Summary: During a sleepless night, Joel meets someone very special
Warnings: just angsty Joel, sadness and insomnia and possible character death but you didn't hear it from me
Notes: this is my first time writing angst so yeah, hope it's somewhat readable. Also this was inspired after I saw The Lure (10/10 would reccomend) and after hearing Siren Song by Maruv on loop for a couple of days
Gif credit
Read it on A03 [x]
Joel would watch the girl playing in the water all afternoons on his way home from the studio. She had appeared (or at least Joel first acknowledged her presence) a couple of weeks ago.
Plenty were the times he thought of approaching the dock where she was out of curiosity, to get a better look, but he always shook that thought out of his mind and kept on walking, minding his own business.
He felt a little bit like a stalker to be honest, watching her from afar as he passed by, but who wouldn’t? After all, it wasn’t common to find people swimming in that specific part of the bay since there was only a small, abandoned pier, which seemed like it could fall at any time given because of its dilapidated state.
But still, for what Joel could see in the distance, she didn’t seem worried about the possibility of that old structure falling on her or even about the big waves crashing on the rocks. In fact, she seemed extremely relaxed, just floating around and occasionally disappearing under the water.
Joel couldn’t really explain why, but her sight made him feel at ease, even though he could only see her head sticking out the water, and maybe that’s why he kept on choosing that way home every day for the last couple of weeks, even though it took him longer to reach his apartment.
~~~~
It happened one night Joel was battling with insomnia.
He already had gone through not only all the apps on his phone but through all the stats of said apps. And even if he had some news to share, he knew everybody would be asleep and wouldn't answer until the next morning. He groaned and threw his phone away, closing once again his eyes and trying to get some sleep. But of course it didn’t work out.
After a couple of minutes of tossing and turning around in his bed, Joel got up and began to pace around his apartment, like a wild animal in a cage. Suddenly, he stopped in front of the window. The city lights shined across the city. He followed with his sight the illuminated skyline until he reached the bay where he would walk by everyday after work, and all and every thought that was bothering him got wiped out and only one thought remained. The view of the young girl on the sea, who he had seen again that same afternoon, was all he could think of when looking at that place.
All of a sudden, he started hearing some kind of melody being hummed. Which was odd, since he was alone. The TV was off and his phone was muted, lying in some corner of his room. And it also couldn’t be their neighbours playing music, since as far as he knew, they were away on vacation and there was no one staying in their apartment.
No, the sound seemed to come from outside.
“Well, I must be losing my mind,” he said, talking to his empty flat. He turned around and gazed upon his empty bed, messy sheets as a failed result of trying to fall asleep. Turning around once more, Joel gave another look to the bay, a somber spot in the highly illuminated city. With a tired sigh, Joel grabbed a coat and exited the apartment.
The night was dark and cold. No person in their right mind set would have got out of their house on a night like this. But Joel was far from being an example of that type of person. While his feet were set on going in one specific direction, his mind was all over the place.
The wind was even colder and sharper as he approached the seacoast; Joel could feel it in his face, as if there were tiny daggers cutting through it. But going back to his empty bed was not an option. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep and being locked in his apartment would make him even more anxious. So he just kept on walking.
Joel stood at the doors of the old pier. A few lampposts were the only source of light though it. Joel couldn't see no one down the poorly illuminated path.
“What am I even doing here?” he thought for himself.
And just as he was about to turn around and leave, he heard the same humming he had heard in his apartment. But this time, it sounded closer and clearer.
Joel squinted his eyes as he tried to see if there was someone on the pier, but the mist and the poor lighting wouldn't let him see beyond the first couple of lampposts.
Joel began to walk across the pier, slowly at first, frightened the putrid wooden boards wouldn’t hold his weight. But it looked like they were pretty strong still, so with more confidence but still carefully, Joel started hurrying his pace across the pier.
“Hello?” he asked in the darkness, waiting for some answer.
He kept walking towards the end of the pier; it seemed that was from where the sound came. As he approached the end, he started to hear words; it was not just someone who was humming a song, someone was actually singing. And Joel could have sworn it was the sweetest voice he had ever heard.
He began to walk even faster, eager to meet the owner of that voice, but reaching the borderline between the pier and the sea, he found no one on sight.
Just before Joel could question his mental state again, a woman’s head emerged from the darkness of the sea. She turned around and smiled at him.
“Hi there,” the mysterious girl said, smirking.
Joel stood on the edge and looked down. The lighting wasn’t good because of the decayed lampposts, but he was able to recognise her. It was the girl he kept seeing all evenings when he got back home.
He could only see her from her shoulders all the way up to the crown of her head. And she was stunning, even though he could barely see her in the dark, misty water. She had long, black hair which seemed to blend in with the water and her features were sharp. Sharp as if you could cut your hand if you touched her.
Joel was truly mesmerised by her presence. He even saw that her skin was kinda glowing, but he thought it might be his tired eyes tricking him.
“Can’t sleep?” she spoke again, still with a smirk on her face.
Joel realized he hadn’t responded to her greeting because of how concentrated he was on the chance of getting a closer look of her. He immediately turned red, not that the girl couldn’t realize giving how dark it was.
“Yeah, just a lot of things going through my head lately,” Joel answered, scratching his head. “What about you? I know this isn’t your first time here,” Joel asked and he immediately face-palmed himself in his mind, realizing how stalkerish that had sounded.
But to his surprise, the girl laughed and Joel swore it was the most charming laugh he ever heard.
“Good eye! You’re right, this isn’t my first time here,” she said as she twirled around, her dark hair wrapping her shoulders.
She came closer and Joel noticed her eyes, black and brilliant as the night.
“And I have seen you walking pass here,” she winked at Joel and, once more, started to hum the same song Joel had heard before in his apartment. But the song was cut short when she went down the water again. Joel panicked.
“Wait! Don’t go,” Joel kneeled on the wooden planks and looked at the dark water, searching for the mysterious girl.
He was really losing his mind, he had no doubt about it. Freaking out about a crazy girl who was swimming at midnight in the deadly cold waters of the Baltic.
But he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t stand up. There was something about her that made him stay right where he was.
He saw a silver reflection under the water, as if some kind of fish were swimming around. He stretched out his hand towards the water, but before his hand could touch the water, the girl emerged again, even closer to him.
Joel quickly retired his hand which made her laugh again. The sound of her laugh made Joel come dangerously close to the edge of the pier. But her voice made Joel wish he could be closer to her. He wished she would talk to him with her soothing voice until he fell asleep.
“Please, sing to me,” Joel blurted out, surprising himself with his request.
“Are you sure you want to hear my song? I’m afraid you will end up asleep…” she said, with a devilish smile, as if she could read Joel’s mind.
“There’s nothing I want more. To be able to sleep.” Joel tiredly sighed, knowing he never said nothing more true than that.
“Even though it would be forever?” she added to her previous warning, and licked her lips.
Joel hesitated for a second, a bit worried about that last statement, but the girl didn’t give him time to change his mind as she started to sing her song, the song to which Joel had begun to succumb to, earlier in his house.
As the young girl kept on singing, she took her hand out of the water and reached out for Joel.
And he grabbed it without a doubt, being way too hypnotised to realise how slippery her hand felt.
Joel also failed to realise the pointy and seemingly sharp teeth the girl’s smile now revealed.
Or the scales covering her arms and shoulders, which were previously hidden by her long hair.
Or the long, moving, silver tail that appeared behind the girl, where her legs should have been.
Or maybe Joel just didn't care to realise these new features. He just wanted to hear how their her song ended.
~~~~
The pier remained dark and covered in even more mist. No noises could be heard but the wind. Not a soul could be seen in that part of town.
So no one could have heard the abrupt, hard sounding noise that interrupted the quiet night.
Cuddling Joost after he comes out of the shower and he’s all fresh and clean, his hair is a little damp, his face is freshly smooth, the smell of aftershave still on his neck and he’s just a treat for the senses
Chatting quietly in bed together until you fall asleep on his warm chest breathing against his skin smelling the soft scent of the lotion he uses,
MY GOD I'M FINALLY AVAILABLE TO WRITE ABOUT OUR LOVELY DUTCHIE /sobs
It's been a very busy week, couple of weeks, really, being a law student is no joke at all ><
On Monday, I had a killer test that left me so drained of life and feeling like a failure that I had wished Joost was there to comfort me. So, here you go, a little Joost calming the reader after a rough day, coming right up! (I passed the test btw, barely, but I passed it)
I also wanna do smut but that will be for later. For now, have some fluff, I hope you enjoy it the same!
Content under the cut!!
The door of Joost's apartment opened and closed. You could hear music blaring from the inside. Instead of the usual Happy Hardcore or Gabberpop playlists he listens to all the time, this time you hear Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter, and you hear his voice doing his best to sing along to the melody. It's frankly adorable, and the pain in your heart subsides just a little bit as you settle your things down in the living room, announcing you're back.
Joost is in the kitchen space, with a ladle on his hand pretending to sing, wearing a blue striped apron. It's almost dinnertime, and you can smell something good cooking. Judging by the smell of onions, it's probably soup or another comfort dish. When he hears your voice, he turns around with a smile, but you see it quickly fade when he sees how miserable you're looking.
"Oh, no, what happened to you, my sweet little onion?" He doesn't turn the music off, but rather he turns down the volume. He immediately walks over to you and takes his hands into yours, if you allow it. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes before any words get out, and you see him shake his head. "No, no, no, come on, don't cry... Come here, come here..."
His arms open and then wrap around you with a gentle warmth, in the kindest embrace there is. He slowly shushes you and pets your hair to calm you down, but doesn't do anything to stop the tears once they started flooding - he knows you need it. So he stays there, holding you for as long as you need, cradling you into his arms.
"All better now?" He asks, speaking softly into your ear when he feels the sobs quiet down. Whether you nod or shake your head, he presses a kiss to your forehead and guides you with him to the kitchen so you can see what he's cooking. It looks like a very comforting stew.
"Hachee", he explains. "My sister taught me my mom's recipe. Special cure for bad days. When you sent me that text that the day wasn't going as well, I ran to the grocery store. It's still a while before it's done, so if you want, we can sit down and unwind, yes? You don't need to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to, you can just sit down while I enjoy my tunes... Or wait, do you wanna turn it off, or put your own music? Either way, I'm here for you, schatje. I'll always be."
Another kiss to your temple, and then slow kisses on your neck to bring you a little extra comfort. Fluttering contacts that put your heart at ease, and that remind you why you chose him in the first place.
request: “Hey so I have an idea. Maybe Joost and singer!Reader?? I haven't really seen this since he was at Eurovision and I think it would be a great concept. Reader is an established artist and Joost wants to collab with her on a song. Naturally they have great chemistry and they catch feelings for each other.” // “I got an idea! I saw famous singer!reader but like the famous singer is from a punk/emo/goth band ?? Idk just a thought :0”.
tags: f! reader, famous-singer! reader, foreign/non-dutch! reader, she’s the frontman of a big famous goth band and he’s joost klein, strangers to lovers, technically porn that’s entirely plot, very much a cliché ‘love at first sight’ type thing because joostie is just so smitten with her immediately, lots of fluff, all dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.
warnings: smut, rpf.
word count: 7,170.
notes: thank you so so much to my BABE @starryeyedobsessions + @hardcore-junkie for this request — as a former lil baby-bat this was so so much fun to write, and it’s weirdly become very important to me. and then ofc a special shoutout to my darlings @killerlookz + @minuutvanverval + @blueessber for beta-reading; i love you all very muchly <33
enjoy! xx
you really were such a marvel, weren’t you? a force to truly be reckoned with.
as sweat had started to cling to his skin, turning the palms of his hands clammy, and as the ends of his hair stuck themselves to the nape of his neck, joost had found himself stuck. not even the end of the world could have moved him from his spot amongst the crowd. in a single breath, almost, you had him hooked, didn't you? obsessed with you.
though honestly, it shouldn't have taken them so long to realise. the clues had all been there, right underneath their noses – stuntje, bram, teun, lyon. how they’d each had to queue to get in and then pay in cash on the door, despite it only, at least seeming to be a regular, old run-of-the-mill bar on the city outskirts. how it was wall-to-wall heaving with people all clad in heavy, dark leather and silver chains, leaving them with hardly enough room to stand on their own.
but the countless shots of tequila from the last three bars had still coursed heavily through their veins, clouding their judgements and skewing their eyesights. none of them had taken any notice of all the posters stuck up around the room, but even if they had, they wouldn't have thought to google translate them. priority one had been figuring out who’s round it was then, and priority two was trying to spot a bottle of don julio behind the bar.
it took the sudden, deafening strum of an electric guitar to make them all jump enough to spill a few drops of their drinks. as lyon had glanced up from his phone, already in search of the next bar to crawl to, joost was turning on his heel to follow the sound across the room, around a corner, leaving the rest of them to all trail behind him. seeing the make-shift stage set up right against the far back wall; all the mic stands, guitar peddles, and miscellaneous cables that drowned it — the penny had finally dropped.
aimlessly, they had wandered into your show without even realising it. an exclusive, ‘one night only’ intimate show in one of the last few countries in europe that your band hadn’t played in yet. and bram had been the first one to say it – a little in awe but also ever so slightly, harmlessly mocking the situation, asking if they’d all somehow stumbled into a ‘my chemical romance concert circa 2006’. it was only because of that, that joost had taken another sip of his double-tequila, eager to settle the disappoint in his chest as he readied himself to leave after only the first song or two. the whole ‘goth’ thing wasn't exactly to everyone’s tastes; joost had already accepted that he was bound to be outnumbered in wanting to stay.
except then, you had sauntered on stage, hadn’t you? with your band-mates all following in tow. you, in all of your delicate, black lace; your sweet, saccharine smile, and a voice so heavenly that he could only stand there and watch you sing with parted lips, hypnotised. by the third song in he was already looking you up on every platform that he could think of. on instagram, some part of him stopped working properly when he’d seen that ‘follow back’ button staring right back at him.
it had flustered him terribly. had him clicking on it and following you back without any hesitation or regard of the potential ramifications. as stuntje had begun to tease, yelling something about ‘goth mommies’ right into his ear, he’d only shaken his head and tried to swat him away, unable to hide the soft rosiness of his cheeks.
so the end of your show had come as quite a relief, actually. it gave him the chance to eventually step outside for a moment, to shake all the sweat from his hair with the tips of his fingers and take a heavy, big deep breath in. as the others all lost themselves in the debate of ‘bar number five vs mcdonald’s’, joost was busy chain-smoking through his pack of cigarettes and trying to brainstorm different ways he could possibly collaborate with you somehow.
maybe he could teach you how to rap or something; maybe you could be the one to finally teach him how to sing.
because he just couldn’t get you out of his head. over the sound of a dozen other conversations all happening around him, he could still hear the sound of your voice in his ears, see the sight of you glowing on stage every time that he so much as blinked.
“oh shit, wait, isn’t that…?” he ignored the slight nudge to his ribs, his head still down, gaze still fixed on his shoes. “fuck, okay, she’s coming right for you, man. wake up.”
and you were, weren’t you? making a straight fucking beeline for him, with the brightest fucking grin tugging at your lips.
the dark blouse and long, awkward skirt that you’d been wearing on stage still cling to your skin, blowing in the wind that would have sent a chill straight down your spine if it wasn’t for the heavy coat that you now wear. your shoulders carry most of the weight of the denim that almost swallows you whole, threatening to fall down past your hands and hanging around your ankles. though somehow in spite of the weather, you still radiate warmth.
and it throws joost right off his axis. not at your lips or around your eyes, there’s not a single smudge of anything anywhere. there’s no pinkness to your face, or droplets of sweat settling along your hairline. it’s all too good to be true — you’re standing right in front of him now, close enough for him to see the faint smile lines that frame your mouth, and it’s just perfect.
“of all people i thought i’d see here, you really weren’t one of them.” he only manages a nervous, half-smile before you’re continuing with an inked hand splayed out across your heart. “i have to admit that it’s been a while, but i used to watch you on youtube all the time; do you still go by unicorn-joost?”
his friends all cough simultaneously, their shoulders jolting, each and every one of them failing at trying to hide their sudden cackles. they’re a little too amused by the simple, almost innocent translation of his old social media name, laughing in a way that has no malice behind it at all, but holds just enough of something that joost refuses to entertain it. he can tell that you’re trying — hear how there’s a rich softness to your accent that’s indicative of some place else. english isn’t your first language either; to join in would feel almost cruel to him.
he only smiles at you sweetly as he shakes his head, endeared by just how equally giddy you seem to be. “just joost now… i’ve grown up.”
and your voice wavers just enough for him to hear it when you finally return the favour and introduce yourself, speaking your name and giggling when he tries to repeat it back to you in your accent.
“did you enjoy the show, joost?”
you really don’t expect him to say ‘yes!’ as feverishly as he does.
maybe it’s not fair of you to judge him or any of his friends as so, but it feels too safe to have assumed that none of them were exactly your intended demographic. they stick out like sore thumbs amongst the rest of your fans; the only ones adorning any sort of colour in their outfits, one of which in a minecraft t-shirt, and a severe lack of any type of leather. you can see it on their faces, feel it in their body language, that they’re just not used to being around so many people that all look like you. it’s cute.
but it means that you’re left speechless when joost veers away from the script that you’d had ready in your head. you were prepared for a cordial ‘yeah, it wasn’t bad!’ and nothing more; something a little obvious in its lack of sincerity. you’re not quite sure what to do with it when he just starts rambling instead, apologising for not having heard of you before, but promising that it was one of the best performances that he’s yet to see. how his friends are all nodding behind him whilst he’s waving his hands around, taking drags of his cigarette in between breaths, calling you captivating and ‘unlike anything that he’s ever seen’.
a blush of your own starts to creep it’s way up the back of your neck as you finally find the right words to say, clutching onto your own hands just to stop them from shaking. “thank you, you don’t…you have no idea how much that means to me, wow.”
“how do you do that, by the way?” he waggles a finger in front of his eyes, head tilting to the side. “i wear the eyeliner for my own shows sometimes, but it never stays right.”
you try to answer without stumbling over any syllables, gazing into the blue of his eyes and already trying to picture how they’d look with a thick streak of black along their waterlines. but then you stop, flinching, taking a step or two closer to him at the sound of yelling from behind you. it’s only a group of guys taking turns downing their drinks and competing to see who can do it the fastest, but they’re loud enough for you to lose all train of thought.
it’s instinctive the way that joost then brings his arm up high around your shoulders, keeping his hand balled up into a loose fist as he guides you to stand even further into his side.
“yeah, i’m not a big fan of loud noises either.” he pauses only to curl his spine, bending down until he’s level with your ear. “do you want to move somewhere quieter? would that be better?”
when you nod, he readjusts, the warmth of his palm finding your lower back as he starts to lead the way.
at the very far end of the smoking area, hidden ever so slightly around another corner, is a picnic bench that you’re surprised to see no one else has found yet. it’s old wood is a little green, a little rotted, but it’s dry enough for you to sit down on without the damp soaking through your clothes. you’re lighting up a cigarette of your own as soon as you’re settled, cocking an eyebrow at the look on joost’s face as he sits down across from you.
“surprised that i smoke too?”
he grins at you again, shrugging. “with a voice like that, a little. you’re not so…’rahrahrah’ with it.”
immediately you choke on that first heavy inhale of smoke, your head hanging, coughing hard enough for your throat to burn as you laugh. it’s through watery eyes that you watch him start to crack too, giggling as he squints behind the thick, dark frames of his glasses. he’s only laughing because you are, and you’re only still laughing because he is.
“what was that?!”
“i was trying to do the smokers voice thing!”
“you sounded like that skeleton with the…the, fuck, i don’t know what the word for it is in english.”
except joost already knows exactly what you’re trying to say because then his eyes are lighting up, and he’s nodding at you again as he starts to act it out, almost, hitting an imaginary bin-lid with an invisible bat of some kind.
“ja ja ja ja, the one with the stick!”
“yes!”
a subtle aching starts to seep into your cheeks, pulling uncomfortably at your lips — it’s just becoming so easy with him, isn’t it? you’re smiling so much that it’s starting to hurt now, and it means that you don’t even think to check your phone that’s slowly buzzing itself to death inside your pocket. in no more than an hour somehow, joost already has you wrapped irrevocably around his finger, hanging off his every word.
your elbows resting on the table, hands cupped underneath and propping up your chin, but still clutching onto the cigarette that’s long since burnt itself out all the way down to the filter. you’re watching him throw his hands around again because he’s lost himself inside a story about one of his nephews dressing up as a skeleton for halloween one year. you’re smiling so much that it hurts.
it does nothing but feed right into his ego. it’s rare that he’s so extroverted with someone like this, someone like you, someone that could easily make his knees buckle with a single glance. he’s the type to quickly blush at mere eye-contact, unable to do much other than simply nod politely when spoken to. you’re bringing out something new in him, aren’t you? a confidence that he’s just not used to yet.
it means that neither of you realise it when the time starts to slip away right through your fingers. it’s just too hard of a thing to help — the way that the conversation flows from one topic to the next as though you’re more old friends catching up than anything else.
suddenly joost knows each of your bandmates by name, mannerism, and most embarrassing moment of the tour so far. you learn of his friends beyond their art and online personas, from each of the little vlogs and tiktoks that he has saved of them on his phone. you tell him a little too much about your new ‘resident evil’ obsession; he returns the favour by admitting his recent mexican wrestling one.
the only thing that you both dare to leave unsaid is any mention of your families. it’s only because you remember enough from watching him back on youtube that you know better than to ask; you’re not exactly in a rush to explain your own situation, either.
and it’s not until you’re half way through trying to list each of your favourite films without laughing, because somehow you have just a few too many in common with him to wrap your head around, that you’re interrupted. someone in a t-shirt bearing the bar’s logo stands beside you with an almost blank expression, speaking a language neither of you can understand. after a moment of awkward silence, she finally clears her throat and sighs, rolling her eyes slightly.
“we close in thirty minutes so we’re asking for last drinks. can i get you anything?”
joost answers hesitantly on your behalf, shaking his head ‘no’ with a hint of a smile on his face as he reassures whoever it is that you’ll be leaving in just a minute. when you don’t dispute it, disappointment starts to lower itself onto his chest, the weight of it crushing, but it’s subtle enough that it only brings a slight furrow to his eyebrows.
you just can’t believe what time it is.
for seemingly the first time all night, it occurs to you to finally dig your phone out of your coat pocket and dismiss the low battery warning. the time that you’re confronted with, ‘00:53am’ sends a small shock to your system, only because it means that you’ve been out here with him for almost three hours now. several texts from your bandmates clutter your lockscreen, and they all read relatively the same.
‘we got the hint ;) and went to go get food. we’ll probs be back at the hotel by the time ur done. plz be safe we have no room for a baby on the bus. see u tomo’
a slow heat rises to your cheeks, staining them a soft pink despite the cooler breeze that still whips around you every now and then. you don’t look up until joost starts to stand, a blush that matches your own creeping its way up the sides of his neck. and then you don’t stop to ask why he seems to be almost just as flustered as you know that you are, as you copy his movements, rising to your feet with a shy reluctance.
you’re still trying to grasp the certain implications of what your friends had said. it makes you a little dizzy actually, imagining it, and realising just how much you want it.
“my uh, my hotel’s not that far…would you want to come back with me?”
and the offer almost knocks joost right off his feet, doesn’t it? he finds himself needing to lean back against the bench just to try and stay upright.
the way that you’re smiling up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, tucking strands of fallen hair behind your ears and blushing more out of nervousness than anything else. it’s the first time that he’s truly seeing the effect that he has on you, and it’s killing him.
he nods softly, grinning without his teeth as he pulls the hood of his jacket up and over his head. “yeah! i’d really like that.”
he curves an arm around your shoulders again, and you assume that it’s only to keep you close whilst you make your way out, but once you’re out onto the street he doesn’t move, and neither do you. it’s like that, that you both walk the ten minutes back to your hotel, with you tucked gently into his side and listening quietly as he rambles about how beautiful this city is. you ask him about where else he’s been, on tour or otherwise, and he tells you sparing little to no detail.
but it’s really not too long before you start to lose track of it all, of the finer, almost intimate details of his stories, because it’s the mere sound of joost’s voice that you find yourself so stuck on. the sheer softness of it. how it’s so much deeper than you remember, with just enough gravel to it to make your head spin.
it feels a little…wrong, despite all things considered, but you just can’t help it. the old leather of your boots hit a puddle, you hear muffled live music spilling out from a lounge as you pass it by, but all you can focus on is the heat pooling beneath you. you think of his voice in your ear, deeper, breathier, groaning. you can’t appreciate where you are, all of the light, and art, and life that surrounds you, because you’re just too caught up in the thought of whatever this is leading to.
you don’t slip out from underneath his hold until you’re faced with the heavy glass doors of your hotel, and you can’t hide the way that your hands shake when you unlock them with your keycard. it’s dawning on you now that you haven’t exactly clarified what you’ve invited him back with you for, and you’re still waiting for him to ask. you want to hope that it’s obvious when you both step into the lift to head up to your floor, and you immediately take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.
but you just never really do this, do you? at least not very often. and joost, you know enough about him by now to gather that he’s something of a gentleman, maybe even a little unassuming. you can’t imagine him ever putting an expectation like that on you; if all you wanted was someone to talk to until you fell asleep, you’re almost certain that he really wouldn’t mind that.
it doesn’t phase you that neither of you have spoken in a while until you’re wandering down a corridor and he’s asking you which room is yours, and you realise that you’re just about to miss it.
you pull him to a sudden stop alongside you, the momentum of it swinging him around, and now you’re not quite sure what to say with him gazing down at you like this.
“you okay?”
“are we on the same page about this?”
you meet his eyes and see the ease in them; how his slight frown melts into something so much sweeter as he shrugs. “we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to; trust me, i’m on board no matter what.”
for just a moment you let the words sit, hanging in the air that thickens around you, before you nod, a faint smile tugging at your lips. and it says exactly what you need it to, because then joost is reaching forward to cradle your jaw; your blush deepens at the feeling of his thumbs smoothing along the skin of your cheeks.
“in my country, we would say ‘zo mooi’.” at the tilting of your head, he continues in something akin to a whisper, leaning into you a little closer. “so beautiful.”
you just about manage to breathe out his name in a sigh before he’s kissing you, clutching your face in the palms of his hands so delicately as your noses bump. the subtle taste of tobacco and sugary soda hit your tongue; the coarser hairs of his moustache tickle the very corners of your mouth. when you hook your fingers through the holes of his belt loops, pulling him flush against you, it’s only to anchor yourself down, really. suddenly your knees feel all funny.
and it’s absolutely ruining you, isn’t it? how perfect it all feels. how you just can’t seem to hold back the way that you whine into his mouth when he moves to step back, leaving you to wobble on uneven feet. not even a full second passes before you’re mourning the loss of him sucking on your bottom lip, but it’s enough to remind you of where you still are, standing on the wrong side of your hotel room’s door.
with your keycard still balanced between your fingers, you unlock it with a single beep.
“i’m…gonna go freshen up. wait up for me?”
he nods, leaning down to peck your lips again. “i’ll be here.”
the bathroom door clicks shut behind you, the sound of the shower turning on quickly following. now that he’s on his own for a minute, joost can’t contain his excitement anymore. he’s pumping his fist in the air, doing a little shuffle-dance, and taking fit-pics in the mirror before stopping to fix his hair.
it almost doesn’t feel real. he doesn’t do this. he can count on one hand the amount of one night stands he’s ever had — if that’s all that this is going to be in the end. something not too dissimilar to disappointment starts to settle beneath his skin as he slips off his jacket and shoes, and perches patiently on the edge of your bed. maybe he already likes you a little bit more than he probably should.
he sends another selfie to his groupchat; the friends of his that are still awake each reply with a combination of emojis that make his stomach twist as he laughs.
“hey…”
joost glances up at the soft sound of your voice, locking his phone and leaving it somewhere on the bedside table.
you’re standing at the foot of the bed dressed in nothing but a ‘sisters of mercy’ t-shirt that’s several sizes too big for you. the ends of your hair that poke out from the bun sitting on top of your head hang heavy with drops of water, your face fresh and bare of any makeup. it’s looking like this, so disarmed and almost shy, that he really starts to swoon for you, isn’t it?
a hot breath catches in his throat, his voice threatening to crack. “hi.”
you don’t think too much about it as you cross the room, only stopping once you’re in between his spread-apart legs, with your hands smoothing along the short stubble of his cheeks. you feel him melt into the touch, see how the sharp cerulean of his eyes sparkle in the warm lights around him. the subtle curve of his cupids bow, and the beauty mark that sits just above his chin. it’s only now that you’re noticing the ombré of his eyebrows, too.
“i think you’re beautiful, too.”
and then before he can blush, you’re kissing him again, and it’s his own hands finding the backs of your thighs and squeezing that keeps you steady this time. you also find yourself becoming pliable in his palms, because when he tugs you in closer, you move without any resistance. when he slips his tongue into your mouth and lets his grip wander up onto your hips, you let him, you encourage it.
in fact, you only stay like for another moment or two before you’re climbing onto his lap, aren’t you? knees falling either side of his own two hips, fingertips dropping from his face down to the hem of his t-shirt to pull on the dark cotton of it until he finally takes the hint, and throws it off and over his head.
he just can’t help but to giggle when you mutter out a string of what he can only guess are swear-words in your first language, your eyes carefully drifting along his pale, bare chest. “good things i hope?”
with your hands resting on his tummy, you nod with parted lips. “very good.”
he’s about to make a joke when you then start to shift, crawling back off him and onto the floor at his feet. you make a strong reach for his belt-buckle as you do so, fighting with the silver heart and feeling how his muscles jump underneath the touch. you only stop because suddenly his hand comes down to clutch yours, making you glance up with a pout.
“hey — only if you want to, okay? i don’t want you thinking that you have to; you don’t.” despite the way that his cock strains against his jeans at the mere thought, he really does mean it.
“no, i want to.” you gulp down the thick saliva that fills your mouth, eyes flickering between his face and his bulge. “please, but i can’t….get this fucking…”
it’s not mocking how joost laughs at you again, almost painfully endeared by just how desperate you are to get to him. a jagged crease cuts right through your eyebrows, a thicker pout pulling on your full, wet lips, and it’s all because you’re still struggling with his buckle, your patience starting to wear a little thin.
he doesn’t say anything as he takes over, lifting his hips up off the bed as he guides the cracked, black leather back through the old clasp. he just makes it look so easy, doesn’t he? because you blink and suddenly he’s holding it free in his hands, dropping the belt to the floor and letting his jeans sit loose around his thighs.
it gives you such a perfect view of him, of the boxers printed with his own name — how the cotton stretches around his erection, and he just can’t seem to stop twitching underneath your gaze. gently, you curl your fingers beneath the waistband and pull down, your mouth watering again as your hands start to shake. you’re not even sure what you were expecting, but he’s still somehow bigger.
“keep looking at me like that, and this might be over before we’ve even started.”
you only grin before you reach forward and hold him throbbing in your hands, hearing how he sucks in a sharp breath at the soft touch. you don’t grant him a moment to catch his breath either, before you’re licking a smooth stripe up from the base to the pink of his tip, swirling your tongue and sucking, watching how his pretty eyes screw shut.
and it’s all the encouragement you need to keep going, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the very back of your throat. you’re not even halfway.
“f-fuck, schatje.”
you’re not sure what it means, but you love the way that it falls from his lips.
joost digs his nails into the mattress behind him, needing to lean back and brace himself on his hands just to feel as though he’s still in control of himself. short, strangled huffs fly from his noise, his tummy all tense and cramping, as small beads of sweat start to gather along his hairline.
maybe there’s a joke to be made about a singer being so good with their mouth, but he doesn’t know, he can’t seem to think with your lips wrapped around him like this. maybe you’re too good at this, bobbing your head as you try to take as much of him as you possibly can, gagging, and using your hands to reach what you can’t fit.
he reaches forward to cup your face, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away some of the spit from your chin before carefully pulling your hair free from the bun that it’s in. he wouldn’t even know where to begin if you were to have asked him why, so he’s glad that you don’t. he just needs to hold you in any way that he can.
you feel him lace his fingers through your hair, scratching at your scalp and tugging on your roots every time that you try to push yourself a little further down onto him. it’s really not too hard to tell that he’s holding himself back every time that he does, because his hands are trembling, and as soon as he’s caught his breath, he’s smoothing the messed-up strands back down.
his head tips forward as his spine slowly curls in; he’s almost hugging your head to him as he whimpers out your name as though it’s some kind of prayer.
“fuck, wait wait wait, schat, wait.”
you let him go with a little ‘pop!’. there’s just a few too many tears welled up behind your waterlines to fully see the fucked-out look on his face, and your throat’s too spent to then speak without your voice cracking. “everything okay?”
joost can only laugh, can’t he? as he pulls you up into another kiss by the hold that he still has on your face. “yeah…i just…i was getting really close.” and then his hands move up to catch the last of the tears in your eyes. “are you?”
you merely shrug, trying to stifle a small cough. “my throat hurts a little.”
and it’s only because of that, that he finally pulls back, turning around and stretching to reach the bottle of water that he remembers seeing laying on a pillow behind him. it’s open but hardly touched, and something that he insists on holding for you as you take a few sips.
“better?” he doesn’t put it down until you nod, and then he’s taking your hands in his to help you stand. a small part of his heart starts to sink at the sight of the sore, red scuff marks on each of your knees. “swap with me, it’s your turn.”
you don’t hesitate.
as joost moves in turn with you, rising to his feet just to give you the room that you need to take his seat, you lay yourself down across the bed, propping yourself up and resting on your elbows. you watch him stumble trying to kick off his boxers and jeans before settling in between your legs, and you don’t mean to hold your breath for as long as you do when he gently pushes your t-shirt up. you hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear; there’s already a faint coating of your slick stuck to the very inside of your thighs.
it’s the accumulation of the effect that he’s had on you all night, and it renders him fucking speechless. because even as he’s taking you in his grasp and hooking each of your legs over his shoulders, he’s silent, simply staring, losing all of the colour in his eyes to just how wide his pupils dilate. as he flattens his tongue against you and licks a solid stripe up your centre, you hear him take a big deep breath in, taking in your scent.
“zo lekker…”
and you don’t get to ask him what it means before you’re suddenly squirming as he grins into you. his hands move to press down against your stomach when your hips buck up from off the bed, forcing you to still despite how he’s sucking on your clit as though it’s some sort of lifeline, and he’ll die if he doesn’t. between that and how he keeps pulling away every few minutes only to blow his cold breath along you, through your folds and laughing at how it makes you shiver, you really don’t stand a chance, do you?
fresh tears spring to your eyes again. with every sharp breath, your tummy caves in on itself a little more. you almost wish that he’d stop moaning at the sheer, sweet taste of you on his tongue, bumping his nose against you as he delves in a little deeper and laps you up, because it’s too much. every vibration sends another jolt up the length of your spine, and your thighs press together around his head.
“jesus….fuck, joost.” the words come out all strained and fragmented. you’re very quickly forgetting how to breathe.
“fuck, i like that.” he lifts his head up to wipe the wetness from his chin and see for himself the utter state that he’s gotten you in. how your chest is heaving, your face all wrinkly and screwed up with your cheeks just a tad tear-stained. “you should say my name again.”
you all but scream it when his lips wrap around your clit again and refuse to let go.
clammy hands knot themselves in his hair and pull, and unlike him, you wouldn’t have been able to hold yourself back even if you wanted to. every muscle that lies underneath your skin starts to lock up, cramping, almost turning to stone as you writhe against his mouth. his hands on you aren’t enough to keep you steady anymore; your back is arching up off the bed as he moves his grip down to hold your hips instead.
you try to push off the mattress — feet digging into the fabric. joost is relentless as he eats you alive, and it’s only by instinct that you’re trying to crawl away. there’s a feeling bubbling up that you just don’t know what to do with, one that’s making you clench around his tongue as you watch him through wet lashes, all starrey-eyed.
“j-joost, fuck, i don’t….i, i fucking, i can’t. oh my god.”
his hold you grows a little stiffer, and he yanks you back down onto his mouth when you manage to wiggle away just a bit.
“i got you, baby. it’s okay. gonna make you feel so good.”
“joost!”
its when he sucks on your clit again that you cum for the first time, isn’t it? something inside of you snaps, your whole body contorting as you shake, and it well and truly wrecks you beyond all recognition. because as joost sits back on his knees and you drip from his nose all the way down to his chest, you’re curling in on yourself as you struggle to gasp for air.
piece by piece it feels as though you’re dissolving right into the mattress beneath you, your eyelids heavy and starting to droop. it means that it hardly registers when joost crawls his way up to you and sits just beside your head, brushing the sweat-soaked strands of your hair away and out of your face.
“still with me, schatje?” his voice isn’t much higher than a whisper.
“mmhm.” you hum as you slowly roll over onto your back, gazing up at him half-lidded and leaning into the soft touch of his hand still stroking through your hair. “just a little…gone. that was…wow.”
if you could see the look in his eyes, you’d surely blush under the weight of it. “we don’t have to keep going. if you’re too tired, we can sleep. it’s okay.”
“no, no i’m fine i just…can i get some more water please?”
its only after helping you to sit up with him that he holds the bottle to your lips again, with a large, warm palm still cradling your face. and when a dribble of it starts to fall from your bottom lip, he wipes it away on the tip of his thumb, before taking a small gulp himself.
“then let’s go a little slower, ok? and to be honest, i really don’t think i’m gonna last that long, anyway.”
you simply nod, smiling at him just enough for it to reach your tired eyes. “yeah, that sounds nice. i don’t even…” and then you lay back down amongst the pillows, beckoning him over with just a small wave of your hand. “i don’t want anything crazy, i just…i want to feel you for a while.”
as soon as joost’s on you, your legs are wrapping around his waist and pulling him down, fingers stretching into the white-blond of his hair as you latch onto him by the nape of his neck. his inked arms are holding himself up by his hands pinned on either side of your head. they start to shake as soon as you start to grind against his cock, whining into his mouth. you can still taste yourself on his tongue — feel that he’s still twitching.
“you’re really gonna kill me, schat.”
joost shifts slightly; he reaches down and lines himself up, collapsing a little into the curve of your neck as he hisses. because you’re just so warm, aren’t you? and moulding to his shape with every inch that he eases in, fluttering around his length and squeezing.
it’s just that you can feel him everywhere. every time you think that he’s finally bottomed out, he keeps on pushing until he settles into a gentle rocking of his hips. beside you, his knuckles turn a faint shade of white, and you can hear the low baritone of his breathy little groans inside your ear. it doesn’t even compare to what you were imagining earlier.
the feeling of him on top of you, weighing you down as he pecks, kissing along the dip of your shoulder. the way that he’s being so ridiculously gentle as he fucks you exactly how you asked him to, his strokes slow yet still deep enough to leave you reeling. at first it has you gasping, mewling, as your nails carve neat lines down the pale skin of his back, but then your jaw goes all slack and you can only babble out soft prayers in your own language.
“how do you feel, baby? you feeling good?” he lifts his head to look at you, beaming at the teary, cock-drunk look in your eyes.
you really are just so pretty like this, aren’t you? hair sprawled out across the pillows, nose all scrunched, and your shirt bunched up around your midriff high enough to expose the bulging of your tummy with each one of his slow thrusts. maybe you weren’t just a marvel, maybe you’re actually a lot more than that to him now — maybe you’re greatest thing that he’s ever fucking seen.
“so, so good, joost….fuck.” the praise comes out as more of a cry than anything else, catching in your throat.
and it feels a little different than before when you feel that knot inside of you start to twist again. it’s tender, quieter, still enough to have you quivering beneath him because you’re still just so sensitive from the last one. goosebumps prick up along the skin of your arms as your sight turns a little blurry around the edges; the only thing strong enough to keep you anchored to the room is the hand on your hip, kneading the soft flesh.
he knows that you’re close, doesn’t he?
he knows that he is, too.
“think you can give me one more?”
you can’t even nod before it happens, stealing your voice, turning you limp as your eyes roll far back inside your head. it’s delirium. your whole body convulses for a moment; your nails dig crescent shapes into the muscle of his biceps as your ears ring too loud for you to really hear his own whimpering of your name.
he tips his head forward as he cums, resting his forehead against yours, taking in and memorising every soft little detail of your face. there’s a faint voice in the back of his head telling him that he might not ever see it again, at least not like this. it really scares him, doesn’t it?
and it’s only because he knows that he has to, that joost then finds the strength to pull out once you’ve had a minute or two to ground yourself. you both can’t help but hiss at the feeling of it, even such a brief touch now far too much for either of you to bear anymore.
you’re scooped up into his arms before he rolls, tugging you up to lay flat across his chest as he settles to rest on his back. with your cheek pressed firmly against him, you can hear his heartbeat, a little elevated but steady, threatening to lull you to sleep as his palms caress up and down your spine. it’s all too warm, too safe; you lose the fight of trying to keep your eyes open for another moment longer.
“you don’t have to stay, you know. it’s okay.”
the way that joost frowns at that is immediate, and he brings a hand up to gently tuck a few strands of fallen hair back behind your ear. “why wouldn’t i want to stay?”
you just shrug against him, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. “i don’t know, they normally don’t.”
he’s quick to rebuttal. “well what if i wanted to?”
and it's almost lazy how you then drag your head up to face him, resting your chin on his sternum. for as sweet as his smile is, you can see that it doesn’t really reach his eyes fully — there’s something a little sad in the way that he gazes at you, hugging you to him a little tighter as he does.
“even in all the mess?”
there’s a puddle of something, of one of you or maybe a mixture of the two seeping into the sheets beside him. you’re both still painfully sticky, still covered in a thick layer of sweat that the stuffy air around you is only exacerbating, and laying on top of the covers instead of underneath them.
the thought of his clean, untouched bed back at his own hotel doesn’t even cross his mind. only a quick, cold shower with you does, if either of you can even find the willpower for that.
contains: gn!reader, established relationships, fluff, suggestive content, weed (for trinity's), food (for samira's and parker's), possibly incorrect tamil in samira's, possibly incorrect tagalog in trinity's and perlah's, possibly incorrect farsi in baran's (also feel free to correct any of them! i only speak english and spanish but thought it would be cute to include their native languages 🥹)
a/n: this wasn't meant to be anything but you caught me at a good time so here we are! took some creative liberty and added baran, parker, and perlah cause they're always on my mind (also thought that was gonna say faces, which i might write later 🤭) MEN AND MINORS DNI!
☾ taglist ╱ masterlist 𖤓
𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐒 :
This usually happens at the end of a long week, esp when you're smoking on her balcony.
Trinity is pressed against the back of her chair as your legs sit on either side of hers, joint between your lips. Her glazed, lidded eyes watch you as you take a long drag before slowly leaning in.
The second your lips touch, she sighs and presses closer, feeling the smoke push from your warm mouth to hers. She swallows it greedily, the intoxicating feeling in her blood only intensifying when you slide your free hand into her hair and scratch lightly at her scalp.
Tongue sliding between your lips, now it's your turn to moan as you let her lick into your mouth. Your hips grind down only once, but it's enough to drag out a quick whine from the woman beneath you.
Her hands sink into the meat of your waist and hold you close, her own pelvis slowly rolling upwards as she tries to devour you whole. You smile against her lips, smoke filtering out between you as you savor the combined taste of the weed and your girlfriend.
Air eventually becomes a necessity, and you pull back gingerly as Trinity chases after you, causing you to giggle. Pecking her pouty lips, you nip at one gently before resting your forehead against hers.
"I'm so high right now," Trinity mumbles, and you smile at her.
"Let's go inside, then."
Attempting to stand, she grabs you before you can and pulls you back to her lap, shaking her head.
"In a minute, mahal."
She leans in again, licking her lips.
"Not done kissing you."
𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍 :
"Smells good in here," a voice behind you calls, breaking the routine of you making breakfast. "That all for me, kanne?"
You turn around to find your girlfriend with a sleepy smile on her face, eyes adjusting to the lighting but still shining with affection, and your heart swells.
"Yeah. I'm making your favorite."
Telling her to sit on the couch, you bring a plate of food for each of you and fill up quickly, enjoying each other's company as you talk about nothing and everything.
Her eyes suddenly focus on your lips for a long moment before she leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"What was that for?" you ask.
"You have something, right..."
Samira leans in again, this time gently cupping your chin before her tongue darts out and swipes at the same spot.
"...There."
Leaning into the touch, her lips meld with yours, and she's soon pulling you into her lap, humming at the feeling of you wrapped around her.
"You taste sweet," she whispers after pulling back slightly.
"Mm..."
Dipping back down, you suck at her bottom lip before licking it with a small grin.
"So do you."
Brown eyes flicking between yours, she pulls you in quicker than you expect and you gasp in surprise. Samira takes the opportunity to take your tongue into her mouth and suck on it, dragging out a quiet moan from you as you melt into her touch.
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒 :
Climbing into the bathtub, you press your back against your lover's front as she hums in satisfaction. A soft kiss is pressed into the crook of your neck, and your eyes slide shut as she drags them up to your cheek.
"I love when we get to do this," Dana purrs.
You shake your head with a smile before turning around in her lap to face her.
"Oh, I'm sure you do."
She pinches your side, causing you to gasp in faux annoyance. You grab each of her hands in yours and pin them against the wall behind her, splashing water and bubbles against the tub around you both.
"You're gonna regret that."
Dana only grins knowingly, pressing her damp chest closer and bumping her nose against yours. A second later, she's kissing you lazily while still managing to knock the wind from your chest.
One of her thighs then slides upwards between yours and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your hips downwards, you feel the friction once again as Dana swallows the next few noises you make.
Tongues tangling, you eventually let her hands slip from your grasp as you wrap both arms around her neck, her lips molding perfectly against yours.
"You're so perfect," you breathe.
Licking into her mouth, it's then her turn to moan as her hands slide up your back and flatten over the wet skin there, feeling every inch of you she can reach.
𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐈 :
The telltale feeling of your wife stirring awake behind you causes your eyes to flutter before opening a moment later.
You feel an arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer, Baran tucking her head into the side of your neck and inhaling deeply.
"Hey, that tickles," you laugh.
A sleep-laden huff is all you get in return, and you turn around in your wife's hold to face her. When you do, you're met with the warmest brown eyes to ever grace the planet, the pair roaming over your face reverently.
Baran's free hand wraps around the back of your neck before she leans forward to press a firm kiss to your lips. Noses smashed together, she opens her mouth to deepen it, and your tongues brush.
Feeling a tap on your hip, you don't need any further direction before sliding onto your wife's lap, the sheets falling from your bodies to the mattress below.
Your hands run through her curls as you alternate between short pecks and deep kisses that bring out noises from each of you.
"You sure you don't want me to brush my teeth first?" you tease.
Your wife shakes her head ever so slightly before grazing your bottom lip with her teeth.
"Joon-am, you know I don't care about that."
She pulls you close once again, lips slotting together like pieces of a puzzle, and you sigh into her mouth, the rest of the morning passing by just like that.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐒 :
"Thank you for dinner, baby, that was delicious," you purr.
Sliding into the passenger seat of Parker's car, she gets in the driver's side and grasps your hand before bringing it up to her mouth and pressing a kiss to it.
"You know I love to spoil you."
Giving her a quick kiss, she gives you a look that you're very familiar with it, and you smile knowingly.
Both of you lean in at the same time, lips meeting in a slow but passionate kiss, and it doesn't take Parker long to deepen it before briefly pulling back.
"C'mere," she whispers.
Reattaching your lips, you climb over the center console and into her lap without breaking the kiss, the air being filled with the sounds of your breathing and the wet sounds of your lips. Back slightly arching, you dip your head to start pepping kisses around the woman's jawline, much to her appreciation.
Suddenly, the loud noise of the car horn rings out and the two of you break apart, stunned. After a moment, it registers and both of you start giggling at the intrusion.
Not a minute later, Parker slowly wraps her hands around the sides of your thighs and bumps your nose with hers.
"We just gotta be more careful this time."
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐈 :
"Sa wakas, tapos na. They're all asleep," a voice to your left breathes.
Looking over, you see your wife strolling over with a relieved smile before plopping onto the couch next to you. You rub her thigh as you start flicking through the TV channels with the remote in your other hand.
"Took long enough. I don't know what was up with them tonight."
Her fingers lace with yours and she squeezes them lightly, voice low as she drags out the next sentence.
"You know...this means we're finally alone."
Slowly, you turn to look at her with a twinkle in your eye as you cock your head.
"Is that right?"
Perlah's short hair sways as she nods in return, and you grin.
"Well then. Should we take advantage?"
Sliding your hand in her hair, you press your lips to hers at the same time you hook a leg over her lap and climb on top. Her hands instantly find your hips as you enjoy the feeling of each other and the rare peace and quiet of the house.
"Mm," Perlah hums, and you take your time dragging out each kiss, savoring the moment.
Her teeth graze your tongue when it briefly slips into her mouth, the sensation only adding to your arousal.
Lacing your fingers together behind her neck, you keep her close, getting lost in the moment and your wife.
WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf
WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol
₊˚⊹⋆ But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket.
₊˚⊹⋆ art by the amazing @spentandpent 🩷 here
₊˚⊹⋆ happy (late) birthday <3. part of normal au (previous parts here). set joost's birthday 2024 <3
₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader (she/her pronouns used). notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch
₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 7.3k
₊˚⊹⋆ cw(s): smut (established relationship, light exhibitionism, semi-public sex, remote control vibrator, slight aggu x reader, slight mention of m!receiving vibrator/assplay because i’m crazy, unprotected piv, creampie, customary joost fic drinking and smoking), normal au sappiness LETS GOOO
WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.
₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “agora hills” by doja cat, “pressure” by martin garrix ft. tove lo, “shu madame” by ski aggu, “heaven” by mitski (literal direct quote from this song LOL)
₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator ! au of an au where skiklein isn’t divorced 🩷 lowkey this is a bit normal au worldbuilding heavy! as always thank you to @howisjoostfanfictionforfree <333 my creative partner in crime !! not edited oops
18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!
You shouldn’t have brought a jacket.
At least, you shouldn’t have let Joost place his around your shoulders on the way here—it’s his birthday, shouldn’t he be the one being taken care of? Either way, you’re holding his hand as he navigates you to the booth your friends are already at, tugging at the collar as you brush past so many people, an endless supply of warmth cloaking you from all sides.
This would be fine any other November day in the Netherlands, so cold you contemplate moving somewhere warmer every year if not for your very proudly Dutch boyfriend keeping you here.
But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket.
You teeter on high heels; Christian Louboutin So Kates that Joost bought you a while ago and loves, your legs are weak, not at the thin stilettos, but at the dull pulsing between your legs of the remote control egg vibrator nestled securely between them. You two brought it home one day from the sex shop nearest your house, bright pink and surprisingly high tech, an app used to control it through Bluetooth. Even on the lowest setting, it’s strong and steady, and you’re really trying to keep it together as it pushes against your g-spot with every step forward.
Joost pulls you next to him by the hand and puts his arm around you. “You are doing so amazing, mijn schat,” he says, kissing your temple as you squeeze in between people together, and you nod.
“I better be.”
“Much better than I did.”
The policy is always this: you will never try something he wouldn’t try himself first. It’s only fair, considering the multitudes of ideas he has about things you two should try in (and out) of the bedroom.
His turn: you lubing up your fingers and fingering him open, him slipping the vibrator inside himself, you impishly giggling about the app controls and how pretty it all looked when you knew he’d be destroyed in a matter of moments.
It was only a week ago—taking a walk in the park near your house at 3 AM together so no one would see you, your hand and your phone in your coat pocket going from low to high, low to high as he gritted his teeth and walked alongside you. You set it the highest vibration pattern it could go—a minute later, he was collapsed on the ground. “Is he alright?” a passerby asked you, eyes alarmed at your sweet boyfriend lying face down and practically convulsing.
“Yeah, he’s alright. Just weird,” you said, and you two shared a nod and they went along with their day. By the time you trudged back home, getting Joost to the edge and turning it off completely so he wouldn’t get any satisfaction, he was practically begging to be inside you.
It’s your turn now, but you didn’t exactly expect it to be on the first club outing of the night of his birthday. You’d given Joost his presents earlier today—some boudoir photoshoot pictures you had done months ago, Christian Louboutin boots he’s wearing tonight, a belt buckle of the copyright symbol you found thrifting, some gacha capsules and trinkets you got in secret on your trip to Japan together, a long handwritten letter (5 pages!) waxing poetic about your small and beautiful life with him that he cried at when he read it over the breakfast you brought him this morning.
There are more presents to be given later today, all planned and gift wrapped, but this one—all indulgence, no planning, no stipulations about how far he can go and when it’ll end for you. Joost asked you if you could do it when you were getting dressed together before this. Pretty black lingerie he got you on a trip to Paris, a dress he surprised you with from some big fashion house, helping you slip on the shoes he so kindly bought you when he asked you on his knees—”Please, schat, can I use it on you tonight?” and you couldn't resist that look on his face, those big blue eyes.
“Very proud of you, mijn schat,” Joost yells over the music as you near your table. Everyone’s too distracted already to acknowledge you or your strangeness—Tantu and Joost dap each other up, but Ruby is off somewhere else; Appie and Alanis and Stuntje are doing a drinking game they’re very focused on; Aggu (Aggu???) and Marina (Aggu and Marina???) are talking with each other very intently, his arm on the back of the booth behind her. “Do you think you can get us some drinks?”
You look back up at him, eyes wide. “By myself?”
“It’s my birthday, baby. I wanna sit down.”
Rolling your eyes, you let him slip into the booth and turn away, annoyed and feeling faint already. The vibrator feels bigger than it looks, pulses harder than it already is; the pattern is periodic like an alarm clock. Once you're halfway to the bar, you look back to Joost and he’s on his phone and torturing you manually—you want to yell, want to scream. In agony, or pleasure?
There’s so many people at the bar—so many of them you recognize from weekends upon weekends and term breaks after the other partying with Joost and your friends. Some of them you know better than others; Mia and Femke who do Joost’s makeup from time to time; Luuk (Luuk???) from work; Thijs and Enzo and Myron and Brunzyn and Donnie and Donny and oh, this is going to be really bad, isn’t it?
You bob and duck your head—hopefully no one recognizes you as you try and reach an empty stretch of bar where you can hold onto as the vibrations get stronger and stronger. The DJ tonight is playing Buurman Uit Berlijn and you’re unsure if it’s the thrumming bass of the song or the thing stuck inside you that’s dizzying and all-consuming. As you reach out for the bar, you close your eyes and focus.
The mass of dancing and yelling bodies behind and next to you, the pink and purple strobe lights flashing all around, your boyfriend’s music loud and blaring through the speakers, these beautiful torture devices of heels, the sweat sheen on the back of your neck, the matching wetness between your thighs as the high intensity vibration subsides and turns more mellow.
Joost has finally given you reprieve.
In waiting for the bartender to get to you, you feel like you’re looking over your shoulder like a madman every second, scared of looking suspicious, but scared of making eye contact with any of the people you know. You stand pin straight, scared of moving it any further, scared of pressing it into your spot. From your right, you hear your name and wince, preparing for some acquaintance or worse—one of Joost’s close friends that you’ve said hi to once but don’t know very well past that.
Turning—it’s just Ruby, and you breathe a sigh of relief once she bounds up to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug as if you and her haven’t spent the last week together upon her return with Tantu.
She pulls away from you and you give her a small smile, realizing that the pulses have subsided completely, and you can let your guard down for a moment.
The smile you give her must not be very convincing—“You look like you're about to be sick, my darling,” Ruby says, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to test out your temperature. She’s going to be disappointed when she finds out the real reason you’re feeling hot.
“I’m fine,” you say softly, shaking your head. The only person you’re trying to convince at this point is yourself. “Don’t worry, I—“You open your mouth to speak, but the toy just—Joost is so mean to you. So, so mean, because he’s turned it up more, seconds long stretches of it pulsing hard and fast and then nothing, over and over again. Does he have a clear view of this from the booth? Does he just know? All you can get out is a little sigh, hopefully one she wasn’t able to hear over the loud music and all the talking. You close your lips and try to shake it off.
“Cat got your tongue?” she giggles, then yells to the bartender who you didn’t even know came over, “Two Bacardi colas, thank you!”
“Thank you, I appre—” you close your eyes as the vibrations become incessant, punching against every part of you. You can imagine Joost’s face back at the table, grinning, pupils dilated and hungry for how embarrassingly wet you are between the legs. “Ruby. For reasons. For reasons I cannot say, I have to pause speaking. I’m going to hold onto you for balance. Please do not say anything about this to anyone,” you say as you drop your head, trying to hide your face from her as you let out a groan.
Even without seeing her reaction, you’re sure Ruby knows what’s up—you shared a wall for almost four years until she moved to Berlin after graduating, and you’ve heard your fair share of each other’s activities. When you pop back up, gritting your teeth in a grimace that’s supposed to be a smile, Ruby’s giving you a look of surprise and then she rolls her eyes.
“I can't believe you two, you're disgusting!” she laughs, throwing her head back and giving your arm a squeeze. “You’re both freaks, I guess you were made for each other. Anyways—“
Ruby goes into a long tangent about the new apartment she’s about to move into next to her work building in Berlin, how she hopes the album will finally just drop soon so Tantu can stop fussing over the finishing touches, how she really thinks you probably should get back to the table because you’re white-knuckling the sticky bar and it’s concerning her—she’s trying to give you an out by talking to you normally, but you're really unable to get with the program.
The bartender comes back to you with the two drinks and Ruby hands them to you—”Do you want me to help?” No, you shake your head, because you’re trying to prove yourself to someone, you’re not sure if that’s you or Joost. “Good luck, babe.”
You teeter back with two Bacardi colas in hand and a calmer vibration keeping you intact for your journey back; if you spilled these drinks all over yourself, you’d have some very choice words for Joost later, and his birthday would be spoiled. But as you near the table (not without Myron trying to wave you over, and you throwing an apologetic look and a raise of your glasses her way, Mia making eye contact with you but you pretending not to notice), you find your stride, and can actually seem to walk without hunching into yourself to hide. Maybe this won’t be bad after all.
Tantu’s seemed to join in on the drinking game with the others, Aggu and Marina watching them as you place down the Bacos in front of Joost. “Thank you, mijn hart,” he says looking up at you and pursing his lips for a kiss which you give him. Bending over is a terribly bad idea, you find out, the angle of the vibrator adjusting to your new position, and it hits you head on—you open your eyes and glare at him, and he gives you a big smile, kissing you on the cheek.
It sours your expression even more when you see how close these quarters are, how Tantu and Appie are practically squished together as Stuntje and Marina have a chugging contest, how even with Ruby still at the bar, there isn’t any room for you.
“There’s nowhere to sit, you can sit on my lap.”
“I can see that,” you mumble, taking off your jacket and giving it to Joost before perching on his lap, his left thigh underneath your ass and the bottom of the table above your legs.
“Having fun, baby?” Joost says into your neck, the grin on his mouth evident as you sit back on him.
“Having the worst time, Joosti.”
“Aw, why is that? It’s my birthday, it’s the second best day of the year—what’s not to love?”
“The demonic object you’ve placed inside of me, that’s what’s not to love.”
You haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to everyone or even say hi—the night’s not about you but they’re still your friends. After the drinking games are over, you’ll have to face them, and they’ll talk to you, and your guilt will be all over your face and you’ll never be able to show yourself at this club ever again.
You pick a piece of glitter off his cheek, brush some off the thick black rim of his glasses—he’s wearing that jacket he got a while back, the one he wore at Jere’s gig all adorned with pink fabric and women dominating men and “BRAT” over its leopard print background. This jacket exemplifies him perfectly, and you knew that when you recommended it for him to buy.
“Don’t worry, schat, I told them you were tired from work. They won’t bother you.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother if you just turned it off.”
“That is no fun, isn't it? I think you should have thought about that in the park last week if you wanted me to be nice.” Joost’s hands run along your sides, snake to your front, splay out on your stomach as he hugs you closer, his chin on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t embarrass you, lieverd,” he says softly, and your nerves are soothed. He kisses your neck and automatically, you roll it to give him more space to kiss, to nip at your skin. “You can trust me.”
Everyone’s so distracted—what do you even have to worry about? Your group lets out a collective shout, whoops and claps at Marina beating Stuntje decisively even though she looks positively disgusted at the taste of the beers she emptied. Tonight is good—no one is paying attention to you; Joost is absentmindedly mouthing at your pulse point, at your jaw, the stupid vibrator and the terrible app forgotten, apparently.
You sling your arm around his neck and he brings you closer.“ You haven’t even touched your drink, Joost,” you say, cupping his cheek as he kisses yours, trailing his lips against it until he reaches your own and kisses you deeply, fingers squeezing your thigh as his hand inches up.
“The drinks can wait.”
“Can you? We’re in public, remember?”
“They probably won’t even remember tonight, what’s it matter?”
From behind you, Aggu’s deep voice in German, the small vocabulary you know from Ruby: “I feel left out, mausi,” said amused, said with Joost’s hand almost between your legs.
A nickname you gained from your short time on the Friesenjung set, the few interactions you had with August, as he introduced himself.
You’d never felt intimidated by anyone Joost’s introduced you to—you weren’t even intimidated by Joost when you first met at this very club. You weren’t intimidated by the Dutch celebrities he’d introduced you to; not the Slavs or the Swedes; not Otto, even when he’d treated you and Joost to a Michelin starred dinner and told stories about his decades in the industry.
Your appearance was a surprise to no one except for Joost—you told him you had work and couldn’t be there for him on the first day of filming. When you showed up, hiding behind your friends you knew on set, you’d made the mistake of not hiding well enough; in the middle of a scene, he spotted you behind someone’s shoulder, entire face lighting up and so happy, he dropped what he was doing and sped to you, hugging you and picking you up off the ground.
“Joost!” you scolded, laughing as he kissed you on the cheeks. “Please, there’s so many people around.”
“I thought you said you had work?!” Joost said, kissing you again as the people around you dispersed, the scene they were filming fully interrupted now.
“I wanted to be here for you, it’s a big day.”
His scene partner and someone you’d (sort of) talked to over Facetime when Joost would call him to talk about the song sauntered over, and Joost pulled away from you, keeping his hand around your waist. “This is Aggu, lieverd, and Aggu, this is—“ he gave him your name, “my baby,” “love of my life,” “the busiest person on the planet,” “mein schatz, or whatever you guys say here,” attached to the end of it, and you nodded.
“That’s me,” you say softly to the other blonde mulleted man now entering your life. You held out your hand to shake and then regretted your decision remembering that it was 2023–who shakes hands in 2023?
Nonetheless, Aggu shook yours. Big hand but a gentle handshake, eyes intense but soft at the same time. You could barely meet them and it seemed like both Joost and August knew. “Wie eine maus,” he said, and you could use enough context clues to figure out what he said about you. “I’m August.”
There was something different about August—Aggu. Even if he was just as rambunctious as your boyfriend, he was quieter than he looked. This aloof, masculine energy seemed to just exude off of him without him having to announce any of it. Half of his face was covered most of the time you saw him, but you already knew he had reason to be so confident.
As with most interesting things in your life—meeting him on your own happened out on a curb outside of the actual party. Later that day, there was a scene filmed at a corner store, and it turned into a party that went into night, 50 people crammed into the tiny establishment. You took a smoke break while Joost went to the bathroom, and there Aggu was, right behind you, right next to you.
“You know, you’re very cute,” he said, and you practically sputtered out your drink, practically dropped your cigarette on the ground.
“I’m Joost’s girlfriend,” you informed though you were sure he knew, and he nodded.
“I know. He never stops talking about you.”
“Do you care?”
Aggu laughed, and you smiled at the ground. “I do.” You offered your cigarette, and he shook his head. “Just surprised, you are so different from him.”
“We’re surprised sometimes, too.”
Aggu turned to you and you shared a look. You dropped the stub on the ground, the music spilling over and out of the corner store. Wind rustled your hair, and still, he was gazing at you.
“Baby,” Joost called from behind you, and he was next to you in an instant.
“I was just talking to Aggu—“
“August,” he corrected. “August,” you repeated softly, and you felt like…like something was being interrupted, but you weren’t even sure what.
“Bye, mausi,” Aggu said, leaving you and Joost.
The entire exchange was strange—still couldn’t speak firmer or louder than this, couldn’t even look him in the eye in front of Joost. Joost poked fun at you for being so shy—“What’s the matter, baby? He doesn’t bite.”
“For some reason, I don’t believe that.”
Tonight, Aggu isn’t wearing the goggles—he’s a handsome man with or without them, but you prefer the look without him, getting to see his full face.
“Why don’t you talk to Aggu, mausi?” Joost snickers and you roll your eyes.
“You don’t look like you do PDA,” Aggu says, and your cheeks burn. You were never the type to before Joost, but now here you are with a remote-control vibrator inside and his lips on your jaw as you try to speak with his friend.
“I don’t?” You ask, knowing full well you don’t.
Joost cups you over your tits, and you almost gasp—He’s normally not so handsy, even if you two are the worst perpetrators of public affection in your group by far.
“Joost,” you say softly, shaking your head and moving his hand down even though it’s strangely—it’s strangely arousing having him claim you so decisively in front of Aggu.
“He doesn’t care,” Joost says, but keeps his hand where it is, right under the curve of your breast.
“I don't care,” Aggu confirms, and you roll your eyes as Joost kisses behind your ear. “Are you two going to do anything for Joost’s birthday?”
“We’re—Joost, let me talk to him,” you giggle as Joost nips at your neck. “We’re going to Portofino after Joost goes to Berlin.”
“No invitation for me?” Aggu teases and you roll your eyes, smiling. “It was my birthday a few days ago too, you know?”
“You’d have to ask Joost for one, I don't make the rules.”
Joost pauses his lips on you to turn to Aggu and says a simple and decisive, “No,” then turns back to your bitten neck, your jaw. You’re half sure he’s doing this for his own pleasure—it feels like you’re being pecked at by an annoying, albeit very cute and enthusiastic bird.
“I would take you if I could, Aggu,” you joke, and Aggu gives you a surprised look. Finally, Joost lets off of you, and you can finally turn to your conversation partner fully and give him some attention.
“Braves mädchen, do you think your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“He likes you—he won’t.” Under you, Joost starts tapping his toe—nothing to distract him now, you guess, his leg moving under you.
“Nahhh, he’s the jealous type, no? At least when it comes to you.”
You laugh until you don’t—until you widen your eyes, dropping your mouth open and furrowing your eyebrows because wave after wave after wave of pure pleasure hits your g-spot, the vibrations so strong they go through the tail and reach your clit, and you have to stifle a moan by covering your mouth with your hand. You turn back to see Joost on his phone—still restlessly tapping his foot, moving the vibrator even more inside of you.
“Are you alright, mausi?”
“She’s alright, just weird,” Joost snickers from behind, using your words from the past against you.
“I’m-I’m just fine, Aggu,” you say as you clench your thighs together and give him a thin smile, looking back at Joost who’s trying to hide his face from you, thumb still moving on his phone screen.
“You look—“
“I just—oh my god,” you sigh out, clenching your fist as you involuntarily rock back onto Joost and his jostling knee under you, the vibrator being turned up all the way and turning your brain into mush as it kisses your g-spot. You can’t even begin to care about what this looks like, or the fact that Aggu is watching you and your face contorted in pleasure, as much as you’re trying to control yourself.
“Ah,” Aggu says.
Just from the look of amused disbelief on his face, the way his eyes flit down at your hands in your lap desperately trying to cover your thighs though there’s nothing to cover up, at least to the eye—you’ve been caught.
“Joost, what is that?” he says, then leans behind you so Joost can show him the app, the wavelengths on the screen sure to be high frequency. Aggu moves his hand behind you—is he really letting Aggu control it right now? Judging from his movements and the changing patterns of your
Aggu daps Joost up, then gives you a sly smile and a pat on the cheek. “Don't worry, schatzi, I will keep your secret.”
He looks around at your friends; Ruby and Tantu lazing on the very end, Stuntje and Appie and Alanis and Marina having a heated discussion about something you can’t hear over the music, over the exchange happening between the men on either side of you.
“Come on, Joost. You’re being mean to her,” Aggu says as Joost brings his arms back around your waist, placing you more on his crotch than his legs. His phone is in his hands (as usual), but this time, he’s got the app wide open.
The vibrations are at the very top of the little control area, and you can feel it as you drop your head again, concealing your face completely so you can revel in the pleasure without anyone watching.
Does Joost feel it right now, as you grind back on his lap without even meaning to? Through his jeans, he’s hard, and you can feel it clearly on your ass.
“She can take it.”
“Can you?” Aggu asks, turning to you, and you nod almost automatically, even as your thighs start tensing with the lead up to an orgasm. “Whatever you say, schatz.”
Enough of him—you shift so you're turned away, mostly facing the crowd, mostly facing Joost. You drape your arms around his neck, face scrunching up, mouth dropping open as the vibrations pulse hard and fast so deep inside you.
“Feel good?” Joost says, and you nod, trying to keep it together even as that knot ties in your stomach. He watches your face intently, pupils blown out and his hand rubbing circles on your back as you hold back a sob. The song over the speakers is Normalje Bass, the bass booming through your body inside-out. You hope and pray none of your friends are watching—you know Aggu is, even if your face is hidden from him.
“I’m cumming,” you say as quietly as you can, lips parting with your quiet sighs as the waves of your orgasm start, so intense from all of the internal stimulation.
“I know,” Joost soothes. “Just kiss me.”
You moan into his mouth, pushing against him so he can muffle your sounds; you know that even if you were louder than this, the music would just drown you out, but his lips on yours, his hands on your body—they relax you. Joost moves his big hand to the nape of your neck, licking into your mouth.
He tastes like cigarette smoke, smells like his heady cologne, nose bumping against yours. You gasp into his mouth as the vibrations continue, whining as it takes you past your point, your legs shaking with the comedown of your climax but the continued overstimulation inside of you.
“Zo vies, holy shit guys,” Marina yells over the music so you can hear, fake gagging, which earns you a chorus of more fake gagging from the rest, clapping from Ruby and Tantu.
“It’s my birthday—ik mag doen wat ik wil.” Joost laughs, waving them off. At the same time, he takes out his phone and turns off the vibrator completely, and every muscle in your body relaxes, the waves subsiding.
Joost gives a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek as you try and catch your breath as subtly as possible. “You did so good, lieverd.”
You nod, giving him his own kiss on his cheek for letting up on the toy. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” you breathe, and he grins.
“You don’t need a break—”
“Nope. Let’s go.”
Standing, you get off his lap and pull at the hem of your dress as you wait for Joost to get up. Your legs are still a bit shaky, the heels not helping at all, but you're too excited to go.
“Leaving so soon?” Marina pouts, her head on Alanis’ shoulder and big eyes shining at you. You almost want to stay, but—you want Joost inside of you more.
“They’ll be back,” Ruby teases, rolling her eyes at you both. Cheeks burning as you smile, you shake your head.
“Maybe,” you say, it’s Joost—this is only the beginning of the night.
Joost gets up from the booth, his hand on the small of your back immediately and guiding you away. Before you can go, Aggu holds his hand out to your boyfriend—“You’re a lucky man. Can I come?” Aggu grins, winking at you.
“Fuck no, man,” he says, dapping him up, and you laugh as Joost takes your hand and pulls you along with him through the sea of people all dancing and drinking to his music, all of the friends you and him have made over the years. You give quick hellos to everyone you know, saying sorry and you’ll talk to them later—you’re half sure everyone knows where you’re headed, but you can't seem to care tonight.
You and Joost are almost to the staircase, not without making several stops to have people wish him gefeliciteerd, hugs for both of you, promises to catch up later, there’s just something you both need to do. The first step on it, a raspy voice yells behind you, “Joostttt!!!” and you look to see Donnie, long hair in French braids and expensive jewelry all along his wrists as he pulls you in for a hug that you reciprocate. “Mijn meisje, how are you doing?”
“I’m good, Donnie, how are you?”
“Good, good, celebrating your boy,” he yells, reaching behind you to dap Joost up, the excitement at seeing each other heavy on their raspy laughs as Joost hugs him.
Your boy doesn't think you understand Dutch as well as you do, even after 5 years of him giving you impromptu Juolingo (as he calls them) lessons and even longer living here—“Don’t go to the bathroom for the next 20 minutes, man, alright?” he says to Donnie in the language, and you roll your eyes at his boldness.
“20 minuten? Christ, man, jullie zijn allebei verdomd gek,” he laughs in disbelief.
“Het duurt 10 minuten, Donnie, maak je geen zorgen!” you yell back as Joost keeps pulling you up the stairs, and Donnie cackles as you leave him behind.
There are several bathrooms downstairs, but the one you’re headed to is upstairs and down a hallway and another, so far away from the action it’s no wonder no one uses it—your favorite bathroom to use for…activities, seldom used yet still seedy as hell, the old fluorescents warm and flickering, the mirrors cracked and grimy. The sinks and the stalls are always relatively clean though; whether it’s from the lack of use or the club owners actually upkeep it, you don’t know and don’t care as you step into the middle of the three stalls, you and Joost’s favorite one.
Even if you know that there’s no one in here, the drip of the leaky faucets echoing against walls and not other people, Joost still bends down and checks under and between the stall gaps for you before squeezing into the tight stall with you, locking it.
Joost takes you by the arms and turns you around so you won't have to touch the slightly gross toilet at any part. “Finally alone,” he breathes, taking your face in his hands and giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose, which you laugh at.
“What’s that for?” you say as Joost kisses both of your cheeks, then your lips three times in quick succession.
“I missed you!”
“I sat on your lap the entire time.”
“You weren’t facing me—I missed you!”
You pinch his cheek and smile—how lucky you are to spend his birthday together. It wasn’t always like this; whether it was the constant cat-and-mouse game you both played in the beginning of your relationship or your job and school or his abundance of creative projects, every birthday over Facetime and belated celebration makes you love Joost and this even more.
“You look very sappy,” Joost says, hands on your hips as you brush his bangs back then cup his face.
“I am sappy,” you say softly, and he laughs and kisses you.
“We don't have time to be sappy—you said 10 minutes to Donnie, didn’t you? Mean, by the way.” Joost takes your hand and kisses your wrist, the silver chrome pendant of his initial dangling from the chain link bracelet he bought you last anniversary. “But I am sappy too, I hope you know.”
He pretends to chomp on your hand before pulling you in for another kiss. “I’m so happy you're with me.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “Best birthday ever.” Kiss.
Last year was the best birthday ever, too—you're just glad it only gets better. “I love you too.” Joost squeezes you tight and you groan once he squeezes you too tight, laughing once he lets go.
“Sorry, I just love you.”
“I know,” you say, patting Joost on the chest then running your hands down to his new copyright belt buckle, undoing it. He’s so obviously hard, it’s laughable thinking about how he walked through a crowd greeting his friends with a big tent in his jeans.
You mouth at his neck, saying a quiet, “Hi Lola,” which he laughs at as you kiss along the side, sucking on the skin just slightly—he marks so easily and you've both already made it so obvious what you’re doing at his own birthday celebration.
Reaching into his pants, you wrap your hand around his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps, the head already leaking precum. Joost smiles into your kiss—such a great birthday present for him. You suck his lower lip into your mouth momentarily, then come back together again, one hand lightly squeezing over the column of his neck, and his dick twitches in your hand in response.
“Every time,” he whispers, shaking his head at his own arousal giving him away.
“Mhm,” you hum. “That's why I do it.”
You give him a few more jerks before turning around to face the other way.
There are so many Joost doodles from your years together at this club, adding onto the muddled canvas on top of the stripping paint. Your favorite doodle inside your favorite stall is one you have to look up at. A heart around your name + JOOST in thick black Sharpie on the stall door in a little gap between all the graffiti, the dick drawings…the “Ruby was here ♡” in swirly cursive around eye level. Huh. Interesting. You never noticed that one before.
“Hehe. Us!” Joost says, pointing with his finger at your names together like he didn’t write it there around a year ago.
“Us,” you say, touching it with your finger.
There isn’t much time for you to focus on it when Joost snakes his arms around you, one hand reaching into the cups of your dress to knead your tits, and the other reaching under it so he can rub you over your panties.
“I almost forgot the thing was still inside you,” he murmurs, tugging at the tail of it gently, which makes you sigh out in pleasure. “My new favorite toy, but let me take it out.”
Placing your hands on the stall door, you bend over a little, which is really, about as much as you can bend with how tiny this space is. A few moments pass and you look back to see Joost kneeling on the ground—“Are you…seriously on your phone right now?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Sorry,” Joost says, squeezing your thigh. “I just have an idea.”
“Okay,” you say, shimmying your thong down with your fingers and letting it fall to your ankles. You lift up the back half of your dress, exposing your ass.
Finally, Joost places his fingers on the back of your thigh, tugs it using his thumb and forefinger again. Slowly, he pulls it out of you and the impossibly wet sound of it, Joost’s eyes so intent on you, makes your cheeks burn fire. You clench around air—it feels so empty now.
Joost bites your ass cheek, and to your surprise, licks a strip up your slit, which makes you have to hold onto the stall. You turn to look and he's giving you an exaggerated pout. “Can I eat you out?” he asks earnestly, big blue eyes pleading with you and you shake your head no.
“What does it look like ditching your own celebration for so long? When we get home you can do it.”
“Fine,” Joost grumbles, getting back up. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times, spreading the precum down his shaft. He swipes the head through your slit, dipping the tip inside of you a few times, “My god, you’re so wet, schat,” he says, and you can feel it, the smooth and frictionless glide of him through you, “This is crazy.”
“Stop fucking teasing, oh my god,” you sigh, and as you say it, Joost still teases you, the tiniest little thrusts with your pussy enveloping only the head of his cock.
“Bossy,” he mumbles, and then you hear the familiar loud vibration of the pink toy in his hand. You look at him with wide eyes and he shrugs. “We can use it while we do this.”
“Mmm…okay,” you say, turning back around and getting ready for him to enter you again. Joost wraps his arms around you again, one holding the toy to your mound and sending the vibrations through your body again, the other cupping your tits from below.
Slowly, Joost thrusts inside of you, the wet slide of his cock inching inside of you making you shudder. Once he bottoms out, his hips snug against your ass, he whispers into the side of your face, “Ik hou van je,” and you nod, eyes closed in intense pleasure at how big he feels, the pulsing vibrations on your clit.
Joost pulls you back onto him by the hip, thrusting forward at the same time so they punch against your g-spot even harder. The moans just tumble out of his mouth, strangling out your name, various curses, his pace steady but unforgiving to you in the throes of your arousal. In this position, he’s so big, and you’re so wet, and the vibrator is so strong—you could collapse.
“So good, baby,” Joost breathes out against your shoulder, and you turn your head to kiss him. He does, but at the same time pressing the toy even harder against your bud, making you sob out his name, clenching around him. “Taking me so well, baby, so good.”
Your shared moans and breaths bounce off the tile walls, the clack of your heels as you adjust your stance to get him deeper inside of you, Joost’s raspy voice in your ear and his teeth in your neck. The sound of your pussy around him fucking into you incessantly—you should be ashamed at how filthy it sounds, but you aren’t, and you know Joost isn’t either.
Joost slows down his hips, and you whine at the stalled pace—“Mijn schat, can I see you?” Joost asks, breathless as he slides out of you with that sound again that’s music to your ears, and you turn to face him, wetness smearing your thighs. The vibrations subside completely again, and Joost takes the vibrator off of you.
“I want to see you, too,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “But how are we gonna do that?”
“You’ll just have to trust me.”
“That isn’t hard to do.”
Reaching down, he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up and you help hike it up for him. The palm of his hand is under your bent knee, and you look back up at him to tilt your head and give him a confused face.
“Did you see this in like, a video or something?” you laugh, especially looking down at the absurdity of it all; crammed in the smallest bathroom stall known to man, crotches together, teetering on a high heel while your boyfriend holds up your leg for you.
“Being away from you so often,” he says, hiking your leg up further and making you yelp and laugh as you almost fall. “It means I get lots of ideas about how I want you.”
Joost wraps your arms around his shoulders, his neck so you can have better balance—the heels make you perfectly in line with his cock and you both look down and watch as he uses his free hand and his hips to guide his cock into you slowly, parting your folds as it disappears inside of you. Your lips part, brows knit together at the feeling so perfect that you sob out once he bottoms out so deeply in you.
The sounds are so filthy when Joost starts thrusting, you might actually be ashamed of it for once; the hollow clap of his hips against your pelvis echoing against the dingy walls, the wet slide of his cock in and out and in and out of you—every moan out of your mouth is one you couldn’t dream of holding back, mewling into his jacket shoulder, clinging onto him and leopard print fabric tightly as he fucks into you, tight hand around your hip sliding him into you over and over again.
Usually you’re the one calling the shots around here, Joost hanging onto your every word as your sweet and loving life partner, but he’s got you in his palm, your hands clawing at the back of his jacket, gripping onto the long hair at the nape of his neck, your heavy breaths and choked out moans as you sob his name out.
“I’m close, schatje,” Joost breathes into your ear, his big hands kneading your ass as he thrusts, arms wrapped tight so he can keep your leg up for you with how much control you’ve lost over yourself at how amazing he feels inside of you. You nod, not really caring at all, close to the edge yourself and your hips tired from the position—it’s his birthday. He deserves this and more.
“I love you,” you breathe, resting your cheek on his shoulder and closing your eyes as your orgasm starts, the waves coming through you as you tighten and clench around his cock. You're so stretched open, it’s mind blowing for you, and Joost tells you such, babbling about how tight you feel, how good you are for him as you release hard and fast around him, muffling your sounds with his mouth.
This stall is so stuffy—sweat on sweat and when you open your eyes, Joost gazes at you, eyes half-lidded as he places your forehead against yours, thrusts firmly as his face contorts in pleasure, as the heat rises between you two, skin slapping on skin, all of your love filling all of the room.
“I love you, schat, I love you,” he says, kissing you as he groans out into your mouth, painting your walls white, warm and full as he gives you the final hard and stuttering few thrusts, fucking every last drop of his cum into you.
Joost licks into your mouth, spit on your chins as he softens inside of you, breathy moans coming out of him at the overstimulation of your movements. Now that you’ve both stilled, the setting his come back to you—the drippy faucet, the music bumping through the walls sounding like muffled nonsense though you know it’s Joost’s, the stall door cold against your back and the cum already leaking out of you around his cock.
“Joost, can you let go of my leg, please?” you say quietly, eyes closed as you catch your breath, both of you somehow lean against the stall door now, him panting into your neck, your leg around his hip.
“Oopsie,” Joost says, giving you a kiss on your neck before placing your leg on the floor gently and straightening up; he pulls the cups of your dress up so they’re covering your chest again, pulls the hem of it down your thigh so you aren’t so exposed. You can feel it drip down your inner thighs as he reaches down and brings your panties back up—Joost is so sweet. You’ll never get used to it.
“Happy birthday to me,” he sings, laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in.
“Happy birthday to you.”
i so appreciate all of your guys' patience with me when it comes to my writing and i hope you enjoyed!! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) askbox anon on hereeee - juno
sadly dont got the emoji on my keyboard but tattooes? maybe the reader has angel wings on their shoulder blades
That’s such a cute idea 🥹 Thank u for the request, anon! I’ve thought about writing tattooed!reader before, but never went through with it! And it’s funny cuz I got 2 requests asking for it hehe so I decided to do a SFW and a NSFW one. This is the SFW (slightly suggestive towards the end tho :P) Hope you like it!
LIKE AN ANGEL
Joost x gn!reader
Description: Reader gets a tattoo. Joost helps with the aftercare
Word count: 1.9k
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Persistent rays of sunlight illuminated the quiet bedroom through the blinds in a warm, yet annoying way. It should be well past Joost's usual wake up time judging by how bright the room was, and his sleepy eyes insisted on staying closed, trying to avoid the intrusion. How dare the sun interrupt his peaceful sleep on a Sunday morning? The brightness completely ignored his eyelids just like it was ignoring the blinds, and made him reluctantly open them - his sensitive blues being exposed to the light. A huff left his lips as he blindly searched for his office siren glasses on the nightstand. Once he found and put them on, everything became a bit more clear. Especially the sleeping form beside him. He smiled at the sight. His vision was still adapting itself, but he could perfectly see how your soft breaths made your body move ever so slightly. Joost wrapped an arm around your waist, carefully not to press his chest against your back. He planted a chaste kiss on your neck, pulling away to observe the ink on your shoulder blades. The same ink that didn't allow him to hide his sleepy face against you - something that usually helped Joost protect his eyes from the piercing sunlight. He didn't want to risk putting pressure on your new tattoo. Your skin was still very sensitive from the session you'd had the previous day. Still, he couldn't help himself from kissing the area between the two angel wings, right where the fabric of the tank top you were wearing covered your skin. The touch of his lips was so featherlight, almost like a whisper, yet it made you stir. His hand slid to your lower back as soon as he felt you start to turn, stopping you from doing it.
"Hey, baby, careful." Plump lips murmured against your skin, right below your ear. "Your new tat." Another sweet kiss met your neck while his hand returned to its previous spot.
You just mumbled something in response, too lazy to fully wake up. He chuckled, massaging your waist under your shirt for a bit before gently grabbing your chin and making you turn your head for a kiss on the lips.
"Mmm good morning~" You hummed after the shared moment of affection.
"Goedemorgen, schat~" His deep, morning voice purred in your ear, the rough sound pleasantly scratching your brain. "Or should I call you 'my angel'?" He grinned, running a finger between your shoulder blades. "You know... this looks really good on you. Really pretty."
It took you a second to register he was talking about your new tattoo, your mind still clouded with sleepiness. But once you did, you melted at the compliment. His voice sounded just like he was in the presence of a real angel, like your inked wings were real and he was witnessing an ethereal creature wake up right beside him.
"Thank you... I'm glad you like it, because it hurt like hell."
"What?" He asked in a confused tone and you frowned. Had he seriously not paid attention to your complaints while you two were leaving the shop? Did the hand squeeze during the session tell him nothing at all?!
"What do you mean 'what'? You know this wasn't an easy tat."
"You mean to tell me you weren't born with these?" He kept his little act, making you roll your eyes at the same time that you cracked a smile.
"No. Can you believe it?" You decided to play along.
"Can't believe they forgot to send you with wings. An undercover angel, I see." He started giving you a series of kisses on the fabric of your tank top. "Finally making your presence known." A sneaky hand kneaded your waist. "But I've always known your little secret." He giggled at his own words, pulling away to look at your reaction.
"You are very cheesy, you know?"
"You love it."
You smiled. Yes, you did love it.
"How are you going to shower with this?" He asked, already on a different train of thought.
"Uh, the same way you did when you got yours?"
"All alone, baby? You know I can help, right?"
"I could actually use some help... It's kind of a difficult spot to reach..."
"Oh I know, but don't worry, I'm going to run you a nice bath and make sure that tattoo is well taken care of." He gave a sweet peck to your temple, immediately getting up.
"Wait, right now?"
"Yes, my love, don't forget you have to apply the ointment a few times throughout the day. You gotta start now."
You watched as he walked towards the bathroom, but not before adding a quick "I'll be right back".
The sound of the water filling the tub could be heard in the bedroom, almost lulling you back to sleep. Or maybe it was the thought that Joost was going to take care of you that made you relax. He was always so good to you. So gentle and loving. And he showed it especially in the little things. How he was preparing everything for your tattoo aftercare, how he re-entered the room just to kiss you softly and tell you the water was ready, how he carefully picked you up in his arms, carrying your still sleepy body to the bathroom. Legs wrapping around his waist while lazy arms were clinging to his neck. Joost slowly put you down, helping you take off your clothes and taking his in the process. He guided you to the bathtub and sat behind you, kissing your shoulder while avoiding the inked area. His every move was controlled and gentle, always making sure you felt comfortable. You just wanted to rest your back against his chest, like you always did, but you knew you had to be mindful of your tattoo.
"The healing phase sucks." You muttered with a pout.
"It's only been like a day since you got that!" He laughed.
"A very long day."
"Then it's gonna be a huge month." He let out another chuckle at your groan, gently caressing your thighs before turning on the water. He set it to a lukewarm temperature, letting it cascade down your shoulders. "Comfortable?" At your soft hum, he moved his hands to where the tattoo bandage was. "Alright, let's take this off then." Carefully, he pulled it off your skin, watching as some ink dripped down your back. Soon enough, you felt his big hand massaging your shoulder blades and helping clean the sore area. It felt so nice you almost purred.
"Joost," You slurred as he started washing it with the mild soap. "'M gonna fall asleep like this~"
"Ja? Getting sleepy again?" He grinned lazily.
"Mhm, your touch feels really good."
"You feel really good." His mouth found your neck, kissing it tenderly. "My sleepy little angel~"
You felt more water hit the skin of your shoulders in a gentle caress, rinsing the soap and some ink.
"You're just missing the halo now. It's not that you need it. You're already my sweet angel. Mijn lieve engel." He showered you in compliments as he washed the rest of your body with your usual soap. "But this tattoo is really perfect. You're perfect. I can't wait to kiss these beautiful wings."
"I want you to kiss them so badly."
"And I will, baby. Once it's healed, I'll be all over them. I'm gonna kiss them senseless. You'll see."
You chuckled at his 'mark my words' tone. He was adorable when he got like this. Like nothing else existed except you.
"Alright, I believe you." You struggled to say in the midst of your own giggles.
"You better." He whispered the words with a smile and quickly washed himself too, so that you both could get under the water and rinse off.
The water eliminated the remaining soap on your bodies. Joost always being careful not to let the suds get to the ink. And he did a damn good job. Faster than you could have done it yourself, you were out of the shower - a towel immediately being wrapped around you, while he grabbed his.
"Now we wait... half an hour and then I'll help you with the ointment." He patted the tattoo with a paper towel, proceeding to help you dry off the rest of your body.
You hated how long you had to wait for the tattoo to be completely dry before applying the ointment, but you knew it was necessary. Shyly, you turned around to check your angel wings in the mirror. The design really looked amazing, so everything was completely worth it. And having Joost lavishing it with attention was the cherry on top. He watched with a smile as your eyes appreciated the new addition, whispering in an absentminded way:
"Zo mooi..."
He let you observe the ink for a few more minutes before guiding you to the bedroom to get dressed. The both of you put on fresh clothes and headed towards the kitchen so Joost could make you breakfast, like he had insisted. Half an hour quickly went by. Always being pampered by your boyfriend. And you couldn't wait to be even more pampered. You longed to feel his big hands massaging your shoulder blades and telling you how beautiful you looked with your new tattoo. Especially when he kept rambling about how good he was going to take care of you.
Once you got upstairs again, you immediately sat on the bed, baring your back to Joost by lifting the new tank top you had put on. You were going to make sure he could see your new ink even if you were wearing clothes. And tank tops were the perfect way to do just that.
"Just look at you... wow..." He sighed as he sat on his heels behind you, hands instantly caressing your back. “This really suits you.” His mustache tickled your neck as he nuzzled against it, pressing soft kisses to your skin. “You look so sexy. Mwah!” Joost gave you a loud, final kiss before pulling away to reach for the Bepanthen. He squeezed it and allowed a small amount to go to his fingertip, letting out distracted “lalala”s in the process, making you smile. And then, his hands were on you again, on your inked skin, applying the ointment. “So soft~”
You barely caught his murmur from how quiet it sounded, almost like he was talking to himself. Or maybe your brain was too busy turning to mush to understand his words. A soothing sensation washed over you, and honestly? You weren’t so sure it came from the ointment. It was the type of relief you only felt when his hands were on you. They felt like Heaven against the tender area, massaging gently and making you relax. However, it didn’t last long.
“Babyyy!” You complained in a lazy voice.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” His lips pressed against your neck in a loving peck before he carefully pulled your shirt down and put the Bepanthen away.
“More.” Your tone made him laugh.
“What do you mean ‘more’? We can’t torture this pretty skin too much.”
“It wasn’t being torture…”
“To you. Not to your tat.” Another chuckle. “We gotta let it rest. Or else it won’t heal.”
“It was healing, though.”
“You know how that’ll heal?” He suddenly pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your waist. “If you just leave.it.alone.” He nibbled on your shoulder and you squeaked, letting out a giggle. “No touching. I have other ways of making my little angel feel good that don’t involve torturing these sweet wings.” Rough yet loving kisses met your neck, making more giggles come from you.
And a gasp.
Oh you knew Joost was about to take his little angel to Heaven. Just like he always did.
Description: You come home feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Thankfully, your boyfriend has a really inviting chest to comfort you.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, literally just worshipping and playing with Joost’s tits, kissing and a tiny bit of motorboating (non-sexual) (condoms are briefly mentioned if that bothers some???), non dutch!reader
Word count: 2.5k
Author’s note: This was supposed to be just a snippet but I got carried away 😅 Not proof read! I just wanted to write a little smth about loving Joost’s body in a non sexual way.
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It was 2 AM once your feet finally reached the doorstep of your apartment. You jammed the key into the lock and opened it with the same sluggish movements that had brought you home, stumbling a bit in the process. You felt drunk. And this could perfectly be the aftermath of a night of drinking… Except it wasn’t. Not a single ounce of alcohol was running through your veins, just pure exhaustion. The kind that makes you disassociate from how tired you are. The one that makes mental exhaustion start to become physical. A general feeling in your body and mind. Worse than a hangover. A hangover usually means you spent the night partying and having fun, but this? This came from hours and hours of working like a dog. It wasn’t the “fun” type of headache.
You closed the door gently - or so it would appear if anyone was watching. In fact, you just didn’t have the energy to close it without it sounding like a murmur into the dark apartment. Even that little sound made you scrunch up your face. You just wanted quietness. And one specific soft voice adorning it. Slowly, you took off your shoes and made your way to where light shone from under the door. Of course he was still awake.
Joost didn’t even notice the door opening from how silently you had pressed on the handle. It was the corner of his eye that eventually caught your figure. Impossible not to when it was immediately walking to the bed. You dragged your tired body to the other side of the room, taking notice of your boyfriend’s lack of a shirt in the process. The sheets covered his torso, but you could still see part of the hair on his chest and the little ‘thanks for today’ tattoo. He was on his phone, scrolling through reels - judging by the sounds that came from it - but his eyes instantly focused on you the second he saw you. Tired, half-lidded eyes that insisted on not closing. He straightened up against the pillow that was supported by the headboard, hair clearly a bit messy from having been lying down for too long.
“Hey…” He greeted you with a smile. “Almost thought I’d fall asleep before you got ho-“ His voice faltered as he felt you slump heavily against his chest. “-me.” He finished the sentence in a breathy sigh as you knocked the breath out of him for a second. He laughed, but the way your limp body rested on his didn’t go unnoticed and he became more serious at that. The gesture wasn’t just a sweet ‘I missed you’. It was a desperate ‘I need you’. Cheek pressed against the sheets as you stared off into a random wall of the bedroom, heavy limbs tiredly abandoned by your sides, not even hugging him. “Oh, rough day, huh?”
You didn’t answer. At least not with words. Your hands gathered just enough strength to pull at the sheets, trying to reveal more of him. The fabric didn’t move since you were putting all of your body weight on it. An impatient huff left your lips as you struggled to get that thing off him without moving too much. It didn’t take long for you to understand that you did need to move if you wanted to feel his skin. You lifted your upper body slightly so you could shove the sheets down, quickly returning to your previous position on top of him, except this time you had his comfortable warmth against your cheek.
Joost tried to suppress a smile as you got settled on his chest. You looked just like a puppy, stubbornly pawing at their blankets to fluff their bed before slumping into it. Same thing. Except you didn’t want blankets, you wanted him. You needed him. And he knew now wasn’t the time to giggle at your cute behavior.
“I see…” He murmured, affectionately wrapping an arm around you. “You wanna talk about it?”
Another huff as you buried your face right between his pecs. His eyes widened slightly. It wasn’t that your behavior was a surprise - this wasn’t the first time you hid your face there - but it definitely caught him off guard.
“So I’m guessing that’s a no… it’s okay. We don’t have to talk… we can just… stay here.” His free hand went to your hair, gently caressing it.
Joost couldn’t help but worry. You were just lying there, feeling his scent and letting out little sighs, not even moving. For a second he wondered if you had fallen asleep, but your stillness didn’t last long. Without lifting your face from his chest, you moved your hands to his pecs, groping and squishing them against your cheeks.
“I love your boobs.” You mumbled against them.
At that, he couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh, making you feel the vibrations against your face. He always found it adorable how you called his pecs ‘boobs’ and how much you adored them.
“Hello to you too.” He giggled. The sound so close to your ear.
You could be going through the worst time of your life, but every time you heard that man laughing, you felt something heal inside you. That’s why he was your safe space. The comfortable place you always turned to when you needed it. After feeling like a fucking dog all day, all week, he made you feel like a puppy - a very loved and cared for puppy. One that could easily nuzzle in his chest, like you were doing, and he would always let you. Even if you had completely ignored him once you got home, only now realizing the first words you spoke to him were about his boobs. Shit. Now you felt guilty. Your exhaustion had made you forget about everything except pressing your face against his warm, soft skin. With a lot of effort, you moved your head so you could rest your chin there instead and look up at him.
“Hi… Sorry, I’m just so tired… I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I understand.” He gave you a tender peck on the lips. “You’re feeling a bit overwhelmed, aren’t you?”
“Mhm…”
“I can tell.” Thick, tattooed fingers brushed through your strands. “But don’t worry, you didn’t ignore me. You’re actually giving me a lot of attention.” He smirked as he looked down at his own chest. That made you chuckle weakly.
“I didn’t say anything when I got home.”
“You immediately got into bed with me… I think that’s saying something.” He said with a smile.
“I didn’t even say hi! Nor acknowledged the fact that you waited for me to sleep…” You lazily nuzzled against his neck. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” He scratched your head in a gentle motion.
Silence filled the room again. He knew you were too tired to talk at the moment and he always respected that. He knew what it was like to feel overwhelmed and just need quiet comfort. And he was right: without words to reply to, you just let yourself inhale his scent, hiding in the crook of his neck. The smell of his body wash still lingered faintly on his skin - a sweet, feminine fragrance. Joost always smelled so good. Whether he reeked of alcohol, sweat and cigarettes right after a concert or emanated the aroma of fresh fruit after a shower, you were completely crazy about his scent. Your lips pressed a chaste kiss against his pale neck before following it up with a series of them until you were back to where you had started in the first place. He hummed as he felt you kiss his chest like it was something precious. And to you, it most certainly was. After worshiping that part of his body for a few moments, your face found the curve of his breasts again, burying itself there. It was warm and his chest hair felt really nice against your skin. The urge to rub your nose all over it was slowly consuming you. Too exhausted to even think about filtering your actions, you decided to do just that. At first, it started as just a gentle and slow motion of your head until it quickly turned into full on shaking it from side to side between his gorgeous tits while you held and pushed them closer to you.
“What are you doing?” Joost asked between giggles. He made no movements to stop you, but he couldn’t help the big grin on his face. “Is this how you deal with a difficult day at work?”
You stopped to properly look at him. The dark circles under your eyes still prominent, but now with a little smile accompanying them.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad my boobs can be of some help.” He let out those cute breathy giggles of his and you melted.
“They’re VERY helpful. I feel better already.”
“Already? Wow, didn’t know they were that effective.”
“They are. Best reward after a stupid night shift.”
“Ja, I can tell my baby is more… talkative now.” He played with your hair.
“Yeah… I guess, yeah.” You hadn’t even noticed how your overstimulation and exhaustion seemed to be getting better. They weren’t hammering your head as much now. All thanks to Joost. You enveloped him in a hug. “I was just… tired.” The confession came naturally now. “I can’t keep working the night shift anymore… It’s killing me.” You felt his soft arms hugging you back as he listened. “I wasn’t even supposed to stay past 1 AM! That’s a whole hour they won’t pay me! A whole hour I could’ve been in your arms instead.”
“Oh mijn schatje…” He squeezed you tighter.
“And… and this job just sucks, overall. It’s so stressful. I’m not even sure if it’s worth the money anymore.”
“No job is worth the money if it ruins your mental health, baby. Your health in general. You look so tired…” His thumbs rubbed under your eyes, gently massaging the eye bags.
“I know… And I AM tired. My body feels so heavy.”
“My poor baby… C’mere.” He pulled you impossibly closer, peppering kisses all over your hair. “What do you say you go take a shower, change those dirty clothes and then join me in bed, hm? Tonight we’ll just cuddle and get a good night’s rest and tomorrow we’ll solve your problem, okay?”
“Nooo, I don’t really feel like doing all that. I just want the cuddles and sleep part now.”
“But you need to. You’ll feel better after, I promise.”
“In a second.” You stubbornly buried your face in his chest again.
“You promise that if I let you cuddle for a little longer that you’ll go take a shower and put on some clean clothes after?”
“Yeah yeah yeah, sure.” You mumbled against his skin, making him sigh. He wasn’t very convinced about your answer, but he also didn’t have the guts to pull you away.
Especially when you started kneading at his chest like a little kitten. Face down, but your hands never stopping. His tits were so soft and big, like a pair of comfy pillows. They made your mind feel fuzzy and your body warm every time. You could never simply be lying on his pecs, you always had to occupy your mouth with them. Be it kissing, licking, sucking, biting… And right now, the urge was definitely to cover them in kisses. You turned your head slightly so you could press your mouth to his skin. He melted at the way you were showering him with affection this time. Such lazy movements. It didn’t even seem like you were kissing, it felt more like you were just bumping your lips against his breasts - a gentle massage that was slowly lulling him to sleep. You two stayed like that for a while. Joost enjoying your soft display of love while you distributed pecks all over his chest. The sweet kisses started turning into open-mouthed ones, never losing their chaste intention, though. He whined quietly and his fingers immediately returned to your hair, scratching it lovingly. You couldn’t help but mouth at his perfect tits - the motion soothing something inside your brain and making an intense sleepiness wash over your body.
“Babe?” You spoke suddenly, muffled voice as your lips insisted on staying glued to his skin.
“Mm?”
“Can you speak Dutch to me?” Your eyes met his half-lidded ones in a quick glance as you asked that.
“You want me to speak Dutch?” He slurred the words with a little sleepy chuckle. You just hummed in approval. “Why?”
“I like hearing it. Hearing you. Feels nice.”
“What do you want me to say?” He asked with a dopey smile, trying to suppress a grin.
“Anything, it doesn’t matter. I just wanna fall asleep to the sound of your voice.”
“You do know you still have to take a shower and put on your pajamas, right?”
“I know.” You answered simply, not making any motion to actually get up. Your mouth was still against his chest, clearly showing him you weren’t planning on moving from that spot. He sighed.
“What do you want me to say in Dutch?”
“I already told you it doesn’t matter.”
“So I can just say what’s on our shopping list?” This time he wasn’t able to contain his grin.
“I mean… you could, but-“
“Oké, nou, kaas, brood-“
“No!” You giggled weakly, almost passing out from how tired you were, but still able to laugh at his antics.
“-Uien,” He continued while you protested. “Condooms-“
“No, no more- Wait, did you just say condoms?”
“That actually is on our shopping list, you know?”
You wanted to smack that stupid grin right off his face. Affectionately, of course.
“Oh and onions too.” He added.
“You were supposed to say sweet things!” You complained half-heartedly. “Or tell me a story or something… I don’t know.”
“Oké oké! Ik kan je vertellen hoe mooi je bent. Zou je dat leuk vinden?”
“Mhmm~” You hummed, instantly returning to kissing his squishy chest.
“Jij bent snel tevreden.” Joost said in a smitten tone, giving you those sweet head scratches.
You couldn’t understand a word of what that man said, but it was the most precious thing in the world to hear him speak his native language.
“Je bent zo zoet~ Mijn alles.”
He buried his face in your hair as you started giving him those lazy open-mouthed kisses on his chest again.
“Mm, je ruikt lekker… Zelfs na een nachtdienst.”
He kept complimenting you in Dutch until he felt your kisses stopping. He had a feeling he knew exactly why you had stopped.
“Liefje?”
No reply. Of course. Of course you had fallen asleep.
With his tit in your mouth.
He sighed, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his face into your hair, and whispered:
Cool to know we all are pretty much still Joost-pilled hehehe I'm sure I'll find the Joost Klein niche again!
Drunk Joost hasn't left my mind, maybe because I binge listen to Shanghai Night p much everyday (that "I'm very Dutch. Real Dutch." part really gets me sm), so have another fluffy thing with our favorite blondie.
Also I'll be opening my requests again soon - I'll clear out my ask box and you can request written pieces from me again. Rejoice!
Enjoy!
"Please make sure he drinks some water, yeah? If you need any more help, call me. Night."
That's the last you talked with Teun, aka Tantu, before you headed home with a very drunk Joost. You can still hear his stumbling giggles and trembling voice as he sings the lyrics to some song he likes. He's been through pretty much all of his repertoire, including his own songs. Now he's just laying in bed, red faced and muttering the lyrics to Droom Groot under his breath as he lets out a sigh.
You walk back to the bed with a bottle of water and hold it to his lips to drink. He does, before slumping back with another childish laughter. Joost is very hit and miss when he drinks - some nights he's angst and sadness and some, like this one, he's the life of the party and living his best life.
You carefully take off his glasses and put them on the nightstand before helping him out of his shirt and pants. Just so he's more comfortable. Then you grab a t-shirt and put it on him. You'll get these clothes in the laundry tomorrow.
"You're soooo good at taking care of me..." His words slur with a slightly stupid tone. The same playfulness his voice has in the least serious songs. "You're an aaaaangel. Like an actual angel."
You can't help but laugh and shake your head. Nah, you're not. You're just happy to be of help.
"What would I be without you... Probable a drunk as fuck mess lying down in a random corner in Leeuwarden..." His hands rise with his arms, as he looks at the ceiling through his fingers. "But I'm here in my bed with you... I'm soooo lucky..."
He quickly turns around, and you melt at the sight. His big blue eyes stare from the pillow with that puppy stare that's so natural on him. Your hand threads through blond hair to caress it in slow pats. You lean in and kiss his forehead. He tries to lean up for a kiss, which you doubtfully concede, but when he tries to to kiss you more and pull you closer, you shake your head. No, sir, you're drunk and not thinking.
"Augh, come on... I'm sure sober me would appreciate it..." He pouts, but you stand your ground and shake your head. You'll gladly kiss and give him what he wants in the morning, but not now when he reeks of beer. "Ugh... Fair enough, fair..."
There's a small moment of sheepish, almost apologetic silence, before he speaks again with the same pout in his voice.
So uh. I attended Joost's gig in Buenos Aires. And it inevitably altered my brain chemistry. So I'm breaking my hiatus with this post because my brain has just been rewired with Joost, like it used to be in 2024. And I had to get this off my head.
If it gets good traction I might go back to writing sparsely but honestly I'm just writing for the hell of it lol.
Enjoy y'all.
A gentle light enters the room where curtains have been pulled to avoid the last rays of the golden hour from interrupting the precious sacredness of the bedroom. It's messy - clothes on the floor, old CDs and memories scattered everywhere, and there's also an open suitcase still not done. The faint smell of cigarettes still burns in a nearby ashtray. You might or might not have contributed to it. It depends on whether you smoke or not.
Either way, the one who does ceirtainly smoke is the man curled up in bed, hugging the pillow. He always forgets he's not sleeping on his own when you're there, but you don't complain. It's so cute to watch him like that. There's something so genuine and warm about the image. Not that Joost was ever secretive or hard to read, he always wore his heart on his sleeve. But this version... Somehow has even more raw emotion.
Your fingers gently thread through the pale hair. He barely stirs, a small sound escaping his throat. Half protest, half comfort. He doesn't really like people touching him much, but you've had a pass for a while. Such luck. He even invited you over to help him pack before his world tour begins, but then chose to take a small nap so he wouldn't be tired by the time he got to the airport. And that's why you were there right now.
You keep petting his hair slowly, until a blue eye opens and peeks up at you.
"Having fun there?" His voice asks in a sleepy amusement, as he grabs your wrist and stamps a small kiss on your palm. "Cute..."
No, he's cute, you reply, and you can hear the small chuckle from those parted lips that now open in a wide yawn. He stretches his arms and then flops back into the pillow. You slowly put his head in your lap and continue to pet his hair.
"I have to finish packing up for Buenos Aires... Man, first time in Latin America... Ain't that crazy?" Joost rambles, but you let him. You like hearing the enthusiasm in his voice. "I can't believe so many people wanna go see me, a little weirdo from the Netherlands doing weird shit... It's still like a dream! Mom and dad must be so proud of me... Like you are, right?"
Of course you are. But you're gonna miss him so much when he's gone. Joost sighs and shakes his head, sitting up.
"None of that, my sweet little onion", he shakes his head. You still can't get used to the pet name, but it sounds as adorable as it is unusual. "I'll call you every day and every night. You'll get the scoops first", he grabs your face between his hands, squeezing your cheeks a bit. And then he smiles. That little smile he does that disarms you in seconds. "So you won't have to miss me because it's like I'm not gone at all. I'll bring you fridge magnets and all that touristy shit if you want."
You can't help but laugh. But you nod anyway. Sounds like a plan. When you ask what he'll do about the time difference, he just shrugs.
"Let future Joost handle that", he says. "My present is with you now, ain't it?"
You nod, and lean in to kiss his cheeks, then pepper kisses all over his face. You hear the small flustered giggle on his voice when you hug him by the neck to continue kissing his face, over and over. And you feel his face grow hotter, too. It's frankly adorable.
Joost is the one who leans in for a kiss on the lips, holding your face between his hands. He then stays for long moments just resting his forehead against yours, in silence. You stare at each other's eyes, and close them as well, just to feel the connection. The room feels warm and cozy, like a hug.
He kisses your forehead and then pulls away slowly, his hands caressing your arms.
"Come on, darling. Let's finish getting this shit packed, yeah?"
can't believe a dutch man is bringing back this dusty side-blog. Yet here we are...
(I don't promise anything, but I really want to make a social media fic) (I just have to figure out how to do it) (and actually, do it) (so yeah... don't expect much just in case)
Since you were busy with your own job, you couldn't join Tommi for the whole tour, but you did visit him in a couple of cities when you had the time and opportunity to travel there more or less spontaneously.
Every time you got to meet him on tour - like this time in Vienna - the two of you liked to walk around the city, take photos, buy a few little souvenirs and visit museums. It was always a couple's trip in a way - if you ignore his band and crew in tow.
Today, there must have been some kind of market because the town square was much more crowded than the rest of the city. Tommi grabbed your hand so he wouldn't lose you and kept a firm grip on it as you made your way through the sea of people.
When you reached a calmer backstreet, however, he was still holding your hand. You were definitely not complaining, just a bit surprised as he usually didn't show too much physical affection in public. He was more the type to be subtly affectionate in public with an arm around your waist at most while only really letting his loving and cuddly side show when you were alone together.
You lightly squeezed his hand as a sign for him not to let go, which made him glance down at you with a soft smile before he pulled you along to another store window.
probably nobody will see this but I’m kinda rebranding this side-blog since my stranger things brainrot is starting to kick in and I might diversify and start writing for that show too
y’all have to thank Eddie Munson and his big, brown puppy eyes for the new fixation
To celebrate tonight’s Emma Gaala, I decided to make a special post of what the guys are like at the awards show with their families. I wanted to write this as a short idea but I didn’t know who to pick out and I figured it’d be better to summarize everyone. Enjoy!
(Under the read-more for length… I went a little overboard with this one lol.)
Kids: The Matela girls (Elina, Elisabet, Isla), Noah Kaunisvesi
Summary: What kind of mischief could four science nerds get into?
Words: 1,264
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Isla had a genius idea, but she needed a couple helping hands to make it work.
Of all three Matela girls, Isla is the real science nerd. She’s been hungrily consuming every kids’ book about nature, animals, and plants ever since she could read, and her parents are more that happy to foster that natural interest. Riina doesn’t even mind having to constantly clean up a dirty toddler after a romp in the yard, as long as she’s enjoying herself.
Elina and Elisabet, on the other hand, aren’t very big on playing in the mud like Isla. But they love any chance they can get to cause a little chaos with their little sister. After all, they provide the mischief and she provides the willingness to get her hands dirty; it’s all a match made in heaven.
Opposites attract - that's why you and Olli were together despite you actually hating yoga. Maybe hate was a strong word, but you were definitely not a fan. You had never tried it, but you knew you were going to be terrible at it and that quickly made you lose interest in something. You weren't flexible and lacked balance. Perfect preconditions.
Still, you wanted to give it a chance this time. For Olli. He never asked you to because he knew you didn't like it. You just wanted to try it out to show him you cared about him and because he listened to you rambling about things you were passionate about that he personally wasn't interested in too.
"Hey, can I um… do yoga with you?" you asked as he rolled out his mat on the living room floor.
"Of course!" His eyes lit up as he looked at you and stood up to get another mat for you.
Before you started, you warned him, "But don't laugh at me, you know I suck at this."
"You only suck at it because you haven't done it yet! I'd never make fun of you," he reassured you.
For this yoga session, Olli only did some easy positions, starting with the Mountain Pose, which was basically just standing. So far so good, you could do this.
When you got to the ones that required balance, though, he kept encouraging you, even after you nearly fell over. "That was pretty good! You're doing well, babe," he praised you and you just chuckled nervously.
Lastly, the two of you laid on the floor in the relaxation posture for a couple of minutes before Olli turned his head to you. "So what do you think?"
"That you're more patient with me than I expected," you laughed. "I must admit, I'd do it again."
He smiled happily and kissed the back of your hand. The main reason you'd do it again was that you loved seeing him in his element and you considered it extra quality time, which was rare enough when he was working.
For this Christmas, you had been planning to go home to see your family. Since you had moved to Finland, you hadn't gotten a chance to see them except for the one visit your closest family members had paid you. That's why it would have been even more special to finally spend the holidays with them again - if it wasn't for this snowstorm that led to many flights being canceled.
You waited until the last day before Christmas Eve to see if any flights had been added in the meantime, calling the airline and asking if they knew when they could approach any airport in your home country. Even if it was on Christmas Day itself, it would be better than nothing, but the customer consultant couldn't help you either.
When you were certain you couldn't come, you called your parents, telling them about the situation and that you really wished you could have managed to visit them, but you'd try to catch the next possible flight. You were still on the phone when Aleksi came in and stood still in the doorway so he wouldn't disturb you.
He could tell that you were sad. It was completely understandable that you were disappointed. You had been so excited to see your family for the first time in about a year. Your suitcase was packed, the presents were bought and the flight was booked. Everything was set for your trip and now you were stuck in Helsinki.
"I think I'll stay at my apartment for the night," you mumbled, walking over to Aleksi after hanging up and putting your phone in your pocket.
He kissed your forehead and hugged you tightly. "As you will, love. Will you come over tomorrow?"
"Yeah… Good night, Allu."
"Good night," he said, squeezing your hand before you left his flat.
Once you were gone, he texted the Blind Channel group chat. "Hey, it turns out (y/n) can't visit their family over the holidays. Would you guys help me surprise them?"
Needless to say, they agreed to help him save your holidays. They all loved you and they couldn't let you have a blue Christmas, so they spent the evening working out a plan.
In the morning of Christmas Eve, you were sitting on your bed, feeling depressed because if everything had worked out, you would have woken up in your childhood bedroom to the smell of your grandmother's Christmas pastries. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a car honking under your window. You walked over to see who it was and recognized Tommi's car.
Since he didn't want to wake any more people up by shouting at you to come down, he called you on the phone. "Good morning and merry Christmas! Would you please come down if you're ready?" he asked.
"Sure, wait a minute," you replied, hanging up before putting on some nice clothes and locking your apartment door.
When you walked towards his car, he pushed the door open for you, but you didn't get in yet, looking at him slightly suspiciously. "Where are we going?"
"Just get in. You'll see."
"I'm kinda scared," you admitted as you eventually got in the car and closed the door.
"I promise it will be great," he insisted with a smile, starting to drive after you put on the seatbelt.
You trusted Tommi because you knew he wouldn't lie to you. To be honest, if Joonas had picked you up, you probably wouldn't have gotten in. When he said it was going to be good, it was like Russian roulette - chances it was only fun for him were higher than it actually being fun for everyone else as well.
Tommi drove unusually slowly, taking a quick look at his phone every time he stopped at red lights. After he finally parked in front of the building Aleksi lived in, you both got out of the car and reaching his apartment, you knocked on the door, which was opened by Joel.
He rushed back to the living room and as you followed him, you found all the guys - minus Tommi, who was walking behind you - gathered around the decorated tree. Niko and Joel were crouching down in front of the tree while Aleksi and Olli were standing on either side and Joonas, being Joonas, was on the floor, lying on the side. They shouted in unison, "Merry Christmas!"
You were close to tears. You had thought they'd all be at home with their own families, but they really took the time to prepare this surprise for you. "Aw, don't cry!" Aleksi said, walking over to you and pulling you in for a hug.
"Did you organize this?" you asked, looking at him.
"Well, yeah. You know I hate to see you so sad, but especially now I couldn't just shrug it off and not do anything. You deserve this," he answered, giving you a kiss on the lips.
"Thank you, it really means a lot to me." You turned to the rest of the band. "I'm speechless, I love you guys so much. But… I thought you were celebrating with your own families?"
"We are," Niko confirmed. "But as Alex said, we couldn't do nothing. We'll leave around noon, though."
"Then we'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Joonas teased, puckering his lips.
"But until then, we can open our presents and eat the cookies we baked!" Olli added.
Just like every year, the boys got each other presents and while they normally handed them over a day before, you unwrapped them now. They even bought you a few little gifts too and of course, Aleksi got you a bigger one - something you had had your eye on for a while which he just had to buy for you.
You were listening to music and eating gingerbread cookies together until it was time for the others to go home. While you said goodbye to everyone, you thanked each of them individually for making this a nice Christmas after all. Not only did you have the best boyfriend, but also the best friend group you could ask for.
