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totallynotslothhh · 19 days ago

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HOLD ME TIGHT PT.3

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,562

warning: lot of angst, smut, sex in the shower, smoking, alcohol, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF.

description: After days of inner torment for y/n, she finally find a way to meet Joost. Will their relationship be mended or be permanently destroyed?

author’s note: I don’t know how to describe the way I’m feeling, staying up until six in the morning doesn’t do me any good, not at all, but it’s such a sweet addiction. I modeled the main character as a whiner but we like it that way so it's okay

Honestly, I was really torn about whether to end this fanfiction badly or good, IDK, read it and let me know what you think. It makes me happy to read your tears and your thoughts.

I’m starting to work on some of the requests you’ve sent me, and don’t worry, they’ll be published soon.

That said, I leave you to your despair.

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

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The plaster on my ceiling was particularly interesting at 3:25 in the morning.

The heartbeat in my chest echoed through my ears and every inch of my body. I could feel the softness of the pajamas I was wearing and the discomfort of the mattress beneath me, which felt like stone against my back. My eyes were tired, but they couldn’t truly rest, kept busy by a mind racing, fueled by the caffeine I had consumed throughout the day.

I glanced at the space beside me in bed, seeing it empty, cold, the sheets crumpled from my restless tossing and turning.

I turned again onto my side, one hand tucked beneath my cheek and the other slowly stroking the empty spot where, up until two weeks ago, Joost’s body used to rest, sleeping, relaxed, stripped of all thoughts.

The premature nostalgia that flowed through my veins had settled over me like a cloak, always there, every moment of my life.

-This is your fault.-

It was my fault.

It all happened at the wrong time.

We didn’t even argue, we didn’t have a real confrontation. That night after the concert, he simply took me home and said nothing the entire drive.

The silence weighed heavier than any insult would have.

It stabbed me straight through the heart. The exact moment I felt the world collapse on me was when he let go of my face, stared at me for a few seconds, then simply nodded.

That moment: when I saw the deep disappointment in his eyes, a disappointment I had caused, I knew I had broken any chance of letting the feelings between us grow.

He didn’t say a word, but I could read it on his face: the regret, maybe even the shame of having kissed me, of having tried to show me he wanted something more. I understood what he felt, and because of that, I didn’t try to justify myself.

I didn’t start a conversation, didn’t try to touch him, didn’t argue. I let his hands fall away from my face.

And just like that, our relationship ended that night with a goodbye and the thick silence we shared.

I scoffed softly, biting my bottom lip, breath caught in my lungs as chills ran down my spine.

I missed Joost so painfully much.

I missed having him in my life, missed him being a safe place to fall, a warm space to hold onto, someone to share empty days with.

I missed being the girl he would run to, the girl he cared about, the girl he’d let help him through hard times.

I liked that he liked me.

I liked having his hands on me.

I liked kissing him, touching him, making him feel that someone was there for him.

I liked being his.

I liked that he was mine.

-Then why did you make it so complicated?-

-Then why did you slip from his grasp?-

-Then why did you run back to your ex at the first chance you got?-

I closed my eyes, gripping the bedsheet, curling into myself, trying to relax enough to fall asleep.

Sleep never came, not after ten minutes, not after two hours of my thoughts blurring together into tangled black smoke, overlapping and chaotic.

I wasn’t expecting attention from anyone. No good morning texts, no “how are you?”, no calls.

Not even from my ex, though we had exchanged a few messages since that encounter.

He wanted to meet again, and even though part of me didn’t want to, the other part felt so insecure it believed I wouldn’t find anyone better than him, that maybe he genuinely did regret how he had treated me.

I didn’t truly trust him, I was forcing myself to.

I had already lost Joost.

I had already lost the one thing that made me feel above the mess I was used to.

I had already lost my anchor.

I opened my eyes again, looked at the clock, and sighed deeply at what it showed: 5:00 AM.

-You need to wake up, you’re twenty years old and thinking like a fifteen-year old.-

I stared at the closed window and finally decided to get up and take a shower.

Maybe it would clear my head a bit, maybe it would bring on the sleep I desperately needed.

Or at least, that’s what I hoped. What I believed.

But by then, I had entered a loop that would be hard to break, unless I let time pass.

Time, vast waterfalls of it. Flowing rivers of minutes, seconds, hours, thick and out of sync with the world around me.

Time that moved slowly, quickly, chaotically.

Time with a soft, almost invisible ticking, and then loud, fast, powerfully real, like the stream of hot water I had just turned on, hitting the cold, damp floor and slowly warming it.

I looked at myself in the mirror and in the dim light, I focused on the details I never normally noticed in my reflection: pale skin, trembling hands from nicotine and caffeine and all my bad habits, messy hair and dry lips, sadness in my eyes and shallow breath.

My fragile frame drenched in thoughts.

-Do you really think someone could love you?-

Why were these thoughts coming back?

Why were tears so quick to pool in my eyes?

Why didn’t I feel like myself anymore?

I had to self-sabotage, like always.

I had to find a way to ruin everything, like always.

I ran my tongue over my lips and decided to ignore, once again, the frayed wires in my head. I finished undressing and stepped into the shower, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure at the feel of the scalding water on my skin.

A sigh of pleasure that, the last time, had been caused by Joost, in that very same shower.

“Do you always take your showers this hot?” His warm whisper filled my ear, making me giggle from the tickling sensation his hands created on my waist.

“It’s not that hot” I protested, pressing my wet back against his chest, closing my eyes and savoring the water cascading over my body, deliberately leaning my face into the stream.

“Yes, it is” he argued, pulling me closer, his hands moving curiously along my waist, one sliding up to cup my breast, the other gliding down to my thigh.

I smiled, tilting my head against his shoulder, and soon felt his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses.

“Mhhh… do you have to leave right after the shower?” I whispered, the only background sound being the steady trickle of the water. I tangled one hand into his wet hair, and he nearly moaned at the grip.

“I’ve got to go to the studio, come with me” he said almost pleading, gently fondling my breast and trailing his other hand back to my warm waist.

“I can’t, dummy, I have work” I muttered, stifling a moan, biting my lower lip and gently scratching his scalp.

“Come on, come with me” he whispered, brushing his lips along my cheek as he pinched my hardened nipple, making me let out a soft, closed-eyed moan. I arched my back, letting my hand travel to his neck, feeling his hips push against my backside.

“I can’t, Joost…” I murmured, now both his hands were on my breasts, caressing and kneading my excited nipples. The need to feel like his again gave me a strange kind of peace.

“You’re so boring” he chuckled, nibbling on my earlobe, licking it and kissing it. I had time to stop him, to turn in his embrace and press my chest against his, arms around his shoulders. I locked eyes with him and giggled, kissing his lips and feeling him breathe against me.

My hands roamed: one resting on his cheek, the other tangled in his hair, pulling him under the shower, letting him soak, crouching just enough to make up for our height difference. He gave my breast one last squeeze before holding my hips, responding to the heated, wet kiss I had started with slow, sweet strokes of his tongue against mine. I pulled back after a few seconds, trailing small kisses, making him laugh low in his chest.

“How do you fuck someone this boring?” I teased, standing on my toes, pressing my needy body against his, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

He grabbed the backs of my thighs, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist.

“I’ll keep fucking you, because you’re the most beautiful, intelligent, and sexy boring girl ever” he murmured into my face, pressing my back against the cold, damp shower wall. The sudden contact made me arch with a shiver, goosebumps all over.

“Don’t ever leave me…” I whispered, touching my forehead to his, kissing his lips again, moving my hips slowly against his and feeling his half-hard length against me.

“I’m not going anywhere” he said in the middle of the kiss, grinding into me gently, holding me firmly in his arms.

“Promise me” I whispered, breathless, letting our breaths blend. I pulled back just enough to hold his face, locking our gazes. I looked at him, his wet hair flat against his head, his still-sleepy eyes, parted lips curled into a soft smile, the pink tip of his nose, his heavy and hungry breaths.

“Promise.” he murmured with a smile, brushing his lips softly against mine, savoring them inch by inch, hands gripping my thighs as he moved his hips. I felt his length rub against my entrance, stimulating my bare clit and pulling a moan from deep inside my chest. My fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Is it okay if we do it here?” he asked in a rough voice, breaking the kiss to start worshiping my breasts. He bent to my right one, taking the nipple into his mouth and, without giving me a second to process, started sucking slowly, occasionally leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” I panted, throwing my head back, melting into the now-warm marble wall, letting go in his protective arms.

“We don’t have a condom. You sure, baby?” he checked, halting both his thrusts and his mouth, lifting his gaze to meet mine, needing to be sure.

I smiled at him, tugging his blond locks with greedy hands.

“It’s okay. Just pull out” I said, licking my lips, smiling at the immediate nod he gave, like a puppy.

I still had my legs around his waist, his hands all over me. I felt his bare length against my core before he slowly pushed inside, his moans of pleasure echoing right into my ear.

The moans I let out after were heightened by the bathroom’s acoustics, his face buried in my shoulder.

Feeling him so deep, then moving slow at first, then more erratic, more intense, more forceful, made my shoulders tense.

I shut my eyes, curled my toes, and rolled my hips into his as much as space allowed, moving with him.

But it wasn’t just the act itself that made me feel that way.

It wasn’t the simple, mechanical rhythm of our hips meeting.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was everything.

Everything that made the pleasure so deep.

Our hearts beating at the same pace; my sensitive breasts rubbing against his chest; his tense muscles; his whispers dissolving into the steam; his moans; his hands; his scent; the promise he had just made… the thought that it was Joost making love to me, that he cared this much, that we could kiss like this…

I was falling, deeply, into someone. So fast, so soon.

Then it was all gone.

Now I was alone in the shower, the water pouring over me, my forehead resting on the cold marble, lips parted not in moans, but in the struggle for breath, for humid air and any oxygen I could catch to keep my breathing steady.

I washed myself alone, holding the sponge tightly in my hand.

Joost wasn’t here to make me laugh, to kiss every inch of my body before soaping it up, always trying to keep his eyes on mine.

“Stop it, idiot” I’d mumble, laughing, feeling him kiss my stomach all over, then dragging the sponge over it with delicate-scented body wash.

“Idiot? I’m worshipping you and you call me an idiot?” he’d exaggerate, pulling away to look at me from below. I’d smile, stupidly, running my hands through his freshly washed hair, washed by me, and pulling him up to get a kiss.

A kiss that wouldn’t come now, that had no place under this hot water that had taken his systematic role.

I wouldn’t be held right before he pushed me into orgasm, whispering: “Fuck, you drive me insane, you make me so weak.”

I wouldn’t cum on his length. He wouldn’t hold the rhythm just to help me ride that orgasm. I wouldn’t feel his release warm on my belly. I wouldn’t have my vision blocked by his head and his lips kissing me after, hungrily, devouring me.

I wouldn’t feel that good.

It wasn’t just sex. And I saw that clearly now, six in the morning, under the shower and lost in memories of that morning nearly three weeks ago.

“But out of all possible futures, fate chose the one where we’re apart;

And we were impossible, and couldn’t make up our minds;

And even if I’ve shut the door, I’ve learned to live with it;

I still feel the draft from invisible windows:

From all the futures I could’ve had with you.”

“I told you I don’t feel like it, why do you have to insist?” I snapped, whining, leaning back against my kitchen counter, putting on a bothered expression and arms crossed tightly over my chest.

“Please, y/n! You can’t stay in here all day. It’ll do you good to get out, and come on, you’ll be with me, what could go wrong?” said one of my closest friends, the kind who had known me since I was little and knew exactly how to handle me, how to convince me or comfort me.

“I don’t feel like it. I said no” I answered firmly, shaking my head, holding her gaze and when I saw her face turn serious, I already knew where this was going.

“You’re letting a situation with your ex ruin you, can’t you see that? He made you push that nice guy away, he’s pushing you away from your friends, from everything you loved doing before he left. Is it really worth it, y/n? What are you punishing yourself for? For being naive and falling for it? Okay, it happens. You messed up, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer forever as penance” she said in that calm but firm tone that made my heart ache. Because I already knew all those things. I knew that’s why I was acting like this because deep down I knew I had messed up, even though that mistake still carried a big question mark.

Joost had come into my life at the wrong time, a time too fragile for my soul.

A time that had left his soul aching.

I sighed, hiding my face in my hands, thinking: if I saw him again that night, it would be a dreamy nightmare, a gust of air too fresh, an embrace too tight to let me breathe. And in fact, the oxygen stopped flowing to the aching branches of my lungs, my eyes dried out, my hands trembled and my feet suddenly became sensitive to the not-too-high heels I’d put on to match my outfit.

I parted my lips, dark purple from lipstick, and the alcohol that had been in my system for at least an hour amplified everything.

He was there, on the balcony of that house, smoking with a girl beside him who had just made him laugh with some joke. Tears welled up, and just as I was about to leave, to run away again, to go back into hiding, disappointed, angry, frustrated, my heart collapsed in a pit full of tar.

He met my gaze across the distance.

Our two worlds, so painfully far apart and yet frighteningly close, had collided.

The pressure in my chest tightened, my fingers clenched the fabric of my long skirt, my brows furrowed in a pained expression. I knew my face didn’t reflect his: I stood still, unmoving, with a melancholic stare that screamed nothing but hurt and anger.

-So it’s a habit of his to flirt with girls like that, huh?-

His expression didn’t soften when he saw me, but it didn’t harden either. Just a few seconds of eye contact, but enough to throw my mind into chaos, and maybe his, too.

The alcohol in my body was starting to burn my stomach.

-Is it the alcohol, or is it him?-

I was the first to look away, turning and biting my lower lip to stop myself from breaking down. I couldn’t let him see me like that.

Him.

The one who, up until two weeks ago, was my entire world.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my skirt, grabbing the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out with trembling fingers and walking toward the entrance door, escaping as fast as I could. The music from inside still faintly echoed outside, a cruel soundtrack to the chaos and hurt inside me, wounds inflicted by my own thoughts and feelings.

I sat on the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees. After a bitter drag of my cigarette, I buried my face in my arms.

My nose began to sting, tears started falling, not just carrying that salty trace of emotion, but also the black mascara that I wiped off my cheeks with the back of a shaking hand.

I sobbed and let it all out:

Seeing Joost.

Being at that party.

Not feeling sober.

Feeling like I couldn’t do anything to draw his attention back to me.

Feeling trapped in a volcano of emotion.

Feeling like I could never be that girl beside him again.

I opened my tear-filled eyes, stifling a sob, inhaling the awful air from the cigarette. I’d decided I’d leave as soon as it was finished. I’d come to this party with my friend, but I’d walk home alone, I didn’t care to stay even a second longer. For what? To drink more until I felt sick? To try not to think of Joost? No way. I had to go.

-You’re running away from your responsibilities again-

Those responsibilities slapped me in the face and sat right beside me just after I put out the cigarette. They had come looking for me, chasing me down a second time.

I lifted my head and curled into myself even more when I saw him. I leaned my cheek against my knees, completely tuning out the sound of my heart threatening to collapse.

My eyes still ringed with messy black makeup, his figure now fully visible:

Black jeans.

His signature boots.

A white t-shirt covered in scribbles.

Black hat tilted to the side, with blonde strands sticking out messily from under it.

A thick black jacket, heavy enough for the October cold.

He sat right next to me.

Only a centimeter between us.

He mirrored my posture: knees to chest, head against the wall, lips pressed tight.

The silence between us was destined to last just a few seconds, just long enough to look at each other and exchange a glance that said everything and nothing all at once.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay out here any longer” The warmth in his voice made me shiver. I felt at home again, in a warm, safe place. I looked away, curling deeper into myself.

“I’m leaving soon anyway” I whispered so softly I surprised myself that he heard it. I rested my cheek back on my knee and looked at him again. He let out a light chuckle, shaking his head, and leaned off the wall just enough to shrug off his jacket.

I watched silently as he draped it over my shoulders, covering my back completely.

“You’re leaving because you don’t want to talk to me” he said, more as a fact than a question. He adjusted the collar gently, waiting for me to hold onto the fabric, to pull it tighter around myself, to cling to his warmth and scent.

“You’ve got good company already” I mumbled, eyes fixed to the ground, curling into the jacket like a cocoon, only daring to look up when I heard him laugh.

“Why are you laughing? Is it not true?” I raised my eyebrows, a flicker of irritation growing inside me, adding to the weight I’d hoped to shed.

“So you still care” he said, leaning back fully against the wall and locking his eyes on mine, trying to read me like he always used to.

A new realization hit me. Of course I still cared.

How could I not?

Despite everything, he had come to talk to me. To find me. To chase me, like a child trying to catch a runaway butterfly.

“Yes…” I let the word slip through my lips like a fragile truth, finally shedding a weight but feeling like I was standing at a crossroads. He glanced down at his hands folded over his knees, a faint smile tugging at his lips, revealing his dimples.

“Then why did you run away like that? Why didn’t you explain anything, let the silence ruin it all?” he asked directly, and I hid my face again, feeling exposed, vulnerable, even though a part of me was relieved to finally face this mess of an issue.

-Don’t run away again-

-Don’t ruin it this time. Maybe there’s still hope.-

“I’m sorry” I started, barely audible. My heart was pounding again, my breath short, and the shivers returned to my skin.

“I didn’t want it to end like that… That day meant something, and I ruined it. I didn’t want to make you feel humiliated… I just needed time.” The words flowed out of me in a near-whisper, my face still hidden. I felt his gaze on me, his presence beside me, his warmth outside and inside me beginning to soothe everything again.

“Time I ended up not even needing… I- Joost, I miss you.” I lifted my head and met his gaze, his eyes already fixed on me, like I’d guessed.

Silence followed, heavy with everything we weren’t saying. Then his cold hand found mine, gently squeezing it, his thumb brushing over the back.

“We’re two complicated people, huh?” The irony in his voice softened the atmosphere, making me chuckle quietly. He smiled, too.

“I miss you, too… And I owe you an apology, for not being understanding, for not talking to you that night… for not giving you enough time.” He spoke while pulling me closer through our joined hands. I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes, letting his voice wrap around me.

“I knew you were just out of a long relationship. I should’ve expected it. I didn’t choose to fall for you so hard” he finished, bringing my hand to his lips and planting soft kisses on my skin, kisses that tasted like home.

I realized then that all I ever needed was him, his touch, his spontaneous words, his hugs, his kisses.

I realized I needed his love.

A love I wasn’t used to receiving like that, and one that had probably scared me at first.

“Joost…” I murmured, lifting my face toward his, and in his expression, I saw softness. Despite everything, he could still look at me that way.

“I love you, and I knew it far too soon for the situation we were in” he cut in gently, eyes drifting between my eyes and lips.

That sentence was exactly what I’d said earlier, a hug too tight to let me breathe. My breath caught in my throat, tears filled my eyes again, and a bittersweet smile curled on my lips in front of him.

He loved me. He still wanted me.

-Take this path. Open your heart again. Live these moments.-

“You have no idea how long I waited for you to be single” he said, smiling, “At every party or event, I’d see you from afar and think only about how much I wanted to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I won’t lie… when I heard you broke up, I was pretty happy.” His words made me laugh and cry all at once. A single tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly with my free hand.

“You don’t know how long I wanted you. That night, after my performance, all I wanted was to show you how much I loved you.” He kept talking but I didn’t let him finish.

I leaned in, cupping his face and pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss; one that held all the words I couldn’t say out loud.

It held all the love I had for him, for that pure soul I was so afraid I had broken. He shivered under my touch and kissed me back, our tongues meeting after just a second of realization, this was a kiss we’d both been waiting for.

I felt his nose brushing mine, his scratchy stubble tickling me, his full lips confirming what I’d finally understood: he was mine.

“I love you too” I whispered, and his full smile lit up his whole face. He leaned in again, kissing me harder this time, hands finding my waist, pulling me against him.

Maybe the setting wasn’t perfect.

Maybe the cold had taken over his bare arms while he kept me warm.

Maybe everything had been wrong.

Or maybe, maybe it was finally right.

The words, the feelings, the touch.

Everything fell into place, my heart finally wrapped in bandages after all that pain.

The moments that followed were poetry for our souls.

We decided to go home, but the passion didn’t turn into sex, it didn’t become something to be consumed. We lay in bed, the empty, cold side now belonging to Joost again, the only one who belonged there.

His arms wrapped around my waist, his head buried against my chest, his eyes closed, and my hands tangled in his hair.

Just like the first time.

Same position.

Same closeness.

But with new awareness, new feelings, and a peace that filled us from within.

“I promised you” he mumbled sleepily against my skin, hugging me gently and slipping his hands under my pajama shirt to caress me.

“Mh?” I whispered, confused, glancing at his half-asleep face.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you” he repeated, a sleepy pout forming after he lifted his gaze to mine.

I smiled, completely taken by the love I felt. I kissed his lips, then placed gentle kisses all over his face.

“I love you” I whispered against his forehead, leaving my last kisses there.

“I love you” he replied a few seconds later, looking at me with small, sleepy eyes, maybe his vision was blurry, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was feeling each other, body to body, speaking softly, and knowing our hearts belonged to one another.

#joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost fanfic #joost klein smut #joost klein x y/n #joost klein fluff #joost klein x you #joost klein angst #joost klein fanfic #joost klein rpf #fanficz

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totallynotslothhh · 21 days ago

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I really want to write a tear-jerking, soul-crushing ending, but at the same time I want tons of fluff and heart eyes… BUT ANGST IS CALLING TO ME AARGH internal conflict over the ending of a fanfiction💔

#joost klein x reader #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfic #I'm such a bad writer #yapp

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totallynotslothhh · 22 days ago

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tumblr is a private place. it's just me and the same 5 mutuals. It's intimate you get it

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totallynotslothhh · 22 days ago

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How I feel when you compliment me anonymously or when you comment on my fanfictions:

#fanfic #i love you #inbox😽

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totallynotslothhh · 22 days ago

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HOLD ME TIGHT PT.2

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,380

warning: angst, smut, fluff, spanking, crying, smoking, fwb

description: The relationship between Joost and y/n seems to be going well, seemingly about to evolve, but an event drastically shifts y/n’s perspective, starting to make everything crumble.

author’s note: Hi everyone, you have no idea how eager I was to publish the second part. I absolutely love writing heartbreaking and painful stuff, you’re going to have to suffer a little, BUT FEAR NOT, I’m already working on the third part, which I’ll try to release by the end of this week, or at the latest, the beginning of the next. Please be patient. While I was writing this fanfic, I had a vivid image of Joost in 2022, so I based everything on that version of him. However, since I kept the descriptions pretty broad, I think you’ll be able to imagine him from any early era in his career.

That said, I’ll leave you to the reading now, and I’ll see you soon (probably with some meltdowns).

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The first rainy days of September had started to appear: grey, cloudy days, with the humid air that still hinted at the summer heat, yet gently pushed you into the thought of the cold that was soon to come.

I inhaled from the cigarette filter, savoring the bitter but damnably familiar taste of smoke, staring out at the courtyard of my apartment and the street that stretched out from my bedroom window.

-You’ve been smoking more since you started seeing Joost.-

It had been two months since my first time with Joost.

Two months since the subject of my thoughts and worries had shifted. Two months since someone had come into my life who I didn’t yet know would become the most important person in it.

We had built a relationship of unstable balance. There was always a little piece of my day dedicated to us. Whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or evening, a quick text, a call, or a meeting, whether there was sex or not.

Sex was the major protagonist of our encounters and desires. It’s true, our friendship had become mostly physical, but there was always a margin of interest in each other. We shared a mutual affection that went beyond just the act.

It showed in the small things, things that seemed small but were actually huge.

For example, he remembered the brand of cigarettes I smoked, what foods I liked and disliked, he knew how to handle me when I was sad, knew what to do when I was nervous, could read me just from a glance.

I had become an open book. Even if I tried to pretend I didn’t care about him, I couldn’t pull it off: do heart-eyes come with every look?

-Your heart’s beating fast.-

Feeling that explosion of emotions terrified me: the thoughts that always drifted to him in my free moments, the desire to see him, that kind of anxious excitement before meeting up, the chills running over my skin the moment our eyes met. That wave of sensations scared me. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to start something new, especially since the wound from my last love was still fresh.

No longer bleeding, but still open and fragile.

So fragile that a single touch could make it bleed again.

Joost was healing a wound he hadn’t caused. Without knowing it, he was soothing me with a beautifully calming rhythm, slowly making me trust him.

-Did you sleep more last night, or am I wrong?-

But it wasn’t time yet.

Would that time ever come? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this relationship would end. Like everything else, even the good things come to an end.

Especially the good things.

The question was: would it end by evolving into something deeper, or would it break under the weight of our anxieties?

-Breathe. Relax. Enjoy the moment.-

I sighed, letting the smoke out through my nose. I rested my chin on my palm, holding the finished cigarette with the other hand.

That day, I felt particularly overwhelmed. I’d been working all morning, hadn’t carved out even a tiny bit of time for a break. Cigarettes were my “break,” if you could call it that: two minutes of filling my lungs with filth, paradoxically relaxing. Paradoxically warm.

I chuckled at the thought, glancing at my desk. It was messy and mirrored my state of being perfectly: scattered papers, small pencil sketches covering their surfaces alongside important notes, my laptop dying and about to shut off.

I took one last drag, then crushed the filter on the cold windowsill and finally closed the window.

Sniffling, I returned to my spot and checked my notifications.

No notifications.

-I want to be with Joost.-

I furrowed my brow and, without thinking twice, opened our chat, filled with quick messages but also silly or meaningful conversations. When we couldn’t see each other, any excuse was good enough to stay in touch.

Just a few minutes to make sure we weren’t letting go of each other. Holding on to that safe place.

“Wanna meet up later?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

Surprisingly, I got a reply immediately, before I even had time to put my phone down.

That was strange, considering Joost usually took forever to answer a message.

A carrier pigeon might’ve been faster at showing signs of life.

Sometimes I almost felt lucky to have him in my life. He was always busy with creative work, but still made the effort to give you attention.

“I was just about to text you and ask the same.”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

That message brought a shy, stupid, useless smile to my face. And as soon as I realized it, I shook my head, biting down on my lower lip.

-Was he thinking about me?-

“At your place?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

“Come over when you’re free.”

Sent today at 5:17 PM.

So, after reading that last message, I turned off my phone and stood up, stretching and mentally cursing the version of myself that had bought chairs as uncomfortable as they were beautiful.

Needless to say, I left work on hold, weighing the desire to see the guy who gave me orgasms worthy of divine classification, against the need to finish the work I had piled up.

A good worker would’ve chosen wisely.

At 9:00 PM, I was in his bed.

My exhaustion gone after yet another round of sex that served as a release from those heavy, endless days. The simple feeling of his lips on my body, his hands in my hair, his gaze on me, and his dick buried deep inside me while he praised me and told me how beautiful I looked naked. Well, it made me feel good.

My head rested peacefully on his chest, legs tangled in the white sheet and with his, while I lazily caressed his calf with the top of my foot. I felt his fingers softly travel across the warm skin of my back, his calm breathing rising and falling beneath the hand I’d placed on his chest, playing with the hair there, mimicking his movements.

The welcoming silence thundered in my ears. His heartbeat set the background to the thousand thoughts flowing gently through my mind. The feeling of truly being wanted cradled me.

It was those moments.

Those moments I lived with premature nostalgia, thinking of when we’d part, of how much I’d miss them when I’d be alone, of how stupid I was for starting something like this.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep, raspy voice, thick from silence and exhaustion, made me shrug, caught slightly off guard.

“Nothing” I answered in a whisper, letting my hand glide across his stomach and down his side, trying to cuddle closer. In response, he gently turned toward me, letting me curl into him even more.

“Liar, you’re too quiet” he said, wrapping me in his warm, pale arms, brushing a hand against my cheek, which was now tinged with a soft blush.

“Just tired” I whispered, almost not wanting to break the silence between us.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes, now narrow slits, likely trying to focus on me. He looked so innocent with that little curious pout, without his glasses, and with messy hair.

“Hungry? Want to order something?” he offered, stroking my cheek with his thumb, keeping his gaze on me, at least as much as he could.

“Maybe later” I nodded, savoring the warmth his palm gave me as it cradled my face. Touch was definitely a language that went beyond words. It was an expression of love that reassured me I wasn’t making a mistake.

Physical closeness made me feel safe, made me feel wanted.

“I really want to kiss you” he murmured a moment later, making me smile as I felt the grip of his other hand tighten, more eager, on my bare waist. I looked at him and noticed the hint of sleep in his expression. It made me laugh, because I already knew where this would end: kissing sloppily, filling the room with wet sounds, soft moans, and giggles.

“How will you do that if you can’t see?” I raised my eyebrows, watching his confused frown fade as I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed his thick glasses. Both his hands slid to my hips, and I felt his lips lazily rest on my shoulder.

“I still don’t get how you manage to see anything” I shifted slightly, putting his glasses on him and holding his face to lift his gaze toward mine. His sleepy expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were more focused now, filled with desire, mirrored in the way he gripped my warm, tingling skin.

This boy made me feel everything.

In seconds, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. We started kissing, our tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I felt his breath growing heavier, his grip dropping to my ass. I kept one hand on his face and the other resting gently on his chest. He bit my lower lip and pushed his hips involuntarily against my thigh, his half-hard length pressing against me. He squeezed one cheek and kept kissing me hungrily.

I moaned into his mouth and instinctively brought my other hand to his cheek too, caressing him with my thumbs and pulling myself closer.

I felt overwhelmed, and it was the most beautiful feeling, because I knew, no matter what, Joost would be there to handle it.

He pulled away for a second to look at me. To observe my flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, glossy lips parted just enough to breathe. He gently pushed me under him, letting his hands explore my waist again.

“I could kiss you without stopping” he murmured warmly against my cheek, making me smile and move my hands to his shoulders. He began kissing his way from my cheek to my lips, then down my body, leaving little bites that drew soft moans from my throat.

“I’m bringing you to my next concert” he whispered against the warm skin of my chest, looking up at me but never stopping his trail of kisses.

“What?” I giggled, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him up for a kiss. I hadn’t quite caught the meaning of that sentence, I was more focused on how wet he’d just made me again.

-Didn’t catch it, or didn’t want to?-

“You said you’d like to come. I got you a backstage pass” he repeated, kissing my lips again before nestling into my neck, not giving me time to fully process it. I paused, eyes widening, pulling away slightly to stop him from kissing and distracting me more.

“Really?” I whispered, laughing and halting my hands in his hair. He looked up and locked eyes with mine.

“Yeah, You told me once you’d like to be there.”

I had told him. Almost a month ago. And he had remembered.

He had remembered that tiny sentence buried in a much larger conversation about his budding music career.

“you remembered it..” I whispered, unable to hold back a smile, which brought one to his face too. I felt his hands grip my hips, and his face disappeared from my view as he buried it once again in my neck.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me” he said, sliding a hand between my legs, pressing his middle finger against my clit, then moving it between my already wet lips. I clenched around nothing, arching my back slightly and grabbing a fistful of his blond hair.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” That phrase made me shiver and moan, writhing under the continuous pressure at my throbbing center.

“Yes… don’t stop- keep.. keep going” I murmured with closed eyes as I felt his fingers slowly push inside me, deepening the sensation alongside the bites he placed on my skin.

“I can’t wait to take you backstage, to fuck you, to cover your mouth while I pull your hair” he murmured. That image only heightened everything, his fingers curling inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lower lip, my breath quickening as chills ran down my spine. The heat from his body, the sheets, and the pleasure itself was so comforting I could’ve melted right then and there.

I felt his hips press against my thigh, his growing hardness brushing against my skin.

“Please, Joost…” I whispered, opening my eyes and tugging gently on his hair to lift his face. He did so, increasing the rhythm of his fingers, eyes locked onto my expression, entirely lost in pleasure.

“Turn around” he instructed softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to my lips. I opened my mouth and welcomed them, tasting myself as I sucked them hungrily. His breathing grew heavier, his arousal harder against my leg, and his smile deepened as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. I licked them thoroughly before releasing them.

“You’re beautiful. Always” he whispered as he slowly sat up, supporting himself on his knees to give me room to turn over. I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my shoulders in and arching my back deliberately, accentuating the curve of my hips.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you naked beneath me… you’re even more” he said, making me blush and bury my face into the pillow. His hands took hold of the soft skin of my backside, giving it light taps and gentle squeezes as he leaned forward, trailing kisses down my spine, focusing on the dimples just above my hips.

After a few moments, I sensed him move away to grab a condom left ready on the nightstand. I raised my hips slightly, feeling exposed. When he returned to the bed, he didn’t take long to land a sharp smack on my right cheek, making me gasp and moan into the pillow, the sound fading into the rhythm of our heavy breaths.

He slid into me, gripping my hips tightly with urgent hands, which soon after struck my skin again, reddening it. He plunged his full length in and began to move at a steady pace. That position was one of his favorites: I could tell by the way he groaned, the way he caressed my back, the way his voice faltered with each thrust. I was starting to understand those parts of him too.

“God.. I- fuck..” he moaned roughly, driving into me with force, pressing his chest to my back, panting against my ear, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. One of his hands smacked me again before grabbing both cheeks, spreading them slightly, as if to remind me he was in control. The pleasure was overwhelming. My face was pressed into the softness of the pillow, one hand clutching the pillowcase, the other buried beneath it. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, layering more heat between our naked skin and the craving for a physical pleasure that somehow calmed the soul.

I tightened around him, moaning loudly as his fingers moved to my clit again, adding an electric edge to the sensation.

“Come for me, baby, come” he whispered through ragged breaths, keeping the same intense rhythm, his circles on my sensitive bud pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand found mine, intertwining our fingers, still gripping the pillowcase.

I felt my legs tense, breath caught in my throat, and the knot of orgasm unraveled, taking me over in seconds. I closed my eyes and let the wave crash over me, breathless, as Joost continued his movement until he followed, spilling into the condom, giving his last thrusts meaningless, still clutching my hand like it was the only anchor he had.

He covered me in kisses and caresses, the urgency of sex now wrapped in the softness of intimacy.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

That sentence echoed in my head for days. It was etched into my heart, engraved in my memory. He was taking me to one of his concerts because he had read between the lines of my words. He was taking me to his show, and all our friends would finally see the kind of bond that held us together.

We had done everything in secret without even meaning to. It wasn’t about hiding, we had just kept things private.

It wasn’t supposed to be more than sex.

Supposed to, because whether I liked it or not, I felt it that day.

Something romantic was growing. I was becoming more aware of the bond forming between us, strengthening with each passing day.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his smile. I felt it every time we were together, heard it in the whispered words, in the how are you? he’d send me throughout the day.

The fear was slowly slipping away. I was starting to let go, to trust him more and more.

-You’re moving forward. Letting yourself be led by the depth of the passion that binds you… isn’t that what love is?-

And finally, the day of the concert arrived. A day that was meant to be the most beautiful of all, the fullest, the most emotional. I would finally see him perform, I’d see him on stage, full of life. I would be there for him.

A day that was meant to mark the beginning of something deeper.

But happiness crumbled all at once. Reality hit me in the face, suddenly. My eyes saw what they shouldn’t have seen, not during that time, not on that day, not in that moment.

Not in those fragile, delicate moments.

It was the morning of that fateful day, a quiet and strangely peaceful Saturday.

There was something in the air, tranquility tainted by the joy of being part of such an important event for Joost. I had decided to go for a walk, planning to stop by the supermarket and grab something quick for lunch with him. After that, we’d leave together. We’d go together. I’d be with him all day.

But everything changed when I found myself walking down the aisles of that supermarket, torn between which instant ramen to get, trying to remember the favorite of the guy with whom I had, more than once, shared that simple meal.

I turned my head slightly.

Maybe it was an involuntary movement.

Maybe deep down I knew I was about to ruin that day for myself.

Or maybe it was just pure coincidence that led me to do it.

But I saw him.

I saw my ex-boyfriend standing right there, next to me, mirroring my action, holding two different packs of ramen. Probably to share with his new girlfriend.

My shoulders tensed, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip. I stood there, staring at his body, leaning casually on his right leg, his face caught in some sort of indecisive thought… And just his presence, so coincidental, so close, froze me.

My knees started to tremble. I could feel my heart pumping faster, sending blood coursing through my body. My mind was completely fogged.

I was so disappointed, so angry, and so sad that I got swept away by the confusion that took over my thoughts.

And it all got worse when our eyes met, when I saw the surprised look on his face. And then, that smile.

That damn smile I used to be so in love with, so lost in…

And for a moment, I was almost afraid of it.

“Hi, y/n.” Hearing his voice again didn’t do me any good, not at all. It caused a painful tightness in the middle of my chest.

My breath caught in my throat.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He stepped closer, and I forced a weak smile.

“Hi” I answered coldly, shifting my gaze back to the ramen that had now taken on the role of distraction puppets, something, anything to keep my mind off his presence.

-Is your heart beating fast for him too?-

“It’s been a while since we, uh… saw each other” he continued, his tone almost regretful, dripping with guilt. In three years, I had never heard him sound like that.

“Yeah” I replied, lifting my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how he was looking at me.

“I never really got the chance to apologize… for how I ended things.”

-Why was he telling me this? Why now?-

“It’s fine. I guess our paths were just meant to part” I replied simply, feeling the tension in my shoulders release just a little.

But… he had made the effort to say sorry.

Maybe…

“How are you? You look good.”

He slipped into my thoughts just like he used to. I smiled at that memory, nodded slightly, and let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“I’m good. And you?” It came out naturally, as if some part of me still wanted to know. And that scared me.

-You should hate him for how he treated you.-

We talked for maybe ten minutes. The most adrenaline-filled, fastest ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes that ruined my day, and the days that followed.

He said he’d like to see me again, to “talk things through, over a cup of tea.”

But would that really solve anything?

Was my racing heart just a reflex?

Or was I still caught up in him?

Did his presence matter as much as Joost’s?

-Did Joost matter as much as him?-

That question, that thought, those words, they haunted me the entire day. They made me distant, stuck in my head, detached from reality, drowning in guilt. Every time Joost reached for my hand, for my gaze, tried to read what was going on inside me. Every time he sought even the smallest touch, I felt myself sink deeper into the dark pit of guilt.

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk to me.

He wanted to ask what was wrong.

But he didn’t have the mental space for it, not on that day, not like that. His face showed worry, but I gave him no room to ask. If he had asked too much, my guilt would’ve broken me, I would’ve cried. And that would’ve made things worse.

That day was his.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything because of my mood.

I was finally backstage with all our friends, Joost’s team, and Joost himself, who was getting ready for the concert. I held a plastic cup with something alcoholic in it. The atmosphere was buzzing: nervous energy, joy, laughter, light teasing.

It would’ve been warm, welcoming… if I weren’t drowning in this internal mess. I lifted my gaze and looked at Joost from afar. He was laughing with a mutual friend, probably at some joke they’d shared. I heard his laughter from across the room and my expression softened.

A wave of pain hit my stomach, only slightly dulled by the sparkling liquid I swallowed.

-Why am I acting like this?-

My eyes dropped to the dark floor. My thoughts were clouded with images of both men.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about my ex, but how could I not?

“You sure you’re okay?” Joost’s voice startled me, a mix of concern and warmth. I met his gaze and smiled, but he didn’t smile back.

This time, he saw through me.

He knew I was lying.

“Yeah, hey, don’t worry about me.” I said, placing a hand on his arm, squeezing his shoulder, trying to stay close.

“I know something’s off. You’re not having fun? You don’t feel comfortable?” He asked again, clearly worried but I detected a flicker of irritation in his tone.

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that morning.

Not then.

That would’ve been cruel.

“Joost, really- don’t worry… I’m fine” I insisted, brushing my lips gently against his cheek and giving his shoulder another caress. He forced a smile. Pretended to believe me.

But the tension between us was unbearable.

When he came back to me after the concert, he was buzzing with energy, his white tank top soaked in sweat, face flushed, hair tousled. He couldn’t wait to hold me.

I saw it in his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him. Everyone congratulated him, but I stood aside… feeling like I didn’t belong in that explosive moment of joy.

And as he came toward me, all I could think was that I can’t handle this. His energy, his light, it’s too much for someone like me.

-I have to talk to my ex. I need to know what he wants to clarify.-

That thought, beating in my head since the morning, was shattered in one instant. Joost cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine.

Time froze.

I tasted his freshness, felt his heart beating against my lips, his breath caught in the branches of his lungs, his hands holding my face so close. I kissed him back. But the weight of the moment broke me.

Everyone had seen us. And instead of feeling enchanted… I felt horrified.

Terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes. I gripped his wrists and when I pulled away, I couldn’t even look at him.

It felt like I had betrayed him.

“Hey…” His soft, breathless voice wrapped around me like a thread. He gently moved, trying to lift my face toward his. The tears slipped down freely.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, overwhelmed by shame.

“Please, talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” His pleading made it painfully clear I was the problem. I was the one hurting this still-forming relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t even going to form at all.

I held back sobs, eyes shut tightly.

I felt so small in front of him.

“This morning, I saw him… and I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

I confessed. I didn’t even have the strength to look at him.

I had ruined everything.

Me and my insecurities had ruined it all.

And I didn’t want to ruin Joost.

That pure soul didn’t deserve it.

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totallynotslothhh · 24 days ago

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I’m writing the second part and I’m CRYING, I CAN’T WAIT TO POST IT!!!!! I think tonight or tomorrow, I still need to double-check everything properly BUT AAAAAWAAAAA! freaky and sweet

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost fanfic #yapp

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totallynotslothhh · 25 days ago

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I know that this kind of post doesn’t reflect the content I usually share on this profile, but I’ve been so deeply shocked by recent political events that I almost feel it’s my duty to say something, even if it means ‘staining’ (if I can call it that) the lightheartedness that usually defines my newly born webpage.

I live in Italy, and just for the record, the government is now led by a right-wing, far-right power that has repeatedly refused to declare itself anti-fascist. A reform of the security decree (DDL Sicurezza) was recently approved and is now set to be turned into law. This law entails a restriction of civil rights and democratic freedoms.

Now, beyond raising awareness among those around me and attending protests, I honestly don’t know what else I can do, given my current knowledge and education. Of course, the problem doesn’t exist only in Italy, this authoritarian drift is happening everywhere. Just look at Trump. Just look at the latest news.

So I say this to you: please, I beg you, as citizens, as human beings, don’t be fooled by those who promise you gold and then hand you shit; by those who, with a better command of language than yours, manage to screw you over. Always think of others. Remember that what we all have in common is that we are human.

No life is worth more than another. No one’s life should be lived better than someone else’s.

Indifference will be the downfall of humanity, of moral and social values, and I implore you: think with your own head. Develop critical thinking. Form an opinion about everything you see, even just online. Please, be human toward others and stay informed. Study, be curious, dive deeper into social issues, find people to engage in meaningful conversations with, fight for those who can’t speak up, fight for those who, unfortunately, don’t have the same opportunities you do, whatever those may be.

The world needs people with values, people with a conscience and empathy.

#politics #political #yapp

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totallynotslothhh · 26 days ago

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HOLD ME TIGHT

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,674

warning: smut, smoking, alcohol, oral!fem receiving, lil angst and fluff ig, fwb

description: The confusion in y/n’s mind intertwined with the sadness of seeing her long-time ex with another girl. Joost, a guy from the same group of her friends, suggests starting a particular relationship that will forever alter their friendship.

author’s note: I wrote this story while my favorite series was playing in the background, and I discovered a new way to focus. Incredible, but true. ANYWAY, sorry for the delay, but I’ve been busy all week and I wanted this first part to come out especially well to kick off the rest of the story. As always, let me know if you like the idea, if you’d like to read more. Personally, I really love this mix of tension and sweetness, and whatever other adjective you want to attach to it.

I’ll leave you to the read. See you soon.

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The cold air of the night breeze hit my bare skin so sweetly that I felt almost cradled by that freshness, which gradually made the fiery red color fade from my cheeks, a color that had framed my face for the past few hours. I had lost track of how many minutes had passed since I stepped out onto the little balcony of my friend’s house. She had organized a party and decided to invite me, or better yet, force me to come. Everyone had noticed my bad mood, which had now been lingering for five months.

The most frustrating, miserable, and exhausting five months of my entire life.

I sighed, closing my eyes and bringing the rim of a plastic cup filled with beer to my lips, lips once painted in a dark, now faded violet. The hours spent inside the house and the sticky, humid July air had ruined the makeup I’d done earlier that afternoon. I was sleepy, maybe even a little high; the alcohol coursing through my veins had relaxed every tense cell and was making me lose myself in a stream of thoughts that had no shape.

It was abstract, slow, and chaotic.

Thoughts tangled with the heaviness on my eyelids and on my heart.

They were just thoughts.

All kinds of thoughts, all trying to ignore the reality I was in.

Seeing my longtime ex with another girl had made me nauseous that morning, seeing the person I had spent more than three years with, after dumping me in the most pathetic way, through text messages, now, five months later, there he was with a new girl. It made me feel stupid. Twice as stupid. Because it wasn’t the first time he’d made me feel like this.

-Am I the only one who’s still hurting over him?-

-Should I just move on?-

-Is it me? Or is he the asshole?-

-Am I supposed to feel this way? Is it okay to feel this way?-

The cold, bitter beer slid down my throat, and with every sip, I felt closer to complete confusion. The questions that had been bouncing around in my head in the first weeks after the breakup were resurfacing, even stronger now. I thought I was moving on, detaching myself from him, finally feeling free.

And then the photo. That damn photo: of him with his new girlfriend asleep next to him. A new girl… with my ex. My heart dropped, my breath caught, and my eyes watered. The same heart that was now racing in my chest, the same breath that now reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, the same eyes now lost and staring blankly ahead.

The party hadn’t lifted my spirits, it had only drowned me deeper in my crashing waves of thought. Deeper in despair.

I was hunched over the railing, arms resting on it, hands holding the cup. I was probably radiating negativity and gloom from every pore. I hadn’t had a good evening, probably because of the dark cloud that hovered around me and the moody expression that had settled on my face without me realizing.

“Everything okay?” The deep voice behind me made me shiver for a moment. I knew who it was, even if it took me a second longer than usual to recognize him. Strangely, I managed to, and turned just enough to glance back at him, checking that he was, in fact, talking to me. Joost. I had met him a few years ago at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Since then, at nearly every event, gathering, or hangout, he was there. He was outgoing, kind, and I enjoyed being around him. It didn’t surprise me that he was worried about me, it surprised me that he noticed me alone on the balcony.

There were a lot of people, and yet he noticed me.

I straightened up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, giving a faint smile, feeling almost shy at his interest.

“Yeah, thanks” I don’t know why my voice came out so small, but it felt like he had barged into my mental spiral, abruptly stopping the flow. I felt exposed, just from his gaze alone. I would’ve felt that way even if it had been anyone else.

“Are you sure? I saw you from across the room earlier and got worried.” He stepped slightly closer, and I smiled again, my eyes turning into tired little crescents. I leaned my elbows on the railing again and took another sip of beer, catching Joost out of the corner of my eye as he leaned back against the railing, cigarette between his lips, lighting it up.

“Yes… I mean, the usual stuff.” I answered simply, resting my head on my hand and turning my gaze to the guy next to me. That night, strangely, he looked really attractive to me. Never before had he seemed this good-looking: tousled blonde hair, nose and cheeks slightly red, a white T-shirt under a short-sleeved, open black shirt, dark baggy jeans that fell below his knees. Maybe he always dressed like that, he had a unique way of expressing himself, even in his music.

But that night, I particularly appreciated it.

Not that I knew much about his music career, he’d played me something once during a night we ended up chatting and smoking on the rooftop of a mutual friend. I was mesmerized watching him: how he drew from the cigarette, how his blue eyes squinted with each puff, how he tilted his head back as he exhaled the smoke. His signature glasses, his neat mustache framing his lips, it all made me ask myself, in my altered state:

-Why is he here next to me?-

-Why is he interested in me now, of all times?-

“Hey, are you listening to me?” His voice cut into my mind suddenly, pulling me out of the trance I had slipped into while staring at him, almost in admiration. I shook my head slightly and let out a faint laugh, realizing how I must’ve looked to him: a girl completely lost in the fog of her own mind. A smile spread across his face, dimples deepening on his cheeks.

“Sorry, I was just- just thinking… What did you say?” I asked, tilting my head slightly, trying to focus on his words.

“I asked if you wanted a hit” he said, offering me the cigarette he held between his fingers. I stared at it for a moment before taking it, my lipstick leaving a faint mark on the filter, one he didn’t seem to mind, since he took it back and kept smoking like nothing had happened.

I finished the last sip of my beer, then mirrored his posture, gripping the railing with both hands.

There was a strangely pleasant silence.

A backdrop to our slow and likely fleeting conversation, yet it was enough to distract me from my relentless thoughts, flowing like a waterfall.

“I heard you broke up a few months ago” he said softly, almost as if he feared he was treading on a sensitive topic. Which… it was.

A very sensitive one.

“Yeah… it’s kind of a long story. I wouldn’t want to bore you” I said, eyes dropping to my shoes, which I had lined up together, while my free hand played with the hem of my shorts.

“I’ve got nothing else to do. I wouldn’t have come over if I didn’t care.” His warm voice, his comforting words, his presence beside me, all of it nudged me to open up.

I looked up again, my eyes falling on the old ashtray on a small table in front of me, filled with cigarette butts probably a week old.

“He dumped me, with a message.” I glanced at him. His eyes widened in surprise.

A confused frown crossed his face, then his gaze dropped to mine, maybe trying to read the dark circles under my eyes, my heavy eyelids. Maybe trying to understand if he heard me right.

I smiled a little, finding the whole thing oddly amusing. From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve all seemed strange.

But it was okay. Seeing his gaze fall on my curved lips was okay. It was exactly what I needed that night.

“No way, you’re joking” he said with a light laugh, matching mine. He probably thought I was kidding, that no guy who seemed that in love would break up with someone that way.

Yeah, I thought the same thing five months ago.

“If it weren’t true, I’d sleep more than four hours a night. He chose to be a jerk” I replied with a bitter half-joke, watching his expression soften more with every word I said. “Stuff like that happens, I mean, I try not to think about it too much… or at least I’m trying not to. It hurt, but life goes on… at least I think so.” I chuckled softly, placing my hands back on the railing and tilting my head toward the sky.

I felt Joost’s gaze, heavy on my lips, then on my whole face. I could’ve sworn the alcohol in my system was making me enjoy these little attentions far too much.

I didn’t really want to be alone.

I didn’t want to be left drowning in my own thoughts.

I needed someone to tell me everything was okay, even if everything felt wrong. And it was fine that it was Joost who was with me.

It was fine that it was Joost looking at me like that.

“I can’t believe he broke up with you over a message” he said, and I heard the sound of his hands sliding into his pockets after finishing his cigarette. He shook his head, shrugging slightly. My eyes stayed locked on him. It felt almost instinctive to bite my lower lip as I looked at him.

“I wouldn’t have treated you like that.” He met my gaze. There was a pause before he said those words, and they made me smile, an honest, amused smile, as if teasing him. I kept my eyes on his and raised my eyebrows in a playful challenge, noticing how he tilted his head slightly, mimicking my expression.

“What? You don’t believe me?” he said, squinting slightly, clearly waiting for a reaction. The air between us was growing electric, and my soft laugh only made it worse, or better. A shiver ran down my spine, and suddenly my thoughts drifted to what could happen if the tension between us grew even thicker. And the thought… oh, it was tempting.

“Should I believe you? You don’t even know me that well, what if you’d treat me worse?” I teased, shifting back to my original position: body leaning against the railing, but now my head fully turned toward him. He hadn’t moved, still holding that challenging stance, though now with his arms crossed across his chest.

“You don’t need to know everything about someone to treat them with dignity.” His voice had softened into something warm, even comforting, but his gaze and the cocky half-smile on his lips said something else entirely.

They spoke of desire. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

“But still… knowing someone matters. You don’t know what I like, what I can’t stand, what I do when I’m sad… you don’t know anything about me, and yet you say you’d treat me differently?” Our eye contact lingered while I crossed my legs and narrowed my eyes in response to his. I hadn’t flirted like this in nearly four years, and my heart started pounding, releasing a rush of adrenaline I hadn’t felt in forever.

-He’s already treating you differently-

“That’s another phase of getting to know someone, don’t you think? Maybe a deeper kind of knowing…” he said, and I saw his hand rise. I instinctively pulled back a bit, but then felt his fingertips brush against my cheek, gently tucking away a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of my face. He was caressing my cheek, and it stirred a hollow ache in my stomach that made me smile. He seemed to like that smile. His eyes lingered on me a few seconds too long.

“You’d need that to really know if you’d treat me better or worse” I murmured, pressing my cheek into his warm palm, his fingertip gently tracing along my cheekbone.

“Why are you fighting this so much? Can’t you just admit I’m better than him? Even just in this conversation?” he asked, and I suddenly felt completely vulnerable. I lowered my gaze, and he followed it right away, that same little smirk on his lips, his hand steady and gentle on my face.

-He was right. He probably was. Most likely.-

“Look at me, y/n” he murmured, letting his fingers slide to my jaw, lifting my chin ever so slightly to guide my gaze back to him.

-When did he get so confident? So bold?-

“You’re playing dirty…” I whispered, locking eyes with his again, my cheeks warming under the tension of the moment. I felt completely lost. He was talking too much and doing too little.

If we didn’t end up in bed that night, I was going to be seriously disappointed.

“You’re taking advantage of a girl who just got dumped… mhhh, not so much better, Mr. Klein” I whispered, my eyes dropping from his to his lips. He liked that. I could tell from the low chuckle and the way he sighed. He let go of my chin and slid his hand back into his pocket, licking his lips.

I could see his mind racing, lingering on thoughts for long, quiet seconds, which gave me the illusion I had the upper hand.

-Upper hand on what? On a conversation that’s leading us to fuck?-

The thought made me laugh, and I let the sound slip out, still watching him, waiting for a reply.

“Aren’t you the one keeping this going?” he said, mock confused, raising an eyebrow and making a dramatic little frown. I rolled my eyes and bit my lip to stifle another laugh.

“You started it” I shot back, sticking out my tongue at him and letting my giggle spill freely. I placed my hands behind my back almost childishly, noticing the way his eyes dropped to my body, lingering a second longer on the low neckline of my fitted short-sleeved top I’d chosen for the party.

Joost could look. I was fine with it. I wanted him to.

-How long has it been since someone looked at you like that?-

“Why don’t you shut up for a bit?” The words landed directly in my ears, and I didn’t get a chance to respond, because he leaned down and crashed his lips onto mine.

I gasped at the contact, instantly reaching up to cup his face, feeling his hands grab my hips, then slide briefly along the curve of my back. His lips were desperate against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth so quickly it made my whole body pulse with heat, lower. I hadn’t felt that in months.

I was getting wet so fast it was almost embarrassing.

-Would he have found that pathetic? No, he’s not the type-

His cheeks under my hands were just where they needed to be, and when his grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer to him, I let out a muffled moan into his mouth, answering every needy, filthy movement of his lips.

We were two people who couldn’t wait to discover each other under the sheets.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or that natural craving to connect with someone physically, or maybe it was Joost’s inner and outer beauty, maybe it was all of it combined that made me say yes to going to his place. He whispered the suggestion against my lips after that passionate, promising kiss.

And just fifteen minutes later, we were in Joost’s hallway. We barely made it inside before crashing into each other again. I felt his hands grab my face, his lips returning to mine, his breath rushed and full of lust. The taste of alcohol and cigarette was back in my mouth as I kissed him again. I pressed my hands to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt and tugging it off him, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought. Now my hands were on his bare arms.

He groaned into the kiss, slipping his hands under my bare legs. I wrapped myself around him, legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders, and we didn’t even pause the kiss: frenzied, wet, now layered with hunger.

We’d already spent what felt like hours kissing on that balcony, with the late-night chill cooling our flushed bodies.

But now, there was no more time to waste.

-Maybe I really could forget my ex.-

“I really want to see if I’m not better than him” I heard whispered in my ear, still clinging to him as he walked toward the bedroom. I was so dazed I didn’t even look around, I didn’t inspect even a single inch of the apartment he lived in; the feeling of his hands gripping my ass, his breath against my neck, the scent of his skin, and simply his presence made me weak.

I felt myself laid down onto the mattress, relaxed against the cool sheets of his bed, which felt like they had been arranged just for that moment. I sighed, biting my lower lip and fixing my gaze on Joost’s body as he undressed: he had taken off his shirt and was unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes locked on mine.

“So sure of yourself?” I murmured, spreading my legs and raising my knees, almost like an invitation for him to descend onto my still-clothed body. He left the belt undone, his jeans unzipped, but didn’t take them off, in fact, he left them on even as he began to take care of me.

His fingertips gripped the hem of my shirt, using his gaze to let me know I needed to lift up. After pulling it off, his lips went straight to my neck, and his hands worked on the button of my shorts. He didn’t even manage to take them off before sliding his hand inside and caressing my wetness, even through my panties.

I muttered a few disjointed words, sounding more like pleading than anything else, arched my back, and ran my hands into his blond hair. His lips traveled down to my chest, leaving kisses, gentle bites, and teasing licks on the bits of skin exposed by my still-on black bra, which I wouldn’t remove until the act itself. His body over mine, his fingers circling my throbbing clit, and his lips hungrily, relentlessly moving down my belly.

I felt like the center of attention.

I felt truly seen by someone in that moment.

His seductive eyes sought mine, filled with pleasure not yet released.

“Please…” I whispered breathlessly, tugging at his hair to tell him to move. The more I trembled, the more he moved his hand, eventually pushing my panties aside and sliding his middle finger into my wetness. The obscene sounds left my lips as if they’d always belonged there.

I shut my eyes, arching my back, one hand gripping the sheet below me, which grew messier with each of Joost’s movements.

“so needy…” he said, lips brushing against the goosebumped skin of my belly, his finger continuing inside me, pressing exactly where it made me melt. I lifted my hips to encourage him, groaning in frustration when he withdrew his finger, leaving me empty for a few seconds just to pull down both my shorts and panties.

I flushed, throwing my head back into the pillow as I felt his warm breath against my core. No further words were needed before I felt the tickle of his mustache on my mound, and his hot, wet tongue traced precise licks along my entrance. I barely held in a moan, both hands gripping his hair and pushing him against me. I felt him smile against my skin, only encouraging him further.

His lips latched onto my throbbing bud, sending shocks of pleasure through my entire body.

The electricity hit its peak when he suddenly inserted both his index and middle finger, adding a steady rhythm along with his frantic tongue on my clit.

I was going insane. That combination of movements, the obscene sounds from the clash of my fluids and his saliva, his occasional gaze, everything was perfect.

He kept licking, sucking, rubbing his lips against my entrance; sliding his fingers in and out, his fingertips working the same magic as before. I wrapped my legs around his head, gently pressing his cheeks against my hot thighs, making him groan, a sound that only added to the intensity rushing toward its peak with each minute.

His jaw was probably starting to ache, but I never once felt him pause, not unless it was to slightly shift his tongue’s rhythm. I was writhing beneath him, feeling the orgasm build closer. I gripped his hair, placed my feet on his back, thrusting my hips into his mouth and moaning loudly.

“Yes! Yes… please, Joost…” My pleas pushed him to continue, keeping that same pace until he felt my juices surge and my muscles tighten. I came quickly, moaning and tensing as he only stopped once I had completely ridden the orgasm. Panting, with a sheen of sweat on my body, I lifted my dazed eyes to look at him. He rose, equally breathless, his lips and chin glistening with my release.

“I need to fuck you.” he said, pulling himself up fully, his lips crashing onto mine in hungry kisses and bites, muffling our messy noises, which spoke only of desire.

After a few minutes, he managed to retrieve a condom from the top drawer of the nightstand. I didn’t give him time: while he was busy opening it, I had already dragged him back down beside me, lips plastered to his, leaving wet, desperate kisses from his lips to his neck to his arm, needy, tender kisses, full of unspoken words and overwhelming feelings.

“y/n, wait…” he chuckled, tossing the wrapper to the floor and sliding the condom on, as I kept nibbling gently on his shoulder, watching him crawl back over me with the same hunger as before.

“You really can’t wait five minutes? I just made you come” he said, smiling and glancing from my eyes to my lips, hands gripping the backs of my thighs.

“Aren’t you supposed to prove you’re better?” I teased, hands on his shoulders, laughing softly before moaning as I felt his length push inside me.

It was the most frantic, sweet, attentive fuck of my life.

His hips moved between deep, hard thrusts and slow, reassuring ones; words exchanged between carnal passion and ones that made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

A rollercoaster. That’s what it was.

His exhausted, sweaty body lay collapsed on mine, fists clenched beside my head, his face next to mine, his cock buried deep inside me. My legs were still wrapped around his waist, my nails now gently tracing his back after having scratched it with impulsive intensity at every deep thrust.

I kept my eyes closed, maybe afraid to open them and realize it had all been a dream.

-Maybe afraid to open them and realize I could live without my ex-

One of the most fulfilling sensations of my life. The two most intense orgasms I’d ever had.

They had erased every thought, every fear, every bad emotion. Feeling Joost’s body against mine, his heavy breath in my ear, made me feel alive again.

“You okay?” he whispered into the crook of my neck, leaving little kisses to check on me since I hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m good” I answered in a whisper, running my hands slowly through his hair as he pulled back slightly to catch his breath, his gaze roaming over my naked body. I let my hands fall to his chest, a small smile forming as I noticed the faint red marks I had left on his pale skin, dotted with occasional tattoos.

“You?” I asked in return, holding his gaze for a few seconds before unhooking my legs from his waist, letting him pull out.

Which he did, removed the condom and tossed it in the bin next to the bed.

“Never been better” he replied, lying down beside me and, with a natural gesture, pulled the sheet over both of us, assuming without asking that I’d be staying the night.

I accepted the silent decision and curled up on my stomach, closing my eyes and listening only to the slowing beat of my heart, still coming down from the high.

Joost’s naked warmth was the perfect lullaby, but I wasn’t sure I could treat it like it was just casual sex.

-I needed all of it. I needed that warmth-

I opened my eyes and found him already looking at me with those blue eyes that radiated so much certainty, it made me shy.

He noticed. He noticed my shyness, and it made him chuckle.

“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, hugging the soft pillow for a bit more confidence.

“Why?” his raspy voice perfectly framed the image of his tired but relaxed face. He placed a hand on my lower back, moving gently closer until he curled up beside me. I looked at him with those doe eyes I knew had a certain effect on him; he kept eye contact and nestled his head against my arm.

“You are laughing” I said again, sliding my arm around his shoulders, turning immediately toward him, embracing him. In turn, he ran a hand down my back and slowly closed his eyes, nuzzling against my chest, resting his head on my breast.

“Because you’re cute.” That sentence made me smile. I ran my hands through his hair and tangled my legs with his long ones.

“And that’s a good reason to laugh?” I asked, my face close to his as he lifted his head to look at me. A small hum came from his lips as he glanced over my tired face.

“We should do this more often… now that you don’t have a boyfriend…I mean, I just liked it. I like you” he said, stumbling a little but clearly trying to communicate his thoughts.

A thought that took root in my head.

A thought that left a hollow feeling in my stomach.

A thought that made my fingers tingle, which I kept busy stroking his soft hair I had been pulling just moments ago in ecstasy.

Pleasure, felt physically and emotionally.

Pleasure I’d gladly feel again.

Pleasure I hadn’t felt in a long time, wasted thinking about a guy who no longer wanted me the same way.

“Yeah…” I could only manage to respond with a breath, realizing I hadn’t even noticed I was holding it.

That night was just the first of many we’d spend tangled together, lost in each other’s warmth. Exhausted after sex, using it purely as an outlet. The following morning was just the first of many we’d spend drinking coffee together, watching each other, and truly discovering one another, piece by piece, we were building something not just physical, maybe something emotional.

Every glance, every word, every moment pulled me further from the image I had of my ex.

And I wondered: was I doing the right thing?

All this physicality with Joost, was it really what I needed? Was I just using him? Did the warmth that filled my heart every time he held and kissed me mean anything? Or was it just pure surface level emotion?

That thought haunted me. And while part of me was happy every time I was with him, another part wasn’t sure I understood the situation I was in anymore.

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