Some stuff about me:
100% Dutch!1!!11!1!!
18+
fan of Joost since november 2023:) known him since like 2017
One Direction/Harry Styles fan since june 2020
Star Stable player since 2017 (server misty mountain)
The legend of Zelda enjoyer
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
request: “Hey so I have an idea. Maybe Joost and singer!Reader?? I haven't really seen this since he was at Eurovision and I think it would be a great concept. Reader is an established artist and Joost wants to collab with her on a song. Naturally they have great chemistry and they catch feelings for each other.” // “I got an idea! I saw famous singer!reader but like the famous singer is from a punk/emo/goth band ?? Idk just a thought :0”.
tags: f! reader, famous-singer! reader, foreign/non-dutch! reader, she’s the frontman of a big famous goth band and he’s joost klein, strangers to lovers, technically porn that’s entirely plot, very much a cliché ‘love at first sight’ type thing because joostie is just so smitten with her immediately, lots of fluff, all dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.
warnings: smut, rpf.
word count: 7,160.
notes: thank you so so much to my BABE @starryeyedobsessions + @hardcore-junkie for this request — as a former lil baby-bat this was so so much fun to write, and it’s weirdly become very important to me. and then ofc a special shoutout to my darlings @killerlookz + @minuutvanverval + @blueessber for beta-reading; i love you all very muchly <33
enjoy! xx
you really were such a marvel, weren’t you? a force to truly be reckoned with.
as sweat had started to cling to his skin, turning the palms of his hands clammy, and as the ends of his hair stuck themselves to the nape of his neck, joost had found himself stuck. not even the end of the world could have moved him from his spot amongst the crowd. in a single breath, almost, you had him hooked, didn't you? obsessed with you.
though honestly, it shouldn't have taken them so long to realise. the clues had all been there, right underneath their noses – stuntje, bram, teun, lyon. how they’d each had to queue to get in and then pay in cash on the door, despite it only, at least seeming to be a regular, old run-of-the-mill bar on the city outskirts. how it was wall-to-wall heaving with people all clad in heavy, dark leather and silver chains, leaving them with hardly enough room to stand on their own.
but the countless shots of tequila from the last three bars had still coursed heavily through their veins, clouding their judgements and skewing their eyesights. none of them had taken any notice of all the posters stuck up around the room, but even if they had, they wouldn't have thought to google translate them. priority one had been figuring out who’s round it was then, and priority two was trying to spot a bottle of don julio behind the bar.
it took the sudden, deafening strum of an electric guitar to make them all jump enough to spill a few drops of their drinks. as lyon had glanced up from his phone, already in search of the next bar to crawl to, joost was turning on his heel to follow the sound across the room, around a corner, leaving the rest of them to all trail behind him. seeing the make-shift stage set up right against the far back wall; all the mic stands, guitar peddles, and miscellaneous cables that drowned it — the penny had finally dropped.
aimlessly, they had wandered into your show without even realising it. an exclusive, ‘one night only’ intimate show in one of the last few countries in europe that your band hadn’t played in yet. and bram had been the first one to say it – a little in awe but also ever so slightly, harmlessly mocking the situation, asking if they’d all somehow stumbled into a ‘my chemical romance concert circa 2006’. it was only because of that, that joost had taken another sip of his double-tequila, eager to settle the disappoint in his chest as he readied himself to leave after only the first song or two. the whole ‘goth’ thing wasn't exactly to everyone’s tastes; joost had already accepted that he was bound to be outnumbered in wanting to stay.
except then, you had sauntered on stage, hadn’t you? with your band-mates all following in tow. you, in all of your delicate, black lace; your sweet, saccharine smile, and a voice so heavenly that he could only stand there and watch you sing with parted lips, hypnotised. by the third song in he was already looking you up on every platform that he could think of. on instagram, some part of him stopped working properly when he’d seen that ‘follow back’ button staring right back at him.
it had flustered him terribly. had him clicking on it and following you back without any hesitation or regard of the potential ramifications. as stuntje had begun to tease, yelling something about ‘goth mommies’ right into his ear, he’d only shaken his head and tried to swat him away, unable to hide the soft rosiness of his cheeks.
so the end of your show had come as quite a relief, actually. it gave him the chance to eventually step outside for a moment, to shake all the sweat from his hair with the tips of his fingers and take a heavy, big deep breath in. as the others all lost themselves in the debate of ‘bar number five vs mcdonald’s’, joost was busy chain-smoking through his pack of cigarettes and trying to brainstorm different ways he could possibly collaborate with you somehow.
maybe he could teach you how to rap or something; maybe you could be the one to finally teach him how to sing.
because he just couldn’t get you out of his head. over the sound of a dozen other conversations all happening around him, he could still hear the sound of your voice in his ears, see the sight of you glowing on stage every time that he so much as blinked.
“oh shit, wait, isn’t that…?” he ignored the slight nudge to his ribs, his head still down, gaze still fixed on his shoes. “fuck, okay, she’s coming right for you, man. wake up.”
and you were, weren’t you? making a straight fucking beeline for him, with the brightest fucking grin tugging at your lips.
the dark blouse and long, awkward skirt that you’d been wearing on stage still cling to your skin, blowing in the wind that would have sent a chill straight down your spine if it wasn’t for the heavy coat that you now wear. your shoulders carry most of the weight of the denim that almost swallows you whole, threatening to fall down past your hands and hanging around your ankles. though somehow in spite of the weather, you still radiate warmth.
and it throws joost right off his axis. not at your lips or around your eyes, there’s not a single smudge of anything anywhere. there’s no pinkness to your face, or droplets of sweat settling along your hairline. it’s all too good to be true — you’re standing right in front of him now, close enough for him to see the faint smile lines that frame your mouth, and it’s just perfect.
“of all people i thought i’d see here, you really weren’t one of them.” he only manages a nervous, half-smile before you’re continuing with an inked hand splayed out across your heart. “i have to admit that it’s been a while, but i used to watch you on youtube all the time; do you still go by unicorn-joost?”
his friends all cough simultaneously, their shoulders jolting, each and every one of them failing at trying to hide their sudden cackles. they’re a little too amused by the simple, almost innocent translation of his old social media name, laughing in a way that has no malice behind it at all, but holds just enough of something that joost refuses to entertain it. he can tell that you’re trying — hear how there’s a rich softness to your accent that’s indicative of some place else. english isn’t your first language either; to join in would feel almost cruel to him.
he only smiles at you sweetly as he shakes his head, endeared by just how equally giddy you seem to be. “just joost now… i’ve grown up.”
and your voice wavers just enough for him to hear it when you finally return the favour and introduce yourself, speaking your name and giggling when he tries to repeat it back to you in your accent.
“did you enjoy the show, joost?”
you really don’t expect him to say ‘yes!’ as feverishly as he does.
maybe it’s not fair of you to judge him or any of his friends as so, but it feels too safe to have assumed that none of them were exactly your intended demographic. they stick out like sore thumbs amongst the rest of your fans; the only ones adorning any sort of colour in their outfits, one of which in a minecraft t-shirt, and a severe lack of any type of leather. you can see it on their faces, feel it in their body language, that they’re just not used to being around so many people that all look like you. it’s cute.
but it means that you’re left speechless when joost veers away from the script that you’d had ready in your head. you were prepared for a cordial ‘yeah, it wasn’t bad!’ and nothing more; something a little obvious in its lack of sincerity. you’re not quite sure what to do with it when he just starts rambling instead, apologising for not having heard of you before, but promising that it was one of the best performances that he’s yet to see. how his friends are all nodding behind him whilst he’s waving his hands around, taking drags of his cigarette in between breaths, calling you captivating and ‘unlike anything that he’s ever seen’.
a blush of your own starts to creep it’s way up the back of your neck as you finally find the right words to say, clutching onto your own hands just to stop them from shaking. “thank you, you don’t…you have no idea how much that means to me, wow.”
“how do you do that, by the way?” he waggles a finger in front of his eyes, head tilting to the side. “i wear the eyeliner for my own shows sometimes, but it never stays right.”
you try to answer without stumbling over any syllables, gazing into the blue of his eyes and already trying to picture how they’d look with a thick streak of black along their waterlines. but then you stop, flinching, taking a step or two closer to him at the sound of yelling from behind you. it’s only a group of guys taking turns downing their drinks and competing to see who can do it the fastest, but they’re loud enough for you to lose all train of thought.
it’s instinctive the way that joost then brings his arm up high around your shoulders, keeping his hand balled up into a loose fist as he guides you to stand even further into his side.
“yeah, i’m not a big fan of loud noises either.” he pauses only to curl his spine, bending down until he’s level with your ear. “do you want to move somewhere quieter? would that be better?”
when you nod, he readjusts, the warmth of his palm finding your lower back as he starts to lead the way.
at the very far end of the smoking area, hidden ever so slightly around another corner, is a picnic bench that you’re surprised to see no one else has found yet. it’s old wood is a little green, a little rotted, but it’s dry enough for you to sit down on without the damp soaking through your clothes. you’re lighting up a cigarette of your own as soon as you’re settled, cocking an eyebrow at the look on joost’s face as he sits down across from you.
“surprised that i smoke too?”
he grins at you again, shrugging. “with a voice like that, a little. you’re not so…’rahrahrah’ with it.”
immediately you choke on that first heavy inhale of smoke, your head hanging, coughing hard enough for your throat to burn as you laugh. it’s through watery eyes that you watch him start to crack too, giggling as he squints behind the thick, dark frames of his glasses. he’s only laughing because you are, and you’re only still laughing because he is.
“what was that?!”
“i was trying to do the smokers voice thing!”
“you sounded like that skeleton with the…the, fuck, i don’t know what the word for it is in english.”
except joost already knows exactly what you’re trying to say because then his eyes are lighting up, and he’s nodding at you again as he starts to act it out, almost, hitting an imaginary bin-lid with an invisible bat of some kind.
“ja ja ja ja, the one with the stick!”
“yes!”
a subtle aching starts to seep into your cheeks, pulling uncomfortably at your lips — it’s just becoming so easy with him, isn’t it? and it means that you don’t even think to check your phone that’s slowly buzzing itself to death inside your pocket. in no more than an hour somehow, joost already has you wrapped irrevocably around his finger, hanging off his every word.
your elbows resting on the table, hands cupped underneath and propping up your chin, but still clutching onto the cigarette that’s long since burnt itself out all the way down to the filter. you’re watching him throw his hands around again because he’s lost himself inside a story about one of his nephews dressing up as a skeleton for halloween one year. you’re smiling so much that it hurts.
it does nothing but feed right into his ego. it’s rare that he’s so extroverted with someone like this, someone like you, someone that could easily make his knees buckle with a single glance. he’s the type to quickly blush at mere eye-contact, unable to do much other than simply nod politely when spoken to. you’re bringing out something new in him, aren’t you? a confidence that he’s just not used to yet.
it means that neither of you realise it when the time starts to slip away right through your fingers. it’s just too hard of a thing to help — the way that the conversation flows from one topic to the next as though you’re more old friends catching up than anything else.
suddenly joost knows each of your bandmates by name, mannerism, and most embarrassing moment of the tour so far. you learn of his friends beyond their art and online personas, from each of the little vlogs and tiktoks that he has saved of them on his phone. you tell him a little too much about your new ‘resident evil’ obsession; he returns the favour by admitting his recent mexican wrestling one.
the only thing that you both dare to leave unsaid is any mention of your families. it’s only because you remember enough from watching him back on youtube that you know better than to ask; you’re not exactly in a rush to explain your own situation, either.
and it’s not until you’re half way through trying to list each of your favourite films without laughing, because somehow you have just a few too many in common with him to wrap your head around, that you’re interrupted. someone in a t-shirt bearing the bar’s logo stands beside you with an almost blank expression, speaking a language neither of you can understand. after a moment of awkward silence, she finally clears her throat and sighs, rolling her eyes slightly.
“we close in thirty minutes so we’re asking for last drinks. can i get you anything?”
joost answers hesitantly on your behalf, shaking his head ‘no’ with a hint of a smile on his face as he reassures whoever it is that you’ll be leaving in just a minute. when you don’t dispute it, disappointment starts to lower itself onto his chest, the weight of it crushing, but it’s subtle enough that it only brings a slight furrow to his eyebrows.
you just can’t believe what time it is.
for seemingly the first time all night, it occurs to you to finally dig your phone out of your coat pocket and dismiss the low battery warning. the time that you’re confronted with, ‘00:53am’ sends a small shock to your system, only because it means that you’ve been out here with him for almost three hours now. several texts from your bandmates clutter your lockscreen, and they all read relatively the same.
‘we got the hint ;) and went to go get food. we’ll probs be back at the hotel by the time ur done. plz be safe we have no room for a baby on the bus. see u tomo’
a slow heat rises to your cheeks, staining them a soft pink despite the cooler breeze that still whips around you every now and then. you don’t look up until joost starts to stand, a blush that matches your own creeping its way up the sides of his neck. and then you don’t stop to ask why he seems to be almost just as flustered as you know that you are, as you copy his movements, rising to your feet with a shy reluctance.
you’re still trying to grasp the certain implications of what your friends had said. it makes you a little dizzy actually, imagining it, and realising just how much you want it.
“my uh, my hotel’s not that far…would you want to come back with me?”
and the offer almost knocks joost right off his feet, doesn’t it? he finds himself needing to lean back against the bench just to try and stay upright.
the way that you’re smiling up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, tucking strands of fallen hair behind your ears and blushing more out of nervousness than anything else. it’s the first time that he’s truly seeing the effect that he has on you, and it’s killing him.
he nods softly, grinning without his teeth as he pulls the hood of his jacket up and over his head. “yeah! i’d really like that.”
he curves an arm around your shoulders again, and you assume that it’s only to keep you close whilst you make your way out, but once you’re out onto the street he doesn’t move, and neither do you. it’s like that, that you both walk the ten minutes back to your hotel, with you tucked gently into his side and listening quietly as he rambles about how beautiful this city is. you ask him about where else he’s been, on tour or otherwise, and he tells you sparing little to no detail.
but it’s really not too long before you start to lose track of it all, of the finer, almost intimate details of his stories, because it’s the mere sound of joost’s voice that you find yourself so stuck on. the sheer softness of it. how it’s so much deeper than you remember, with just enough gravel to it to make your head spin.
it feels a little…wrong, despite all things considered, but you just can’t help it. the old leather of your boots hit a puddle, you hear muffled live music spilling out from a lounge as you pass it by, but all you can focus on is the heat pooling beneath you. you think of his voice in your ear, deeper, breathier, groaning. you can’t appreciate where you are, all of the light, and art, and life that surrounds you, because you’re just too caught up in the thought of whatever this is leading to.
you don’t slip out from underneath his hold until you’re faced with the heavy glass doors of your hotel, and you can’t hide the way that your hands shake when you unlock them with your keycard. it’s dawning on you now that you haven’t exactly clarified what you’ve invited him back with you for, and you’re still waiting for him to ask. you want to hope that it’s obvious when you both step into the lift to head up to your floor, and you immediately take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.
but you just never really do this, do you? at least not very often. and joost, you know enough about him by now to gather that he’s something of a gentleman, maybe even a little unassuming. you can’t imagine him ever putting an expectation like that on you; if all you wanted was someone to talk to until you fell asleep, you’re almost certain that he really wouldn’t mind that.
it doesn’t phase you that neither of you have spoken in a while until you’re wandering down a corridor and he’s asking you which room is yours, and you realise that you’re just about to miss it.
you pull him to a sudden stop alongside you, the momentum of it swinging him around, and now you’re not quite sure what to say with him gazing down at you like this.
“you okay?”
“are we on the same page about this?”
you meet his eyes and see the ease in them; how his slight frown melts into something so much sweeter as he shrugs. “we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to; trust me, i’m on board no matter what.”
for just a moment you let the words sit, hanging in the air that thickens around you, before you nod, a faint smile tugging at your lips. and it says exactly what you need it to, because then joost is reaching forward to cradle your jaw; your blush deepens at the feeling of his thumbs smoothing along the skin of your cheeks.
“in my country, we would say ‘zo mooi’.” at the tilting of your head, he continues in something akin to a whisper, leaning into you a little closer. “so beautiful.”
you just about manage to breathe out his name in a sigh before he’s kissing you, clutching your face in the palms of his hands so delicately as your noses bump. the subtle taste of tobacco and sugary soda hit your tongue; the coarser hairs of his moustache tickle the very corners of your mouth. when you hook your fingers through the holes of his belt loops, pulling him flush against you, it’s only to anchor yourself down, really. suddenly your knees feel all funny.
and it’s absolutely ruining you, isn’t it? how perfect it all feels. how you just can’t seem to hold back the way that you whine into his mouth when he moves to step back, leaving you to wobble on uneven feet. not even a full second passes before you’re mourning the loss of him sucking on your bottom lip, but it’s enough to remind you of where you still are, standing on the wrong side of your hotel room’s door.
with your keycard still balanced between your fingers, you unlock it with a single beep.
“i’m…gonna go freshen up. wait up for me?”
he nods, leaning down to peck your lips again. “i’ll be here.”
the bathroom door clicks shut behind you, the sound of the shower turning on quickly following. now that he’s on his own for a minute, joost can’t contain his excitement anymore. he’s pumping his fist in the air, doing a little shuffle-dance, and taking fit-pics in the mirror before stopping to fix his hair.
it almost doesn’t feel real. he doesn’t do this. he can count on one hand the amount of one night stands he’s ever had — if that’s all that this is going to be in the end. something not too dissimilar to disappointment starts to settle beneath his skin as he slips off his jacket and shoes, and perches patiently on the edge of your bed. maybe he already likes you a little bit more than he probably should.
he sends another selfie to his groupchat; the friends of his that are still awake each reply with a combination of emojis that make his stomach twist as he laughs.
“hey…”
joost glances up at the soft sound of your voice, locking his phone and leaving it somewhere on the bedside table.
you’re standing at the foot of the bed dressed in nothing but a ‘sisters of mercy’ t-shirt that’s several sizes too big for you. the ends of your hair that poke out from the bun sitting on top of your head hang heavy with drops of water, your face fresh and bare of any makeup. it’s looking like this, so disarmed and almost shy, that he really starts to swoon for you, isn’t it?
a hot breath catches in his throat, his voice threatening to crack. “hi.”
you don’t think too much about it as you cross the room, only stopping once you’re in between his spread-apart legs, with your hands smoothing along the short stubble of his cheeks. you feel him melt into the touch, see how the sharp cerulean of his eyes sparkle in the warm lights around him. the subtle curve of his cupids bow, and the beauty mark that sits just above his chin. it’s only now that you’re noticing the ombré of his eyebrows, too.
“i think you’re beautiful, too.”
and then before he can blush, you’re kissing him again, and it’s his own hands finding the backs of your thighs and squeezing that keeps you steady this time. you also find yourself becoming pliable in his palms, because when he tugs you in closer, you move without any resistance. when he slips his tongue into your mouth and lets his grip wander up onto your hips, you let him, you encourage it.
in fact, you only stay like for another moment or two before you’re climbing onto his lap, aren’t you? knees falling either side of his own two hips, fingertips dropping from his face down to the hem of his t-shirt to pull on the dark cotton of it until he finally takes the hint, and throws it off and over his head.
he just can’t help but to giggle when you mutter out a string of what he can only guess are swear-words in your first language, your eyes carefully drifting along his pale, bare chest. “good things i hope?”
with your hands resting on his tummy, you nod with parted lips. “very good.”
he’s about to make a joke when you then start to shift, crawling back off him and onto the floor at his feet. you make a strong reach for his belt-buckle as you do so, fighting with the silver heart and feeling how his muscles jump underneath the touch. you only stop because suddenly his hand comes down to clutch yours, making you glance up with a pout.
“hey — only if you want to, okay? i don’t want you thinking that you have to; you don’t.” despite the way that his cock strains against his jeans at the mere thought, he really does mean it.
“no, i want to.” you gulp down the thick saliva that fills your mouth, eyes flickering between his face and his bulge. “please, but i can’t….get this fucking…”
it’s not mocking how joost laughs at you again, almost painfully endeared by just how desperate you are to get to him. a jagged crease cuts right through your eyebrows, a thicker pout pulling on your full, wet lips, and it’s all because you’re still struggling with his buckle, your patience starting to wear a little thin.
he doesn’t say anything as he takes over, lifting his hips up off the bed as he guides the cracked, black leather back through the old clasp. he just makes it look so easy, doesn’t he? because you blink and suddenly he’s holding it free in his hands, dropping the belt to the floor and letting his jeans sit loose around his thighs.
it gives you such a perfect view of him, of the boxers printed with his own name — how the cotton stretches around his erection, and he just can’t seem to stop twitching underneath your gaze. gently, you curl your fingers beneath the waistband and pull down, your mouth watering again as your hands start to shake. you’re not even sure what you were expecting, but he’s still somehow bigger.
“keep looking at me like that, and this might be over before we’ve even started.”
you only grin before you reach forward and hold him throbbing in your hands, hearing how he sucks in a sharp breath at the soft touch. you don’t grant him a moment to catch his breath either, before you’re licking a smooth stripe up from the base to the pink of his tip, swirling your tongue and sucking, watching how his pretty eyes screw shut.
and it’s all the encouragement you need to keep going, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the very back of your throat. you’re not even halfway.
“f-fuck, schatje.”
you’re not sure what it means, but you love the way that it falls from his lips.
joost digs his nails into the mattress behind him, needing to lean back and brace himself on his hands just to feel as though he’s still in control of himself. short, strangled huffs fly from his noise, his tummy all tense and cramping, as small beads of sweat start to gather along his hairline.
maybe there’s a joke to be made about a singer being so good with their mouth, but he doesn’t know, he can’t seem to think with your lips wrapped around him like this. maybe you’re too good at this, bobbing your head as you try to take as much of him as you possibly can, gagging, and using your hands to reach what you can’t fit.
he reaches forward to cup your face, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away some of the spit from your chin before carefully pulling your hair free from the bun that it’s in. he wouldn’t even know where to begin if you were to have asked him why, so he’s glad that you don’t. he just needs to hold you in any way that he can.
you feel him lace his fingers through your hair, scratching at your scalp and tugging on your roots every time that you try to push yourself a little further down onto him. it’s really not too hard to tell that he’s holding himself back every time that he does, because his hands are trembling, and as soon as he’s caught his breath, he’s smoothing the messed-up strands back down.
his head tips forward as his spine slowly curls in; he’s almost hugging your head to him as he whimpers out your name as though it’s some kind of prayer.
“fuck, wait wait wait, schat, wait.”
you let him go with a little ‘pop!’. there’s just a few too many tears welled up behind your waterlines to fully see the fucked-out look on his face, and your throat’s too spent to then speak without your voice cracking. “everything okay?”
joost can only laugh, can’t he? as he pulls you up into another kiss by the hold that he still has on your face. “yeah…i just…i was getting really close.” and then his hands move up to catch the last of the tears in your eyes. “are you?”
you merely shrug, trying to stifle a small cough. “my throat hurts a little.”
and it’s only because of that, that he finally pulls back, turning around and stretching to reach the bottle of water that he remembers seeing laying on a pillow behind him. it’s open but hardly touched, and something that he insists on holding for you as you take a few sips.
“better?” he doesn’t put it down until you nod, and then he’s taking your hands in his to help you stand. a small part of his heart starts to sink at the sight of the sore, red scuff marks on each of your knees. “swap with me, it’s your turn.”
you don’t hesitate.
as joost moves in turn with you, rising to his feet just to give you the room that you need to take his seat, you lay yourself down across the bed, propping yourself up and resting on your elbows. you watch him stumble trying to kick off his boxers and jeans before settling in between your legs, and you don’t mean to hold your breath for as long as you do when he gently pushes your t-shirt up. you hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear; there’s already a faint coating of your slick stuck to the very inside of your thighs.
it’s the accumulation of the effect that he’s had on you all night, and it renders him fucking speechless. because even as he’s taking you in his grasp and hooking each of your legs over his shoulders, he’s silent, simply staring, losing all of the colour in his eyes to just how wide his pupils dilate. as he flattens his tongue against you and licks a solid stripe up your centre, you hear him take a big deep breath in, taking in your scent.
“zo lekker…”
and you don’t get to ask him what it means before you’re suddenly squirming as he grins into you. his hands move to press down against your stomach when your hips buck up from off the bed, forcing you to still despite how he’s sucking on your clit as though it’s some sort of lifeline, and he’ll die if he doesn’t. between that and how he keeps pulling away every few minutes only to blow his cold breath along you, through your folds and laughing at how it makes you shiver, you really don’t stand a chance, do you?
fresh tears spring to your eyes again. with every sharp breath, your tummy caves in on itself a little more. you almost wish that he’d stop moaning at the sheer, sweet taste of you on his tongue, bumping his nose against you as he delves in a little deeper and laps you up, because it’s too much. every vibration sends another jolt up the length of your spine, and your thighs press together around his head.
“jesus….fuck, joost.” the words come out all strained and fragmented. you’re very quickly forgetting how to breathe.
“fuck, i like that.” he lifts his head up to wipe the wetness from his chin and see for himself the utter state that he’s gotten you in. how your chest is heaving, your face all wrinkly and screwed up with your cheeks just a tad tear-stained. “you should say my name again.”
you all but scream it when his lips wrap around your clit again and refuse to let go.
clammy hands knot themselves in his hair and pull, and unlike him, you wouldn’t have been able to hold yourself back even if you wanted to. every muscle that lies underneath your skin starts to lock up, cramping, almost turning to stone as you writhe against his mouth. his hands on you aren’t enough to keep you steady anymore; your back is arching up off the bed as he moves his grip down to hold your hips instead.
you try to push off the mattress — feet digging into the fabric. joost is relentless as he eats you alive, and it’s only by instinct that you’re trying to crawl away. there’s a feeling bubbling up that you just don’t know what to do with, one that’s making you clench around his tongue as you watch him through wet lashes, all starrey-eyed.
“j-joost, fuck, i don’t….i, i fucking, i can’t. oh my god.”
his hold you grows a little stiffer, and he yanks you back down onto his mouth when you manage to wiggle away just a bit.
“i got you, baby. it’s okay. gonna make you feel so good.”
“joost!”
its when he sucks on your clit again that you cum for the first time, isn’t it? something inside of you snaps, your whole body contorting as you shake, and it well and truly wrecks you beyond all recognition. because as joost sits back on his knees and you drip from his nose all the way down to his chest, you’re curling in on yourself as you struggle to gasp for air.
piece by piece it feels as though you’re dissolving right into the mattress beneath you, your eyelids heavy and starting to droop. it means that it hardly registers when joost crawls his way up to you and sits just beside your head, brushing the sweat-soaked strands of your hair away and out of your face.
“still with me, schatje?” his voice isn’t much higher than a whisper.
“mmhm.” you hum as you slowly roll over onto your back, gazing up at him half-lidded and leaning into the soft touch of his hand still stroking through your hair. “just a little…gone. that was…wow.”
if you could see the look in his eyes, you’d surely blush under the weight of it. “we don’t have to keep going. if you’re too tired, we can sleep. it’s okay.”
“no, no i’m fine i just…can i get some more water please?”
its only after helping you to sit up with him that he holds the bottle to your lips again, with a large, warm palm still cradling your face. and when a dribble of it starts to fall from your bottom lip, he wipes it away on the tip of his thumb, before taking a small gulp himself.
“then let’s go a little slower, ok? and to be honest, i really don’t think i’m gonna last that long, anyway.”
you simply nod, smiling at him just enough for it to reach your tired eyes. “yeah, that sounds nice. i don’t even…” and then you lay back down amongst the pillows, beckoning him over with just a small wave of your hand. “i don’t want anything crazy, i just…i want to feel you for a while.”
as soon as joost’s on you, your legs are wrapping around his waist and pulling him down, fingers stretching into the white-blond of his hair as you latch onto him by the nape of his neck. his inked arms are holding himself up by his hands pinned on either side of your head. they start to shake as soon as you start to grind against his cock, whining into his mouth. you can still taste yourself on his tongue — feel that he’s still twitching.
“you’re really gonna kill me, schat.”
joost shifts slightly; he reaches down and lines himself up, collapsing a little into the curve of your neck as he hisses. because you’re just so warm, aren’t you? and moulding to his shape with every inch that he eases in, fluttering around his length and squeezing.
it’s just that you can feel him everywhere. every time you think that he’s finally bottomed out, he keeps on pushing until he settles into a gentle rocking of his hips. beside you, his knuckles turn a faint shade of white, and you can hear the low baritone of his breathy little groans inside your ear. it doesn’t even compare to what you were imagining earlier.
the feeling of him on top of you, weighing you down as he pecks, kissing along the dip of your shoulder. the way that he’s being so ridiculously gentle as he fucks you exactly how you asked him to, his strokes slow yet still deep enough to leave you reeling. at first it has you gasping, mewling, as your nails carve neat lines down the pale skin of his back, but then your jaw goes all slack and you can only babble out soft prayers in your own language.
“how do you feel, baby? you feeling good?” he lifts his head to look at you, beaming at the teary, cock-drunk look in your eyes.
you really are just so pretty like this, aren’t you? hair sprawled out across the pillows, nose all scrunched, and your shirt bunched up around your midriff high enough to expose the bulging of your tummy with each one of his slow thrusts. maybe you weren’t just a marvel, maybe you’re actually a lot more than that to him now — maybe you’re greatest thing that he’s ever fucking seen.
“so, so good, joost….fuck.” the praise comes out as more of a cry than anything else, catching in your throat.
and it feels a little different than before when you feel that knot inside of you start to twist again. it’s tender, quieter, still enough to have you quivering beneath him because you’re still just so sensitive from the last one. goosebumps prick up along the skin of your arms as your sight turns a little blurry around the edges; the only thing strong enough to keep you anchored to the room is the hand on your hip, kneading the soft flesh.
he knows that you’re close, doesn’t he?
he knows that he is, too.
“think you can give me one more?”
you can’t even nod before it happens, stealing your voice, turning you limp as your eyes roll far back inside your head. it’s delirium. your whole body convulses for a moment; your nails dig crescent shapes into the muscle of his biceps as your ears ring too loud for you to really hear his own whimpering of your name.
he tips his head forward as he cums, resting his forehead against yours, taking in and memorising every soft little detail of your face. there’s a faint voice in the back of his head telling him that he might not ever see it again, at least not like this. it really scares him, doesn’t it?
and it’s only because he knows that he has to, that joost then finds the strength to pull out once you’ve had a minute or two to ground yourself. you both can’t help but hiss at the feeling of it, even such a brief touch now far too much for either of you to bear anymore.
you’re scooped up into his arms before he rolls, tugging you up to lay flat across his chest as he settles to rest on his back. with your cheek pressed firmly against him, you can hear his heartbeat, a little elevated but steady, threatening to lull you to sleep as his palms caress up and down your spine. it’s all too warm, too safe; you lose the fight of trying to keep your eyes open for another moment longer.
“you don’t have to stay, you know. it’s okay.”
the way that joost frowns at that is immediate, and he brings a hand up to gently tuck a few strands of fallen hair back behind your ear. “why wouldn’t i want to stay?”
you just shrug against him, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. “i don’t know, they normally don’t.”
he’s quick to rebuttal. “well what if i wanted to?”
and it's almost lazy how you then drag your head up to face him, resting your chin on his sternum. for as sweet as his smile is, you can see that it doesn’t really reach his eyes fully — there’s something a little sad in the way that he gazes at you, hugging you to him a little tighter as he does.
“even in all the mess?”
there’s a puddle of something, of one of you or maybe a mixture of the two seeping into the sheets beside him. you’re both still painfully sticky, still covered in a thick layer of sweat that the stuffy air around you is only exacerbating, and laying on top of the covers instead of underneath them.
the thought of his clean, untouched bed back at his own hotel doesn’t even cross his mind. only a quick, cold shower with you does, if either of you can even find the willpower for that.
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cw/byr!! rpf ; loss of virginity/first time ; soft!dom joost ; fem/afab reader ; fingering ; sweet talk ; unprotected sex ; can u tell i have a breeding kink ; i tried my best to deliver ! ; i kinda have no clue what im doing ; joost is a gentle giant (*/ω\*)
you were always nervous to fully go all the way.
everyone around you told you that it would just take the right time, the right person, the right moment.
but you hadn't seemed to find the right person, until you met Joost.
he was so kind towards you. never rushing things, always made sure you knew the adoration he had towards you, knowing that you wanted to wait, that you were scared. and he had no problem waiting for you.
the two of you had gotten physical in the past.
whether it was feeling each other up, having his fingers inside you while he held you, cooed you..
and that is just what the two of you were doing this evening.
he had two of his digits in your slick heat, gently and slowly pumping in and out of you. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you flush against him while he felt you shudder and moan.
"joost..?" you spoke in an almost hushed tone, your weak hands having a vice grip on the shirt he was wearing. you so badly wanted him to take it off.
"mm.. ja, liefde?" he replied in the same tone, his lips just barely grazing the side of your face, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.
"what is it, honey?" he pulled back, gradually putting the movements of his fingers to a halt, letting you stabilize, letting you speak, yet still keeping his hand inside.
"i.. i think i'm ready to.. y'know.." you purred, shyly, unable to look him in the eye, which brought a breathy chuckle out of him before his free hand found the side of your neck, tracing his thumb along the skin there.
"hmm.. ja?" his voice gentle, almost shy. "are you sure?" along with his careful, deliberate caress. his hands felt so right on your body, like they were crafted just to explore you.
"mhmmm.." purposefully dragging the word, in an attempt to tease him. from that glint in his eyes you had no doubt that it worked, but his touch told you otherwise. he smiled down at you. god, that pretty smile..
he leaned close. closer to you, so badly wanting to feel the warmth radiating off your trembling body. "kan ik doorgaan, liefde?"
once you gave him a nod, he did just that, carefully yet precisely moving his fingers in and out of you once more. he knew just what to do with them, just how to draw moans out of you.
he leaned in, slowly and teasingly pressing his lips to the skin of your neck while he worked you open, prepping and stretching your tight cunt for his cock while peppering soft kisses on your sensitive skin, which you could already see was straining in his boxers, making them a little tight.
he kissed you down, each kiss more meaningful than the last, pressing warm, gentle little pecks on your collarbone. your head tipped back, letting your lips part with shaky whimpers.
"mm.. je klinkt prachtig, doll.." he mumbled against your skin, which lead to your hand finding the back of his head, tenderly running your trembling fingers through his hair.
he grew needy. moving his fingers with a bit more urgency than before. like he couldn't wait, but knew he had to. he was holding himself back, he didn't want to break you.
your hips almost rose up from the bed, having an instant reaction to his touch, making sure to show him just how good he makes you feel. the back of your free arm covering the upper part of your face, almost as if hiding from him. he had noticed, and he couldn't hold back the smile he formed against your skin.
"fuck, je bent zo strak," his tone was strained, hungry. "you sure you can take me?" dragging his tongue down your chest, giving your tits some attention, finally.
you sighed, almost clenching your hand with the pleasure as more whimpers ripped right out of your throat. "yesss.. please, josie.."
he suckled on your tit, scissoring his fingers inside you, causing your eyes to roll back as your lashes fluttered, eyebrows threading together as you grabbed a weak fistful of his soft platinum locks.
he hummed, contently, sending vibrations throughout your body before he pulled back in the slightest. you whined from the lack of contact, and before you knew it, his fingers were suddenly out of you.
you shuddered. removing your arm from your face to properly look ar him. before you were able to whine, complain, beg, anything to get him to continue, his voice almost tore through the short silence that followed.
"keep your ass on the bed, lieverd," his tone was firm, yet collected. you let go of his hair, giving him his space to pull back. he smirked down at you, those pretty blues of his locking with yours.
you propped yourself up on your elbows before you weakly sat up, your hands fidgeting with the zipper of his jeans. he chuckled. "what are you doing, liefje?"
you unzipped his pants, greedily lowering them along with his boxers. and he let you. watching while you were letting his erection spring free from the fabric, and he couldn't help but moan shakily with the contact of the cold air.
his member was twitching. almost leaking with precum, about as impatient as the rest of him. and the sight was definitely one to behold.
"i need you inside me, joost.. i can't wait anymore.." his body had an almost primal reaction to your words, wrapping his hands around your waist to ground you with careful dominance.
"breathe," he stated, simply. and you listened, slow and careful breaths coming from you as you tried your best to relax your body, spreading your legs while your thighs already shook.
his hands soothed you, running up and down your body to try and get you to feel even more comfortable. your breathing was in sync, listening as he let out a content hum.
"my god.. look at you," he whispered. "so beautiful.. je naakt zien is zo'n zegen, angel.." his eyes locking with yours, using one of his hands to slowly, slowly wrap around his cock now.
he leaned in, wearingly lining up the head of his member with your leaky entrance. he could already feel the tightness and it made him shudder.
his upper body leaned closer, offering you to wrap your hands around his shoulders if you needed to.
"relax your body," he whispered. "last chance to back out, schoonheid. tell me to stop and i will." carefully running the head of his member up and down your sensitive folds, allowing his precum to mix with the wetness gushing right out of you.
you exhaled, slowly, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling at the just barely covered skin there, picking at the fabric of the white wifebeater he was wearing.
"put it in.." you murmured. he let out a shaky sigh with that but gave you a quick nod, letting you fully exhale before carefully inching his member into you.
your moans collided. he couldn't believe just how tight you felt around his cock, how your body welcomed him in. he leaned down, pressing more kisses to your neck.
you on the other hand, could already feel yourself becoming a wreck. you had whined with the initial stretch. growing to slowly adore the feeling of his member inside you, being met with gentle, careful, and deliberate movements.
he stilled himself inside you. not even halfway in and he already felt big. too big. his teeth grazed the skin of your neck, threatening to bite, not doing so just yet.
his hands felt at your skin. looking just where to squeeze, grope, feel, caress. but he didn't wanna push it too far.
instead letting you catch your breath, relax into the sensation.
"you feel so good inside, mijn engel.." he murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes, his gaze longing, meaningful.
you looked right back at him, your eyebrows furrowing and body shuddering before your head leaned back with soft moans, hands slipping beneath his shirt.
"y-you feel so good.. joost.."
his hips moved with intent, you could tell how badly he ached to feel you, yet how careful he wants to be, having you for the first time ever.
you dug your nails into the exposed flesh, watching as his eyelids fluttered with the impact, licking his lips before his hands moved to explore your flesh once more.
his palms were met with your tits, and so he touched them, touched you just right, being careful, like he was handling glass. didn't want to hurt you, just wanted you to cum, to feel good, to be happy. to get you everything you wanted.
"does that feel good, liefde..?" his normally confident voice now had a shaky undertone to it, which made your body have a natural reaction, tightening around him. a breathless groan escaping his lips with that.
"faster.." you whispered under your breath, his hands cupping your tits as he kept his eyes on yours. well, at least he tried, with how frequently they kept rolling back and fluttering.
he didn't question you, didn't question your needs, what your body wanted. and so he obeyed, only slightly picking up the pace, his gaze falling to watch the way his cock disappeared in and out of your cunt with such eagerness.
"kijk naar jou, baby.." he drawled, his voice heavy yet content "taking my dick so well.. making me so proud," he praised, hands hesitantly letting go of your tits before one made way down to your swollen, needy clit.
"aah..! joost..!" you couldn't help but cry out. the feeling of being stuffed full of cock while having your swollen little bundle of nerves toyed with, it was almost too good.
"does it feel good?" he cooed, his voice laced with adoration, admiration. he couldn't love the sight before him more than he did right now.
seeing you like this, at your most vulnerable. your body trembling, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths while he steadily pumped his cock in and out of you, circling your clit with two of his digits, he loved everything about it.
"yes..! s-so fucking good, joost..!" you whimpered, needily, fist balling at the fabric of his tanktop, trying to find some friction as the world around you kept growing more fuzzy and shaky.
he readjusted himself, and his hand, fixing the angle of his hips to be able to reach even deeper into you, bringing a sharp cry out of your throat with your head thrown back, the head of his cock consistently kissing your g-spot.
you could only whine shakily and let him do as he pleased, let him mumble sweet nothings, gentle affirmations while his thumb circled your clit.
the feeling was pure ecstasy. you could let him have you for hours and you wouldn't get bored.
he panted, breathlessly, his body having just as much of an impact as yours did, his finger moving with more expertise, more urgency.
your cunt gushed hotness, clenching and tightening around him even further, you loved the sounds it brought out of him whenever you did so.
he almost whimpered, thats at least what it sounded like leaving his lips. "gonna cum.." he purred. you had never heard his voice be so weak, so desperate, so pretty.
you nodded, letting a shaky string of moans leave your lips as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the circling of his thumb not faltering as you shook beneath him. "g-gonna cum too..! mmnh.. fuck.."
your voice was almost as strained as his own. aching, begging for release as your eyes locked intently yet again.
"waar wil he dat ik cum, baby..?" he purred, teasingly, like the answer wasn't obvious enough.
in response, you wrapped your trembling, beyond weak legs around his hips, almost grounding him into you, bringing a shaky gasp out of him.
he didn't need you to say it, the look in your eyes as you practically dicklocked him into you was more than enough of what he needed to hear.
he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours with an almost desperate hunger. you moaned into the kiss as he weakly kept grinding and rolling his hips into your, still sloppily pumping his dick in and out of your leaking cunt.
you could only shudder as your tongue moved with his own, the both of you breathing heavily and shaky, making a mess all over one another without a care in the world as you reached ecstasy.
your nails dug deep into his back. scratching all the way down while your orgasm washed all over you. you had to pull back, had to moan all of the honesty out while he kept his eyes on you, still within kiss reach while cooing you, gently.
"yeah, there you go.. good girl," he purred, yet again, his voice like silk. "cum for me, angel.."
it didn't take long for him to cum, too. his hips pumping weakly and shakily as his breathing hitched, kissing you yet again. he moaned into your mouth, your free hand finding the back of his head as he did so.
he bred you full, keeping his cock buried inches inside you while your shaky legs were still locking him inside. but it's not like he'd pull out if you weren't, anyway.
while you two caught your breath, he held you close, pulling you flush against him and weakly peppering your neck with soft kisses. you chuckled, your fingers now running through his hair.
"mm.. did i do good, schatje..?" the way he mewled for your approval, still in between soft pecks on the sweaty skin of your neck.
it had been a very long evening for the both of you.
the entire night, you and Joost, your boyfriend, have been outside. you are making the most of your time, he's going on tour soon! you need to have him while you've got the time.
but there was a catch.
it was always fun to be playful. be a tease, fuck with him throughout the entire night, see how much his impatience builds up, how it runs thin.
it starts small.
hand on his thigh. tracing little shapes while you're sat next to one another.
bending over, showing off your just barely covered ass and thighs, wearing those tiny skirts he liked.
brushing your hand against his while you smoke.
always a deep inhale, a short scoff, a chuckle.
with how well you knew him, you figured could just read just every thought in his head.
you only thought so.
but there you were. it was 3:15 at night, and you were right there, on your knees before him, jaw locked, throat full of his cock.
using you as his personal toy, while lighting yet another cigarette.
he takes a deep drag, using his free hand to guide your back and forth, by your hair, having you just where he wanted you.
a shaky, leaking, drooling mess. tears clumped together from how long your throat has been abused for, dribble and cum dripping down your chin, all the way to your tits.
"Kijk naar jezelf," he spat under his breath, exhaling the smoke, slowly. using the fistful he had of your hair to his advantage to pull you back, allowing you to catch your breath.
"a mess." he added, all you could do was cough, look up at him with a blurry vision, furrowed eyebrows, tears staining your cheeks.
before you were able to respond you're forced back onto his cock. you could feel him twitch as your throat tightened, drawing a low groan out of him.
he ashes his cigarette as his grip on your hair tightens further, causing a sharp sting in your scalp, one you'll remember after.
another low moan, pumping you back and forth onto his cock, his eyelids fluttering shut before gathering a short breath.
"this is all you're good for, ja?" he asked, in a mocking tone.
all you could do was hum in agreement, pathetically, whining around his cock while making lewd gagging noises, your lips meeting the base of his manhood yet again.
"to have your face fucked by me."
before the words registered, he leaned down, spitting on your face. your eyelids squeezed shut once it landed on your cheek, which only worsened the aching sensation between your thighs.
"fucking hoer," he added, swiftly pulling your throat off his cock yet again. your knees were already bruising, cunt pulsing,heart beating through your chest. pupils blown out.
you needed it so bad it hurt.
his cock was before you, twitching, red at the head, dripping with your slobber and his pre-cum, not having came down your throat just yet.
you didn't deserve it.
but you could tell he ached for it. but he knew, he knew that seeing him cum would set you off, he knew how you enjoyed hearing him moan, how you loved watching his eyes roll back while he cums down your throat, in your cunt.
and he didn't wanna give you that just yet.
he needed to torture you, ruin you, break you even further.
he let you catch your breath for just a moment. his eyes on yours, staring deeply before taking a final, long drag from his cigarette.
he ashed it one final time before his lips parted, his voice coming in a gravelly tone, laced deeply with desire and intent. "look at me," he demanded. and you did just that, to the best of your ability.
"laat me je nek zien, bitch," he emphasized that final word, making sure you knew your place. before fully registering the words, you complied, leaning your head back.
he possessively tugged on your hair, pulling it back further, drawing a whine from you, followed up by a mocking chuckle, your eyes squeezing shut once more.
he leaned closer, putting out the cigarette right on the tender flesh of your neck. you couldn't help but cry out at the sensation, hearing yet another cruel scoff fly past his lips.
"aww, hurts, schatje?" he mewled in a faux sympathetic tone. though your eyes were closed, you could hear the smile in his voice.
you loved every last bit of it.
the cruelty.
the pain.
the love.
depravity.
you nodded, your eyes fluttering open ever so gently to finally, finally look at your man.
if only he knew how good he looked.
dark, beyond wide pupils, a sharp gaze with hunger written all over it.
his hair a mess, beading with sweat at the ends, few strands stuck onto his neck, right over his lola bunny tattoo.
smeared eye makeup which truly made what was left of his iris pop.
his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. you could tell the loss of impact, of your throat, was bothering him.
he gave you a soft smile.
pretty full lips curving at the sight of you on your knees.
you knew he hadn't gotten his fill of you just yet, but he was definitely getting there.
"Jij hoort bij mij," he added, the faintest hint of adoration in his voice. which made it all worth it.
"on your knees." another tug on your hair.
a beat.
two beats.
"for me." he finished his sentence. but you were so captivated, so entranced by the sight before you, you hadn't even noticed how you just let the words hang in the air, to no response.
but he did.
a harsh strike, right across your face, drawing another whine from you as the sensation on your skin already began to sting, big hand taking a firm grip of your chin.
"ja?" Joost emphasized, his voice a low purr, his tone firmer than before.
he didn't want you to forget you were his.
he held your chin just right, just enough to show you that your place is right there, on your knees, before him.
making sure you kept your eyes on him.
"ja, sir..." your voice was raw, breaking with just two words, from how your throat has been used like a cocksleeve for the last hour or so.
yet another chuckle, he loved the state of you. didn't feel bad for neglecting your cunt, enjoying watching how badly it leaked through your panties, just for him.
"Je bent een filthy puinhoop," he gravely said, slight amusement in his tone. "like a dog."
i promise ill get into the requests i've gotten, this particular scenario has just been sitting in the back of my mind for a bit!
joost has been on tour for a couple of weeks.
with coachella and all of his sold out shows, you couldn't be any more proud of him, of how successful he is, only getting bigger.
with that, you missed him. everything about him.
his absence was very much felt.
no hands randomly wrapping around your waist from behind, no hand holding your throat, no fingers in your mouth except for your own.
you had touched yourself to the thought of him, of course. sent him videos and images of it, too. always a teasing reply back, telling you how much he misses you, thinks about you, is dying to finally have you. but never actual time to send one back, or to even hear his voice.
this night was different.
it was pretty late, about 2 in the morning. you were trying to sleep, the lack of his strong arms around you made it difficult every night.
just when you felt yourself drift off to sleep, your phone rang, causing to you let out a short groan before grabbing your phone from your dresser.
it was joost.
you picked up, hearing slightly labored breathing over the phone before he spoke.
"hey, liefde," his voice sounded a little restless, needy. drunk, too. "did i wake you?"
hearing his voice made you smile lazily.
"no," you almost croaked, clearing your throat now, hearing him chuckle over the phone. "was just going to bed.. how are you?"
it took him a minute to respond.
"i'm okay," he replied, followed up by a gulp. though he confirmed he's alright, his voice told you a different story. "tour's been crazy." a pause, a shaky breath. "ik mis je, doll."
a concern crept to your mind. "i miss you, josie. are you sure you're okay?"
a moan. "ja, sure.. blijf gewoon praten... alsjeblieft.."
oh.
that in itself brought a blush to your cheeks. your thighs carefully shuffled together as you heard his breathing pick up, the way he bit back his moans, almost like he was being weary of being heard.
"so you're--" "i miss your pussy, lieverd," he interrupted, his voice strained, aching. "ik mis.. de manier waarop je je voelde.." stuttering now. gosh..
it didn't take a while for you to feel a warm sensation in your abdomen, feeling as you grew slicker with each soft moan of his.
"i miss you, joost.." you purred, your hand making way between your thighs, slipping past your shorts to give your needy cunt some attention.
you rubbed your clit with ease, letting out your own string of soft whines, letting him listen, letting him hear as you touched yourself for him.
"you touching yourself..?" he murmured, letting out a deep groan. "yes.. my fingers feel so good.." impatiently picking up your pace, your legs spreading as your cunt gushed with more hotness.
"not as good as mine.. ja..?" he teased with a breathy chuckle. still had the nerve to tease, even when he was a breathless, shaky mess for your entertainment.
"'course not.. they're not as big as yours.." he moaned with your words. you wondered how close he was, if he had called you because he needed to hear you in order to cum.
"i'd fuck you so good if i were there.." he sounded so beautiful, each word in that sultry tone sounding like a promise. "ik zou je gaten zo goed gebruiken.. i know you would love it, too.. zou je niet?"
"yes.." you whined in response. hearing a cocky hum escape his lips with that, aware of the effect he had on you, even while he wasn't there. "how are you touching yourself, schoonheid..?"
oh, god.
"just rubbing.. my clit.. why..?" you could hear his breathing growing less erratic, now steady, yet still slightly shaky. "wil dat je jezelf vingert, doll. can you do that for me?" he was guiding you now. suits him.
you did just that, obeying him with no question, slipping a finger past your leaking hole, letting out a small cry as you carefully began pumping it in and out of you.
"mmh.. good girl. how's that?" he cooed. his tone authoritative, couldn't believe that he was a whining mess just a few moments ago. you couldn't bring yourself to respond, but your moans spoke for themselves.
"niet genoeg, isn't it, hoer?" you couldn't help but enjoy hearing that name fly past his lips with such ease, like nothing. calling you a whore like it was your name.
your eyelids fluttered, and you struggled to catch your breath. just one finger had this bit of an impact on your body, how touch deprived you've been.
he moaned when he heard you. he couldn't hold back his honesty, that he needed you, too. just as bad.
"yeah.. louder.." he murmured. "louder, baby, louder voor mij.." his tone was almost encouraging, you could hear he was starving.
"add another finger, doll," he was still stroking himself, deliberately. his member throbbing in his hand as he ached to cum, ached for release. but he couldn't. not now, not yet. he wanted to cum with you.
"be a good girl for josie, bunny." almost dripping condensation as he talked you through it, listening as you fell apart and loving every second.
how could you not be eager, desperate, pathetic for him when he used his voice like a weapon? if he asked you'd drop to your knees right now.
you added another shaky finger, taking just a bit to adjust to the stretch, the same way you would with joost's fingers. so big, thick, marked with ink forever, always looked so nice covered in your slick or exploring your body..
"joost.. i need you, joost.." you couldn't stop moaning his name. it was always so nice to say, to whine, to mewl, to beg. "how bad do you need me?"
"bad.. really fucking bad.. aah..!" it had been so long since you came to him talking you through it.
feeling that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen, clenching around your own fingers as you heard him chuckle, cursing under his breath while he picked up his pace.
"you gonna cum, baby..?" his tone was shaky yet again, unable to contain his excitement to finally cum with you once more. "mhmm.. wish you were here.. s-so i could cum on your cock.. fuck..!"
"Ik zou je zo goed fokken, you filthy whore," he almost uttered. "ik wed dat je strakke kut druipt right now, isn't it?" you picked up your pace and so did he.
you gradually reached ecstasy. whimpering his name, cried out for him, whined breathlessly for your pretty boy. letting the cries just spill from your lips for his ears only.
he loved the show, couldn't ever get enough of you. addicted to wearing you out completely. he would do it for hours if he could.
with that, his head leaned back, chest rising and falling with deep breaths while his cock twitched one final time, letting his load spill all over his tummy, making way to his chest. it's been a while for him, too.
you both were so far, yet so connected. laying together in bliss while on two separate points in the world.
"i came so good.." you shuddered, carefully slipping your fingers out of your leaking cunt.
"ja.. me too.." he panted with a short laugh, his voice still sounded so good. all breathy and weak.. god.
"love you.." you mumbled. "ik hou ook van je, sweetness.." you could hear the same urgency in his voice, the one you'd hear every night while you were beneath him.
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