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guiltyfemcel · 1 month ago

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Truth or dare?

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Roomate! Hamzah x fem! reader

✶ You and your roommate Hamzah throw a house party in celebration of his channels milestones. But how long does it take for you to really learn why they call it “liquid courage”?

✶ Tags: MDNI,Rpf smut, Alcohol consumption, dry humping, cunnilingus (both ways lol), facials, panty stealing!

✶ A/n: guys this is the longest fic ive written so far!idk what happened i just kept going but i hope you enjoy. Also this is my first time writing smut so please lmk how it is <3

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3

6.7k words

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Hamzah’s voice cut through the colorful cacophony of sound in your shared living room. The room was dressed up with streamers and balloons, almost every surface was covered with half empty solo cups and paper plates smeared with cake icing. The coffee table was the most cluttered, featuring a mangled cake that used to say “happy 900k”.

This party really was an excuse for you to get Hamzah to interact with other people in a casual setting again. You were close with him and loved his company of course but everyone needs a break after pouring so much into one project. The sun had long set at this point, the constant flow of drinks keeping the atmosphere warm and loose. There was an array of different liqueurs that was brought by your friends and goddamn was it being put to use.

Six people sat around the room, the merriment was palpable as they played a drinking game. You were honestly nervous when Martin suggested a drinking game, more nervous when he said “truth or dare”, but it was difficult to be uncomfortable in their friend group and you quickly relaxed as the game progressed. You played many rounds, torturing each other with dares and forced confessions.

You watched as it unfolded, Chase dared Martin to streak around the block in his boxers, which he did suspiciously eagerly. Martin dared Chase to do the same but he only laughed as he drank, saying his “sleeper build is gonna stay asleep”. Chase asked you to talk about the most embarrassing date you’ve had, you told them about when your date got so drunk he spoke about john wick for 40 minutes, berated the waitress for not bringing a drink he didn’t ask for and then proceeded to throw up on both of you. They couldn’t help but to laugh as you hung your head “Its not funny guys they kicked us out and i had to drive him home…”

You dared Claire to call her mom on speaker and watched as she grimaced when her mom said hi to only Hamzah and then yapped for 10 more minutes. Mandy took a huge swig when Claire asked her if she used her horny sims mod to “digitally cuck” herself. Mandy dared Hamzah to dm his crush in Instagram, but forced him to take a drink when he turned his phone to everyone. The screen brandished a “wyd” text to Duke Dennis.

“He’s gonna start thinking you’re being serious if you keep this shit up” you said through the laughter of everyone.

It went downhill fast as everybody watched Hamzah prepare his dare for Martin. He sauntered around the room, pouring each warm half drunk drink into one red cup. Everyone watched in horror as he stood above the mangled cake and plopped a hefty amount into the discolored mixture.

“For my noob in crime, i’ve created The Slush ™.” He announced as he swung the cup low enough for everyone to see the devious concoction. He handed it to Martin, who paled as he looked down at a cake iceberg in a poison sea.

“That looks like dishwater…” Mandy spoke bluntly from beside him.

“Can you not say that right before i have to drink it? Please?” Martin pleaded, it was evident he was fighting with himself. The room stilled as you watched him take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Everyone shared his grimace as he forced the cup to his lips, tipping it back before yanking it from his lips.

He gulped, then he chewed.

Time stilled as you all watched his expression fall to one of complete remorse, he pried his mouth open to barely squeak out.

“…s-so chunky…..”

You couldn’t stop yourself from gagging comically loud in response to his soggy voice, but then he really gagged, then wretched so hard his body shook. He was gone from the room soon after, racing out the room with Mandy close behind.

“ Don’t feel bad, he was probably gonna throw up anyway” Claire patted you on the shoulder tenderly

“That was fuckin’ hilarious though”

Mandy eventually came back in the room, explaining it was Martin’s ‘bedtime’ now and they had to leave. You said your Goodbyes and it wasn’t long until Chase and Claire did the same. This left you and Hamzah in the after math alone.

You both sat at opposite sides of the couch, he scrolled on his phone, presumably changing the music as the speaker played a more mellow, bass-y song. You briefly rode the waves of the alcohol rushing through your veins, but forced yourself to a standing position anyway. Hamzah didn’t look up from his phone as you left or when you came back with a black trash bag. Only saying something when your back was turned, tossing empty cups and plates into the plastic bag.

“Ugh, how are you already cleaning? party’s not even over yet”

“Seems pretty done to me” You gestured to the empty room, swaying closer to the coffee table to pick up scattered paper plates.

“Nah, we can still have plenty of fun.” His voice barely dropped, drawing out each word.

Even sober you couldn’t help but to think about how attractive Hamzah really was, many times you had to ignore how his morning voice made you feel when he sleepily offered you a coffee in the earliest mornings. It wasn’t any easier now that the warmth of the booze kept you chatty. His words sent a particular chill you couldn’t help but chase

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You stood closer to the couch now, one hand on your hip as you looked down at him, garbage bag briefly forgotten. You watched as he pulled himself to the center of the couch, tossing his phone somewhere nearby.

“Let’s keep playing truth or dare.” He pat the couch beside him, welcoming you to sit again. You plopped down next to him, not ignoring how the space between you had shrunk to almost nothing

“Ok, i didn’t want to clean anyway” you slouched into the couch, watching his expression as he asked you

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“What were you thinking when i shaved my head” He said plainly

“Honestly I thought you were having a Britney spears moment” You said, laughing for a second before turning to look at the grown out blonde he sported now.

“But the blonde looks really good on you, even now” You brought your hand up to his hair before you thought to stop yourself, finger twirling the golden hair, just long enough to barely curl now. You only pulled away when you met his tipsy gaze, parted lips barely turned up, like he was secretly enjoying the contact.

“Truth or dare?” You stuttered, bringing your hand back to yourself.

“Truth”

You thought to yourself for a moment, not fully sure of what to ask him before copying Mandy’s turn.

“Why didn’t you dm your ‘crush’ when everyone was here”

Hamzah’s face fell as you finished your sentence, but he chuckled as he spoke.

“Why you wanna know? Worried i’m gonna start bringing some girl around?” He picked up the remnants of his drink, swirling the melted ice as he took a sip.

“Nah, just wanted to see if you would drink again…” There was a heavy pause as you watched Hamzah almost hide behind the red cup, eyes skirting up and down you as you sat upright, head barely tilted to smirk at him.

“Truth or dare” His voice vibrated lowly now.

“Dare” You leaned in as you said it, an obvious challenge, there was a certain lack of anxiety in your body as you taunted him.

“Dare you to sit a little closer to me…”

He leaned back into the couch, elbows resting on the backside as he glanced to the barely empty space beside him. You looked at the tiny gap between you too before sliding across the couch, pulling your warm thighs flush against his. There was no stopping the bashful smile that blessed your lips when you looked up at his brown eyes.

“Why don’t you get a little closer”

“Well, how much closer you want me to get?” You sighed through a coy smile, shaking your head as you tossed your knees over his lap. He only took that as a challenge, Hoisting your hips onto his lap and having you sit on him fully. If you hadn’t been drinking all night the reality of the situation would have you shaken like a puppy, but the heat kept a confident version of yourself at the forefront. You crossed your legs over his, folded hands in your lap as you looked at him.

“so..” You chided,

“…Truth or dare”

“Dare” His hand stroked your back as he looked at you with lidded eyes, hands dancing against the warm ruffles of the zip sweater you wore.

“Dare you to take your shirt off”

He couldn’t stifle the smile unfolding across his face, he pulled away from you just long enough to tug his long sleeve shirt off. You stole a long glance at him as he pulled his shirt off, the smooth expanse of his toned torso exposed as he pulled the cloth over his head. You felt your body heat up at the view of his bare arms, still toned from the boxing match he trained for, hoped he didn’t notice the way your legs clenched together when he tossed his shirt on the other side of the couch. He looked up at you, cockier now, leaning back on the couch, you let your eyes wander up and down his skin.

“Truth or dare”

This time you really thought about your answer, you knew he was getting worked up, a heated glint shone through his eyes as his hand skirted across your shoulder. If you chose dare, you know he’s gonna push you further, and you might get carried away with yourself. You wanted to tease him as much as you could while this moment lasted.

“Truth”

His eyebrows barely shot up, clearly surprised with your response. You watched as he paused, seemingly thinking of a response.

“What’d you think of the boxing match, huh?”

“hmmm…” You turned your back to him, lost in a faux thought, pretending like you haven’t thought plenty about how his shirts got tighter and tighter around his arms as he trained for the fight. The silence settled thick in the air for a moment, he fiddled with the strings hanging off the front of your hoodie, waiting patiently to hear your voice.

“Well, it definitely didn’t surprise me when you won, i saw all the training you put in…”

How could you forget how he would routinely come home from the gym or a jog, buzzed hair slicked with sweat and biceps glistening in the sun. Or when you would knock on his door and he would answer mid workout, emerging from his dim room to look down at you, chest heaving impossibly hard from the pushups he forced himself through.

“Thats all? You think i should keep up with the work or nah?” he asked from behind you, you shied away from him as he trapped you in his arms, chin resting on your shoulder now.

“mmm, i mean… i can’t say you don’t look good” you turned your head towards his now. Your faces impossibly close to each other, sharing breath as you studied his face.

“But i personally loved when you had some more weight on you…” You turned back away from him, unable to hold your tongue.

“Really??” You could hear the shock in his voice as he laughed incredulously, shaking his head as he sat back against the couch.

“Yeah but i mean.. you look good either way” you could tell you were speaking a little too much but couldn’t stop the thoughts from spilling out. When you didn’t hear another response from him you spoke.

“Go again, i cant think of anything” He didn’t see the smile that crossed your face as you waved a hand over your shoulder at him.

“hmmmm” Hamzah hummed, rumbling your body as he leaned into you again, bare body flush with the cotton fabric covering you.

“Can i…” His voice wandered off but his hands slid under your sweater, his fingers played with the fabric of your cropped tee.

“Can you what? Thought we were playing a game.” You goaded him into speaking, never pulling his wandering hands away from your clothed torso.

“Dare you to let me.. you know…” His voice trailed off as his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt. fingertips kissing the skin of your soft belly, drifting closer to the fabric of your bra.

“I’m not sure what you mean-” You’re sure he can hear the smile in your voice, relishing in the feeling of having him tongue tied, following his fingers with yours as he felt up any skin he could get his hands on.

“I wanna feel you up baby, can I?” His voice was unwavering, sent shock waves through you straight to your warm core. Hamzah sounded tenacious but you could tell he was growing impatient, that didn’t stop you from pushing him farther.

“ I don’t know, think id rather drink…” leaning forward against his knees, you moved like you were reaching for your drink but stopped when you heard him sputtering.

“Huh- bu… just for like… twenty seconds…”

“twenty seconds, huh?” giggle slipping through the air as you peeked over your shoulder, caught the breathless look on Hamzahs face as he stared at where your clothed bodies met. He didn’t get shy when you caught him staring, only smirking up at you crookedly like he was drunk on your company only.

“You gotta, Its a dare” He pulled his hands away from you, tilting them up and shrugging like the situation was out of his hands.

“Fine, but only twenty seconds, and keep it over the bra.”

“Whatever you say” He didnt waste a second, his hands slithering through the layers of your outfit till he felt the warmth of you again. Slow drawings over the waist band of your bra tickled your skin as he inched closer to your heart. You sucked in a breath when his palms finally dragged over the lacy cups of your bra, leaned into his hands when he groped you fully, feeling the weight of you in his hold. It grew harder to hold back whimpers as he fondled your breasts, You tipped you head back and shuddered when his thumbs roughly dragged over your covered nipples. He stole the chance to graze his soft lips at your exposed neck, hands picking up in intensity as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

Twenty seconds pass.

Then twenty more…

And twenty more……

Yet you didn’t dare tell Hamzah to stop his ministrations as he pinched at your covered nipples, applying as much pleasure as he could through the fabric. You lost yourself in the consuming feeling, letting soft moans slip past your lips as he nuzzled into your shoulder. You didn’t realize the way your hips rocked and twitched against him with every squeeze until one hand slipped off your tit to grip your hip, grounding you. He flattened the other hand against your pounding heart, pulling you deeper into his embrace.

“That was definitely longer than twenty seconds ” He purred into your ear, you could hear the smile in his voice as he reveled in the way you struggled to keep your composure. You prayed he didn’t comment on how long you let him toy with you, even now, the stillness of his hands had you aching for much more. But Hamzah would never let an opportunity to tease you go.

“You dare me to stop?” He whispered, low voice in your ear as he slowly played with the bottom band of your bra, barely brushing the sensitive skin hidden from him. No matter how hard you wanted to control the moment, you felt your will melting under his fingers.

“Please don’t….”

Something changed after those words, you slipped off the hoodie you were wearing, leaving you in a tee shirt and sweats. Hamzas hands groped at the soft skin through the shirt, any timidness thrown out the window as his hands wandered your body. You leaned into his hot touch, head tipping back into him, he pressed silky kisses from your shoulder to your ear. Each kiss was blissful, every touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through your skin, you couldn’t help the breathless pleas falling from your lips.

“Turn around for me baby, need to see that pretty face.”

His hands were already on your hips, turning you in his lap so you faced each other. If you were more sober you would’ve felt more exposed now that you could watch as he undressed you with his eyes, But the sight was so invigorating that you only wanted more and more. He gawked as your hand trailed to the hem of your shirt, your thumb hooked the bottom and you watched his eyes fixated as you peeled your shirt higher and higher. Large hands squeezed your sides as you revealed more skin, bunching the shirt around your chin and exposing the lacy bra concealed under cotton.

“Damn sitting pretty all for me, huh?” Hamzah couldn’t resist bringing his hands back to your chest, watching your face contort as he bunched the lacy fabric under his palm. You couldn’t help but to push your hips deeper into him, in pursuit of any friction he could give you. Whimpers slipping out as you felt the effects of your little game on him. You could tell his resolve was slipping when his heavy breaths turned to deep grunts, hands smoothing over your back as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Normally you’d be feeling crazy right now, the heat in his words, the way he chased any contact with you, his heavy breath on your skin would’ve had you flustered and running in embarrassment. Normally you would’ve thought about how you would have to live with him still after this, see his face in the tired early morning and late nights. You would’ve questioned how the hell you were going to look him in the eye and not think of the electric feeling of his hands on you, or see the way his eyes devoured your body. But now, with empty cups littering every surface around you couldn’t think of anything past the way his hips chased yours with every stuttering movement.

“Dare you to take this off for me.” Hamzah’s hands played with the hooks of your bra and for the first time tonight you hesitated. Insecurity rushed through you now, the idea of him really seeing you seemed a little too real now. He felt a little out of your league, it was hard not to compare yourself to the girls you had seen thrown themselves at him. There wasn’t much time for you to sink into the thought as Hamzah’s voice cut through the silence.

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?”

He pulled back to meet your gaze, when you couldn’t take the fire of his eyes on you, your eyes fell to the smooth skin of his chest. Toned pecs rising and falling as his hands dragged down your sides, sending goosebumps down your skin as he gripped your hips. He pushed his hips into you, tugging you into him at the same time. Huffing out a moan, you braced yourself on his shoulders, nails gripping the muscled skin for stability as he rolled your clothed bodies together. Even through multiple layers of clothes you could feel his hardness under you, pressing into your hot core repeatedly.

“cmon, cant you feel what you’re doing to me, hmm?” His words went straight to your pussy, clenching around nothing every time his bulge would rub against your covered clit.

“s’not fair to work me up like this, then hide your pretty body from me…” His words were making you feel dizzy, the feeling of you bodies molding together driving you mad. Any attempt to think of anything but him was squashed with every syllable and movement from him. His hooded eyes never left your face, drinking up the way your plush lips parted to let shuddery breaths slip by. His eyes were trained on yours as you lifted your bunched shirt off your head, his eyes took in your body as you pulled it over your head. You snuck a hand behind your back to unhook your bra, he watched as the straps loosened and you slipped them off your shoulders. You moved slow like syrup, relishing in every little reaction from him as you snaked your bra off your shoulders.

“Fuck… look so perfect for me….” His hands smoothed up your stomach to your bare tits, kneading them in his hands. His thumbs found your pebbled nipples, you tipped your head back in ecstasy as he rolled them in his fingers. He brought his mouth to your exposed neck, placing tender kisses under your chin,on your racing pulse, on your collarbone, trailing lower until he felt the rapid beating of your heart under your skin.

“haah… hamzahh…” He hummed against your chest, brown eyes rising to look up at you, he smiled when he saw how you looked, how you sighed anytime his fingers flicked against your nipple. The feeling of him harshly rubbing against your core left you breathless, you could only dumbly watch as he pulled back from kissing your chest to lick a chaste stripe across your nipple. You flinched at the quick sensation , he watched as your nipple reacted to the cool wetness, growing firmer before he licked again, swirling his tongue around the nub before taking it between his lips.

His brow furrowed as your hips bucked into him, moaning into the air as you rocked roughly into his bulge. You reached in between yourselves to reach your hand past the band of his boxers, felt him groan against your chest when your fingers brushed against him. Growing impatient, you pushed him against the couch, standing in front of him to peel your own sweat pants off, climbing back on him before he can get his pants past his knees. You pouted, bringing your face close to his, wondering why he hadnt dared you to kiss him yet! He must’ve read your expression well enough because before long he gripped your jaw and closed the distance between you two.

The kiss completely threw you off, he was slow and intentional, taking his time like he wanted to savor each touch. He held you close as you moved against him, your underwear wasn’t doing much to stifle the way he throbbed every time you softly mewled under him. As you grew more desperate he began to loose whatever bits of composure he had left, he pinched at your nipples harder as you humped his clothed dick. Moaning into his mouth, he took the chance to trace your lip with his tongue before the kiss turned deliciously sloppy.

One hand slowly drifted off your breast, trailing down your torso with a feather light touch and giving you goose bumps. Hamzah brought his fingers to brush up against your clothed pussy, wet lace sticking to your puffy core. You broke away from him to whimper when he pushed against your neglected clit, pushing back and forth between the warm fabric. He hooked one finger in the lace, tugging it to the side to finally slide his finger through your slick folds.

“Damn baby, what’s got you so worked up, huh?” He pet your silky core, satisfied with the pathetic twitches and moans every time he brushed against your sensitive bud.

“Barely touched you and you’re already so wet”

“Please, Hamzahh… i cant take it anymore….” You whispered, grabbing at the wrist working between you, not to move it away, but inch it closer to you. He was purposely light with his fingertips, tapping your clit before dipping between your slick folds leisurely. He coos at your pleas, mocking your pouted expression, before resting his hand on your back and leading you to lay flat on the couch.

Hamzah lied above you, the weight of him pressing you into the plush couch grounded you. He never broke eye contact as he hooked his finger into the band of your panties. He started sliding them off before pausing, asking silent permission with his eyes. You lifted your hips, a silent admission, and he pulled them off your legs, tossing them somewhere nearby.

He sat back on his knees, eating up how you were displayed under him. Shaky legs wrapped around his hips, the way you pushed your face into the cushions, shying away from his gaze. He dragged a hand up your leg from your knee to your core, using his thumb to pull open your wet pussy. Hamzah watched your hips buck in the empty air, pussy clenching against nothing, just begging to be touched.

His thumb finally moved to pet your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every circle he drew. You pushed your hips in rhythm with his hands, whimpering as your hips rocked into the patterns he drew on your pussy. His free hand went back to grope at your nipple, reaching for any part of your supple flesh he could reach. Then he switched the tempo, speeding up his rough pace until you were on the edge, then switched back to slow languid strokes. Your legs shook with every change, breathing knocked out of your chest everytime he pushed you impossibly closer to the edge.

“hufff… ffuck hamzahh, please….”

Hamzah leaned his weight into you, lips kissing at your collar bone and moving up. You could feel his smirk against the hammering pulse in your neck. He sucked and nipped at the flesh of your neck as he dragged his middle finger through your wetness, barely dipping into you. He licked a stripe from your neck to the lobe of your ear, biting down in time with the plunge of his long finger. You couldn’t tell if the gasp you let rip through you was more from the shock of the bite or the stretch of his deft fingers.

It wasn’t long before he was pumping his finger into you, kissing you roughly like a man starved. He swallowed your moan as he slipped another finger into you, petting your walls in search of the spot that made you squirm the most. His pace was relentless, the dirty sound of his palm against your wet pussy filled the room. You clawed at his back, breaking from the kiss to fill your starved lungs with air. The way he looked down at you, hooded eyes and roused hair, it had you shying into the pillow under you. You heard a soft chuckle above you, his hands slowing as he leaned back against your ear and lowly whispered.

“Wanna eat you out baby”

His fingers drew circles around your clit.

“bet you taste so fuckin good…”

They dipped inside chastely, reaching deeper than you ever could. He dragged them out, reaching towards your parted lips. you didn’t hesitate to open up, lapping up the juices coating his fingers. His eyes darkened as your lips wrapped around his fingers, working well to not miss a spot, eyes closed as you moaned around his knuckles. He retreated his fingers to move down your body, never breaking eye contact as he kissed down to where you needed him most.

He pressed a kiss to your pelvis, looking up at you with those brown eyes like he wasn’t teasing you to the edge of your life. Your hips twitched when he pressed a firm kiss right over your throbbing clit and shuddered as he licked a stripe up your sopping pussy. He latched onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the slick pearl. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of soft blond curls, you couldn’t help the string of curses and whines as he lapped at your core.

He watched as your eyebrows knit together when he fingered you open, bucking into his mouth as he fucked you on his hand. His free hand hooked under your knee, bringing your other leg over his shoulder and spreading your legs wide to stop you from wildly kicking as you were. The burning knot in your stomach grew as he flicked his tongue over your clit, panting heavy as you tugged on his short hair. He moaned around your pussy at the feeling of your shaky hands. The vibration only made you pull harder, his eyes clamped shut, a pathetic whimper slipping through him, you felt the couch shift under you.

You pried your heavy head off the couch to look down at him. Ombre curls stuck to his forehead, his eyes were glued shut as his mouth worked against your pussy. Then you saw the way his hips shifted under him, the sight of him humping the couch under him like a damn dog in heat. The thought that bringing you pleasure had him so worked up, you pulsed against his fingers. You practically rode his face, his fingers pumped out of you faster and faster, the lewd squelch noises filled the room. His fingers curved inside you, hitting the spot that had your toes curling.

“hooh fuck! wait- unff i’m gonna cum…”

Hamzah finally looked up at your figure again, shaking legs tensing as you pushed your palm flat against his head, trying to push his mouth away from where he was latched onto you. He never slowed down though, only spurred on by the way you fought your own orgasm.

“cum im my mouth, baby”

He spoke against your pussy, fingers abusing that spot inside you.

“cmon, wanna taste you”

You felt the familiar buildup, Hamzah’s praises only pushing you over the edge. You called out his name as your orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure knocking the air out of you as he made out with your pussy. Stars filled your vision as you chanted his name like a mantra, hips bucking against his face. He groaned around your pussy as he fucked you through each burst of pleasure, only slowing when you started running from the over stimulation.

He slid off you with a loud pop, smoothing his hands across your thighs as he moved up your body, leaning down to kiss you tenderly. The taste of you coated your tongue as he held your chin in his fingers, this kiss was much slower, dizzying in the way it had you feeling. Even in your hazy afterglow you reach for his boxers, palming his hard dick through the thin fabric. You broke the kiss to look in his eyes, could tell he was pent up by the way the simple touch had his eyes fluttering back.

The sound of his muffled groans spurred you on, giving you the energy to push him down to sit on the couch. you kissed his swollen lips, palming him through black boxers, then brought your lips to his ear.

“can i repay you?”

Your sultry voice sent goosebumps to his arms, fingers barely slipping past the fabric of his boxers. It amazed you to see how he went from talking you through your orgasm so confidently to how he looked now, only nodding dumbly as you palmed him in his boxers. You pulled him into a sloppy kiss as you finally tugged him out of his constrained briefs, the weight of him heavy as you slowly stroked in time with the kiss. If you weren’t feeling so impatient you would’ve relished in the whines slipping out of him every time your fingers rolled over his tip, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling away from him to kneel in front of him.

Hamzah’s chest heaved as he looked down at you, mouth agape as you smoothed your hands over his thighs. Feeling the way they tensed as your hands tugged his boxers down his legs, hard cock slapping against his stomach before you grabbed the base. His eyes were glued to your face as you slowly stroked him, he couldn’t help but to push his hips into the slow motion you had set up. You traced his veins with your thumb, his head tipped back against the couch when you gathered the slick pooling at his tip.

You licked your lips as you stroked him from tip to base, it didn’t take much before he was melting in your hands. You witnessed how he squirmed under you as you twisted your wrist around his sensitive tip, speeding up until he was gripping the couch under him.

“haah…. aaah fuck soo… so good…”

Your mouth watered at the sight of him losing control under your touch, the feeling of him throbbing in your hand had you biting your lip. You looked up at him through your lashes, smiling like you weren’t absolutely ruining him. He was babbling praises so quietly it seemed almost more for himself than for you. Hamzah’s thighs contracted under your hand when you pressed a long wet kiss to where his head met his shaft, he could only shutter as you look at him with wide eyes.

“Truth or dare, hamzah”

“whu- huh? i- aah-“

A moan cut off his response as you licked a stripe up his shaft, tracing his veins with your tongue until you reached the smooth tip. It was impossible for him to think straight when you wrapped your glossy lips around the head, pressing a soft kiss around his slit. He only mustered a response when you slowed, waiting for your answer.

“T-Truth…”

“Have you thought about me like this before?”

You stroked him faster now, watching as he fought to breathe long enough to give you a response.

“ F-fuck I…”

Any attempt to think about anything but you was futile, he would say anything right now if it meant you would put your mouth on him again.

“ uff… i- i do….”

“Oh yeah, tell me what you think about.”

You dragged your tongue across his twitching tip, eyes locked on his scrunched face as he groaned over you.

“ I- ughh… think about this…”

He huffed out as you alternated kisses and kitten licks against his throbbing dick.

“Think about your pretty face all the time baby- shit, s’all i need…”

You swirled your tongue around the tip, inching it farther in as his mouth continued to run.

“… hufffuckk… if you knew, unff- what i was thinking half the time…”

A moan slipped out of you, he nearly shouted at the feeling of your lips vibrating around him. His hands shot to rest in your soft hair.

“im sorry… but its not fair when you walk around looking like that…”

His hand fell to your wet chin, spit dripping out the corners of your mouth as you stroked any part of him that wasn’t in your mouth. He pulled you off his dick slowly, you hollowed your cheeks as you dragged out your contact. Hamzahs thumb dragged across your bottom lip as you rested your cheek in his hand, catching your breath as he looked down at you.

“how could i not think of fucking these pretty lips, huh?”

You stuck out your tongue, letting him slap his cock against the wet muscle, his hands gripped your hair more firmly now, rubbing his dick messily against his favorite part of you. He guided his tip to your open mouth, he didn’t bother to stifle the loud groan as you slid down his length, inch by inch until a tear rolled down your cheek.

“ So much better than i imagined too, fuck you’re driving me crazy…”

You could feel yourself getting worked up again as he went on. You slipped a hand between your legs, hoping Hamzah wouldn’t see how desperate his words were making you feel. He guided your head to a steady rhythm, fucking as deep into your throat as you could take. The sloppy noises from the way you worked him filled the room as you swirled your own fingers around your sensitive clit. He hissed when you moaned with him deep in your mouth, fistfuls of hair as he tried not to thrust too roughly into your throat. The salty taste of him had your pussy dripping, your second orgasm barreling towards you.

“Its true baby, i’m obsessed with you”

His pace got faster, unable to stop himself from using you for his pleasure. He looked absolutely destroyed, mouth hanging open as he pushed you deeper on his cock.

“obsessed with those pretty lips of yours, sweetheart.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as a second orgasm ripped through you, his constant praises pushing you over the edge. Hamzahs pace didn’t stutter, too busy chasing his own peak to fully realize anything. You could tell he was on the brink by the way he throbbed against your tongue, balls pulsing when you fondled them.

“Shiiitt… so fuckin close… can i-“

You popped off of him, stroking his wet dick as you looked up at him, panting.

“cum for me, Hamzah.”

The sound of your hand sliding against him was almost too much, nearly louder than the sound of Hamzah whimpering over you.

“Wanna cum on your pretty face, sweetheart…”

He’s lost any shame as he quivered under your rough touch, moaning like a virgin as his hips chased your hand.

“pleasee”

How could you deny such a pretty face? you took him down your throat, nose ticking his pelvis as you gagged around his length. It wasn’t long before he tugged you off his throbbing cock, borderline wailing as he pumped his dick against your open mouth. One hand held you steady under the jaw, the other set a brutal pace on his dick. He shook as he painted your cheeks, warm cum spurting against your tongue and flushed face. You kissed his tip as he worked through his high. He shuddered when you slipped it back in your mouth, making sure to suck every drop from him before he was pulling you off by the hair.

There was a moment where you both stared at each other, chests heaving as you paused to catch your breath. Hamzah was the first to speak after a long moment, he looked at you fixated before breaking the silence first.

“Truth or dare?”

Hamzah felt the pounding in his head long before he opened his eyes. He groaned as he slapped at the sheets, each movement sent a painful throb through his head as he searched for his phone. Judging by the way the light was flooding into his bedroom he could tell he had slept in. Finally he felt the rectangular edge in the pocket of his sweat pants, he reached into his pocket to fish out hs phone but stopped in his tracks when he saw what slipped out with it.

A pair of lacy panties were caught on the corner of his phone. His brows furrowed as he tried to remember how his night ended last night, the more he thought about it the more came back to him. He unlocked his phone and his face immediately paled, eyebrows shooting to his hairline when he saw the last thing he was looking at last night.

A picture of you taken from above, his hand cradling your face as you looked at the camera with the most fucked out face. Cum was dripping down your cheek and coated your swollen lips. It was the hottest picture he’s ever seen, the angle getting a perfect view of your bare tits and your big eyes looking straight into the camera. His dick was twitching just looking at it.

He went back to your lacy underwear , holding them in front of his face like he couldn’t believe they were actually there. He knew it wasn’t right but he shoved them deep back into his pocket. He thanked whatever god allowed him to get a picture of you like this, but in the same breath he cursed them, because

How in the hell was he going to look you in the eye now?

𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹

A/n: First hamzah fic + first smut fic how we feeling yall (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

#hamzah x reader #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah fic #hamzah smut #guiltyfemcel #rpf fanfiction

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xeeljii · 10 months ago

Note

I need joost whimpering into my neck so bad its not even funny anymore IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE (touching grass rn thanks)

can i write a little something .... ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

CW: 18+, f! reader, dry humping sorry im in my dry humping era, drunk! Joost, established relationship, needy so needy Joost.

Late at night the window to your shared apartment is still open letting a little breeze in, it is the middle of summer and you are just laying on the living room couch watching TV ready for bed when you finally hear the ring of the doorbell. Joost had been gone since the midday with his friends and now so late you guessed he must have had a good day if he wasn't even able to use his keys.

You get up, turn the TV off and open the door with a soft smile on your lips, he is hanging between Appie and Stunje, red to the tip of his ears and so obviously drunk. His eyes are closed, his face is hanging low, he looks like a rag doll as both his friends hold him trying to keep him from falling, you laugh slightly at the sight.

"Thanks for bringing him home." You say voice low to not wake him but as soon as the words leave your mouth he raises like coming back to life at the sweet familiar sound of you.

He opens his eyes quickly, pupils unfocused and hair all tousled on his forehead. He smiles brightly his whole face lighting up and the so beloved dimples appearing.

"Liefde!" He all but screams as he lets go of the shoulders of his friends and throws himself all over you.

He is never mindful of his size even less so when he is drunk, he rests all his weight on you and you do everything to hold him and not fall backwards. You place a hand securely on his back as he rubs his face against your neck, he bends down in an awkward position to sniff at your perfume. You feel yourself blush quickly when he starts placing kisses on the exposed skin still very aware of the presence of his friends who break in laughter when they realize what he is doing.

But he doesn't care, he can't care when you smell so nice and feel so good and soft under his hands.

"I'm so sorry." You say mortified, they just continue laughing before Appie speaks.

"This one kept whining about missing you at the bar then when we got in the taxi he kept trying to call you but couldn't figure out how to unlock his phone so he threw a fit." You can see the image so clear in your mind it is so embarrassing and so adorable all at the same time.

"You are his screensaver you knew that right?" You blush deeply, you didn't know, but it is not surprising Joost is practically bordering on obsessed with you.

Joost is holding you tightly and shamelessly planting kisses on your warm skin completely ignoring the conversation happening right in front of him, then he gets bolder and starts sneaking his hand right under your sleeping camisole. You wince.

"Okay we are leaving." Stunje says saving you any further embarrassment you throw him an apologetic smile and a thank you before everyone says their goodbyes and leaves.

When the door is finally closed you can breath a little easier, you pull hard at Joost's shirt trying to peel him off you.

"You are such a handful." You say, so much love dripping from your tone it comes out with no bite.

"I missed you~" He whines into you stretching the last syllable.

"I can see." You start pulling him towards the bed room, he stays pressed close to you not allowing you to leave his embrace even by an inch.

When you get to the bed he finally releases you a bit but only to push you down onto the mattress, you fall with a soft thud in the middle.

"Hey!" You chide.

"I missed my baby." He says with furrowed eyebrows standing over you, he is so whiny when he is drunk, he is so clingy and so needy.

"Just take your clothes off and come to bed." You say rolling your eyes, you do have work early and whatever he is trying to get at can't happen.

He quickly does as he is told and starts crawling on top of you only on his boxers.

"I have work in the morning." You remind him softly before he gets ahead of himself.

"I know." He mumbles, cute little pout adorning his puffy lips. But knowing doesn't stop him from much and he makes himself a little place between your legs wrapping the muscle around his hips before he lets himself fall right on top of you.

"You can't sleep like that, you are crushing me." You pull lightly at his hair to get him to move but he doesn't and you already know that he won't.

"I really missed you." He says in that airy breathy tone that has you dampening in your panties.

He reaches a hand over your camisole stopping over your breast, his head is pressed right against the crook of your neck. He starts softly massaging at the mound of fat over the fabric and you can't help but sigh at his touch. He is kissing at the sensitive skin over your pulse and licking intently to pull more sounds from you.

"Joost." You whine unsure if you are asking for more or chiding him again, but he just likes the way you say his name so it only spurs him on.

He feels the nipple harden against the soft fabric and wants to touch directly so bad, he pulls his hand away before moving it to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up all over your breasts. At that he finally pulls slightly away from you just so he can admire at your beautiful forms, without even touching him he is already twitching in his boxers and a dark wet spot forms at the fabric of his underwear.

"So pretty." He says before he bends down chasing back after your warmth again.

He goes straight for your nipple wraps his lips around the sensitive skin and starts sucking as much of you into his mouth as he can, his other hand massages at your chest. His hips start moving against yours, he is grinding hard against your pelvis, moaning agains your tit on his mouth and groping hard at the other one with his big warm palm. You involuntarily start grinding back, back slowly rising from the mattress to match his pace.

You feel him so hard against your core, his length pushing right against the fabric of your shorts, he is breathing so heavy against your chest nose buried against your skin moaning as he sucks on you. He keeps rubbing himself on you, harder, faster, he is going to crush you, you really feel his whole weight on you as he wildly uses your smaller frame to get off. You feel him twitching even between the layers of fabric still separating you, you already know his body so well.

He pulls away from your nipple, grabs with both hands at your waist moving you harder against his body, you feel his hips start to stutter, he bends down again and searches for your neck, he is panting and leaving wild kisses and love bites everywhere he can reach, he can't help himself he needs to mark you so bad right now, alcohol high on his bloodstream he forgets any reservation.

"Let me come." He says in a whisper accentuated by a hard thrust.

"Can I come baby?" He asks sweetly as he licks under your ear.

"Please" He whines against the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel his deep voice sending waves directly to your cunt, you are so wet, your clit is so hard and throbbing at his words alone.

"Please touch me." He whimpers right against your hair.

"Please touch my dick." He is begging now, so close, just needs a little help, just needs the smallest touch from his sweet kind girlfriend to get off.

And who are you to deny him?

So you move a hand low between the two of you, reach inside his boxers, you don't even bother pulling them down and just stroke him hard and fast, your hand clenching around him tightly just how he likes it and twisting around the tip. Just within a few movements he is coming, on your hand, on his underwear, on your pajamas. Long white stripes dirtying everything with delicious heat.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He continues mewling against your throat as he weakly thrust against your palm with the last waves of his climax.

He pulls enough strength to kiss your lips messily before he finally collapses onto you with a deep content sigh.

You still feel yourself throbbing inside your shorts but before you realize it he is already fallen deep asleep holding softly at your tit with a big warm hand. Sleeping so peacefully like an angel, like he didn't just use you to get off. You roll your eyes with so much fondness.

"You really are a handful." You say almost in disbelief kissing at his cheek as his face rests pressed on your neck breathing softly.

You pull your hand away and wipe it on the duvet. He is going to have to wash that tomorrow, and your pajamas and his boxers, it is his fault it all got dirty. And he will probably wake you up with head as an apology for leaving you high and dry and you will most likely not make it to work on time because he won't be happy with making you come just one time, no, for the grieve offense of not making you finish he will want to pull as many orgasms from you as he can before you are begging for him to let go, all overstimulated and pretty on his mouth. But all of those are problems for tomorrow you, so you just wrap your arms around him and pull him closer before his comforting weight over your body on you drags you to sleep.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

A/N: idk where this came from idk lol not proof read etc

ps. this is not THE DRY HUMPING fic this is just me being insane

#joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #me when it is time to write smut on my lunch break idgaf #ask #anon

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joosthead · 6 months ago

Text

summer song || j.k. x f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ after such a lovely day, you want to repay the favor.

₊˚⊹⋆ set the night of tt, the day after jtsfaoi

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader. notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 5.6k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (established relationship, rimming, frotting, pegging, f sitting on m face, subby joosti:3), let’s pretend butts and buttholes exist as sterile environments ok, genuine cbat reference

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “summer song” by remy bond, “we’ve only just begun” by the carpenters

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: harness (nsfw? lol it’s…a harness) i started my fic writing career writing gay fanfiction—i very much missed writing m!receiving anal <3. i would really recommend having google translate out for this one!! i dont tend to provide translations 😅 unedited and cheesy as per usual. @howisjoostfanfictionforfree partner in crime yet again!!

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

After such a relaxing, sleepy day with Joost, you should be more tired than you feel—instead, you lie awake, legs hanging over the long side of your bed in silence as you wait for him to come to bed.

You’ve just dried off after a shower together—washing Joost’s back, washing his hair for him even after he whined about the soap getting in his eyes, kissing and kissing until your mouths tasted like lavender and chemicals and the water had run cold.

Before that, right after you’d had your day in the sun next to the pool, Joost cleaned you up, and you dressed back up in each other’s clothes, kissing up the stairs back into your house, bumping into your door, stumbling over the droplets of water his hair dripped all over your hardwood and into the kitchen.

Joost flung the refrigerator open and you scolded him for treating it so roughly—he apologized to it, and you smiled when he did, getting things out of the pantry for you two as he rummaged through it.

When you first got to know Joost, he said he couldn’t cook or clean; you said that wouldn’t fly with you, and now five years later, there he was, humming his own tune as he chopped ingredients and assembled open faced sandwiches with whatever you had left in the fridge, overloading both of them with what you liked and putting what you didn’t like (usually food he loved) on his own sandwich.

The two of you finished making your meal, you took them outside and sat on the loungers together for a bit before you ran back in for a bag of chips to crush up and crumble over your sandwiches—“You’re a genius, I think,” he said after you’d sprinkled the crumbs over his, and you laughed as you fed him another chip.

For a few hours, you napped on the couch in a messy pile on top of each other, deep in slumber from your full stomachs and hearts and shared exertion from your session on the lounger, a few hours worth of Dutch cartoons, a few hours of your cat making muffins on Joost’s back and him pretending not to like it, a few hours of sweating on each other until you felt gross and decided to take your shower together.

Joost comes walking in, white towel low around his waist, water still dripping from the tips of his hair as he stands in front of your shared dresser, in front of the mirror. You sit up on your elbows to watch him; a pink towel in his hands and rubbing his hair out of the extra moisture. This must be torture, you think, how he’s got you on the edge of your seat with nothing but his back and shoulders on display for you.

He shakes his hair out of the pink towel; drops the white one and opens the drawer. “You’re staring again, lieverd,” he says, rummaging through.

You truly can’t help it; the curves of his hips and ass, the dimples at the base of his spine, every spot and freckle on him you know by heart all for you to observe. His shoulders are pinkish—not as bad of a burn as you thought, but still enough to earn you some whining from him for the next day or two.

“Turn around.”

He does for you, and you move to sit on the edge of the bed, and he stands in between your legs. Joost is impossibly beautiful—you place a hand on his waist, rubbing your thumb over his Rayquaza tattoo, scanning his body with your eyes.

You are lucky, and you know it.

Thighs dusted with hair so blonde it almost looks invisible—you could almost forget that he has a tattoo of a minion in a maid costume on his right leg as it stares you in the face.

“Still can’t believe you got that,” you say, even though you fully believe it.

“Can't believe you let me.”

Soft and hanging heavy between his legs, thick blonde hair at the base of it—under the gaze of you, he’s starting to harden, and you look up at him. Joost averts his eyes, looking to the side as the blush creeps up his neck, down his chest.

Usually so eager, never one to hide—your boyfriend the performer rendered bashful and almost hiding behind his arms as you lower your hand to his hip and squeeze, the silvery thin marks and stretched lines of his growing under your fingertips. You like running your fingers over them, the way he likes touching yours.

“You make me shy when you look at me like that, schat.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

He nods, placing a hand on your cheek. “I guess that is fair, hm?”

You melt into his touch, so warm even with the fan on high and the windows flung wide open—if you hadn’t been so relaxed after earlier, you two would be part of the droves of clubgoers tonight walking and laughing past your house on the way to the center of the action.

His touch isn’t the only thing that’s warm—you’re wearing one of his big t-shirts that reaches down to your thighs, a skimpy pair of old cotton underwear, legs bare but your chest and neck are hot with what it feels like to look at him in this state.

“Joosti,” you say softly, cupping his half-hard shaft. “I want you again,” looking up at Joost as he cups your face in his hands.

Bending down to kiss your forehead, he mumbles, “We will get dirty again. You don’t mind?”

“We can take another shower together.”

“If you say so, mijn schat.” Straightening up, Joost brings the pendants of your necklaces from the back of your neck to your collarbone as you wrap your hand around his cock—you didn’t even know they were displaced. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Not tired at all,” you say, alert as can be as you tighten your grip around him just slightly. He sighs when you jerk him once, twice, getting him harder with every moment. “Can we make up for yesterday?” Leaning forward, you lap at his nipple and he sighs, eyebrows furrowing but face filled with pleasure at your slick hand, your eyes on him. You want him like this more than anything

“Cover your eyes,” Joost says, placing his two fingers over the eyes of his maid minion and you laugh. “We already made up for yesterday.” You hum in acknowledgement as you push him to step back slightly with your fingers on his thigh. “And also, there is nothing to make up. You needed your time, that’s okay.” Absentmindedly, you nod as you pet at his cock, feeling it grow with your grip on him, how you stroke him up and down so he reaches full hardness. He’s fully hard in little to no time, your mouth on his nipple, swirling around it, the soft sounds falling out of his mouth now. “Can I remind you, you have work tomorrow? We can’t stay up too long.”

“We can.” You decide in an instant—you’ll down a Red Bull tomorrow morning or something, call out maybe. Anything for this. “Lie down.”

Despite Joost’s previous refusals, he lies down so easily, so lazy, flopping down on his back against your pillows and giving himself a few slow strokes as you crawl between his legs, lying stomach down.

You lay your cheek against Joost’s soft thigh as he gazes at you, as you gaze at him. He cups your cheek with the hand that isn’t jerking himself, and you nuzzle into it, kissing his palm, his fingertips, sucking around his thumb when he hooks it between your teeth, pupils blown, the light mood between you two all but forgotten when you move to his cock.

A stream of pre spurts out of the sticky tip and you lap it up slowly, keeping Joost’s eyes on you as lick at the slit, the taste salty as you mouth and lick where the crown and the shaft meet, earning you a few breathy moans.

“Je bent een droom,” Joost says softly as you kiss along his length.

“I’m a dream?” you ask, knowing the answer. You knew what he said.

He nods—“You’re a dream,” he says, and you believe it.

“Do you say that ‘cause I have my mouth on your dick?”

“Don’t be so crude,” he scolds, rolling his eyes and sounding like you, and you laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say softly, kissing him on the downy skin between his cock and his navel, nosing against his happy trail. “Thank you for today.”

“You’re saying thank you enough today.” Joost’s breath hitches as you take the tip in your mouth and suck, hollowing your cheeks around him as you take his inches into your mouth. He brushes your hair out of the way; you swallow around him and he groans with the tightness of your throat when you get half down.

“Like that, fuck,” Joost breathes as you bob your head, lips wrapped around him and trying to take more until you can’t, until your eyes water and you have to come off of him with a quiet gasp, letting the extra spit drip out of your mouth and onto his cock when you jerk him.

“Too much?” he teases, and you roll your eyes. Joost takes your chin in his hand and squishes your cheeks, making a happy little sound which you know is a substitute for him calling you cute.

“Never enough, honestly,” you sigh, a smirk playing on your lips as you stroke him. “You’re changing the sheets by the way.”

“Mean!! You’re so mean!!” he laughs, poking your forehead gently in fake annoyance. “I was always going to change the sheets after this.”

“Always enough, mijn schat,” you say quietly, slinking back up to him to have your faces close together. “I tease, I know, but I’m so thankful for you.”

Joost presses his lips to yours, one hand around your waist. “Stop with the thank you, I’m serious—I don’t need it, I want to do this for you,” he says when you pull away.

You brush back his hair and press another kiss to his lips, gazing at him. “I’ll be saying thank you for the rest of my life, Joost, I’m not gonna stop now.”

For some reason, he looks surprised��so many years together, not a lot of things to be surprised about anymore, and especially not that sentiment. It took a while to get here, yes—but you’ll spend the rest of your time together proving you mean it. You admire Joost’s face and his strong nose, the stubble along his jaw, the pink lips you’ve kissed all the time since that day in December 2019, his hay colored eyelashes batting at you in wonder.

“The rest of your life, lieverd? You mean it?”

“Always,” you smile, nodding. “Get used to it, you’ll hear it forever.”

You come back down between Joost’s legs, a small pool of precum on his stomach from how long you've neglected his cock. It twitches when you look at it, spurts more of the clear fluid when you wrap your hand around it and slap it against your tongue gently. “You’re fucking crazy,” he breathes, and you laugh as you feed it into your warm mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking around him.

Joost is pathetically loud almost all the time, and he’s no different now, mewls and happy sounds tumbling out of him, the slurp of your mouth and your attempts to get the spit from spilling out the sides of your lips.

Once you come up off him, you lick along the underside of his shaft, the length of his cock, taking time to lap at his slit again.

You come down and lick at the seam of his balls, popping one into your mouth momentarily as you jerk him; you let go, and then you come down even further, nudge his legs back, lick at his perineum to watch as his cock twitches with every lick of your tongue on his skin, watch as he sucks in a hiss through his teeth and then throws his head back and laughs.

“What are you doing, baby?” you smile as you kiss at the soft skin there. “Fuck, I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Testing the waters,” you say simply, kissing at the base of his shaft.

“For what?”

“You know what.”

You look towards your dresser—three drawers down on the right is one filled with toys over the years, many duplicates, one for each of you. There’s only one kind of toy that’s for Joost only—the assortment of anal toys and straps that you’ve got mixed in there, relatively new to the arsenal but already well loved by both of you.

“You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish,” Joost says, even when you lick once over his hole and it makes his entire body spasm, how sensitive he is.

“You think I can’t finish it?”

“You wanna?”

“Do you want to?” you press a few wet kisses to his perineum, stroking him as you do.

“How could I say no to you, lieverd?”

You get up off your stomach, squeezing his thick thigh as you shimmy down your underwear, leaving it on the bed—“If you want it, get me off first.” You don’t need an answer to sit yourself where you belong; your thighs on his cheeks, your knees near his ears as he grins up at you, laughing. “What is it?”

“You say it as if it’s a punishment to do this—I’ve been waiting since morning to eat you out again.”

Shaking your head, you adjust so you won’t squish him so bad, but he pulls you closer, kissing your inner thighs. “You say I’m crazy.”

“We can both be crazy,” Joost says, gazing at you between the legs so intensely you might scramble off him and hide. “Now sit.”

Gently, you lower yourself down onto his mouth, sighing when he licks through you, insatiable. Joost hooks his arms around your thighs, big blue eyes looking up at you, fingers parting your lips so he can have direct access to your clit—he wraps his pink lips around it, sucks hard, earning him a succession of loud moans out of your mouth. He flattens his tongue against you, drinking you in, the wet sounds of his mouth and your pussy making your cheeks burn.

Your hands grip at his hair as you keen, losing control with how well he’s eating you; one arm unhooks itself from your thigh, but you pay it no mind when he fucks his tongue into you a few thrusts in, the sensation filthy. You sigh out, eyebrows knitting together with the effort it takes to stay upright, one hand in his hair, the other on the wire bed frame. Turning your head around, you watch and see—see Joost’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself, and you turn back to click your tongue at your poor, misbehaved boyfriend.

“Mm-mm,” you say, shaking your head. “Did I say you could do that?” You lift up off his mouth to let him get a word in and he shakes his head, lips glistening.

“No, schat, you didn’t,” he breathes heavily, smiling up at you.

“That’s right,” you say softly, smiling when he moves his hand from his cock to the meat of your ass. “Good boy. Don’t do that again.”

Again, you sit yourself on Joost’s tongue, having to stifle back a moan immediately when he sucks on your clit again, a few minutes passing against the background of your heavy moans, the smack of his mouth against you.

You’ve no composure now, your bucking hips allowing you to grind on his tongue, losing yourself with your impending orgasm, your breaths and whimpers at how good he feels under you—you cum hard, having to hold onto the bed frame with both hands as Joost keeps sucking on your clit, sobbing out his name as you ride his tongue and ride it out.

Once you’ve made it through, Joost switches to licking through your folds, tasting you, slow and methodical. The overstimulation makes you wince, squeezing his head between your thighs, and he laughs, the vibrations of his voice making you twitch and lift up off him as you catch your breath, gazing down at him.

“The longest we have gone without bickering, schat,” Joost says, licking his lips of your wetness, his chin and cheeks glistening in the light.

“Mm, you’re not wrong,” you laugh, limbs light as feathers with how blissful you feel as you climb off and go between his legs again, his neglected cock hard as ever. “Let’s take care of that,” you purr, and Joost nods profusely, making you laugh as you push back his legs, as you press a wet kiss to his hole, a lick over it as he moans out your name.

Slowly, you flatten your tongue against it, letting your spit pool as you lap at his entrance. Joost throws his head back in pleasure, groaning when you pull back and spit on it, rubbing over it with your thumb, pushing in slightly and licking around his rim to a loud whine from him.

“Get the lube,” you say, pulling away from Joost as you wait for the top drawer to open and shut, his hushed cursing when he has to rummage around for longer than he’d like. He’s the one who threw it in haphazardly after last time—you’d tease him about it, but he has enough things to worry about with his twitching and angry pink cock.

Finally, Joost gets it out and hands it to you, breathless; you uncap it, drizzling it onto your fingers, spreading it over his hole as he hisses through his teeth at the sensation. When you push in with your middle finger, it makes him shudder, sigh out—he gives so easily to you, strokes himself but has to stop as soon as he starts because it’s all too much. You stroke your finger inside of him once you push in to the knuckle, rubbing at his perineum with your other hand.

Joost pants out your name, hand around the bed frame as he looks down at you, eyebrows scrunched, mouth open and contorting soundlessly when you add your ring finger, teasing his hole—maybe it’s too much all at once, but you know he’ll take it.

One finger and you’ve gotten him so flushed, so pretty, his platinum bangs sticking to his forehead, the sheen of sweat on his chest and stomach. You’re not even moving them quickly, slowing down the curling so you’re petting over his spot gently, almost tantalizingly, at least to you.

For Joost, you’re sure it’s a blur—his voice so shaky, the inside of him is hot around you and squeezing your fingers as you watch him almost in your own state of wonder as he inhales and exhales so heavily it’s as if he’s calming himself down for you. This angle must be nice, right? Is it so different for him the way it is for you? Is this what you look like, writhing and hungry for you and what you’ll do inside?

The squelch of your fingers, wet, weird because it isn’t coming from you for once; the grip of your other hand, tight, strange because it’s your hand around his hip keeping him from squirming so much and not the other way around; the stuttering, whiny exhales falling from his mouth, familiar and breathtaking, raspy and deep still because it’s Joost, your Joost.

“Yes, right there, schat,” Joost moans, closing his eyes when you curl your fingers where you know his prostate is, scissoring them and opening him up more so he’s comfortable and ready for your strap, your favorite out of the ones you own—silicone, the color of your skin and around 6 inches long, Joost’s favorite, too.

You’ve worked up sizes over the past year: small silicone plugs to slightly longer, ribbed glass dildos, and finally, the several straps of varying sizes you've both been keen to try out on him now that he’s ready—he brought it up over your 3rd anniversary dinner in Aruba, tipsy and blushing and beautiful, and it caught you off guard. How shy he was, how he could barely get the words out until you begged him for 10 minutes to tell you because you wanted to know so badly what it was, exactly what he wanted.

Joost tells you what he wants now, no waver in his voice, no hesitation as he sobs out your name, clutching onto sheets, clutching onto metal when you add a third finger and keep your rhythm curling them, his hips thrusting into the air and then fucking back onto your fingers.

Outside your open window, the commotion has quieted down—you’re sure that your boyfriend, crying out and desperate is the only sound echoing on these Amsterdam streets, but neither of you mind. They’d be lucky to hear him anyways.

A few minutes of this, opening him up further until he’s groaning out, practically crying. “Mijn liefste, wees niet gemeen, wees alsjeblieft niet gemeen tegen me,” he pants, shaking his head at you when you pout at him teasingly. “I’m serious, give it to me.”

“I’m giving it to you right now, aren’t I?”

“You know what I mean, please, please, please,” Joost breathes, and you nod, pulling your fingers out and getting off the bed, even as he swears at the absence of you inside of him—what he gets, you guess as you rummage around the drawer for your black leather harness and the strap.

You set it all up for yourself—for him, feeling Joost’s eyes on you at the side of the bed, tightening straps and setting things into place. You strip off your shirt; it’s too hot now, even as you turn around and a breeze comes in through the window, running over you. It’s strong enough, he’s sensitive enough that the wind makes his hips buck into the air.

That look on his face��shy and sheepish, one you earn every time you show up at a show unexpected and he’s humped yet another speaker, said your name accidentally on purpose during “Ome Robert,” yelled “SCHAT I MISS YOU I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU SOON!!!!!!!” knowing you’d see it on Twitter or somewhere and running off stage and bumping into you almost knocking you over. That expression appears now when you turn back and catch him so needy that even the wind keeps him going while he waits for you.

With both hands, Joost covers his face and laughs—another familiar expression, this time one of yours—as you straddle him, and wait for him to come to you fully. You let him take the seconds he needs to bear with how much of a display being with each other is, laid bare completely to one another. Every confirmation you get that he feels it too feels like a blessing, somehow.

Settling higher up on his thighs, you’re forced to pause—“Wait, wait, schat,” Joost pants out, and you do, fingertips on his stomach as he wraps his big hand around both of your shafts. “I want to try something.”

“What do you wanna try, baby?” you ask softly, brushing his bangs back and looking down at his leaking cock. He still dwarfs you by an inch, and he’s thicker, but watching it happen… the slide of his foreskin against the soft length of your strap, the weeping head of it providing more than enough lubrication for his stroking hand and his bucking hips into his tight fist.

If you weren’t in awe and watching him and his closed eyes, his beautiful eyelashes spread out across his pink dusted cheeks, you'd tell him to stop, save his energy for later. For now, you watch and listen and wait for those wondrous and higher pitched moans of his, the composure he had all thrown to the wall and in his own hands now.

“Ik wil het binnen,” Joost moans. “Laat me niet wachten,” he says, still stroking himself, eyebrows furrowed and eyes half-lidded with want, biting down on his lower lip—his eyes roll back in his head in pleasure when you cup his cheek, when you touch him of your own volition again.

“Who’s the one making you wait, hm?” you ask softly. “You or me?”

“Me,” he replies, so good for you. You smile as you move back a little, coming free from his grip and coming to find the discarded lube bottle on the bed. Uncapping it, you squeeze out more on your palm, hoping it’ll warm more with a thinner layer.

“Can you…I wanna feel…” you tilt your head at him, waiting for the rest. “Can you add more lube, maybe? I want…I want to feel wet, I don't know.” He can’t even look you in the eye when he confesses it to you, and you don’t want to push him too far—he treats you gentle when you’re like this, you’ll treat him the same.

“Alright, baby, we can do that,” you purr, squirting more lube on your hand, on the shaft of your strap itself. You spread it around, stroking it; he gives himself a few lazy jerks as you tease the wet tip of your strap against his hole. “That wet enough for you?”

“Mhm,” Joost nods, sighing out when you push your hips a little further, watching as the head pops in with how open he is already. He smiles at you, entrancing and gorgeous, eyes half-lidded, lips curled in a small smirk and bitten pink. He looks down when you inch a little more, mouth dropped open slightly with his mewls. You both watch as it enters him, slowly, stretching around you.

In the heat of the moment, you almost let out a moan yourself like you can feel the sensation through the strap—maybe you can. Joost makes you feel so strongly all the time, it wouldn’t be a surprise to you.

“I love you,” Joost breathes, strong thighs loosely wrapped around your hips as he beckons you over to him for a kiss, his arms around you as you lick into his mouth, fuck into him. “Fuuuuckkk, Daddy, you’re so deep,” he moans exaggeratedly, biting his lip and winking at you when he pulls back, and you laugh, “Shut the fuck up,” as he cackles.

You straighten back up so you can have an easier time moving your hips, Joost already shuddering with the heightened sensitivity he surely has. The rhythm is awkward, barely there at all; you’re still learning how to thrust and wondering how he does it so well—to make up for it, you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him faster than your slow and shallow thrusts inside.

Joost sighs, “You’re holding back—why? Even if you thrust like Cbat, I would love it, come on, please.”

Rolling your eyes—both at being called out and how needy he is—you start, “Do you realize, Joost—“ you let go of his cock, and he shoots you a look, “How much I love you? I don’t think you do. I'm not holding back.”

“You’re holding back,” he says flatly, and you roll your eyes again. Such a brat. “I can tell, I know you. I know how much you love me,” you pull your hips back, pulling out almost completely and the sensation makes him waver, you know it, “And I know you are holding back. Simple as that.”

You pull back, slow, and then drive your hips forward harshly, bottoming out inside and dragging against his spot in the process, forcing a choked out moan from him.

Joost has his head thrown back on the pillow as you start your thrusts, focusing hard on a rhythm that’ll have him go crazy; it seems like it won’t take much, a series of “ah ah ah” falling out of his mouth with every movement.

For a few moments, it’s just that—your thrusts, his heavy breaths, the sound of lube and skin and your thighs meeting his ass, the leather and the soft plush of his legs against each other.

Joost is gorgeous and you’ll admire this for the rest of time—just the beautiful sight of him, flushed, one hand wrapped around the wireframe of your shared bed, the other jerking his drooling cock as you fuck him open.

The breeze rustles your curtains, your ceiling fan going as fast as if possibly can, rickety alongside the squeak of your mattress and the panting from Joost’s pretty mouth—you’ve never felt warmer, more turned on in your life thrusting into him as he whimpers out your name, holding onto your forearms as you seat and unseat yourself from inside him.

“Fuck, schat,” he whines, the hollow slaps of skin against skin the background noise to your perfect summer night. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks down at himself, watches what's happening to him, how you have him in your palm.

“My pretty boy,” you coo, brushing his bangs out of his eyes, though you can’t quite move the ones stuck with sweat on his forehead. “You’re being so good for me, schat, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I can believe it,” he smiles weakly as you smooth your hand over his chest, pinch his nipple.

You rock into him, over and over, sweat forming on your skin, the slide inside easy, leisurely. On his back, legs spread, your fingers running over his tattoo of Belgium and LINK IN BIO and the maid—your mattress squeaks with your movements, and Joost only gets louder with every movement, moaning out “Yes, yes, yes,” “I love you, please give it to me,” “Ik wil het, ik wil het alemaal,” nodding, rambling with how drunk he is off your strap.

“Naughty mouth, Joost,” you remark, snickering at how talkative he gets in this state.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes closed as he takes it so well.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my baby,” you say as you push down on his thigh, opening him up further so you can get deeper, Joost taking you to the base, his cock twitching wildly with pleasure in his hand as he strokes himself, weeping milky white precum as he gets closer and closer to his climax.

Lucky, lucky, lucky. You are lucky to have him, lucky to see him like this. A comet in the sky, once in a hundred lifetimes, his spilled Bacardi cola down your dress and the rest of your life as its wonderful puddle on a sticky club floor. Your purse with the faint brown edges of the stain and its fraying hems from continued use hangs on the coat rack downstairs.

How lucky to have met each other. All those nights made worth it by this and his smile and his art and him.

You fear looking too sappy, but either way—he’s too distracted by the way you’re fucking him to care.

“Schat, I’m gonna cum,” Joost moans, and you nod, keeping the pace of your hips steady, angling so it’ll hit his prostate just right. Again and again until he’s a whining mess, not even saying anything comprehensible, groaning and watching you with his mouth dropped open in pleasure, holding his legs open for you like a good boy. “Ik vind het geweldig, ik hou van je,” he breathes, his breath hitching as he jerks himself off.

Joost is so gorgeous overwhelmed, pink cheeks as you run your hand over his soft stomach, his chest, his arm until you reach his hand which he intertwines his fingers with yours. You never get to see him in this state much—losing himself getting off. Normally, you’re the one in this position, being caressed, talked through, taken care of. You decide in an instant that you’d like to see this more often than not.

A few more strokes of yours and Joost’s, and he cums, loudly, shooting all over his stomach and chest. “Stop touching yourself,” you say softly, and he whines in protest but takes his hand off, the last few drops of white dribbling out of his cock as you continue fucking him through his climax, forcing his moans out of his mouth, face contorted with the overstimulation you're giving him.

“Give it to me, right?” you ask as you keep thrusting, Joost’s whines low when you adjust your position so you’re half-lying on him, grinding into him as you hover over his face. “You want it all, you said?” He nods, and you kiss him deeply as you rut into him, milking him for everything he’s got. His hands roam your back, your ass, and you smile into it, licking into his mouth; you’re interrupted by him sobbing out your name and you look down, his cock spurting clear fluid pathetically with your final sloppy thrusts.

You’re breathing heavy and you don’t even realize until Joost brings your lips to his and you have to take a few to catch your breath into his mouth, stilled inside of him, lying on top and your stomachs sticky with his cum. Your thighs are wet with your arousal; he’s sure to take care of that later, but for now, you pull back and gaze at him, stunning in this afterglow, blonde hair sweaty, chest rising and falling at the same rate as yours.

His eyes are closed, blissed out and smiling—”It’s hard, isn’t it? So tiring.”

You laugh and nod, “So tiring, but worth it.”

Getting up in the morning will be so difficult, especially when you know Joost will be right here next to you, sleeping and peaceful. You’re still inside, and frankly, you never want to leave.

“Bedankt voor alles, mijn liefste,” he whispers, and you kiss over his eyes, his cheeks when he does.

“Ik hou van je, Joost.”

i so appreciate everyone's patience with this fic as well :''') i hope you enjoyed!! special shoutout to @catholicfacade because u motivated me to keep writing this fic LOLOL <3 thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) askbox anon on hereeee - juno

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haveyoureadthismcytfic · 7 months ago

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Have You Read This MCYT Fic?

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olxvvxa · 6 months ago

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unspoken flames | joost klein x f!reader

part II

✦ wc: 2.7 k

✦ warnings: angst, friends to not really lovers, smoking, mentions of drinking, rpf

✦ summary: unexpected feelings can ruin even the most lasting friendship

✦ an: got a request about friends to lovers, but ofc i had to make this as angsty as possible hehe. i'm thinking about writing a second part so let me know if i should do it ;)

pushing your way through the crowd, you dreamed of nothing more than getting outside as quickly as possible. chaos surrounded you from all sides – the intense smell of sweat and alcohol mingled with the pounding bass of music that seemed to seep into your very bones. the lights cast surreal shadows on sweaty faces, adding to the overwhelming atmosphere. every step was a challenge, and every accidental brush with another body only heightened your urge to escape.

your gaze darted desperately until you finally spotted the much-desired metal door. its surface gleamed under the club's flashing lights. you fixed your full attention on it, ignoring everything else around you. with all your strength, you pushed it open, as if that single motion held the promise of freedom.

outside, everything felt different. the cold night wind wrapped around your overheated skin, soothing its burning sensation. the air smelled of dampness and the city, each breath filling you with a sense of renewed energy. you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning your back against the rough concrete wall. its cool surface seeped through the thin fabric of your clothing.

the wind played with your hair, lifting it gently, and you felt as though time had slowed. the chaos that had surrounded you moments ago now seemed like an unreal memory. the music still echoed in your ears, but it was muffled and distant. at last, you felt the tension go away, replaced by a calmness that filled every corner of your body.

you reached into your bag, feeling an abrupt need to deliver nicotine to your brain, desperate for relief. your fingers plunged into its depths, brushing against everything except what you were searching for.

“shit” you muttered under your breath, rummaging further into the abyss of your small, red bag. its contents seemed infinite, as if all the frustration built up in your body had found an outlet in this attempt to locate a cigarette. finally, your fingers brushed against the cool, metallic shape of your lighter, and soon after, you found the familiar pack of cigarettes.

you pulled a cigarette from the pack and placed it between your lips, the red lipstick marking the tip. your fingers trembled slightly as you brought the lighter closer to your face, focusing on the spark wheel. but instead of the expected flame, you only heard the dry click of it failing.

"are you kidding me?" you whispered desperately, trying to ignite a tiny flame, as if your determination could somehow bring that damn lighter back to life.

"really? right now?"

the wind toyed with the unlit cigarette in your mouth, and you began to wonder whether you should go back inside for a new lighter or just give up entirely.

you lifted your gaze, hoping someone might rescue you from this unfortunate situation. turning your head to the right, you heard voices and laughter coming from that direction. without thinking too much, you adjusted your coat on your shoulders, trying to look more composed than you felt, and headed toward them.

"uhm, hey, sorry to bother you…" you cleared your throat uncertainly as you approached.

three pairs of eyes immediately turned toward you, one pair in particular catching your attention. his eyes, shining in the streetlight, held something hypnotic that threw you off balance for a moment.

"i just wanted to ask if you might have a lighter to borrow?" you replied with a slightly tipsy smile, trying to mask your shyness. you noticed the corner of his lips lift in a nearly imperceptible grin before he reached into his pocket.

"anything for a beautiful lady" said the blonde, handing you the small metal object that gleamed in the lamplight.

you twirled the lighter in your fingers, examining its smooth surface as if you wanted to memorize this small but saving gesture. you looked up at the blonde and flashed him the widest smile you could manage at that moment.

"thank you" you said, your voice carrying sincere gratitude.

the blonde returned your smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"no problem. if I can help in a crisis, why not?" he joked, and the rest of the group smiled in amusement as well.

you pressed the lighter to your cigarette, finally letting the small flame catch the end. you inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine spread through your body. as you exhaled the smoke, you glanced at the blonde once more.

"you’re saving my life," you said half-jokingly, fully aware of how ironic it sounded.

and that’s how you met Joost. something in the air changed that evening, and from that moment on, everything was different. you weren’t sure if it was his warm smile or the effortless jokes he threw around, but something made you feel different. anyway, whatever began that night, on the cold sidewalk outside the club, was bound to develop into the most wonderful friendship you had ever experienced.

it didn’t take long for you to get to know his friends and each one of them loved you as much as you loved them. you felt like you had fallen into a big, loving family you never knew you were missing, though you never admitted it. they were there when you needed support – whether during a wild night full of laughter and alcohol, or in quiet conversations at three in the morning, when the world seemed heavier than usual.

still, it was joost who was the first thought that crossed your mind when you opened your eyes every morning, and the one who lingered in your thoughts as you drifted to sleep. your friendship was perfectly normal, at least on the surface. conversations flowed effortlessly, from casual jokes to deep discussions that lasted for hours. he was someone who knew how to make you forget everything that weighed you down. he could listen when words failed you.

there was nothing extraordinary about you two, yet you felt that every little gesture – the way he’d fix your hair after you made a joke too stupid not to laugh at, or how he could read the exhaustion in your voice before you even mentioned it – meant more than you were willing to admit.

in his presence, the world became simpler. sometimes it felt like you could tell him everything, and other times, silence was enough because you understood each other without words. at some point, he became a constant in your life, a part of your everyday routine.

that’s why, when you saw him that evening, talking to some girl at the bar, something inside you froze. his smile – the same one you knew so well – was directed only at her. you felt a kind of tightness in your stomach, somewhere between irritation and sadness, something you couldn’t name. your heart started to beat faster, and every second of watching them seemed like unnecessary cruelty.

“damn it” you muttered under your breath, turning away, but the image of the two of them had already burned itself into your memory.

for a moment, you tried to rationalize – after all, nothing had ever happened between you, right? just friendship, only friendship. that was how it was meant to be, how it should be. but the tightness in your stomach, the pang you felt each time he glanced toward someone else, told a completely different story.

you knew you were screwed. it wasn’t that you wanted something to change. it was the unwanted, painful realization that Joost had never been "just a friend" to you.

you returned to the group of your mutual friends, still trying to suppress the emotions that clouded your mind. your face felt as pale as a wall. not looking ahead, you bumped into Apson. he looked at you with slight concern, raising an eyebrow in worry, though his lips still wore a gentle smile.

“hey, y/n, where are you rushing off to? everything okay? you look like you've seen a ghost” he joked, trying to ease the tension that was clearly hanging in the air.

“i'm fine” you quickly replied, trying to sound convincing, though even to yourself, you sounded weak “i think i’m just feeling a little off.”

his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read something more from your face, but before he could say anything, you already looked away, ready to leave. everything inside you was screaming for escape – from this place, these people, and most of all, from the thought that had started to take root in your mind that evening.

you grabbed your coat and, throwing a quick “bye, everyone” over your shoulder, left the club. deep down, you were thankful Joost hadn’t been part of all this. you wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye that evening.

his smile, which had always made you feel good, now seemed like something you couldn’t bear. besides, what were you supposed to say to him? “you know, Joost, i think i’m starting to feel something for you, but i don’t know what to do about it”? it would be ridiculous. instead, you’d rather just disappear, give yourself a moment to calm down, to understand what exactly had just happened. for now, you didn’t want to think about what awaited you when you’d see him again.

lost in deep thought, you didn’t even notice when you found yourself at the door to your apartment. you turned the key with trembling hands, eager to get inside as quickly as possible. you shut the door behind you, and the tension in your body eased slightly, though the unease still clung to you. you needed nothing more right now than a shower and some sleep. you tossed your coat onto the chair, slipped off your shoes, and thought of nothing but a brief escape from your thoughts.

you stepped under the stream of hot water, feeling the tension finally start to ease. yet, despite everything, deep in your mind, you could still hear his laughter, see her gaze. you felt like you had come to a standstill, trapped in a circle that you yourself had created.

for a moment, you closed your eyes, trying to escape it all, but something inside told you that the night wasn’t over yet. the feeling of unease crushed you from the inside.

you stepped out of the warm shower, feeling a little better. your body craved sleep more than ever before. dressed in the first t-shirt and sweatpants you found, you looked more like a shadow of yourself than someone ready for bed. hurriedly, you entered your bedroom, closing the door behind you. your body was ready to forget about everything, even if just for a while.

you lay down on the bed, closing your eyes and immediately feeling the weight of your eyelids. it seemed that sleep would finally be your escape. suddenly, amidst the silence, a loud sound of the doorbell rang out.

you paused for a moment, as if the sound had pulled you out of your stupor. your heart began to race, and an unsettling thought crossed your mind – someone unexpectedly appeared at this hour. you slowly got out of bed, feeling every part of your body begging for rest, but you knew you had to check who it was.

before you could make it to the hallway, the sound repeated, louder, more insistent. only one person came to mind who could possibly show up at this hour. you cautiously opened the door, and before you could react, the tall blond with a mustache barged into your apartment. you closed the door behind him and turned toward the living room, where he now stood. he looked at you, his face tense. he was angry, very angry.

"it's nice to see you too" you blurted out suddenly, fed up with the strange tension hanging in the air. this was not how you wanted to spend your night.

"what the hell, y/n, what's going on with you?" he replied after a moment. his voice was full of frustration, and his eyes held not just anger, but fear "you walk out of the club without a word, don't answer your phone. i thought something happened to you, damn it!"

his words hit you like a cold shower and the mix of anger and fear made you feel like you were guilty of something you didn't fully understand yet. you paused, trying to calm down, but you couldn't explain why you had disappeared so suddenly. and you had really forgotten to charge the damn phone right when you got back.

"sorry," you muttered softly, though it didn't sound like a real apology "i just… needed to get away."

you couldn't tell him everything. you couldn't reveal your feelings, because you were afraid it would ruin everything. you couldn't lose him.

"you needed to get away?" Joost almost shouted "from what exactly, that you had to disappear without anyone knowing where you were?"

his voice echoed in your apartment, and you felt the tension inside you grow. Joost's words were like blades, hitting straight at your heart. you knew he was right, that you had run away without explaining, but you couldn’t find the right words to explain why. how could you tell him that seeing him with that girl made you want to disappear?

"Joost, i…" you started, but your voice cracked. you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself "i just… felt stuffy. i needed some air."

his gaze became even more intense. there was something in it that made you want to both hide from him and scream everything that had been weighing on your heart.

"stuffy? really, y/n? you think i’m going to believe it’s just about some damn need for air? i’ve known you long enough to know when something’s off!"

you didn’t know how to respond. the truth hung on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out, but you held it back at the last moment. could you risk everything you had by telling him what was really going on?

"Joost, drop it. it doesn't matter. as you can see, i'm alive, i'm fine, and i just want to go to bed already" you replied evasively.

he looked at you with raised eyebrows. he wasn’t buying your words. in his eyes, there was still a mixture of frustration and concern that made you feel even more trapped.

"don’t try to feed me such bullshit" he said in a lowered voice, but his tone didn't lose any of its intensity "i know you better, y/n. i’m not an idiot. something’s wrong, and you’re pushing me away as if that’s going to change anything."

you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came. Joost stood in front of you, still looking at you with determination, making you feel like you were backed into a corner.

"i’m not letting go" he added, taking a step toward you "so either you tell me what's going on, or i’ll stand here all night."

"great, well, i wish you a good night then" you threw back, wanting to end this conversation before it completely got out of control. you tried to walk past him toward the bedroom, but Joost was faster.

he grabbed your arm, turning you toward him. his gaze drilled into you, intense and full of emotions that seemed too complicated to read.

"we're not done" he said quietly but firmly "you can’t just brush me off like that. not after you left me in the club without a word."

he was so close now that you felt all the emotions you'd been suppressing throughout the evening rise to the surface with double the force.

"Joost…" you began, but he quickly interrupted you.

"i want to know. why did you run away? what happened?" his voice was no longer angry, but rather full of desperation, which gripped you harder than his hand on your shoulder.

Joost looked at you, and his words echoed in your mind like a mantra. there was something in them that broke down all the walls you had so carefully built. feeling like you couldn’t run away anymore, you gathered the courage to look him straight in the eye.

"why?!" you asked almost screaming "what would you do if i told you i couldn’t stay there because… because seeing you with her, at that damn bar, made me want to disappear?!"

his face froze, and his hand slowly lowered from your shoulder, as if each of your words pierced him deeper than he could have predicted. the room fell silent, but in your head, it was loud.

"what do you mean by that?" he asked finally, his voice a shadow of the anger he had earlier, replaced now by something more delicate, more fragile.

you took a deep breath, feeling like there was no turning back.

"that seeing you…" you started, but your words broke "seeing you with someone else makes me feel like someone is ripping my heart out. because, damn it, Joost, i think about you every day, every night, and what i saw today just made me realize i'm alone in all of this!"

the air between you thickened to the point where you felt like you could barely breathe. Joost stood still, and his eyes were filled with something that made you regret your words for a moment. at the same time, you knew you had to say it, even if it meant everything might change.

Joost looked at you with such an expression that for a moment, you hoped what you said would change something. but then his lips twitched, and a mix of regret and uncertainty appeared in his eyes, effectively crushing that hope.

"y/n…" he started, his voice soft, almost breaking. "i- i don't know what to say."

he took a step back, as if he needed space, and his hand rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"you’re one of the most important people in my life," he continued, each word feeling like another sting "but… i just don’t see us that way..."

those words pierced you like a knife. you felt your heart contract with pain, and the world around you seemed to blur.

"i don’t want to lose you" he added quickly, as if afraid that every glance from you meant the end of your relationship "but what you feel… i can’t give you that."

you didn’t know what to say. every word seemed inadequate and the silence between you was heavier than anything you’d ever experienced.

"i’m sorry..." he said finally, his voice trembling, but he couldn’t look you in the eye.

and before you could speak, before you could react in any way, Joost turned and left, closing the door behind him. you were left alone in your apartment, surrounded by a silence that sounded louder than any sound.

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x y/n #joost klein x you #joost klein angst #joost klein #joost

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