#cw: rpf talk

[mish-tique]

I am that anon and I've spent so much time thinking about the overlaps between kpop and f1. Not necessarily in a bad way because there's nothing wrong with enjoying either but both fandoms and industries have some drawbacks that are extremely similar. The "fan wars" thing and this attitude of fans thinking they're somehow superior because of the group or driver they stan, or even the gatekeeping attitude of trying to keep new fans out because they know more about this thing because they stanned this driver or group first. There's also this weird focus on looks in both to where it almost makes it seem like talent doesn't even matter anymore. I feel like this is glaringly obvious in kpop fandom and even if you watch idol survival shows and see extremely talented singers and rappers eliminated or judged on the basis of not having the right look. But it's been growing in the f1 fandom too. I have even seen large numbers of people agree that Max has no place in f1 because he's not hot enough to be marketable. That has nothing to do with driving a car, and a multi time world champion is going to attract tons of sponsorships so I'm pretty sure driving is more important there too. It also isn't as obvious with every idol group or driver, but there are some unhealthy body image standards and just discussions around weight in both fandoms and industries that make me v uncomfortable. This is a lot lighter than other topics too, but I also feel like neither fandom can let mistakes and things that don't matter in the long run go without bringing it up over and over again? I don't mean this in like a "this person said something problematic" but more in reference to their actual jobs. I've seen loads of ridiculous fan wars where kpop fans will share a video of the ONE time an extremely talented vocalist's voice cracked on stage, to try to assert that vocalist isn't talented. It very much gives off the same vibes as like people mentioning Sochi with Lando, or people mentioning how Max crashed a lot when he first joined F1, you get the idea. Clearly it would become a problem in either industry if it was becoming a repeated behavior, but this standard both are held to where if you make a single mistake, people write you off and claim you're untalented for your entire career is kind of weird and puts even more pressure in already high-pressure environments. It's not necessarily f1 directly, but I also think there's a pretty strong case to be made about the investments that go into idol training and f1 feeder series. Huge monetary investments, sometimes leaving their family and friends behind for years, very very little chance for most of making it in either if they're honest, more talent flooding the markets of both than really there is room for. There's also the same thing with like "big companies" giving their groups a much higher chance of success versus small companies that is very similar to the whole top team / midfield or backmarker team dynamic in f1. Like 9 times out of 10 the success either are able to achieve depends mostly on the contract they sign. Also, and probably most obvious, the FAN SERVICE. And don't get me wrong, I love a good wholesome hug when an idol or driver is going through it or maybe even happy and celebrating. I don't necessarily like these seemingly forced for PR "bromances," and I know a lot of people liked it, but I found things like the crowd yelling to Lando and Daniel to kiss on that one fan stage kind of creepy? Like I wouldn't care if they DID want to kiss, don't get me wrong, there's just something weird about fans demanding they do it. Its almost to where people can't separate like RPF from reality at times. It gives off the same vibes as people shipping idols until they basically start avoiding each other to avoid dating rumors. I don't even know how long this is getting, but I'm sure it's like a novel, so I will stop there but yeah. Many thoughts. 😅

HELP anon i must say that i was a little scared when i first saw this in my inbox dkghsdgsd. but don't worry!!

I used to be a kpop fan from 2015ish to 2019ish (? lines def aren't clear) and got "officially" into f1 early 2021 so for me it's more of a flow from one to the other and getting a lot of deja vu moments.

The "fan wars" thing and this attitude of fans thinking they're somehow superior because of the group or driver they stan, or even the gatekeeping attitude of trying to keep new fans out because they know more about this thing because they stanned this driver or group first.

Please, the fanwar flashbacks i keep getting is exhausting. And then especially when I think back about the solo stans vs other solo stans or the group stans vs solo stans.

Back then it would be baekhyun stans vs chanyeol stans (excuse me, I forgot the name for the solo fandom sdkhgsd. I can remember that exols used to be eris but that's about it!) and nowadays it's chirlies vs carlos fans, and what used to be exols vs armys because red bull fans vs Mercedes fans.

There's also this weird focus on looks in both to where it almost makes it seem like talent doesn't even matter anymore. I feel like this is glaringly obvious in kpop fandom and even if you watch idol survival shows and see extremely talented singers and rappers eliminated or judged on the basis of not having the right look.

Oh. My. God. The visuals!! The discussions there used to be within group fandoms over who was the main visual, who had no right being a rapper/singer/dancer simply because they relied on their visuals and the discussions about visuals in itself was. Something.

But it's been growing in the f1 fandom too. I have even seen large numbers of people agree that Max has no place in f1 because he's not hot enough to be marketable. That has nothing to do with driving a car, and a multi time world champion is going to attract tons of sponsorships so I'm pretty sure driving is more important there too.

I feel like some part of the f1 fandom is letting some off track factors play too much into the on track expectations and facts. Just because a driver is the next pretty it boy doesn't mean he will automatically do well, and just because someone isn't conventionally pretty doesn't mean he shouldn't have a place in a team... You can definitely enjoy a drivers looks or aesthetic but some have seemed to forgotten that their actions on track speak for themselves.

It also isn't as obvious with every idol group or driver, but there are some unhealthy body image standards and just discussions around weight in both fandoms and industries that make me v uncomfortable.

The reactions to Max during winter break but general body pictures are crazy. In both the kpop and f1 fandom fans seem to have some kind of image in their head of what "healthy" should look like and they fucking riot when reality doesn't match it.

Clearly it would become a problem in either industry if it was becoming a repeated behavior, but this standard both are held to where if you make a single mistake, people write you off and claim you're untalented for your entire career is kind of weird and puts even more pressure in already high-pressure environments.

You're totally right here anon, but it also weirds me out at times because like, in the end for both fandoms it counts that these people are fans and 90% of the time do not know all the facts or just can't look at it objectively. Both fandoms desperately need people to step back, take a breath and remember it's either a sport or music. ffs.

(...) but I also think there's a pretty strong case to be made about the investments that go into idol training and f1 feeder series. Huge monetary investments, sometimes leaving their family and friends behind for years, very very little chance for most of making it in either if they're honest, more talent flooding the markets of both than really there is room for. There's also the same thing with like "big companies" giving their groups a much higher chance of success versus small companies that is very similar to the whole top team / midfield or backmarker team dynamic in f1. Like 9 times out of 10 the success either are able to achieve depends mostly on the contract they sign.

The way being a red bull junior or a Ferrari academy driver is so alike to being an SM/YG trainee. They offer the best training, but also have the most new drivers/trainees vying for their attention. And let's be real, feeder series are totally the pd101 of f1.

Also, and probably most obvious, the FAN SERVICE. (....) I don't necessarily like these seemingly forced for PR "bromances," and I know a lot of people liked it, but I found things like the crowd yelling to Lando and Daniel to kiss on that one fan stage kind of creepy? (...) there's just something weird about fans demanding they do it.

THEY DID WHAT NOW??? But yes, that gives the same energy as fans demanding idols to do kisses etc on vlive/youtube lives. It's creepy as fuck and it makes fans seem like they truly think they can demand the craziest things from "their" idols/drivers.

Its almost to where people can't separate like RPF from reality at times. It gives off the same vibes as people shipping idols until they basically start avoiding each other to avoid dating rumors. I don't even know how long this is getting, but I'm sure it's like a novel, so I will stop there but yeah. Many thoughts. 😅

My only blessing is that while drivers seem to be aware of the "joke" romances, is that they seem less aware of RPF. (We are going to exclude that time where people close to max started reading my 4433 for fun and just could NOT shut their fucking mouth).

Which is kind of wild to me, because while kpop fans did talk a lot about rpf on twitter they also censorred a lot of stuff as like, ch*nyeol instead of chanyeol ( i guess the mv0 instead of mv1 of f1 only then less negative and more for safety), and some idols were aware of it, it was mostly ignored and looked away. You made sure you followed the right people so you were either surrounded by camp anti rpf or camp rpf.

With f1 rpf it's very much more containted to tumble and ao3, except lately i have seen a trend where people have become less afraid of mentioning actual rpf on twitter. Which scares me a little because drivers feel more active on twitter skdghds.

Yet at the same time ship names seem much more common knowledge and also accepted within the whole fandom (i.e. lestappen gets used by "bros" on reddit as emotional support rivals but also by ao3 writers.). So in f1 the line between "joking" implied shipping/rpf and actual shipping/rpf seems way thinner than in kpop, where back when i was there, you either used certain names or you absolutely Did Not Even Think About it.

Fuck I remember days where baekhyun fans would talk about chanyeol in a positive way and would censor chanyeol's name just to prevent chanbaek shippers from interacting.

Anyways thank you so much for your message and your interesting insight in your view on it!

I was about to say that i'll share my twitter thread about this topic on this page but i realized i got pics of myself on there so help me That Is Not Happening.

[kingdom0fcards]

Hearts Broken On My Back With The Lights On.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian/Nicholas Ruffilo

Content Warnings: death and mourning

Title from Walking On Gravestones by I See Stars

A/N: I listened to Feel Something by Movements and sobbed when writing this, idk why I'm on a sad fic kick recently but I like them

Noah says he feels like a cold graveyard that no one visits anymore, one that's lost by time and taken back by the earth.

Maybe he's more right than he thinks.

He haunts what he used to know, walking around his apartment like a husk of his former self, going to his room to sulk for hours.

When he does leave, he doesn't come back for hours. No one knows where he goes, they never will.

He visits that graveyard, going to the only gravestone never forgotten. He cleans it, taking the foliage off the stone and scrubbing it so he can read the name. He replaces the flowers every time, every week.

He visits twice a week, sitting on the same patch of grass every time. Noah leans his head on the side of the gravestone, like it's his shoulder and he's still here.

But it's cold and hard. But he's not here.

The stone digs into his skin a bit too much when he hugs it, it's not soft and smooth. Sometimes he gets cuts, blood getting on the stone. Maybe that'll bring him back, like a ritual.

But it doesn't.

His world used to be so bright, so happy, and now his world is rotting in the ground. He's probably a skeleton by now, all the art adorned on his body gone and his beautiful features only captured in old pictures.

He wish he could accept it. He wishes he can accept that he's gone. But he can't.

Noah sobs and tells the stone that he misses him.

"I miss you... I wish you were still around," he takes breathes between his sobbed out sentences, it feels like he's suffocating, "it's our anniversary." his throat feels tight, "happy five years, Nick."

Tears roll down his face as he hugs the stone, accidentally crushing the flowers he brought. Roses were always his favorite, he even tattooed one on Noah. It was painful, getting it on his knee, but it was a fond memory that he'll forever treasure.

They met when they were young, getting together five years after that and laughing at how repressed their emotions for each other were. People said they should've gotten together sooner, oh how right they were.

Noah losing him three years after they got together was the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

It was a day before Valentine's Day. Snow was falling and they were dancing in their kitchen, laughing, unaware of what the phone ringing would do to them. Nick answered, said he had to leave because of an emergency and Noah understood, giving him a kiss goodbye.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Noah got a call hours later that he died, his world collapsed. He fell to his knees, sobbing and inconsolable, just like how he always is at his gravestone.

His tears stain the top of the stone a darker grey, the droplets disappearing in a bigger sea of the grey as it starts to rain. His tears covered by the droplets of water coming from the dark sky.

He doesn't move, only hugs the grave tighter and only leaving when the graveyard closes. He walks home soaking wet, still sniffling slightly as he walks into his apartment. Going into his room, he gets into his bed, not bothering taking his wet clothes off.

On his nightstand, his phone glows with a new notification but he looks at the picture of his lockscreen, he starts sobbing again.

He misses him so much.

[xeeljii]

SHE'S MY COLLAR

I clear my system, I don't need no other  This is my persona, secret lover, she’s my collar 

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

EDIT! Prequel available, you can read that first if you want.

Summary: You don’t want a relationship and he does, he should know better to keep falling in your trap but the feel of your soft legs wrapping around his hips is too tempting to quit so like a fool he keeps coming back to you.

Word count:  5.4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, friends with benefits, mentions of past sex, mutual pining, set in Berlin but reader is not specified to be German or anything, no specific body descriptions. 

You had met Joost some months ago, before the incident and before he blew up too. There was an instant connection. Not just psychical but he was easy to talk to, so funny and kind, really unlike anyone you had ever met. He was incredibly charismatic and the people around him seemed to adore him, you honestly had a crush as soon as you started talking but you had an amazing poker face too so you did well to hide it. The night you first had run into each other you were at a private event at some club in Berlin that a well connected friend had invited you to. He caught your eye and apparently so did you. The rest of the night was a whirlwind, you drank heavily, danced wildly and laughed together until your jaw started hurting, all to end up back at the place where he was staying.

You hadn’t even slept together that first time, well you had in the sense that he had let you sleep on his bed, wearing his clothes. However, in the morning when you woke up  he had fucked you within an inch of your life, still heavy with sleep but so deliciously slow savoring every thrust. He was a generous lover, always preoccupied with your pleasure first and he was a fast learner, sweet and eager to please. You liked fixating on the many beauty marks and tattoos that littered his body, enjoyed sharing a shower together and falling asleep on the couch after a make out session. It was never awkward, it just felt so good from the get go. The lines were not entirely clear, you would have casual sex together but also go out for lunch, and hang out like normal friends. You had bought him his own toothbrush for your place at some point, he didn’t say anything as not to fluster you but he appreciated it. He didn’t leave right after he finished, always made sure you came first too, he liked cuddling and he would help you clean up softly between your legs when your limbs were still too heavy for a bath. He was usually in town only for a day or the weekend at most but he made an effort to see you every time. He would bring food to have dinner before trying to get you in bed, he also brought you other trinkets form his travels and always texted and called you when he was away so you wouldn’t forget him in the meantime, as if that was even possible. It was nice but it made your heart hurt a bit, scared and expectant for when the fantasy would stop and your idilic “friendship” would end.  

You felt a little out of place in his life, he would always invite you to his shows and there you would see how you were not the only one enamored by him. It was fine really, you weren’t together, there was no expectations and furthermore you had no right to even feel jealous when it was you who coyly stopped his advances every time he tried moving the goalpost from casual to serious. He couldn’t complain, he felt so at ease when he was with you, you were smart, funny and beautiful, he really felt you came straight out of one of his dreams. But you seemed so far away at the same time, perhaps exactly like an illusion you wouldn’t let him get any closer. He knew you had a life of your own, friends and a job you loved but he also wished you would actually take him up on the multiple offers to fly you out with him, yet you never did.  Through the months you had known each other he had found himself in your bed countless times, he liked it more than taking you back to whatever place he was staying at. It felt like home in a way that made him greedy. Your place was nice and tidy, a little on the old side but it just made it more charming in his eyes. He wanted to bring you back to his home, to show you around the places he liked and where he grew up, to have you on his bed waking up every morning, yet for whatever reason you wouldn’t let him. Still, like an idiot knowing he was playing for the losing team he kept coming back to you every time.

One of the many nights you had gone out drinking together you ended up, as usual, getting separated from the group and wandering the streets alone, just the two of you, hand in hand. There was never an uncomfortable silence with you, his thumbs traced shapes on the side of your hand while you pulled him seemingly aimlessly under the street lamps. “Look!” You said happily pulling at his hand to follow, there was what seemed like a little run down playground and some old looking photo booths, you pulled him inside one. You both squeezed into the small bench, you were almost sitting on his lap. “You have to put the bill here” You pointed at a metallic slip. “I don’t have cash on me” He replied. “Oh! you owe me big time then” You said smiling poking out your tongue at him, you pulled some bills from your pockets and the machine started making strange noises before a bright light blinded both of you. You immediately erupted into shared laughter “Okay, quick pose!” The machine kept snatching pictures one after the other and you kept feeding it money amused. At some point he became too distracted by the faces you were making and didn’t even bother looking towards the camera, he thinks that is probably when he truly fell for you. You had noticed his stare and looked down at him. “You are wasting my photo money if you don’t pose!” You whined, he couldn’t bring himself to speak a single syllable, he just pulled you further into his lap and kissed you deeply. It felt like the world had started and stopped right there inside that photo booth. After an eternity in your lips he softly spoke up again.

“Can I walk you home?” He said a breath away from your lips.

You nodded, face red and pupils dilated “Yeah” Your voice was so pretty when you were breathless, he couldn’t wait to have you moaning under him or over him, however you wanted, he was just a fool at your mercy.

Before you left he had picked up the photos you almost forgot and shoved them in his back pocket, back home in the Netherlands he had carefully placed them on the drawer of his nightstand and kept coming back to them on days when he was feeling particularly homesick for your arms. 

Now he was in Berlin again, for a show, you knew because he had texted you days before asking you to come. You had told him you couldn’t, that there was some important work meeting you had to prepare for. Truth was, it wasn’t that important, but you were trying to put some distance between the two of you. Every time you had sex it became more tender more gentle, addicting in a way you knew you couldn’t allow yourself, it felt like making love. You felt bad about not getting to see him, guilty about the disappointed little face he made in a selfie he sent you as a reply, but you felt it was for the better. Like this, soon he would get tired and move on so he could become a fun memory that hopefully wouldn’t hurt you too much when you thought about him years down the line.

But you weigh heavy on his mind and on his heart and when the show is over and the alcohol is all gone he feels an impulse that gets him to his feet. He wants to see you. He knows you are busy but also distantly feels like you are avoiding him, like you caught on the fact that he is falling, or more like already fell, for you. But so what if he likes you? What if he is in love for real? What you don’t know cant hurt you and if he gets hurt in the process then that is fine, it doesn’t bother him, maybe only bothers a little bit. He knows the way to your apartment by heart, could probably get there blindfolded, has been there so many times he feels it is a second home, wants it to be a second home. He is drunk and deeply melancholic, he is feeling down on his luck but maybe a beautiful woman can save him, but only if it is you. The venue he is at is luckily close enough to your pace, he makes his way on foot, somewhere along the night it had started raining, fitting for his mood. He is only wearing a light hoodie, that quickly gets soaked, he honestly can’t even feel cold he is just moving on instinct trying to reach you. Soon enough he gets to the entrance of your building and pulls his phone out, texts you before his brain can stop him. 

You are rolling around in bed not able to fall asleep at all, not worried about the stupid meeting but knowing that Joost is in town and your idiot past self denied him makes you feel terrible. You should just enjoy the moment as much you can, take everything he is willing to give you and when you get thrown away there will be more fun memories. You don’t really know why you are tying to be the responsible one in this situation, you should just bet everything on your losing horse and let future you worry about how to deal with the unpleasant consequences. Right as you unsuccessfully try to close your eyes again and let the soft rain outside lull you to sleep, you hear the little ping of your phone on the nightstand. You already know who it is without having to check in the way your stomach does a summersault. But still, you pick up the phone and read “I’m outside, can I come in?”. Idiot, it is raining, he probably doesn’t even have an umbrella. You have to let him in or he will catch a cold, it is a kindness really, you have no hidden motives, you are just being nice, your hands are tied. You try to convince yourself as you immediately stand from the bed and walk quickly towards the door. 

You ring him in and wait right by the door with your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. He all but races pathetically upstairs, two steps at the time, like he can’t be fast enough to reach you. You wait on held breath and you hear his heavy footsteps right outside but wait until he knocks, then you make a show of waiting a few seconds, pretending like you are just getting up and open the door slowly rubbing your eyes as if you had really been asleep.  You move aside to make way for him.

“Come in” you mumble after a small yawn leaves your mouth, he walks in and takes his shoes off, then you notice that he is dripping wet. “Joost did you walk here?” You drop the sleepy act immediately.

“It wasn’t that far” he mumbles looking away, there is a small blush blooming on the high of his cheeks.

You stand in front of him taking his hoodie off “Go get in the shower, you are gonna catch a cold”.

He does as he is told there is a strange cozy feeling in this interaction that goes straight to his heart.

In the shower he keeps trying to come up with what to say to convince you to date him seriously. For a songwriter he feels he is not very good at this words things right now or maybe he is too drunk or maybe he cares too much about what you will think of him. He gets under the warm water, reaches for your soap, not the expensive one because you will get mad that he used it, but the one you use for everyday, his favorite one. He likes this, smelling like you, it makes him feel like he is a little bit a part of you, makes him wish you would become a little bit a part of him too. After a few minutes you open the door of the bathroom to drop a warm towel for him and take his clothes to dry. You say nothing, it feels too domestic, like it is a built up habit the two of you have. He wants to keep you all to himself. He never asks if you are seeing someone else and you do the same, it is common curtesy but he feels the question itching at the back of his throat every time he sees you start dressing right after you are done. He could take care of you, he makes good money, make it so you could be at every one of his shows. The rational part of his brain thinks he is being cruel. You love your job and your career, it would be like keeping a bird on a cage he can’t bear the though while at the same time he just keeps having this vivid fantasy of coming home to you every day, of waking up by your side, seeing your tooth brush next to his, have your hair clog the drain of his shower, actually buy groceries to have at home and not just the pre-made meals and beer he is used to. He wants to treat you right and be good for you and yet you are standing firmly on your side denying him even the chance. It hurts him, he feels a little inadequate for as much as he is sure of himself he still wants to ask what is stopping you from taking a chance on him. 

Outside you try to fix the bed a little bit after putting his clothes on the dryer. You feel electricity right under your skin, to have him naked in your bathroom, the man that just few hours ago had so many people screaming his name. It feels like a beautiful secret in your tongue, only for you. The reality is you like him as much as he does you, you really do, you are eager to see him every chance you can and your chest start beating so hard when you get a text from him. Since you met there has been rarely a week you go without talking and it feels nice, you want to keep it going. But he is a budding star, when you met him you could see it, that he was made of something otherworldly it was just waiting below the surface for the whole world to see and now they finally did. You are so incredibly proud of him, but it is exactly because of it that you can’t have him. He is young, can have so much fun with as many people as he wants, you don’t understand why he would want to tie himself down to you, knowing you can’t even follow him around like he wishes. He should be free, you would feel like you are cutting his wings too early and you can’t bear the thought of him deciding half way through that you are boring, that having a girlfriend is boring and the world is his oyster and he should just enjoy himself as much as he wants without you stopping him. He is not that type, not at all and you know it, but it still won’t let you take the step even when he has his hand out expectantly waiting on you. 

You hear the water from the shower stop, you are probably not getting lucky tonight and that is okay, you just like having him near you, with the weather now he works as a personal heather. You haven’t really just slept together without sex as an excuse, not since the first time at least, and it makes you a little nervous. You think briefly about changing into nicer pajamas but he already saw the ones you are wearing so no point, you feel a rush of nervousness raise on your body. Before you get more anxious, he comes out of the bathroom, hair leaving little droplets of water on your floor as he walks. White towel hanging low from his hips, you appreciate the softness of his belly, the happy trail that disappears under the towel, the way the hair there is darker than anywhere else in his body and even more noticeable when wet. You can’t help but scan all over his body, ogle at his chest, his soft pecs and the thin hair on them that looks white usually and now a dark golden yellow, his wide shoulders littered with freckles because he can’t be bothered to ever use sunscreen, he is so beautiful it hurts. Without the excuse of sex you feel shy looking and maybe like a little bit of a creep, you try to avert your gaze. If he notices the staring he says nothing about it and slowly walks towards you. You are holding a towel in your hands “Let me help you” You say raising your hands above his head, he stands right in front of you making you look up, you start gently moving your hands to dry his hair a little, he places his big hands on your hips and pulls you closer, wants to kiss you so bad but stops himself, he doesn’t want to get kicked out in the middle of the night when your unmade bed looks so delicious and inviting. You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, his thumbs drawing circles in the exposed skin under your sleeping camisole, you want to make this last forever. “Done” You say almost in a whisper, you throw the towel on chair nearby. Almost on instinct you raise to your tip toes and kiss softly at his cheek, too late you realize what you just did, infinitely more intimate than what you should, you just look away quickly and clear your throat.

“Lets get some sleep yeah?” You say turning around to hide your blushing face, you climb on the bed and raise the comforter, patting at the empty space beside you motioning for him to move.

You make it so incredibly hard not to like you and he is such a weak man. He takes a few steps before reaching the edge of the bed, takes the towel off and throws it to the chair before climbing up behind you. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat, of course he would sleep naked he has no other clothes here but it also makes you fight a great urge to stare at his pretty dick hanging heavy between his legs. You turn over on bed and have your back face him, you cannot deal with any more of this tonight so you will just have to avoid it and try to figure out the best diplomatic solution on the morning. As you start to settle down you feel him move behind you, for a moment he stops and then you feel his strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you to his chest. Your heart is beating wildly, he has to be able to feel it trough the thin fabric of your pajamas that is doing very little to separate you from the heat of his body, you can’t be expected to sleep like this. He thinks even if you were surgically sewn together it would not be close enough, you feel so soft under his touch so tender he wants to, no, needs to fall asleep just like this for the rest of his life. 

You close your eyes really hard trying to ignore everything around, you still actually need to sleep. There is a long moment of silence that feels like an eternity, then you feel him take a deep breath. You fear you know what is coming and you fear you are not strong enough right now to stop it.

“Why don’t you wanna date me?” He asks, the words come down on you heavy like rocks, you can feel a strain in his voice, you hate to be the reason why his usual cheerful tone is fully gone.

“Do we really have to have this conversation again?” You say your eyebrows knitting in worry.

“Yeah actually I want an answer.” He swiftly turns you around like you are weightless, he looks directly at you, deep blue eyes expectantly, you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, the tension is rapidly building up, you want to put distance between you but he has your legs trapped, tangled between his.

“Joost you know-” He cuts you off before you can give him the usual excuses.

“I’m serious about you, about us, would it be so terrible to date me?” He has a kicked puppy kind of face, you accidentally laugh at his dramatics, he adores that sound so much never tires of it. You snake your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer into a short kiss trying to distract him, he deepens the kiss eager explore you mouth, all but melts under your touch and you far too soon pull away before he can do more.

“You are hard” You mumble against his lips in between giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you, he is trying to be serious here “Ignore it, I am in the room of the woman I like where everything smells like her, give me a break.”

If there was any light in the room you would be able to see how deeply red his face is now.

“What are you a dog?” You say shaking your head entertained by his reactions.

You try to pull away but he grabs your hand again and rests it square against his heart like this way he will make you understand. “I really like you” He is not letting it go this time, you shake your head lightly again and pull your hand away, you cannot face this proximity, you untangle yourself from his embrace and raise into a sitting position, he does the same. 

“Joost you are great, really I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you and I don’t think I ever will again.” There is a horrible pause, he knows what is coming next, the awful fear of rejection becoming reality far too quick. You continue “But you are traveling all over the world and that is so cool, I just can't be part of that.” He doesn’t understand why you look so sad when he is the one being let down here.

“We could make it work you know, phones exists and I come here all the time, it is only like an hour by plane” He is pleading at this point, feels so pathetic doing so but can’t stop himself. You make an effort to meet his gaze, he is being so sincere it feels bad not to.

“You could have someone new every night, at every city. You are young, you can enjoy yourself, you don’t have to tie yourself down to me, it would be such a waste-”

“Not to me, not when it is you” He is indignant at your proposal, he hates the idea that you could be so easily replaced, he feels like an idiot, like none of his efforts to make you understand how precious you are to him have reached you.

“I don’t want that” He is so exasperated now, it is like you are not listening to any of the words he is saying or not believing them which is even worse. “I don’t want any of that I don’t like it, I know I could but I don’t want it. I like you, I want you”. He pauses for a second to give himself strength to get it all out "It is my business and you can reject me if you want but you don’t get to tell me what I should do” He feels offended that you seem to not understand at all.

You had never seen him this angry. He goes speechless wracking his brain trying to come up with something else to say to convince you, maybe drinking before coming here was bad, he should do this sober, maybe bring some flowers and wear the blazer you like, maybe then you would not throw him out like an old toy. He is looking at you waiting for anything, his eyes are glossy, his lips almost tremble into a pout, his hands are clenched into nervous fists at his sides, he is pleading and you can’t help but reach out for him too. Fuck it, if you are gonna ever get hurt you want it to be him, if you get heart broken you want it to be him, whatever happens good or bad, you want it to be him, he is worth everything.

You close the distance between the two of you again, move to sit on his lap just to have him as close as possible, he has become a rock in your bed, feels like if he breathes he will break the spell and you will disappear right in front of his eyes. You grab at his hand, unclenching his fist with you fringes, softly stretching his palm and placing it right above your fast beating heart before speaking again.

“I really like you too Joost” His eyes shine impossibly bright, he looks at you stupefied, he can’t quiet belive what he is finally hearing, he feels your heart beating fast right under his palm, hard proof that you are just as gone for him as he is for you, his brain is trying to catch up to what is happening, but you help him.

You caress his cheek with your other hand and bring him into a sweet kiss. Your lips move together slowly like you are kissing again for the first time, his tongue pushes softly into your mouth, he wants to taste you, he traces the back of your teeth, you suck softly on his plump bottom lip, you smile into the kiss and pull away gently but continue to pepper soft kisses on his lips, on his  jaw, on his cheeks. You wonder if he was always this handsome or has your love made him even more beautiful now. He pulls you closer hugs you thigh, happy just to be in your embrace again and feel like he truly belongs there. He chases after your lips kisses you like he is drowning and you are the only source of air, he feels the softness of your mouth it takes him back to the first night he met you, he wants to stay here forever, live on this moment until the end of time, only you and him in a soft unmade bed kissing for eternity. 

Finally with lips kissed raw you pull away leaving one last small peck on the little beauty mark underneath his bottom lip. He holds you close, traces soft circles with his palms on your back under the camisole savoring every inch of exposed skin he can touch. You let him relax under you for a bit before you speak again, with a new world of prospects opening in front of you you want to share some more ideas with him now that all the cards are on the table.

“You know…my company is thinking of opening a new branch in Nethera-”

“Yes” he cuts you off immediately, you laugh at his eagerness.

“I didn’t finish talking” You push the hair away from his pretty face so you can see him better.

“You can stay with me yeah? I have a guest room you can stay there if you feel more comfortable, I am not trying to imply we have to sleep together but I mean we could if you wanted to” He is running his mouth all nervous and impatient like he is just a few steps away from winning the race of his life, you don’t reply, all too amused at his monologue, but it makes him fear he might have overstepped and scared you too fast with commitments. “I mean, until you get settled and you find an apartment, I could help you with that…” He trails off and looks away shyly, then looks up again holding your gaze. “But you could stay there too if you wanted, it could be your home too.”

He looks up at you from under white eyelashes, eyes full of hope. The possibilities seem endless, at this moment you feel like you can touch the sky with your hands and that if you couldn’t reach he would pull it down for you. You nod speechless, bite your lip and kiss him again, because you can, because he is yours. 

You keep playing with his hair as rest his head on your chest, feels your heart beat under his ear, he wants to memorize it, now knows he has all the time in the world to do so. You move slightly on his lap.

“But we really do have to sleep now” You say, your voice sounds suddenly so groggy, every worry you have had the past months, that would keep you up at night, seems to have melted away in an instant and your body is feeling so tired and heavy.

He nods against you and moves you softly into laying down position again. He wants to start getting used to taking care of you, he thinks it will come easy, already feels so satisfied with so little, he lets you settle on the bed then moves behind you again snaking his arms around your torso pushing his palms under your shirt to feel the soft expanses of your belly as you breath in and out, you let him, between his strong arms it feels like home. 

You feel your eyes close heavy, the sound of his calm breathing behind you lulling you to sleep, the steady beat of his heart perfectly in synch with yours, but you can’t fully let slumber take you since somewhere in the kissing his dick woke up again and is now pressing against your back.

You laugh to yourself before speaking. “Joost you know I can feel your dick, right?”.

He hums in acknowledgment but makes no further move, he just keeps holding you on his embrace, his chest against your back soft and deliciously warm. “Ignore it” He says in a sleepy mumble that transforms into a yawn right above your head. “My girlfriend has work in the morning, you have to let her sleep.” He loves how that sounds coming from his mouth, gets excited thinking about using that word again.

If you turned around at that moment you would see the beautiful smile that paints his features, he looks like he just won the lottery. He can’t wait for tomorrow, to wake up and have breakfast in your table, gets excited over the prospect of all the mundane with you. He falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body nestled between his arms, in his  dreams he sees even further ahead, dreams of taking you with him everywhere you will let, of changing your contact name to “Liefde” and of continuing to call you his girlfriend forever and ever until one day if he is lucky, he can upgrade it to wife. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PREQUEL: STEP ON ME ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, cheating

Author’s note: so, i got a request from the lovely @lfdybadgirlsdiw that i wasnt able to let go and now, here we are, the beginning of a new five-parter! enjoy! lmk what you think, thanks! <3

Wordcount: 5.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The first little crack.

“No, that is your side. And this should be mine.” Joe argued, arms flailing, gesturing at both sides of the bed as he stood at the foot of it.

The first little crack of many.

“Joe. I have always slept on this side,” you said, already in bed, tucked up and all cosy, barely able to keep your eyes open still.

If you hadn’t been aware of how much Joe had been pushing to get his way lately, this could have come across as playful banter.

“Listen. If we’re going to establish actual sides, you should be furthest away from the door.”

But given how Joe had been making you feel after compromising, after giving in and meeting you halfway, no one would think this was funny.

“Why?” you closed your eyes and nuzzled into your pillow, not even slightly bothered by Joe’s pleading who desperately wished you’d roll over to what, up until now, had been his side of the bed.

“For… just, because.”

“Hmmno.”

“For danger. What if a burglar gets in?”

You sighed. Deeply. Sank into your pillow more. It was the kind of breath released just before you were about to doze off, and it was meant to signal that you weren’t going to engage in this discussion any longer.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Joe could go and lay on his side of your bed, or he could go and sleep on the sofa, and that was that.

“Babe.” Joe tried to give you a little push, but the way you’d wrapped yourself up proved you needed more than just a slight shove to end up where he wanted you.

“Hmm.”

You were bone-tired, already all sunken into the mattress, ready to go visit another planet for a good few hours.

“Babe.”

You opened a bleary eye to see Joe still look just as awake and ready to win this argument as he was when you’d closed your eyes.

“This flat won’t get burgled.”

“You don’t know that. Might have someone kick in the door tonight, and, then what? Hmm?”

Something cute about this need to protect you, and you knew that’s what he could dress this up as, but the timing of it was so God-awful, you couldn’t see past the fact that you wanted to fall asleep on your own side of the bed already.

“Think of it this way,” you started, holding a stretched hand out that Joe easily took, knees pressing into the mattress as he towered over you for a minute. “In case of a fire, I’ll be the first one out.”

And just like that, Joe let himself fall into the empty spot next to you, seemingly giving up and giving in.

Good.

“A fire is much more likely than a burglar.” You concluded, word slurred and eyes closing again as Joe got his legs underneath the covers.

“That’s not as good but…” Joe thought for a second, then said, “If a fire breaks out here, it’ll be from that old hair thing of yours. That thing you use that smells like it’s melting.”

“See?” you mumbled, disagreeing, but happy to let sleep take you.

“Or because you leave an empty pot on a burner again.”

“Mhm.” Little less happy. You only did that once and it wasn’t even your fault.

“Or because–” 

“Joe.”

A short moment of silence followed.

“Fine,” he whispered, adding, “for now.” on the back-end of a deep breath. 

When you woke up the next morning, you were on Joe’s side of the bed.

“Morning.” Joe smiled, just beyond pleased that he’d gotten his way by moving your unconscious body across the bed in the night.

You gave him the blankest stare you’d ever given someone, which was easy because you’d only just opened your eyes, sleep still causing enough confusion to fully comprehend why Joe seemed to be awaiting a response.

You tutted and rolled your eyes when his expectant smile only grew.

He had rolled your defenseless body over in the night. What the fuck, actually. And this idiot thought he was being all cute. Was reaching over to take your hand into both of his, to pull it to his mouth where he gave it a small kiss.

“You’re such a child.” You pulled your hand from his grasp and turned away from him as you sat up.

“What?” Joe feigned indignancy, his smile too big to sell it to you properly.

“An actual child. This isn’t funny.”

“Oh come on. It’s a little funny.”

You got up and out.

“Babe.”

You ignored him. Walked right past him.

“Baby.”

The first little crack.

“Oh, come on!”

The first little crack of many.

Friday. End of a long day a long week of whirlwind work days and awful nights of sleep. It’s the wrong time of day for this.

“A flat white for…”

Autumn. Rainy, cold weather that your wardrobe’s not caught up to yet. It’s the wrong time of the year for this.

“Joe?”

You can give yourself a stern talking-to later about how most of the day had completely passed you by in a blur, but you hear the words flat white and Joe and are immediately more in tune with the world.

You look up from your phone in the queue to see Joe step forward and take his drink.

“Thanks.”

It takes a slow second for you to realise it’s really him. A slow blinking moment of just looking at him, a tired mind slowly speeding up to real world tempo, before your brain goes, it’s him.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’re too tired for this.

Wrong place, wrong time, entirely wrong headspace.

The second he turns, you make eye contact for the briefest second which prompts him to do a comically exaggerated double take that immediately makes running into each other less awkward. You smile despite your mood.

God, you’d almost forgotten what he’s like.

It’s been a couple of months now, just over half a year, and the hurt has dulled enough that trying to be normal, and civil, and courteous, and polite, and kind shouldn’t be the most difficult thing ever.

That’s your ex-boyfriend.

You hope your face didn’t show how that first millisecond of seeing him struck you, but you saw him before he saw you, so you are probably fine.

That’s your too-kind-to-pretend-to-not-have-seen-you ex-boyfriend. Your somehow-still-really-happy-to-run-into-you ex-boyfriend.

And now you’ve gone and smiled at him, even though pulling up the corners of your mouth feels like exercising at the minute, you need a nap so bad.

You shouldn’t have left work early.

Shouldn’t have decided to go for a large coffee on your way home.

Shouldn’t have looked up.

Shouldn’t have even wanted to check if the flat white was for your Joe.

Correction.

No longer your Joe.

Just Joe.

It’s fine, it’s fine. There’s a whole new person in your life. It’s fine. But it would’ve been lovely if the universe could’ve waited until after you’d drank this large black coffee you are about to order, but of course that’s never how things work.

Stars are against you when it comes to Joe, apparently.

Joe could’ve left it at that. You’d had a moment of oh my god it’s you, what are the odds across a coffee shop and he could have easily waved and left. Have that be the whole interaction. That would have been fine.

But instead, Joe decides to stay, and he communicates with looks for a moment. With facial expressions and gesturing arms.

It’s a wild look around from Joe that tells you, what a weird time and place to see you! and a funny tired shrug from you in reply that tells him, life’s weird, what can I say?

You feel a little proud that you’ve not ignored him. That you’ve not pretended you just didn’t see him only to later contemplate sending him an incredibly lame “was that you getting a flat white this afternoon?” text that you’d regret the very second those ticks would’ve changed colour.

You’re working at 40% brain activity right now, and it’s a little difficult to use your social filter to pretend to feel any other way than you’re actually feeling.

Up until now that meant that your bad mood was everyone else’s problem.

Seeing Joe now, it suddenly means that you can’t pretend that you don’t immediately notice shit like how he isn’t wearing any of his rings. And how he probably wore something that covered his hair earlier today.

Wrong things to focus on, but a tired mind is difficult to keep in its lane.

You see how Joe checks his phone with a thoughtful look before he then nods as he puts it away. He gives you a questioning look as he points down.

You got a minute?

And you do the same; check the time on the phone that’s already in your hand and think of a million excuses to turn him down, but you only have the gym later, and that’s it. When you look back up, you give him a funny nod and a half shrug and you try your best to make your eyes look like you’re properly awake.

Yea why not, go on then.

You’re an adult running into an ex and you said you’d stay friends and you had really truly meant it then, so this is fine.

He looks a little too handsome for his own good, but it’s fine.

Joe waits for you. Hangs around near the bar at the windows and half-sits on one of the stools there, one foot still on the floor, more leaning than actual sitting, with his back towards the windows.

You try not to watch him, but you can’t help but notice the way he lets his eyes scan the room for a minute. The way he looks over his shoulder as his eyes dart across the street.

It occurs to you how quickly the checking you used to do for him stopped after you broke up. After you left his world. It’s a little weird how, here, in the same coffee shop, in the exact same location, you’re in entirely different worlds from each other, and the closer to you get to the end of the counter, the more they overlap.

It’s one of the things you haven’t missed.

When you step into earshot properly, after ordering, you make eye-contact and smile at each other.  

“Hello,” Joe makes his voice go up and down, like he’s just as pleasantly surprised to see you as you do him, but you’re trying to not make it so obvious. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You smile and grab his arm for a second as a hello, rather than going in for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Joe smiles right back, and takes the touch of his arm as enough of an invite to hug you anyway.

You ignore the flicker of worry you see across his face, the slight twitch in his eyebrows, just before his face disappears from your view and all you can really focus on is how Joe smells.

All right.

Jesus.

Joe smells like that little hidden bottle of his old cologne that you still have, and it’s like being transported back into your old life a little. The life that you tried to hold onto with all ten fingernails until they all chipped and broke and bled.

When you step back, Joe smiles all warm, eyes fully fucking focused on you, like he’s glad he can just look at one thing instead of having his attention with all of his surroundings.

Not a hint of worry there now.

God.

You’ve missed him.

Miss him still.

You know that he can see how tired you are. That the slight concern that flashed across his face was only there because of how you weren’t fully opening your eyes after each blink.

“Nice shirt.” You comment, doing your best to keep the ice broken and not let it freeze back over.

Joe looks down at himself and grins wider. He’s wearing a shirt he only got because you said you liked it. Which, you still do.

“Thanks. You look good too.”

Liar.

What follows after warm smiles is warm small talk by the end of the counter until your coffee’s ready. He asks how you’re doing. What you’re up to. Remembers something specific that you had coming up at work ages ago, something that’s now long passed, and Joe wants to know how it went.

“My God. All right, Mister Memory.”

Charmer. He’s basically interviewing you.

“Oh, sorry. Is that weird? I’m being weird. Sorry.”

“A little. But… um…” you have to really think about that for a second. “Yea, all of that went fine.” you guess before your brain finds the right memory and you give him a slightly more certain, “Great, actually. Yea. It was good.”

Joe smiles. Nods. Looks like he’s really fucking pleased for you which is almost funny because you remember a time where your work hours were mostly an inconvenience to him.

“I should be asking what’s going on with you!” you chirp, and Joe just shrugs. Jokes, “Nothing much. Quiet life. Sort of boring, you remember what it’s like.”

You laugh. It’s out of you before you can stop it.

Fuck.

Joe has no business making you feel the way he is right now. You’re tired and in actual need of comfort. It’s dangerous to be around someone who knows how to give you what you want. What you need.

Your coffee gets placed onto the counter, and there’s this awkward moment where you now have your drink and maybe this is the moment where you go, Okay, was good seeing ya, bye! and dart out the door.

But instead, Joe grabs you by the arm and nods towards a table where someone’s packing up. “Come on, let’s sit.”

And just like that, you’re being lead over to go and sit down with him.

You take the biggest gulp of hot coffee before you sit down, definitely burn your tongue, and are already thinking of ways you can explain this to others. What if someone sees you? If someone gets a sneaky pic in?

You’re not doing anything illegal, obviously.

And it’s not like you went to this coffee shop on purpose.

You hadn’t meant to run into Joe.

But now you’re taking your coat off and so is he and you both have hot drinks to warm your hands and Joe pulls in his chair real close and asks you a bunch more questions about work, and your family, and he says he heard you traveled, which you did, and he’s making you laugh, and yea, you’re tired, and you keep suppressing yawns, but the coffee is helping a little, and it’s nice to sit, your limbs are thanking you for it, and Joe is acting like you meet up for coffee all the time, like this is normal, and you almost start believing it, he’s being so friendly and casual, until he suddenly leans over the table, both elbows on the faux marble surface, ducks his head down a little before he says, “Is this the time we... where we talk? About what happened?”

It catches you off guard, a little.

You don’t want to talk about what happened.

You kind of don’t even want to be talking to him at all if you really think about it. Not because you don’t like it. Despite that, actually. It’s lovely talking to Joe. That’s precisely the problem. You didn’t break up with him because you stopped liking him.

The longer you look at him, the more nice things you’re remembering about him. The more you start thinking about what could have been.

So you don’t respond for a moment, and then you give a half-hearted shrug.

“We don’t have to.” you say quietly, almost absently.

There’s not enough brain space available to you right now. This is the type of conversation to have five years down the line, after a long holiday where you’ve managed to catch up on sleep and… you know… when you look well rested. Tanned. Satisfied with life.

Not now.

You could carry all your essentials in your eyebags right now if you really tried, you think.

Joe just smiles at you. Watches you for a moment, head tilted back a little, chin jutted out.

“I mean, is there anything left to say?” You’ve pretty much said all that needs saying. Everything else is implied and doesn’t need to exist in the world, you think.

The two of you didn’t work out because it simply didn’t work out.

Joe seems to disagree.

He twirls his paper cup, his flat white, and raises his eyebrows a little. Makes you hold your breath at what he’s about to say next.

“Weird if I tell you I miss you?” his voice is all soft as he asks you, almost breathy, like he knows the effect it will likely have on you.

You let your head drop to your shoulder and grimace, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh my God,” you blurt out, and you sound like you’re in actual pain.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Joe immediately back tracks, but this motherfucker is smiling. Blushing. He makes eye-contact with you as he goes for another sip of his coffee and then looks at his hand placing the cup back down as he adds, “You’re right. No need for me to tell you. So I won’t.”

He’s already said it.

You try your best at hiding a smile as you mirror Joe, going for a sip of your own. When you place yours back on the table, Joe can hear from the hollow sound of it that it’s empty.

“I, em…” you start, hand reaching for the back of your neck where you rub at your skin, a little awkward now that Joe’s said that he misses you. “I should probably go. I’m meeting…ugh, it’s– someone.” You cringe inwardly, try to do it so Joe doesn’t see it. You could’ve lied and said you’d be meeting Emily, but it’s a thought that comes to you after you’ve already been weird about it.

And Joe knows you. He sees you cringe inwardly just fine. Sees you rub at your neck the way you always do when you’re tired. Remembers all the times he used to take over and you’d fall asleep within seconds.

Joe knows that if you’re as tired as you look, there’s no thinking before you speak.

Someone.

Joe nods.

So there’s someone.

He bets this someone doesn’t know shit about how you like the back of your neck massaged, fingers in very specific spots, pressing and rubbing into very specific pressure points.

You resist the urge to rub your eyes. Rub your neck instead.

He sees that too and, in turn, tries to hide the sudden, protective wave that washes over him so you don’t see it.

He’s lucky you’re too worn out to catch his twitching hand that wants to reach out and replace yours.

“Sorry for making it weird.” Joe is still smiling, and you don’t want him to think that what he said is the reason why you’re suddenly done talking to him. You really are meeting someone. That’s not something you made up to round up this interaction.

“No, no. I’ve got–” you check the time, and you have so much of it before you have to be somewhere, but Joe doesn’t need to know that. “I’m meeting someone to go work out with.”

Joe raises both eyebrows and widens his eyes, the playful shock there clearly visible.

“At the gym.” You finish, and you scrunch up your whole face in a full grimace, because you know what he’s going to say.

“At the gym?”

“At the gym.” You confirm, finding your coat whilst your eyes remain in contact with Joe’s.

He sits back, a little baffled. A little… proud.

“She goes to the gym. Wow.”

You hate the gym.

You hate working out in general, but doing it in a gym, indoors, on machines? You really fucking despise it. Still. You’re going. Trying to put your best foot forward in this new relationship you’re trying out with this new person in your life.

Joe knows you hate the gym. He remembers the countless times he’d told you to just come with him. Come work out with him at his gym. He also remembers the countless times you’d told him to fuck off and that you’d rather die.

Something something personal development. Whatever. You’re fucking exhausted but, you’re trying, all right? Progress.

“That reminds me, actually,” you say, struggling to make your arms find the sleeves of your coat. “I still have your pumas.”

You say pumas like it’s meant to be a dig at him.

It is a dig, in your opinion. His old faded Speed Cats, these two feminine looking things. Fucking purple too.

The very second Joe learnt that you didn’t like them, still don’t, he started wearing them extra often.

Little shit.

“Oh my God,” Joe says softly as he huffs a laugh through his nose and closes his eyes for a joyous second. “My pumas.”

“I found them on one of the top shelves of the wardrobe.”

“I…” Joe narrows his eyes at you in suspicion, smile unwavering. “What were they doing there? If I remember correctly, that’s not where I left them.”

You know that’s not where Joe left them. That’s where you left them. Hid them. So he’d be forced to buy new shoes. Different shoes. Which he then did, so, it all worked out fine.

You give an innocent shrug as you get up, slow and sluggish, arms still not in the sleeves of your coat properly.

“No,” you sigh, feeling how bad your legs want you to go and sit back down. “But that’s where I found them.”

Joe laughs heartily and then, like you’re not two people who went through a painful break-up, also gets up and helps you into your coat. Holds it and guides your arms where they’re meant to go. Folds the collar so it sits how its meant to. Lets his hands linger there for a fraction of a second too long, but it’s nice.

It’s nice having Joe close.

“If you’re not doing anything right now,” you start, but stop because you’re already regretting where your mind is taking you.

You want to have Joe close so he can rub the back of your neck when you sleep.

No.

There’s someone else.

You can’t.

Shouldn’t.

“Oh, do you mind?” Joe is quick. Easily takes the step you hesitated to take.

“Well, they’re your pumas.”

You’re not sure how he does it. How he keeps this air of normalcy. Like inviting himself over to your flat to come and pick up a pair of shoes is all casual and fine.

It’s not.

And yet somehow, it is.

The familiarity that’s still there added to the amount of time that’s passed somehow makes this not feel like the wildest thing, even though you know that if you tell Emily that Joe came round to pick up his stinky old trainers, that she’d worriedly ask you if you were okay.  

The worry would be misplaced, because you’re actually totally fine.

You’re fine as Joe leads you from the coffee shop, opening his umbrella and offering an arm for you to link yours through, just so you can share the protection from the rain, no other reason.

You’re fine as Joe doesn’t need to be told where to go, obviously knows where you live and the quickest way to get to it.

You’re fine as Joe says something about the bakery near your flat that he used to go to all the time, and when he looks inside he squeezes his arms to his body in a silent moment of celebration, involuntarily squeezing you closer to him.

You’re fine as he makes you laugh when he pretends to be normal about baked goods, shrugging and clearing his throat and softly murmuring that you didn’t just witness him get excited over coffee cake that he’ll definitely get on his way home.

You’re fine as he keeps you from tripping up because you’re not really lifting your feet enough for your shoes to not get caught on the uneven pavers of the wet London streets you’re braving together.

You’re fine as you make your way into your building, where you share the small space of the lift together, and you lean against one of the side panels and can see in the reflective surface of the doors how Joe’s giving you a soft smile.

You’re fine as you let Joe into your flat, where you leave him momentarily to go get his shoes from your bedroom, and when you come back, he’s discarded his coat over one of your dining room table chairs, has already gone and turned down the thermostat, and is looking at one of your bookshelves near the TV.

“Found ‘em.” you say, holding them up before placing them on the table near his coat.

Joe throws you a look over his shoulder, smiles, but then goes straight back to scanning book spines. Like he doesn’t care about his pumas at all.

“You read this?” he picks up a book, turns around so you can see which one he means as he reads the blurb on the back.

You’re too busy staring at the visual of Joe in your messy living room, wearing the shirt you chose for him, to answer the question.

Too busy letting your eyes focus on his hands that you want in a very specific spot on the back of your neck right now, because your body remembers exactly what that feels like and you’re tired.

“Did you like it?”

Joe is in your living room and… it’s actually not fine.

Joe is wearing a shirt he only got because you liked it, and it’s not fine.

Joe is holding a book and you can see how large his hands are and it's not fine.

Joe confessed that he misses you, and you’re not fine.

Fuck trying to mold yourself into someone that goes to the gym for this new person who pales in comparison to your ex-boyfriend who kept you close and walked you home and who just took off his coat like he’s going to stay for at least a minute and who you can just be yourself around. You don’t have to pretend to care about working out, or about an untidy living room, or about your hair that’s frizzed up from the rain and... isn’t that just lovely?

Your lack of answers eventually makes Joe look up at you, and oh… you look like you’ve fallen asleep standing up, eyes slightly distant and unfocused.

“Hey, you okay?” the book Joe’s holding finds a new home on your coffee table as you blink a couple of times to bring yourself back into reality.

It doesn’t really work.

“Yea… yea, fine.” you say softly, your expression unchanged, eyes still just as glassy.

Joe doesn’t buy it.

Knows you.

Sees how you’re watching his hands. His fingers. Knows exactly what you want.

“You sure?” he steps closer, a little hesitant, because what even really is he doing here? He doesn’t want those ratty old shoes back. He thought those had been thrown out ages ago, well before the two of you got even close to considering not being together as an option.

Joe watches you stare into space for a moment, and sees you blink so slowly, you might as well just keep your eyes closed at this point.

There’s not a chance you’re going to be meeting someone at a gym.

Joe walks across the room until he’s right in front of you, and he stays there until your eyes slowly rake up his body and you’re looking each other in the eye.

He knows what he’s doing here.

You know what he’s doing here.

Joe watches you raise a slow arm up to let your own hand touch the back of your neck as you inhale deeply through your nose.

Joe smells nice.

“Can you, um…” you pause and frown, and let your deep breath escape you in a sigh, not finishing your question as you rub your fingers where you want Joe to rub his.

You don’t need to finish your question.

Joe knows you.

Knows he probably shouldn’t do what he’s about to do, but finds he wants to and so, why the fuck not, you know?

He grins, but only slightly, and uses both his hands. One to remove your own hand from your neck, the other to grab hold of it there, where he pushes his thumb right into the dip at the base of your skull and starts to rub in small circles.

It almost works like an off-button.

Joe knows it does, because it always has.

He has to grab hold of one of your arms to make sure you don’t topple over. He ignores how he feels your whole body shiver.

“You’re not going to the gym.” Joe says gently.

“Mhm,” you hum, not even sure if you’re answering a question or not.

Joe smells so nice. Familiar and comforting and just, lovely.

“I think you’re going straight to bed.”

Joe barely has to guide you. The smallest of pushes just makes you turn and walk straight back over to your bedroom where your wardrobe doors are still open from fetching Joe’s old trainers, and you vaguely think how Joe shouldn’t be in your bedroom with you, but… he is, and so what?

You try undressing with heavy limbs, jeans a little clammy and difficult to take off. You do most of it with your eyes closed and wait for Joe’s hands to come help you out. But they don’t come, and it’s a little confronting how that disappoints you.

It’s something to think about later though.

Joe came over for his shoes and is now just making sure you don’t trip and bash your head on something. That makes sense.  

But then, Joe hands you one of your own folded pyjama tops from one of the drawers and you can’t help but let a tired laugh escape you. You sit down on the edge of your bed and take it from him with dropped shoulders, head hanging to the side as you look up at him.

This is so stupid.

“Sorry,” Joe says a little sheepishly. “I just… remember where you keep things.”

“No, no,” you yawn before you add, “It’s fine.”

It’s not fine.

“I’ve missed you too.”

So stupid.

But again, it’s all something for later. Your leading with your wants right now. Not rational thought.

It’s want that reaches for Joe’s hand after you’ve put your pyjama top on.

It’s want that whispers, “Take your shoes off.”

It’s want that sits and stares at Joe with half-lidded eyes as he undresses until he’s in his underwear.

It’s want that asks if Joe can put his hand back on your neck where he had it before.

It’s want that lets you be scooped up and placed into your own bed, on the wrong side, furthest away from the door.

It’s want that doesn’t give a shit about where you are in your bed, because all you care about is that Joe’s there, and he is there when he climbs into bed right next to you and lays behind you on his side, not entirely big-spooning you, but if he just got a little closer...

Then he softly asks, “Is this okay?” and holds you by the back of the neck again which makes you whine into the pillows.

Joe is allowed any spot in the bed he fucking wants.

“There you go,” Joe says softly, and he suppresses a smile as he feels how you relax.

It’s the wrong place, the wrong time and absolutely the wrong person.

You logically know this.

You’re going to have some explaining to do tomorrow.

You know there’ll be missed calls.

There’ll be hurt feelings.

There’ll be guilt.

You know it’s all wrong, but it’s hard to let your rational mind make smarter decisions when it all feels so stupidly right.

You’re not doing anything illegal.

Joe said he misses you, and it took a little time, but you said it back. You miss him too.

Joe decides to stay awake until you fall asleep, and maybe he’ll take a short little nap himself too before he goes to get himself some coffee cake, he’s not sure yet.

He has to stop himself from shaking his head at the fact that he can tell just by the way you’re breathing if you’ve fully dozed off yet or not.

It shouldn’t take long. You’ve barely been able to focus your eyes on anything from the moment Joe saw you in the queue of that coffee shop.

Just before you drift off, Joe feels how you slowly turn around to face him. How you scoot a little closer. Then two smaller hands find his forearm, and Joe lets you wrap both arms around his bicep. Lets you hug it to yourself, which involuntarily makes his hand rest on one of your bare thighs.

Joe’s hand is warm, and his touch his gentle, and it fucking makes your eyes sting.

There’s something about being in bed with a man that makes you feel safe and protected and like you can actually sleep.

It’s not like that yet with who you’re seeing now. These are the things that take time. Hence how fucking tired you currently are.

Have been all day.

All week.

“Yea,” you suddenly whisper, and it’s so soft, Joe wouldn’t have heard it had he not been so close to you. “Miss you.”

You tighten your arms around Joe’s which makes his chest ache, and finally let sleep take you.

Joe smiles.

You said you miss him.

He knows you do.

Thinks that maybe you don’t have to.

What if there’s a way back?

He’ll find a way back. He knows he can.

“Yea,” Joe repeats, and decides taking a nap in your bed on your side is actually the best fucking idea he’s ever had.

“Miss you too.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

@demonsanddemogorgons, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson

@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

@mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr, @munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq

@niallersfreckles, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid

@readergf, @royale1803, @skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac

@solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle

@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[nayedoll]

Best Friends

joost klein x reader

description: you have always considered joost to be your best friend, oblivious to his feelings for you. after three years of quiet yearning, joost finally finds hope after you break up with your boyfriend, letting your true feelings for him come to light.

cw : fluff, friends to lovers, angstyyyy

word count : 2.6k

rpf ahead, do not read if uncomfortable !!!

───────────────────────

2019, at some song festival in Amsterdam; that was the first time you and Joost met.

Joost was sitting somewhere on the festival grounds, chatting with his equally drunk friends over the loud music. His eyes scanned the venue, littered with small lights as he sensed the electric atmosphere of the crowd surrounding him.

Then, his gaze settled on you approaching from afar, Alanis’ hand in yours so as to not get lost amongst all the people around you. Joost smiled as Alanis introduced you to the rest, saying that you were her friend who had just moved to the country.

Everything about you was perfect. Your hair was blowing in the gentle breeze as the colorful lights from the main stage highlighted your face, the shy smile on your lips becoming all the more apparent. You were wearing a short red dress that contrasted beautifully with the black outfits of everyone else and an oversized jacket on top that matched the material of Joost’s own jacket.

You instinctively sat down next to Joost whose friendly smile helped soothe your nerves. You couldn’t quite explain it but he radiated a sense of comfort and warmth that made you want to stick closer to him, despite having just met him. Maybe it was his dazzling smile or the entrancing blue color of his eyes or maybe it was just him in general. The way he softly spoke to you as if he had known you since forever, the awkward giggles that escaped his lips in between telling silly jokes, making you laugh along with him. You liked him.

It didn’t take long for you and Joost to become friends -best friends to be exact- as you quickly found a place in the friend group.

Joost felt so lucky, so blessed that you had stumbled into his life, slowly falling in love with you all the more with each passing day. You felt a certain way about him too, though you dismissed it as nothing. Platonic is what you called it in an attempt to mask your true feelings that you couldn’t act upon. Something else that was holding you back.

That something, Joost found out about shortly after.

You had both attended a friend’s house party, initially as a big group but got separated as the night progressed, in the various rooms of the house.

At some point, Joost was looking for you amidst all the drunk people that reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. He was planning on telling you how he felt for some time now and the handful shots of vodka he had previously taken, gave him the last bit of courage he needed.

A friend of his stopped him midway, making small talk as Joost looked around impatiently in hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

His eyes scanned the place some more before he finally found you but you weren’t looking at him. Instead you were on top of someone else with your lips hungrily pressed against his.

Joost felt heavy and the noise around him seemed to stop.

“Dude, you alright?” his friend asked, partly bringing him back to reality.

“Who is that?” Joost simply said with his eyes still glued on you as he nodded to your direction.

“Who?” his friend yelled looking back to you, “Oh him? That’s Y/n’s boyfriend,” he explained, “They’ve been together for some time, I think. He’s partly the reason she moved here,”

Joost nodded nonchalantly in contrast to the chaos that was his mind at that moment. His friend went on to talk about something else but all he could hear was the sound of the word boyfriend replaying in his head. Boyfriend? He should have expected it. To you, he was nothing more than a best friend.

He spent the next hour, alone on the balcony, smoking every cigarette in his pack, down to the last. lHe was hurt and confused, trying to understand why you hadn’t told him about your boyfriend. To be fair, you had given him a reason to think that there was something more there.

However, all of his bad feelings quickly subsided when you came out to the balcony, also alone, smiling brightly at the sight of him. You sat down next to him in excitement, relatively drunk as you rumbled about the party. Joost didn’t mention anything about what he had seen earlier. He only listened to you with a loving smile like he always did. He would wait for you.

—

Three years have passed since then.

Things slightly changed in your life as you slowly adapted to your new lifestyle in Amsterdam and realized many things. For one, you recognized how different you and your boyfriend, Adam, really were as he began showing his true self.

It was only recently that you broke up with him as your relationship had become a pile of screaming matches and his unreasonable jealous outbursts. You had tried really hard to ignore all the problems, get past them since the beginning but truly, you were growing more impatient with him by the day as his behavior became more toxic and something you couldn’t just push to the side anymore.

The final straw was when Adam asked you -practically demanded- to stop seeing Joost because according to him, men and women can’t be friends. A series of heated arguments followed at the end of which you briefly ended things with him and left his house without a second thought.

He tried to reach out multiple times but you didn’t budge, making your decision clear. In complete honesty, it wasn’t easy at first. Despite everything, you had been with him for quite some time and getting used to being alone was a struggle. But as time passed, only then did you look back on your relationship and realize just how toxic it was.

Ironically enough, Joost was there for you since the beginning. When he was with you, all the stress and loneliness you were feeling disappeared as he always came up with a way to lift your spirits.

You had been best friends for long enough but really, something felt different now. It almost felt like you were getting to know him again, truly appreciating how caring and loving he was. While you were with Adam, you could never get too close or too intimate with Joost. But lately, it seemed like all you needed, wanted was to be with him, just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company.

You had been spending the day at his place and vice versa, doing whatever, be it talking, watching movies or cooking -though you were the one doing the actual cooking while he entertained you.

Today was one of those days again. Joost had invited you over to show you some of the songs on his upcoming album and you had agreed, excited that you would see him again and also get to see his work.

Joost opened the door and entered his apartment, grocery bags still in hand. He had left you alone briefly to get some beers and food since you had spontaneously decided to spend the night at his place.

He placed the beers atop the kitchen counter, while humming one of his songs but paused briefly, confused by the silence of the house. Normally, you would have already come into the kitchen, talking his ear off about whatever topic you were most interested in at that time. You would always apologize afterwards for talking so much but Joost didn’t mind, he liked hearing your voice, seeing you get so passionate about something.

“Y/n?” He yelled out, expecting a response from the living room where he had last left you in but the silence continued.

“Earth to Y/n,” he said in a deeper voice, cupping his hands around his mouth as he walked through the house.

He came into the living room and it didn’t take long to spot you, passed out on the couch. You were sleeping soundly with Joost’s chunky headphones slowly sliding off your head.

Joost smiled softly at the sight, then tip toed over to the couch and sat down next to you, his body sinking into the plush mattress of the sofa. One of his songs was playing from the headphones in a muffled sound which earned a small laugh from him. How could you have possibly fallen asleep during any of his songs?

He removed the headphones carefully, pausing the music on the phone that was also slipping from your hand. His eyes lingered on your face.

Your lips were slightly parted with a hint of lip gloss on them as soft sighs escaped your mouth. Your hair delicately fell on your face that was slowly sinking into the couch pillows on your side.

Joost sighed, a bittersweet feeling coming over him. He loved you so much. From that moment at the festival until now, you were still so beautiful, both in appearance and in character. Back then at that party, he had lost all hope when he saw you kissing Adam. He had never liked him, or the way he treated you. But now that you had finally broken up with him, that hope was rekindled.

He brushed the hair out of your face, resting his hand lightly against your cheek just for a moment longer, caressing it with his thumb.

The sensation caused you to wake up, your eyes opening ever so slightly as you rubbed them with your hands. You purred, instinctively leaning into his touch as you looked up at him, your vision still blurry.

“Hey,” you smiled, recognizing the person in front of you to be Joost. The sun rays coming through the window casted a warm glow on his face and gave his blonde hair a golden hue.

“Good morning,” Joost grinned, then furrowed his brows, “Oh wait, it’s 7 pm,” he teased, you lightly slapped him on his shoulder and scoffed.

“Very funny,” you said in a mocking tone and rolled your eyes.

You stared at each other in silence as a sudden heat spread across your face and you held your breath. His blue eyes screamed of desperation, the need to say something and you sensed a hesitation in him that you had never seen before.

You blinked rapidly and pulled away from his touch. Joost quickly withdrew his hand that was on your cheek, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence.

“Did you get any beers?” you asked in an attempt to restore the comfort that previously filled the air as you shifted in your seat.

“Uh- yes, yes I did,” Joost breathed, giving you a strained smile, “Got your favorite ones actually,”

A small smile formed on your lips.

“No way,” you exclaimed, “Heineken?”. Joost gave you a soft nod.

“You know me so well, Joost.”

And he did. All those years and he still remembered the smallest of things about you when your ex didn’t even know what your favorite color was. Probably another reason why you broke up with him, you guessed.

“Eh it’s nothing,” Joost said bashfully, looking away from you, God he was so adorable when he got flustered.

“No, really,” A hint of seriousness took over your voice, “You know me better than I even know myself at times,” you said, letting out a small laugh at the cheesiness of your words but what you were saying was true.

Joost’s smile widened, his dimples sticking out all the more.

“And…” your voice trailed off as you tried to process your thoughts, “Thank you for always being there for me. You’ve treated me even better than my goddamn boyfriend,” It felt like you were drunk, the words spilling out of you quickly. You had so many things to say to him, all of which you didn’t even know you had hidden in you. “Ex boyfriend,” you corrected yourself in a firm voice.

Joost felt his pulse quicken, fighting the urge to kiss you right then and there.

“He was an asshole anyways,” he said bluntly causing you to laugh.

“Yeah he was,” you sighed, “Maybe I should have dated you instead!”.

You stayed silent, taking in the gravity of your words. Deep down you weren’t joking when you said that. Truthfully, the thought had crossed your mind before but you always discarded it and felt guilty afterwards.

You noticed Joost being abnormally quiet as well and glanced at him, distinguishing a sadness in his eyes.

“What is it?” You asked, your gaze immediately shifting to worried.

Joost swallowed hard, averting his eyes from you. If only you knew.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, anxiously running his hand through his hair. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Are you sure?” You shifted closer to him, your voice soft but layered with concern. He only hummed in response, looking down at his tattoos as his fingers grazed his bare arm.

“Hey,” you said, gently wrapping your arm around him, “You can tell me anything, you know?” You sensed just how tense he was and a wave of guilt overcame you. Why wasn’t he telling you? Was he mad at you for something? He did seem a little off ever since you broke up with Adam but you brushed it off, thinking of it as work stress from preparing his album.

“Joost?” you pressed and caressed his hair. That made him turn to look at you as you realized the increased proximity between you and him, feeling his breath hot against your skin.

Then, Joost took one quick glance at your lips and he leaned in.

You didn’t pull back. Something felt right about this, the way his soft lips touched yours with a kind of passion you’d never experienced before. He pulled your face closer and deepened the kiss as you made a soft sound against his lips.

So many thoughts were racing in your mind. That same feeling overtook you, the one from that night when you first met Joost and had been trying to suppress for so long; he was never just your best friend and only now did you have the courage to admit it to yourself.

Once his lips were apart from yours, the only sound that filled the room was the heavy breathing coming from both of you. You looked at him, your arms lightly wrapped around his neck. He smiled sweetly and you did too as you stared in each other’s eyes like two kids in love.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long,” he muttered, gently running his hands up and down the sides of your stomach, “I love you, Y/n.”

You inhaled deeply, your guilt returning as you thought about how oblivious you had been all this time. How long had he been keeping this to himself?

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. Joost raised an eyebrow, laughing softly.

“You’re saying sorry after I said I love you? Damn.” He said, sounding slightly offended.

“No!” You chuckled. “I’m sorry because I acted like a fool. I shied away from my feelings and I didn’t realize sooner that you felt this way about me and I should have realized sooner and-”

“Alright, alright,” Joost cut you off in his usual reassuring tone. You exhaled a long sigh as he placed both hands on your shoulders to comfort you. “Calm down, lieverd” he smiled. Even now, he was still so willing to make you feel better when he should be upset with you or at the very least, pretend to be it.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you too.” You said, watching as a proud smile grew on Joost’s lips.

“Took you long enough,” he teased.

“Hey!” You slapped him on his arm, he mouthed sorry repeatedly before pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it felt sweeter, more controlled as you both now shared the feeling of contentment in your heart.

You broke the kiss and drew back from him shortly.

“So when are we drinking the beers?” you asked jokingly, your hands tracing to his belt.

Joost smiled, grabbing your waist to bring you closer to him.

“That can wait.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

hey, sorry to bother you, I wanted to ask you if you could do Matt Smith x readerMatt and Reader are friends and colleagues, Reader has been in love with Matt for some time, but being friends she doesn't know what to do, when she hears the news that Matt seems to be dated Emma Laird. but when Reader gets drunk you go to Matt's house angry, at first Matt doesn't understand why Reader is so angry with him, but when Reader confesses everything to him, that he had feelings for you too

Security

It's midnight, and Matt is awoken by a call from his apartment's security regarding a drunk visitor.

Matt Smith x Reader | 500< | cw: gender neutral!reader, rpf, fluff, a bit of crack, typos, etc.

A/N: i havent done rpf in a while it kinda feels weird now /alsfhasfsaf. i changed a bit with the ending, so hope you still like it nonnie! I only used 'I' in this fic, so anyone can read <3. image from pinterest

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

"I hate you," I groan and push the man away.

In reality, the force of the push propels me back rather than the target. Matt grunts, only because he has to reach out and grab my arm. I flail him away.

He lets go only to grab me again because I topple.

"Chris'sakes," he mutters, reeling me in, "how'd you even manage to come 'ere, love?"

I grit my teeth and yank my arm free. Matt's raises his hands up in defeat.

"I hate you," I mumble again.

He shakes his head and leads me into his home, "right." He unlocks his door, "honestly, I'm the one who should be saying that, considering you came to my house during witching hour."

We step inside. I slowly strip myself of my shoes, and my coat, and my socks and my-

"Woah there-" Matt grabs my hand just before I can remove my shirt, "it's still a bit nippy in here. Might want to keep that on."

I huff and pull away from him. He watches as I wobble back into his couch. I slump on the cushions. He places his hands on his hips, "right. You want some w-- no, I'll go get you some water."

The next moment, I'm being hoisted up and seated down.

"Come on then, drink up."

Matt is crouched down in front of me. I turn away when a cup is brought towards me. I groan, "I hate you."

He sighs and places the cup on the coffee table. He sits down next to me and leans back. Arms crossed, he says, "right. You say that but care to explain why?"

I turn to his side and glare, "because I can't like you anymore."

He knits his brows together.

I release a breath. He slightly cringes at the smell of alcohol. I mumble, "... you've got... someone else."

"Someone else?" he says with a chuckle.

I turn to him as he laughs. I mumble, "I saw the articles."

"Have you now?" he says with amusement, "who was it this time?"

I grow angry at his laughter. I mumble again, "I fucking hate you."

He chortles, "what? Why? R'you in love with me?"

My eyes turn to the cup before me.

His laughter dies down. He shifts on his side and lowers his head to look at me, "... bollocks."

I turn to him, feeling a pit form in my chest. I mutter, "I hate you."

His brow quirks. "I know," he sighs out, "best we talk about this in the morning, love."

Matt stands and walks off. He comes back with a pillow and a blanket. He places the pillow beside me and drapes the blanket over my shoulders.

"Get some sleep," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I look up at him.

He brushes his thumb on my neck, "we'll talk about this is the morning, yeah?"

He pulls away and places his hands on his hips.

I curl up into the blanket and lie down. I garble against the pillow, "fuck off."

He sniggers, "I live here, cutie."

[esanalysis]

HiMERU ESY2 Center - Ephemeral Festival Story Summary & Analysis

We've all see the live posts in regards to the new HiMERU center event. Everyone's been talking about it and I want to as well because boy do I have a LOT to talk about in regards to what we know about HiMERU, what we learnt about HiMERU, and all the misinformation that managed to spread around in some places. This one will be pretty long, however I hope this will clear misinformation up and make the story easier to consume.

Posted - September 6th, 2024

Edited - October 25th, 2024

Analysis Word Count - 3,508

Disclaimers and CW for this post are as follows;

- This is both a summary and an analysis of the story. I will somewhat briefly summarize what is happening and will add in my larger breakdowns of specifically HiMERU's actions and feelings here (as well as others if applicable/needed). - Later parts of this analysis will vaguely reference Obbligato and be talked about under the assumption there is at least a vague understanding of what happened during the event's story. If you have not read Obbligato, I highly recommend doing so. You can read the story here. - This will contain discussions and mentions of RPF and adult/minor relationships however in no regards will I be defending this. On top of this, I do not like Himekoha/Kohahime for reasons I do not think I need to get into. - Take some information with a grain of salt. At the time of writing this I am currently going off of live translations & other sources of information as no translations exist at the moment for this story. This may be edited in the future due to this. - Screenshots have been sourced from various live translations and put through Google Translate for clarity reasons and to show what I am talking about being in game. Take the direct translations with some salt because of this. - Usual disclaimers apply - see my pinned post for those. - If you would like to discuss or debate things I have come to the conclusion of, you can submit an ask!

With that in mind. Let's get started.

The opening starts out, put simply with us learning exactly what the "Pastel Bee Brothers" - shortened to "PBB" - is. PBB, in short, is a nickname for Kohaku and HiMERU due to growing popularity in the idol world separate from Rinne and Niki as well as Crazy:B as a whole. Despite this growth, the growth does not stem from anything good. It unfortunately stems from a piece of Real Person Fiction - "RPF" for short - that involves the romantic and sexual pairing of HiMERU and Kohaku that goes by the same name.

Despite this fact, we need to acknowledge two big things when it comes to the existence of RPF here. The first being, this is a real thing to happen. Ensemble Stars is not new to the concept of criticizing things that happen in both idol culture and the industry itself, albeit to varying levels of success. We can very clearly tell that this is what is happening here when we see HiMERU try to shield Kohaku from what it truly is. Kohaku does not understand what exactly the PBB fad stems from, aside from the fact it exists after HiMERU told him about it as seen by the fact that he's shocked by being prompted to prove he's over the age of 18 when looking it up for himself.

Afterwards, HiMERU does not seem to refer to what the PBB truly is despite seemingly knowing and continues to dance around this fact when Kohaku shows his confusion to the explanation HiMERU is reading off of the internet. This implies him trying to attempt to protect Kohaku from what he can in an attempt to be a more responsible adult for him.

We can see this in the few screenshots below.

*Sakuragawa is referring to Kohaku here, its a machine error

The story is not in favor of this existing, as RPF is a real thing that exists and while it is uncomfortable, especially in regards to the fact that this involves a coupling of an adult with a minor, I think it was the best play here. Kohaku and HiMERU have a very complicated relationship with one another although not a bad one. So fans seeing it, not knowing HiMERU's real age that we do as the reader, and everything else *would* realistically result in something like this.

Its something you should be uncomfortable with, and something that is good to be uncomfortable with. But despite this, we need to keep in mind that showing support for this thing is NOT what the goal is here.

From here, we can figure out that the popularity from the PBB has boosted the rest of the Bees' popularity, despite most of the work they're currently getting being related to HiMERU and Kohaku. Rinne only pushes the work the that the Bees get onto HiMERU and Kohaku, continuing to mess around with the other two's source of popularity (in this case, buying a Doujinshi to poke fun at them and also to learn exactly what the PBB is too due to having his socials frozen and being unable to see for himself). This results in the two taking a job where they work with a smaller company to create a show where the two live a simple and domestic life together to keep in line with why PBB is popular and continue to ride the monkey's paw of a trend.

HiMERU does note before production though, that Kohaku reminds him of Kaname. If you ask me, I think this is partially why HiMERU, the one that chose the job the two do, went with this. It doesn't seem very "HiMERU like" to do, but it could be how he himself feels not how the idol persona feels. We know how much HiMERU cares for Kaname, and how highly of a pedestal he places his little brother on so wanting something calm and to be able to properly care for his brother in the hospital doesn't seem like much of a surprise when you think about it and has the decision make sense.

This is only emphasized by his thought after about how he asks himself if this was what he wanted with Kaname, the ability to raise him better and be a better older brother after the Reimei incident during Obbligato.

After a while of the small show airing and gaining popularity, Kohaku doesn't understand the popularity still. Possibly even less due to how simple the show is when its something he simply doesn't like. On top of this fact, HiMERU has been acting slightly weird in Kohaku's eyes, possibly due to HiMERU's reasoning for doing the show. Niki does sympathize with Kohaku's criticisms with the show but despite this, he can't really find himself arguing with success.

Niki ends up criticizing things a bit more though despite this, making comparisons to what he knows better. He compares the show and fans to chefs and their customers, talking about how doing the same thing can be boring and stifling even if its what the people want. HiMERU seems to be ignoring this or not quite taking it to heart like he should. Possibly due to him not realizing he's projecting his own wants onto Kohaku? Though, that's just a guess and nothing else.

At the same time, Rinne turns out to have uploaded a video himself of his plans to sabotage the show that end up failing due to Rinne getting stuck in a box in a storage room under heavy furniture. The other three end up having to get him out of the box in the storage room after they find the video. However, I want to focus on Rinne's plans to sabotage the show.

Of course this could be chalked up the Rinne wanting to sabotage the popularity not focused on him, after all it's what he claims to be doing. Yet, I can't help but feel like his intentions are different. We know that Rinne cares a lot about the people in his life, even if he refuses to properly show it when not through his persona (though, this is an analysis for another day). Rinne bought the Doujinshi at the start of the story as a means to figure out what exactly the PBB was and why it was so popular. Combining the two facts, he was probably able to piece two and two together and want to sabotage what the PBB are doing and, in turn, their popularity. Likely for the safety of Kohaku much like HiMERU trying to shield him from what exactly PBB is. A lot of who Rinne is, is something you have to read between the lines for or else you also become someone fooled by Rinne's persona much like the other people of ES - however that isn't the focus right now.

After getting Rinne out of the box in storage, we timeskip a few weeks to one of Rinne's plans to sabotage the show. Its a roughly put together show created after annoying Ibara enough. The short of this being a search for something called the "Nagigon" which is a large creature of some sort that just so happens to be played by Nagisa himself.

It's important to note that Kohaku does have more fun with this compared to the more formal show he's working on with HiMERU. Filming for the show doesn't go very far however, due to the location of the shooting being leaked and getting swarmed with fans protesting that this place isn't safe for them to record at. This whole thing only manages to back up Rinne's worries for Kohaku and HiMERU, with them giving into the demands of the fans above everything else including their safety. This only backs up my thoughts on why Rinne is trying to sabotage the show, but I digress.

After this, HiMERU and Kohaku go back to filming the domestic show they were before. Kohaku's complaints only get worse from here, not only about the show's production but also being and idol as a whole. Despite this fact, HiMERU also does not like where the PBB has led them and the rest of Crazy:B telling Kohaku to accept it like he has.

Kohaku, once again, points out that this behavior is weird. HiMERU does try to listen to the fans more compared to the rest of the Bees, especially Rinne. Likely due to the fact that he doesn't 100% know what Kaname himself would do and also due to how HiMERU created the idol persona in the past. But at the same time, this is also likely due to nothing but popularity. HiMERU's goal as we know it is to keep the name "HiMERU" in the spotlight for when Kaname is healthy again and able to take the name back for himself. The sheer popularity that the PBB has is only helping his end goal, which is likely why HiMERU is acting weird. Normally, the popularity of himself follows the rest of Crazy:B but now its surged outside of the fact in a way he himself can control. It falls back on the concept of how this popularity is nothing but a monkey's paw. It's something neither of them truly like, more than likely due to the cause of it all on top of where it ended up getting them.

HiMERU is handling the pressure and stress of the popularity better than Kohaku though, as it ends up with him passing out and going to the hospital. Consequently the same one that Kaname is staying at.

At the hospital, Rinne and Niki end up staying with Kohaku as he wakes up while HiMERU is off with Kaname.

From this point on, things are going to get more wordy as the later half of the story contains more of what I want to talk about.

HiMERU notes that there's more merch around Kaname since the last time he was here, as well as the reveal that Kaname is more awake than before. He hasn't perfectly healed, and will likely be bedridden for a long time to come but he has been having a lot of improvement. The biggest of which being, that he is awake at times and seems to be requesting merch of his brother.

The full card cg shows pieces of merch in his room, the ones we can clearly make out being the Feature Scout 1 outfit poster, a poster of the Trip Album cover, and a plush of HiMERU in his Crazy:B uniform.

Kaname is far from healed, with this merch not of "HiMERU" but of his brother, being comfort for him and his bouts of incoherency. Kaname and HiMERU have both relied on each other in a way. Their relationship being nothing but complicated due to how they met, discovering each other's existence and everything that happened during the events of Obbligato.

Due to all of this, Kaname seemingly being fine with HiMERU doing what he's doing while also being unable to vocalize it properly due to his current state makes sense. We don't know the specifics of Kaname's condition, leaving us to unfortunately have to fill in the gaps so most of this is a mix between speculation and an understanding of both Tojou's character.

The name HiMERU was something that felt stifling to Kaname, it was a fact he mentioned to Tatsumi. This was something HiMERU didn't know himself until the events of ESY1. HiMERU was operating under the assumptions he himself had made and still cannot back down from. If anything, this fact proves that the brothers truly don't know each other that well. They never grew up together, for one reason or another (I'll get into that later), and as such have put each other up higher than they should be. They have never seen each other's faults properly.

This is being reflected in the merch that now surrounds Kaname. Despite the name never being his, and probably understanding that it will never be his. He's okay with this. A lot of people have been under the assumption that he wouldn't like what HiMERU is doing, but that's just wrong. If anything it could be freeing for Kaname, especially after the incident. We don't know much about him now after everything, because people can change and be affected by trauma like this in different ways. But it's probably safe to assume not much has changed by his actions.

He wants the comfort of his brother, and seeing him surrounded by not only HiMERU merchandise, but also PBB items likely brings him some of that comfort when he's awake and his brother isn't there.

And at the same time, when HiMERU is visiting Kaname, he seeks out the comfort of his younger brother. We truly see how conflicted he feels during this part, asking Kaname if this is what he truly would've wanted for the idol name he now has. He asks both Kaname, and mostly himself, if this is what Kaname wants and if he is truly crafting a place for him to be when he recovers. Only backing up the idea that the two don't truly know each other but only want the best for each other.

Although, this scene can't stay for too long. HiMERU unfortunately cannot entirely vanish to stay with Kaname as much as he'd like to do so. Rinne ends up catching him in the lounge leading the two to have an interesting talk. Rinne quizzes HiMERU on where he was and why his face looks sad, eventually revealing he knows about HiMERU's secret. It's something that could've been inferred from various other stories if you ask me, but seeing it properly spelt out is interesting. On top of this, Rinne also points out HiMERU is currently a year older than his persona, comparing his age to Niki which would currently make him 19. HiMERU doesn't shoot this down or acknowledge it being correct, giving nothing but a vague response about how faking your age by a year or so is more common than one would expect. While true - it is important to note that Rinne may be right due to HiMERU's avoidance of the topic.

*translation is a little broken - however it still shows Rinne saying "one year older" in reference to HiMERU

I'd argue this makes perfect sense. During the events of Obbligato, he would be about 17 or so, meaning he's still essentially a kid during this. In a way, it can make his actions make more sense when looking at it from this angle. However, I plan to dedicate an analysis to HiMERU's age sometime soon as I would like to talk about it separately and go more in depth about Obbligato and how this doesn't retcon what we know already but that isn't the focus currently.

Regardless, HiMERU ends up getting defensive and speaking in first person. Another something I deem important of note. After Rinne coming forward with the fact he knows his secret, even calling Kaname "Kannamecchi" as a nickname, HiMERU has nothing to hide. He speaks in third person to preserve his secret and be what HiMERU is supposed to be, not who HiMERU truly is. Without that secret, he's allowed to be himself. He's speaking for himself here, how he claims to not trust Rinne himself and threatens to harm him should he hurt Kaname or drag him into any sort of mess. Rinne however, takes this moment to try to drill into HiMERU that the PBB isn't good and how him being "HiMERU" isn't good either and making him act strange.

Another moment that shows how much Rinne cares so much about those around him despite his persona. Another thing I plan on talking about at some point.

HiMERU ends up calming down and asking about how Kohaku is doing, Rinne ends up turning this around on him and continues to push the idea that "HiMERU" is causing problems here and brings up how Kohaku was wrapped up in "HiMERU's" mess. This manages to be enough to get HiMERU to reflect a bit more, realizing that this all started from Kaname. The popularity was not only good for the idol name, but also seemed to be making Kaname happy with the growing merch in his hospital room. HiMERU was always skeptical about the trend, knowing about it in full and how odd it was in multiply ways. During this reflection, Kohaku walks up to the two of them. Both Kohaku and Niki were called to the lounge by Rinne, allowing them to hear at least part of the conversation the two were having including parts of HiMERU's self reflection and bits about Kaname.

This prompts the two of them to properly talk out everything going on. Neither of them are happy and only one was willing to admit it previously - HiMERU even taking a moment to remind himself and truly realize that Kohaku wasn't happy. Its a moment of selfishness we rarely see from HiMERU and one he doesn't seem to realize exists because he kept pushing the show "for the fans" when really he was also being a tad selfish with his own wants by imagining Kohaku as Kaname. Kohaku continues to talk about how he wants to show himself off more, be his own idol, instead of just listening to what the fans want like HiMERU seemingly wants to do. Niki only backs up Kohaku, expressing himself freely in the process to emphasize that people need to mix up what they're doing while also taking others into consideration. This also manages to click something in place for HiMERU, with him realizing that Kaname probably cared less about seeing the PBB and more about seeing his brother in any capacity.

This realization allows him to act more like himself again, or at least how people see him. Kohaku even feeling better after talking for a few. The two end up agreeing to put an end to the show going on and resume activity as Crazy:B as they always have, turning down Rinne's plans to go out with a bang as he normally would.

Despite this though, when Kohaku and HiMERU plan to do a live together at a festival and announce the end of doing things as a duo and go back to doing things with the rest of their unit, Rinne still manages to crash the party. Rinne, dragging Niki into his mess as usual, ends up turning it into a Crazy:B live since he didn't want just HiMERU and Kohaku enjoying the festival. Many fans end up speculating from this that Rinne forced Kohaku and HiMERU to halt PBB activity but they try to ignore that. Kohaku admits he enjoys Crazy:B for what it is, despite how hectic it can be with Rinne as a leader. HiMERU himself even recognizing that deep down this is what he was expecting, and in turn enjoying it.

After everything, Kohaku and HiMERU end up going back to finish shooting the little show with Nagisa and Rinne, enjoying that more than they did recording things as the PBB. Nagisa was even enjoying it himself. HiMERU truly came out from behind the persona he built up for Kaname more by the end of this story, as he continues to do so bit by bit with each story we see him in. The others even recognize this, Kohaku especially with calling out how HiMERU did see him as a little brother.

To summarize my thoughts and add a few notes that I couldn't add in elsewhere, I think the story is very good and a solid enough commentary on how popularity as an idol can come from varying places both good and bad (comparative to other ES stories at least) and how popularity itself is a powerful thing for better or for worse. Its not perfect by any means, much like any other Ensemble Stars story, but its a lot better than I think people give it credit for. We learnt more about HiMERU than we knew previously and a handful of assumptions I've seen some people have were confirmed - myself included. It's also interesting to see HiMERU be more selfish with his wants, even if he doesn't entirely realize it.

I hope we one day see HiMERU shine through more past his few moments of speaking in first person. I would like to see his real personality outshine the idol he portrays himself as. The bits we do see in the story feel powerful to me since his emotions get too strong in regards to Kaname that he lets his guard down, especially when people know his secret. Things likely won't be changing anytime soon, but improvement is still improvement and I want to see more of that.

Regardless, thank you for making to the end of this lengthy analysis. I hope you enjoyed reading it and I hope this story can now be understood better.

a/n

- I plan on making edits to this in the future when I have written the analysis on both HiMERU's age and how Rinne shows how much he cares about people, attaching the analysis to the points needed so people can further see me prove the points I would like to as the focus is on this story specifically and I would like some place separate to talk about these specific things rather than the story as a whole. - If anything needs clarification, I messed up information or you would like me to talk about something in more detail, do not hesitate to send an ask so I can talk about it or make fixes to the post as needed. I would like for this to be accurate as possible.

Edit Log

October 25th, 2024 - Edited a mistake where "Pastel Bee Brothers" was put as "Pastel Bee Boys"

[burning-sol]

Because I'm a loser I'm going over this piece of controversy because if it catches on here I will lose my mind. This controversy surrounds @ jinxontherocks and Charlie Slimecicle. All the following screenshots were taken the same day as typing, and I made this post with what may be incomplete information. DO NOT HARASS ANYONE INVOLVED!! Regardless of who you're contacting, regardless of your intentions, DON'T contact anyone shown here.. ANYONE!!

Jinx's Instagram lists their pronouns as she/they/he, please don't misgender her: https://www.instagram.com/jinxultraviolet

CW this shit is about RPF and MCYT NSFW (pornographic content of Minecraft Youtubers' characters and they themselves), there are screenshots showing censored posts of it and there is a brief mention of rape amongst them.

The tweet that started off my little investigation and is causing outrage..

https://twitter.com/shubluvr/status/1799909241404129604

Something I noticed as I was adding alt txt.. I don't know anything about Jinx or how she assigns "Close Friends" on his Instagram, but basically users can assign someone as a "Close Friend" and you can then post stories only ppl within that group can see. If Jinx is the kind of person who hands out this status to anyone they know, this isn't a big deal, but if this person was close to Jinx I want you to keep in mind the possibility that this is potentially a violation of Jinx's boundaries. If this person knew Jinx closely, they could have talked to her in private, but instead they chose to make this a public affair. At best this could have been something the anonymous person genuinely thought was the moral thing to do, or this person could at worst be straight up an emotionally abusive person who shared these photos as a way to egg on Jinx's "downfall" or something similar. Again, this is only POTENTIALLY, but you need to be critical of who is sourcing your information and what their intentions are.

So the screenshots do prove Jinx knows Charlie and has been interacting with him and maybe (MAYBE) even dating him.. Which!! I just wanna clarify before you ask, I searched this up, Charlie and Grace broke up. Jinx and Charlie are both in their early to mid twenties. Aside from this controversy, there is really nothing to say abt them that isn't just, "mind your own business".

https://twitter.com/insidetheslime/status/1770617006364262832

So why is this an issue? What's with the controversy? Let's check out that first quote tweet.

https://twitter.com/shubluvr/status/1793371199449547014

The claim is that Jinx, possibly, willingly engaged with someone who posted MCYT porn. Which the user states, "it wasn't my intention to present the examples of what that person posted as if u liked them" but then proceeds to reiterate again that "u have to go out of ur way to find an acc like that." so which is it? That's a rhetorical question, we know which it is because if it was the former people wouldn't be so mad. But at least we know where these initial claims came from so let me scroll back and see what this user had initially posted as proof.

Here's the thread.

https://twitter.com/shubluvr/status/1790861709218828459

The archive page linked: https://archive.md/g8xOX

So yes, this does prove Jinx followed an account that posted NSFW of Charlie (RPF) and Charlie's characters (MCYT). However, just following someone isn't necessarily proof you've seen the full extent of their content. So let's finally circle back around to Jinx's tweet in response to this (something that was quote tweeted earlier) and discuss why I have such an issue with this entire controversy. Time to crack open the point of this entire post.

https://twitter.com/jinxontherocks/status/1793353847437701538

Hi everyone, apologises for taking a few days to address this as I've been logged off of twitter for my own mental health and due to the constant harassment and death threats that I have been receiving. Recently, there was a thread posted on me showing how I was following someone who created NSFW art of some content creators, specifically Charlie who I'm friends with. I absolutely condemn this kind of boundary-breaking NSFW art of content creators, and would never willingly follow or interact with an account that I knew created art like this. I am only semi-active on Twitter, especially on my 18+ account, and I was shocked and upset to discover I was following an account like this at the same time everyone else did. Because this account is now deactivated, I'm not sure what I originally followed them for, but it was likely COD or puppy girl art. I've privated my NSFW account as well because I'm not comfortable with a bunch of people who are likely minors in the community scrolling through it. Because people are making some gross assumptions as well I want to clarify that I met Charlie IRL, and had no idea who he or his friends were at all or as content creators before meeting them. We met naturally, became friends, and still are. Throughout this past week I've received an insane amount of harassment and threats, and have seen tons of misinformation spread about me and the whole situation so I definitely felt a need to clarify everything. I knew essentially nothing at all abt this acc or any of their callouts or whatnot, that just wasn't the sphere of cc I was in at any point, and while I post semi frequently on here, I'm not very interactive with content beyond my mutuals. Likely gonna retcon that going forward and look more into who I'm following before I do. Also pointing out that a lot of the sc's included in this thread or others are being presented as or shown as if they were from my likes? They were not, straight up not. Just gonna clear that up now. Lastly, please do not harass the creator of the thread or anyone else involved in this situation please. Please be kind y'all, and good day!

Quick note, if behind the scenes Jinx had immediately gotten harassment and death threats after the conception of that thread, THAT'S why Jinx was suddenly "stalking" leaktwt. Like of course Jinx is going to find the source of a bunch of people who are telling her he sucks and (possibly) telling him to kill themselves. Someone becoming conscious of their own controversy very quickly after it's conception isn't an abnormal thing.

So basically, I felt like I was going bananas because I'm going through replies trying to see if there's more evidence but there's nothing really condemning Jinx that strongly. You have evidence they followed someone who posts RPF NSFW, SHE confirmed she'd followed the acc that posted RPF NSFW.. But do they condone it? Did he see it? WHERE is your evidence?? WHY are you all so convinced she condones RPF NSFW? Well I stumbled across this brilliant series of screenshots someone added that's making me lose my marbles.

https://twitter.com/4ngelcicle/status/1793729694577332396

artist: im genuinely baffled if anyone believes rhis like i cannot emphasize how much i only posted on that acc to post porn 😭 other user: she only followed you this april right? like after she meet charlie? artist: yess like only a few days to a week before the thread was made? im so confused how she couldve found me in the first place let alone follow me because ,, i only post abt charie my bio is nsfwrpf and my pfp was bsd and banner was fnaf? nothing to warrant her following me?

artist: uhmmm she followed me few days to a week before the first thread was made? i dont remember but i got the notification when she followed me on her very public acc? i didnt realize it was jinx tho so i just let her follow me? when i stalked her acc she just seemed like a normal nsfw acc without any nsfwrpf even in her likes. thats it in regards to interacting with me but its also strange how she even found me in the first place? my account is sightly inactive so it wasnt like i was tweeting something funny or even spamming the tl to regard being followed? anytime i posted on the public acc it was about porn because thats what the account is for 😭 so idek how she found my acc in the firstplace cuz i also censor everything?? but thats all i know xP artist: u already know most of it but yk

artist: omg ugh artist: literally the only things i posted on that acc ever was cc nsfw artist: if it was unrelated i would post it on my priv

My jaw DROPPED when I saw this. I wanna hone in on this one tidbit that you may have glossed over, "when i stalked her acc she just seemed like a normal nsfw acc without any nsfwrpf even in her likes. thats it in regards to interacting with me".. So that's it. THAT'S IT. Even the artist in question only has proof he followed them, not that there was any tangible interactions to prove she saw the RPF content. And also, "my bio is nsfwrpf and my pfp was bsd and banner was fnaf? nothing to warrant her following me?" So it is 100% possible that he had only seen the artist's pfp, banner, the words "RPF" but not the problematic content in question.. And here's a relevant reply from Jinx on the fact the artist had RPF in their bio-

https://twitter.com/jinxontherocks/status/1793370260885918108

So we actually need to talk about how exactly social media works, because for some reason nobody is bringing this up despite USING Twitter and KNOWING what Twitter feeds look like.

If you have ever been on a Twitter For You page (I'm checking mine now) you will know that the feed isn't strictly curated based on your following, Twitter has an algorithm that'll put posts on your feed based on different factors. When I go to mine, my feed isn't strictly people I follow (in fact it's barely people I follow), it's not chronological, and I don't know if this is still a feature but I distinctly remember times where I got shown posts that were LIKED by someone or RETWEETED by someone- So again, your feed can show you a lot of varying things that you're either only somewhat adjacent to or something that's not anything you're remotely interested in. So basically, you cannot know exactly what someone's feed looks like unless a person hand you their phone and you scroll through it. You can make ESTIMATES of what you thing someone's feed will look like, but, again, you can only know exactly what someone's feed looks like if you're able to scroll through it.

This is to say that it's 100% possible at some point Jinx came across a post from the account on their feed, didn't see it anything RPF related in the post or on their immediate page (assuming they clicked on the profile because you can follow people without going to their profile), and followed them. And even if they posted RPF the rest of the time, there is no way to know what % of Jinx's feed it would have been present on.. Which! Btw, is also influenced by if Jinx even frequents the For You page at ALL.. Which, Jinx claims he's not super active on Twitter, so that lines up perfectly with her explanation.

(And before you say something about it, we don't have access to the NSFW account because it got deactivated, but I personally doubt that the user literally only posted NSFW of RPF and MCYT. Most NSFW accs I've seen in my time always have even the slightest amount of variety.. So it's not to say it's not possible, but I think the artists' words are likely an exaggeration. That's the assumption this point is functioning under.)

Plus, remember what I mentioned about people liking or retweeting posts? It's kind of a whole point of social media that posts spread in chains, and it's 100% possible for posts from obscure or problematic people to reach normal people in the right circumstances. Again, this is just.. This is just how Twitter works?? How social media works?? And I feel like I'm insane sitting here typing out how posts actually end up on your feeds and reminding people what an algorithm is and that some people just AREN'T as online as you.

And I'm not saying all this to say that I am 100% sure that Jinx is innocent because I don't KNOW, and that's the POINT. You can't KNOW what Jinx has seen and what she hasn't unless you have proof of him interacting DIRECTLY with something.. And follows don't count because I know PLENTY of people (including myself at times) who don't vet the people they follow, and follow people from a post they've seen on their feed instead of their profile. The artist THEMSELF said, as I will highlight again, "when i stalked her acc she just seemed like a normal nsfw acc without any nsfwrpf even in her likes. thats it in regards to interacting with me"..

All the evidence I've seen as of typing this is heresay, and unless all these people can present some substantial evidence that actually SAYS what they WANT it to say, I'm going to believe that Jinx made an honest mistake.

There's probably some other arguments I could make to prove my point, but I've been so thorough with everything I've been typing for literal hours just covering this. So I just wanna get at something that REALLY pisses me off about Twitter and I don't want to fucking see.

STOP calling people complicit in someone else's behaviour just because they're close to them. You are very potentially blaming VICTIMS THEMSELVES and I'm so fucking done with this.

Some people are saying Charlie is condoning this behaviour and it is DISGUSTING because can you actually take a step back and think about what you're saying?? Maybe Charlie does know, maybe he's into some freak shit, IDK, but I think it's WAY more likely Charlie didn't. The chances are far more likely that, if the allegations here are true, Charlie's boundaries were VIOLATED and HE'S the victim here. Though we can't really know because (I can't stress it enough) we don't KNOW what's happened behind the scenes. Charlie liked the tweet jinx made..

Which could mean several things. Maybe! The allegations aren't true, and Charlie is showing support for her. Maybe! The allegations were true, but they've quietly resolved the situation behind the scenes. Maybe! The allegations were true, and Jinx LIED to Charlie so he believes her.

(And yeah, I am implying these allegations could be true and I STILL think Jinx should be given some leniency based on if they've changed their mind on the morality of that content and have apologised in private to Charlie.. Because life is weird and people are weird and people change. Like IDK, again, maybe Charlie into that freak shit. What are you gonna do if a guy likes NSFW being drawn of himself? Complain to HIM about what his boundaries should be?)

You don't KNOW, you CAN'T know. I will state this over and OVER, YOU DON'T KNOW. Don't harass Jinx over things you don't know are true. If you don't like him after hearing these allegations? You're allowed to! It's fine! Block them and move on. But DON'T pretend that's the same as having evidence, because from what I've seen, you don't.

And I got very heated in that last bit so I just wanna say, I've spent all my time (again, these past few hours) writing this post. I don't know if Tumblr knows about this or is already talking about this, but this is my thorough take on the situation. I just hope it clears up some things because I would really fucking hate if it caught on and everyone starts spread (potential) misinformation and ruining someone's life for literally no reason.

[clairesjointshurt]

danny wagner smut

blurby also feel free to request

minors:GET THE FUCK OUT

cw: this is a rpf so if you don't like them then just leave me alone and get off these tags

he is a hard-core munch and would fuck you with his tongue

would beg for you to sit on his face if he ever made you mad and would pull you down onto him just so he can go deeper

Danny would have you wear his necklaces while he fucks you so he knows you're his

I feel like he'd be more into positions where he can see your face and stomach while he fucks you so he can watch the muscles in your stomach contract and see your face scrunch and eyes water

he's a hoe for eye contact, if he's eating your pussy and you look down he's gonna kiss your clit and wink at you

if you suck is dick he'd be staring at you so he can burn the image into his brain to save for later if you look up at him while you deep throat him he might bust

he's loud. he might be one of the quietest in the band but in bed he steals the show. he's either groaning or whining or maybe even whimpering in your ear. he'd talk you through it for sure. ask you how you're doing and then turn it into praise or tease you

hard core switch

he would absolutely beg you to ride his dick and cuff him up but would also be fine tying you up and calling you a slut

I might be projecting here but he would spit In your mouth either in a degrading way or with a smile

praise he'd say:

princess, sugar, gorgeous, honey, angel

you're doing so good

love that

gimme more

please

or degrading:

you like that? of coarse you do.

fucking slut

oh you can't take it huh?

would be more teasing than degrading

I fuck you so good huh?

want you do fill you up don't you?

[sixohsixoheightfourtwo]

#does a lot of collaborations #with like sports people #and has like a chemistry with every guest he brings on #and probably a.. #size kink #but i never said that (via @bauxitt)

scream ing. never thought my cooped up lockdown mentality wld lead to this.. listen. you're so so right about EVERYTHING i gotta get back here i gotta recapture this feeling.

I need someone to obsess over this norwegian climber with me??

he's a retired professional and makes youtube vidoes (has 1 840 000 subs) in english where he climbs and tries challenges and different sports, really typical quiet norwegian and very humble, sweet guy. Often regarded as Norway's best climber. Atp I'm very alone with no fandom to speak of

And just gonna mention @sixohsixoheightfourtwo ... bc your 3-year-old post is giving me life

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 14

Prompt: rpf gemtho with gem running into him by chance and recognizing his voice (bumbing into him or smth? so he hasn't seen her) v romcom like

cw: rpf

Gem stops just after mile three of her run, panting, hands on her hips. She feels good — breathing has been easy, the ground gentle underfoot from an overnight rain — and her pace has stayed steady.

She walks along the forest path, surrounded by nothing but trees and birds she can just about hear above the music in her earbuds. She draws on her water and lets it work to cool her back down as she meanders, heading to the lookout point where she typically turns around.

She likes this place. It’s a well-kept secret, and at this time of day, it’s often only her and a few retirees going for their daily stroll.

Best of all, at the lookout, there’s a bench she usually uses to help stretch out the rest of her muscles as she stares out beyond the cliffs to where the sky and ocean meet. It’s the best form of therapy she’s found yet.

But today, as she breaks through the treeline, she realizes she’s not alone. There’s a man already sitting on the seat.

She pauses her music, hesitating just long enough for him to apparently notice she’s there, because he turns to look over his shoulder.

There’s nothing remarkable about him — a slender face, blue eyes, brown hair mostly hidden beneath a baseball cap branded with a logo she doesn’t recognize. He offers a polite smile, that she returns, and gestures vaguely at the seat beside him in a clear invitation.

“I’m good,” she promises and he shrugs as though to say suit yourself.

When he looks back toward the ocean, Gem watches him, taking in the straight line of his nose, the uneven stubble along his jaw, like he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days.

He doesn’t try to talk to her again and it’s easy enough to ignore him as Gem takes another drink of water and fixes the hair that’s slipped out of her ponytail.

Slowly, she inhales, letting the sea air fill her lungs, the distant sound of waves hitting the cliffs still soothing even after all this time, this many visits.

She folds at the waist, reaching down for her ankles and letting her muscles stretch now that they’re warm. It feels good — like the run back to her car will be enough to keep her stress at bay for a few sweet hours.

She hangs there for a count of thirty and then slowly pulls herself back upright. The man’s watching her, though he glances away when she notices, and she wonders if he’s been staring the whole time.

She stares at the side of his head for a long moment, knowing he’ll sense it, wanting him to feel awkward and ashamed. She watches him swallow, watches him bring a hand up to scratch at his stubble, and she finally gives in and turns back toward the forest.

There’s no point lingering just to be ogled.

She pulls up her phone to restart her music, ready to disappear into the trees again.

“Gem,” someone says and she freezes, thumb still hovering over the play button.

When she glances back over her shoulder, the man at the bench is standing, attention focused on her.

“Hey, Gem,” he says in a voice so familiar it makes her feel weak.

She blinks, and then blinks again, half wondering if she’s somehow dreaming, but the man moves closer, smiling like he doesn’t mean any harm.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he says and Gem can’t figure out why Etho’s voice is coming out of him.

She takes a shaky breath and tucks her phone into her pocket. “Etho?”

“Hey, Gem,” he repeats and her thoughts spin without getting traction for a long moment before it finally clicks.

“Holy shit,” she says, and she’s moving before she realizes.

She launches herself at him and he makes a noise of surprise, but still catches her around the waist with one arm, his other hand grabbing at her thigh as she winds her legs around his middle. He’s taller than she expects and he holds her as though she weighs nothing.

“Etho,” she whispers, her cap slipping off as she presses her face into his throat. She doesn’t care — why would she when she has Etho right there. “You said it was too far to travel.”

“You kept sending me pictures of this place,” he murmurs into her hair. “I had to see it for myself.”

It feels like Gem’s heart might beat its way straight out of her chest as she clings to him, and she finds herself pulling back just to stare down at him.

He’s real and he’s with her.

She reaches up, cupping his face with her hands before she leans in and kisses him.

His grip on her briefly tightens and he lets out a noise of surprise, like he somehow didn’t expect that showing up like this would elicit this kind of response from Gem.

But his mouth opens under hers and she hums happily.

“Thank you,” she murmurs between frantic kisses, and Etho holds her tightly, returning every single one as though he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

[fandomtrumpshate]

Unlisted Fandom Challenge

Two days ago, at our last Unlisted Fandom Challenge update, we had a 3-way tie for first. Today? One of those fandoms has taken the lead AND a new fandom that hadn't had even a single signup before has jumped all the way into a 4-way tie for second. Your fandom could do the same, in the hours still left before signups close!

At present, our leaderboard looks like this:

7 Danny Phantom

5 Carmen Sandiego (2019) 5 For All Mankind 5 Tortall 5 Yu Yu Hakusho

4 Ace Attorney 4 Alan Wake/Remedyverse 4 Formula 1 RPF 4 Ted Lasso 4 The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison 4 The Stanley Parable

3 Greek Mythology/Religion 3 Buffyverse 3 Bungo Stray Dogs 3 Call of Duty 3 Detective Conan 3 Dragon Ball 3 HBO War 3 Kingdom Hearts 3 Persona Series: 3-5 3 Professional Wrestling 3 Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb 3 Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab 3 The Mummy films 1999-2008 3 Undertale

Given the way Carmen Sandiego came from *nowhere* to tie for 2nd place, a single signup really can shake things up! And for the next few hours, signups are STILL OPEN! Do the thing!

The rest of our unlisted write-in fandoms under the cut for length -

2 Ghosts (TV) 2 Black Sails 2 Cosmere 2 CSI 2 Cyberpunk 2077 2 Dead Friend Forever 2 Death Stranding 2 Dice Punks (podcast) 2 Dimension 20 2 Donten ni Warau / Laughing Under the Clouds 2 Dracula 2 Dune 2 Firefly 2 Glee 2 Guardian/Zhen Hun 2 Hermitcraft/The Life Series SMP 2 Imperial Radch Series 2 Inception 2 JoJo's Bizarre Adventure 2 Mob Psycho 100 2 Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury 2 Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint 2 Ordem Paranormal Quarentena 2 QSMP / Quackity SMP 2 Riverdale 2 Saw 2 Slow Horses (TV Show) 2 South Park 2 Stormlight Archive 2 The Bear (TV) 2 The Empyrean - Rebecca Yarros 2 The Folk of the Air (Holly Black) 2 The Radiant Emperor Series 2 Venture Bros 2 Voltron 2 Wolf Pack 1 1670 1 A Court of Fey & Flowers 1 a league of their own (TV series) 1 A Plague Tale (Videogame Series) 1 American Gods 1 Among Us 1 Bandom RPF (Bad Omens) 1 Bandom RPF (Lorna Shore) 1 Bandom RPF (Motionless In White) 1 Beastars 1 Bendy (and The Ink Machine/Dark Revival) 1 Horror 1 Bioshock 1&2 1 Blue Beetle 1 Blue Eye Samurai 1 Books of the Raksura 1 Boondock Saints 1 Breakfast With Scot 1 Bunny - Mona Awad 1 Buzzfeed Unsolved/Watcher Entertainment RPF 1 Cabin Pressure 1 Cats the musical 1 Charlie's Angels (2019) 1 Cherry Magic 1 Chronicles of Narnia 1 Cobra Kai 1 Coffee Talk (Video Game) 1 Criminal Minds 1 Death Note 1 Devil May Cry 1 Dexter 1 Digimon 1 Discworld - Terry Pratchett 1 Disney Theatrical Animated Universe 1 Divergent 1 DMBJ (Grave Robber's Chronicles) - Xu Lei 1 Dream SMP 1 Dungeons and Daddies (podcast) 1 Endeavour/Morseverse/Inspector Morse (ITV/Dexter) 1 Ensemble Stars!! 1 Fallout Video Game (Bethesda) 1 Falsettos 1 Fargo FX 1 Farscape 1 Fire Emblem (4-10, 13, 14, 16) 1 Five Nights at Freddy's 1 Friends at the Table 1 Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid 1 Grantchester 1 Green Creek 1 Grey's Anatomy 1 Grimm 1 Gundam (see below for details) 1 Hatchetfield 1 Hawaii 5.0 1 Hello From The Hallowoods 1 High School Musical 1 Higurashi no Naku Koro ni 1 Hollow Knight 1 Honkai Star Rail 1 Horizon Zero Dawn 1 Infinity Train 1 IT (Movies - Muschietti) 1 Jeff Satur - music videos 1 Julie and the Phantoms 1 Kushiel's Legacy 1 Law and Order 1 Legend of the Galactic Heroes 1 Live Free or Die Hard (Die Hard 4) 1 London Spy 1 Lovecraft Mythos 1 Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic 1 Magnificent Seven 1 Mary Grant Bruce's Billabong series 1 Mrs. Davis 1 My Little Pony 1 Nancy Drew (CW Series) 1 Narcos (TV) 1 Nine Worlds Series - Victoria Goddard 1 NU: Carnival 1 Omori 1 One Direction 1 Orphan Black 1 Outlast 1 Paranatural 1 Phantomarine 1 Re-Animator 1 Resident Evil/Biohazard 1 Sex Education (TV) 1 She-Ra and the Princesses of Power 1 Simon Snow Series 1 Skins (UK) 1 Slam Dunk 1 Starry Musical 1 Succession 1 Sunless Sea 1 Super Sentai 1 Sweeney Todd 1 Team Starkid 1 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1 The Adventure Zone: Balance 1 The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension 1 The Adventures of Tintin 1 The Artful Dodger 1 The Good Place 1 The Greenhollow Series - Emily Tesh 1 The Hollows - Kim Harrison 1 The Last Kingdom 1 The Left-Handed Booksellers of London - Garth Nix 1 The Lunar Chronicles 1 The Mechanisms 1 The Pairing (Casey McQuiston) 1 The Saint of Steel 1 The Shadow Campaigns - Django Wexler 1 The Terror (TV 2018) 1 Three of Hearts 1 Tin Can Bros 1 Tower of God 1 True Detective 1 Twilight 1 Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold 1 Wayfarers (Becky Chambers) 1 Weak Hero Class 1 1 Westworld (TV) 1 Yellowjackets 1 Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter two: ROOT of the PROBLEM

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,609

CW: filler, exposition, nothing really happens in this chapter

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

NICHOLAS

All was quiet, or as quiet as an April early morning could be, when Nicholas pulled into the gravel driveway. Of course, he expected nothing less. He’d learned pretty early on that no noise in the woods meant nothing good.

He got out of his car, took a deep breath before bracing himself, and then reached out with his senses to feel if there was still anything lurking beyond the treeline that surrounded Taylor’s house. Normally he could sense if something passed through or lingered long enough to leave an imprint. But despite what Taylor had told him over the phone, he couldn't find anything unusual.

When he trudged through the front door, he was surprised to see a mass of off-white fur on the living room floor. When he approached, the mass moved. Nick looked up at him briefly from his position of lying in front of the couch, before turning his snout towards the cocooned form of Taylor. The only part of them visible was their arm, buried in the fur on Nick's back.

It might not seem like such an odd thing to most people, despite the fact that a wolf-dog the size of a horse was starting to snore in the middle of the living room, but last summer, Nick had almost killed Taylor before Noah and Nicholas had intervened. That was the moment when Taylor found out that the woods surrounding their house were full of dark creatures and ancient powers. Nicholas had tried to soothe things over as best as he could.

I'm home, Nicholas projected out to Noah.

ABOUT TIME.

Nicholas rolled his eyes at Noah's annoyed tone. “Alright, Folio. I got it from here,” he said, patting the large Grim between his ears. He then flicked the tip of the ear that stood straight up.

Nick shook his head vigorously, annoyed at being woken up again. He only opened one hazel eye, let out a huff, and then settled back onto the floor.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Nicholas muttered. He then unwrapped Taylor, picked them up off the couch, and carried them back to their bedroom. He was tucking them in when he heard Noah’s voice again.

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED.

It can wait, Nicholas replied. He was dead tired. Was he worried about what had tried to attack Taylor? Absolutely. But all he wanted to do right now was crawl into the bed beside them, wrapping them in his tattooed arms to shield them from any more harm.

Also, he only got two hours of sleep before Taylor had called him, on the point of tears, as they told him what happened. He was sure he could sleep for days at this point.

IT ABSOLUTELY CAN NOT WAIT.

It can, and it WILL, Nicholas told Noah with the best approximation of a growl his mind could project.

It must've worked, because Noah was silent after that. Nicholas didn't want to think of what Noah would be like the next time he saw him, so instead he called Taylor’s workplace and left a message for their boss, summarizing the situation as best as he could to explain that they wouldn't be coming in today. Then he went around the house, checking to make sure everything was locked up. After he herded the cats into the bedroom, he casted his senses out once again. When he determined all was well, he changed into what he normally wore to sleep and crawled under the covers next to Taylor.

He wrapped himself around them: both arms around their waist, tucking a hand under their shirt, and a leg over theirs. He then buried his nose into the ruffled mess of their hair, and closed his eyes.

Nicholas felt like he shouldn't be surprised that he didn't miss Richmond. Once upon a time, he had said that once his Granny had passed away, he would cut New Hope completely out of his life. But that had been before Noah had become the Watcher of the Woods. He still felt like he would've tried to put as much distance between him and the town as possible, but that had also been before he met Taylor.

And now here he was: his grandmother - his tutor to his powers and this side of the spirit realm - was gone from this world, yet he felt more at home here than he did in Richmond. He felt like even if he tried, he could never leave.

Nicholas shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He breathed in, and he caught a whiff of Taylor's scent. His lips hovered just over their pulse, which he could practically taste through their skin. He could just… bite down and–

DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Nicholas nearly jumped off the bed when his brain caught up to the sound of Noah’s voice. “Jesus fucking– Noah!” he shouted, twisting around to face him. He briefly looked behind him to make sure that Taylor was still sleeping, and then he angrily whipped back around to face his friend. “Seriously, what the fuck?” He hissed quietly.

Noah glared at him.

WHEN I SAID IT COULDN'T WAIT, I MEANT IT COULDN'T WAIT.

He sounded calm, but Nicholas could practically feel the anger and anxiety simmering in his blood.

Nicholas internally groaned and slid back out of the bed. As he followed Noah out into the hallway, he could hear the soft patter of cat paws jumping onto the bed. God I wish that were me, he thought, as he knew it was Jerry who had taken his place.

“Is this about the Pale Things?” he asked as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“No, it's about something else,” Noah said. “Did Taylor tell you everything?”

"They told me about the Pale Thing," Nicholas replied.

"They didn't tell you about the thing they saw before that?”

“No,they told me about the Pale Thing,” he said flatly again. He felt like he should be concerned that Taylor hadn't told him everything, but he let it go. They had probably just been too upset to tell him. He also had been more concerned with making sure they were calmed down and safe.

“They said that there was something at the edge of the property, and it couldn't be that creature,” Noah whispered.

Nicholas furrowed his brow. He tried to think what could possibly still be out there in the Woods, but his tired brain was already in shutdown mode. There were way too many things out there that it could be without narrowing it down.

“You have any idea what that could be?” Noah asked.

"I've got no clue. You would know more than me, dude," Nicholas said.

Noah's lips thinned. Nicholas didn't need to be a mind reader to know that Noah didn't know half of what still lurked in the Shenandoah Woods. He'd only been the Watcher of the Woods for a little more than five years, and there were still times when he would find out something new.

It was something they had in common. Granny had left a bunch of hex books behind, and Nicholas had a long way to go to get through them. It didn't help that they were written in the spirit alphabet, a language his ancestors had used to hide their practice from prying eyes.

He must have dissociated, because Noah’s voice startled him. “You're still not sleeping any better, are you?”

Nicholas looked up at his best friend. “Does it look like it?” he asked.

“Dude, don't snap at me. Ever since you–”

Nicholas cut him off with a loud sigh. “I know, I know." Ever since that night in the woods.

Ever since that night he died.

“It's just… one day at a time, okay?” He said, “I'm getting through it.”

Noah gave him a look that said he didn't believe him for one second, but he thankfully let it go. “Well, try to get some sleep. You look like shit.”

Nicholas sighed heavily. “Thanks.”

When Noah left with a promise of bringing Jolly back with him if there was going to be rain, Nicholas crawled back into the bed. He picked Jerry up and placed him on the other side of Taylor, much to his dislike. He took the same place he did before Noah snuck in, and within seconds of closing his eyes, he was fast asleep.

TAYLOR

Morning came too quickly. The low red glow of the back of my eyelids woke me up before my alarm did. Once again I was finding Nick’s idea of getting blackout curtains to be a more entertaining one.

Speaking of Nick.

The next thing that registered in the fog of my sleep-addled brain was the slight snore by my ear. I then registered the feeling of arms wrapped around me, one finding its way under my shirt to keep a hand firmly pressed against my stomach. I also felt his lips pressed onto the skin in the junction between my neck and shoulder.

I opened my eyes, reaching for my phone. I checked to see how long I could stay here in the comfort of Nick's arms.

10:32.

I was over an hour late for work.

“Shit!” I cursed and tore myself free. I nearly launched Jerry off the comforter as I whipped it back.

“Mmm…” I barely heard Nick making noises as I scrambled through my dresser to find something to wear. “Bun? What’re you doing?”

“I’m late for work,” I said in a rush.

“Nnno…” he slurred. I looked up at him. “I called… told your boss you weren't comin’ in. It’s taken care of…”

My brain was short-circuiting. “But–”

He stretched an arm over the mattress, opening and closing his hand at me. “Come back to bed.”

When his words finally sank in, I checked my phone. Indeed, my boss had got the message and was adamant that I not come in today - as well as giving such bad advice as letting the sheriff's department know. “When did you–” I started to ask, but was cut off with a snore. He was back to sleeping.

I sank back into the bed and Nick's arms, wrapping mine around his midsection. I buried my face into his chest where I could hear his heart beating. The soft thuh-dum, thuh-dum was still the most reassuring sound in the whole world. Ever since that Night in the Grove, it became my favorite sound, because it meant that he was beside me, alive.

I just wish that the sound had the same effect on him that it had on me.

There had been nights where I would wake up and he wasn't beside me. Some nights he would be out front, smoking in solace or talking to someone; Noah, probably. Other nights he would be out back in the hammock, silently swaying while looking up at the night sky.

Then there were the nights where he would wake up in a frenzy, cold and trembling like he had died all over again. Sometimes I could soothe him back to sleep, but most of the time he would get up and not come back to bed. There were times where I would catch him outside, just standing. Sometimes even standing out in the woods.

The vision of him out there, almost completely wrapped up in darkness and tree limbs, had me reflexively wrapping my arms around him tighter. As if I could somehow prevent him from leaving me.

My attempt to fall back asleep was ruined when a very loud and drawn out MAO! came from the door. I groaned internally and craned my neck to see Lydia, sitting by the door, staring at me dead in the eyes. We stared each other down until she let out another one of her hungry screams.

“Alright,” I grumbled, tearing myself away from Nick. How he managed to sleep through all this screaming for years was beyond me. I pulled on some thick wool socks that Nick's mom got me for Christmas, and walked over to the door.

Just as I was about to twist the doorknob, the door opened towards me. I jumped out of the way.

“Oh, you're up,” Noah said. “I heard Lydia and–”

“I'm sure the entire Valley heard Lydia,” I interrupted him. I heard a loud snort come from down the hall.

Noah simply walked away from the door. I was sure I wasn't going to go back to sleep now, so I stepped out and silently followed him through my house.

Our house.

Once upon a time, this house belonged to him and his mother. He lost it after he died in the Woods, and was no longer able to access it due to his haint-status. It was only after I had purchased it and willingly invited him in that he was able to enter, and still it took him a while to stay here. He wouldn't even enter the spare bedroom, which I correctly had guessed was his old bedroom. Folio had taken it over, which had been fine by him. Noah and Nick still felt like they owed the Grim for what they weren't able to do all those years ago.

When I entered the open kitchen, I was surprised to see Jolly sitting at the dining table. I wasn't surprised however to see that he had nearly eaten half of the bowl I had for his sweet tooth.

“God morgen, lilla,” he said when he looked up at me. As usual, he was only wearing his black jeans, though they looked to be dry this time. His milky eyes, making him look blind though I knew for a fact he wasn't, looked me up and down. “You look like you slept well, considering.”

I knew he was only being polite out of courtesy to me. “I look like shit, Jolly. Let's be real.” I sat down across from him. That's when the smell of something cooking hit me. I turned around to see Noah at my stove. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast. What else does it look like?” He stated. He had been whisking something in a bowl, but he was putting it into a pan now.

“How many times have I told you it's not a good idea to cook on an open stove top without a shirt on?”

“How many times have I told you that I don't give a fuck?”

I turned back around to see Jolly smirking at me, to which I rolled my eyes.

“So did you guys find anything last night?” I asked.

“Other than the lik in the woods, there was nothing,” Jolly said, his Swedish accent more pronounced around the candy in his mouth.

“You don't think something else is starting to wake up in the woods, do you?” I asked, nervously twisting the table mat under my fingers.

With a clunk, Noah set a plate down in front of me. My mouth watered at the smell of eggs and cheese and bacon, but I grew irritated at the thought that he probably used an entire carton of eggs for this. “It's too early to tell,” he said, sitting down next to me. “But it's too random for one of those things to show up like that.”

“So what does it mean?” I asked.

I could practically feel the tension vibrating along Noah's skin. “Pale Things usually showed up as a precursor to worse things. If you actually did see a tall and dark figure outside,” Noah said, “then we might be looking at a return of the Black Stag.”

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

Featured Creatures

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@roley-poley-foley @hedonists @philomenie

[xeeljii]

CURRENTS ⋆⭒˚.⋆

PART 1: New Person, Same Old Mistakes

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

Summary: You and Joost were never lovers, never friends but something in the middle that ended up hurting more, you meet again years later and many things have changed but others stay the same. 

Word count: 4.9k

CW: 18+, f! reader, friends with benefits, mentions of past sex, jealousy, angst, rekindling (?)

The fall had been hard and fast as much as you didn’t want it to. Joost was cute and funny, killer combo and you had great chemistry in bed, cherry on top. The problem was that he had just gotten out of a committed relationship and was not looking for that again, good, cool, totally fine, neither were you. That is what your twenties are for just, casual sex and silly mistakes and he was perfect for that, until it wasn’t so perfect. Because again, he was very cute and very funny and you could lie to yourself about your feelings only for so long before they became unbearable like an invisible hand slowly choking you. 

You and Joost had met one of those days where he had been jumping around from bar to bar getting wasted seeing where he would end the night to avoid ending at his own place all alone again. He had told you you caught his eyes because you had such a pretty face, but in truth he just liked your laughter, you had been with a group of friends and the sweet sound of it kept calling to him like a siren song. He had finally built courage to approach you. You were very beautiful but more than that you were fun, he liked that, he felt like he could talk to you for hours without it getting tiring but also he was very curious to know what you looked like underneath all your pretty clothes so after seeing the way you kept blushing when his eyes lingered on you he bluntly asked. 

“Your place or mine?” He said it with way more confidence than he felt, in those days it was what he did, just fake it until you make it, and somehow it worked, sometimes at least. You had faintly seen trough it but he was so handsome and had an aura about him that pulled people in so you decided to ignore the warning signs. 

“Mine” You replied with a grin. 

Whether it was a good or bad decision you had no idea but you were unwilling to let such an opportunity with such a man pass you by. He had eaten your pussy like a starved man kissing through the lace of your panties, licking and sucking at your folds, you had never come that hard before, never had met someone who did it like it was pleasurable for them too and not just a curtesy at most. When you saw him disappear between your legs at first you had almost stopped him too shy to have him that close to you but he spoke before you could even gather your words. 

“I’m thicker than most so you need this.” He smiled a little self satisfied then looked at your wet heat and added. “But really you have such a pretty pussy it would be a waste not to.” He licked his lips in anticipation and then made you see stars. 

You thought he was bluffing at first but he was honest and he had you melting in his embrace with a few thrust and his deft fingers on your clit. That night he made you cum over and over until you couldn’t take his touch.

“I can’t anymore I surrender.” You said in fake dramatics putting your hand over your hard beating heart, he had laughed, a beautiful sound in the middle of the night, he had the prettiest smile you think you had ever seen, with deep dimples that adorned his cheeks.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked, getting up from bed, you shook your head. 

“Just open the window or my landlord will kill me.”

“Well we wouldn’t want the girl with the prettiest pussy ever dying.” He had said cigarette hanging from his lips as he cracked the window open. 

“You are kind of a pervert.” You said shaking your head embarrassed and hiding behind the covers as you felt yourself blushing at his bluntness, he looked back at you and smiled as he took his first drag.

“If it is only kind of then it is fine.” He blew the smoke outside the room slowly.

The image of him sitting on your chair, naked, smoking out of the window of your tiny apartment would become ingrained in your mind for years to come haunting you when you least expected it. 

In the morning he had woken up and left before you but he had written his number in a piece of paper in the back of one of your shopping lists. Sure, he had probably been the best sex you had ever had, perhaps a little too rough at times but you weren’t entirely sure if getting involved with him further was a good idea, he very clearly had his own thing going on and while you weren’t entirely looking for a relationship you also weren’t entirely not looking for it so you were scared you would end up just being a disturbance in the middle of his easy going life. So you just threw the paper away, promising yourself to just let this be a night of fun and nothing more. But that was not what destiny had in plans for you at all. 

One night after some exams were done your friend group decided to party, someone had gotten tickets for a live show and that is how most of you ended up in some dark venue downing the cheapest drinks you could get. Just your luck, he was the performer. As soon as you recognized him up on stage you felt the room start to move underneath your feet, you felt dizzy like you would float away and yet you couldn’t move at all as if glued to the floor by his magnetism. It was the first of many times you would see him preform but it was your favorite and the one you kept closest to your heart. He was fun and charismatic, had people chanting his music back to him and dancing happily, his stage presence shone brightly but it also felt authentic. Time later you would realize when he was on stage he was most honest and truly himself and when he was with you, well you didn’t really know what to belive. 

You stood there in the middle of moving bodies with booming bass pounding in your ears, completely enamored by his presence, and you knew you weren’t the only one. Out of the corner of your eyes you would see all the pretty girls close to the stage raising their hands to touch him, to get his attention. Star power underneath the surface waiting to come out, he was standing at the edge of greatness and didn’t even realize it. Knowing you had actually had him in your bed not so long ago filled you with a weird sense of pride, but seeing their sparkling eyes beaming up at him also gave you a weird sense of jealousy that you knew you had no right to. At some point during his set you felt you had caught his eye and he seemed to smile when he recognized you but quickly looked away so you must have imagined it. Yet when it all ended and people were quickly dispersing after he disappeared back stage you saw security guard signaling to you with his hand when you looked at him he said. 

”You can come backstage.”

Your friend elbowed you with a giggle. “I didn’t know you were a groupie.”

“Neither did I.” You shrugged quickly and waved goodbye to your group to follow the man to the back of the venue.

You moved through long corridors until you reached a small room filled with people drinking and talking that didn't even look up at you. He appeared right in front of you, still shirtless and sweaty with messy hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Hi!” He said still a little breathless before pulling you in.

You looked around, everyone was busy on their own conversations, he had offered you a beer and you took it.

“Brining girls backstage after your show is kinda trashy.” You said with a small smile, he took a sip of his own drink and shrugged lightly. 

“Well I only bring the prettiest ones so it isn’t as bad, no?”

That one had hurt uncomfortably, you didn’t know exactly why so you just took a sip of the beer avoiding his eyes. He noticed your silence and tried to get your attention back, he had been eagerly waiting for your call and when you didn’t he felt stupid for not asking for your number instead.  

“You didn’t call me.” He said matter of factly staring you down, you were hoping he wouldn’t bring it up, not really sure what your excuse should be for that, he continued. “You just used me for my body and threw me out!” He added faking an insulted tone covering at his chest with his hands, you rolled your eyes at him and laughed. 

“You got me” You said all sarcastic.

He giggled then bent down a little to speak directly in your ear. “Then use me again. Or was I that bad?”

You had snorted shaking your head, you blushed deeply, red blooming over your face quickly.  He liked making you laugh, pulling that sweet sound off your lips and making you blush too, you would become so impossibly beautiful when a pretty red blush adorned your face, those became his favorite pastimes in the months he would be with you.

You had taken him back to your place that night and many after. It started a routine of seeing each other multiple times per week and then almost every day for months. He liked how you became bolder every time you did it, glowed more beautiful in the night with the light of the lampshade and became more outspoken about your desires, shy at first but then couldn’t get enough of him, it made him feel desired and important in ways that he hadn't in a long time.  It made him feel wanted like never before, it made his heart ache hoping for more but too scared to ask for it. And he got better too, was eager to listen to your little whimpers and sounds and the things you liked that made you wetter and hungrier.

He genuinely liked you, having sex was great but he enjoyed listening to you talk about your day, things so mundane he wouldn’t even know about but when coming form your lips seemed so interesting. He enjoyed showering together, in the smallest shower he had ever seen, while you giggled and pushed him away when he tried to grab you just to end up making out naked in the couch because otherwise your water bill would be too high. He like learning what foods you liked and which you didn’t, trial and error with each take out he brought when he visited, seeing the way your eyes lit up when he made a good choice and how you had the tiniest of pouts when he made the wrong one but still always so grateful, it made his heart skip a beat every time he could learn a new expression of yours. He just really enjoyed your company and your time, sometimes he would bring food but your would be too busy for anything else so you would just share a meal while you did your university work and he played on his phone or watched TV, those days ended up becoming his favorites even though he never told you, because when you were done you would always just ask him to stay the night saying it was too late for him to leave and he would, he wanted you to ask him to stay forever.

He liked sleeping in your embrace and waking up before you did to look at your calm beauty, but he also often left before you woke up suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that this was no longer just a fling and he didn’t know what his next step was. 

He would sometimes stumble into your apartment after a show, a little tipsy and all red to the tip of his ears, smelling of smoke but with a pretty smile adorning his face, a face you could never say no to. You didn’t like it at first, the smell of cigarettes would linger on your bed sheets but habit is a nasty monster and then it wouldn’t be so annoying, it would just remind you of him in a nice way even when he was gone by the morning. It also made you feel stupidly important, even though you knew he had no problem finding someone else to entertain his nights, he always seemed to be looking for you no matter how late or inconvenient making his way to your place was. And things were mostly fun, he would talk about music a lot, draw sitting in the little table at your kitchen and just enjoy spending his entire free days curled in your old couch even thought you distantly felt he could probably be doing something more exciting but you never asked because you didn’t want to ruin your own good luck. 

Those honeymoon days kept pilling one onto the other until his presence became a sweet habit and his absence hurt like hell.  He was nice and probably a lot better than some relationships you had had but not everything was perfect, not even close. He seemed to have this mask he would wear for the world, only really honest with his closest ones and you were clearly were not one of them, so you felt like you were staring from outside a window into him and taking whatever crumble of his love he felt comfortable giving you, it made you feel pathetic and so abandoned even when you shared a bed.

You stupidly yearned for more, but knew you wouldn’t get it so you just put on a brave front and kept opening your heart to him hoping soon he would do the same for you. You could tell faintly from the first time you met him he was putting on a persona, that the real man behind that wasn’t willing to come out and meet you and that was okay you kept telling yourself, he was hot and you wanted a warm body at night, that was all. But as the months pilled on, it became lonely, to have virtually a stranger sleeping next to you, someone who would make you cum over and over on his fingers, his mouth, his dick but refused to speak beyond the superficial and was way too good at changing topics when you tried to get closer as if he was slamming a door against your face but with a warm smile plastered on his lips.  

And in truth you were nothing, not real friends and not real lovers. He never once called you his girlfriend in almost a year you had been seeing each other and you never introduced him to your friends. You would meet on nights where it was cold and just play pretend of a life you couldn’t have. Sometimes he would have you backstage with his group and others it would be different girls and you never wanted to learn if he was also sleeping with them or they were just friends, you had no right to know and truly the less you knew the better. He didn’t sleep with them, not really since he met you, it just wasn’t as exciting as watching you remove your makeup while you rambled about annoying projects and evil classmates. Even if he had told you, you wouldn’t have believed him, so he never did. 

The real day things ended between you two happened a couple months before you actually stopped seeing each other. It was a long weekend, he arrived on Thursday night and stayed until Sunday in that little cramped university apartment you rented and that he came to love as if it was part of you. He brought some take out and beer as always and you were just so happy to see him. You spent the whole weekend having sex and eating whatever junk you could get your hands on at some point you stopped bothering putting on clothes that he would just take off. You would eat, fuck, bathe then sleep, wake up and do it all over again so much so the days started melting into each other in a delicious bliss that would last too little. 

Sunday night you were melting into each other’s touch for whatever time it was since he came.  He had looked in your nightstand for the bunch of condoms he brought only to realize too late it was all gone. 

“Fuck.” he whispered, you were underneath him all wet and pliant, ready for his touch. 

“What?” You said looking for what his eyes were searching for and realized. “Oh…”

“I’ll go to the store, give me a minute.” He said starting to get up already thinking about how cold it was outside, how warm your bed was, how pretty you looked and how stupid he was for not bringing more. 

“You don’t have to.” Your voice had felt distant like a whisper, he searched for your face in the dark of the room unsure of if he heard correctly, you looked away avoiding his eyes, you were bright red even in the dark of the room he could tell. “You can do it raw I don’t mind.” You mumbled against the pillows.

His dick had been harder than ever before. “Are you sure liefde?” 

He wanted to, of course he wanted to, had been dreaming about it constantly since the first time you had sex and would fantasize about it when he was away doing some show when he masturbated with your beautiful image in his mind.

“Yeah, I want you.” You had met his gaze, he kissed you slow deeply, like it was the first time he touched you. 

He had taken his time kissing at every nook and cranny of your body, softly massaging at your tired limbs, warming up his way with kisses and asking constantly if you felt good. You kept whimpering with soft tears streaming from your eyes from pleasure and from love at his ministrations, he had his fingers deep into you touching you softly like you could break while petting at your swollen clit, making sure you were ready to take him. When you had felt your climax building up you had pushed at his wrist. 

“I want to cum with you.” You whined. 

He knew in that moment he was in love with you, no matter how hard he had tried to avoid it the feeling just wouldn’t go away and now it was biting viciously at his heart threatening to tear him apart.

He nodded and slid slowly into you asking if you were alright all the way through as you nodded. When he finally bottomed out he stopped moving for a minute so overwhelmed by everything, he kissed at your forehead, at your cheeks, at your pretty nose and deep at your sweet lips. He kept his forehead against yours, thrusting fast in and pulling out painfully slow, your mouths were inches apart, breathing in the same air, lips brushing against each other in perpetual kiss, he reached so deep you could almost feel him in your lungs it was so delicious it made your brain stop working so you blurted out.

“I love you Joost.”

He suddenly pounded hard into you, his hips stuttered as he came without a warning and collapsed on top of you, his full weight on your body, panting heavily right on your ear. He gave you a few more weak thrust as he rode his high with you clinging to his back. 

“Fuck schat feels so good, so good.” He whimpered as held you close to his chest, you felt his heart beating wildly, felt his release paint your walls, and when he pulled out you felt cum start to trickle from your thighs. When he could finally regain his composure a little he looked up at you with beautiful blue eyes. 

“Sorry liefde, you felt too good.” He smiled up at you apologetic.

You loved and hated when he used pet names on you, loved it because it made you feel special and hated them because he would only use them in the middle of sex so he couldn’t be too serious about it.

He was never a selfish lover, he quickly gathered himself up and grabbed at the back of your thighs pushing them to your chest. 

“Hold for me yes?” He had said, you followed his instructions blindly before you saw him disappear between your legs, you felt his warm tongue lapping at your cunt deeply moaning into you sending delicious waves of pleasure up your spine, you were already so close you wouldn’t last at all.

“Joost!” You had screamed, the delicious sensation and the surprise at what he was doing right after cumming inside you mixing into one.

He pushed his fingers deep into your heat to keep you full, pumped into you at slow steady pace while his lips closed around your clit sucking generously and in no time you were coming undone under his touch, he kept licking you through your high prolonging it as much as he could before he felt you pull away from his touch with overstimulation. When you were done he raised his head from between your legs again, chin and mouth wet with your and his release and a proud expression on his face, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand before laying in bed next to you and pulling you to his chest.

“Isn’t it gross?” You had asked when you could finally breath again so bewildered at what he had just done.

He laughed like the question itself was stupid. “No, not really. Nothing that makes you feel good could be gross to me.” 

He had left in the morning without acknowledging what you said that night. 

You tried to ignore how he didn't reply to your confession, tried to push it behind, tried not to feel pathetic about it. You tried to console yourself by imagining you were probably part of a club of girls he had taken to bed who had accidentally blurted out love confessions in the middle of it, yeah right, that has to have happened to someone else too, right? He was just so charismatic and beautiful you saw the way the front rows at his shows were always adorned with the prettiest girls and if you were not the only one this had happened to then it was less embarrassing. Except it wasn’t, because the thought of him being with other girls made you want to puke. After that you kept seeing him because clearly you had a complete lack of self respect or perhaps you were in love and couldn’t decide which one was worse. 

You remember the day he called you for the last time so well even when you have tried again and again to forget it. You were cooking dinner and just answered his video call while you kept moving around the kitchen. You talked for a bit about some university drama but could tell his mind was elsewhere, at this point you knew better than to push him because what he didn't want to share with you he simply wouldn’t say, you were painfully used to his selective silence. 

Finally he ended the suspense and he spoke. “I’m gonna be gone for over a month.” He sounded uncharacteristically formal and cold in a way you had never heard from him before but you didn’t notice it at the time.

“Oh.” you had said plainly as you continued chopping vegetables. 

To this day he wishes you would have looked at him at least once, then he wouldn’t have been strong enough to say what he did.

“I mean, you can sleep with others you know? You don’t have to wait for me.”

The sound of the knife on the cutting board was the only thing that made cut through the heavy silence inside the tiny apartment, you held onto that knife for dear life as if if you let go of it you would crumble instantly and you couldn’t do that in front of him.

“I see.” You mumbled feeling your eyes burn with tears you were holding back.

So he would also sleep with others right? That is what he wanted to say, he was just looking for a way to softly let you down, to let you know that whatever you had going on had become boring and stale and he was going to visit new cities every night and get his fill of as many pretty girls as he would meet and you would become nothing but a fuzzy image in the rear-view mirror of his life. You felt your heart breaking into dust at the realization that you were nothing to him, that you had always been nothing to him.

He had looked at you through the screen waiting to see if you would say something else, tell him you didn’t want that or curse him out for being so cowardly, for not even being able to face you, but you didn’t. 

“I have to finish this.”

Before he got another word out you ended the call with shaky hands, not even once looking up at him and those were the last words he would hear from your mouth for four years. 

You moved away. You couldn’t stand the thought of running into him, the thought of accidentally seeing him with someone else, you felt you recognized him in the shadows and it made you feel like you were going crazy. So right before he was set to come back you made the decision, quickly made arrangements for a program you had been eyeing at some point but didn’t want to commit to, however right now it was the perfect excuse to leave and never have to look back, never have to sleep again in that bed you once shared, never once having to be alone again in that tiny apartment where so many times you had fallen in love with him and that now felt like a prison collapsing on top of you. 

During tour you had stopped answering his texts and calls, that was fine, he felt he deserved it, but he wanted to make it up to you. At the time when he told you you could sleep with others he hadn’t really meant it, and he didn't do it either, he couldn't stop thinking about you even for a second but he had just felt guilty for making you wait so long even thought he was not even you boyfriend, so he thought this way it would be fine, less selfish with you, give you the opportunity to escape him. However, all he had done was hurt you and break his own heart in the process too. But he could still make it right, when he got back he would take you out, to a proper date in a nice restaurant because you deserved it, you deserved the moon and the stars and he had been an idiot for trying to pretend like he wasn’t deeply stupidly foolishly in love with you. He had bought you this perfume you mentioned once and he would talk to you properly, he would make things right again, he kept repeating himself, and he would figure out what he wanted of you.

When he actually came back you were nowhere to be found, painfully late he realized that you had never introduced him to your friends, never once told him exactly were you worked at or the name of your university and he had been so stupid and full of himself he didn’t bother to learn. Now all too late he realized he had no way of tracking you down. You had gone up in the wind leaving with a piece of his heart he didn’t even realize he had given you. 

As such is life you were back in Amsterdam, four years later. You didn’t feel paranoid that you would run into him anymore, rarely ever thought of him honestly and when you did it was almost a weird funny melancholia. Since then he had become a much bigger star than he would have ever envisioned and you felt a weird sort of pride that you had had a fling with someone like that. You never told anyone aside from a couple of really close friends who had had to dry your tears when everything went wrong but now it was fine. It was a healed wound that only ever really bothered you on cold days, but that was normal you kept telling yourself. You had met for a moment of your lives and were now old strangers, that was all that was left.

At least you thought so until one day after work while you are binge watching some series in your new apartment while shoveling take out into your mouth your phone rings. You had gotten lucky enough to get the same number as before and thought it could serve you to reconnect with some old friends from university but you didn’t even imagine who would be on the other side of the line. 

“Hello.” You say distracted still chewing, you don’t recognize the caller ID.

“Hey.” The voice sounds shaky, nervous, deeper, distantly familiar, no, you are lying to yourself, you know exactly who it is but you wish with everything you have that you are wrong.

“Who is this?” You ask in silent prayer that it is just a telemarketer and just your brain playing a bad joke on you.

“I know it has been a while but I didn’t expect you to not recognize me.” He says laughing uncomfortably, knows he has no right to be calling but still wants you to answer. “It is Joost, I’m Joost I mean.” He sounds stupid, he feels embarrassed, he feels himself blushing, his palms are sweaty holding tightly at the phone until his knuckles turn white.

“Oh.” Your voice sounds like a whisper.

“Listen I- I heard that you were back, I thought-” He stops, takes a deep breath he can’t hear you anymore, wonders if you already hung up, it would be deserved but it would still hurt like hell. “I was wondering if you would want to have dinner with me to catch up?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Part 2

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: lets decide together!

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: it's monday! and fake joe's here for you! he's... not exactly the best, for which i apologise, but, he's all for you, so please, enjoy him fictionally and respect him privately (too much to ask? i hope not?) ok great talk everyone, love you <33 xo

Wordcount: 6.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Four days of silence.

Four days of not looking each other in the eye. Of no physical touch. Of not saying a single fucking word.

You moved around each other in a shared space until you had the thought that you were probably better off avoiding each other completely for a little while.

Joe was convinced he had every right to wait for an apology before he’d speak to you again. You, however, obviously heavily disagreed.

You had just been honest.

Joe had asked for you to be honest and so, you had been, but apparently, you’d done it wrong.

It started with an evening of not speaking after an outburst. A silent night routine where you completely avoided one another. Acted like the other person wasn’t even there. You’d thought then that you’d speak in the morning. That you’d talk things out after getting some sleep, because maybe that was the problem.

You slept with your backs facing each other and dreamed of better moods in the morning.

But then the next morning, Joe had gotten up and only made one coffee.

One singular cup of coffee.

He drank it at the kitchen table, looked at you all bitterly like a disappointed parent would look at their child who was ruining their potential, and then left the empty cup there for you to grow even more annoyed at. More than you already were.

That one evening of silence had slowly turned into four days.

You bit your tongue, though. Kept quiet, because Joe did too. Stored the annoyance away. Swept it under the rug, and even though this metaphoric rug was starting to look really lumpy, you pretended you could walk over it fine still.

You then also ignored that this is precisely what the fight had been about. About you shutting up about all the little things that annoyed you. All the small things that didn’t feel worth the effort to say anything about in the moment, because you didn’t want to be a nag.

Things built with you.

Being bothersome was your worst nightmare, so you wouldn’t say anything for ages until then suddenly, on a random afternoon, a teeny tiny drop made the bucket overflow and you’d fall apart at something so stupidly insignificant which would take everyone by surprise.

Would take Joe by surprise.

And it made sense that Joe’s first reaction to your fire would be to light his own. You’d snap and shout, so Joe’d snap and shout right back.

“Babe, you never fucking communicate! It’s always– I’m always guessing with you! Just tell me when something upsets you!”

“I am!”

“Yea now you are! But you’re telling me about shit I said three months ago! What do you want me to change about something I did three months ago?!”

“I don’t want you to change anything– my God! You asked me what’s wrong, so I’m telling you what’s wrong!”

It was always the same fight. And usually, you’d end up saying something so stupid to your own ears it would break the tension and make you laugh. It’d be easy to apologise in those moments, because you knew this was on you, and the warmth coming off of Joe as he’d turn soft at your laughter would always sort of fix things.

“Stop being so silly,” he’d say as he’d hug you. As he’d kiss you on the cheek until your embarrassed grimace, aimed fully at yourself, disappeared.

“Got some moaning left in there?” he’d ask, tapping the side of your head with a finger, making you giggle despite yourself. “Want to go shout into the air from the balcony? Since you’re here now, this is the time to get all of it out.”

That was how it usually went.

And he was right; you could definitely communicate better. Express feelings in the moment rather than hold on to all the negative shit for ages.

Easier said than done, but at least you were aware that you had to stop saving things for another day.  

This time the fight had been different though. There was no eventual humour slipping through any cracks. No secret smiles hidden from each other until you stopped being able to conceal them. No apologies. Zero kind words. Just… anger. And silence.

Joe was waiting for you to break first. For your wrath to turn into something a little softer that he could mould into something more to his liking.

And you were waiting because Joe was waiting. Simple as that.

It didn’t feel fair that every time you’d share negative feelings, Joe would end up calling you silly.

It didn’t feel fair that Joe never apologised for anything.

It didn’t feel fair that, just because you were quiet for a moment as you collected your thoughts, Joe spat, “Silent treatment? All right.” at you.

Four days.

Four days of Joe making a morning coffee just for himself, actively choosing to ignore, and therefore, hurt you.

Four days of his lone empty coffee cup left on the table, which you then didn’t clean, because why the fuck would you, but the sight of it was eating you alive.

You spent four days witnessing petty, childish behaviour from the man who you started believing you needed some space from. A little breathing room. Just until he’d miss you enough to reach out and say sorry, you know?

You wondered if he was thinking the same.

If the silence was also letting his mind wander into those same dark corners yours was exploring.

But then, Joe broke it.

A glass of wine on that fourth night broke it.

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but… it felt like one. You decided it was an apology.

You were sitting on the sofa, tapping away on your phone, talking to Emily about your stupid boyfriend, and she was a good friend, made fun of him effortlessly which really did a good job of making you feel better.

Then, Joe placed a glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of you.

It didn’t fully register at first.

You saw the glass, but assumed it was Joe’s wine that he poured for just himself, and if you were going to want some, you’d have to go and fetch you own.

Mid-typing out a message to Emily about it, you felt Joe sit down next to you, and when you chanced a quick glance, you saw that he was holding a glass of wine himself as he got comfortable and turned on the TV.

Slowly, your phone lowered into your lap, and you stared at that glass of red wine on the table for a moment.

Without warning, your eyes welled up.

He poured that for you.

In the effort to not let Joe notice how this gesture hit you right in the gut, you held your breath until you were shaking, and then a heaving sob burst out of you.

Shit.

You shattered.

Split right down the middle, and burst into pieces with such vigour, you surprised yourself, but surprised Joe more.

He had expected you to pick up the glass and empty it in the sink, or whatever.

Four days was much longer than he thought you’d let this go on for.

His girlfriend was stubborn – he knew that. But four days? Four days was a really fucking long time. And, apparently, four days was long enough for a simple glass of red supermarket wine to make you cry.

The astonishment rendered Joe useless for a moment.

He just looked at you for a moment as you sat with your phone in your lap, head dropped down, and your face covered by both your hands.

This was really fucking embarrassing.

Your legs felt the want to escape the situation before your mind got the chance to catch up. You were up on your feet and wanted to bolt it to the bedroom when you heard Joe put his glass of wine down.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you got taken hold of by an arm. Pulled into a chest. Held firmly into place.

Going from four days of moving around each other like you didn’t exist to one another, to the very sudden tightest hug you’d received in ages was a lot.

And then Joe placed a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed you gently, making you fucking bawl.

No one apologised.

No one said a word, actually.

But you took whatever that glass of wine was as enough of an olive branch to let yourself be hugged.

Be shushed quietly.

Be gently kissed and softly touched.  

It shouldn’t have counted as an apology, but you’d taken it as one, and Joe had conveniently let you.

Saturday night.

You’re out.

Alone.

You know Emily would have come if you had asked her to, but you hadn’t, because she would’ve likely asked a bunch of questions you didn’t want to answer.

“Where are we going?” “That’s not where we usually go...” “Why are we going there?”

Couldn’t tell her. She’d try her best to talk sense into you. Would try to convince you that this behaviour wasn’t serving anyone in the long term.

And she’d be right.

But you currently don��t really care about the long term.

Short term is where it’s at.

Where all the fun and the excitement lives.

So you’re out. Having drinks at a bar by yourself, and you do your very best fending off any trickle of doubt at your life choices until you see him walk in.

Jackpot.

You fucking knew it.

You pretend you haven’t seen him at all, of course. Continue your chat with the girl behind the bar, until suddenly–

“You know you’ve got the worst timing?”

Joe sneaks up on you.

His voice is low in your ear, and you do your very best to sound as surprised as you possibly can when you gasp a small breath, all innocent. You turn your head to see him over your shoulder, both his hands on your sides as he looks down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You say it like you truly didn’t expect to run into him.

Oscar worthy.

Well. It would have been, had you not both been very aware that you’re exactly where you are for this exact reason. Wearing what you are wearing, drinking what you are drinking. It’s more than a lucky guess that he’d be here tonight.

Joe’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

“I’m here with a whole group.” Joe’s making excuses he already knows aren’t going to stop either one of you.  

“Do I know them?”

“No.” Joe answers as he scans your face from the side. God, you look all… glossy.

“Good.” Would’ve been a bit awkward otherwise.

“You better hang around for a bit.” Joe gives you a face, sort of stern, and it’s so comfortable to frown at him. To act all offended. Like it’s not exactly what you want to hear.

“Excuse you, I’m–” you start all aghast, and want to add, I’m seeing someone, which is a lie, but you get cut off by a strong squeeze into your waist from both his hands.

“I’m not joking. Give me… maybe, like, an hour and I’ll come get you.”

You scrunch your nose at him and he gives a small nod, his grin spreading wide, before he turns around and finds the people he came in with.

You’re alone. Single, and having drinks in a bar by yourself, which has every opportunity to feel a little sad, but instead you feel giddy. You predicted you’d run into him, and then you did.

Perfect.

You’re a genius.

After last time, you kind of want Joe to think that you are seeing someone. Just to make you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that it matters. You’ve both made the same wrong choice in similar situations before. But, still. You just don’t want him to win.

Joe joins his friends, and he throws a quick glance back to see you smile into your drink as you take a sip.

Yea. Glossy is the right word, he thinks. He could stare at you all evening.

Fuck.

A whack to his shoulder by one of his friends pulls him into a conversation and momentarily, he shifts into the evening he had planned to have.

He forgets about you for a minute, but never entirely.

It’s like there’s a constant little buzz in the back of his head, and he keeps wanting to look over. See what you’re doing. Who you’re talking to. Who’s talking to you.

Joe’s in trouble.

You do things to him that he can’t entirely comprehend, and that no one before or after you has ever really managed. He doesn’t know what to make of that most of the time, except that the feelings he’s got for you are sort of… big. And scary.

You’re still devastatingly gorgeous to him, he can objectively look at you and think, yea she’s fucking hot, but you also manage to make him laugh. Manage to him feel heard and cared for. Manage to make him forget about all current worries life has on offer for him.

And Joe is generally, just, doomed.

Whatever he had with you had worked for a while and then suddenly it hadn’t anymore. You’d suddenly wanted out, but now… it feels a little like you both want to start over. Like you both want to forget about that chapter of bullshit. Pretend it never happened.

And what’s the problem with that?

Is whatever you are doing now a problem? If it works?

If it doesn’t hurt people, Joe thinks there’s no issue.

But he knows it actually does hurt people. It’s another truth he ignores. Tries to, at least.

There’s no denying the gravitation pulling the two of you closer and closer together until eventually you end up a tangled mess. Like a pair of forgotten earphones left in a coat pocket, too annoying to untie, so instead someone will pull at both ends until the earpieces reach both ears, leaving the wire tangled up even tighter as it sits under their chin.

Even though Joe appreciates the poetic beauty he can find in all of that, he knows he’s got to fucking stop hurting people all the time.

He can’t help his feelings.

But he can help how he treats others.

If he is going to choose to let the general ache of a bad week be soothed by the balm of your presence, he can at least have the decency to not let others presume they’re dating him. Because generally, that’s always been his problem. Joe’s vague and avoidant and all about surface level fun – he never defines anything if he can help it, and he lets others think what they please.

It’s easier that way.

For him, at least.

It’s both a shame and a godsend that this is a part of him that you know through and through. That you see. He doesn’t have to try to hide it, because he knows that it’s of no use with you.

And apparently, it’s fine, because here you fucking are, aren’t you?

He remembers when he thought you were just the same, and remembers how he felt so lucky at first.

A perfect match.

He’d learnt over time, you’re actually very much not the same. But! You had at least some of the same tendencies, and you showing up in this particular bar tonight was enough proof of it.

Joe’s in his group of friends, and they’re all chatting and laughing, and this was meant to be a fun night out, but he might as well just leave right now. His mind is with the girl at the other end of the bar, sat on her own, smiling and chatting to whoever had the courage to strike up a conversation.

Yea.

He’s got more problems.

Forget not wanting to define anything with anyone.

Joe also has to stop banking his entire future on the idea that you want him too.

There’s… there’s a lot of things to ignore.

It should foreshadow that the path he’s going down isn’t good. Isn’t the right one. But... it’s so fun and exciting, he kind of has to know where it leads.

He sighs loudly, a frustrated grumble originating from sheer defeat, and he gives the glass he’s holding a glance. He’ll finish this, and then he’ll fetch you and leave.

About fifteen minutes later, he’s got you under his arm and is leading you outside. Asks, “Yours or mine?” because there’s no need to act coy with you.

You answer, “Yours.” a little too quickly for Joe not to raise an eyebrow at.

You’re walking together, and you’re still fixing your scarf, but your steps are too determined. Too rushed for your quick answer not to hide at least some secrets.

“What, you got anything to hide from me?”

“No–”

“Let’s go over to yours. It’s closer.” he challenges without the intent to actually do so, footsteps still carrying him in the direction of his own flat.

“No, I–”

“Or has Jasper left all of his things strewn about?” Joe couldn’t finish the question before having to twist his mouth in a bid to hide his smile.

You stop walking for just a second, and give him a dead pan stare that transitions into an eye-roll before you flatly say, “All right, good night.” and pretend to turn around to leave.

It makes Joe throw his head back in a laugh, both his arms grabbing at you and pulling you close.

“Mine, okay. Mine.”

And you fall back into step, smiling into your scarf at how you just made Joe’s laugh echo down the street.

Feels good to make Joe laugh.

It’s quiet for a bit, just a short few seconds. Just footsteps on the ground amongst the noises of the city. Somehow, it feels like it drags on, like every second lasts a whole minute, and you can’t help filling it with awkward chat. “No,” you start. “Jasper’s put all of his things where they’re supposed to go.” And you give Joe a pointed look after.

He bites immediately.

“Wha– I always put my things where they’re supposed to go!”

He doesn’t.

You know he doesn’t.

He knows you know he doesn’t.

It’s impossible to forget all of the little things that made the rug look all lumpy. You’d always keep things under there for ages, which gave you a lot of time to quietly lift up corners to examine all the mess.

So you snort, and he stutters through beginnings of words he never finishes to find excuses that don’t exist until you’re both laughing.

Then he says, “Here. I’ll put this thing where it’s meant to go.” And you think it’s just about the cheesiest innuendo ever, but then he takes your wrist in his hand and lets his fingers intertwine with yours.

You look up at him with a pursed smile, but Joe’s already looking right ahead, making sure you don’t bump into anything.

You’re lucky it’s cold enough to blame the flush of your cheeks on the cold wind.

You hold hands all the way to Joe’s flat.

It’s nice.

You also talk about Jasper all the way to Joe’s flat.

That’s less nice.

Joe asks what else Jasper does that he allegedly doesn’t. If he lets you keep your heating on. If he lets you sleep closest to the door. Every question comes out with disdain, like this loser doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing.

And you answer every question with lies. Paint a very pretty picture.

Jasper doesn’t even fucking exist, but you like that Joe thinks you’re taken. That you’re off the market, and that he shouldn’t be taking you home, but still chooses to. You think maybe he wouldn’t have held your hand if he thought you weren’t already spoken for.

However, it doesn’t feel so nice to remember all the things that ruined your relationship with Joe. He just keeps listing a bunch of shit you’d once yelled at him for, and you don’t think he fully understands how it’s bringing the mood down.

Presumably, you’re meant to think it’s funny, so you smile, but all of it sits wrong in your gut. It leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth that uncomfortably sticks to your tongue and sours your mood a little.

The short-term fun with Joe is meant to be just that. Fun. You don’t want to be reminded of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going home with him right now. If you did, you’d have taken Emily with you tonight.

You refrain from saying anything, though.

You’re still you, after all.

You just smile and tell Joe that Jasper actually does do all the things that Joe never did, and hope it sparks enough jealousy in him to maybe do something about it.

“Hmm,” Joe says when you turn the corner and his building comes into view. “Jasper sounds... he sounds kind of perfect, doesn’t he?”

He does.

You’ve created the image of a perfect boyfriend. One who you know you’d never actually gel with; you need someone who pushes back a little.

Problem is... Joe knows that too.

Just when the thought crosses your mind that maybe Joe knows you’re making everything up, that you’ve been lying this whole time you’ve been holding hands, Joe confirms your fears.

“Almost too um... almost too good to be true, wouldn’t you say?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Yea, well. Some people are.” you shrug, but know Joe is reading your unsteady body language just fine.

“Sure, sure. Yea. I guess so.” Joe says, and then falls silent.

He knows you’re lying.

Well, fuck.

And then, he lets the silence linger.

Joe doesn’t say anything as he fishes his keys from a pocket and lets you into his building. Doesn’t say anything as he pushes the lift button. Just gives you a little smile, like he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, thinking secret thoughts.

It gets in your hair.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s... no, it’s nothing.”

Joe lets his small smile turn into a fat smirk and it’s starting to get on your nerves. The lift doors open, and you assertively step inside before Joe can give you a small ladies-first gesture.

Joe watches you press the button to his floor before he shakes his head a little and follows you in.

“What?” you ask again, and to that, Joe finally lets a barking laugh out.

“What?” he mimics, feeding off of the brooding bit of bite he can sense growing underneath your skin.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s fucking working.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.” Joe patronises, joy very much still visible in the lines on his cheeks.

He knows you’re single.

He knows there’s no Jasper.

“Hmm.” It’s your turn to narrow eyes at him. “Yea, no. Of course not. You don’t have to try to piss me off, you’re right. You’ve got the skills to auto-pilot your way–”

In a lightning-speed quick move, Joe shuts you up by suddenly getting close enough for you to stumble back against the mirrored panel or the lift. He’s got two hands touching your sides over your coat, firm enough for you to feel them through the thick layers of fabric.

It startles you into silence, and makes you audibly swallow.

You can see from up close how Joe smugly pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes roving over you slowly, and, fuck.

Yea.

Yea. Okay.

It shifts.

All of it is shifting.

The annoyance and slight anger transfers into something else.

Into something a little more raunchy.

You feel a sudden rush down your body from the way Joe’s eyes blaze with intention.

Joe knows you. Bit rash of you to forget.

Just before the lift stills and the doors open behind him, Joe lets his body sway forward a bit to press himself up against you entirely. It makes your breath hitch and stutter. Makes you want to grab hold of the large collar of his coat to pull him down enough so you can kiss him.

But then, in a blink of an eye, he’s gone. Pushes himself off, quickly moves away, walks out of the lift, and leaves you there to catch your breath for a second.

Fucking hell.

Oh, tonight is going to be interesting.

You don’t leave the lift until the doors start closing and you have to quickly launch yourself across to get an arm in front of the sensor. Down the hall you see him disappear into his flat, leaving his door open, and you take rushing steps to follow him inside.

You don’t want to waste any more time.

You want to undress right there on his doormat, despite the bitterly cold temperature you’ve just stepped into.

You want find Joe, who you can hear is already opening and closing cupboards in his kitchen, and just... you don’t know. Jump him, you guess.

That lift moment has made you want to devour him. Made you want to be devoured by him.

But then you close his door and step into his kitchen, and find him at the counter. He’s got his back turned, and is super calmly pouring two glasses of wine.

No urgency.

Zero haste.

He knows what he’s just done to you. Knows the effect that likely must have had. He’s toying with you. Fucking playing.

You drop your coat where you’re standing, right onto the floor. Toe your shoes off to make a pile. You cross your arms and grab hold of the bottom of your top, ready to pull that over your head next, but you pause to watch Joe’s shoulders move under his shirt as he carefully twists and pushes the cork back onto the bottle to seal it.

When he turns around, he leans against the counter, one hand on the edge of it, and in the other he’s holding a nice fat glass of red.

Glass.

One glass.

For a moment you just assume that there’s another hiding behind his back, though it doesn’t even fully register.

You make eye-contact as he takes a slow sip of his drink, and then you slowly pull your top off. It reveals a lacy bra you’re convinced Joe likes the look of.

And you’re right.

Joe halts, and openly stares. Mouth in his wine. Hypnotised. Frozen on the spot. Mind slowly turning to mush.

He’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

You take a deep breath, inflating your whole chest, and Joe groans at the sight. The glass of wine gets put back down behind him, and you don’t even think he has taken real sip. Then he takes a few steps to pull a chair from his table.

He holds a hand up that means, one second, and pulls at the fabric of his trousers to give himself a bit more space before he sits down. He shifts a little, settles in, and then leans back with his legs spread wide, both hands behind his head, fingers folded and elbows sticking out.

He takes a deep breath before he gives a small nod that says, carry on.

You bite your teeth into your bottom lip as you smile, because Joe is an idiot, and you let your hands find the button to your trousers to take off next.

Then, suddenly, it lands.

There’s one single glass of wine on the counter.

One.

You stop your movements as you look at it and watch the red liquid inside softly swirl from when Joe put it down.

It takes a second for Joe to follow your gaze, and for him to understand what you’re looking at.

He frowns in confusion a little, looks back at you to see that you’re still staring, and then looks back again, and–

“Oh...”

Your expression has gone cold.

And Joe thinks that maybe he gets it. He isn’t entirely sure, but he’s smart enough to know that the show he had just settled in for is probably going to get cancelled if he doesn’t do anything.

“Did you...”

But he’s not sure what to say. Doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. When you start moving, he thinks maybe he doesn’t have to.

It’s crazy how this feels like it used to feel, before.

But, it’s a little different now, because… there’s nothing at stake. There’s no you to protect. No you two as a couple to preserve.

That stupid single glass of red wine.

You fucking hate it.

And you know it’s sick, you know that you’re not meant to enjoy this, but the feeling of rage bubbling up within you honestly feels kind of good. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to experience full-body resentment, and have the immediate source of it right there to take it out on.

You want to feel this dark, sticky displeasure.

Feels fucking good.

Joe’s been reminding you of what a shit boyfriend he was to you, which was meant to be ha-ha funny. Joe thought enough time had passed. You had gone from no-contact to two people that bickered for a bit, and then would end up in bed together. It had happened twice already, and you had all the right ingredients to keep this going. The recipe had proven itself delicious, and Joe thought he could just... serve the same meal again.

It’s self-destructive, you know it is, but… you are hungry for it too.

You take a few slow steps and walk over to look at this glass of wine more closely. Joe watches you from his seat, entirely unsure of what to do, and then, without warning, you slowly push the whole thing into the sink.

Red splashes everywhere, and the glass clatters loudly, but it doesn’t break.

Next, you take the bottle into your hands. Look at the label for a moment. Pretend to read it. It’s still pretty full.

Too bad, you think. Such a waste.

You remove the cork, turn around to look Joe directly in the eye, and then tip that over as well. The whole sink colours blood read as you drain the whole thing, and all Joe can do is watch on from his seat.

He doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t say anything.

Just watches you and feels the energy of the room build.

He’d forgotten how things always build with you.

You’re quite the sight, face reading thunder, standing in his kitchen in your bra, breath deepening with every second that passes.

Joe hates what it does to him inside of his trousers.

When the bottle empties, wine clattering in the sink, Joe sees your face change. Something more… calm seemingly overcomes you. You look... pleased.

“Does that feel justified?” Joe asks, eyes blinking at you.

“Fuck you. Yes it does.”

“Do you have any idea how expensive that was?”

You don’t give a shit how expensive that was, but just because you know Joe does, you want to know.

“Tell me.”

Joe scans your body all the way down and then all the way back up.

“Come here.” Joe holds an arm out and reaches for you.

“Shut up. Tell me.” You’re already making your way over.

“That’s a class A premier grand cru...”

You take Joe’s hand and let him pull you to sit on his lap. To straddle him, thighs spread wide, one leg over each one of his.

“That was a class A premier grand cru.” the words mean nothing to you, you know fuck all about wine, but there’s something glorious about correcting Joe.

“Hmm.” Joe hums as his nose nudges yours, and he lets both hands slide up your thighs until he finds the bits he likes holding most. He uses his grip to pull you in closer and continues, “A blend of merlot, and cabernet franc...” Joe’s French accent is awful. “An award-winning Château Angélus from... from 2016, I think...”

That’s fairly recent, you think. Can’t be that expens–

“Cost me over 500 quid.”

Your eyes darken.

Good.

You wouldn’t pay much more than a tenner for a bottle of the same size.

“Should’ve poured me a glass.”

And it���s only then that the penny drops. That he gets it. You can see it in his eyes. The flush of memories suddenly making it to the forefront of his brain.

The silent treatment.

The coffees he didn’t make you.

The wine he eventually did pour for you.

That one glass of red that temporarily had fixed everything.

Shit.

Joe grimaces. Groans. Squeezes his eyes shut. Feels like an idiot.

“Should’ve poured you a–”

You kiss Joe.

Hard.

Breathe him in, and move in enough for it to almost make the chair tip backwards. You’ve got both your arms around his neck, hips moving over Joe’s lap in a desperate grind, all needy and in search of feeling something.

Fire.

You want to feel the fire.

Momentarily, you think it’s working. That something is catching aflame. You can feel how Joe spreads his legs even wider, bucking his hips upward as he presses himself into you.

Joe is straining in his trousers, and he groans as you figure out the right rhythm to make it feel good with every hip roll, with every back and forth.

You break the kiss to let a moan escape you, head dropping back, and Joe’s mouth finds the skin of your neck to taste. His teeth graze before he kisses as you fiercely move against each other. Louder noises escape you when Joe lets a hand curl around and grab you by the back of your neck.

“Yea? That feel nice?” he pants, and all you can do is bob your head in a barely there nod as you keep moving.

It does feel nice.

Feels really nice.

Not exactly fire, though. You’re both in trousers, fabric rubbing together furiously, dry humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers who haven’t passed third base yet.

So, not fire, but nice none the less.

In contrast, there’s a lot of things Joe’s feeling, and he kind of wants you to know about all of them. Needs to speak them into the air in order to fully process what’s happening inside of his brain.

“Did you know I um… I broke everything off, the next day?” Joe starts, and stops to curse under his breath. “Fuck. Yea, keep going. Shit. Ah... A-after you left, I mean, remember? I had a lot of m-missed calls, so I called her back, and I–”

You shut Joe up with a kiss.

Try to at least.

“We could–” Joe starts again after turning his head and pushing you aside with his nose, both hands spread wide over your thighs as he helps you move over his lap. “Remember, how we really were something?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Try to focus on the feelings inside of your body instead of on the words you don’t want to hear.

“We could be something still.”

“N-no.”

You refuse to acknowledge what Joe’s trying to tell you, but don’t stop your movements. You can’t stop, head dropping back. This all feels too good.

It’s still not fire, though.

There’s no stakes.

You’re both single, and every decision you have made this evening turns out to have been inconsequential.

It’s... it’s almost boring.

But it’s good enough.

You just need a couple more seconds, you can feel it building already.

“We c-couldn’t be somethinhgh...” you choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” Joe insists, voice low and breathy, your bodies still moving in tandem. He then uses one hand takes hold of your face by your cheeks, tilting your head down so he can make eye-contact with you for a second.

“Yes we could.” He sounds hopeful as his eyes search yours. “Don’t you get it?”

But your eyes are glassy. They flutter and want to roll back.

Joe knows this look.

Know what this means.

And it’s not like Joe thinks his kind words will really fix anything, but, maybe they will, you know? Maybe. He’s glad he has said them anyway, even though you look like you haven’t even properly heard him.

“You close, baby?”

He switches gears.

“Yea? Come on.” He helps you move with strong arms that press you down a little more, and your arms scramble behind his back in your want to hold onto him tightly.

“There you go.” he coos into your ear, and, it’s not fire, but you come anyway.

Joe should have poured you a glass of wine.

Shouldn’t have brought up bad memories, shouldn’t have tried to be funny about it, and absolutely should have simply gone and poured you a glass.

You pretend that a glass of wine would’ve made a difference tonight.

The difference that you had hoped to find.

That would’ve lit the fire.

Deep down you know that’s not it, but still. The empty bottle is right there, watching you come down from your high, Joe still hard beneath you, and it’s easy to use that as the excuse.

You decide on the spot that Joe’s going to have to deal with what resides inside of his underwear by himself.

You’re done.

Sitting up, you look him in the eye for a short moment and softly but definitively say, “Should’ve poured me a glass.” and press a small kiss to his cheek which Joe gladly accepts.

Because he knows you’re right.

“Should’ve poured you a glass.”

---

The Taglisted

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@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

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add yourself

[nayedoll]

About you (Part 2 of Baby Came Home)

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, please don’t read if ur uncomfortable!!!

this is part 2 to baby came home // i highly recommend reading part 1 for context on this fic!!

cw: 18+, nsfw, smut (f!receiving oral, protected piv), angst, some jealousy ig, reader is kind of a bitch lol

word count: 5k

a/n: some songs that fit the vibe: about you - the 1975 / right - mac miller / thinkin bout you - frank ocean / needy - ariana grande

───────────────────────

You sigh anxiously, tossing your phone onto the big pillows of your bed as you lie down on your soft comforter; it helps soothe your nerves a bit, being in your old bed again, surrounded by your stuffed animals and the girlish decoration of your room that has not changed in the slightest — except maybe it’s a little cleaner now, thanks to your mom.

You really shouldn’t be this stressed about today.

If anything, it should feel nice that your old friends were kind enough to invite you out to dinner, a reunion as they had called it to celebrate the fact that you finally stepped foot in the Netherlands after four years. But whatever emotion you should be feeling right now is subsided by the anxiety of meeting Joost again.

After he left New York, you had been texting and calling each other, neither as friends nor as something more, just enjoying the comfort you brought to one another. And for a while, it really seemed like this was going somewhere, like things could work out again if you tried. But of course, everything had to be ruined; all it took was one question— “Why did you leave?”— before a small argument erupted, one that was enough for you to distance yourself from him again.

Joost was trying to find a reason to why you left, why you didn’t want to come back and be with him and frankly, you didn’t even know what to tell him. You said you needed some time, a few days to think which turned into weeks and months of barely any communication— and now here you were, in the four walls of your old bedroom, getting ready to face him again.

The whole situation sort of reminds you of your first date with Joost; same room, same bed, trying to calm yourself down and pick out an outfit but nothing looks good enough. Your dad still has the TV on too loud downstairs and your mom still comes in your room without knocking. The thought eases you down a bit, makes you laugh as you finally make the decision to leave, already running late.

—

The restaurant is small but pretty, soft lighting falling on the adorned walls as the sound of jazz music and people talking fills the air, helps you relax a little. It’s the same one you used to drag Joost to all the time, the one he would always complain about but secretly loved despite not being the “romantic type” in his own words. You wonder if he picked it out, if he even played a part in the planning of this; the thought is unlikely but still brings a smile to your face.

You walk further into the dining room, overtaken by the loving atmosphere of people laughing, talking, genuinely enjoying themselves as you look around for your friends. You eventually spot them at a table towards the back of the room, all the people you cherish so deeply; Alanis, Apson, Tantu, Lyon and of course, Joost.

With a sweet smile on your lips, you approach them slowly yet nervously. Alanis is the first one to notice you as she rises up from her seat, pulling you into a warm, tight embrace.

“Missed you guys!” You exclaim, hugging everyone one by one, slowly, to put off coming face to face with Joost as long as possible. Inevitably you reach him and god does he look good; the same blonde fluffy hair, same baby blue eyes, an outfit that fits him infuriatingly well, of course coupled with his usual smug expression.

The tension in the room immediately shifts as your friends share knowing glances between them— you get the idea that they have all been informed about your little… reunion with Joost in New York, the memory of him on top of you flashing through your mind and making you swallow deeply.

He beams at you, the knot in your stomach loosening as he hugs you, a small confirmation that things are still okay between you.

“Hey,” You hug him back, maybe for a little longer, a little tighter, something that he doesn’t seem to mind as his big hand caresses your spine. He smells like cologne, it’s the one he was wearing that night in New York, that had your apartment smelling like him for the days afterward.

He pulls back, small smile on his lips, “It’s nice seeing you again,” It makes you smile too as you stare into each other’s eyes wordlessly.

“Alright lovebirds, maybe it’s time to sit down?” Apson says, making you and Joost chuckle awkwardly, reminding you of why you’re here in the first place.

—

After some more catching up with everyone and a few glasses of wine, you can confidently say you’re relaxed and having fun— once again proven to have been overthinking. You’re sitting across from Joost, unintentionally noticing every tiny detail about him, the little smiles, the dimples, all of his mannerisms that you adore so much.

He’s oblivious to it but you’re not the only woman who keeps eyeing him tonight. In fact, the girl next to you has been practically burning holes in his face by staring so hard— and needless to say, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.She’s pretty, her long blonde hair styled in loose curls and her maxi black dress so simple yet so perfect on her. It makes you sick, even though it shouldn’t be and you know it— but you can’t help the growing jealousy within you the more you stare, her eyes hungry for him and every one of her moves deliberate to make him acknowledge her but he never does.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Joost says as he stands up from his chair, hands digging into his jacket’s pockets to find his pack of cigs.

The blonde girl looks up at him with a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, once again getting on your nerves— to be fair, you shouldn’t be mad at her, letting your envy consume you like a little girl but the alcohol makes it a little hard for you to control your emotions in the moment.

“Are you coming?” He asks, knowing you haven’t smoked yet tonight.

You sigh a little frustrated, not thinking about it much “Not in the mood.”

Joost pauses for a moment, the tilting of his head showing his confusion about your sudden change in attitude. Nevertheless, he gives you a small nod and leaves… you feel somewhat bad now, maybe you should go out there and keep him company.

But before you can even get up, that same blonde girl is already making her way to the exit door, her floral scent pervading the air along the way.

You take a deep breath; okay now you definitely feel like smoking. All the possible scenarios run through your mind at once— what if Joost gets her number? Or worse, takes her back home with him? You don’t think about it much longer and walk towards the door and out the restaurant.

The street is almost empty by now, cold air blanketing your body. Joost is just a few meters away, back rested against the brick wall as he lights his cigarette and— as expected— the girl is standing in front of him, making conversation; you can’t hear what she says but it makes Joost smile, giving you enough of a reason to feel even more jealous, a horrible feeling in your throat.

He doesn’t notice you, says some joke that causes her to giggle; you contemplate going back inside, whether this is embarrassing for you— after all it’s none of your business, you’re not his girlfriend anymore. But the pure idea of Joost taking another girl home, kissing her, fucking her the way he did you makes you want to puke, it fills you with rage.

You walk up to them, the sound of your sharp heels on the ground catching his attention. The girl turns around, obviously bothered by your presence and you notice the unlit cigarette on her hand; classic way to approach someone, you think.

You glance at her, bitter smile on your lips. “Can I have one?” You ask Joost, standing closer to him.

“Thought you didn’t wanna smoke right now,” He says but still hands you the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. You pull one out, coaxing him to light it for you as the girl watches.

Now that you came here, you don’t know what to say exactly, the awkward silence making you nervous. Jealousy has always been a bad trait of yours, though really you’re all bark and no bite, never actually acting upon it; if anything Joost always found it cute, teasing you about it endlessly.

“Is zij je vriendin?” (Is she your girlfriend?) The girl asks, pointing at you.

Joost giggles at that, causing you both to glare at him as his laughing comes to a halt. ”Was vroeger,” (Used to be) He replies, taking a short puff from his cigarette, “Het is ingewikkeld.” (It’s complicated)

You slightly furrow your brows, trying to translate the words in your head but to no avail. The girl nods, less confident in her attitude now as she hands the cigarette back to Joost and slowly leaves, mumbling something which you assume to be goodnight.

You’re left alone with Joost, remaining silent as all kinds of thoughts race in your mind. Once again, it’s you and him smoking against a wall, tension filling the air, almost like you’re having deja vu.

“What a nice girl,” Joost says, his tone an exaggerated delight. You nod quietly and take a deep inhale of smoke, nicotine filling your lungs— he’s obviously teasing you and it annoys you how well he knows you, always making it impossible for you to hide from him.

With a simpering smile, he looks down at you and asks, “And really pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah she’s cute,” You say as nonchalantly as you can, peering at Joost when he lets out a low laugh as if he’s mocking you. “What?”

He looks back at you with a cocky smile, “You’re jealous,” He says with such confidence it drives you insane, makes you want to punch his pretty face (and kiss it better afterwards).

You scoff, “No I’m not,” You avoid his eyes, the uncertainty evident in your words.

“Admit it,” He smirks, you feel his eyes scanning your face that has a pinkish blush on it from his teasing, though you’d like to think it’s because of the cold.

You glance at him as he raises an eyebrow, waiting for your response. “You’re so full of yourself,” You chuckle, blowing the smoke away from his face.

Joost giggles, more so amused than anything else by the way you’re acting, so timid for nothing.

“And you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Fine,” You sigh as he puckers his lips a little, a sly smile hidden behind them. “I admit I was a little… bothered by a girl flirting with my ex. So sue me for that.”

Joost crosses his arms, grinning widely. “Really?” He emphasizes, taunting you.

“Yes, really.” You repeat his words back to him with the same assertive tone.

“Is bothered the new way to say jealous?” He feigns confusion, his finger scratching the top of his head.

Unbelievable, you think. You groan, stubbing out your cigarette with your shoe,

“You know what, I’m going back inside.”You’re not actually mad with him but more so matching his playfulness and teasing him back.

When you turn around to leave Joost gently tugs at your arm, pulling you back to him as he throws his finished cigarette away.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, I’m sorry.” He giggles, using this as an opportunity to grab you by the waist, bring you closer as you pout your lips at him. “I get it,” He murmurs.

“You get it?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of what exactly it is that he’s getting. His touch on your skin is strong, it makes you lightheaded as you look up at him under the yellowish street lights.

He nods, “I’d be jealous too if some guy was flirting with you,” You smile a little, fighting to keep your composure. Joost was never the toxic and overprotective type, but you loved it whenever he got a little jealous, expressing it in petty but cute ways be it kissing you more than usual or being clingy with you in front of other men.

“Yeah?” You ask him.

“Mhm.” His lips are close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing together. “Although I bet tons of guys have flirted with you since I left New York, am I right?” His voice is lower, raspy sending a warmth through your body even in the middle of the cold night.

“Maybe,” You bite your lip, slowly sliding your hands up the sides of his neck.

Some men had indeed approached you in those months, none of whom you bothered giving a chance to. It didn’t matter how attractive or successful or charming they were— they weren’t Joost and that was enough for you to turn them down.

Joost presses a few kisses on your jaw and the crook of your neck, his lips wet and soft on your skin. “I bet you flirt a lot too,” He mumbles against your neck as tingles erupt all over your body. “Talking to anyone but me,” His words are bittersweet, petty as he nips at your skin and makes you moan quietly. You didn’t text me either, is what you want to say but bickering right now seems a little pointless.

“Let me make it up to you,” You whisper, holding his face in your hands as you lean in to kiss him. Your lips press together hungrily, savoring the taste of wine and cigarettes on his tongue. His hands grab your ass tightly, squeezing it as you let out little sounds into the kiss, sounds that make Joost crumble into pieces all the more. Your sweet scent stimulates his senses, makes him go crazy as he feels himself grow harder.

“Oh damn,” You cut the kiss short, turning around to see Apson and Teun, a shared amusement on their faces— definitely not awkward.

“Okay! I guess we’re not smoking after all,” Apson says, urging Teun to go back inside as you hear Joost laugh behind you.

“No, it’s okay. We were gonna head back inside anyways,” You step back from Joost, fixing your skirt as you wave them over to where you are.

“We were?” Joost asks, you slap him on his arm smiling. “Okay,” He nods, following you inside as he mumbles something to the guys which makes all of them laugh; you assume he scolded them for interrupting your heated moment, seeing as he playfully hits Tantu on his shoulder.

“Wait,” You stop him before he pushes the glass door open, gently grabbing his chin in your hand. Joost looks down at you like a confused puppy, it almost makes you laugh as you brush your lip gloss off his lips. “There.” You smile as he thanks you.

“My place tonight?” He whispers softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek and you nod.

Alanis and Lyon are still in their seats, talking when you come in. They look up at you, smile knowingly at each other because it is so obvious what you and Joost were doing out there, your faces flustered and Joost’s hair unruly.

Joost, as always, breaks the awkward silence, says something about how his steak is shaped like Belgium… which works well enough to switch the subject. Peeking at your right, you notice the blonde girl from before— she seems fairly disappointed, not looking at Joost anymore and it gives you a weird sense of pride, knowing he picked you again, that you’re the one going home with him tonight; hopefully you’ll talk to him later, tell him the thing you’ve been meaning to say all night.

—

Your friends ended up going for drinks after the dinner which you and Joost politely declined, opting to walk the twenty minutes back to his house.

There’s a light breeze in the air, giving you enough of an excuse to get closer to Joost and hug him from behind, your arms around his stomach— maybe it’s too romantic of a gesture but he clearly doesn’t mind as he keeps on fumbling with his set of keys, a small smile on his lips.

Finally unlocking the door, he ushers you inside his house; it’s different to his old one, bigger and surprisingly cleaner than you’d expected, though still cluttered with random objects here and there.

Joost notices the way you look around the dark room, the soft moonlight coming in through the big windows. “Like it?” You feel his hand on your ass, his body pressing you gently against the door.

Placing both arms around his neck you smile, his chest warm against yours. “Yeah. You have good taste in furniture,”

“You should see my taste in women,” His words make you beam against his lips, teeth knocking together as he leans in to kiss you. You deepen the kiss, helping Joost with taking off his jacket that is quickly thrown somewhere on the floor behind him. He does the same for you, kissing along your jaw to your exposed shoulder as your leather jacket falls down to your feet.

Your hand travels down to his crotch, palming his erection which earns you a small sigh from him. Joost pulls you closer by the waist, strong hands caressing your curves as you continue teasing him, your fingers playing with the metal buckle of his belt. In the meantime, you start placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck, your little bites in between making him groan quietly.

“Those are a lot of hickeys,” Joost says.

“Just making sure no other girls approach you,” You mumble; it’s half serious half teasing, you know it turns him on when you’re possessive over him.

Joost smirks, fighting the urge to call you out for your jealousy once again, though he makes a mental note to tease you about it later. He’s too flustered to speak right now anyways, with the feeling of you everywhere; your lips on his neck, one thigh between his legs all while you’re trying to unbutton his shirt (and failing miserably at doing so)— you’re hungry for him and he likes that, likes knowing you’re as weak as he is on the inside, as your hot breath trembles on his neck.

“Let me help you schat,” He pulls back from you, focusing on the buttons on his striped button-up which he takes off at a tauntingly slow speed, biting back a smile when he hears you whine at the loss of contact. Your hands roam around his stomach and chest under his loosened shirt as he fully removes it, then blindly tosses it somewhere behind him.

He clicks his tongue, “So impatient,” He kisses you again, finger on your chin to bring your face closer.

“Yeah because I need you,” You breathe out, feeling his sly smile grow on your lips; it comes out more desperate, more whiny than you intended it to sound, your neediness making Joost’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, biting his lip. “Come on, this way,” Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bedroom— small and messy, full of his scent.

He sits you down on his poorly made bed, the back of your thighs meeting the cool wrinkled sheets. You watch as Joost begins to undo his belt, rubbing your legs together to loosen some of the tension in between them but it does nothing for you— the image of his big tattooed hands on the small metal letters of his belt, Albino, only adds to your arousal. You raise your foot slightly, nudging his calf as he glances at you, your doe eyes looking up at him, practically begging him to hurry up.

He chuckles, pushing his pants down. “So damn needy,”.

He kneels down on the carpet in front of you, the tender touch of his hands down your legs and his tight grip on your calves giving you goosebumps. He takes your high heels off, carefully putting them aside before his lips start littering your legs with kisses.

“Such a gentleman,” You coo, your breathing deepening with each peck on your skin as Joost gently pushes your legs open to gain more access to your inner thighs. There, he sucks on the sensitive skin, coaxing you to gasp; he hasn’t even fully touched you, yet you’re already melting under his touch, aching with need.

Joost stops at the hem of your skirt, his light blue eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, an image you wish you could capture. “Baby can I eat you out, please?”

A small smile forms on your lips. Who’s needy now?

You nod down at him, “Since you asked so politely.” Joost motions for you to stand up, sly grin on his face; he strips your skirt off, his palms aimlessly stroking your legs, giving you a small squeeze on your ass. He gently pulls your panties off, the lace fabric slightly sticking to your skin due to the wetness in your folds.

“Zo mooi,” His compliment sends a warm smile to your face as you stroke his hair. He plants another quick kiss on your clit, the tiny tingling sensation causing you to hiss, then guides you backwards against the bed until your back hits the comforter. Involuntarily, you bend your knees for him as he climbs into the bed, slightly hovering over you.

He leans down and kisses you hungrily, his thick fingers rubbing small circles on your clit as you moan loudly into the kiss from the sudden wave of pleasure. You feel him smile against your lips, a cocky smile at that.

He slowly pushes one finger into your slick folds, “You like that?” He purrs against your jaw. You nod repeatedly, muttering a soft yeah in between shallow breaths. Joost goes lower as he lies on his stomach, burying himself in your thighs, deep purple marks all over them from his previous kisses. Withdrawing his finger from you, he licks up your entrance, making you suck in a sharp breath as your thighs close together ever so slightly, pressing on his head.

He starts soft, his tongue flat near your clit making your skin prickle before he moves down, teasing your hole with just the tip of his tongue.

Impatiently, you push your hips forward, desperate to feel more of him; he nuzzles your core as you both let out a small laugh. “You want me to suffocate down here?”

You giggle, “I will suffocate you if you don’t hurry up,”

He grins, delving his tongue into your slit. You moan as you feel it swirling inside you slowly, making you clench. “Faster,” You breathe out, entangling your fingers in his hair, softly pulling at his golden hair strands. Joost picks up the pace as his tongue explores you, nudges your clit a few times to hear more of your breathy moans. He holds your legs open that are trembling as you chase your climax, your body burning with overstimulation. His thumb is stroking your clit in fast motions, causing you to whimper continuously and grasp at his hair to which he hums sending a vibration through your core.

With that, you come undone on his mouth as you let out a loud mixture of cries and curses. Joost lets you ride out your high, sucking at your lips and your clit. His chin is glistening with your release as he pulls back from you, plants a few gentle kisses on your thighs, letting you catch your breath.

You gaze at him as he sits up a little and grabs a condom from the nightstand. He’s a little sweaty, his face flushed and his hair looks messy as he runs his hand through it, He’s perfect.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He says as he takes off his boxers— your eyes flicker to his hard cock, the tip swollen and leaky with precum. You feel a little guilty, want to take care of him like he did you.

You giggle, narrowing your eyes at him, “That’s how that girl at the restaurant was looking at you, just so you know I’m not crazy or anything,”

“You’re still on that? Baby, I’m here with you now, you don’t have to worry about it,” He softly pulls your hand, making you sit up next to him, kissing you on your cheek.

Smiling softly, you take the condom from his hand, opening the wrapper with your teeth. “Joost?” You ask him as you carefully slip the condom on, feeling his veins along the way. He hums, coaxing you to keep talking. “Can I ride you?” You’re a little shy when asking him that and you don’t know why; today in general, you’re kind of nervous around him and he finds it funny, cute nonetheless.

“Hell yeah,” You look at him again, his warm smile comforting you.

He crawls past you, sitting against the plush headboard as you move to sit atop him. Your face is also flushed, beaming with the afterglow of your orgasm and Joost can’t help but kiss you again, slowly, whilst fully removing your top.

You take his shaft in your hands, adjusting yourself above him so that his tip is right at your entrance before you push yourself down onto him; the residue of your arousal makes it easier for him to bottom out, a drawn out groan leaving his mouth as he does so, feeling you tighten around the veins on his cock. You lift yourself up slightly until only the tip is inside of you before quickly sinking down onto his cock again— you continue this pattern, noticing the breathy moans that Joost lets out, his mouth opened ever so slightly and his brows furrowed.

You pick up your pace, placing both hands on his shoulders for support as Joost squeezes your tits in his warm hands. Locking eyes with him, you almost want to cry with how beautiful he looks, how good his cock feels inside of you, how perfect you are for one another.

“What’s on your mind liefde?” He breathes out, a grunt slipping from his lips.

You bite back a moan, “Joost I want you,”

“You have me,” He chuckles.

“No,” You mutter, “I want you all the time. I love you,” You speak fast, desperate to convey your feelings to him. “I love you so much,” You repeat, burying your face in his neck.

“Shit,” He groans as he starts thrusting into you, noticing that you’re growing tired. “I love you too,” His hands are tightly wrapped around your body, holding you in place as he slams his shaft against you— it’s fast and sloppy, makes you dizzy with pleasure, unable to suppress your loud moans. Your eyes tear up a little at the confirmation that he also loves you— it’s not the first time you hear it from him but you’ve missed it, you’ve missed him and this stupid city that you grew to love because of him.

The pressure is too much, easily leading you to your second orgasm tonight as you dissolve into pleasure, moaning Joost’s name repeatedly. He’s now the only one doing the work, pushing himself into you relentlessly as you kiss him softly on his face because that’s the most you can do right now with how much your legs are burning.

A little later, Joost comes inside of the condom, the sound of his deep moans (and a few whimpers he tries to suppress but fails) filling the room.

You collapse next to him and onto the bed, breathing deeply, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Joost gets up wordlessly to put his boxers on again, coming back with a shirt on his hand and your panties. He sits down in front of you, gently pulling your tired body up so that he can redress you. “You’re gonna get cold,” He mumbles, his thoughtfulness bringing a sweet smile to your lips.

“Thank you,” You coo, enjoying the feeling of his shirt on your body; it’s warm and big, carries his scent that you love so much. “I like this shirt,”

“Yeah? Keep it. Y’know to have something remind you of me when you go back to New York,” He chuckles a little as he says that. You take a deep breath, looking at him with eager eyes. He senses a hesitation in you, tilting his head in confusion, “What is it?”

“I’m not going back,” You say, your voice close to a whisper. “To New York, I mean.”

Joost grins, “Don’t play with me dude,” He says, shaking his head.

“I’m not,” You chuckle, gently placing your hand on top of his. “I got offered a job here and I’ve been thinking about it,”

Joost’s eyes light up, his dimples prominent. “Liefde that’s great news,”

He hugs you, presses some kisses on your hair as you stroke his back— he never wants this feeling to go away. “Date tomorrow?” He asks in your ear.

“Mhm.” You smile and kiss him softly, staying in the comfort of his arms. You get a good feeling, one that you haven’t had in years; you will go on that date and things will work out between you and you will never let him go again.

“I love you.”

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thank you sm for reading!!! i hope this met everyone’s expectations lol 😭🥹