacation. You’re back home with your husband and daughter, enjoying the sunshine and the heat that goes with it.

You usually sleep in during those days, but this morning you were supposed to meet a friend you haven’t seen in a while, so you got up around 8am. Considering you were up late last night, the alarm ringing made the awakening a little rough. Joe didn’t have to get up since your little baby girl wouldn’t be awake before nine, but he couldn’t help it.

You were both sitting outside enjoying the warmth before it got too hot to be there. You drank a little coffee, not too much because you didn’t know what you would be doing with your friend. Joe was still half asleep next to you, taking big sips of his coffee, yawning from time to time. You couldn’t but chuckle. “What?” You shook your head. “Nothing, you’re just all cute trying to wake up” “you’re making fun of me” you faked being offended. “How dare you say that?” You both laughed. “You should have stayed asleep, you would have had at least an extra hour of sleep” “I prefer being with you, I can nap later”

You smiled. This man preferred to wake up early to be with you instead of sleeping in and wait to see you later this afternoon. That’s why he’s your husband. “You know I’m coming home later right? I’m not leaving forever” you joked. “You’re upset I wanted to spend time with my wife?” You got chills. You never get used to him (or anyone else) calling you like that. You’ve been together for six years, married for three, and now have a beautiful two-year-old daughter.

Before you could answer, your phone rang. Your friend was ready to pick you up, she was at the gate. “My taxi’s here” you stood up. “I hope Ivy won’t bother you too much for her nap this afternoon” “yeah, yesterday was tough” “it’s worst because I won’t be here, you know how she hates when she doesn’t see me when I’m supposed to be here” “we’ve been telling her for the past two days, I hope it works” you looked at each other, knowing it won’t.

You messed with Joe’s hair for a sec, making him moan a little, a sound barely noticeable. You looked at him intensely, before bending over to kiss him passionately. You both looked at each other. “Okay, definitely need to go or I won’t be able to” you bit your lip. Joe smirked. “Love you!” You said as you entered back in the house. “Love you too!” you heard from outside. You put your coffee cup in the sink, grabbed your purse and in matter of seconds you were in your friend’s car.

Around 9:30am you were already in town, wandering from coffee shops to parks to other shops before having lunch in a nice restaurant. You were having fun, losing track of time, gossiping. It’s been a while you haven’t seen your friend so you both had lots of things to catch up on. The afternoon was cut short, your friend had an appointment at 3:30pm, so she had to drop you back home before 3pm. Also, it was really hot now, and all you wanted to do was to go back home, where you have the AC on.

You arrived home at 2:45pm approximately. As you entered the house, you didn’t hear a thing. The entire place was quiet. You assumed it would be since Ivy would be napping at that time. Joe would either be in the studio, or reading or napping too. You took off your shoes and washed your hand before heading to the studio to check if he was there: empty. So he’s upstairs in the bedroom.

You carefully walked upstairs, making sure not to make too much noise since Ivy has a very light sleep in the afternoon. You opened your bedroom door hoping to find Joe on the bed, but you didn’t expect to see Ivy with him. You guessed nap time didn’t go as planned. It’s rare when she sleeps with either one of you. But the view was so beautiful your heart skipped a beat. Joe was sleeping on his left side, Ivy curled up in his arms. Thank god you had your phone in hand, because you snapped a picture that would now be your new Home Screen.

You quietly went into the bathroom to change before heading back downstairs. Maybe you woke Joe up but not even ten minutes later, you heard him walk down the stairs too. You were sitting on the couch, looking at some texts you had when he appeared in the living room, still with messy hair and puffy eyes. You immediately smiled. “Hey there.. sleepy head” “hey” he said before falling on the couch, adjusting so that his head was on your lap. “You did get to nap” you said, playing with his hair. “Not alone” “she didn’t want to sleep huh?” “Yeah. It was the only way she would sleep” “she wasn’t tired? When did she wake up?” “She was very tired, we were outside all morning. Never ran so much in my entire life”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “She woke up around 9am, maybe 9:15, can’t remember. But she wanted to see you before napping” you sighed “yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. I was gone for a while, so now she does that” he nodded. “and this summer it’ll be because of me” you looked at him “we’ll manage, plus we’ll come to see you” he looked up at you, smiling.

“that’s the life we have” “yeah.. So, how was your day? Did you have fun?” “Yeaaaah, we shopped a bit, mostly walked around in town, talked a lot, it was cool. I missed her” “yeah? That’s cool” “she says hi also” “it’s too late now but I also say hi” you chuckled. “What did you buy? Some fun stuff?” You smirked “oh I bought some things you’re gonna like” he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “I want to see” “you’ll seen soon enough” “I want to see now” “not now, you’re still half asleep and I need to wash everything first, so now will be in tomorrow, if I want to” “I’m very much awake now and I can’t still see it before you wash it”

“After, first I want to show you my new Home Screen” “you changed your picture of the three of us?” Joe asked. He sounded a bit sad. “It’s my favorite picture” “me too, but I have a new favorite” you turned your phone to show him the photo you just took twenty minutes ago. Him sleeping with Ivy in your bed. “W-wait, that was now?” “Yeah, I was looking for you. When I saw you both together I melted” “she’s beautiful” “you’re both beautiful” you looked at each other. You were still playing with his hair.

Suddenly Joe sat up. “Okay now time for the haul” you laughed. “You know what you are about” he stood up and walked to the kitchen counter where were the bags. He started snooping around. You looked at him. “Okay okay, I’ll try them on again just for you” you said walking to him, grabbing what he was holding. He couldn’t help but smile “yesssss” he said like an excited kid.

[honey-and-halos]

Right At You

Pairing: Joe Kerry x Reader

Summary: Joe tries to stay calm while watching you get interviewed by someone who is clearly flirting with you, but his jealousy shows in small ways.

Joe was trying so hard to be normal about it.

He stood just off to the side, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders relaxed like he was just casually waiting for his girlfriend to finish up. To anyone else, he probably looked chill, supportive boyfriend mode activated. But you knew him better than that.

You caught the subtle twitch in his jaw when the interviewer laughed a little too loud at one of your answers. You noticed how his eyes narrowed just a fraction every time the guy leaned in closer. He kept shifting his weight, pretending to scan the room, but his gaze kept snapping back to you like a magnet.

The interview had been fine at first. Standard red carpet stuff, questions about the new project, funny behind-the-scenes stories, your favorite scenes. But somewhere along the way, the interviewer had ditched the professional script.

“So,” the guy said, flashing a bright, overly familiar smile, “be honest… is it distracting being that pretty on set? Like, do people actually get any work done around you?”

You let out a short, awkward laugh and glanced down at your hands. “I don’t know about that. I think everyone’s pretty focused once the cameras start rolling.”

Joe’s eyebrows lifted slightly behind the interviewer’s back. Not enough for the cameras to catch, but you saw it.

The interviewer wasn’t done. “Come on, I’m serious. You walk on set looking like that and you’re telling me no one gets distracted?”

You smiled politely, trying to steer things back. “I mean, we’re all professionals. Plus, I’ve got a great scene partner who keeps me on my toes.”

Joe scratched the side of his face, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.

When the interview finally wrapped, the guy gave you one last lingering smile. “Seriously, it was great talking to you. Hope I get to do this again soon.”

Before you could even respond, Joe was suddenly right beside you, his hand gently pressing against the small of your back.

“Yeah,” he said, voice light but edged with something drier. “Really great questions, man.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling as Joe guided you away from the cameras and the crowd. The second you were out of earshot, you looked up at him.

“‘Really great questions’?” you teased.

Joe shrugged, trying to look innocent. “What? They were… thoughtful.”

You laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

“You’re doing the voice.”

He frowned. “What voice?”

“The one where you pretend you’re totally fine but sound like you’re one second away from short-circuiting.”

Joe gave you a look, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “You’re imagining things.”

The two of you climbed into the waiting car. The door shut, and the noise of the event faded away, leaving just the low hum of the engine and the city lights sliding past the windows. Joe leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it for the past twenty minutes.

His hand found your thigh almost immediately, resting there warmly, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against the fabric of your dress.

You turned toward him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Mostly.”

You waited, knowing he’d keep going if you gave him space.

He stared out the window for a second before continuing. “I don’t know… he was looking at you like I wasn’t even standing there. Like I was just some random guy in the background. And I had to stand there smiling like an idiot while he basically flirted with you on camera.”

His voice wasn’t angry, just tired and a little embarrassed.

“Joe,” you said softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

“I know it’s dumb,” he added quickly. “You were working. You handled it perfectly. I’m not mad at you. I just… I hated it.”

You nodded. “I could tell.”

His hand tightened slightly on your thigh. “I wanted to walk over and be like, ‘Hey, hi, boyfriend right here. Thanks for the interview, see you never.’” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “But I didn’t. I just stood there doing my supportive boyfriend face while my brain was melting.”

You grinned. “You materialized next to me the second it ended like a protective Victorian ghost.”

That pulled a real laugh out of him. “I thought I was being subtle.”

“You were many things,” you said, “but subtle wasn’t one of them.”

Joe turned in his seat to face you properly, his expression softening. The teasing faded, replaced by something more honest and vulnerable. “I just hate that feeling. Watching someone else try to charm you and knowing I have to play it cool because it’s your job. You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way. Which didn’t help.”

Your cheeks warmed. “You’re being clingy, Joe Keery.”

“Extremely,” he admitted without hesitation. He leaned over and rested his head against your shoulder, nuzzling in like he needed the contact. “I’m owning it. Growth.”

You laughed quietly and slid your fingers into his hair, playing with the strands the way you knew he liked. He practically melted, letting out a small, contented sound that made your chest feel warm.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, he mumbled against your shoulder, “I didn’t like him.”

“I noticed.”

“He was too smiley.”

“You smile a lot too,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but mine’s charming. His was… sleazy charming. There’s a difference.”

You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe.” He lifted his head just enough to look at you, eyes soft. “But you’re mine. And I don’t like sharing the view.”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, then his jaw. “I only had eyes for you the whole time. Even when I was trying to stay professional.”

Joe’s face relaxed completely, the last bit of tension slipping away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He let out a breath and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Good. Because I was losing my mind out there and trying really hard to look normal.”

“You failed,” you whispered, smiling.

“Spectacularly,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

The car continued through the glowing city streets, but inside it felt quiet and safe. Just the two of you, imperfect, a little possessive, and very much in love.

Credit for dividers:; cursed-carmine

[emqqx]

Hii! I love your writing so much!!

i was thinking about a joe x reader fic, while joe is on tour reader sometimes helps him out with his outfits. And one time before he got on stage she gave him a cowboy hat and whispered to his ear “save a horse ride a cowboy” and that got him so flustered, he couldn’t quite focus on the show. After the show ended, he took a uber with reader to the hotel, and they do it🫠 and because she teased him before the show he teases her 10 times more

"Save a ride, cowboy"

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆

english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!

Summary: You whisper something to Joe right before he goes on stage, leaving him flustered and painfully hard.

Warnings: explicit 18+ Smut, oral (f receiving) overstimulation, ridin, dirty talk, fluff, aftercare

The backstage hallway thrummed with controlled chaos. Roadies hurried past with cables and water bottles, the low rumble of thirty thousand fans vibrating through the concrete floor like a second heartbeat. Inside Joe’s private dressing room, the noise faded to a distant roar. It was just the two of you.

You stood close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, fingers slowly adjusting the collar of his half-unbuttoned black shirt. The fabric clung to his toned chest, sleeves rolled up to expose those strong forearms you loved feeling wrapped around you. His jeans were sinfully tight, boots polished, and his hair was perfectly messy.

“You look insane tonight,” you murmured, letting your hands drift lower. “Like every dirty fantasy I’ve ever had decided to walk around in real life.”

Joe’s hands settled on your hips, thumbs stroking gentle circles that quickly turned possessive. He pulled you flush against him, forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded and already darkening.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, intimate, just for you. “You’ve been staring at me like you want to ruin me before I even step foot on that stage.”

A playful smile curved your lips, you reached behind him for the cream-colored cowboy hat you’d stashed earlier and placed it on his head with deliberate care, tilting it low over one eye. The effect was devastating, rockstar edge mixed with filthy cowboy charm. Your thighs clenched involuntarily.

You rose onto your toes, lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your breath was hot and slow as you whispered the words you’d been dying to say all evening: “Save a horse… ride a cowboy.”

Joe’s reaction was immediate and visceral, his grip on your hips tightened hard enough to bruise. A full-body shiver ripped through him, and you felt his cock twitch sharply against your thigh. For a long second he just breathed against your neck, fighting for control.

“Fuck, baby…” he rasped, voice already wrecked and rough. “You really just said that? Two minutes before I have to go sing in front of thirty thousand people?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, jaw clenched tight. The tension between you crackled.

“You’re evil,” he groaned, but his eyes were full of heat and love. “I love you so goddamn much… and right now I want to bend you over that couch and fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

You flicked the brim of the hat with a wicked grin. The stage manager banged on the door. “One minute, Joe!”

Joe adjusted himself in his jeans with a pained hiss, then cupped your face with both hands. He kissed you deep, slow, and filthy,  tongue sliding against yours like a vow. When he pulled away, his voice was dark with promise. “You’re mine tonight. Every inch of you and I’m going to tease you until you’re shaking and begging.”

He walked out onto the stage slightly stiff, the cowboy hat low on his head, cheeks flushed.

From the wings, you watched him perform with a satisfied smirk and soaked panties.

Joe was magnetic as always, voice rich and powerful, body moving with that effortless swagger, but the distraction was obvious and delicious. His fingers kept brushing the brim of the hat. His eyes searched for you between songs more than usual. During a slow, sensual ballad, he stumbled over a line, biting his lip hard as your whisper clearly replayed in his head. The crowd went feral at the rare, flushed, sexy slip in his performance.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about. He nearly groaned into the mic, the image of you sinking down onto him, clenching tight, eyes locked on his, made his jeans feel torturously tight. He covered the mistake with a cocky hip roll that sent the arena screaming, but inside he was burning.

By the end of the encore he was sweaty, wired, and aching. The second he ran off stage he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers tightly, and pulled you toward the exit.

“I love you,” he said roughly, voice hoarse from singing. “And you’re going to regret that whisper… in the best possible way.”

The Uber ride back to the hotel was exquisite, agonizing foreplay. Tinted windows, city lights streaking past. Joe sat close, one arm draped lovingly around your shoulders while his other hand disappeared under your skirt. Two thick fingers buried themselves deep inside your soaked pussy, curling slowly against your g-spot as his thumb teased your swollen clit with feather-light strokes.

“Already dripping down my hand,” he murmured hotly against your ear. “You liked watching me struggle out there, didn’t you? Knowing I was rock hard thinking about you riding me the whole show.”

You whimpered, hips rolling desperately, every time your walls started fluttering and your breathing turned ragged, he slowed to a complete stop or pulled his fingers out, kissing your temple with soft affection.

“Not yet, my love. You don’t get to come until you’ve earned it on top of me.”

He kept you teetering on the edge the entire ride, whispering filthy promises and sweet “I love you’s” until you were shaking and nearly in tears by the time the car pulled up to the hotel.

The second the suite door locked, the tension exploded. Joe shoved you up against it with a low growl, kissing you like a man starved, deep, messy, desperate, and overflowing with love. His tongue tangled with yours as his hands roamed everywhere, squeezing your ass, sliding up your waist, cupping your breasts through your top. You could feel how hard he was, his cock straining against his jeans and pressing into your stomach.

“Been thinking about this since you whispered in my ear,” he breathed against your mouth. “Could barely focus on the songs. All I could picture was you on top of me later… but first, I need to taste you.”

He dropped to his knees right there in the entryway, eyes dark and hungry as he looked up at you from under the brim of the cowboy hat. Without wasting another second, he yanked your skirt up roughly and hooked your ruined panties to the side. The cool air hit your soaked pussy for only a second before his mouth was on you.

Joe groaned loudly the moment his tongue dragged through your folds, savoring your taste like he’d been dying for it all night “Fuck, baby… you’re dripping,” he moaned against your pussy, the vibration making your legs tremble. “All this for me?”

He didn’t tease at first, he devoured. His tongue licked broad, hungry stripes from your entrance up to your swollen clit, then sucked the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth with filthy, wet sounds. Two thick fingers pushed inside you instantly, curling perfectly against your g-spot while he ate you like a man possessed.

You cried out, one hand flying to his hat, the other gripping his hair as your hips bucked against his face. Joe hummed in approval, doubling down, he fucked you with his fingers faster, sucking your clit harder, occasionally pulling back just to drag his tongue slowly through your folds and whisper praise against your slick skin.

“So sweet… so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, voice husky. “I love you like this, falling apart on my tongue. My perfect girl.”

He added a third finger, stretching you open while his mouth focused entirely on your clit, flicking, sucking, circling relentlessly. Your thighs started shaking. The pressure built fast and brutal.

“Joe… oh my god…”

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, refusing to slow down. “Let me taste it.”

You shattered hard, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed through you. Your thighs clamped tight around his head, but Joe didn’t stop, instead he kept licking and fingering you through every wave, drawing it out until you were whimpering and oversensitive.

But he still wasn’t done, he pulled his fingers out only to replace them with his tongue, fucking it deep inside you while his thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit. The cowboy hat was still on his head, slightly crooked now as he buried his face deeper between your thighs.

“You’re gonna give me another one,” he said, voice muffled and dripping with lust. “I want you soaked and shaking before I let you ride me.”

He sucked your clit back into his mouth and hummed, the vibrations sending sparks up your spine. His strong hands gripped your ass, holding you firmly against his face as he worked you relentlessly. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second built even faster. Your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure.

“Joe…fuck… it’s too much”

“You can take it, love,” he praised between licks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Look at me while you come again.”

The eye contact destroyed you, you came even harder the second time, legs nearly giving out as pleasure ripped through your body. Joe groaned loudly, licking up every drop like he couldn’t get enough.

Only when you were trembling and gasping did he finally pull back. His lips and chin were shiny with your arousal. He looked up at you with pure lust and adoration, the cowboy hat still perched on his head, and licked his lips slowly.

“Best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured, voice rough. He stood up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then scooped you into his arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. Still wearing the cowboy hat, he leaned back against the headboard and pulled you on top of him.

“Now, baby,” he said, voice dark and loving, eyes burning into yours. “Ride your cowboy.”

You straddled his hips, heart hammering, your hands trembled slightly with need as you wrapped your fingers around his thick, hard cock. He was heavy and throbbing, the tip already slick with precum. Joe hissed through his teeth when you stroked him slowly, teasingly “Don’t tease me too much,” he warned, but his smirk said he loved it. “I’ve been hard since you whispered in my ear.”

You positioned yourself over him and slowly sank down, the stretch was delicious, inch by inch, you took him until your ass met his thighs and he was buried completely inside you. A broken moan left both of you at the same time.

“Fuck…” Joe groaned, head tilting back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “You feel so good. So fucking tight and wet around me.”

You stayed still for a few seconds, just feeling him pulse inside you, letting yourself adjust. Then you began to move.

At first, you rolled your hips in slow, deep circles, grinding down so his cock rubbed perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you. Joe’s hands slid up your thighs, gripping your hips tightly, but he let you stay in control.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Your eyes locked, the intensity made your stomach flip, you braced your hands on his chest and started riding him properly, lifting up until only the tip remained inside, then sliding back down slowly, savoring every thick inch.

Joe’s jaw clenched, the cowboy hat casting a shadow over his eyes. “That’s it, baby… just like that. Ride me nice and deep.”

You gradually picked up the pace, bouncing on his cock with wet, filthy sounds filling the room. Your breasts bounced with every movement. Joe’s hands roamed, squeezing your ass, sliding up to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples until you whimpered.

“God, you’re so beautiful on top of me,” he breathed, voice rough with lust and affection. “My perfect girl. I’ve been thinking about this the entire show.”

You leaned forward, changing the angle, and rode him harder. The new position made him hit even deeper, Joe groaned loudly, one hand moving between your bodies to rub tight circles on your swollen clit.

“Joe…” you moaned, thighs starting to burn.

He kept the pressure steady on your clit, eyes never leaving your face. “Don’t stop, baby. Keep riding me, i want to feel you come all over my cock.”

The teasing began, every time you got close, every time your moans got higher and your walls started fluttering around him, Joe would grip your hips hard and hold you still, buried deep inside you but not letting you move.

“Not yet,” he murmured with a wicked smile, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. “You made me mess up lyrics tonight. Now you’re gonna suffer so pretty for me.”

You whined, trying to roll your hips, but his grip was iron, he pulled you down for a deep, messy kiss, tongues sliding together while he stayed buried to the hilt, throbbing inside you.

When he finally let you move again, you rode him desperately, fast, hard bounces that made the headboard slam against the wall. Your moans mixed with his low groans, the cowboy hat had slipped back slightly, his hair messy and damp with sweat.

Joe sat up suddenly, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you chest to chest. The new position made everything more intimate. You kept riding him, grinding down deep while he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered hotly against your skin. “I love you so fucking much.”

He rubbed your clit faster, thrusting up to meet your bounces

“Come for me, baby,” he growled. “Let me feel you.”

You came hard, crying out his name as your walls clenched rhythmically around his cock, pleasure crashed through you in powerful waves. Joe groaned loudly, holding you tight as he followed right after, spilling deep inside you with long, hot pulses.

You kept rolling your hips slowly through both of your orgasms, milking every last drop, until you were both trembling and breathless.

After that you collapsed forward onto his chest, Joe wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand gently stroking up and down your back. He was still inside you, softening slowly as you both caught your breath.

He tilted his head and kissed your forehead, then your temple, then your lips, soft, loving kisses that contrasted the raw intensity from minutes earlier.

“You okay, my love?” he whispered, voice hoarse and tender.

You nodded against his neck, boneless and glowing. “Perfect.”

Joe chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, he finally reached up and took off the cowboy hat, tossing it onto the nightstand, his fingers threaded through your hair as he held you close.

“That whisper ruined me tonight… in the best way possible,” he murmured. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you riding me. And you did it so fucking well.”

You smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Worth the distraction on stage?”

“Every second.” He squeezed you tighter, legs tangling with yours. “I love you. Not just the crazy sex… I love coming back to this, you know, holding you, being with you.”

You both stayed like that for a long time, connected, sweaty, hearts slowing down together. Joe continued stroking your back in slow, soothing patterns, occasionally pressing soft kisses to wherever he could reach.

After a while, he gently pulled out of you and shifted you to lie beside him, he pulled the covers over both of you and tucked you against his chest, your head resting over his heart.

“Next show,” he said quietly, a smile in his voice, “I’m wearing the hat again. And maybe I’ll make you wear something for me during the encore… so the second I get off stage I can pull you somewhere private and feel you ride me all over again.”

You shivered happily and nuzzled closer “Promise?”

Joe tilted your chin up, eyes soft and full of warmth “Forever, baby.”

He kissed you slow and sweet, then held you tight as sleep started to pull you both under tangled together, completely satisfied, and deeply in love.

Taglist: @deviousfaye @watercolorskyy @l33nlikeacholo @ophirei

[honey-and-halos]

All night, All yours

Pairing: Joe Keery x Reader

Summary: After the party ends, Joe Keery finally has you all to himself

The party had lasted well into the early hours, but even after the last guest left, Joe’s apartment still carried a warm, golden energy. Soft string lights twinkled across the living room, and the playlist had shifted into slow, dreamy R&B tracks. You were standing at the kitchen counter, rinsing out a glass, when strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

Joe rested his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear. “Finally,” he whispered, voice low and happy. “I’ve been dying to have you alone all night.”

You leaned back into his chest, smiling. “You were such a good host. But I could tell you were distracted.”

“Can you blame me?” He turned you in his arms, hazel eyes warm and sparkling as he looked at you. “You looked incredible in that dress. Every time you laughed or moved across the room, I kept thinking… she’s mine. I get to take her home.”

He kissed you slowly, savoring every second. His hands cupped your face with such gentleness that your heart fluttered. Joe had always been affectionate, but tonight felt different, deeper, like every touch carried extra meaning.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, taking your hand. He led you down the hallway to his bedroom, never letting go. Once inside, he dimmed the lamp to a soft amber glow and pulled you close again.

“Are you tired?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to do anything. I’d be just as happy holding you.”

“I want you,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt. “All of you.”

Joe’s smile was bright and boyish. He helped you out of your dress with reverent hands, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, your shoulders, the curve of your neck, down your chest, across your stomach. When you were left in just your panties, he dropped to his knees, looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“God, I’m so lucky,” he breathed.

He slid your panties down your legs and kissed along your thighs before guiding you onto the bed. Joe took his time undressing too, letting you watch as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and the light trail of hair disappearing into his jeans. When he finally joined you on the bed, he covered your body with his, skin to skin, and kissed you for what felt like forever.

His hand slipped between your thighs, fingers gently exploring. “You’re already so wet,” he murmured against your lips, smiling. Two long fingers eased inside you slowly while his thumb circled your clit with perfect, loving pressure. He watched your face the entire time, whispering praises between kisses.

“You’re so beautiful when you feel good… that’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way down your body, lavishing attention on your breasts before settling between your legs. Joe ate you out like he had all the time in the world, long, slow licks, gentle suction on your clit, and soft, loving kisses. He held your hand the whole time, fingers intertwined, as he brought you over the edge. Your first orgasm was slow and deep, rolling through you like warm honey. He stayed with you through every wave, murmuring sweet words against your skin.

When you tugged him back up, you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. You pushed his jeans and boxers down together, freeing his hard cock. It rested thick and heavy against your thigh as you stroked him slowly. Joe’s breath hitched, forehead dropping to yours.

“I need to feel you,” you whispered.

He reached for a condom, but you stopped his hand. “I want all of you tonight. Just us.”

Joe’s eyes softened with lust and emotion. He rubbed the head of his cock against your slick folds before pushing in, slow, careful, and deep. When he bottomed out, he stayed there, buried completely, breathing shakily against your neck.

“You feel like home,” he whispered. “So warm… so perfect.”

He made love to you in long, rolling thrusts, eyes locked on yours. One hand held yours beside your head, the other cradled the back of your neck. He kissed you constantly, your lips, your jaw, your eyelids, whispering how much he loved being inside you, how no one else had ever made him feel this way.

Your second orgasm built gradually. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and came with a soft cry of his name. Joe followed right after, spilling deep inside you with gentle, stuttering thrusts and a low, loving groan.

He stayed inside you as he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of his chest. For a long while you just lay there, skin sticky, hearts slowing together while he stroked your hair and back.

“I could stay like this forever,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

But the night was far from over.

After some water and soft laughter, you started kissing again. Heat built slower this time. You straddled him, sinking down onto his cock inch by inch while he watched you with hooded, adoring eyes. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you rode him—deep, sensual rolls that had both of you moaning. He sat up to hold you close, chest to chest, kissing your neck and whispering praises.

“You’re incredible… look at you taking me so well. I love you like this.”

He flipped you gently onto your side, spooning behind you. Lifting your leg, he slid back inside and fucked you with slow, deep strokes while rubbing your clit. The position felt impossibly intimate, his breath on your neck, his arm wrapped around you, holding you like he’d never let go.

You came together again, whispering each other’s names.

Still not satisfied, Joe pulled you into the shower. Warm water cascaded over both of you as he washed your body with gentle hands and soapy kisses. The shower quickly turned heated again. He pressed you against the cool tiles, lifted one of your legs, and slid into you under the spray. This round was a little faster, more desperate, but still full of sweet words and tender eye contact. You came hard with his mouth on your neck, and he followed, holding you steady as your legs shook.

Back in bed, clean and wrapped in fresh sheets, Joe pulled you into his arms once more. This final time was the slowest and most intimate. Face to face, legs tangled, barely any space between you. He moved in shallow, loving thrusts while kissing you lazily, swallowing every moan and whimper.

“I don’t ever want this night to end,” he confessed softly. “Being with you like this… it’s everything.”

When you both came for the last time, it was quiet and overwhelming, clinging to each other, breathing the same air, hearts pounding in sync.

Afterward, Joe cleaned you up again with a warm cloth, then tucked you against his chest under the covers. He played with your hair, tracing lazy circles on your back as you both came down.

“You make me so happy,” he murmured sleepily. “I hope you know that.”

You nuzzled closer, kissing his collarbone. “I do. And I feel the same.”

He smiled, pressing one last soft kiss to your lips before sleep started to pull him under. “Stay tomorrow? I’ll make pancakes… we can stay in bed as long as you want.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered.

Wrapped safely in Joe’s warm arms, surrounded by his scent and the steady beat of his heart, you drifted off feeling completely cherished, satisfied, and loved.

Divider Credits: anitalenia

[jinxispunk]

I LOVED the last period fic! Could you do one where Joe and reader have only been dating a few weeks and one night while she’s staying over she wakes up and she’s started and she’s like super embarrassed and such but joes really nice about it and helps her. Then she isn’t able to sleep the rest of the night because of cramps and back pain and joe tries everything but nothing is helping so he feels terrible and ends up taking the next day off of work to take care of her and nap with her. Sorry that was a lot. Thank youuuuuuu

oh i needed to write this today. i'm on day 2 of my period today and the cramps and cramping 😭 joe taking one day of care-taking and immediately deciding he’s never letting her suffer alone again is making me insane actually. thank you sm for this lovely request angel <3

nowhere else to be

Joe Keery x reader

Summary: A few weeks into dating Joe, you wake up mortified after starting your period in his bed - only to discover he treats taking care of you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, new relationship, periods/menstruation, cramps, nausea, fluff (let me know if I missed anything)

W/C: 1.8k

You wake up at 3:17am already knowing something’s wrong.

You're not properly awake yet, just enough to register discomfort first. That strange, heavy cramping ache low in your stomach, the damp warmth between your thighs, the immediate horrible realisation that follows seconds later.

Oh no.

Your eyes snap open into darkness. For one disorienting second, you forget where you are.

Then Joe shifts sleepily beside you, one arm still draped warm and heavy across your waist, and mortification crashes over you all at once.

Right.

Joe’s flat. Joe’s bed. Joe, who you’ve only been dating for a few weeks.

Your stomach drops straight through the floor as you very, very carefully lift the duvet slightly.

And yep. Absolutely fantastic.

You close your eyes briefly in silent despair. Maybe if you die immediately, you won’t have to deal with this.

Beside you, Joe makes a sleepy little noise and shifts closer instinctively, curls brushing against the pillow as he presses his face half into your shoulder. You could cry.

Slowly, carefully, you try to untangle yourself from him without waking him properly. Every movement feels impossibly loud in the silence of the room.

The mattress shifts slightly beneath your weight.

Joe stirs immediately.

“Mmph?” he mumbles thickly, still mostly asleep. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” you whisper too quickly. “Go back to sleep.”

Joe cracks one eye open suspiciously. The room is dim except for weak streetlight filtering through the curtains, soft silver catching against the mess of curls falling into his eyes.

“You’re sneakin’,” he murmurs.

Despite everything, a weak laugh almost escapes you. “I’m not sneaking.”

“You’re definitely sneaking.”

“I just need the bathroom.”

Joe hums softly, already halfway back to sleep. “Okay.”

You nearly make it. Honestly, you almost do.

Then Joe shifts again as you climb out of bed fully, his hand brushing across the sheets where you’d been lying seconds earlier.

He stills.

You feel the exact moment his sleepy brain catches up.

There’s a pause.

Then, very gently, “Oh.”

You physically want the earth to swallow you whole.

“Oh my god,” you whisper immediately, horrified. “I’m so sorry.”

Joe pushes himself upright at once, concern replacing the sleepiness on his face almost instantly.

“Hey. No, baby, don’t apologise.”

“I got blood on your sheets.”

“So?”

“So?” you repeat incredulously.

Joe blinks at you like the answer should be obvious. “So it washes?”

You stare at him, still mortified.

Joe’s expression softens immediately when he sees your face properly. “Oh, honey.”

That somehow makes it worse.

You press the heels of your hands briefly against your eyes. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It literally isn’t.”

“It literally is, Joe.”

“Nope.”

You laugh weakly despite yourself while he pushes the duvet aside and climbs out of bed.

Sleep has left him all soft around the edges - barefoot, shirtless, curls flattened on one side from the pillow - and somehow still entirely focused on making sure you’re okay before anything else.

“Bathroom first,” he says gently. “Then we deal with sheets, alright?”

You hesitate. “Joe-”

“Baby.” Softer now. “Go.”

The nickname settles warm and painful somewhere beneath your ribs, and you disappear into the bathroom before he can see how emotional that almost made you.

By the time you emerge ten minutes later wearing one of Joe’s old t-shirts and fresh underwear, the bedding’s gone.

You stop in the doorway slightly.

Joe glances up from where he’s stuffing sheets into the washing machine. “You okay?”

Your chest aches unexpectedly at the casualness of it all. Like this isn’t a disaster. Like you haven’t ruined anything.

“You’re being weirdly normal about this,” you mumble.

Joe looks genuinely confused. “Should I not be?”

“No, it’s just…”

You trail off helplessly.

Joe shuts the washing machine door and crosses the room toward you immediately, expression softening again when he sees the lingering embarrassment still written all over your face.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Periods aren’t gross.”

You look away. “Still.”

“Still nothing.”

His hands settle lightly against your hips, warm and steady.

“You know what I’m thinking about right now?” he asks.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “What?”

“How bad your cramps are gonna be in like an hour.”

Your stomach sinks.

Because he’s probably right.

“I've got four sisters,” Joe adds gently. “C'mon. Let's get you back to bed.”

Like your body heard him mentioning it and decided to speedrun the process, another sharp ache twists low in your abdomen hard enough that you flinch slightly.

Joe notices immediately.

“Oh, there it is.”

You groan softly into his shoulder. “Don’t.”

“How bad?”

“Mm.” You shrug weakly. “Could be worse.”

Joe gives you a look that very clearly says he doesn’t believe you for a second. Then he presses a quick kiss to your forehead and murmurs, “C’mon. Let’s get you comfy.”

Unfortunately, Joe turns out to be extremely correct about the cramps.

By four in the morning, you’re curled tightly on your side in his bed trying unsuccessfully not to move too much because every position somehow hurts.

Your stomach aches. Your back aches. You’re too warm beneath the duvet but freezing the second you push it away.

Worst of all, you can’t sleep.

Beside you, Joe shifts again for maybe the fifth time.

“You still awake?”

“Mhm.”

His hand immediately slides sleepily across the mattress until it finds your waist beneath the blankets.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Another cramp hits.

You squeeze your eyes shut immediately.

Joe pushes himself upright at once. “That bad?”

“No,” you lie weakly.

Joe stares at you for one long second before saying, “You are literally curled into the foetal position.”

You laugh softly despite yourself. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

You don’t answer that.

Joe’s expression softens instantly anyway, like he understands the thought behind it regardless.

“Hang on,” he murmurs, climbing carefully out of bed.

You watch him stumble sleepily toward the kitchen in grey joggers and yesterday’s t-shirt, rubbing one hand across his face while he squints blearily at the cupboards.

A minute later, you hear, “Do bananas help cramps?”

You blink. “…what?”

Joe reappears in the doorway holding a banana and his phone.

“The internet’s being weirdly unclear.”

A startled laugh escapes you before you can stop it.

Joe looks deeply pleased with himself immediately. “There she is.”

“You googled cramps?”

“I’m researching.”

“At four in the morning?”

Joe shrugs like this is entirely reasonable. “You’re in pain.”

Something warm twists painfully in your chest.

Over the next hour, Joe proceeds to try approximately everything. Painkillers. Tea. A heating pad he finds buried somewhere in the bathroom cupboard.

He rubs slow circles against your lower back while you lie curled against his chest. Brushes hair away from your face when nausea starts creeping in. Reheats the heating pad twice because he notices you visibly relaxing every time he presses it against your stomach.

You realise somewhere around five-thirty in the morning that Joe gets genuinely upset when he can’t fix things, especially when the thing upsetting him is you being uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to stay awake,” you mumble eventually, voice rough with exhaustion.

Joe looks down at you immediately from where you’re tucked against his side. “You think I’m gonna sleep while you’re suffering?”

“That’s dramatic.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You literally googled bananas.”

“In my defence,” Joe says seriously, “there were articles.”

You snort weakly into his chest.

Joe’s fingers drift slowly through your hair afterwards, absentminded and soothing. The room is quiet except for soft rain against the windows and the occasional creak of pipes somewhere in the building.

You’re still hurting, but less alone now.

That matters more than you expected it to.

The next time you wake up properly, sunlight is spilling weakly through the curtains.

For one blissful second, you forget everything.

Then your stomach aches again and you groan quietly into the pillow.

Immediately, the arm around your waist tightens.

“You awake?”

Joe’s voice is still rough with sleep.

You blink blearily up at him. “What time is it?”

“Like…” He squints toward the clock. “Ten?”

Your eyes widen immediately.

“Oh shit. Don’t you have work?”

Joe just shrugs one shoulder and pulls you slightly closer against him. “Called off.”

You stare at him.

“…what?”

Joe looks confused by your confusion. “You were up all night in pain.”

“Joe.”

“What?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

His expression softens immediately.

“Wanted to.”

The simplicity of it hits embarrassingly hard, and you look down quickly before he can fully see your face.

Joe notices anyway, because of course he does.

“Hey.” His fingers tilt your chin gently back toward him. “What’s goin’ on in there?”

“You’re just…” You laugh weakly. “Really nice to me.”

Joe’s entire face changes at that, like the sentence genuinely catches him off guard.

“Baby,” he says softly, “that should not sound surprising.”

You shrug slightly.

Joe studies you quietly for a second, then reaches up and brushes his thumb beneath one of your eyes.

“You know none of this scared me off, right?”

You blink at him.

“The blood. The cramps. You threatening to fistfight your uterus at five in the morning.” His mouth twitches slightly. “None of it.”

A horrified laugh escapes you. “I said that out loud?”

“You said,” Joe quotes carefully, “‘if I could remove this thing myself, I would.’”

“Oh my god.”

“You also called your lower back a traitor.”

You hide your face in his shoulder immediately while Joe laughs softly above your head.

“This is so humiliating.”

“Nope.”

“Yes it is.”

Joe presses a kiss into your hair.

“You wanna know what I think?”

You groan. “Not particularly.”

“I think,” he says anyway, “you’re very cute when you’re threatening internal organs.”

You laugh helplessly against his chest, and Joe’s arms tighten around you automatically.

And suddenly you understand something a little terrifying.

He likes taking care of you.

Not in a weird saviour way. Just… genuinely. Like it makes him happy to be somebody you lean on.

The realisation settles warm and strange somewhere beneath your ribs.

Joe brushes another kiss against your forehead before murmuring sleepily, “You should try sleeping again.”

“You too.”

“Nah.” He shifts lower beneath the blankets until his head’s half-buried against your shoulder. “I’m busy.”

“With what?”

“Cuddling my girl.”

Your heart does something deeply embarrassing.

Because it’s been weeks. Just weeks.

And somehow Joe already says things like that, like they belong there. Like you belong there.

You smooth your fingers slowly through his curls while his eyes drift shut again almost instantly beneath the touch.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, “you’re making it very difficult not to fall a little bit in love with you.”

Joe’s eyes open again immediately - slowly, sleepily, and with a softness so devastating it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

“Little bit?” he murmurs.

You laugh softly.

Joe smiles against your shoulder, then he tucks you impossibly closer beneath the blankets and says, very quietly, “Yeah. Think I might already be screwed on that front.”

dividers: saradika-graphics

[kensley-11]

🍼:: first day home

The first day home from the hospital with baby Katelyn shows just how good of a dad joe already is.

dad!joe x actress!reader

cw: sickening fluff :)

The drive home is slower than the drive there.

Joe takes every turn like the car is made of glass. Like the roads are new. Like he has never in his life operated a vehicle and is only now understanding the stakes involved.

You watch him check the rearview mirror for the sixth time in four minutes and don’t say anything, because honestly, you’re doing the same thing.

Your twisting in the passenger seat every thirty seconds to look at Katelyn in her car seat, who is asleep, who is completely fine, who does not know that her parents are running on three hours of combined sleep and approximately forty percent of their usual cognitive function.

“She good?” Joe asks.

“She’s good.”

Thirty seconds.

“She good?”

“Joe.”

“Yep, okay.”

He checks the mirror again.

The apartment smells like the candle your best friend must have lit and then extinguished before leaving. It’s a welcome-home instinct, a good one. Someone has put flowers on the kitchen counter, tulips, pale pink, with a card that you don’t read yet because you are focused entirely on the task of getting inside.

Joe sets the car seat down on the living room rug and crouches in front of it and just looks at her for a second.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” you echo.

Neither of you moves.

“So she’s here now,” he says.

“She’s here now.”

“In our house.”

“In our house.”

He looks up at you. There’s something on his face that isn’t quite fear and isn’t quite awe. It’s the specific expression of a person standing at the edge of something enormous, squinting into it, trying to take the measure of it.

Then he reaches out and unbuckles Katelyn from the seat with the focused care of someone defusing something, lifts her against his chest, and stands up.

“Cool,” he says. “Cool.. Great. We’re fine. This is fine.”

Katelyn sleeps through all of it.

The first feeding is 11 p.m.

You hear her before the monitor even catches up . It’s some new frequency your body has apparently tuned itself to without asking, some biological thing.

You’re already sitting up when Joe stirs beside you.

“I’ve got her,” you say.

“I’m up,” he says, which is either a lie or an aspiration; his eyes are still closed.

“Joe, go back to sleep.”

“I’m up,” he says again, and this time he actually opens his eyes, and pushes himself to sitting with the slow determination of a man operating on will alone.

His hair is going in four directions. He looks like he lost a fight with the pillow. He gets up anyway.

You nurse Katelyn in the chair in the corner of her room. The pale pink room, the one that still smells faintly of paint under the lavender of the plug-in diffuser.

Joe sits on the floor with his back against the wall, knees pulled up, watching.

“You don’t have to sit here,” you tell him.

“I know.”

“You could sleep.”

“I’m aware of that option, yeah.”

He pulls his knees up a little more and tips his head back against the wall. In the soft glow of the nightlight he looks young and rumpled and very awake.

“How is she?” he asks.

“Eating.”

“Good. Good, that’s— yeah.” He nods like this is useful information he will file away. Then: “How are you?”

The question lands differently than you expected.

Not “are you okay” which you’d have deflected without thinking, but “how are you,” which opens a door you’re not sure you’re ready to walk through— Especially at 11pm in a lavender-scented room with your daughter attached to your chest and your body feeling like a stranger’s.

“Tired,” you say, which is true but not the whole truth.

Joe looks at you.

“Yeah? What else, baby?” he asks, quiet.

You look down at Katelyn. Her eyes are closed. Her fist is curled against your skin.

“I don’t know yet,” you say honestly. “I think I need a few days to figure out what’s me being tired and what’s something else.”

He doesn’t push. He doesn’t offer a solution or talk you out of the feeling or make it smaller.

He just nods, slow, and says: “Okay. Tell me when you know. Or when you don’t know. Either way.”

“Okay,” you say smiling faintly.

Katelyn makes a small sound. A rearrangement of herself. Something that communicates, in the universal language of newborns: I’m still here. Pay attention.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe tells her from the floor. “We see you.”

2 a.m. is his.

You hear them through the monitor, a small mercy, he’s taken her to the living room so you can sleep. You lie in bed for a few minutes in the dark just listening.

“Okay,” Joe is saying. “Okay, I hear you. I hear you. I don’t know what you want me to do about it, but I want you to know that I’m listening.”

Katelyn, undeterred, continues.

“Is it the swaddle? I feel like it’s the swaddle.” A pause. “I redid the swaddle. That was.. okay, that’s not it.” Another pause, longer. “What if I—here. Here, how’s that.” The volume dips. “There you go. See? See? We figured it out.”

A few seconds of quiet.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea why that worked either.”

You smile at the ceiling. You’re asleep within four minutes.

4 a.m. you’re up again before he can get to her, and this time something is different. You can’t name it exactly it’s a thickness behind your eyes, a weight that isn’t just physical.

You sit in the chair with Katelyn and the tears come without warning, without narrative, without any cause you can identify. They just arrive. Quiet and steady.

You’re not scared. You’d read about this. You’d been told. But knowing a thing is coming and having it arrive are different things. You sit in the pale pink room at 4 a.m. and cry without entirely knowing why, with Katelyn in your arms, both of you in her nightlight’s glow.

Joe appears in the doorway at some point. You don’t know how long he’s been there.

He comes in and doesn’t say anything immediately, just crouches in front of you, elbows on his knees, and looks at your face.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out wrecked. “Sorry. I don’t.. I’m not sad, I think. I don’t know what this is.”

“You don’t have to know what it is.”

“I feel stupid.”

“Don’t.” He says it simply, without force, and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just had a baby. You can cry.”

“I cried in the shower earlier too.”

“I know. I heard.”

“Why didn’t you—”

“Because you didn’t ask me to come in.” He says this matter-of-factly, no edge to it. “But I stayed outside the door.”

You look at him.

“The whole time?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You breathe. It goes a little ragged in the middle and smooths out at the end.

“I feel like my body isn’t mine right now,” you say, slowly, testing the words as they come out. “Like I’m borrowing it from someone and I don’t know the terms of the lease.”

He takes that in. Doesn’t try to fix it.

“That sounds really disorienting,” he says.

“It is.” You look down at Katelyn, who has fallen back asleep against you, completely unbothered.

“She has no idea. That’s wild to me. She has absolutely no idea.”

“She knows you,” Joe says. “Apparently that’s like, the first thing they figure out. Your voice. Your smell.” He pauses. “I looked it up at earlier.”

“Of course you did.”

“I’ve looked up a lot of things tonight.”

“Like what?”

He lists them on his fingers. “Why babies hate being put down. Whether it’s normal if they make that noise.. the kind of like, pterodactyl noise—”

“It’s normal.”

“I know, I found that out. Also the best swaddle technique, which I’ve now watched a video on five times, and I think I’ve cracked it. And also..”he pauses. “Whether postpartum stuff can start right away or if it takes longer.”

You go quiet.

“I wasn’t going to bring it up,” he says, “unless you did. But I wanted to know what to look for.” You look at him for a long moment.

“Joe.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to be really annoying about being good at this, aren’t you.”

He huffs. Looks away. But his mouth does the thing it does when he’s trying not to smile. “I mean. I wouldn’t use the word annoying.”

Morning comes in sideways through the curtains, that specific pale gold of early spring.

Katelyn is in the bassinet, Joe had moved her because he said he “needed to watch her.” She’s actually sleeping, which she has been doing for a full forty-seven minutes, which is, as far as you are both currently concerned, an extraordinary achievement.

You are in bed. Joe has brought coffee, which you can only have a cautious amount of. He’s sitting up against the headboard with his mug, reading something on his phone.

You’re lying with your head on his leg, not sleeping but you’re not awake either. You’re in a soft middle place, the one that only exists when you feel completely safe.

The morning light is catching the side of his face. There’s a crease from the pillow still on his cheek. He’s been awake for most of the last seventy-two hours and he is smiling at a texts from his sisters about his new daughter like it’s the best thing that’s happened to him all week.

“Hey,” you say.

He looks down.

“Thank you,” you say. “For this week. For all of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know. I want to.”

He sets the phone down and his hand finds your hair, easy and unhurried.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he says. Simply. Like it isn’t even a complex thing.

From the bassinet, Katelyn makes the pterodactyl noise.

Joe is up before you can move, crossing the room in three steps, leaning over her with his hands braced on the sides of the bassinet.

“Good morning,” you hear him say. “Look who’s awake. Look at you.”

A pause.

“You slept forty-seven minutes,” he tells her.

“That’s really good. I’m proud of you, babygirl.”

You put the pillow over your face. You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying. “You’re hungry. Okay. Here—” and then the sound of him picking her up, the familiar recalibration of his voice going softer, “here we go. I’ve got you. Let’s go get your mama.”

He comes back to the bed with her and deposits her gently into your arms, then gets back in beside you. You nurse her in the morning light with your head tipped against his shoulder and his arm around you both.

Outside the city is starting up, people are on their way to work, tabloids about Katelyn are starting to make the round, the tulips on the counter are probably past their peak by now, and none of that matters even slightly.

Katelyn eats. Joe steals a sip of your coffee because he already finished his. You let him.

“She’s got your nose,” he says, for what is probably the eighth time since she was born.

“You’ve said that.”

“It keeps being true.”

You look down at her. At the small perfect unfathomable fact of her.

“Yeah,” you say. “Okay.”

The morning holds. The three of you stay still inside it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

—

@watercolorskyy (tags are open!!)