Rate his butt. Iâll go first 8.8/10. Could be a little more toned out.
tumblr dot com

Discoholic đŞŠ
AnasAbdin

Kiana Khansmith
$LAYYYTER

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

No title available
occasionally subtle
đŞź

romaâ
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Janaina Medeiros
Stranger Things
almost home

JVL
cherry valley forever
No title available
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Kazakhstan

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Ireland

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Algeria
seen from France

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from France
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
@keerystff
Rate his butt. Iâll go first 8.8/10. Could be a little more toned out.
something something ride a cowboy
via goldennataliie on tiktok
đĽşđĽşđĽşđĽşđĽş
always always always thinking of djo on this tour night⌠so yummy
hii so like it starts where reader and joe are both in bed lying down and they kiss and reader gets caught off guard cus shes distracted by joeâs nose always bumping into hers and she loves it. But what she loves more is joeâs nose whenever he goes down on her
"Nose bumps & midnight pleasures"
ââË.â Joe Keery x reader ââË.â
english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!
summary: Lazy kisses in bed with Joe lead to nose bumps that distract and arouse you...
warnings: : Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk. 18+
You lie in the soft tangle of sheets, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of a single bedside lamp. The city hums faintly outside the window, but inside, it's just the two of you, JoeÂ
and you.Â
His long limbs are stretched out beside yours on the king sized bed, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and your oversized sleep shirt. You've been dating for months now, but nights like this still feel electric, like the first time every time. His dark hair is tousled from running his hands through it earlier during dinner, and those expressive brown eyes lock onto yours with that signature half smile that always makes your stomach flip.
Joe shifts closer, one arm sliding under your shoulders to pull you in.
 "Come here," he murmurs, his voice low and rough around the edges, the way it gets when he's relaxed and wanting.
 You turn toward him, your legs brushing against his under the covers, the mattress dips slightly as he leans in, and then his lips are on yours, soft at first, a gentle press that deepens quickly. His mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the mint toothpaste you both used after brushing your teeth together. You sigh into the kiss, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm.
But almost immediately, you're caught off guard; Joe's nose, prominent, perfectly imperfect, the one fans obsess over in every close up shot, bumps gently against yours.Â
It's not a hard clash, just a subtle nudge as he tilts his head for a better angle. You pull back a fraction, eyes fluttering open in surprise, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat. "Sorry," he whispers against your lips, grinning that boyish grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes. But you shake your head, pulling him back in.Â
You love it.
 The way his nose brushes yours again and again as the kiss intensifies, like an accidental caress that sends little sparks down your spine. It's so him, endearingly awkward in the best way, a reminder that this isn't some polished movie scene.Â
This is real, messy, intimate.
You deepen the kiss, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging lightly. Joe's tongue traces the seam of your lips, and you open for him, melting as he explores your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.
 Another bump of his nose, this time against your cheek as he angles deeper, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes you. He notices, of course he does, Joe always notices the little things. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through your joined mouths.
 "What?" he mumbles, breaking just enough to speak.
"Your nose," you admit breathlessly, your cheeks warming. "It keeps... bumping me. I love it."
His eyebrows lift in that playful, surprised way he has, like you've just handed him the best compliment in the world.
 "Yeah?" He nuzzles closer deliberately this time, letting the tip of his nose drag along the bridge of yours before capturing your lips again.
 The contact is firmer now, intentional, and it makes your pulse race. You press into him, bodies aligning side by side under the sheets, legs tangling, his hand slides down your side, fingers skimming over the curve of your hip, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him hardening against your thigh, the evidence of his arousal making heat pool low in your belly.
The kissing goes on like that for what feels like hours, lazy and heated all at once. Every tilt of his head brings another brush of his nose, sometimes grazing your upper lip, sometimes nudging your cheek. It's distracting in the most delicious way, pulling your focus from the slick slide of tongues to the unique texture of him. You love how it feels slightly cool at first compared to his warm mouth, then warms with shared breath. You love the way it makes the kiss imperfect, human, yours.Â
Joe seems to revel in it too, now that he knows. He experiments, rubbing his nose against yours between kisses, laughing softly when you shiver.
Eventually, his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, palm flat against your stomach, inching upward. Your breath hitches as his fingers find your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbles under his touch.
 "God, you're so responsive," he whispers, voice husky, he kisses you harder, nose bumping insistently now, and you arch into him, craving more contact.
 The sheets rustle as you shift, rolling halfway onto your back. Joe follows, propping himself on one elbow, his body half covering yours without crushing you. His free hand continues its exploration, mapping the familiar curves of your body like he's memorizing them anew.
You tug at his t-shirt, impatient now
. "Off," you murmur between kisses, he obliges, sitting up briefly to yank it over his head, revealing the lean, toned torso you've traced with your fingers a hundred times.
 The sight of him makes your mouth water.
 He returns to you immediately, lips crashing back onto yours. Nose bump, heart skip. You smile into the kiss, and he feels it, smiling back.
His mouth trails lower after a while, leaving a path of wet kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tilt your head, giving him access, and he sucks lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear, earning a gasp. His nose nuzzles there too, the combination of soft lips and firm nose tip driving you wild. Down further, he pushes your shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Cool air hits your skin, but his warmth chases it away as he lavishes attention on your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling, while his nose presses into the soft flesh of the other.
 The dual sensation, wet heat and that perfect pressure, has you threading your fingers through his hair again, holding him close.
"Joe..."
 His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he hums in response, the vibration shooting straight to your core.
 You're already wet, aching for him, but he's taking his time, building it slow. His hands roam, one slipping between your thighs to tease at the edge of your panties. You buck against his fingers, seeking friction, but he pulls back with a teasing grin, nose brushing your sternum as he looks up at you.
"Not yet," he says, voice low. "I want to taste you first."
Your heart pounds as he kisses his way down your body, over your ribs, your stomach, lingering at your hips. He hooks his fingers into your panties and slides them down your legs, discarding them. You're bare to him now, and he settles between your thighs, broad shoulders spreading you open.Â
The anticipation coils tight in your belly.
 You've always loved this with Joe, the way he devours you like you're his favorite meal but tonight, your mind keeps drifting back to that nose of his.Â
The way it bumped during kisses. What it might feel like hereâŚ
Joe starts slow, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his breath hot against your skin. His hands hold your hips steady, thumbs stroking soothing circles. Then, finally, his mouth is on you.
 A long, flat lick from your entrance up to your clit has you moaning loudly, back arching off the bed. He groans at your taste, the sound muffled against you.
 "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmurs, the words sending vibrations through your folds.
And there it is, his nose.
 As he buries his face deeper, working his tongue in slow circles around your clit, the bridge of his nose presses firmly against your mound, nudging with every movement.
 It's perfect.Â
The slight pressure, the way it shifts as he eats you out, rubbing just right against your sensitive skin. You love the kisses, but thisâŚthis is something else entirely.Â
The nose that distracted you so sweetly during that makeout session is now an instrument of pure pleasure, grinding subtly against you as his tongue delves inside you, lapping at your wetness.
"Oh god, JoeâŚyour nose," you gasp, unable to hold back the words.Â
Your hands fist the sheets, then move to his hair, guiding him without forcing, he looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, lips glistening. That nose, slightly shiny now with your arousal, bumps against your clit as he pulls back to breathe, and the friction makes stars burst behind your eyelids.
"You like that?" he asks, voice thick, he does it again deliberately, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down your slit before flicking his tongue over your clit. "Tell me."
"I love it," you whimper, hips rolling against his face. "The way it feels...fuck, it's so good down here."
Joe's response is a deep, satisfied hum, then he dives back in with renewed vigor, nose pressing harder, sliding through your folds as his tongue fucks into you in rhythmic thrusts. The combination is overwhelming, It's like he's everywhere at once, consuming you.Â
You can feel the build up already, that tight coil winding faster than usual because of this new focus. His hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly for better access, and he buries himself deeper, nose nudging insistently, rubbing side to side in a way that has you crying out.
The room fills with the sounds of it; your ragged breaths, his muffled groans of enjoyment, the obscene wet noises of his mouth on you. Sweat beads on your skin as you writhe beneath him. He switches techniques, sucking your clit between his lips while his nose continues that perfect pressure lower down, then flattening his tongue and letting his nose take the lead on your most sensitive spot. Every bump, every glide of that feature against your pussy sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
"Joe, I'mâŚI'm close," you pant, thighs trembling around his head.Â
He doesn't let up, doubling down, his nose presses firmly against your clit now, rubbing in tight circles while his tongue laps at your entrance, pushing you right to the edge. You come hard, hips bucking wildly against his face, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as waves of ecstasy crash over you and he rides it out with you, nose and mouth working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you're shaking and oversensitive.
But Joe doesn't stop, he gentles his touch, licking you softly through the aftershocks, his nose still nuzzling gently, almost affectionately now.Â
"That's my girl," he whispers against your thigh, pressing a kiss there.
 His face is flushed, lips swollen, nose glistening. The sight of him like that makes fresh heat stir in you.
You tug him up, needing to kiss him, to taste yourself on his lips, he crawls up your body, and when your mouths meet, his nose bumps yours again. You laugh breathlessly into the kiss, still riding the high.
 "I love your nose so much," you confess between pecks. "In every way."
Joe grins, settling his weight on you carefully, his erection pressing hot and heavy against your stomach.Â
"Good because I love using it on you."
 He kisses you deeply, letting you taste the evidence of your orgasm, his hands roam again, reigniting the fire. You reach between you, wrapping your fingers around his cock, stroking him slowly. He's rock hard, leaking at the tip, and he groans into your mouth at your touch.
The night stretches on⌠and by the time exhaustion claims you both, the sheets are twisted and damp, the room smelling of sex and sweat.
 You're curled against his chest, his arm around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back, his nose nuzzles the top of your head, and you smile sleepily.
 "Best distraction ever," you murmur.
Joe chuckles, the sound rumbling under your ear.Â
"Anytime."
 He kisses your forehead, nose brushing your skin one last time. Sleep comes easy, wrapped in him, dreaming of more nights just like this.
Taglist: @watercolorskyy, @deviousfaye , @watercolorskyy , @l33nlikeacholo @ophirei @leahfaith @bluehexagon8 @unclejeezysblog@sweatydjoshoes
masterlist
hiiii!
can i request a scene for the Harrington Household series? maybe one where the oldest son (or the oldest daughter) tries sneaking in (or out) their bedroom window, because hello! theyâre steveâs kids and he was the stealthiest ninja back in his days and knows all about climbing through windows. but also bc theyâre steveâs kids, he knows and catches them.
maybe if theyâre sneaking back in, when they turn on their lights, steve is just sitting there in the dark.
or if theyâre sneaking out, steve is already outside their window waiting for them to climb down and makes them climb back up instead of going through the front door.
Summary: Trying to steer your teenagers down the right path makes Steveâs memories of his past stir, and you help remind him that heâs the most loved person in your home.
WC: 3.6k
Warnings & What to Expect: hargrove!fem!reader, mentions of sex (having the talk w/ the oldest) parental struggles - Steveâs parents not demonstrating enough love to him and heâs feeling the weight of it đ˘
Harrington Household Masterlist
putting reqs on pause so i can catch up on what i have. feel free to still send me chats! I adore talking to yâall! đŤśđť this fic would take place months after the dinner imagine, and before summer starts!
Main Masterlist If Interested!
Peachâs Note: hii anon!! omg Steve would be stressing over this, poor guy! im combining this w/ another request about the oldest and his gf. i definitely went a more angsty route with Steve being hard on himself, but tried to keep it lighthearted too. hope yâall enjoy â¤ď¸
i feel like this song sums up Steveâs feelings for his kids đ⤾ď¸
Your seventeen year old boy may be the kindest teenager you know, but heâs still Steve Harringtonâs teenager.
if not puppy why so puppy shaped?
madwheeler coincidentally matching outfits on the same day twice makes me wonder if their periods ever synced up too
Under Your Fingertips
⥠Steve touches you as if he can press the truth directly into your skin.
Warnings : 18+ / MDNI! ⢠Enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst (blood/injuries, fear of losing someone), smoking (cigarette), smut (unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public ie outside), emotional vulnerability, protective Steve Harrington, praise kink(?) with themes of trauma, self-worth, and comfort throughout
Pairing : Steve Harrington x impossible girl!Henderson!reader
Word count: 7.3k
Summary: After yet another failed crawl leaves you trapped beneath collapsing concrete, Steve Harrington finally snaps. Forcing you to confront what you really mean to him.
Chefâs Note: yes, the glasses stay on. Send any tips to this customer @roseswebcorner (Order in comments) âĄ
The 1,000 followers menu
Rain spits against the windows of the station, turning the parking lot outside into a smear of neon reflections and black asphalt. The âWSQKâ sign buzzes red against the storm, flickering ominously over puddles and the van which Steve had abandoned at an angle near the curb, one wheel half up on the pavement.Â
Wind rattles the broken gutter overhead, and through the rain-streaked glass you can just about make him out, standing beneath the awning. Barely sheltered.Â
Head tipped back against the brick. White t-shirt damp beneath his cord jacket where the rain had soaked through. Hair curling at the edges, pushed back off his forehead evidently from running his hands through it. His wire-framed glasses catch the red every few seconds, briefly obscuring the exhausted look underneath them before the light flickers away.Â
Steve.Â
Steve with blood drying across his knuckles. Steve with a cigarette between his fingers despite the fact he told the others heâd quit months ago.
V. Change
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Summary: You finally go on a date with Joe. And everything goes better than you expected.
Notes: Almost done! I'm already writing the last part and guys⌠đĽľđĽľđĽľđĽľ I really want to try to post by the weekend, maybe Sunday or Monday⌠BUT I NEED TO WRITE MY FUCKING DISSERTATION TOO (but I already have 2 ideas for new fics and one is about Gator!!!!!!) Well, thatâs it.
English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if anything sounds a little off.
@eller41 @djournalist
You really exaggerated how long it would take to get to the cafĂŠ. It was 3:45 p.m. when you spotted a small, nondescript door in the middle of bustling New York, with the name of the cafĂŠ Joe had mentioned.Â
You took a deep breath, as if there werenât enough air on the street to sustain you at that moment. Your heart was beating faster than usual, you could almost feel it pounding in your chest. There were 4 new messages on your phone:
1 from Joe: Hi! Iâm already on my way.Â
1 from your brother: Can we talk today?
1 from Laura and 1 from Juliaâboth wanted to hear about your date with Joe.
Date. The word felt strange when you read it, almost out loud. It had been at least six years and five months since youâd been on a date. The guys youâd gone out with in New York since you arrived had never invited you to do anything very interesting, aside from grabbing coffee on campus or going to their place to âwatch a movieâ and you didnât really consider any of those things to be actual dates.
You found a table in the back of the cafĂŠ, a little hidden away and sat down. You werenât sure how close Joe lived to there, so you took a book out of your bag and started reading. Although the hangover was still lingering in your body, you were able to concentrate well on the small words on the pages, hoping to forget the nervousness, the slightly sweaty palms and the headache that had been bothering you since you left home.
A few minutes passed when you felt someone approaching the table, and, thinking it was the waiter, you didnât quite look up from the book as you ordered a black coffee, with nothing in itâno milk, no sugar, nothing.
Joe chuckled a little and said:
âI can take care of that.â
You were slightly startled by that voice, which had become a comforting sound to your earsâa sound that, somehow, made you feel a little more relaxed. You smiled, a bit embarrassed by the situation and began to slowly close the book while looking into Joeâs eyes. You didnât know if it was the hangover making you more sensitive, or if it was what had happened yesterday making you more sensitive, but you had the feeling that he was even more handsome at that moment.
âHi,â you said, smiling at him.
He quickly pulled the chair in front of you and sat down.
âHi,â he said, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. âWhat are you reading?â
âOh, a book⌠Well⌠This might sound like Iâm trying to show off, but Dostoevsky⌠Iâm in a book club with my friends, and we decided to read something more intellectual this year.â You felt your cheeks flush as you laughed at the situation. Normally, you wouldn't read such classic literature or books that people consider so intellectual if it werenât for your PhD or university in general. Sure, youâd read a lot in your life, but lately youâd been enjoying lighter reads.Â
âI like DostoevskyâŚâ Joe said, a little smile on his face.
âOh, me too. But donât you find it a little annoying when people only talk about classic authors and go around carrying their little books around? Doesnât it seem like they just want to show off?â You were silent for a few seconds, studying Joeâs reaction. âI donât know, I get that feeling. But really⌠Iâm reading it because my friends made me.â
âI think so. But I wouldnât judge you that wayâafter all, you work with literature, donât you?â
âYeah, but I think thatâs exactly why I donât like people who only talk about the classics⌠I donât know, maybe Iâm just a grumpy person at heart.â You smiled. That was your go-to way of testing the waters with someone. You said something self-deprecating about yourself, but not with the intention of receiving compliments or pity, but to see if the person could handle less-than-positive comments every now and then. And thatâs exactly what happened. Joe laughed, shaking his head and called the waiter over so you could order.
âA black coffee, nothing in itâno sugar, no milk, nothing. Right?â Joe looked at you, smiling, and you just nodded, happy that even though it had only been a few minutes, he remembered word by word of what you had said. âA slice of chocolate cake and an espresso.â The waiter took your order and left right away, while Joe turned to look at you again. There was something in his gaze that you couldnât quite put your finger on, but before you could say anything, he interrupted your train of thought and said, âYouâre going to love the chocolate cake here. I only ordered one slice, weâll share it⌠And then, if you want⌠No pressure⌠weâll order another.â You just nodded, and silence fell over your table for a few seconds as you tried to read his expression. But it didnât take long, because Joe couldnât hold back any longer about what was bothering him.
âHowâs your arm?â He wasnât smiling anymore, instead, he looked at you seriously and you couldnât tell if it was just concern, anger, or something else he was hiding.
âM-My arm? Oh, itâs fine.â You looked away from his gaze, your eyes now fixed on your hands, which were on the table, your fingers nervously tapping the surface.
âY/N⌠I saw it this morning.â
You took a deep breath and felt your throat tighten, as if someone had squeezed it, preventing anything from passing through, including your voice. You pulled the sleeve of your jacket off your injured arm and rested it on the table. The friction of the jacketâs fabric made the bruise hurt a little, but you were almost getting used to the pain. Joe stared at your arm, unable to look away for a good few seconds. You saw his jaw tightening, his breathing becoming heavier and it was as if something were taking over his brain at that very moment.
So you put your jacket back on. Pressing your lips together, you mumbled âIâm sorryâ so quietly that you thought Joe might not even have heard you.
Just then, the waiter came over with your orders, and you wondered if heâd seen the ugly bruise on your arm, and you felt ashamed. Your eyes felt heavy, you felt that if the waiter looked your way too much, you might start crying. But he didnât stare and soon moved away from the table.
âWhy are you apologizing?â Joe was still staring at you seriously, but now his eyes were a little more gentle.
âI-I⌠BecauseâŚâ You couldnât form a coherent thought. Why were you apologizing?
âThe one who should be apologizing is the jerk who did that. And I should have called security to get him." Joe fell silent, now staring at the coffee in front of him. âI was so worried that I just ran after you. I should have gone back and made that guy pay for what he did.â
Something changed at that moment. You donât know if it was the way Joe spoke or the way he looked at you, but something changed, and you didnât even know what it was or how to explain it.
âYou didnât have to do anything. Not even take me home⌠I felt so embarrassed. I still do, actually. It had been a long time since Iâd drank like I did yesterday.â You felt a weight lift off you as you admitted you were embarrassed. You were mortified. You wanted to dig a hole and stay inside it until you forgot everything. And it was while your thoughts were racing through your head that Joe took your handâthe one that was near the coffee cup on the table.
âI would never have forgiven myself if Iâd left you alone yesterday.â His eyes were soft now, he had a gentle smile on his lips and his hand was caressing yours. You smiled back at him, and he, seeing this as a way to put yesterdayâs events behind you, started asking you questions. He said he wanted to know everything about you. You laughed and answered some of the questions quickly, while others took you longer, telling stories and forgetting English words that could explain a specific situation or feeling. You talked about your families. You told stories about how your brother was a little too protective of you when you were a teenager, and Joe said he understood where your brother was coming from, since he himself had younger sisters to look after when he was a teenager. Joe laughed, then you asked him some questions too and he answered enthusiastically. His hands never stopped moving as he spoke, and you, resting your elbow on the table and your head in your hand, felt completely immersed in a world that seemed to belong only to you and him.
âOkay, but what about that ex of yoursâŚâ, He now adjusted himself in his chair, sitting up straighter and looking at you more directly. âI already told you about mine⌠What was he like?â He was silent for a few seconds. âSorry, Julia told me you had a jerk of a boyfriend before you moved to New York.â Joe took bites of the chocolate cake as he spoke.
âDifficult. He was difficult. He wasnât bad⌠He turned bad after a while. I canât quite explain it.â You had now started to get more serious, staring at your empty coffee mug, and as you spoke, Joe asked for another coffee for you.
âDifficult how?â
You thought about how to explain the six-year relationship youâd had with a guy you no longer knew.Â
âHe was jealous, but not in the sense that I couldnât have guy friends, but in the sense that I couldnât be more successful than him. I didnât tell him when I applied to come to New York. I didnât tell anyone. I only told him after I got in⌠And he hated it. He broke up with me the same day I told him.â You shrugged, acting as if that hadnât shattered you into a thousand pieces five months ago.
âHe was a son of a bitch, then. Not difficult. Difficult is⌠I donât know, solving a math problem. A guy like that is just a son of a bitch.â Joe was looking at you more seriously now too, but not in a bad wayâmaybe just wanting to see your reaction to his comment.
You took a sip of the fresh coffee the waiter had brought, and as you raised your cup, you agreed with Joe. âYeah, he was. And your ex was a real bitch, too, wasnât she?â
âDefinitely.â Joe laughed at your comment, and you gave him a little smile.
The hours passed and the sun began to set outside. It was almost dark when you decided to start walking toward your homes. On the way, your phone started ringing, and you apologized to Joe but explained that you had to answer because it was your brother. You moved to the corner of the sidewalk and Joe created a sort of barrier in front of you, shielding you from the noise and people on the street. Now, you spoke in your first language:
âHello? Is everything okay?â
âYes⌠Auntie, itâs not Dad.â You heard the laughter on the other end of the phone, which warmed your heart. You could picture your nephew stealing his fatherâs phone just to call you. You smiled to yourself, and Joe was watching you. He had the feeling that there was no way you could be more beautiful than you were right now, at this very moment.
âWhat happened, sweetheart?â After a few minutes, you hung up the phone.
âThat was hot.â You looked at Joe confused. âI mean, Iâm sure there wasnât anything hot about the conversation with your brotherâŚâ He started to blush and get all tangled up in his own words, and you, a little impressed by his ability to just keep talking, started to laugh a little. âItâs just that⌠Ah, you know⌠You were speaking another language and you were so focused⌠I donât know. Shut up.â At that moment, he started laughing a little embarrassed too, and you laughed even louder.
âSo, are you telling me you like it when women speak other languages?â you asked, now just to tease him a little. âYou know, I can talk dirty to you in several languages,â and now you started to blush a little. In your head, that sentence hadnât come across as flirtatious as it actually did.
Joe watched you with a smile on his face, almost delighted by the fact that you, apparently, had also gotten tangled up in your own words.
âAnd how many languages do you speak?â he asked, raising an eyebrow at you, still wearing a smile that was starting to make your knees go a little weak.
âFour. My first language, German, English and a little Spanish⌠Not to brag.â You felt your cheeks flush as Joeâs eyes studied you intently.
âWhy so many?â
âWell⌠English and Spanish were the basics; I learned them in school. I learned German in college⌠And I spent a semester in Germany doing my masterâs degree.âÂ
âSo, you really are a nerd?â Joe asked, laughing, and you made a shocked face, pushing him a little as you walked side by side now.
âLook whoâs talking⌠The man who can play a million instruments.â And then you both fell silent, smiling to yourselves, both satisfied with this moment, with this walk, with this day. Neither of you wanted it to end.Â
In the end, Joe asked what you had talked about with your brother and you explained that it was your nephew. He was 8 years old and wanted a new Lego set, and his dad had apparently told him that you were going to give it to him for Christmas. Of course, your brother had only said that to calm the boy down and then talk to you about it later.
Joe laughed and asked to see a photo of your nephew. You just held up your phone, showing him the lock screen. The photo showed a little boy with slight tan, standing at the beach, with a dog covered in sand, both with their tongues hanging out.Â
âOh, he looks so sweet.â You smiled at Joe and agreed, saying you didnât know it was possible to love a human being as much as you loved Gabe. Joe said he understood the feeling and showed you his lock screen photoâit was a girl, maybe a little older than Gabe, giving the middle finger, looking serious.Â
âI like her attitude,â you said, laughing. Joe told you that he also had nieces and nephews and that he also missed spending more time with them.
You kept walking until you reached the front of your building, where you started getting ready to say goodbye to Joe.
âLook⌠This week, Iâm playing two shows outside of New York and spending a few days visiting my family. But Iâll be back next Saturday. Can we see each other when I get back?â Joe had a boyish look on his face now, but he still didnât take his eyes off you.Â
âOh⌠You asked me out and now youâre going to run away?â You said, laughing, trying to hide a little of the disappointment you felt at having to wait so long to see him again. âOf course, Keery. We can see each other when you get back.â You hugged himâfor the first time, you took the initiative to hug himâand kissed him on the cheek. Joe didnât quite know how to react. It was as if his whole body was going into a frenzy. Then you entered your building and waved goodbye to him.Â
Joe stayed for a few more seconds, pulling himself together, and then went home, feeling at once like a teenager falling in love for the first time and the luckiest guy in New York.
Sorry Boyfriends and Teddy Bears
summary: gator tries his best to make up for making you upset, and you do your best to drag it out.
tags: gator is bad with emotions and pitiful and pathetic (whats new), reader is sensitive, reader has gator on a leash pretty much, lowkey ooc gator but shhh, briefly proofread
wc: 3.3k (got carried away whoops)
This was ridiculous. All because of stupid argument. Not even an argument.
All because of Gators stupid self saying something stupid just because he was frustrated after work.
And now being alone and being ignored for hours has Gator parking on the sidewalk outside your house at midnight.
He found out early on that even though you were shy, you got snappy too. You got mouthy with him, you had an attitude at times.
But heâd expect at least a goodnight text, no matter how annoyed youâd get with him in the past, youâd always send some sort of little text to remind him you were there, and that you were still upset.
Tonight, he got nothing. No call, no text, not even a little emoji, nothing.
hey!! i saw a fic like this but it was super duper short and i was kinda unsatisfied âšď¸âšď¸ i feel like you would do a great job writing this so im asking you!! can i request a fic where the party has to drive somewhere, it can be like during a crawl or it can just be to the movies, whatever you want! but there isnât enough room in the car so reader has to sit on steveâs lap and letâs just say it isnât easy for him hahaha
thanks so much!! i love your work with all my heartđđ talented is an understatement
Rocky Rides
Steve Harrington x fem!reader 1k words
Warnings: friends w feelings, suggestive, fluff, tension,
Through the chaos of a last minute rush, youâre forced to sit on Steveâs lap
âWe shouldâve left twenty minutes agoâweâre gonna miss the previews!â Mike screamed as everyone tried scrambling out of the house as quickly as they could.
âThen maybe you shouldâve been ready twenty minutes ago!â Steve yelled back, grabbing his jacket but still moving the slowest out of everyone.
mind you these are grown men in their thirties
Hiiii I donât know if requests are open but I canât stop thinking about history teacher Steve đ or Joe even, saw him answering a question about what heâd do if he wasnât famous and he said heâd probably be a teacher
But I think Steve would be secretly a history nerd and not even on purpose and I can totally see him becoming a teacher âšď¸ and and and English teacher reader
Lessons in dating history
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
⥠Main Index | ⥠Archive for Earth-0424
Classification: Fluff
Word count: 1,5k
Divider by me ;)
handsome boy i adore you
oh to be the kitty
youâll never see me skipping a vid of djo singing egg live