hyperpopelinnn - Tumblr blog

hyperpopelinnn · 2 months ago

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Glimpse of us

!!!!WARNING! RPF BELOW!!!!

Pairing: Joost x fem Reader

Description: You and Joost used to date, but the relationship ended - badly. You hooked up a few times after the breakup, but then he ghosted you. You realize you might be a little more in love than he is.

Author's note: Writing this i was inspired by my own toxic ex, and it was very hard to find a pic that fit... Joost just doesn't look as a toxic ex at all. Every pic gives off labrador boyfriend energy. This and the second part will be very introspective so prepare for that!

Warnings: alcohol, angst, kinda asshole Joost?

Word Count: 5,6 k

Part: 1/4

You open the window and let the summer air spill in. For the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels… okay.

Yesterday marked something small but huge: you didn’t cry. You didn’t even lie down and think about everything you have lost. You didn’t spend hours second-guessing your decision, and that was a huge step.

You breathe in deeply, and head to the kitchen to get some breakfast.

Still, somewhere deep inside, you know this peace is fragile. Maybe it’s only here because he’s on tour busy enough to forget you - or at least too far away to reach you, sleeping in a different city every night. He had that habit - only loving you when you’re physically there.

You shouldn’t worry about this now. You’ve been doing so well not letting you mind go that way. You can keep it that way. Just stay in this morning, without letting him take up any more space. Maybe, day by day, it will get better and that history between the two of you will be just a blurred memory from the past, and you will be the same person you were before all of this mess happened. You smile a little as you pull things from the fridge. There’s still a long way to go to, you know that. But everything is slowly falling into place. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that the universe might have a plan for you. A good plan.

You even started making small adjustments - stepping back into life, meeting new people, letting go a little and maybe - just maybe - there’s someone out there who could make you forget about Joost.

The doubts still creep in anyway. They always do. You spent so long convincing yourself he was it. The one. No one would ever come close. And even now, it’s hard to imagine anyone making you feel the way he did. But you push the doubts away. It will never change if you don’t at least give it a chance.

Besides, everything that happened between you and Joost should have closed that door completely. After all the things you said to each other, all the fights, the screaming, the nights you wished you’d never met him - there’s no way back.

There was never a guy that made you feel so good. But there was never a guy that made you feel so bad either.

And you know - you know - the only word for it is toxic.

You shake the thoughts from your head. It’s a pattern you know too well - the constant analyzing of every moment, every feeling, as if it could somehow save you. You’ve always struggled to just let it be - to let life flow without dissecting every possible outcome your choices might create.

Your phone vibrates.

Clara: “Ready for today? :)”

You take a glance on your phone and smile to yourself. When Clara and the other girls told you about the rooftop party, you knew right away - this could be it. A “launch” party for your new life.

And to your surprise, you feel absolutely ready for that.

Maybe it’s genuine. Or maybe you just miss the rush - adrenaline that the highs and lows of your relationship with Joost used to bring.

Either way, you don’t want to open that door. Not now. Not today.

You type out a quick reply - Yes, absolutely - and set your phone down beside your fresh breakfast. You already know what you are going to wear tonight, and you can hardly wait for your friends to come over for pre-drinks, just as you agreed.

You used to love nights out. But somewhere along the way - between the mess of your love life and chaos of everything changing - staying at home started to feel safer.

At home there were no uncomfortable questions to answer, no chance of running into Joost’s friends, and most importantly - no drunk texts sent at 2 a.m. that would ruin your life for weeks afterward.

But you knew you couldn’t hide forever. Being alone was a straight road to overthinking.

This time, though, it’s going to be different.

You can feel it.

“The party is here” - those are the first words you hear from Clara’s mouth as you open the front door to see her. Her grin wide and infectious.

The party is, in fact, here. You can’t deny that that she is the heart and soul of the party.

"The party is late, as always” - you tease, smiling as you kiss her on the cheek.

You didn’t expect anything different - she’s always late, which drives all of your dutch friends crazy. The other two friends of yours are already there, sitting on the couch and drinking cocktails.

You both head back to the living room and you make her a drink without even asking what she wants. You know her that well.

“So, looking forward to anything special today, ladies?” - she asks.

This woman never wastes time. You’re pretty sure she’s the one with something special on her mind - probably the real reason she even started the conversation. And you’re eager to hear the details.

Your other friend, Victoria starts talking about a guy that she met through a dating app. They’ve already gone on a few dates and he mentioned he’ll probably be at the party tonight. For now, he made a good impression and she says she has a good feeling about him.

You wonder if you will ever be able to meet someone new without the urge to constantly compare him to Joost.

You are on the right path, right? You’re getting there - and today it is a big step. You might not be completely over it, but hey, who is? And what’s a better way to get over someone than to meet someone new?

Seven months have passed since you two broke up, but it’s only been less than two months since the last time you saw him. After a night together, you were the one to message him, but he never replied.

The time between the breakup and then going fully no-contact was the most intense and difficult time of your life. You both decided that it was for the best to end It - the constant fighting, the inability to meet each other’s needs. But you never really stopped having feeling for each other.

At least you never stopped having feelings for him. His mind was a big puzzle you could never solve. You spent so many sleepless nights wondering: Did he truly care about you? Was he ready to be with you? Or was he just playing with you, keeping you close, knowing you were completely in love with him?

Even now, you still don’t know the answer.

“What about Joost? Did he stop writing you?” - Clara asks you, her eyes piercing through you. You can’t lie - she has this weird way of seeing through you, peeling away everything you’ve tried to keep hidden.

“Yeah… He’s on tour, I guess. I don’t know. I am trying to think about it less.” - you answer, your voice calmer than you’d expect.

You leave out the part where you were the one to reach out last, sending that message that never got answered. Really, the question should be whether you stopped writing him - but Clara doesn’t need to know that.

The silence from him that day… it sent you into a spiral. A whole day in bed, crying, overwhelmed by the fear of losing him for good and the shame of still longing for someone who clearly wasn’t as invested.

She doesn’t have to know that either. At the end of the day, you tell yourself - it’s not a lie. You’re just not saying the whole truth.

“Good choice” - she smiles.

She can see on your face that you are not really in the mood to talk about it, and you know she absolutely agrees. She’s told you a billion times that he should stay in the past.

You spent enough time venting about him to her and your other friends. You know their advice by heart: break up with him, go no contact, do everything you can to forget him and start a new life.

But they do not know the way he knows your body - how he is able to drive you to the edge and make you feel like nobody else ever has. They don’t know the deep conversations at 3 a.m., the way he could make you open and talk about things you never thought you could say out loud, they don’t know your inside jokes, they don’t know how you understand each other without words.

But they do know the other side - the crying, the breakdowns, the way you felt like you were losing your mind from the mixed signals, the sudden silences, the way he pushed you away over nothing whenever his insecurities got the better of him.

It was too much. When it was good it was really good. But when it was bad… it was unbearable. Maybe you two were just never meant to fit - his mood swings, your sensitivity, crashing into each other over and over.

Oh, but you wanted him to be the one so badly.

You know how toxic your thinking is, but you can’t help it, he is a drug, but he’s your favorite drug.

The drug you’re quitting - you remind yourself, pulling your thoughts back before they spiral too far.

“So, mission for tonight: find a nice guy for Y/N.” Vitoria says as the others nod in agreement.

“Calm down, girls… I am not saying no, but I don’t want to force anything.” You laugh. “You know it usually doesn’t end well when you try to hard. Besides, I’m still pretty hurt and cautious after the last… relationship. So, no rush”

You take a few sips of the cocktail, and fix your hair, glancing at the clock. It’s getting late and you should be heading out soon. You feel a wave of excitement - one you haven't felt in a long time. You have a feeling that something good might happen tonight, and honestly, you are all in for it.

You spend the next hour drinking, and laughing, Clara is telling a story of the DJ at the party she likes and she can’t wait to see, and Lena talking about the vacation she just took with her boyfriend.

God, you’re lucky. Lucky to have friends like this - girls who are supportive, who listen without judgement, even when you were losing your mind over Joost.

You know you could just as easily go to dinner, visit an art gallery, catch a concert but or have a drunken night in the club with them - and they would still be right there, no questions asked. Your friends are real ride-or-dies, and whatever happens, you know they are here to stay.

You finally order an Uber, and you all head to the location together. To your relief, the weather is perfect - no rain, no wind. You’d been worried, as always in Amsterdam, that the rain and the cold might ruin the party, leaving you either stuck at home or scrambling last-minute to find another club you don’t even like, wasting your time and money. But tonight, the universe seems to be on your side.

The guards at the door let you in without a problem, and you ride the elevator up.

The place looks amazing - small lights everywhere, casting a soft glow over everything. The Amsterdam skyline glimmers in the night - familiar rooftops, canals and narrow streets wrapped in the city light.

A large group is already dancing in the middle of the dance floor, while smaller groups gather around high, white tables, sipping cocktails and laughing. It feels like a party out of a movie, and you’re so glad you didn’t talk yourself out of coming.

“Come on, let’s get a drink” Lena says, tugging you toward the bar, and you follow.

The tall guys at the bar glance your way, a few holding their gaze a little longer than necessary - and you’re really glad you decided to dress up tonight. Everyone looks so stylish - it feels like they organized a meet up for the most attractive people in the city.

You look around, and spot at least a few guys who catch your eye. You also glance toward the dj, curious if he’s as cute as Clara promised. He isn’t exactly your type, but you can definitely see what she sees in him.

You lean against the side of the bar, sipping your whiskey sour, while your friends are still waiting for their drinks - when a tall guy steps toward you.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt - I just wanted to tell you that you look absolutely stunning.” - he says, and you turn your head to look at him.

He’s tall with light brown hair and green eyes. His smile is infectious.

There’s something boyish about him - maybe it’s the way he’s dressed, a little casual for the crowd - but it’s charming, not sloppy. You find yourself smiling back without even thinking. He’s pretty cute. And it’s just a conversation, you remind yourself. A first step toward moving on.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” - you say, leaning in so he can hear you over the loud music.

“Do you live here in Amsterdam?” he asks quickly, and you can tell your answer gave him a little boost of courage. Good. He seems like a decent guy - and most importantly, he doesn’t give you the instant creep vibes.

You tell him, with a smile that yes, you live here now - though you originally came for a student exchange a few years ago and ended up loving the city too much to leave.

You leave out the part about Joost - the real reason you decided to stay after falling in love with him, figuring it’s probably not the best idea to bring up an ex in the first conversation.

He goes on to tell you that he’s from the Netherlands, but from a smaller city. He moved to Amsterdam to work in the entertainment industry and he’s enjoying it so far. There’s something easy about talking to him. He seems nice, easygoing, and - most importantly - not weird at all, which helps you loosen up a little. Even if you never never see this guy again, it’s a step in the right direction. You feel proud of yourself.

“Did you come here alone?” - you ask, a little surprised by the lack of company.

As much as you were enjoying talking to him, you also wanted to spend the night with your girlfriends.

“No” he smiles “Well… kind of. I came alone but I’m waiting for my friends - they should be here any minute…” he glances over your shoulder. “Actually… I think that’s them now.”

He waves his hand toward the entrance and you turn around, curious if his friends are as cute as he is - maybe you could introduce them to your girls.

You freeze. It’s as if your body forgets how to move, how to breathe. There he is. Blonde hair in that perfectly messy way, dark t-shirt, black jeans, glasses. You would recognize him anywhere - in the biggest crowd, in a dream, in a memory you don’t even want anymore. You see his face in half of the guys you pass on the street. But none of them are him.

And now, he’s here. Laughing at something his friend says, his laugh is so heartbreakingly familiar it makes your stomach twist. You, on the other hand, are the last person who feels like laughing. Your knees go weak, your eyes widen.

How?

How is it possible that the second you try to move on, to have one night where he isn’t clinging into your every thought - he appears? It’s like he has a radar, always sensing the exact moment you might finally be okay.

He turns his head and waves toward the guy you’re talking to - but then he sees you. His smile fades, and his eyes widen in shock. He definitely didn’t expect to see you either.

You think about running, but it is too late. And even if you tried, your legs are heavy as stone. You see his face shift - quickly covering up the reaction, pretending you haven’t shaken him. You try to fix your own face too, but you can feel the panic sticking to you, like heat on a summer day. It feels like it’s 200 degrees in here, and you are burning alive.

“So… You didn’t tell me your name” the green-eyed guy says, turning to you - and for a second you forget how to speak. He must sense your emotions, because he looks at you with a touch of concern. You shake your head quickly, and say:

“Y/N” You try to smile, but you know it’s not convincing. You bite the inside of your cheek. Why did you come here? Why did you ever think you were ready for this?

“So guys, this is Y/N” he says, still cheerful, as he turns toward his friends. "And these are…”

“We met before” Joost cuts in, his voice low. His voice is cool, but you can feel the weight of his stare pressing down on you.

You keep your eyes fixed anywhere but on him. You know what you’ll find if you look. All those feelings you tried so hard to bury start clawing their way back to the surface, raw and intense. One look, and you’ll break. You haven’t forgotten. You haven’t forgotten, even for a second, that he left your last message hanging in silence.

“Oh really? Where? You didn’t tell me you have such beautiful friends” the green-eyes guy says, nudging Joost lightly.

You almost groan at his words. Perfect. Just perfect. You can already picture Joost throwing that sentence back in your face during the fight you know is inevitable.

Who were you trying to fool? You’re not over him, not even close. The way your whole body reacted at just seeing him tonight was proof enough. You glance at Joost, silently begging him with your eyes not to make a scene, not to say something that will set everything on fire. You feel dangerously close to crying now. The pressure behind your eyes, the tightness in your throat.

Joost looks at you for a long second, something unreadable flashing across his face. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it terrifies you. Finally, he says:

“She’s an old friend of mine” his voice casual, a little too casual for your liking.

The word friend cuts through your skin like a knife, but you know there was nothing else he could have said in that moment. But it sill feels like betrayal. Your legs feel heavy, and you start desperately searching for an excuse to leave, to run away from this nightmare, but the shock of him being here doesn’t help - you can’t think straight.

“Sorry guys, we need her” - you hear Clara’s voice, and then you feel her hands gripping your shoulders, steering you away from the group. “It’s an emergency!” She calls back, as the others - everyone except Joost - look after you in confusion.

Her fingers dig into your skin, grounding you, pulling you back to yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ” she whispers under her breath as you hurry across the rooftop.

The bathroom is packed, so instead she guides you toward an empty table tucked away on the side, where the music is softer and you can actually breathe again.

“What the HELL was that?” She says, her voice sharp. “Did you know he was going to be there?” Her accusatory tone needles at you, and you’re pretty sure she’s about to drill holes through your arms with her fingers.

“Do i LOOK like I knew?” you snap back, louder than you mean to. “Do you think I would’ve been standing there talking to that guy if I had any idea?”

You run your fingers through your hair, trying to calm yourself down, trying to think of a way out of this mess.

“I don’t know how the hell this keeps happening. It’s like he has some fucking radar or something. Every time I start to think I deserve better, every time I try to move on, he shows up. Wasn’t he supposed to be on tour or something?”

The anger starts rising in you - but so does the disappointment.

And as usual, disappointment wins.

You’re angry at yourself for still caring, for still reacting that way. But worse than the anger is that tiny, pathetic hope inside you, still craving his attention. You still wanted him to chase you. You still wanted him to choose you. And you hate yourself for it.

“Let’s just go home.” You say finally, exhausted and defeated.

“No, Y/N. No way. We are NOT doing that. You can’t just keep running away. You’re not a coward. You’re not.” she gives your arms a small shake and stares right into your eyes, willing you to believe her. "Just go back there and ignore him. Act like he doesn’t even exist. I saw you tonight - you were happy, ready for something new. Don’t let him take that away from you. Please. You’re so much better than that.”

You know she is right. You really do. But you also know yourself - and the combination of Joost, a party and alcohol has never, ever ended well for you.

Still, the girls had been looking forward for this night for so long. You don’t want to be the one who ruins it, who makes everything about you again.

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll stay” you say, your voice a little unconvincing, but you mean it - or at least you want to.

Clara grabs your hand and squeezes it.

“Are you ready to go back?”

You aren’t ready, but you know you’ll never be, so you nod. You glance at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair, reapplying a bit of lip gloss, and let Clara take your hand. She leads you through the thick crowd on the dance floor, the music pulsing through your chest.

“I know exactly what you need” she says when you reach the bar.

But before you can answer a voice cuts through the silence, hitting a nerve and reopening every wound.

“Clara. Long time no see”

He’s there - casually leaning against the bar like he owns the place. He’s speaking to Clara, but his gaze flickers past her, straight to you. You immediately turn away, refusing to meet his eyes. You know what he is doing. This was always his game - trying to reel you back in, whether it ended in a fight or in his bed. You focus on the bar, the glasses, the endless flicker of lights, pretending he isn’t there, pretending you don’t still crave the smallest scrap of his attention.

“Yeah” Clara snaps. “Let’s not change that.”

Joost chuckles under his breath - low, amused - but you see the flicker of irritation cross his face.

“Woah, no need to be so harsh with me”

“I’m here with my friends, we’re having a girls’ night. Can you give us that?” She says, turning fully to him, staring him down. “And if you’re going to talk to me, look at me. No need to look at her.” she tilts her head subtly toward you.

You stay silent, watching the scene unfold. Part of you feels Clara might be coming down a little too hard - after all he didn’t cheat, he didn’t lie. It wasn’t a clear villain story. You know the mess between you two had blame on both sides. But deep down you also know you fought for him - you tried.

And he didn’t. So maybe, just maybe, he deserves every part of that coldness now.

"Fine. She’ll text me later anyway” he shrugs, and turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

You sigh, frustrated with his behavior. Classic Joost - feeling uncomfortable, rejected, so he throws something provocative and hurtful flipping the shame onto you instead of just leaving with dignity.

You will write him anyway? What is that supposed to mean?

Except, you know exactly what that’s supposed to mean - and worse, you know he’s not wrong. Because you have written to him - countless times, late at night, drunk or brokenhearted, begging him to come and see you. And he did - almost every time. And you did the same.

You remember it all too well: sometimes it was a text at midnight, sometimes a call at two a.m. - and you without thinking, throwing a hoodie over your pajamas, sneaking out into the night. You were desperate to feel him, even if only for a few hours. For a little while it felt perfect - like nothing bad had ever happened between you. There were sweet words, whispered promises, nights where you almost believed it could work.

But it always unraveled by morning - swearing, fighting and accusations. Still, even if it ended in pieces, you kept choosing the few hours with him over the endless emptiness without him. You never hated the heartbreak as much as you hated the silence.

Joost walks away, and you sigh again. You keep telling yourself it’s okay - you can handle it, you can just ignore him. But with every glance in his direction, with every word he throws into the air, it feels like it’s getting worse, not better.

“Are you ok?” Clara asks, slipping her arm protectively around your shoulders. "Maybe I was a little too harsh, but we can’t have him thinking that he can just walk back into your life… again… Come on, Y/N. You can’t let him treat you like that. He shouldn’t be speaking to you like that - no matter what happened between you two.” Then she turns to the bartender, lifting four fingers. “Four tequila shots please”

“Four?” You blink at her, half-laughing “Are you trying to kill me?”

You know that Joost and alcohol in one place is a dangerous cocktail. But then again, without alcohol, this whole night might become unbearable.

You watch as the bartender lines up four small shot glasses, putting a slice of lemon on top of each one. The thoughts are boiling inside your head, and you pray that tequila will help you ease your mind - or at least steer your thoughts somewhere more pleasant.

You move to the dance floor. Lena and Victoria join you, one of them pulling along with the guy she had been talking about earlier. You try to loosen up, let the music carry you, but your mind keeps drifting back to him.

Your eyes keep scanning the crowd again and again, searching for that familiar messy blonde hair. You spot him a few times - always surrounded by his friends, laughing, drinking. At least, you think, he hasn’t caught you staring yet. You’re thankful that he didn’t show up with a girl… or hasn’t found one yet. You know that if you saw his hands on someone else, it would feel like a knife twisting inside your heart.

You don’t even know if he’s been with other women since you two parted ways. You don’t want to think about it, because the mere thought of him having sex with someone else makes you feel like ripping your heart out.

"Stop thinking about him” Clara says in your ear, her voice full of concern.

If only it were that simple. You’ve been trying for the last few months, with absolutely no success.

“I’m going to the bathroom” you reply.

None of the girls follow you, and you hurry to the bathroom, but halfway there, you realize what you really need is a moment to gather your thoughts. You turn instead toward the smokers’ area - where the music fades into a distant hum and you can finally breathe.

You don’t smoke, not really, but part of you considers asking someone for a cigarette. Maybe it would help to settle your nerves.

For now, you stand alone, gazing over the city. The cold brushes against your skin as you take in the Amsterdam skyline, trying to recognize familiar roofs. The sky is already soft with grey - the kind that signals dawn is just moments away. Summer nights here are short in this city.

The quiet is comforting. For a moment, the chaos in your head begins to settle.

“So i was gone for two months, and you are already hitting on my friend?” You hear a voice behind you and you nearly choke. You hadn’t even notice him approach.

You turn around and meet his gaze, and the words catch in your throat. You try to stay calm.

“I did not hit on him. And not that it’s any of your business” you aim for a harsh tone, trying to sound determined, but you know the words are shaky. He’ll notice it - the vulnerability you’re trying so hard to bury.

“It’s not?” His voice smooth, almost too calm, as he stays behind you, and you can feel the tension building between you. “I’m not sharing you with anyone” he adds, his fingers brushing lightly against your elbow.

You quickly pull your arm away and turn to face him, the words hanging between you.

It’s sick and twisted, but you can’t deny it - your heart races when he says that. The possessiveness in his voice turns you on. God, how pathetic. How could you still feel this way after everything? At least he can’t hear the thoughts running through your mind.

“You’re not sharing me with anyone because I’m not yours” you say, looking him in the eyes.

You feel your heart beating like crazy. Why does he always have this effect on you? How does he do it, every single time, without even trying?

“Is that so?” His voice is low, his face is just inches away, his eyes locked on yours. You want to look away, break the connection, but somehow you hold firm. Despite everything - the anger, the resentment, the betrayal - there’s something else simmering underneath it all. The sexual tension between you two is undeniable.

You hate him. But, God, You want him.

If only it was simpler, if only he wasn’t so complicated, maybe you could just give in, without a heartache. You know the pleasure he’s capable of giving you, and part of you wants to let go and surrender completely. But you don’t.

“Yes.” You answer, and then without another word you turn and walk away, pushing your way through the crowd. You forget about the bathroom, forget about everything except the need to get away from him.

The only thing on your mind is reaching the bar - the only place that feels like an escape, even if it’s just for a moment.

Why can’t it ever go your way, just once? Why can’t the universe cut you a break and let you forget about him just for a second? Are you cursed, destined to drown in this toxic love that’s already taken so much from you? Why does he always show up, even when he’s the last person you want to see?

“Y/N” - you hear Clara’s voice. “I was looking for you” the moment she sees your face, she knows something is wrong. “That motherfucker. What did he say this time?”

You swallow, trying to push down the feelings. You just want to pretend that he didn’t get under your skin again.

“It’s nothing. He didn’t do anything.” That is not entirely true. But you don’t want to burden her with the truth - not yet, anyway.

"Don’t you DARE leave with him tonight.” She says firmly, locking eyes with you. She grabs your wrist tightly. "And I mean it. You’ve made so much progress, you’re feeling better, you can’t throw all of that away!” She studies your face and already sees it - the hesitation, the weakness. “I know you love him. Believe me, i do. I see it in the way you your eyes flicker when you look at him, or when you say his name. I don’t think he is a bad person either. I know he’s been though a lot, I know sometimes he doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you. And yeah… I know he loves you too. But how many times are you going to put yourself through this? You can’t live like this. Always scared. Always waiting for the moment he’ll leave or disappear for days, or decide to break up with you and then change his mind like nothing happened.” She squeezes your hands. “That sex? It’s not worth it. Even that love is not worth it. Please… just once, choose yourself, not him.”

You are nodding all the time while she is speaking. You know all of it, and you agree with every word she says. And tin that moment, you make a choice - you won’t fall back into that cycle - not again. As much as you want to, as much as you BOTH want to, you know it doesn’t lead anywhere. It doesn’t have a future. And you promised yourself - you don’t want anything anymore that doesn’t have a future.

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