Hiii! so glad youre back! since you’re asking for requests, what about joost and reader being kind of “enemies” (or just not very fond of each other lol) but they’re forced to hang out for the sake of their mutual friends.. but on a night out, reader gets too drunk and some guy is bothering her.. joost stands up for her, and takes care of her ykk how it goes 😁
ty for the request i hope u enjoy!!
You and Joost never got along. You found him annoying, he found you uptight. You’re forced to hangout together at your friend’s birthday party where he gets stuck taking care of you after too many drinks
You stirred your coffee quietly, watching the steam rise and vanish into the air. You wished you could do the same as your best friend, Celine, grilled you on what exactly made you so against doing anything to do with Joost.
It was awkward enough having this conversation in a crowded café at the height of tourist season, much less with the pressure of her birthday coming up and all the planning and energy that took up.
Where could you even begin? How obnoxious and embarrassing you thought he was? The loudness, the talking to random strangers when he had too much to drink at every outing you ever had with him and your friends? The way he’d make you the butt of his jokes one too many times when you used to tolerate him? How you felt like you were the only person not blinded by charm and charisma, or the allure of him being a musician, and saw him for what he was, a huge man-child?
Instead, you simply shrugged, “I just find him a bit annoying.” You mumbled.
Celine let out a laugh, “I get that, you’re super laid back and Joost is…” She paused looking for a word. “He’s just Joost, I guess.”
“So, will he go to dinner and clubbing with us on your birthday?” You hoped that she would say no and opt for a more intimate celebration, but knowing her you knew that was seldom the case.
“Girl, you know me the more the merrier.” She said, the sting not as bad as you expected it. “Besides, he always knows where the best DJ’s are playing and he always pays for all our drinks.”
You rolled your eyes and decided to change the subject, at least you’d be getting a few free drinks out of it.
When the night of the long awaited party came, you found yourself on Celine’s bedroom floor in front of her floor mirror. Blasting music, a glass of wine next to you, the gentle chatter and laughs of your other best friends in the background, you had no reason not to be over pouring with excitement. It was going to be a good night, no matter if an obnoxious guy was going to be there.
You became entranced with yourself and the meticulous details of getting ready. It became an art form in that moment, the way you curled your hair, did your eyeliner and lined your lips with artistic skill. You put on some blush borrowed from Celine, some perfume borrowed from Lina, and put on some shoes burrowed from Gabriella. In that moment, carrying a bit of all your best friends with you made you feel so much better.
The night started off promising, dinner was easy going and brief as everyone was anxious to go clubbing to dance and get wasted. Joost always made it a habit he would pay for everyone’s drinks. In your mind, it was probably because he was one of those people who got a laugh out of seeing his friends way too drunk and becoming a mess. It was another reason for you why he was kind of shitty and to keep a healthy distance.
Sadly, you realized quite quickly that your night was going to come to a short and unpleasant end. Going back and forth to the bathroom one too many times, and in the line for maybe the third time in an hour, the haze of the bright lights, the sudden turning of your stomach and feeling that you were going to literally throw up your organs made you think back to how many drinks you had. The wine at Celine’s, the two cocktails at the restaurant, and five shots at the bar, you had fucked up.
You didn’t know how much time went by until your friend Gabby spotted her shoes on the floor of the bathroom and the sounds of you throwing up echoing. Of course, none of the other wasted girls paid her any mind as she banged on the stall door and waited for you to open it.
You watched as her eyebrows knit and she frowned as she looked down at you with concern, “I’m gonna get you home, don’t worry.” She said softly. “Celine won’t know you ditched her, I promise.” She joked.
You felt her hands hoist you up and stabilize you on her shoulders. The sweet marshmallow scent of her perfume sickened and comforted you as she lead you throw the crowded club, the strobe lights, harsh bass, and screaming people all becoming bother a blur and overwhelming to all your senses. It was a relief to be hit by the cold night’s air and stillness of the city past midnight. A relief that quickly came and went as soon as you saw who was going to take you home.
“No, no Gabby-“ You slurred desperately as she passed you off to Joost. “No, I don’t want fucking go with this loser.”
You watched her eyes widen as she rummaged through your purse giving Joost your keys and ensuring your phone and valuables were still inside.
“Take care of her please.” She said, also handing your purse to Joost which made you scoff loudly, rambling about how you could hold your own things. “And please ignore her, she’s too honest when she’s drunk, but she’s harmless.”
“Of course.” Joost smiled, holding you by the shoulder to guide you towards your apartment which was just a few blocks away.
The walk was silent at first, you did your absolute best to control the second wave of vommiting, giving yourself internal pep talks, fake deals with God to just let you make it to your apartment so you could have the dignity of being in your own bathroom, but it was useless. You ran from Joost to a random alleyway and began dry heaving in corner.
Joost was buzzed himself, it was hard to grapple with what his better judgement was. Should he just let you get it over with and throw up in a corner? Should he check on you? He didn’t know if either one would worsen the situation. That choice was soon taken from him once he heard a loud group of voices cut through the still of night.
They didn’t speak Dutch, it was a group of loud, drunken tourists. He zeroed in on you instinctively as they passed by, but as soon as you stood up, your body being illuminated by the street lights it immediately drew in their attention.
“Hey, is that your bitch man?” One of them asked, boldly approaching you.
“Fuck off.” Joost left your side momentarily, going towards the man, shorter than him but more boisterous. “Get the fuck away.”
“What, I can’t talk to her?” He was clearly drunk beyond belief, but Joost was buzzed, he was angry, and tired. It wasn’t a good situation for anyone.
Joost felt his body wasn’t his own when he pushed the man to the ground. Once he got up, it became a drunken struggle of cheap shots, which his friends found amusing, but once Joost mustered the courage to kick him in the stomach the fight quickly lost its humor and his friend grabbed him like a misbehaved dog, hurled profanities at Joost and disappeared around the corner.
He then approached you carefully like a wounded animal, seeing you were once again on your knees, not paying any mind to that stupid fight. He frowned watching you writhe in pain from too much alcohol and not being able to relieve the discomfort, even more so for almost being cornered by that disgusting man.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that, I’ll carry you home.” He offered, rubbing down on your back to get your attention. “I’ll put you in bed and leave right away.”
You wanted to fight back, you wanted to tell him to fuck off and accuse him of getting a kick out of seeing you like this, fucked up in an alleyway crying off your makeup and desperately trying to throw up. Instead, you shamefully accepted defeat, nodding and standing up your way of waving your white flag.
Joost picked you up bridal style and walked down the sidewalk carefully. You didn’t know if it was just your altered senses, but you didn’t feel a bit of struggle in his arms, carrying you as if you were the purse that was slung around his shoulder. You wanted to laugh seeing it, but you couldn’t find any strength.
You blacked out for a moment and found yourself brought back by the familiar smell of entering your apartment and the feeling of being laid down on your bed which instantly made you jolt.
“Not in these fucking clothes.” You slurred, making yourself sick with sudden movements from how you jumped up from the bed.
No matter how drunk you’d get, you’d never lose your mind enough to lay in the same clothes that you were on a club floor in on your bed, the most sacred place in the world for you. You did however, lose enough sense that you began stripping down to your underwear in front of Joost before falling back onto your bed.
He stood there awkwardly for a second since it felt like you died, came back to life just to scream and take your clothes off, then died again. His face was already engulfed, and he felt glued to the floor staring at your chest rise and fall to make sure you were alright.
He crept to the living room where everything was perfect and still. He watched your cat sleeping in the corner, and let his eyes carefully be taken around the apartment. He walked around, every detail perfectly organized and curated. He wondered if you were one of those people who obsessed over things like Feng Shui. He noticed the stack of books on your coffee table as he sat down on the couch, realizing they weren’t just decorative but filled with notes and bookmarks.
He sighed deeply, the buzz slowly wearing off as he was reminded again over how much he wanted you, and it was all just being dangled in front of him. It was all false gratification, holding you in his arms and comforting you might as well have all been a dream knowing that tomorrow he would go back to being shut out from your life.
The longer he stayed, the more his thoughts wandered from yearning to anger, and how it was probably for the better after all. He couldn’t stand how uptight and rigid you were. You wouldn’t ever look in his direction, even give him a pity laugh when he’d make all of your friends laugh making you stick out like a grey cloud.
He didn’t understand his feelings for you. One part felt the dislike was mutual, your negativity repelled him. The other just wanted to be close to you, to make you laugh, to feel what it would be like to hug and kiss you, to feel your skin against his.
He lost track of time once he found that he had nodded out on your couch, lost in the thought of you. The morning light spilled into the living room, bringing a new sense of life into your home, making him feel more like an intruder as he did last night. Your cat loomed around his legs, loudly meowing and seemingly begging for his breakfast.
He knew it was imperative that he’d leave before you woke up, but patting himself down he realized he lost his phone. He remembered having it in your apartment, shoving his hands between the couch cushions and trying to fish it out. He wasted too much time however, and he heard the dreaded sound of your footsteps on the hardwood and the sound of the bedroom door unlocking.
He prepared to have you berate him for still being in your apartment, and if anything it was justified since he was an uninvited guest. Instead, you paid him almost no mind as you simply made your way to the fridge to get a water bottle, glanced in his direction before looking him up and down.
“If you’re gonna be in my house you better shower.” You yawned. “You smell like cigarettes.”
You two soon found yourselves back in the living room, wet hair, Joost wrapped in a towel and you in your robe. You fed the cat, awkwardly glanced in his direction not expecting him to take up your offer to stay. You had a splotchy memory of last night, not caring to revisit it, but you remembered quite vividly Joost carrying you home. You could literally still feel the skin of his bicep against your cheek and the smell of cologne and cigarettes if you thought about it hard enough.
“Coffee?” You asked as you put on a pot, you made too much anyways so it wasn’t really a genuine offer.
“Yes, please.” He said softly. “Thanks.”
You hummed in response, watching as it dripped quickly through the filter and into the pot. It brought you back to being in that café with Celine a few days ago and how you were being such a mean girl. Joost was never the villain that you convinced yourself he was.
You brought him a steaming mug of black coffee, he liked it the same way you did and that was one of the only things you held onto about him. Sitting next to him knowing you were both naked was somehow less awkward than it was hanging him the coffee exactly that way he liked it without having to ask.
“Thank you for taking me home last night.” You had to break the silence somehow.
Joost shrugged, “There’s nothing to say thank you for.”
You looked over at him, holding the mug up to your lips as some sort of shield as you grappled with the sudden slew of emotions piled up on your hangover.
“Ok, well sorry for ruining your night.” You said as some sort of way to lay down your arms for good.
“You didn’t.” He shook his head, looking at you like you had just sprouted a second one. “We’re friends, it’s not a big deal.”
“You think we’re friends?” You asked, your tone coming off unintentionally abrasive which made him frown.
“No,” He began, “I know you don’t like me that much.”
“I’m sorry.” You immediately blurted out.
Joost didn’t know how to respond. He decided to just finish his coffee in silence as you started at him relentlessly. He was waiting for you to say something else, but it never came, rather the staring just persisted until he relented.
“I liked you a lot.” He said, not understanding where this drunken confidence came from. “I still like you, physically I mean.”
He cringed at himself, simply not believing what just came out of his mouth. It all melted away once he saw you start laughing, which was something he’d never seen before, at least from anything he said.
You couldn’t stop laughing, looking at the dumbfounded expression on his face and watching his blush deepen by the second.
“I thought you were annoying, not ugly.” You giggled, shoving him playfully.
“I still find you annoying.” Joost mumbled, but you saw a smile trying to peak through. “You’re kind of mean honestly.”
“That’s why I said sorry, asshole.” You replied, watching him finally smile.
“Mhm, ok.” He said mockingly. “How sorry?”
“I literally made you a coffee?”
“Yea?” You watched as he turned him attention towards you, his body closing in slowly and you realized what he wanted.
“Yea.” You doubled down, bringing your chests together like magnets, his lips pressed into yours tenderly as his arms wrapped around you.
You couldn’t describe the feeling. It was like getting water when you thought the only thing you needed to survive was air. You hadn’t realized what you were depriving yourself of all this time. He held onto you just as tenderly as last night, when he carried that mean, vindictive girl you were all the way up to your apartment.
You didn’t know where it was going to lead, you two were both naked with hands wandering all over. It didn’t take long for his hand to undo your robe and let if fall off your shoulders. He kissed your neck, selfishly to finally see you naked. You looked nothing less of what he imagined in his daydreams, something out of an artist’s sketchbook of the perfect woman.
You tossed your head back in bliss, he followed your movements, landing on top of you on the couch and moving his hand down between your thighs.
“Fuck.” He sighed into your neck. “You’re perfect.”
“Are we just gonna do this here?” You asked, looking up at him with blown out pupils and a cocky smile on your face.
“Yes.” He answered pushing a finger inside of you making you gasp, “I’m gonna fuck you right you right here.”
You didn’t want to waste time talking anymore, just to take every single bit of what he wanted to give to you. You lost yourself in pleasure, the way his fingers moved inside of you, how he kissed and bit down on your neck with a bit of aggression.
You saw his face change, his movements sharpen into something that felt almost punishing but overflowed with passion. You looked up at him curiously and he saw your confusion.
“I fucking hate you.” He groaned, his fingers pumping into you quicker. “You were always so fucking mean.”
You couldn’t respond, you were quickly reduced to laying on top of your robe, legs wrapped around his waist as he finger fucked you. You hated how he had dominated you in a way you could’ve never imagined. He knew exactly how you felt about him, and instead of hating you for it he just wanted you more.
He knew you weren’t talkative, you responded enough with your body and the sweet way you held him and ran your nails against his back, sending goosebumps all over. He wanted to take his time, he really did want to kiss all over you and make you ache for it, but he didn’t want to deprive himself any longer. He thought you might start truly start hating him again if he did.
When he took his fingers out he pushed your thighs towards your stomach, hovering over you for a moment before he went down on you. He didn’t hold back at all, didn’t allow you to acclimate to how he felt, just plunging you in cold water and you loved it.
Joost was passionate, expressive, and demanding of attention in everything he did, and it extended to even this. He made you want to tell him you loved him in that moment, with every breath that came out of you in pleasure.
You grabbed a handful of his hair, it was so soft against the roughness of his mouth and his hands pushing your thighs apart, fingers leaving indents on your skin.
“Fuck, Joost.” You mumbled as you felt yourself getting close far too quickly.
He knew your body was if he did this a hundred times before. A wave of unexpected jealousy washing over you as you thought briefly of how many lovers he’d had before, but it subsided when you realized no one could make him feel like this. Who else could treat him like he didn’t exist one day and have him in between their legs a desperate mess the second he got the chance?
He made you finish happily, feeling your body convulse and shake beneath him, how you drenched his face and tightened your grip on his hair. He loved every second of it, the harshness in your touch just pushed him more, made him want you more, he couldn’t get enough.
“You taste so good.” He sighed, leaning down to kiss you. “Turn around.”
You didn’t realize how quickly you obeyed until you felt him pressing his dick against you, rubbing up and down your wet pussy, pressing against your sensitive clit making you flinch. You never needed something so badly, you’d shamelessly beg if he told you to, telling him whatever he needed, apologizing profusely for every encounter you’d ever had.
Joost was much nicer than you though, and gave you what you needed without any begging. Your ass looked perfect in his hands, he obsessed over the curve of your back, your hair still damp falling over your shoulders.
He knew he wasn’t going to last long, it was after all a burst of passion and like any spark it would burn quickly. He knew he’d have to do this again and again, he couldn’t bear to think it would be a one time affair. You were much too perfect to just have this once.
Once you looked over your shoulder, he knew his fate was sealed. He pulled out, holding his dick in his hand as you watched, every desperate movement and how he came all over your back. It was even more gratifying than finishing yourself. You replayed the image of his face as he came over and over again until he brought you back to reality.
He brought you into his arms, kissing your face until you laughed and cuddled him back. You listened to his erratic heartbeat until it calmed once again, rubbing your hand against his soft skin.
“So.” He began suddenly, “Are we friends now?”
