#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.

[blorbocedes]

if I never lied, then, baby you'd be the truth

maxiel, 4.2k, rated: E

tags: the winner's room, Italian Grand Prix 2021, dubious consent, one sided maxiel, power imbalance

summary:

When they ask who Daniel wants for the Winner’s Room, the choice is obvious. There's a stray consideration to stick with the team, teach the sulking younger teammate some humility but Daniel’s not a fucking babysitter.

In his mind, there really only was one actual choice. It was always going to be him. Even if he's won six races this season, and hasn't called Daniel once yet.

Max Verstappen.

[joosthead]

SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ

just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader

₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F)  gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n

₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you. 

The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making. 

It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour. 

He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.

Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else. 

You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed. 

In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.

In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down. 

As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.

You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you. 

He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house. 

“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing. 

You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—” 

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.” 

You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”

“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away. 

—

The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating. 

You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days. 

As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake. 

The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again. 

You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?” 

It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.” 

“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.” 

Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you. 

The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth. 

“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles. 

You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles. 

“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.” 

Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet. 

“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again. 

“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.

“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?” 

Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”

“I could say the same for you.” 

You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is. 

Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own. 

Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.  

Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else. 

Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option. 

Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to. 

“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.

“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.

You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.” 

Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway. 

“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”

“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.” 

You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet. 

Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?” 

“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?” 

The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him. 

“Much too long.” 

You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.

Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl. 

“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.” 

“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is. 

“I might have to promise with how this is going.” 

“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.” 

“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”

He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.” 

“When has that ever stopped you before?”  

Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.” 

“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all.  He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips. 

His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.

He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase  it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly. 

The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.

“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough.  The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”

It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most. 

You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship. 

Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”

All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album. 

The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts. 

“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?” 

“You…you wrote a song about me?” 

Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded. 

Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.

“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention. 

You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”

Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now. 

“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—” 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.” 

That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.” 

“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap. 

You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.

“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.” 

You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.” 

“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied.  You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.” 

“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together. 

“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”

“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.

“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?” 

“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.” 

“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.” 

“But I wanted to know.” 

“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.” 

“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.” 

“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.” 

[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 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[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

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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 😭���

[icallhimjoey]

Drown In You

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the shower with Joe, words get spoken that hold nothing back. This is the cut scene, the one entirely jumped over, from part 5 of Reinvent Love, remastered in full HD for your enjoyment. Full smut, little plot (although, read Reinvent Love because it'll help)!

CW / disclaimer: 18+, smut, language, rpf, fem!reader, reader has hair that needs to be brushed after showering

Author’s note: okay so the horny bitches in my inbox have let themselves be heard, and who am i to tell you no? here you go my cumcum twats, enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.2K

“I’ll wait.”

Old hair product mixed with sweat ran into your eyes as the shower stream hit you right over the head and… wait. What? You didn’t think you heard that right.

Joe was holding you, because you’d let the surface crack. You didn’t know if it was his repeated asking for you to talk to him, or if it was how he kept looking at you. But you’d cracked, and you’d seen Joe’s eyes flare for just a second, like what he’d been asking for actually didn’t turn out to be what he wanted. Immediate regret punched him right in the stomach when you showed the smallest bit of emotion.

Joe worried about you.

Worried he was pushing you further away whilst he was trying to keep you close.

Worried he had made mistakes too big to rectify.

Worried you were never going to tell him how you actually felt and he’d just have to go off body language, which, you’d been doing that and it had been fine, but some situations called for explanations.

Like this one.

He just thought you’d get angry with him. Not that you’d cry. In hindsight, he didn’t fully understand why that hadn’t been the expectation, though. You always felt with your whole body. Heavy emotion and tears always found you fast.

So he’d curled his arms around you then, and it took you a good while to control the spasms inside of your chest. You weren’t technically crying, you didn’t think, but if Joe was going to press you to talk one more time, you’d burst right into sobs.

And then he said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him, forcing him to slide one of his arms from around your head.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

So you had heard him right.

The line in between your eyebrows grew deeper as you frowned at him, because what the fuck did he mean he was going to wait? And, in addition, what the fuck did he mean he could be patient?

Joe had just followed you around the flat trying to provoke you into arguing – that’s essentially what he’d been trying to do. Bold of him to claim he could be patient.

You were in the shower together and you knew Joe was just trying to say nice things by ways of comforting you, probably. You hoped that was what was going on. But he was getting it so wrong.

“But…” you started, trying to both make sense of what Joe meant whilst simultaneously thinking of how to tell him he was dead wrong. “I’m right here.”

And you had been.

Joe was the one that left.

You remembered Joe telling you, “Yea, you’re not going anywhere.” in a tender moment when you were trying your best to comfort him for a change, and you’d reacted the same then. Of course you weren’t going to go anywhere. You were there.

Always there.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked a couple of times, and looked a little lost, face blank and unassuming.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait? Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…”

Doing?

You couldn’t finish the sentence and furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you, all earlier bravery gone, because it sounded a lot like a big confession that you’d not vocalized before, and what if you were wrong?

What if Joe was going to tell you that, actually, no, what you were saying was not what you had been doing at all, you stupid bitch.

He wouldn’t say that.

But that’s what it would feel like if you were wrong.

Your brain was swimming, thinking thoughts and trying to draw conclusions where there weren’t any to be drawn when suddenly, it all clicked into place for Joe.

He was such an idiot.

Before you knew what was happening, Joe had you shrieking. He’d bent at the knees, got both arms around your waist and picked you up. It was a cute celebratory thing, because whatever you’d said had been all Joe had wanted to hear for weeks. But it was also really fucking terrifying, because you were in a wet slippery bath and you both had wet slippery bodies and the only way Joe was centering his gravity was by his face that was smushed against your chest and this was exactly how sometimes people got bad concussions.

“Joe–” you squeaked from your throat, and you were about to swear at him. Tell him to put you down. That he was a fucking idiot. That he was stupid and that this was dangerous, despite the smile that was already playing at your face.

But then before you could get any of that out, Joe let you slip down and kissed you hard, right on the mouth. Your back bent away from him and had you disappear into the shower stream, but Joe just followed, hands squeezing your sides and his lips roughly pressed to yours, not willing to break contact.

You tried wrapping your head around how you got from trying your best not to cry to being kissed in the way that you were, already feeling drunk on the giggles you were swallowing, and it felt a little ridiculous.

And then Joe spoke through his kisses and said words you didn’t think you would ever accept from him.

“I love you.”

But actually, it was fine.

You were surprised how easily joy bubbled up from deep inside your gut at hearing him mumble his confession. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, but Joe kept his mouth right there.

“Joe,” you pushed him at the shoulders, and instead of moving away, Joe decided to move closer, feet squeaking against white acrylic. You got cornered until your back touched the tiles and you laughed as you turned your head to break the kiss.

Joe just followed, curled around and got you from the side and, “Joe!” you giggled, because there was water streaming straight into your face, and you knocked one of the shampoo bottles down into the bath, and Joe kept hogging your mouth and you needed that to breathe and– oh.

Joe was hard.

You felt it against your hip and Joe felt how it startled you slightly.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that,” you could hear how there was laughter stuck inside of his voice too, but there was something urgent there too.

“I love you. Did you hear me?” he bent to make eye contact, got your chin into his hand to force it. “I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

The wet words slipped out before your brain could even catch up to it, voice way softer than Joe’s, but you didn’t mean the words any less.

Somehow it was an easy thing to say. It helped that Joe said it first, so you were just parroting which didn’t feel half as embarrassing as you imagined it could have been.

Your words stilled Joe’s whole body, just for a moment, completely frozen, and then he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut and let his head fall, face first into your shoulder.

You grinned when you looked down and saw the direct effect of what you’d said.

Made you want to say it again.

“I love you too,” you made it sound extra breathy that time, not even sure if Joe would be able to hear it over the shower water clattering into the bath, but you could tell he caught the words fine from the way Joe’s knees gave out for a split second, dick jumping and already leaking.

You loved Joe.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him. You took your shot and bit right into his fingers as you smiled.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

Joe didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. You got him back in the best way; with wet kisses and with scraping teeth. With hands in his hair that you used to push him right against your face. With a leg that hiked itself up until your knee touched his hip, prompting Joe to get his hands under your ass, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall in an attempt to slip inside.

But all of it was too slippery.

Too wet.

And you were laughing too much to make it work.

So you kissed, with both feet sort of steady in the bath and let your hands touch bits of Joe that made him flinch.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

“I love you,” Joe said again like they were the only words he knew how to use now, dragging his lips down your throat, pressing kisses to your chest.

“I love you, too,” you replied, biting your teeth into your bottom lip whilst working both hands on him, using one underneath and making Joe gasp.

Joe kept trailing down more until he kneeled and you lost your grip on him. Without warning he pressed his whole face into you, and both your hands found his shoulders as you worriedly tried pushing him back.

“No, Joe,” you pushed until you could look him in the eye. “Stop, baby, you’ll drown.”

Baby.

Joe looked up at you and quirked his eyebrows as he smirked, both because you’d never called him baby before and because of the double entendre.

You meant that Joe could drown because you were in the shower and if his mouth was busy, surely he would end up inhaling the water that ran down your body until he’d fucking choke.

Joe, however, took it to mean something else.

And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

“I mean…” he started, making eye-contact with what was right in front of him. Pretty. Glistening. Dripping. Joe was about to say some stupid shit aloud, was about to say that he loved her, maybe even just as much as he loved you, because, Jesus Christ, he really fucking did.

“I’ll happily drown in you.” he got a small kiss in where he wanted to so desperately kiss you, but then you laughed and said, “No. No drowning today.” as you sunk down to your own knees, joining him sat down in the tub.

Joe easily accepted you, hands finding yours to help you down safely, happy to oblige and move to where you wanted him to be, which was sat on his arse where the water hit him overhead.

With his eyes barely open, he grinned widely as you moved to sit on his lap, one knee either side of him, arms slung around his neck. It was a tight fit and skin squeaked against the side of the tub. Joe thought that surely this couldn’t actually be nicer than him getting mouth on you, but, sure.

Your pace, remember?

Your lead.

“I love you,” you mouthed as you went in for open-mouthed kisses which Joe happily accepted, pulling you into him hard, trapping himself in between the two of you and starting quick little tilts of his hips. You helped by finding a rhythm of your own, rubbing over him and holding Joe as close as you could to add pressure where he was so clearly looking for it.

“I love you,” Joe breathed in reply, and they were barely even words at this point. Just wet vowels falling from a gasping mouth that tried telling you how good this already felt, and that he wasn’t even inside yet.

Joe’s lips tinged just as shiny red as the tip of him, and you weren’t sure if you were working up a sweat more now than you had during your run, but you knew that this activity was much preferred over the other.

When you finally lifted up just slightly more and used your fingers to line Joe up to slip inside, you saw how droplets of water spat from his lips as he mouthed a desperate, “Please.”

Joe didn’t need to beg.

But it was lovely when he did.

Made you stall, just to hear him say it again. Have him ask extra nicely.

You felt how Joe’s grip on your hips strengthened, fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.

“Please, please. Baby, please, can you–”

You sunk down onto him, making him disappear inside of you entirely. The loud moan that escaped you surprised Joe enough to move a panicked hand up to cover your mouth.

That just made you whine louder.

“Shh– shhh–,” Joe trembled through shushes, trying for eye-contact, “You can’t– you... you gotta be quiet. You...” Joe faltered, hand moving to hold you by the side of the face, fingers disappearing into wet strands that were then used to pull you in closer to kiss.

God, he fucking loved you so much.

Could you feel it? Could you feel how anguished he felt that he only had two hands to touch you with? Could you feel how feverish and lightheaded you made him feel? Could you feel how there was a deep craving inside of him that only you could satisfy for him?

He wanted you to feel it.

Feel his love.

Joe wanted you to feel how much he loved you, so he used his mouth where he could, and used his hands where he could, and he imagined how the water running down the two of you was getting rid of all the bullshit.

You were being cleansed of all the bad until there’d be only good left.

You were having sex in the bath until it’d be nothing but just love there.

You rode Joe in the bath until your knees starting hurting too much. Until the water than ran down both your faces became too annoying. Until your hands knocked all the other bottles of shampoo and conditioner into the bath behind Joe. Until Joe got too freaked out that he couldn’t shut you up, and wasn’t that an insane contrast to whatever he had been trying to do the night before?

You hadn’t minded Joe trying to get you to be loud.

But Joe trying to get you to stay quiet was infinitely better.

It made you want to be bratty about it. Be loud on purpose. Get those eyes to flare and bulge, wet lips shushing you, but otherwise doing nothing else to stop you from feeling good. Because ultimately, that’s all Joe wanted; for him to be the one to make you feel good.

When Joe came, he made a sticky mess of the side of the bath.

When you came, you made a sticky mess of Joe’s fingers.

You kissed for a while after then, stood up out of the direct surge of water, and you loved this. Loved kissing Joe as your brain slowly found its way back to reality. It was all soft touches and slow movements and a terrible waste of water, but you fucking loved it.

When you thought Joe reached behind to finally turn the shower off, you found he instead reached for a bottle of shampoo.

“Turn around.”

Joe made sure you felt it.

Felt how fucking loved you were.

Massaged your scalp with love in his finger tips.

Rinsed your hair out with love in his palm.

Towel dried you after with love in his arms.

You had never felt this taken care of before, and when Joe reached for your hairbrush, he was surprised to turn back and find two wet shimmering eyes staring back at him in the large still slightly fogged-up mirror.

“Hey,” he curled an arm around your front and you let a wet chuckle escape you. “You okay? What’s going on with you right now?”

You shrugged and felt silly as you looked at each other via the mirror. Joe pressed a kiss against your ear, and you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know, just love you, I guess.”

That made Joe push his forehead to the side of your skull as he bit his lips into his mouth.

“Oh no,” he softly said, wincing slightly before you could see him smile. The effect of those words hadn’t just gone and changed within the last hour, so it seemed.

“I love y–” you were cut off by a louder groan as Joe bent down, hinging at his hips, pushing his head into your ribs and you couldn’t help but laugh as you let your arm scratch up and down his back.

“Maybe,” Joe breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second in a bid to recompose himself. “Maybe don’t use those words for right now.”

“Got it.” you nodded. “No talking.”

That made Joe turn his head enough to see you smile in the mirror. Joe hadn’t just spent all morning to make you talk only for you to

“All right, no. That’s not what I said, I–” Joe moved to stand up straight again, and you saw your chance to make him double over again.

“I love you.”

“You– hnngg,” Joe had to turn and lean both elbows on the sink, head dropped down, having real trouble finding his breath.

“Tell you what,” you started, smile unable to be swiped from your face, and you grabbed Joe by his shoulders. “I’ll go make breakfast. Throw that pizza into the oven. We’ll have it on the sofa and then you can brush my hair after, all right?” you pressed a small kiss to his shoulder blade and wanted to say it again, just for fun, but decided you’d probably tortured him enough.

You tapped a shoulder to which Joe hummed and then went to leave the bathroom, turning around and unlocking the door.

“Hey,” Joe stopped you just before you walked out, and you looked over a shoulder to make eye contact with him in the mirror once again.

“Love you.” Joe’s constricted voice squeezed out, just because he couldn’t have you tell him three times and not say it back.

You smiled and used a hand to pretend to lock your lips up, making a breathy laugh escape Joe before he let his forehead drop into the crook of his elbow.

Loved you.

Joe loved you and he loved that you loved him. He just needed a minute.

You loved him.

That needed more than a second to acclimate to.

Your love.

He would so happily drown in it, you had no idea.

Perhaps, he should take the lead for just a little while. Make sure he was actually going to survive this.

His lead.

His time, maybe.

His pace, definitely.

But your love.

Always your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[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/Last Edited - September 6th, 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 Boys" - 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.

[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?

[astronicht]

whumptober day 1: “how many fingers am i holding up?”

(I wanna do some of these for as long as i’m feeling it as a kind of fic amnesty! get back into the swing of writing without pressure u know! it might be exactly two it might be literally just this one who knows!)

F1 rpf | max/daniel | figure skating AU | 1.5k, rated T

(mild cw for an injured kid)

The coach is a fucking joke. He’s across the lobby from Max, who is tying his sleek black skates and waiting for Christian to show up in about thirty minutes, clutching a coffee even though he’s woken up at 4AM for the last forty years.

The coach nervously leans close to a little girl sitting on the benches in her skates, her boots and blades wet with slush. She has a sleek high ponytail and still has her bum pad strapped on over her leggings to break falls and a closed-off look on her little face. The coach says, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Jackass. He’s obviously a competitive skater working as a coach part-time because he looks all of nineteen, but that doesn’t fucking matter. He’s the coach. He should know better. Max’s hands feel clumsy on his laces. He’s probably going to have to— Or the mum—

As Max is scanning the little crowd of parents at the tables, the door to the rink swings open with a blast of cool wet air and Daniel strides in. He’s got new boots on, Max realizes numbly. Daniel and the little girl are also wearing the same brand of leggings, hers in miniature. She is probably seven years old.

“Hey, you took a spill, huh?” Daniel says, because if he was on the ice he’d have seen it. He’s walking a little gingerly, slush sluicing off his blades onto the rubber floor; his feet are probably rubbed bloody inside the stupid new Jackson Ultimas.

Max gets up, walks over. Daniel sees him and seems surprised, or maybe Max is imagining it. Max does not say anything. He squats on his toepicks in front of the little girl, ignores the stupid fucking coach. Daniel says, “Oh, uh— Max is just gonna do a little concussion check, yeah?” Daniel doesn’t ignore the coach at all, smiles at him, says something, but he does somehow dismiss him a little. It’s easy to see, to Max, that Daniel was coached by Christian for a long time.

Max looks at the girl. She stares back, jaw tight. He tells her, “No counting, only follow my finger with your eyes. And now you talk to me, okay? Explain exactly what happened.”

The girl hesitantly starts to describe the double loop that led to the back of her skull smacking into the ice. Max moves his finger to her left, to her right. Her words are in the right order, not slurred, but her eyes judder a little following his hand.

“Daniel, give me your phone.” Max says, squinting at the girl and sticking his hand up. Daniel’s warm hip is right next to him, shifting as Daniel fidgets, his phone probably in his fleece because he never leaves it on the boards unless he’s on the ice. Daniel hesitates, maybe, but then his cold phone is being fumbled into Max’s waiting hand. His lock screen is some fucking beach, screen protector clouding up under Max’s warm fingertips. Daniel does not even like the beach that much. Max taps to make the flashlight come on from the lockscreen and tries to ignore Daniel relaxing beside him, like he didn’t want Max to be nosy about his stupid life.

Daniel does get three incoming texts while Max is watching the girl’s pupils react to the light, flinching down to a point the way they are supposed to. But maybe a little slow. Max frowns. It is all normal for skating, injuries and concussions alike, but it makes him feel a little sick, sometimes, when it’s the little ones. He doesn’t practice around kids that often anymore, but then again, if she’s here this seven-year-old is probably thinking about breaking into juniors, probably very serious.

The girl’s mum comes in through the other set of doors, the ones leading to the rest of the rink, the other sheets of ice that Max normally rents privately for a few hundred dollars an hour — a little cheaper in euros. Someone must have texted her; one of the other mums at the tables by the window to the rink, probably, not the coach who is almost hiding behind Daniel while Max takes care of his fucking student. Max should charge him.

Max straightens up and says to the mum, but looking out at the rink through the windows, “She has hit her head. I am of course not her coach so I cannot tell you what to do. She is not confused now but some of her reactions are a little slow.” He swallows. “So yes you could of course get her checked out at a clinic.”

The woman turns to the useless coach and starts asking questions. Max looks at the kid. “Okay, good job,” he says. “Take a break, try not to fall on your head like this.” Then he walks back to his seat. He looks down at his skates again. He can’t find his gloves.

A rustle and a shadow in the fluorescent lights: Daniel is coming to sit beside him on the cold plastic bench. Daniel sighs. It is early but he looks more tired than an early morning. He only got one Grand Prix invitation this year. The girl and her mum are gone, the doors swinging shut. Max swallows. It is normal, but also he hopes the mum takes the girl to the doctor today, just to see.

“Alright?” says Daniel, almost warily. “Doctor Maxy.”

Max rolls his eyes at him, says, “It is so annoying. Of course a head hit rattles you, so it is hard to tell when it is real.”

“Well, this time she’s definitely fucking concussed,” Daniel says, rubbing his face.

“Oh. Did you tell her mum?” Max asks, surprised. He watches his own hands clench on his knees. His gloves are in the side pocket of his skate bag like always, he realizes. He doesn’t reach for them yet.

Daniel blinks at him, eyes wide, shadows under them a delicate purple. “I… yeah, I told her what the kid said: that she'd blacked out when she hit her head for a second? Any time you black out, it’s a concussion, right? I don’t know if the mum like, knows that.” He squints at the doors. “Cunt of a useless coach though.”

“No it’s not always a concussion,” Max corrects. The girl did say that, he remembers, when he was making her talk so he could test how she spoke. “Blacking out for a second when you hit? Then I would've had dozens as a kid.” Daniel shifts beside him, laughs a nervous little laugh. His head is in his hands. “I have had enough already, my brain would be mush, Daniel. Anyway it is not even the real test, the finger and the eyes thing and the talking. It is just a DUI test. Geri did it to you once, I remember, at Cup of China 2017? I asked what it was because I of course had not seen it and she said she used to party pretty hard, run into problems with friends sometimes, and she thought it had to be about the same.”

Daniel rubs his face again. “Was I concussed?” he asks. “In 2017?”

“Yes, I think so. But it is hard to tell.”

“No, I remember, I skated in that competition.”

Max shrugs. “You won the gold, then I beat you at Skate America two weeks later.”

“Shit, yeah. I remember now. Yeah.” Daniel tips his head back. On the tvs above the rink doors, the receptionist is playing YouTube videos of last year’s Grand Prix series instead of the rink sponsorship reel. It looks like Italy, the senior pairs event. Max watches Sui Wenjing get thrown through the air in a near-perfect twist, land on one edge of one blade like a sharp and flying thing. He has always wondered what it feels like, to land something from six feet in the air. No matter how high he can get his quads, his triples, he of course skates singles.

Max can smell Daniel’s cologne, which he is wearing at 5:03 AM, his sweat, the stiff leather of his awful new boots. “Well, gotta get back out there,” Daniel says. “These babies won’t break themselves in.”

They both look at Daniel’s new boots, which are probably full of Daniel’s blood for no reason, because Max doesn’t think his old ones were really broken or that bad or whatever. His coach probably told him to switch. Max switches boots when he needs to, always knows when to judge it, always gives himself the full summer before the competition season to break them in and let them tear him up a bit.

“Okay,” Max rasps. “Say hi to Lando for me. Try to land your Salchow.”

Daniel stands with his hand on Max’s hair, ruffles it and shoves Max, making him laugh. The clenching thing in his chest releases a little.

“Don’t bump your noggin,” Daniel says quietly, rapping his hand on Max’s head, gentle.

“Too late,” Max jokes.

Max stays sitting there for a minute after Daniel gets back on the ice, trying to wait out the rush of adrenaline, his heart still slamming like it was him who fucked up a loop, like it was his pale mother at the swinging doors.

—

concept brought to u by me in @/garagegremlin’s texts like OKAY they’re like all singles skaters but max has the heart of a pairs girl

[blacktofade]

Gemtho Fortnight Day 4

Prompt: rpf with the hermits talking casually about fics and someone (maybe bdubs) is like "man there's barely any fics about me and etho anymore they're only writing about him and gem" (or whatever. just so the topic comes up) but gem has such a hugeeee crush and she's so flustered and embarrassed and doesn't want etho to be uncomfortable and meanwhile etho's worried about /gem/ being uncomfortable

cw: rpf

“You know,” Bdubs starts, and Gem can almost picture his expression behind his computer screen — thoughtful, a little sly. “I don’t think they ship me and Etho like they used to.”

Gem’s elbow slips off her desk, her character in-game suddenly looking straight down at the ground, and she can hear the soft exhale of laughter Bdubs lets out, like he’s noticed.

She wonders if she can get away with pretending she never heard, if she can say Winnie got loose and distracted her and, oh, look at the time, she has to go for a thing she promised someone else —

“What are you saying about me?” Etho suddenly asks, his voice in her left ear as he moves closer, and Gem takes her hand off her keyboard to cover her eyes with one palm, face burning as she tries her best to silently beg the universe for mercy.

There’s no such luck.

“Do you remember that lecture I gave you about Dark Twitter?” Bdubs asks, and she can hear it in his voice, how he’s almost laughing, delighted at the opportunity to shit-stir. “Y’know, the shipping stuff that fans do? Pretending that we’re in love.”

Gem’s next best hope is that the ground will open and swallow her. 

“Bdubs,” she warns, because she might not be streaming, but that doesn’t mean that no one else is. Anyone could fly by and catch a snippet of what he’s saying, and she can only imagine the fallout online if that happens.

“It’s fine, Gem. Etho knows all about it, don’t you?”

She’s not worried about Etho.

“I, uh,” Etho starts and she can tell by his tone that he already regrets showing up and interrupting them.

“It’s okay,” Bdubs interrupts. “All you need to know is that Gem’s your new love interest.”

“Gem’s my new what?”

The head of Etho’s character swivels to stare right at her and Gem suddenly finds herself needing to pace in-game, her fingers tapping at the keys nervously as she parkours across the terrain around them.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Gem lies and now Bdubs is staring at her too.

“I mean, it’s not surprising with the amount you two hang out together now. I happened to think the footage of you both digging the tunnel between your bases was cute.”

“Was it?” Gem questions, hoping that acting clueless will save her instead, but Bdubs hums quietly, like she won’t like what’s about to come out of his mouth.

“You keep saying you’re an Ethogirl, right? That you grew up watching him. It’s a cute match-up.”

Gem thinks about pulling the ethernet cable straight out the back of her desktop. It would be easy to blame it on a power-outage.

“I think you’re confusing fact and fiction again,” she mutters and Bdubs laughs.

“Oh, you’re right!” he says, too chipper for his own good. “It sounded like I was suggesting you two date in real life.”

Etho makes a noise, like a grunt of surprise, and Bdubs finally turns his view away from her to stare at him instead.

“Though, I mean, you’re both in Canada, right? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Bdubs apparently doesn’t know when to quit.

“Have you thought about dating Impulse?” Gem snaps, and Bdubs laughs before she even finishes the thought. “You’re both in the States. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Even Etho joins in, almost like his laughter slips out without permission. “She’s got you there, Bdubs.”

“If Impulse asked me out, I would be a perfect gentleman,” Bdubs tells them, and Gem has a headache brewing that might put her on the couch for the rest of the day. “How many bases do you think he’d let me round after one date?”

“I’m going,” Gem says suddenly, because if there was ever an out, that’s it. “You two can talk about Bdubs’ romantic exploits, but I have stuff to build.”

Bdubs laughs, but doesn’t try to argue, apparently done with his teasing, and Gem can almost taste freedom.

Until Etho says, “I’m sure a date with Gem wouldn’t be the worst I’ve been on.”

And Gem logs off.

[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.

[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!