Joost Klein x Reader | 99 Luftballons
- Reads 24,816
- Votes 478
- Parts 24
Ongoing8h 40m
Last published Sat, Jan 4, 2025
This is the long story of how you met a Dutch stranger one night in Malmo. Joost Klein, apparently, and the two of you get to know each other, and slowly fall in love. [it's a slowburn!] it's off to a bit of a slow start but once you get to amsterdam it runs along
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#47
joostklein
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𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞 • Joost Klein
"𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗝𝘂𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲." he said softly, almost a whisper. He ran his thumb along my bottom lip, moving his hand to my chin, tilting my head up so I would be in his gaze. His hand softly ran down my chin, landing on my neck. He smirked slightly. "𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝘀𝗲." he muttered. My breaths became deeper and more fast-paced. "𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁?" I whispered, studying the way he stared at my neck. My neck tickled as he stroked it with his thumb. "𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁." ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── #𝟭 𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝘄𝗲'𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗿, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁! - 𝗱𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘆 #1 𝘪𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘵 #1 𝘪𝘯 𝘌𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢 #1 𝘪𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘯 #1 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 #1 𝘪𝘯 𝘕𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴Complete
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Langour (noun) weakness or weariness of body or mind// #1 in joostklein 16.06.2024 #1 in thenetherlands 21.06.2024 #1 in eurovision 23.06.2024 #1 in music 26.07.2024 --- Note that everything in this story is fictional. Any event that is similar to actual happenings has been fictionalised for the plot. Do not take anything from this story as real or as real representations of actual people. A light-hearted modern story that I'm not used to writing, but will try for the Joost Klein discourse. I've never been to The Netherlands, so I apologise for inaccuracies. But what a guy, right? Enjoy!Complete
They're still in love. But it's not the kind that saves you anymore. Kyle and JJ are still together-at least on paper. The world sees the perfect duo: Eurovision legends, hearts intertwined through stages and songs. But behind the lights, in the quiet spaces between rehearsals and routines, something is slowly slipping through the cracks. They don't fight. They don't break. They drift. There are no big betrayals, just small silences that grow heavier by the day. Eyes that no longer meet like they used to. Words swallowed. Emotions deferred. And yet, the love is still there-tired, bruised, but present. How do you hold on when the fall is quiet? How do you stay when staying hurts just a little more each day? A slow burn exploration of emotional distance, unspoken pain, and the kind of love that lingers even when it starts to fade. -Sequel to this wasted love.
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