just1cefor4ll

[just1cefor4ll]

—I’ve never been in love before

Joost Klein x fem!reader

A/N. this is very long soo yeah 😭😭 you better lay down for this one

warning. swearing, not proof read

You met Joost in a packed festival crowd, both stuck in an endless merch line. What started as casual grumbling about the wait turned into a conversation that flowed too easily—favorite bands, who you were here to watch perform, your hobbies. You found out that he was actually going to perform that day which caught you off guard that he was here to watch and perform but he seemed like a pretty cool guy and so you continued your conversation. By the time you finally got your shirts, it felt like you'd known each other for years.

As you stepped away from the booth, he turned to you with a grin. "Alright, so we’re basically the same person. Wanna meet up after I finish my show? I promise to wave your way." He teases playfully.

After saying your goodbyes, you quickly pushed through the crowd, earning a few glares and muttered curses along the way. But you didn’t care—you had to support your new friend, who was about to go on stage any minute now.

When he finally stepped into the spotlight, the crowd erupted in cheers, and you joined in, even if you didn’t know the lyrics. You simply enjoyed the moment, capturing a few photos and videos to look back on later. As promised, he spotted you in the crowd and waved, grinning like an excited child. You waved back just as enthusiastically before he disappeared backstage.

The moment his performance ended, you sprinted toward the meeting spot, weaving through the lingering audience members, your heart still racing from the energy of the show. When you finally pushed past the last barrier, you found yourself in a quieter space behind the stage, the air buzzing with excitement and the distant sound of music from the next act.

You scanned the area, searching for him among the roadies and performers who milled about, still riding the adrenaline of their sets. A few people glanced your way, but no one stopped you. Just when you started to wonder if you’d misunderstood the meeting spot, you heard a familiar voice call your name.

Turning quickly, you saw him jogging toward you, still slightly out of breath, his face glowing with sweat and exhilaration. "You made it!" he said, grinning wide.

"You were incredible!" you gushed, unable to contain your excitement. "I mean, I didn’t know the lyrics, but still—wow." You chuckled, walking alongside him to wherever he was taking you. “That’s okay, you had fun though, right?” You nodded, showing him the pictures and videos you took and in that moment, you couldn’t be happier about making a new friend and Joost— unkown to him then— he found someone who would be there for him in the darkest moments of his life.

Years passed, and you and Joost grew closer. What had started as a random encounter at a concert turned into a real friendship. You ended up going on a few tours with him, getting a taste of life behind the scenes. The long bus rides, crowded dressing rooms, and the constant rush of meeting fans became part of the routine.

You also met a lot of his friends along the way—musicians, crew members, and people who were part of Joost’s inner circle.

Through sleepless nights and long flights, through sold-out shows and quiet moments between sets, your friendship remained steady. And no matter how big the venues got or how many people screamed his name, he always made time to find you in the crowd—grinning like he did that very first night, as if nothing had changed at all.

One night, after you and a few shared friends had gotten utterly wasted, you found yourself stepping out onto the balcony of a hotel to clear your head. The city lights below blurred together, just like the thoughts swirling in your mind. You leaned against the railing, taking in a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to make sense of everything.

It still felt surreal—the way your life had changed so dramatically. One minute, you were a boring college student, focused on exams and a future that seemed so far away. The next, you were done with college and living your dream life, traveling the world and supporting your best friend while watching him build his dream. It felt like a dream that might fade if you woke up too suddenly, but even then, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Joost stepped out onto the balcony with a cigarette between his fingertips— the orange light of the lighter illuminating his features for a mere second before he leaned against the railing next to you. “Rought night, ey?” He smirked, looking at your tipsy but still functioning state.

You laugh, nodding. “Yea I’ll definitely be drowning in my own misery once I wake up with a killer headache tommorow.”

Joost chuckled at your statement, agreeing before blowing the smoke from his cigarette opposite of your direction.

You took a moment to just admire Joost, something you hadn’t really allowed yourself to do before. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than just a casual glance at your friend, but suddenly, something in your chest tightened, and your heart skipped a beat. His features, the way his hair fell loosely around his face, the easy confidence in the way he stood—it was all familiar, yet tonight, it felt different.

Before you could fully process the shift, your stomach did a little flip, and you shifted uncomfortably, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, you okay?” Joost’s voice broke the silence, his hand instinctively coming to rest around your shoulder, concern flickering in his eyes.

You blinked, quickly pushing the feeling aside. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking,” you said, offering a smile as you put a hand on his back, hoping it would mask how uneasy you felt inside.

Joost gave a slight nod, but there was a pause in the air, as though he was waiting for you to say more. You didn’t though— only running from the subject more and changing the topic. “I’m gonna head back inside. The others are probably waiting,” you said, turning away slightly. “Yeah, probably,” Joost replied, following you without question, though the look on his face suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.

But as you walked back toward the noise and light inside, the fluttering in your chest wouldn’t go away. The feeling in your stomach lingered, like something had shifted between you both—something you couldn’t quite name, but knew was there.

A few months passed since that night on the balcony, but the feeling never fully left you. It lingered in the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the shift you’d felt in your chest. You had tried to brush it off, distracting yourself with the usual routines, but the truth was—it wasn’t going away.

You’d spent weeks wrestling with your feelings for Joost, torn between wanting to keep things as they were and the need to be honest with him. Eventually, you realized you couldn’t keep hiding it. You had to say something.

It was late one evening after the show, when everyone else had wandered off, and the two of you were left sitting together, a rare moment of quiet between the chaos of the tour. Joost leaned back, scrolling through his phone, liking every post he saw of his show and fans. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“Joost,” you started, your voice soft.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to begin, but you pushed forward. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.. it’s been on my mind for a while.”

His expression shifted from casual to attentive, and you felt the weight of his gaze, the nerves bubbling up in your chest.

“I uh— I think I’ve developed feelings for you,” you said, your words coming out in a rush, as if to get them out before you changed your mind.

Joost didn’t say anything right away, his face unreadable as he processed your confession. The silence stretched, and your heart began to race.

Finally, he spoke. “I’m really glad you told me,” he said gently, his voice sincere but careful. “But.. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’m just not in a place where I’m looking for anything like that right now.” Your heart sank, and you nodded, trying to keep your face neutral, but the sting in your chest was undeniable. You knew this was a possibility, but hearing it out loud still made it real.

Joost reached over, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes softened. “I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us. You’re one of my closest friends, and I don’t want to lose that.” You smiled faintly, feeling a small ache form in your throat. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just glad you were honest with me.”

Without missing a beat, Joost shifted, pulling you into a side hug and draping his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into it a little, trying to take comfort in the familiar closeness while your mind raced.

“Come on, let’s distract you a bit,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening up TikTok. “You need a laugh. Let’s see what the internet has to offer tonight.” You laughed lightly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Joost started scrolling through random videos, his laughter filling the quiet space between you. You watched, forcing yourself to focus on the silly dance routines and ridiculous memes, but your mind couldn’t stop wandering back to what had just been said. His arm was still around you, casual, comforting. He was still Joost, the same friend you’d known for so long. But now, there was this new layer between you, a soft ache in your chest that you couldn’t shake.

As he showed you another video, you couldn’t help but notice the little things—the way his fingers brushed against your arm, the way his laugh made your stomach flutter. You wished you could push those feelings away, but every time you tried, they seemed to grow stronger.

You forced a smile, trying to focus on the laughter and the fun of the moment, but it was hard. It felt like you were living in two different worlds at once—one where you were just friends with Joost, and another where your heart kept reminding you that you wanted more.

Joost kept scrolling, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling inside you. And for now, that was enough. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever feel the same again.

You got over it surprisingly quickly once you realized Joost was acting like his usual self despite your confession. There was no awkwardness, no change in the way he treated you, and that lifted a heavy weight from your chest—though it didn’t completely erase the feelings you still had for him.

At first, you thought it would be impossible to go back to normal, but Joost made it easy. He still sent you dumb memes at 2 a.m., still dragged you into late-night adventures, and still leaned on you when he was exhausted after a long day. If anything, it felt like he was making an effort to remind you that nothing had changed between you.

And in a way, that helped.

The feelings didn’t disappear overnight, but they became easier to manage. Instead of dwelling on what you couldn’t have, you found yourself appreciating what you did—an unshakable friendship, one that had already withstood more than you thought it would.

One night, as you and Joost sat on the couch, watching dumb videos he had taken with Apson and Stuntje, he spoke up out of nowhere.

“You know,” he started, his voice quieter than usual, “I respect you for telling me about your feelings.”

You blinked, caught off guard, and turned to look at him. “Huh?”

He kept his gaze on the screen, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way he was clearly choosing his words carefully. “I mean, it takes guts. Saying something like that. I don’t think I ever really told you that.”

You gave a small, almost teasing smile. “Yeah, well. It’s not like it changed anything.”

Joost exhaled, finally glancing at you. “Still. I just wanted you to know.”

You shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but something about the way he said it made your chest feel a little lighter. You nudged him playfully, turning your attention back to the video. “You’re getting all sentimental on me, Joost. You good?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Atleast, for you.

Little did you know, Joost had thought about your confession more than he could ever admit—to you or to himself.

At first, he told himself it didn’t mean anything. That you had moved on, that you were fine, and that it was for the best. But in the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract him, the thought always crept back in.

He wasn’t ready for a relationship. That was the truth, wasn’t it? He had too many flaws, too many things he didn’t like about himself, too many uncertainties about what he could actually offer someone. And he knew you—you’d see right through all of that. You’d try to turn those flaws into something good, something worth loving. But he wasn’t sure he could believe that.

So he did what he did best—he buried it. Kept his feelings locked away, shoved them into the back of his mind like they didn’t exist.

He had turned you down, and you had taken it well. You had stayed, continued being his best friend without a hint of awkwardness, without asking for anything more. That was enough, right? That should have made it easier to move on.

But then there were the moments that made it impossible to ignore.

Like when you’d fall asleep against his shoulder during long car rides, trusting him enough to let your guard down completely, your breath soft and even. He never dared to move, afraid of waking you, but more afraid of acknowledging how much he liked the feeling of you close to him.

Or the way you always made sure he ate something before a show, shoving snacks at him without a second thought, knowing damn well he’d forget otherwise. He’d grumble about it, roll his eyes, but he always took whatever you gave him because deep down, it meant something that you cared that much.

And the worst part? The way you never made him feel like he had to be anyone other than himself.

You never expected him to always be loud and confident. You never pushed him to talk when he wasn’t in the mood. You never made him feel like he had to prove anything to you.

And that was dangerous.

Because it made him feel safe. And safety was something he had never associated with love before.

He thought back to the night on the couch, when you were leaned against him, watching videos on his phone. The way you had nudged him, teasing him for getting sentimental, and how easily you had brushed off what he said.

That should have been reassuring. It should have made him feel relieved.

Instead, it only made him realize how much he hated the idea of you moving on without him.

You and Joost had decided to go to a summer festival that same year, deciding it would be fun to experience something that brought you two together in the first place. The festival felt just like it had all those years ago—the energy, the music, the crowd moving in waves around you. As you stood next to Joost, watching the flashing lights dance across the stage, you let out a small laugh.

“I’m getting major déjà vu right now,” you said, nudging him lightly. Joost turned his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ja, I was just thinking the same thing.”

You grinned. “Except this time, you’re not up on that stage and we aren’t waiting hours in a line for some cheap ass merch.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Speak for yourself., that merch is still proudly desplayed in my closet.”

The two of you laughed, falling back into the same easy rhythm you always had. You talked about everything and nothing—old memories, the weird guy you’d seen dancing earlier, how festivals never failed to make you feel like a teenager again.

At some point, Joost leaned in slightly so you could hear him over the music. “Wanna head out for a bit? Just walk around?”

You glanced at him before looking back at the stage. It was fun here, but something about the way he asked made you curious. “Yeah, sure.”

He gestured for you to follow, and soon the two of you had slipped past the thick of the crowd, wandering through the festival grounds where it was quieter. The distant thrum of music still filled the air, but it was easier to talk now.

Joost slowed his steps, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You ever think about how much has changed?” he asked suddenly.

You glanced at him. “Yeah. A lot, actually.”

He nodded, staring ahead for a moment before exhaling a quiet laugh. “It’s weird. I used to think I had everything figured out—what I wanted, what I didn’t want. But lately, I don’t know.”

You nodded, leaning against a barricade. “I get that. I mean just a few years ago I was basically rotting in bed all day, studying my ass off and had the social life of a dead person. Now? Yeah I never thought I’d be such a social butterfly when I’m with the right people— or person.” You smiled, looking at him.

He glanced over at you, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I never would’ve guessed—you seemed so put together when we met, and you talked my ear off all night. Not that I’m complaining," Joost said, nudging your side.

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. "Well, I guess I can be a bit of a chatterbox when I'm comfortable. I wasn’t always this.. open, though. I kind of just found my rhythm over time. But hey, at least I didn't bore you, right?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "Not even close. It was refreshing, honestly. You seemed so sure of yourself. I thought, wow, this person’s got it figured out."

You shrugged, a little sheepish. "Sometimes it’s easier to fake it than to admit you don’t know what the hell you're doing."

Silence enveloped you, the soft breeze of the summer day blew through you with ease— it was sort of nostalgic.

Joost hesitated before speaking up, kicking a stray pebble on the path. “I’ve been thinking about.. us.”

Your breath caught slightly, but you kept your expression neutral. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning to face you. “I don’t think I ever let myself really think about it back then. When you told me how you felt, I—I freaked out a little, if I’m being honest. I told myself I wasn’t ready, that I wasn’t meant for that kind of thing.”

You nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“But then you stayed,” he said, his voice softer now. “You never made it weird, never made me feel like I had to be anything more than what I already was. And I think, somewhere along the way.. I stopped fighting it.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding just a little harder now.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Love. Relationships. It’s always been something I’ve convinced myself I’m not good at. But I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t feel anything for you anymore.”

“So.. if we do this,” he continued, “could we take it slow? Could you maybe… help me figure it out?”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, warmth spreading through your chest.

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” you said gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Joost let out a breath, almost like he had been holding it in this whole time. Then, slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours before fully intertwining them.

“Yeah?” he asked, a small smile forming.

“Yeah,” you murmured, pulling him into a hug which meant more than a kiss ever could right now.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[just1cefor4ll]

MOOD BOARD;

TIM WRIGHT/MASKY 📹

[just1cefor4ll]

Hiiiii!!idk if you still write for Sbg but I do have a request!Well a few . 😅.One is how arguing with the boys will be.Two is having an anxiety attack during the phantom time.three is reader being kinda like Aiden,but dating Tyler,a bit more calm and mature then Aiden but still like him lol,and last one is when reader shuts up as soon as they have their headphones on and suffers from anxiety so usually listening to music on their ipod,but talks a lot when not listening to music.Srry if this is to much!I’ll write it myself if you don’t wanna,I understand.But would be appreciated!Have a blessed day.Btw I love your work >>

i dont write for sbg anymore! you can see who i write for in the ‘character list’ on my pinned post

[just1cefor4ll]

IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST GIGGLES OKAY SO I THINK THAT LIKE JOOST N READER HAD A LITTLE DUMB ARGUEMENT ABIUT SMTH SMALL BUT JOOST SAYS SOMETHING HE REGRETS N READER WALKS OUT N JOOST STARTS TO GET WORRIED AND HE FINDS HER AT THE LOCAL PARK WITH A MEAN ASS VODKA BOTTLE N THEN THEY WORK IT OUT

heyy! sorry it took me so long to write but i had a few issues while making this😭

i read the whole request wrong and i literally posted it a few days back but deleted it immediately after i left out like half the information you gave me (im so sorry!!) but here it is and i hope you enjoy<33

[just1cefor4ll]

—The hurt in forgetting

Joost Klein x reader

warning. mentions of alcohol, swearing, not proof read

Joost was supposed to take you to dinner with his friends tonight. You had taken your time getting ready—picked out an outfit you knew he liked, done your makeup just right, even worn the perfume he always complimented. You were excited. You didn’t get to see his friends often, and it was nice being included in that part of his life.

The reservation was for seven. You sat on the couch, waiting for him to come home after he ran out to take care of some errands related to the show at a venue in Amsterdam. But he still hadn’t returned—not even five minutes late like he usually would when you had plans. When you checked your phone, there was nothing from him.

And then, while scrolling, you saw it.

An Instagram story—Joost at a bar, laughing with Tommy who you met just a few days back since they were collaborating for a song— with a drink in hand.

Your stomach dropped.

He forgot.

By the time Joost finally came home, you were still sitting in the same spot on the couch, your makeup smudged from rubbing at your eyes. When he walked in, he kicked off his shoes casually, but froze when he saw your expression. "Hey, schatje—" He stopped, his voice tentative. "What’s going on?"

You stood up abruptly, your anger boiling over. "How was dinner?" Your voice was sharp, dripping with frustration.

Joost blinked, clearly not understanding. "Uh.. good?" You could feel the anger twist in your chest. "Yeah? I wouldn’t know. Because I wasn’t there."

His eyes widened as he pieced it together, his face falling. "Wait—"

"That’s right," you cut him off, your voice shaking with frustration. "You forgot about me. Left me sitting here, dressed up, waiting for you like an idiot.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his voice softer now, but still tense. "I.. liefje, I didn’t mean to—“

"Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t," you snapped, pacing in the small space. "But that doesn’t change the fact that you did. You left me here—alone. And you didn’t even think to let me know."

Joost took a step toward you, going in to cup your cheeks. "I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional, I just got caught up—"

You slapped hus hands away from you, cutting him off again. "Caught up? Caught up in what, Joost? You just forgot about me, and now you’re making excuses!"

He clenched his jaw, frustration lining his features. "I’m not making excuses, I’m telling you the truth! You’re the one being dramatic.”

You paused, feeling the heat of anger surge through you. A bitter laugh escaped your lips, making Joost instantly regret what he just said. “Oh? I’m dramatic, yeah? Do you have the slightest idea of how your dumbass made me feel tonight?” You scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We haven’t had time for each other in weeks because you’ve been recording music and that’s totally fine! Both of us were busy, but the one fucking time we make plans you forget. I got excited for nothing and you just stabbed me in the heart like I mean nothing to you.”

Joost’s face twisted with frustration, his patience slipping. "That’s not true! I didn’t mean to hurt you, okay? Just—"

You slammed your hand on the door, cutting him off once again. "No, I’m done. I can’t do this. You’ve made yourself crystal clear on what I mean to you tonight."

Joost took a step toward you, reaching out. "Schatje—"

You spun around, eyes blazing. "Don’t! Just don’t." You yanked the door open, stepping out of the apartment before he could say another word.

Joost sat on the couch, hands clasped together, bouncing his knee anxiously.

He fucked up.

Badly.

He tried giving you space— thinking you’d come back or at least text him.. but hours later you were still giving him the cold shoulder and it was very unlike you.

His phone sat on the coffee table, screen lit up with his unanswered calls and messages.

[joost❤️] schatje where are u?

[joost❤️] please pick up

[joost❤️] i shouldn’t have said that please just come home okay?

[joost❤️] are u safe?

[joost❤️] please answer me Y/N

He rubbed his hands down his face.

Something wasn’t right.

He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and left.

Joost searched everywhere.

He checked the places he knew you loved—the spot where you had your first kiss, the little bar where he’d first worked up the courage to approach you. Then, he walked the streets, scanning every passing group, his heart pounding harder with each minute. The worry pressed down on him, growing heavier with every second. He even tried calling some of your friends, but no one knew where you were.

But then finally, he found you.

Sitting alone on a park bench, a bottle of what looked like vodka clutched loosely in your hand, mascara streaked down your face, a mix of tears and frustration. His chest tightened at the sight, and he immediately moved toward you, kneeling down in front of you.

"Y/N."

You glanced up at him, eyes glassy, and your voice barely audible. "Why are you here?”

His chest clenched, guilt and worry mixing. "God, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I was worried sick when you didn’t answer."

You scoffed, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Could’ve fooled me. Didn’t seem like you gave a single shit about me few hours ago, asshole.”Joost flinched, your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was frustrated, but that’s not an excuse." He looked at you then, his gaze steady despite the guilt weighing in his eyes. "I care about you, Y/N. More than anything. I just.. I handled it all wrong."

You looked away, staring down at the vodka bottle. "Do you still love me? Did I do something to make you upset?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, tears slowly starting to form in your eyes once more.

“Moppie..” His voice was quiet, almost unsure. He swallowed hard before continuing. “I messed up. I should’ve been there. I wanted to be there. But I got caught up, and I didn’t think—I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you.” His brows furrowed as he shook his head. “And that’s the worst part. I didn’t even realize.”

He took a slow breath, his hands moving down to yours, fingers tentative as they brushed against your skin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never have. This is on me. I was careless, and I made you feel like you weren’t important. And that’s the last thing I ever want.”

His grip tightened just slightly, as if grounding himself. “I love you. That hasn’t changed—not for a second. And I hate that I made you question that.” He sighed, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “I don’t expect you to just forgive me, but.. please, Y/N. Let me make it up to you. Let me show you that you do come first.”

You hesitated, shaking your head slowly. "Why should I? So I can wait around for you again? So you can forget me again?"

His heart twisted painfully, the words stinging like a slap. "No, I don’t want you to feel that way. Ever. I’m sorry for making you feel like you don’t matter."

You stayed silent for a long moment, before finally looking at him, your eyes filled with unshed tears. "You don’t get to just fix this with a jacket and some empty words."

Joost’s voice softened. "I know I can’t fix it just like that, but I’m going to try. I’ll prove it to you. Just.. come home with me. Please."

You swallowed, taking in his words, and for the first time, you seemed to soften. "You really mean that?"

Joost nodded, his eyes earnest. "I do. I love you, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose you."

You were quiet for a moment longer, then slowly nodded.

He exhaled in relief, helping you to your feet and steadying you when you stumbled slightly. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you walked back together, the tension between you starting to ease, one step at a time.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache, the memories of last night creeping back in fragments. The bitter taste of alcohol lingered on your tongue, making you grimace. As you shifted slightly, you felt the warmth of Joost beside you—his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his hold firm as if afraid you’d slip away if he let go. His face was nestled against your neck, his breaths slow and steady against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, your emotions tangled between exhaustion, lingering anger, and something softer—something you weren’t quite ready to name. Carefully, you tried to move, but Joost only tightened his grip, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep. His hold was familiar, comforting, despite everything. You let out a quiet sigh, your fingers ghosting over his arm absentmindedly. You still weren’t sure where you stood after last night, but for now, you let yourself rest in the warmth of his embrace.

As you shifted again, trying to ease the pounding in your skull, Joost stirred behind you. His grip on your waist tightened for a second before loosening, and then you felt him inhale deeply against your neck.

His voice was thick with sleep. "You're awake," he murmured, his hold hesitant now, like he wasn’t sure if he should let go.

You swallowed, still staring at the ceiling. "Yeah."

Joost stayed still for a moment, then slowly pulled back just enough to see your face. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but more than that, they were filled with something raw—guilt, regret, something aching.

"Y/N..” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. "I'm sorry. For everything. For forgetting, for what I said… for making you feel like you didn’t matter to me."

You stayed quiet, your fingers absently picking at the blanket. "It really felt like you didn’t," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joost exhaled sharply, sitting up more now, his expression tight with regret. "I know. And that kills me. I don’t have an excuse, but I swear, it wasn’t because I don’t care. I got caught up in everything else and didn’t stop to think about what I was doing to you. That was selfish, and I hate that I made you feel that way."

You finally turned to face him, searching his expression. "You really hurt me, Joost."

He nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I know," he said softly. "And I don’t expect you to just forgive me right away. But I need you to know I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

You studied him for a long moment, your chest heavy with everything still left unsaid. But his eyes—those stupid, familiar, desperate eyes—held nothing but sincerity.

Finally, you sighed. "You’re making breakfast," you muttered.

Joost blinked, then a small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips. "Anything you want."

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling again. "Good. Because I feel like absolute shit."

Joost let out a breathy chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "Then I’ll make it the best damn breakfast you’ve ever had."

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[just1cefor4ll]

sigh i have no ideas for fanfics guys pls send in requests for literally anyone i write for :,((

[just1cefor4ll]

MOOD BOARD;

—How I imagined Viktor (w/ Y/N) in my fanfic

© just1cefor4all

[just1cefor4ll]

okay i really need to know since i just finished the viktor fanfic— how did you guys like it??

feedback would be greatly appreciated whether it be in my inbox anonymously if thats what you prefer or right here in the comments so I could maybe improve in the future!

here is the link to the first part if you havent read it yet:

anyway pls feedback

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader

part 8 || epilogue

A/N. sighhhhhh its the end guys :(((( idk if im too happy w this chapter butt i still hope you enjoy!! and im so sorry for the wait ive been busyy

‘You will never walk alone

You can always reach me

You will never ever walk alone’

Months had passed since you and Viktor got together—and it had been worth every second of waiting and ‘dancing around each other.’Your relationship was effortless in all the best ways. He needed you, and you needed him. It was as simple as that. And yet, you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around how you’d ended up with someone like him—someone who, at first glance, never seemed to think about love, yet here he was, utterly and hopelessly in love with you. Just as you were with him.

You both had your moments of realization—those quiet, startling instances when the depth of your feelings hit you all at once. Viktor had his just a few weeks into your relationship. It had been the worst week imaginable for him—exams, assignments, endless experiments. By the end of it, he was completely drained, barely holding himself upright.

When he showed up at your door, you weren’t sure whether to greet him or offer your condolences. He looked exhausted, circles under his eyes darker than usual— if that was even possible, and he looked like his mind was everywhere all at once.

Without hesitation, you stepped aside to let him in. “Yeah, no thinking or touching anything related to school for at least a day,” you said with a soft smile. He didn’t protest, didn’t even try to argue. He just let you pull him into your bed, where you lay together, his weight pressing into you as he let himself rest for the first time in days.

It was in that moment, as you ran your fingers through his hair, that he understood—this was what it meant to have someone. To be cared for without asking. To be loved without condition.

And he never wanted to go without it again.

truly.y/n posted to their story

For you it was how he admired and noticed every single detail about you. It started when he noticed your fidgeting with your guitar strap before shows, the way he held your hand right then and there and kept your overthinking thoughts calm down in just a second. The way he said things you mentioned months back and he still remembered.

“Hey I’m bored and i’d really want to go somewhere..” You said through the phone, a soft huff escaping your lips since you’ve been rotting in bed for the past 3 hours. Viktor reacted almost instantly, your heart skipping a beat— face getting a bit warm. “How about we go get you those new guitar strings? You said you’ve been wanting to get new ones along with a guitar pick and I’m pretty sure you’ve had getting a new vinyl in mind for a while too.” He rambled, making you stutter out a response after staying quiet for longer than needed. “O-oh yeah sure that sounds awesome! Also I—” You’d want to go to that new cat café down to street of the music shop?” You smile, getting up and going towards your closet. “You know me so well.”

“I know, love.” You could definitely hear the smug smile on his face making you chuckle. “Alright then I’ll give you some time to get ready. Be there in an hour?” You nodded, saying your goodbyes before you went into the shower.

Your heart felt warm— full of his love and you couldn’t be happier. In your past relationships you didn’t really bother mentioning your interests since no one ever bothered to remember— but he did..

It was nice being known.

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 my girl 🤍

liked by ishaaq, ekk0stime, j.talis and 42 others

3 commented

truly.y/n 🤍🤍

mmedarda cuties

ishaaq finally our girl is happy omg

Hang outs became more lively— you didn’t have to awkwardly interact or just glance at each other all day. Everything changed for the better and it was just the best your lives have ever been.

You still spent most of your time at the Last drop like you have for years before you even started dating— or you ended up at the venues bar you had just played at and laughed until they had to kick you after closing time.

Tonight, the usual chaos unfolded—Ekko and Powder bickering over some ridiculous bet, Isha sipping her drink and listening to Mel talk, and Viktor sat beside you in the booth, his arm resting lazily behind you. "You two are gross," Powder groaned, watching as you absentmindedly played with Viktor’s fingers. "Like, actually sickening. I miss when you were just pining idiots."

You smirked, tilting your head at Powder. "Oh, we’re disgusting?" You gestured between yourself and Viktor before pointing at her and Ekko. "That’s rich, coming from you two."

Ekko raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Viktor chuckled, catching on immediately. "Ah, yes. I suppose staring at each other like lovesick fools doesn’t count?"

Powder’s face scrunched up. "We do not—"

"You totally do," you cut in, grinning. "And don’t even get me started on how you two kick me out of our dorm room so you can make out."

Ekko smirked, unbothered. "And? At least we don’t subject people to whatever this is." He waved vaguely at you and Viktor, who still had his arm draped behind you.

"Please," you scoffed. "You guys were worse before you got together. At least Viktor and I had some self-control."

Powder rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, real subtle. Because begging me to change the setlist and making me play the guitar— which I haven’t in like years— last minute so you can sing Iris to Viktor in stead of just saying ‘Hey! I’m in love with you!’ was totally not doing too much."

You opened your mouth to argue but hesitated. "Okay, fair point."

Viktor just smiled beside you. "I still think it was a lovely confession."

Ekko snickered. "You would."

After a few hours of talking and laughing, you decided to slip away for a bit, stepping out back for a cigarette. The night air was cool against your skin as you sat down on the small, weathered bench—probably older than the bar itself. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your pack, but after a few seconds of searching, you sighed.

powpow

powpow love my girls (and my drinking buddy ig)

liked by ekk0stime, truly.y/n, ishaaq, vik.tor222 and 207 others

2 commented

truly.y/n we love YOU!! ❤️

ekk0stime replied stop trynna steal my wife tf

ishaaq replied you mean OUR wife?

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 an angel sent down just for me

liked by truly.y/n, j.talis, mmedarda, powpow and 42 others

4 commented

j.talis credits to us, we sent the angel

ekk0stime replied clapping for me and the band

powpow replied a pat on the back is def deserved

truly.y/n replied kindly stfu

“Shit—”

Before you could finish the thought, Viktor pulled out exactly what you were looking for. He flicked the lighter to life, the small flame casting a glow over his face as he held it up to your cigarette.

“You know,” he said as you took a drag, “this will kill you one day.”

You exhaled slowly, smoke curling between you. “Yeah, yeah. You tell me every time.”

“And yet, you never listen.”

You grinned, nudging his knee with yours. “If I did, I’d be boring.”

Viktor shook his head, but there was no real disapproval in his expression. He just watched you, eyes flickering between your lips and the cigarette before landing on your face.

“You gonna keep staring, or do you want a drag?” you teased, holding it out to him.

He scoffed. “Tempting, but I’d rather not die faster.”

“Suit yourself.” You took another slow inhale, then blew the smoke just enough in his direction to make him roll his eyes.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the bar filtering through the alley. Then Viktor spoke again, softer this time.

The distant hum of the bar faded into the quiet of the alley, the only sounds between you the occasional drag of your cigarette and the soft scuff of Viktor’s cane against the pavement as he shifted beside you.

For a moment, it seemed like he was content just sitting there, but then he spoke—his voice careful, like he had been thinking about this for a while.

“You know,” he started, “I have.. come to a realization.” You exhaled slowly, glancing at him. “Oh? Do tell.” Viktor rested his forearms on his knees, fingers loosely intertwined. “You and I… we spend a great deal of time together.” You smirked. “Usually how relationships work, yeah.” He nodded, but there was something almost hesitant in the way he continued. “It is not a complaint, I assure you. Rather, I find it interesting.” You took another drag. “Interesting how?”

Viktor turned his head toward you, studying you in that way he always did when he was gathering his thoughts. Then, with the same quiet certainty he always had in moments like this, he said:

“That, despite seeing you nearly every day, it never feels like enough.”

The cigarette nearly slipped from your lips. You blinked at him, caught completely off guard by how blunt that was.

And yet, Viktor looked almost unaffected, as if he hadn’t just casually said something that sent your heart into overdrive.

You cleared your throat, forcing out a chuckle. “So you’re basically saying you’re obsessed with me?” You smirk, thinking you got him right back.

Viktor huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “If that is how you wish to interpret it.”

You turned more toward him, resting an elbow on the back of the bench. “You are obsessed with me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. Then, as if accepting the accusation completely, he simply said; “Yes.”

Your breath hitched. No hesitation, no awkward stammering—just the truth, laid bare between you.

He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make your pulse stutter. “And you?”

You swallowed. “What about me?”

Viktor tilted his head, gaze steady. “Are you obsessed with me as well?”

You hummed, thinking about it. “Maybe I am.” He chuckled, grabbing your cigarette and throwing it away even after your protests. “Maybe it is then.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to Viktor. "You regret it yet?" He looked at you with a raised brow. “Can’t say I understand, love.” He stated, confused.

“Us? Am I not too much or too little? I don’t know I’ve never been in a healthy relationship before.”

He hummed in thought, tapping his fingers against your upper arm— a habit he developed whenever you had long conversations while his arm was around you. "Hmm. Let’s see.. I get to spend time with you, no longer have to agonize over if you like me, and I get to do this—" He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back with a smug grin. "So no, I don’t regret a thing and you are perfect.”

Viktor’s words lingered in the cool night air, settling between you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. You huffed out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

You hummed, still not entirely convinced as you took one last drag before flicking your cigarette away.

Viktor tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Not convinced?”

You scoffed, nudging his side. “Bold assumption.”

He just hummed, stepping closer—close enough that you could feel the warmth of him even in the chill of the night. “Not an assumption,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just slightly, his touch impossibly gentle. “I’m simply observant.”

Your breath hitched, but you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse stuttered. “Alright, genius, if you’re so observant, then you should know that Powder’s probably already looking for us.”

Viktor smirked. “Let her look.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a way that was both effortless and deliberate, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment. His hand found your waist, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly—slow, lingering, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it.

By the time he pulled away, you were left blinking up at him, lips still tingling from the kiss. Viktor, of course, looked entirely too pleased with himself.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat rising to your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

He only chuckled, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together. “Mm, and yet, you are still holding my hand.”

You huffed, tugging him toward the bar’s back door. “Come on, obsessed boyfriend. Before Powder drags us back herself.”

Just before stepping inside, he gave your hand a small squeeze, voice light but certain.

“Whatever you say, obsessed girlfriend.”

You groaned, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. And as the noise of your friends filled the air again, Viktor still at your side, you couldn’t help but think—yeah, you were both absolutely gone for each other.

vik.tor222

vik.tor222 don’t regret a single second spent with her<3

liked by truly.y/n, powpow, ishaaq, losttvi and 27 others

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

taglist: @erica2024 @lolixsstuff @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist @th3stup1dcat @fiveperrcent @fadedpinkpen @noxturnalmoth

[just1cefor4ll]

beware the final part of the viktor fic will be out tommorow!! >:D

[just1cefor4ll]

MOOD BOARD;

—JOOST KLEIN as your bf

© just1cefor4all

[just1cefor4ll]

Aahhhh did you know most of your links don't work in sbg and some others 😭😭

Probably because you changed your user, apparantly it's a thing where if you change your user you'll have to update your links because the links have your previous user in them 😭😭😭

I too, realised it too late 😭😭😭😭

yes i know!! im working on updating them :D

i already updated my joost klein fic links and i hope to update the sbg masterlist by the end of today

[just1cefor4ll]

i promise to get the last part of the viktor fic out soon🙏 i have no ideas how to end it and im also very busy rn so im low key struggling here but ill try and manage

[just1cefor4ll]

— 12 reasons why I wanted to leave, 1 reason why I stayed

Joost Klein x gn!reader

warning. ‼️heavy themes like suicide, abuse, alcoholism, death, bullying ect., swearing,not proof read ‼️

A/N. this is based on 13 reasons why and very slightly on anonymously yours. if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic then dm me, comment under this or ask in ‘requests’.

part 1 || part 2

Joost was getting ready to perform, chatting with his friends about how excited they were to go out afterward and finally have some time for themselves.

It was a night like any other—hundreds of fans packed into the venue with their phones out, or in some cases, holding up the most random devices Joost would definitely want footage from later. The stage lights were blinding, but the energy in the room was unlike any other, the kind of night that would be impossible to forget.

However one fan, in particular, stood out. They were right at the barricade, leaning against it, phone nowhere in sight. Unlike the rest of the crowd, they weren’t singing along, weren’t screaming—just watching him with quiet admiration. A few people around them threw curious glances, but they didn’t seem to care.

Joost, too caught up in the performance, didn’t notice them at first. But as the Europapa outro played, his gaze drifted over the crowd—and there they were. Their eyes met, and he stared, intrigued. He was used to fans buzzing with energy, shouting every lyric, but you? You were different.

Once the night ended, he saw you standing there as others made their way out— while you were just standing there in thought. You decided to leave a few minutes after, shoving through crowds and outside into the night. ‘How strange.’ Joost thought to himself but didn’t think too much about it, everyone enjoyed music in their own unique way and he wasn’t one to judge. And so he forgot about you— at least for a good while.

That night a letter had been delivered to him. He had an adress fans could send fan mail to and he loved recieving them. They always made his day and had a lot of the things he got somewhere on display or safely kept in a drawer he’d never throw away. But this letter.. it was strange.

In neatly written letters, the words ‘For Joost Klein, 13 reasons.’

13 reasons.. what could that possibly mean? He had re-read the 2 words about a hundred times before curiosity had gotten the best of him and ripped the envelope open.

—February 14th 2025

Joost,

I don’t know if you’ll actually read this. Maybe you’ll read the first few words, get a weird feeling in your gut, and throw it away. I wouldn’t blame you. It’s easier to ignore things that make us uncomfortable.

But in case you do read it, then I just want to let you know this letter is simply to let things out. I’ll stay anonymous, I don’t want you to find me but I want you to know my story. Why my story of all the hundreds others you could know? I’m not sure. Did anyone ever write this type of letter to you before?

Well to get to the point— here’s reason number 1. (You’ll figure out what I mean later.)

High school was pure hell to say the least. I mean, other than the typical grouping of people (You know, popular kids, nerds.. the weirdo’s..)

It started with rumors after I transferred from my old school because my dad wanted to live closer to family and get back into the city. The rumours were stupid— the kind that spread before you even realize they exist. I was a slut, apparently. A whore from the next town over. I lost count of how many people whispered about me, laughed behind my back, called me names to my face.

The worst part wasn’t the people saying it. It was the people who pretended not to hear. The friends who suddenly weren’t my friends anymore. The teachers who saw what was happening and did nothing.

I tried to ask for help. Once. I sat in an office, across from someone who was supposed to fix things, and I begged them to make it stop. They nodded, they smiled, they promised—then they sent me back to class like nothing had happened.

And this is gonna sound a bit weird— I mean I could care less you don’t know who I am— but that made the first crack in my soul. I was left broken to piece myself back together.

—Yours truly, anonymous.

The letter had kept him up all night—who could’ve known that one of his fans, someone who had stood in the same crowd as hundreds of others, carried something this heavy?

Joost read it over and over, each word digging deeper into his chest. What did you mean ‘you’ll find out later’? What did you mean reason one? Reason’s for what? The weight of it settled in his bones, making sleep impossible. He tried to brush it off, tell himself it wasn’t his problem, that he couldn’t save everyone. But the truth was, he wanted to know who had written it.

He thought back on any weird encounters he had— if he had seen anyone in his neighbourhood who was out of the ordinary but no— nothing came to mind.

And so he waited for the next letter. One day, two days.. a week. Nothing. Nothing came into the mail and he felt worried. Did something happen? Were you okay? He didn’t know you— only that you were deeply hurt and decided to entrust someone with your problems and you just disappeared. That was never good. Disappearing.. it was dangerous and he tried to watch out for any mentions of suicide on the news but surprisingly, 12 days after the first note, another one came. He opened it as fast as he could manage and sped through the letter, the way you expressed your hurt and sorrow.. it was unlike any other.

—February 26th 2025

Dear Joost,

It’s me again! Anonymous. I saw your show this weekend and it was quite the performance. It may seem stalker-ish but I’ve been going to almost every single concert you’ve had so far during this Europapa tour— I simply can’t get enough! :)

Well, to not bother you too much— although the content of this letter is heavy enough.. here’s reason number 2.

My mother died not long after I graduated.

It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t some tragic accident. It was the kind of death that creeps up slowly, stretching itself out over months, maybe years, until one day you realize the person you love isn’t coming back. I remember watching her get weaker, how her voice got softer, how she started forgetting things—little things at first, then big things, like my name.

And then she was gone.

I was left with a father who didn’t know how to grieve and a house that felt like a tomb. People said all the usual things— “I’m so sorry for your loss, she’s in a better place, let me know if you need anything.” They said them like changed the fact that my world had just ended.

After my mother died, my father started drinking. A little at first. Then a lot. Then so much that I stopped recognizing the person sitting across from me at dinner.

He was angry all the time. At me, at himself, at the world. It didn’t take much to set him off. A wrong look. A wrong word. A wrong breath. And then it was yelling, slamming doors, broken glass.

I told myself it wasn’t that bad. That as long as I stayed quiet, as long as I stayed out of his way, I’d be fine.

I wasn’t.

I confronted him once. Told him I was tired of being scared in my own home. That I couldn’t keep pretending things were okay. That he wasn’t okay.

He just stared at me, silent. Then he got up and walked away.

A few nights later, I found him dead— he had taken his own life and left a letter about how sorry he was and how i’ll be better off without him. He rather kill himself than work on his issues and be there for his child. Was I that much of a failure to him? Was I not worth the struggle? Guess not.

I guess that’s why I’ve always related to you as a person and a fan. I know you lost your parents too. And even though I don’t know you, and you sure as hell don’t know me, it made me feel less alone. And I guess that pushed me to not give up, at least not so easily.

—Anonymous

This letter made him feel something different. Was it anger? Confusion? Maybe both. He had questions— a lot of them.. and so he decided to write back. You had be bringing the letters yourself, it didn’t have his address nor anything to indicate this was sent and delivered by a postman and so he hoped you’d find it the next time you’d come around.

He quickly scrambled to find a paper and pen, but as soon as he sat down to write something.. he couldn’t find the words.

What could he say that wasn’t said to you a thousand times already? ‘I’m sorry this is happening.’ ‘It will get better.’ No. Those would be empty promises he couldn’t actually keep.. and so he thought— though for hours until he just grabbed the pen and wrote until there was no more space on the white sheet of paper.

He was nervous to actually put it in his mailbox. What if you stopped writing? He was probably your only hope and so he couldn’t afford to mess this up. The time ticked by and soon the clock strikes midnight, and the time came for him to finally put it into the mailbox where you’d hopefully find it and take the advice and things he had to say to heart.. or at least thought about them. He hoped for the best, for your well being even though he didn’t know you a single bit— how could he wish you anything else? You poured your heart out to him, you chose to do so and he felt some sort of pride in his chest bubble up because it was like he had succeeded in something. Something big. He hoped you thought so too.

—February 26th 2025

Dear anonymous,

I hope you’re doing okay

How have you been?

As you can probably tell, I’m struggling to find the right words to start this letter— but I guess this is the best I’ll do.

There hasn’t been a single night where I haven’t thought about you. About whether you’re still here. About how much of this weight you’re still carrying. I don’t know if you expect me to respond, if you even want me to, but I have to. Because I can’t read what you wrote and just pretend it’s nothing.

I keep thinking about that. About the fact that, despite everything, you’re still here. That after all the shit life has thrown at you—every loss, every time you were kicked down and left to pick up the pieces alone, every night you spent staring at the ceiling wondering if it was even worth it—you’re still breathing.

I don’t know who you are, but I know you’ve been hurting for a long time. I know you’ve been carrying this alone, and I know how heavy that gets. I know what it’s like to walk around with so much pain inside you that it feels like it’s carved into your ribs. Like no matter what you do, no matter how much time passes, it’s always there. And the worst part? The fact that no one ever really sees it.

People look at you and see whatever version of you they want. They see the person who keeps showing up, who keeps moving forward, and they assume that means you’re okay. That you must be fine because you haven’t completely fallen apart. They don’t see the exhaustion in your bones. They don’t see the nights where it physically hurts to be alive. They don’t see how goddamn hard it is just to exist some days.

And after a while, you start to believe it too. That maybe this is just how it is. That maybe you’re just meant to carry this alone, because no one’s ever really noticed enough to do anything else.

But I notice. I notice because I’ve been there. Because I know what it’s like to be drowning and have the world keep moving like nothing’s wrong. I know what it’s like to lose people and realize too late that you were never ready to live without them. I know what it’s like to be so goddamn tired of everything—of the weight, of the silence, of the pretending—that giving up starts to feel like the only option that makes sense.

But you haven’t.

I’m not going to give you some empty speech about how things get better. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that everything happens for a reason, or that the pain you’ve felt will magically fade. That would be bullshit. We both know it doesn’t work that way.

You are not alone in this. Not anymore. Because I see you. And I’m here.

—Yours truly, Joost. :)

You couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down your face, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. The way he put everything into words—your feelings, your pain—it was almost terrifying. It was like, for a moment, he had stepped inside your mind, like he had lived through every dark thought, every lonely night, every moment where you felt like there was nothing left.

It was almost as if, just for a little while, you had switched places. As if he had carried your pain for you, held it in his hands and understood it in a way no one else ever had. And then, just as quickly, you were yanked back into your own reality, into this life that felt more like a prison than anything else.

You gripped the paper tightly, reading over his words again and again, as if searching for some hidden meaning, something that might make this feel less real. But it was real. He had written this. He had seen you, even without knowing your name, without ever meeting you.

And that terrified you.

He understood— someone who was never in your same exact shoes before understood.. you weren’t invisible anymore, not to Joost at least. Maybe you weren’t as alone as you had convinced yourself you were.

And maybe—just maybe—there was still a reason to keep going.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[just1cefor4ll]

i can totally see Joost doing the shimmer and shine dance trend with his s/o

if you dont know what im talking about search it on tik tok trust🙏🙏

[just1cefor4ll]

ummm don’t hurt me I know it’s me again BUT another idea js came to mind what abtttttt a Joost x pregnant reader one n like reader is craving the most ridiculous things n Joost is scrambling around trying to figure out what it is 😞😞

such a cute idea!! here you gooo :D

[just1cefor4ll]

—a true chef

Joost Klein x pregnant!reader

warnings. none! pure fluff :D

You’ve been moody and unapproachable for the past few hours, crying and having a ‘tantrum’ every few hours because you’ve been having a craving you couldn’t really describe.

It was like the craving was there and when you were going to go put and buy the necessities— shoes on after a painful struggle of bending over your bloated stomach which has been growing your beautiful daughter for the past 6 months— it was like your mind went blank and suddenly you had absolutely no idea what you were even thinking about.

It is truly one big struggle having a hangry pregnant woman in your household but Joost was there to your rescue.

He had been trying desperately to come up with something, to help you and offer to order something but it was like every single food was suddenly your least favourite and you were allergic to the type of plastic they’d bring in— but he didn’t give up. He brought up your past cravings or some he saw on tik tok from other men sharing their wives cravings but no no no it was all wrong! He rushed around the house, trying his best to comfort your crying state but you just wouldn’t budge.

You lied in his arms, your head pressed against his shoulder as your tears were finally dried after a 15 minute crying session and a terrible experience for Joost who had pillows and soft punches thrown his way— but he still held you close and kissed the side of your head and whispered how much he loved you and his soon to be born daughter— or son! You never know..

“You feeling better liefie?” He asked, gentleness laced in his voice. You just shrugged, crossing your arms and giving him the silent treatment for no apparent reason. He sighed, rubbing circles on your arm before turning on your favourite show to maybe ease your nerves.

And then— it all clicked.

You jumped from his arms, excitement he has seen ten times before evident in your arms. “Oh my god I remember!” You went to stand up but Joost pulled you back down, holding your hand gently. “How about you tell me whatever it is you’re craving before you end up forgetting, hm?” He smiled softly, noticing your excitement soften just a bit. You nodded and thought for a bit, looking at the floor before you spoke again. “Okay hear me out— plain pasta, ice crime on top with some stroopwafels crushed on top.” You smile proudly while Joost looked amused but slightly disgusted. “Okay I’m pretty sure we have all of that at home. Anything else, moppie?” You hum, before a mischievous smile crept onto your face. “Some chips and jam could be good.” He sighed, getting up and kissing your forehead before heading to the kitchen, putting himself to work.

An hour later he came back and it smelt pretty well to his surprise. He smiled at your excited face, putting the plate in your hands and sat down next to you— a curious look on his face. “Cmon give it a try.” He urged, smiling softly as you picked up the fork, digging into the food that has caused you— and Joost hours of ‘pain’. You hummed, tasting the sweet food on your tongue and you immediately fell in love. “Oh my— Joost, love, you need to try this!” You exclaim, handing him the plate for him to try.

Joost chuckled, taking the fork from you. “Alright, alright,” he said, taking a bite. His eyes widened, and he let out an impressed whistle. “Okay, I take back every complaint I had. This is actually good.”

You grinned, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Worth the struggle?”

“Debatable,” Joost teased, nudging your shoulder. Then his gaze softened as he looked at you. “But seeing you happy makes it worth it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and suddenly, the cravings that had driven you both to near madness didn’t seem so bad. Joost tilted his head, watching you curiously. “So, what’s the next weird food combination you’re gonna make me suffer through?”

You laughed, already thinking about it. “Oh, don’t worry, love. I have plenty of ideas.”

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