you have been dating joe for half a year now. even though you have been really careful and private about your relationship to protect both of you from the public eye, you two really wanted to try to be a normal couple and do couple things.
you were the most concerned about it, only because you weren’t a celebrity. joe understood that completely and always tried to protect you. but lately he had been talking a lot about the coachella lineup and how badly he wanted to go see the strokes with you, knowing you both loved them so much.
“i mean… we won’t stay too long if you don’t want to. just their set and then we go,” he said one random evening while you were lying on the couch. he had just come back from tour and you two had been stuck to each other ever since.
after thinking about it and getting completely melted by those doe eyes looking at you like a sad puppy, you finally said yes.
“i love you i love you i love you,” he repeated as he spread kisses all over your face and carefully got on top of you, supporting his weight on his arms. “you are such a dork,” you answered between smiles and giggles, just letting him because you love him.
now you were there, halfway through the strokes’ set. at first you were a little nervous, constantly glancing around to see if anyone was watching or filming you. joe noticed and started distracting you by hugging you and kissing you while singing the lyrics in a silly way in your ear. you relaxed instantly and began enjoying the music.
he hugged you from behind with his arms resting on your shoulders, gently swaying with you as a slow song played. you looked at him and he looked back. he instantly melted and gave you a warm and gentle kiss. he really was the most beautiful human you had ever met. his gaze went back to the stage but you just kept staring at him, at his messy hair escaping from under his balaclava and his beautiful face looking mesmerized by the sunrise.
once the set ended, the crowd started spreading out slowly and both of you felt more relaxed.
you turned around and hugged him with both arms. “don’t you think this is exciting in a way?”
“i thought you were against this.”
“i could get used to it… a little. i mean, i look good in these,” you said, modeling your hat and glasses for him with a silly kissy face.
he laughed and kissed your forehead. “you do, baby. too good actually.” he leaned in to kiss you again.
“joe, not here,” you whispered, looking around.
“oh, because hugging me with your face literally this close to mine doesn’t look compromising at all,” he teased.
you rolled your eyes but accepted his kiss anyway.
“you know, i never told you this but sometimes i wish you would just post a picture of us making out on your account so everybody knows you’re my boyfriend,” you said, your fingers running through the hair at the back of his neck.
“wow, that came from your possessive side, didn’t it?” he grinned, clearly happy with your words.
“why don’t we just do it now?” he looked around, then back at you with a naughty smile.
“are you serious?” you replied.
“really serious.”
you bit your lip and glanced around. his hands felt tighter on your lower back.
he noticed you were actually into it, so he slowly took off your hat and glasses, then pulled down his balaclava.
you smiled nervously. and then he kissed you.
he started slow and soft, but quickly deepened the kiss. you let his tongue enter your mouth as he took control, guiding the rhythm and changing sides.
suddenly you forgot about everything else, just him and you, his hands all over your body.
you stood on your tiptoes and grabbed his biceps. you felt him smile against your lips.
the kiss grew warm and wet. your tongue started tingling and the breeze felt like a relief against your skin. your bodies pressed close felt almost suffocating, but in the most addictive way.
suddenly you pulled apart, both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling as you looked at each other and smiled. reality came back and you instinctively scanned the area, a mix of excitement and adrenaline hitting you along with the worry of someone filming.
joe gently held your chin and made you look at him. “hey, don’t overthink it,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s go or i’m going to make sure they get more than just a kiss.”
you laughed and followed him, holding hands. he always had a way of making you forget about everything else.
🚨 NEW COUPLE ALERT? 📸@ deuxmoi.
Liked by popbase, popcrave and 1.1M others
View 357,000 commets
user7282 THIS CANT BE REAL??
joeekrystan ?!-!/!!//!$/
liin72882 The police is in front of your house asking you to delete
you’re obsessed with your boyfriend’s happy trail , and he knows it.
it’s no secret that joe loves seeing you on your knees for him. you’ve been dating for over a year now, and you’re still just as obsessed with each other as you were at the beginning.
but it’s obvious when he does things on purpose, like the cropped tees he wears because he knows how fixated you are on his happy trail. he’ll stretch his arms overhead while sitting on the studio couch in front of you, leaning back so you get the full view. and you don’t really have a choice but to slide between his knees, scatter soft kisses along that line of hair, and let him peel off his shirt so you can undo his belt and do your job properly.
-
you still remember the first time he lost it over your obsession. you were both really drunk that night, wine-flushed and heated, your cheeks red, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. he said he was going to the bathroom, when he came back you were already on all fours on the bed. he stepped closer, tilted your chin up with his fingers while you kissed his stomach, pushing his shirt higher as joe brushed your hair to the sides, giving you more room to move. he rolled his hips toward you slightly. “fuck,” he moaned, head tipping back. the wet sound of your kisses and the feel of your soft lips trailing lower to his pelvis made him realize there was no going back.
-
there was that one time he came home freshly shaved though, and you got instantly grumpy. the happy trail was gone, just smooth skin where you loved running your fingers and lips. you pouted the whole evening, barely touching him. he noticed right away, came up behind you in the kitchen, wrapped his arms around your waist, and started scattering little kisses along your neck and shoulder. “omg babe, it was for a movie shoot, i swear. it’ll grow back soon, you know my hair grows fast.” his voice was soft, teasing but sweet, lips brushing your ear as he hugged you tighter from behind, rocking you gently until your grumpiness melted. you turned in his arms eventually, still a little sulky, but he just grinned and kissed your forehead, promising you could have it all back in a couple weeks.
-
you used to get so jealous of everyone who got to see him like that on stage, sweaty in those short t-shirts, happy trail visible when he moved under the lights, or when he lifted his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead and face. that’s why now, whenever he wants you, even right after a show, you don’t waste time. he just has to pull off his shirt and give you that knowing grin, and you’re crawling to him, kissing and nipping softly at his stomach, tasting the salt of his sweat, smiling every time he groans or whimpers. after sex, you rest your head on his belly, listening to his breathing even out, falling asleep to the slow rise and fall beneath you.
-
he knows it’s your comfort place now. on really bad days, he just sits on the couch, legs spread, waiting for you to come over and lay your head on his stomach. he strokes your hair so gently you never even finish the movie or show, you just drift off, calm and safe.
includes: bf material, fluffy comfort, joe being the sweetest person ever, anesthesia silliness, teasing, soft cuddles, forehead kisses, clingy post-surgery affection.
the nurse had barely wheeled you out of the procedure room when the anesthesia hit its peak. your eyes were half-lidded, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, and a little trail of drool threatening to escape the corner of your mouth. joe was already standing right there in the recovery area, arms crossed, wearing that fond, amused smile he saved just for you.
you blinked slowly at him, then your face crumpled.
“i want my boyfriend,” you mumbled, voice thick and lispy from the gauze. “where’s my boyfriend? i need him…”
joe’s eyebrows shot up, eyes sparkling with mischief even as he stepped closer and gently brushed a stray hair from your forehead.
“hey, sweetheart. i’m right here,” he said softly, voice warm like honey.
you squinted at him, clearly not computing. “nooo… my boyfriend. he’s tall… and has fluffy hair… and he smells really good. i want him.”
joe bit his lip to keep from laughing. he pulled up the chair beside your recovery bed and took your hand, thumb stroking over your knuckles.
“sounds like a great guy. what’s his name?” he asked, all innocent.
you made a little frustrated noise. “joe… my joe. he’s the best. he always brings me snacks and lets me steal his hoodies and… and he kisses my forehead when i’m sleepy.”
joe’s heart did a full cartoon flip. he leaned in closer, still teasing. “does he? wow. he sounds kinda perfect. better than me?”
you nodded seriously, eyes glassy. “way better. he’s mine. you’re nice but… i want my boyfriend.”
the nurse in the corner was pretending not to smile as she checked your vitals.
joe chuckled under his breath and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, careful around the swollen cheeks. “alright, baby. i’ll go find him for you. just rest, okay?”
you hummed happily, already drifting again, fingers weakly clutching his shirt like you knew exactly who he was even if your brain was currently offline.
—
a couple hours later you were home, tucked into bed after joe carried you in. you’d fallen asleep curled against him, and when you woke up you were completely tangled together—your leg thrown over his, face buried in his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your waist while his fingers played lazily with your hair.
you blinked slowly, wincing at the ache in your jaw. “how long was i out…?”
joe smiled down at you, voice warm. “a while. you feeling okay, baby?”
you nodded, then noticed the amused little smirk on his face. “what? why are you looking at me like that?”
he chuckled softly and brushed some hair away from your forehead. “you don’t remember anything from recovery, huh?”
“…no. what did i do?”
“you kept asking for your boyfriend,” he said, eyes sparkling with teasing. “told the guy holding your hand, ME, that you wanted your real boyfriend because he’s tall with nice fluffy hair and brings you snacks—”
your eyes widened in horror and you immediately buried your face against his chest with a muffled groan. “oh my god,” you mumbled again, careful of your sore jaw. “please tell me you’re joking.”
joe laughed quietly, his chest vibrating under your cheek as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “baby, you literally looked me in the eyes and told me i was nice, but not as nice as your real boyfriend.”
“stop,” you whined, hiding even more. “i was drugged.”
“mhm.” he pressed a kiss into your hair. “and apparently very loyal.”
you let out another embarrassed noise while he grinned down at you, clearly enjoying every second of this.
“i’m serious, the nurse was trying so hard not to laugh,” he added. “you kept talking about my hair like i was some celebrity crush.”
that finally pulled a reluctant laugh out of you, even though it made your jaw ache a little. “okay, enough. i get it.”
“no, wait,” joe continued dramatically, tightening his hold when you tried to escape. “‘he brings me snacks,’” he quoted in a dreamy voice. “‘he kisses my forehead when i’m sleepy—’”
“joe!”
he broke into laughter while you hid your burning face against his neck again, and after a second his teasing softened into something gentler. his fingers slid slowly through your hair as he smiled into the top of your head.
“for the record,” he murmured, quieter now, “i liked hearing you talk about me like that.”
your expression softened immediately.
even half-conscious and completely out of it, you’d still reached for him first. and judging by the way joe was holding you now, warm, close, almost a little protective, it had clearly meant more to him than he was pretending.
you tilted your head just enough to look up at him, smiling shyly despite the swelling in your cheeks. “well… it’s true.”
something in joe’s expression softened even further at that, the teasing finally melting away completely. he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a second.
“i’m never recovering from this,” you groaned dramatically.
he laughed softly and pulled you even closer against him, like he couldn’t help it. “good. i’m gonna accept the title of real boyfriend from now on.”
“oh my god,” you muttered into his shirt, already smiling again while he buried another fond kiss in your hair.
i just wanted to post some fluffy content<33, let me know what you think:)
summary: you never expected steve harrington to notice you, but after one clumsy hallway collision, he starts showing up everywhere, quietly constant, patient, turning all your firsts into something soft, safe, and yours.
tw: MDNI, 18+. explicit sexual content. soft & sweet steve. no proofread. english is not my first language.
a/n: this is a really old post i had sitting in my drafts and i wasn’t sure about posting it… but since i haven’t been as constant as i want lately, it’s yours now🙂
you’d never really been the kind of girl people noticed first. you kept to yourself, spent more time with books than at parties, and liked it that way. getting tangled up with steve harrington was never something you expected.
it started after you overslept from staying up too late reading. you were hurrying down the hallway, half awake and clutching your books to your chest, when you ran straight into someone.
strong hands caught your arms before you could hit the floor.
“hey, easy there,” steve said with a small laugh, steadying you.
your face went hot instantly. “sorry,” you mumbled before slipping away as fast as you could.
you figured that would be the end of it.
except after that, steve started noticing you everywhere. he’d stop you in the halls just to talk for a minute. he started sitting beside you at lunch like it was the most natural thing in the world. your friends wouldn’t stop teasing you about it, but you kept insisting it didn’t mean anything.
until he offered you a ride home one afternoon.
until you found a folded note in your locker saying he liked your skirts.
until one night, with an uncharacteristically nervous smile, he asked if he could take you out somewhere real.
and somehow, you said yes.
after that, everything seemed to happen all at once.
first kiss
it happened on your front porch after he walked you home from the movies. the night was warm, crickets humming, and you were rambling about how the ending didn’t make sense when steve stepped closer, one hand gentle on your waist.
“you’re overthinking it,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek.
“i overthink everything.”
his smile was slow. “yeah. i know.”
then he kissed you—soft at first, almost careful, like he knew it was your first and didn’t want to scare you. his lips were warm, tasting faintly of popcorn and mint. when he pulled back, eyes dark, you felt dizzy.
“was that… okay?” he asked.
you bit your lips, heart hammering. “do it again and i’ll tell you.”
he laughed softly and did.
first date (that actually felt real)
mini-golf, because steve insisted it was “classic.” you were terrible at it. he was annoyingly good, but he kept “accidentally” bumping your hip, whispering terrible tips just to make you laugh. when you finally sank a hole-in-one on the windmill, he cheered like you’d won the olympics and kissed you right there under the neon lights.
later, in his car, parked at the lookout, he held your hand across the console. his thumb traced circles on your skin.
“i like this,” he said quietly. “taking it slow. with you.”
your cheeks burned. “you don’t have to. i know you’ve—”
“hey.” he turned your face toward him gently. “i want this to be special. we don’t have to rush anything.”
first time he stayed over
your parents were out of town. you’d made cookies (burnt the first batch), and you watched a horror movie even though you hated them. steve pulled you into his lap when you hid your face in his chest during the scary parts, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.
when the movie ended, the air felt thicker. you were both on your bed, facing each other.
“you’re nervous,” he observed, brushing hair from your eyes.
“a little.”
“we don’t have to do anything.”
“i want to.” your voice was small but sure. “i really want you.”
he kissed you for a long time—deep, slow kisses that made your toes curl. clothes came off gradually. his hands were gentle, reverent, mapping every new inch of skin like it was sacred. when his mouth moved lower, you gasped his name, fingers threading through his hair.
“steve—”
“relax, baby. i’ve got you.”
he took his time. whispered praises against your thigh, your stomach, your neck. when he finally slid inside you, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked, it stung for a moment. he stilled, breathing ragged.
“you okay?”
you nodded, pulling him closer. “don’t stop.”
he moved carefully, murmuring how perfect you felt, how beautiful you were, how he’d never wanted anyone like this. the pain faded into warmth, then pleasure that built until you shattered around him, clinging tight. he followed soon after, burying his face in your neck.
afterward, he held you against his chest, stroking your hair.
first time you initiated
weeks later, you pushed him back onto his bed in his empty house, straddling his lap with shaky confidence. he looked up at you, surprised and so turned on his eyes were almost black.
“you sure?”
you nodded, leaning down to kiss him.
you explored him with your hands and mouth, learning what made his breath hitch and his hips jerk. steve guided you gently when you needed it, voice hoarse with praise—“just like that, sweetheart… fuck, you’re so good.”
when you sank down onto him, taking control, his hands gripped your thighs, eyes never leaving your face. you moved together, learning the rhythm that made you both moan. he sat up halfway, wrapping his arms around you, mouths crashing as you came together.
all the firsts after that
there were so many more. first time in his car (rushed and giggling). first time in the shower (soapy hands and laughter turning into gasps). first time you told him you loved him—right after, when you were tangled and sweaty and he kissed your forehead like you were precious.
steve never made you feel behind. he made every new thing feel like an adventure you were sharing.
one night, months later, curled up together, he traced lazy patterns on your bare shoulder.
“all your firsts,” he said quietly. “i want them. but i want all your nexts too. and the ones after that.”
omg queen i loved your “i want my boyfriend post” like it was pure gold 😭
if you feel comfortable and don’t mind, could you do it again but where the roles are reversed and Joe is the one drugged up?😭💕
do you have a boyfriend?
joe keery x reader
includes: anesthesia silliness, flirting, clingy post-surgery joe, teasing, soft cuddles, forehead kisses, joe falling in love with you all over again while drugged, and you trying not to laugh through all of it.
the nurse had barely finished explaining the aftercare instructions when joe started blinking at you like he’d just discovered something life-changing.
his pupils were huge.
his curls were flattened awkwardly on one side from the procedure cap, and there was gauze stuffed into one cheek while he stared at you with intense concentration, like he was trying to solve a mystery.
you were sitting beside his recovery bed, already trying not to laugh.
“hey,” he said suddenly.
“hey, baby.”
his eyebrows furrowed.
“wow.”
you blinked. “what?”
he leaned closer very slowly, like the movement required all his remaining brainpower.
“you’re… really pretty.”
you immediately pressed your lips together.
the nurse coughed into her clipboard to hide a smile.
“thank you,” you said carefully.
joe kept staring.
then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“do you have a boyfriend?”
that finally broke you.
you laughed softly, reaching over to fix one of his flattened curls. “yeah, actually.”
his face dropped in genuine disappointment.
“seriously?”
“seriously.”
joe stared at you for another long second before shaking his head slightly like he disagreed with the information.
“that’s unfortunate.”
you laughed harder this time.
“unfortunate?”
“yeah.” his voice came out muffled and sleepy from the gauze. “because i was gonna ask you out.”
the nurse fully turned away now, shoulders shaking.
you bit down on your smile. “is that so?”
he nodded very seriously.
“you seem funny.” he squinted at you. “and nice. i like your face.”
“baby, you are literally on pain medication right now,” you laughed.
“and?” he asked immediately. “i still have eyes.”
you had to look away for a second before the grin on your face got completely out of control.
joe watched you like he’d just said the smartest thing in human history.
then, after a pause—
“your boyfriend sounds dumb.”
your eyes widened. “don’t be rude! he’s actually really nice.”
“where is he?” he asked, looking around the recovery room dramatically. “why would he leave you alone looking like that?”
“looking like what?”
he gestured vaguely toward you with sleepy determination.
“pretty.”
your entire face went hot instantly.
“okay,” you laughed, “you’re flirting with me while wearing a hospital bib.”
“is it working?” he mumbled confidently.
the nurse snorted loudly this time.
you shook your head, trying to stop laughing while joe kept staring at you with painfully affectionate concentration.
then his expression softened suddenly.
“seriously though,” he murmured quieter now, reaching clumsily for your hand. “your boyfriend should be here.”
your chest tightened a little despite yourself.
you squeezed his fingers gently. “he is here.”
joe frowned immediately.
“no, he isn’t.”
“yes, he is.”
“i think i would remember being your boyfriend,” he whispered very seriously.
you completely lost it after that, laughing so hard you had to cover your face with your sleeve.
joe looked deeply pleased with himself.
—
a couple hours later, you finally got him home.
which had been significantly harder than expected because joe had apparently lost all ability to walk in a straight line after the anesthesia.
now he was stretched across the couch in one of his hoodies, half asleep under a blanket while you brought him water.
his eyes followed you immediately the second you walked back into the room.
“there she is,” he mumbled.
you handed him the glass carefully. “how are we feeling?”
“much better. i think it wasn’t that bad.”
you choked on your own breath.
joe blinked slowly up at you.
“what?” he asked, suddenly looking nervous.
“what did i do?” he added quickly, starting to panic a little.
you sat down beside him, already laughing again while he grinned lazily against the couch cushion.
“you spent the last hour flirting with me like we were strangers.”
his eyebrows pulled together slightly.
“what do you mean?”
“you were literally calling me pretty and trying to ask me out even after i told you i have a boyfriend. aka you.”
he stared at you for another second before his eyes widened in realization.
“what?” he said, blushing slightly in embarrassment.
“yeah, baby. i couldn’t stop laughing because you were so committed to it.”
“oh my god,” he muttered, sounding genuinely horrified. “what did you answer?”
“i kept telling you i had a boyfriend, but you were really determined and kept calling him an idiot.”
he leaned back against the couch cushion, looking completely overwhelmed by the information.
“i was really loyal though, by the way. i didn’t give you my number even though you asked like ten times.”
“oh, shut up,” he said, dragging you toward him.
you settled carefully into his lap, still laughing.“i don’t know if i should be offended because you forgot about me.”
“i literally fell in love with you again while i was drugged,” he said.
a laugh slipped out of you immediately.
“that’s… definitely one way of seeing it.” you brushed your fingers gently through his messy curls, smiling when he immediately leaned into the touch without even opening his eyes.
“lets go to sleep.”
he smiled faintly.
“only if you stay.”
“i’m staying.”
“good,” he mumbled sleepily. “would’ve stolen your number if i had more time,” he added teasingly.
you can tell you are obsessed with joe’s moles, and he knows that.
when you’re in bed with joe, your head resting on his chest, your fingers trail slowly across his abdomen. they trace gentle circles around the moles scattered like stars over his skin. he stays focused on whatever show you are watching, yet you can still feel his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, relaxed under your touch. at night, his breathing gradually softens, his eyes fluttering shut as a subtle smile settles on his lips before he finally falls asleep.
he truly loves your soothing caress sessions, even though he never admits it. every time you go to bed, or before taking a nap, he slips his shirt off without hesitation, already expecting your hands on his skin.
he has the habit of lying on his stomach when he is too tired to find a comfortable position to sleep. so, when you want to wake him from his heavy rest, you scatter small kisses over the tiny dots on his warm, soft skin. he responds with quiet whines and soft sounds of satisfaction, slowly stirring until he finally moves, pulling you closer and pressing a lazy kiss to your lips before getting out of bed.
you take any chance you get to do it.
when the two of you are sprawled on the couch, you take his arm and trace absent-minded lines between the little sparkles.
and during those random, silly conversations, you find yourself pointing at the moles on his face and neck, leaving soft pecks in their place.
“you are not listening to me, this is a serious matter,” he said, holding your chin up so you look at him.
“i am listening, joe — my ears are here,” you replied sarcastically, pointing them out. “it’s not my fault you distract me.”
“also, we are having a conversation about which type of berries are your favorites, and there’s not much to talk about,” you added.
“be serious, frozen berries and natural berries are not the same,” joe said.
“they literally taste the same.”
“they do not!” you laughed because you love to annoy him, and he laughed because he loves when you do it.
and then you continue with your very important activity while he keeps yapping about random things.
really short but i wanted to write abt joe so bad😭
summary: months after a messy breakup, you end up at lollapalooza with your best friend, front row, right in front of the one person you were trying to forget.
warnings: a lot of angst. ex boyfriend joe. breakup, arguing. messy relationship. happy ending. hannah dodd reader’s bff face claim. english is not my first language.
you and joe broke up months ago. the distance and silence had hollowed you both out until you were the one who ended it. you weren’t on good terms after. you’d tried to talk, but the truth was you hated the decision the second it left your mouth.
-
everything had already slipped, no more random selfies from soundcheck, no late-night video calls where he’d fall asleep mid-sentence, no little gifts waiting in hotel rooms. just proof-of-life texts that turned passive-aggressive and then vicious.
-
you: hi i arrived
joe: great, text me later
-1 hour-
you: having dinner, what about you?
-2 hours-
joe: sorry i was at the studio
joe: must be past midnight there, good night
seen
-
joe: rehearsing tonight but wanna go out for dinner later?
you: i have a meeting early tomorrow joe, i told you yesterday.
you: if you hadn’t canceled last friday’s dinner we could’ve gone out before, i can’t rn
joe: i told you to go anyways and you said no
you: are you serious? you said you were too tired
joe: but i would’ve gone even if i was tired if you had told me you really wanted it
you: we’ll talk later im going to bed
you: good night
seen
-
you still loved him so much it felt violent. but love had started hurting more than it healed. every glance turned sharp, every night in the same bed felt like separate continents. the last morning proved it.
“have you seen my guitar case?” joe asked from the doorway, already packed for tour. the question landed like a slap. you didn’t know if the sick twist in your stomach was dread of another month apart or rage that he could act normal.
“i don’t think it’s here,” you answered without looking up from your book. “probably at one of your friends’ houses. you’re there more than here anyway.”
he sighed like you’d punched him. “why are you like this right now? when i’m literally leaving?”
“because you’re never here!” the words tore out. “it’s impossible to talk to you anymore. i wake up alone, you come home at 3 a.m., i’m exhausted, you want to go out, i try to talk, you say we’ll talk later. it’s fucking exhausting, joe.”
“if it’s that exhausting, why wait until i’m heading to the other side of the country?” his voice cracked. “you basically just said you hate me. what the hell are we supposed to do now?”
“i didn’t say i hate you.” you stood, eyes burning. “i said i don’t recognize us. and don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”
“of course i have.” he stepped in, took your hands, voice breaking. “but i still love you. i do. i swear i do.”
“i love you too,” you choked, tears spilling the second he said it, words you hadn’t heard in so long they felt foreign. “but i can’t keep hurting us. i think… we need a break.”
that evening he left from the doorway, both of you red-eyed and completely empty, the most honest you’d been in months.
-
five months later you still couldn’t delete his number. you muted his friends, filled your nights with plans, told yourself you were fine because he looked happy on stage. but every picture still punched the air from your lungs.
you were tired of always saying yes to plans, but work had finally settled. you’d gotten a promotion and more control over your schedule.
your best friend hannah had been begging to go to lollapalooza with you this summer, the lineup just dropped and she was buzzing.
the only thing holding you back? joe was performing on one of the stages she wanted to hit for her favorite acts.
you kept delaying your answer until she called you out.
“are you telling me all this suspense is because of joe?” she asked, half-indignant.
“probably,” you admitted with an apologetic smile, hoping she’d understand.
“are you kidding me, right ? he’s not gonna see you. do you know there’ll be more than 70k people there? what are the odds?”
after ten more minutes of her convincing pep talk, you caved—praying you wouldn’t be the unlucky one.
lollapalooza day one
you were deep in the crowd when your phone lit up.
djotime liked your story - 2 secs ago
djotime liked your story - 7 secs ago
“what the fuck whatthefuckwhathefuck—” hannah whipped around instantly. “what happened?”
“he just liked my stories. I told you this was a bad idea. I’m gonna faint if I see him, I’m literally not ready.”
“calm down, please. we’ve been here six hours, we’re not missing charli just because of your unresolved ex drama, okay? just forget him.
“there’s like a hundred thousand people here. he’s not gonna find you.” she grabbed your hands, matching your dramatic reaction.
you believed her. mostly. but a small, secret part of you really wanted him to.
you’d accidentally seen a tiktok scroll—he was blonde now. “blond looks so good on him,” the caption read. and yeah, you secretly agreed.
hannah had pushed you close to the barricade—“best spot, trust me”—so you didn’t move forward. you were glad; it wasn’t dead center.
-
instruments rolled onto the stage. you spotted wes and javier—joe’s bandmates and friends—and nerves hit hard.
the screens shifted from black to the djo logo in that exact font you remembered. he’d shown you those visuals once, arms wrapped around you from behind on the couch while some movie played ignored in the background. his voice had been right by your ear, soft but buzzing with excitement as he held his phone out. you hadn’t even really looked at the screen for long, you were too busy smiling at how much it meant to him, too busy leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek just to feel the way he’d grin.
back then, everything about him had felt close. easy.
you’re pulled from your thoughts as the first chords ring out.
the crowd erupts. you looked around at everyone losing it, pure joy, and felt a quiet happiness for him. he was doing what he loved, and people loved it back. you wished you could tell him how proud you were.
screams swelled. people shoved forward, phones up. then he walked on, full energy, guitar slung low, looking unfairly good in those classic jeans and the tight black t-shirt that hugged his biceps and armpits in ways that should be illegal.
you felt out of place amid everyone screaming lyrics you knew by heart. hannah bobbed to the beat but kept checking on you.
he was magnetic on stage, voice, movements, the way he shaped every word. you’d almost forgotten how devastatingly attractive he was after all these months. it hit like ice water.
you caught yourself biting your lip watching his hips move, his hands on the strings, memories of how those hands felt on you flooding back.
he pulled off his black sunglasses. crowd roared.
he scanned the front row during an instrumental, guitar still playing, searching.
then he froze.
stopped playing entirely. wes glanced up from the drums.
joe stared straight at you, intense, unblinking. you managed a small, nervous smile. he grinned back, quick and real, before snapping back to reality, mouthing “sorry” to wes and diving back in.
watch him move like nothing’s changed. watch the way he smiles, the way he loses himself in it, the same way he used to when he’d play you unfinished songs in the quiet of your room.
it’s familiar in the worst way, close enough to touch, but not yours anymore.
the set rolled on, but he didn’t forget. he kept glancing your way, trying to play it cool with his usual stage flair.
and then it’s over.
the last note fades, the lights shift, and the crowd is still buzzing when he looks up, again.
for a second, everything stalls.
too loud. too quiet. too much.
someone calls him from the side of the stage— the next set.
he doesn’t want to go. you can see it—in the way he lingers, in the way his body turns before he’s ready, like he’s being pulled away from something he hasn’t finished with.
and you don’t want him to go either.
not like this. not when it feels so final it almost knocks the air out of you.
you just stand there, separated by a stage, by people.
he looks at you like he’s trying to memorize you.
then they call him again, louder this time.
and he goes.
he has to.
but even as he walks off, even as he disappears past the lights and the noise swallows him whole, he looks back.
just once.
hannah’s arms wrap around you before you can even process it. she doesn’t say anything when she notices the tear slipping down your cheek—just holds you a little tighter, like she knows there’s nothing she could say that wouldn’t make it worse.
then the lights hit.
harsh. blinding. a complete shift.
the next set starts, the one your friend had been waiting for all night, and the energy crashes into you without warning.
the music is louder, brighter, too alive for how you feel. still, you let it take you. let the set swallow you whole, moving, dancing like maybe if you don’t stop, you won’t have to feel it. like you can outrun the ache sitting heavy in your chest.
but it doesn’t work.
-
somewhere in the middle of it, a hand taps your shoulder.
you turn, disoriented, and find a security guard leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.
“someone from backstage wants to see you,” he says, pointing toward the right side of the stage.
“it’s right there. if you want to go, i’ll help you cross the barricade and guide you.”
you blink at him, the words not fully landing.
“i don’t mind if you go,” hannah adds, smiling softly. “you already helped me push through to the barricade.”
the guard hesitates for a second, then adds, almost like he shouldn’t, “if it helps you decide… he looked desperate.”
and that’s it.
you don’t even remember agreeing. one second you’re standing there, the next you’re being guided through, hands steadying you as you pass the barricade.
“let her through, she feels bad,” the guard says to the others, the lie slipping past unnoticed.
you barely register any of it.
your head is too full. thoughts colliding, heart racing too fast, that same feeling from before tightening in your chest, but sharper now, louder.
by the time you realize where you are, the music has dulled into a distant thrum.
a hallway.
and at the end of it, a door.
his name sits right in the center.
you stop.
the guard glances at you, then knocks when you don’t move, like he already knows you won’t.
the door opens.
and there he is.
messy hair, like he’s been running his hands through it one too many times. eyes bright, too bright, like there’s something restless sitting behind them. a small smile showing up.
for a moment, neither of you says anything.
you just stand there, inches apart.
the noise of the festival fades into nothing as you step inside, the door closing softly behind you, cutting the world out, leaving just the two of you and everything you never got to say.
“hi,” he says, like it hasn’t been this long. like he didn’t just walk away from you under a thousand lights.
your throat tightens. “hi.”
“i saw you,” he says after a second, voice quieter now. “during the set.”
“i know.”
“i didn’t think i could find you. i’m sure i looked crazy searching for you in the crowd,” he lets out a small laugh.
“a little bit,” you say, hiding a smile.
“listen, i’ll be honest with you.” he pauses. “i know you might think this is so weird—it’s the first time we’ve seen each other since—”
you tense. he notices, instantly more nervous.
“since that day,” he says it.
.“and… i didn’t want that to be it,” he adds.
“just seeing you like that and then—” he gestures vaguely toward the stage, the world outside, everything that pulled him away. “leaving again.”
your chest tightens at the word.
again.
“you’re always leaving,” you say before you can stop yourself.
the second it’s out, you wish you could take it back.
but he just nods.
“i know.”
no defensiveness. no argument. no turning it around on you.
just that.
and somehow that hurts more than every fight you had.
you let out a shaky breath, looking away. “you didn’t even fight me on it.”
he frowns slightly. “on what?”
“the break,” you say, your voice cracking despite how much you try to steady it.
that’s been sitting in your chest for months. rotting there.
his expression shifts, something heavier settling in.
“i did,” he says quietly.
you look back at him, confused. “when?”
“that morning,” he answers. “i told you i loved you.”
“that’s not the same as fighting for us, joe.”
his jaw tightens. “what did you want me to do? beg you to stay when you were crying and saying you were hurting me?”
“yes,” you say, too fast, too honest. “maybe i did.”
that lands.
hard.
because it’s true.
“you think i didn’t want to?” he asks, voice low. “you think i didn’t want to get on my knees and ask you not to leave me?”
your breath catches.
“but you looked so sure,” he continues. “and i—” he swallows, shaking his head. “i’d already been fucking everything up. i thought… maybe letting you go was the only thing i could do right.”
your eyes burn.
“that’s not what i wanted,” you whisper.
“I know that now,” he says. “i didn’t then.”
the distance between you suddenly feels too small.
“you stopped trying. you’d disappear for hours. days sometimes.”
“i couldn’t—” his voice softens. “i couldn’t stand the way we were living. it felt like a nightmare. i thought you didn’t want me there. we barely spoke… we both knew we were doing everything wrong, but we weren’t doing anything to fix it.”
“i was trying to keep up with everything and i kept failing at the one thing that actually mattered.”
that hits harder than it should.
“you made me feel like I was asking for too much,” you say. your voice breaking on the last word.
“you weren’t,” he answers immediately.
there’s a pause.
“you stopped letting me in too.”
you close your eyes for a second. “because it hurt.”
“i know.”
everything comes back to that.
you both knew.
you both just… didn’t fix it.
the silence that follows isn’t empty. it’s full of understanding that came too late.
outside, the music pulses faintly through the walls. a reminder that time is still moving.
“I have to go back soon,” he says, barely above a whisper.
of course he does.
he always does.
“we have an interview in thirty minutes.” he adds.
you nod, even though it feels like something in your chest is caving in. “it’s ok.”
but neither of you moves.
not yet.
because this—
this is the first real conversation you’ve had in months.
not anger. not distance.
just truth.
“I messed it up,” he breaks the silence. “i thought if i just kept pushing through everything else, we’d… survive it. but you’re not something l can put on pause and come back to when it’s convenient.”
“I’m done doing that,” he adds, quieter now. “to you. to us. If there is an ‘us.’” he swallows.
“i’m not doing this because i just wanted to see if you still hate me or not.” he pauses, then adds with a small giggle, “a part of me knew there was a possibility that the guard would come back saying you told me to fuck off.”
you can’t hold back a laugh. he always does that—finds a way to make you laugh, even in the worst moments.
“i could never hate you, joe,” you finally say. “it hurt seeing your life through pictures and videos, but i loved seeing you happy. that’s all i ever wanted.”
“but… things are different now.” you add, fingers fidgeting at your sides.
“and I can’t do the whole disappearing thing again,” you continue. “the not answering, the half-conversations… i won’t do it.”
“you won’t have to.”
“I’m scared it’ll end the same way,” you whisper.
“me too.” “but we know what went wrong now,” he adds. “we didn’t then. we just kept hurting each other without even realizing how bad it got.”
your chest tightens.
“you’re on tour,” you say, like a reality check. “that hasn’t changed.”
“no,” he nods. “but I can.”
you don’t answer right away.
because this is the part where it used to fall apart. promises made too quickly. words that sounded right but never quite held.
“ i’m not asking you to just, jump back in,” he says, like he can read it all over your face. “i know i don’t get that. i just…” he hesitates, then lets it out anyway, “i don’t want five months from now to look like this again. running into you somewhere and pretending we don’t still—”
he stops himself.
but you both know.
still love each other.
“neither do i,” you admit.
“we were good before everything got messy,” you say. “not perfect. but… good.”
he steps closer—not too much, just enough.
“we can be better” he replies. another step closer.
you let out a slow breath.
“i miss you. i’ve missed you… not just since i left—since everything fell apart.”
“i miss everything about you. i wrote songs about you—so many of them. and i could keep writing forever, because it’s the only place i have to put all the love i had…”
he swallows, his face inching closer to yours.
“…and still have.”
“joe…” is all you manage to whisper.
“i’m not going to make promises, i know you hate that” he murmurs. “i’m going to show you—with my actions. every day, every second… just let me.”
“okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.
his brows pull together slightly. “okay?”
“okay,” you repeat, a little steadier this time.
“but we have to go slow. like… actually slow.”
relief flickers across his face.
“yeah,” he nods quickly. “slow is good. slow is…really good.”
a small smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it.
he notices. he’s just staring at your lips. you step closer, your hands now resting on his shoulders.
he takes it as an indication, you used to do that very often: step closer, hands resting there, looking at him just so he’d melt into your mouth softly. so he remembers. he remembers everything about you, he always does.
and he kisses you. first soft, then deeper. his hands don’t waste time, settling on your lower back, your hands running through his hair.
a knock echoes faintly from outside, followed by a voice calling his name.
you separate slowly. he exhales, glancing at the door, then back at you.
“i really do have to go.”
you nod, but this time it doesn’t feel like an ending.
“go,” you say softly.
he squeezes your hand once, like he doesn’t quite want to let go, but he does.
“I’ll be back in 30 minutes,” he says.
you raise a brow slightly. “you better.”
a hint of a grin breaks through. “yeah. i better.”
he takes a step back, then another, reluctant, but lighter somehow.
at the door, he pauses.
looks at you again.
and then he goes.
you bite your lip, still feeling his touch on them, but knowing that it wasn’t the last time.
Joe keery and actress! reader respond to fan comments
You and Joe are squeezed together on a tiny couch in the middle of a bright, chaotic press room, phones propped up on stands, ring lights glaring. It’s one of those viral “celebrities read thirst tweets / fan comments” segments that studios love to film during press tours.
The camera guy gives you both a thumbs-up. You’re in your oversized striped sweater and a short black skirt, brown boots kicked up casually. Joe’s in a tan suede jacket over a black button-up, black pants. His arm is slung along the back of the couch behind you, fingers occasionally brush the stripe on your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Alright, let’s do this,” Joe says, grinning at the camera. “We’re answering your comments. Be nice… or don’t. We can take it.”
You laugh and lean into his side, elbowing him lightly. “Speak for yourself.”
“Sorry, babe.” “Be respectful, there’s a lady here,” he says, and you grin while doing an “I’m watching you” sign to the camera. He drops that word unconsciously; but now you’re already used to all the theories and edits about you both.
Since the season dropped, the internet has been filled with videos of you two. Not only from season 5 of Stranger Things, but also from press, carpets, backstage. People know something is happening between you and Joe, but can’t prove it. Since the incident in that bathroom, and after clarifying things at Maya’s wedding, you’ve been really careful, but you can’t deny the tension and natural chemistry you both have.
The first few comments are easy: fans screaming about Steve and your character’s slow-burn, edits of your scenes set to Taylor Swift, etc. You both play it up, trading fake-shy glances and shoulder bumps. Then the producer holds up the next phone.
Joe reads it out loud, his voice dropping into that playful narrator tone he does for the camera:
“‘Okay but that TikTok of y/n and Drew Starkey dancing with the rest of the cast of her next movie?? Giving siblings or dating vibes.’” He turns his head, looking at you. “What does that mean?”
“I forgot you’re chronically offline, omg,” you tease. “It’s like we look alike but also could be a couple. I hope I explained it well and it doesn’t sound strange,” you add, laughing at the camera.
You try to act normal at the mention of your co-star. You don’t get nervous because you and Drew are just friends, but seeing how Joe reacts will be funny, so you keep a relaxed vibe anyway.
“I think I got it,” he says, pausing and furrowing his eyebrows just to make it funnier.
He reads the next comment; this time it’s a screenshot of the same video, but only you and Drew dancing. “‘The chemistry is insaneee!! Drop a romcom already, I’m begging.’” He puts on a fake high-pitched, enthusiastic voice, subtly making fun of it. You know him too well not to notice he didn’t like that one.
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “They’re not wrong. Drew’s a great dance partner.”
Joe leans forward, elbows on his knees, but his arm stays looped behind you, fingers now playing with the hem of your hoodie. “Hold up, though. You already had your first romcom moment with me!” he says, faking indignation.
“We did the whole ‘enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, almost-kiss in the rain’ thing, that’s enough.”
The crew laughs off-camera. You swat his chest, but you’re grinning.
Joe keeps going, dead serious for the bit, pointing at the camera like he’s making a public service announcement. “So, respectfully, Drew, amazing guy, incredible dancer, love the man, but she’s already spoken for. Property of Steve Harrington.” He continues, “Hands off. All of you. This is her romcom era and I called dibs first.”
You burst out laughing, your head falling against his shoulder. “Oh my god, you did not just say that on camera.”
“I did,” he says, turning to look at you, your faces way too close. His nose almost brushes yours. “And I stand by it. You’re mine in every universe where we get a spin-off.”
You tilt your head, eyes sparkling, and poke his cheek. “Careful, Keery. People are gonna clip this and make edits.”
“Let them.” He shrugs. “I’m not scared of a little edit war.”
He’s the best at making things he really means sound like a joke, and you hate it because it’s too subtle for people to realize he’s genuinely jealous.
“Okay, so I’ll tell my team right now, no romcoms,” you say, playing along just to tease him more.
“Tell them, baby!” he says again. You bite your lip, laughing. He’s playing with fire and he knows it, but you love it.
The video cuts to another clip. You’re both laughing hard. You step straight into his arms for a tight hug, not caring that you’re both still covered in the weird, sticky, translucent slime from the morning’s filming. The video is short.
“God, we were disgusting,” you say first.
“That thing didn’t taste good,” he says, making a face.
You look at him and laugh. “When and why did you taste that?” you ask, leaning forward, laughing.
“You didn’t?” he asks, faking surprise.
“That thing took ages to come off my hair,” you exclaim.
“You still had a bit the next day,” he adds, giggling at the memory.
Another cut.
Back in front of the camera for the quick outro, still a little flushed and smiling. Joe looks straight at the lens. “Well, keep leaving your comments, guys. We read them all and we love the chaos.”
You nod, leaning slightly toward him. “Maybe we’ll do this again sometime. It was actually really fun.”
“And make sure you tune in to part two of Stranger Things Season Five,” Joe adds, his voice warm and genuine. “It’s a wild ride. And she—” he gestures to you with a soft smile “—is absolutely amazing in it. You’re gonna lose your minds.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you turn to look at him, eyes soft and affectionate. “And he is incredible in it. We all love Steve Harrington so much.”
Joe’s smile widens, the two of you exchanging a quick, sweet glance.
“So go watch it,” you finish together, both pointing at the camera with matching grins. The crew calls cut. Joe reaches over and gives your hand a gentle, quick squeeze, followed by a small wink. He helps you stand, even if it’s not necessary.
You stand up and hug him a little too long; he holds your waist. “Wanna eat something?” he asks softly.
“Yes, please,” you answer without hesitation.
You leave after greeting everybody, knowing that everyone in that room, except you, doesn’t believe you aren’t together.
——————————————————————————
i love yerin and luke’s dynamic so much and this just came to me!!! hope you like it mwah💋
