Hii i wanted to request a joe x reader fic where they’re at a Sabrina Carpenter concert and the last song of the concert is “House tour”. When Sabrina sings “I could take you to the first, second, third floor” Joe doesn’t know the meaning of it but reader points at her lips for first floor and at her chest for second floor and Joe asks whats the third floor is (its her vag) and she says you’ll found out later and back in the hotel room she shows him and it turns into smut😛
⋆⭒˚.⋆ 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: At a Sabrina Carpenter concert, you tease Joe during the song “House Tour”, back at the hotel, the “house tour” turns into sex
warnings: explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, PIV sex Multiple, dirty talk, teasing, fluff
The bass from the speakers still thrummed in your chest as the final lights of the arena dimmed. Sabrina Carpenter’s voice had wrapped around the crowd like silk one last time, the encore stretching into something electric and intimate.
Joe stood beside you, his arm slung loosely around your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles against the bare skin where your top had ridden up, his tall frame curved protectively around yours, shielding you from the press of bodies slowly filtering toward the exits. The air smelled like sweat, perfume, and the faint sweetness of spilled drinks.
“That was insane,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and warm, the kind of rumble that always made your stomach flip, his hair was slightly damp from the heat of the venue, and his signature grin flashed in the flickering house lights.
“She’s got pipes… and that stage setup? Wild.”
You tilted your head back to look at him, smiling. Joe had been surprisingly into the whole night, bopping along to the upbeat tracks, even attempting the choreography during “Espresso” with exaggerated, goofy moves that made you laugh until your sides hurt, but it was the last song that had shifted everything.
Sabrina had introduced it as a playful, flirty deep cut from her setlist “House Tour,” she’d called it teasingly, though the lyrics danced right up to the edge.
As the chorus hit its peak, Sabrina had crooned, “I could take you to the first, second, third floor…” with that signature wink and sway. You’d felt Joe’s hand tighten on your hip, curious. In the moment, you’d turned toward him, heart racing with mischief. You pointed first to your glossy lips - first floor. Then, deliberately, you trailed your finger down to the swell of your chest, right above the neckline of your top-second floor. His eyebrows shot up, hazel eyes widening in that adorable, boyish confusion mixed with dawning heat.
“And the third floor?” he’d asked, voice husky even over the roar of the crowd, lips brushing your temple.
You’d just smirked, rising onto your toes to whisper,
Now, the promise hung between you like static electricity as you made your way out of the arena, hand in hand. The night was cool against your flushed skin, Joe’s driver had the car waiting, and the moment the door shut behind you, he pulled you into his lap, kissing you slow and deep, tasting like the overpriced beer he’d nursed during the opener.
“You’ve been driving me crazy since that song,” he admitted between kisses, hands sliding up your thighs under the hem of your skirt. “Those gestures… fuck, you’re trouble.”
You laughed softly, nipping at his bottom lip.
“The best kind.” His fingers flexed, possessive. “Hotel, now.”
The ride to the hotel was a blur of heated touches and whispered teases and by the time the elevator doors closed on your floor, Joe had you pressed against the mirrored wall, one hand cradling the back of your head as he kissed you like he’d been starving for it. The ding of your floor barely registered before he was guiding you down the hall, keycard fumbling in the lock while his mouth stayed on your neck.
The suite door clicked shut, and the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Joe kicked off his shoes, eyes dark and locked on yours. The city lights filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the king sized bed.
“Alright, baby,” he said, voice rough with want. “Time for the house tour, start talking.”
You bit your lip, playing coy as you backed toward the bed.
“First floor,” you murmured, pointing to your lips again, he closed the distance in two strides, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue traced the seam of your lips before slipping inside, tasting, claiming. You melted into him, fingers threading through his messy hair, tugging just enough to draw a low groan from his throat.
He pulled back only when you were both breathless.
“Second floor?” His hands were already sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your top.
You nodded, guiding his hands higher, he peeled your top off slowly, reverently, exposing your lace bra, his mouth followed the path your finger had taken earlier, kissing down your collarbone, then lower. He nuzzled the valley between your breasts before tugging the bra cups down, freeing you, his tongue swirled around one nipple, then the other, sucking gently until you arched into him with a whimper.
“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered against your skin, teeth grazing lightly, his hands kneaded and caressed, building the ache between your legs. You could feel him hard against your thigh, straining through his jeans.
But you weren’t done teasing. You stepped back, shimmying out of your skirt and panties in one fluid motion, standing bare before him except for the bra still tangled around your ribs. His gaze dropped, hungry.
“Third floor?” he asked, voice strained.
You took his hand, guiding it down your body, past your stomach, over the curve of your hip, until his fingers brushed the slick heat between your thighs.
“Right here,” you breathed. “The best floor in the house.”
He didn’t need more invitations, he dropped to his knees right there on the plush carpet, hands gripping your ass as he pulled you toward his mouth.
The first stroke of his tongue, flat and broad against your clit, made your knees buckle. He held you steady, licking and sucking with focused intent, like he was memorizing every gasp and shiver. Two fingers slid inside you easily, curling just right, pumping in time with the flicks of his tongue.
Your hands fisted in his hair, hips rocking against his face, he hummed in encouragement, the vibration sending sparks up your spine.
The pressure built fast, coiling tight in your core, then he added a third finger, stretching you, thrusting deeper while his lips sealed around your clit and sucked.
You came hard, thighs trembling around his shoulders, a broken moan tearing from your throat. He worked you through it, gentling his movements until you were oversensitive and panting.
Joe rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“Third floor’s my favorite,” he said, voice wrecked.
He shed his shirt, revealing the lean muscle and faint freckles you loved tracing with your tongue. Jeans and boxers followed, his cock springing free, thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.
You reached for him, wrapping your hand around his length and stroking slowly, he groaned, head tipping back.
He lifted you effortlessly, tossing you onto the mattress with a playful growl. You bounced once, laughing, before he crawled over you, caging you in with his arms.
The kiss this time was slower, deeper, full of affection layered under the lust. His hand slipped between your legs again, fingers circling your clit lazily, keeping you on edge.
“Want you so bad,” he murmured against your lips. “Been thinking about this since you pointed at that pretty pussy during the song.”
Heat flooded your face, but you spread your legs wider in invitation.
“Then take the full tour.”
Joe positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness, he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open.
The fullness was exquisite, burn and pleasure twisting together until he bottomed out with a shared groan. He stilled, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard.
“Fuck, you feel incredible… so tight and so wet for me.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back.
and he did. Long, deep strokes at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, grinding against your clit with every thrust. The pace quickened, hips snapping harder, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside your moans. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
“Yes…right there, don’t stop…”
His hand found your breast, pinching the nipple as he drove into you. Sweat slicked your bodies. You could feel another orgasm building, faster this time, coiling tighter with every powerful thrust. Joe’s rhythm faltered slightly, his own release approaching.
“Come with me,” he rasped, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing tight circles. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”
The command tipped you over, you cried out his name as pleasure crashed through you, walls pulsing around his cock. Joe followed seconds later, burying himself deep with a guttural moan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, hot and thick.
He collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you, face buried in your neck.
For long minutes, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the city below.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you against his chest, his fingers traced idle patterns on your back.
“Best concert ever,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re doing this again. Different artists, same house tour rules.”
You laughed, snuggling closer, already feeling the pleasant ache between your legs.
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, painting the hotel room in warm golds. You stirred first, blinking awake to the sight of Joe’s sleeping face, relaxed, hair wild against the pillow, one arm still draped possessively over your waist.
Last night replayed in vivid detail: the concert energy, the teasing gestures during Sabrina’s song, the way he’d dropped to his knees like he couldn’t wait another second. Heat pooled low in your belly again just thinking about it.
You shifted carefully, intending to slip out for coffee, but his arm tightened.
“Morning, trouble,” he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep, his eyes cracked open, hazel and warm, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. “Trying to sneak off before round two?”
“Round two?” You raised an eyebrow, but your body was already responding, nipples tightening under the sheet.
“Mmm. A full house tour requires multiple visits.”
He rolled you beneath him in one smooth motion, kissing you deeply, his morning wood pressed insistently against your thigh.
Unlike the frantic need of last night, this was slower, exploratory.
He took his time, mapping your body with hands and mouth. Kisses trailed from your jaw down your neck, pausing to suck a mark just below your collarbone-first floor revisited. Lower still, he lavished attention on your breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers until you were squirming and wet again.
“Joe…” You threaded your fingers through his hair, arching up.
He continued downward, nipping at your ribs, your stomach, until he settled between your thighs. This time his tongue was gentler, almost worshipful, long, slow licks that had you trembling, he slipped two fingers inside, scissoring gently, curling to stroke your inner walls while his mouth focused on your clit.
The build was luxurious, wave after wave of pleasure without rushing the peak.
When you came, it was with a soft, shuddering sigh, thighs clamping around his head. He kissed his way back up, tasting like you, and slid inside you in one smooth thrust. You were still fluttering from your orgasm, making him groan.
“Love how you feel after you come,” he whispered, starting a slow grind. “All warm and pulsing around me.”
You met his thrusts, hands roaming his back, nails lightly scratching.
The pace stayed unhurried,deep, rolling movements that let you feel every inch of him, he kissed you through it, swallowing your moans, one hand cupping your face like you were something precious.
Pressure built again, coiling tighter, you wrapped your legs higher around him, changing the angle until he was hitting that spot with every stroke.
Joe obliged, hips snapping harder. The bed creaked beneath you, his free hand slipped between you, thumb on your clit, and that was it…you shattered again, clenching around him hard enough to pull him over the edge with you. He came with a low curse, pulsing deep inside.
Afterward, you lay tangled together, trading lazy kisses and quiet laughter.
“Third floor’s even better in daylight,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
You swatted his chest playfully. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you.” His expression softened, the playful smirk fading into something more tender. “Last night was… perfect.I don’t want it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to,” you whispered, heart full. “We’ve got the whole day before we fly out.”
He grinned, already rolling you on top of him. “Then let’s keep touring”
You laughed, sinking down onto him again, taking control this time.
The morning stretched into slow, sensual exploration, hands and mouths everywhere, bodies moving in sync and by the time you finally ordered room service hours later, you were both sore in the best way, skin marked with love bites and fingerprints, the sheets a tangled mess.
“Love you,” he murmured suddenly, watching you eat your breakfast
You smiled, pressing a kiss on his lips. “Love you too, baby.”
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