Hi, my name is Kylie, and I'm a Welsh-New Zealander living in Wales. This is a place for me to post my art amongst other things. I promise I don't bite! :D
I think some of you guys forget that Bucky Barnes is a traumatized war vet, he is NOT going to be choking you with his metal arm in some of yall headcanons….
a/n: This is for 80 followers!!! Thank you all so so much, I love you all, I love getting comments and questions and all the brilliant kindness you all have shown me in the short time since I joined!
Also, this is a early 2000s AU, not that i lived through that in any meaningful way besides being a dumb child but i have such an affinity for it i had to. internet cafe is soooo 2004-2007 to me.
i think about vampire!joost so much i mind need to make my own headcanons posts because its like bad bad, im obsessed.
You stare at the dingy storefront building, trying to decide if you want to go in or not. It looked…scuzzy. A big sign hangs on the front, kind of flapping in the wind, that reads "YES WE ARE OPEN", a neon sign blinks "OPEN", on the glass door vinyl letters read "Internet Cafe 24/7".
It's two pm on a Monday, so you're not exactly shocked they're open. There's a couple of patrons at the desks, you slink past them as you enter. A stern looking man sits at the desk, he has an eye patch, and a pin on his suit jacket says 'manager'. You're as thrilled as he is to be here, which is to say not very. But your friend wanted to check her email and she had met a guy that recommended this place, so you rent two computers and wait for her. She had gotten sidetracked talking to another girl on the street.
But the next time you come back, two days later just after one in the morning you are a little surprised to see it is in fact still open. You couldn't sleep, and figure it's probably the most pleasant place to spend the night. There's a different employee behind the desk now, of course. He's wearing headphones and an unfriendly scowl on his face, and you want to talk to him less than the manager.
You sigh and steel yourself, approaching the desk. He looks up before you have a chance to say anything, there's a cigarette hanging from his lips despite the No Smoking sign on the wall behind him.
"Ja?" He says simply, blowing the smoke away from you, pushing his headphones to rest around his neck.
"Uh, hi. Can I get two hours on a computer?" You give a small smile.
He blinks at you, his lashes darkened by mascara fluttering. You realize how cute he is when he looks up at you like that, the black eyeshadow around his eyes, they're blue, like ice blue, lighter around the pupil slightly. You're so focused, so entranced by his eyes that you almost don't hear what he's saying. "Why?"
"Huh? Why?" You ask, trying to process the question. You know what he's asking, the manager guy asked the same question the other day.
"Ja. What do you want to use the computer for?" He ashes the cigarette and takes another drag.
"Um. Internet. I'm just here to check my email and like- MySpace." You fumble to get the money from your bag.
"Sending email is extra." He says simply. He doesn't wear a pin like his manager does. You wonder if it would just say 'Internet Cafe Employee' if he did.
"I know. I was here the other day." You sigh, handing over the banknotes.
"It's dumb, huh?" The Employee messes with the little cash register machine on the desk.
"Yeah. A little." You chuckle, watching him put the cash away and gather up your change and a little receipt. He takes a moment to scribble on the receipt before handing it over.
"You're at fourteen." He points out into the rows of computers. You glance at the receipt quickly and see he wrote the number there too and pocket it.
"Thanks, dude." You say, smiling.
He smiles back, it's small, courteous, but it's cute. He's cute.
You find your way to the computer, and are secretly glad the employee didn't sit you next to any of the few patrons here. It's a little close to the desk, actually. But maybe it's just because you're a foreigner and he doesn't trust you, you do feel his eyes on you. Though, everytime you glance over he isn't looking, so you tell yourself you're imagining it.
You're there for about an hour before someone has a problem that the employee has to address. He walks past you to get there, you glance up after getting a chill, goosebumps on your arms, to see him walking down the aisle away from you. You go back to what you were doing, commenting on someone's MySpace blog, but when the employee goes back to his desk, the computer you're at shuts off. "No, wait..What the-" You splutter, watching the screen kind of blink before going black.
You’re scared to touch it. What if the guy thinks you did this! You were just on MySpace, you didn't download any viruses or anything. You stare at the monitor hoping it will come back but it doesn't and you have to stand and drag your feet over the front desk.
The employee is focused on the monitor on his desk, he's typing something, but quickly glances up when you approach. "Uh, hi. Sorry, um- My computer just shut down and like-- I didn't do anything." You gesture behind your back, giving the employee an anxious smile. God, you don't have the money to pay for the computer if you killed it somehow.
He sighs a little. "Ja, ja. Give me a second. You can go sit back down." He waves you off, going back to typing.
You're hesitant to go back, but you do, sitting back down on the plastic chair feeling like that might break under your weight too. It'd be just your luck. "I dunno what happened," You sigh when the employee appears next to you. You didn't even hear him, you don't know how, with those huge boots he's wearing. "I was just on MySpace and then it like flashed or blinked and pbbt- dead. I didn't wanna do anything 'cause-Like, you're the professional."
He listens to you ramble, a smile on his face. You're surprised by how genuinely kind he looks in the moment, not frustrated by your silly incompetence like you expected. "I'm not a professional, but I'll give it a look. Let me in." He plops down in the chair at the terminal next to you, and both chairs squeak obnoxiously as you scoot to make way for him. You would have let him sit where you are but, he insisted.
His knee brushes yours as he leans in to poke at the tower, pressing the power button. Once the machine starts humming he leans back and both of you watch the monitor. He shifts a little in his chair to slip a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his front pocket and lights one as he waits, setting the pack on the desk. You find yourself watching him take a drag from it, exhaling the smoke, but quickly look back to the monitor when his eyes flick to you. You see the smug grin spread across his face in the dark reflection but it's quickly replaced by the boot screen.
The logo for the operating system appearing on a deep blue background, 'unityOS' in white with stars around the word, a little loading bar underneath. It's a good few seconds before the log-in screen comes up, a little jingle playing in the transition and the employee sits up and reaches over to enter the admin password. The desktop has the same OS logo in the corner, you've never heard of it before.
"There. It's fine," He sits back, and smiles at you, pleased with himself. His canine teeth are a little longer, sharper than most people's. But, well, everyone's different. "These things are old, they tend to just crash sometimes."
"Thanks. Sorry for wasting your time, I just didn't want to fuck it up." You sigh a little, feeling embarrassed now. You could have just turned it on yourself. Stupid shit, you mentally berate yourself. Both of you flinch back at the same time, though you don't notice the employee's pouting expression. You're too focused on the sudden pain in your brain.
"That's what I'm here for. I'm happy to help." He assures, still smiling. You nod and hold a hand to your forehead, a dull throbbing there. Probably a headache from being up late and staring at the screen.
"Sure," You kinda just mumble, watching him stand and stretch. His shirt rides up and you get a glimpse of his belly before you quickly look away. "Uh-..I think I got it from here. Thanks, um- Again, yeah."
You hear him chuckle softly above, and you don't look away from the monitor, trying to remember what you're doing. He scrambled your thoughts. He's pretty, too pretty. "Of course. Don't be afraid to ask if you need anything else." He says, putting the chair he used away and left for the front desk.
You log back into MySpace, and go back to what you were doing before the computer crashed. You finally leave the comment on that blogpost, though you can't remember exactly what you wanted to say. You spend the rest of the time making idle chatter with a friend in America who is awake. Though you kind of can't stop thinking about the employee. You had seen his stomach, you were too embarrassed to look too long, but you looked. You keep replaying the moment, him stretching, the skin pale but covered with a layer of hair.
You leave fifteen minutes before your time's up, and feel eyes on your back as you gather your stuff and go. But you don't look back, digging in your bag for the directions back to the hotel you had printed out last time you were there. During the walk back you stick your hand in your pocket and rediscover the receipt, pulling it out to look at it while you wait at an intersection. You realize there, already halfway to the hotel that the employee didn't just write the terminal number on the receipt but his number too. And his name, Joost. You feel foolish for not having looked at it before, but you feel satisfied knowing his name now.
You're out in five minutes by the time you get back to the hotel. You don't dream the rest of the night, which your friend is disappointed to learn the next morning, and she spends brunch telling you all about her dream. You talk about how you went back to the Internet Cafe, but don't tell her about the employee, Joost. You still have the receipt with his phone number on it, but you're too nervous to call. You know your friend would insist you call if you told her, she'd insist you let her listen.
Later that night, your friend tries to get you to go clubbing. You refuse, say you don't feel up to it, say you think you're just going to stay in. It's not totally a lie, you really don't feel up to it, but just because you want to go back to that dumb Internet Cafe again. You don't need to, you could just go out with your friend and forget all about it. You can't, for some reason, you can't just forget the building and guy who works there. Joost.
You fumble in your pocket for the receipt as you walk to the Internet Cafe. He's just cute and kind of interesting that's all. Your friend wouldn't blame you for wanting to talk to a cute guy, you're sure of it. You rub the slip of paper between your fingers, just something to ground you. You pull open the front door and step into the storefront, immediately surrounded by the cool air inside. There's a few people, two of the same people from the night before.
The same employee sits at the desk, you're grateful for that. You'd probably turn right around and leave if Joost wasn't there. He looks up as you approach, smiling already. Like he knew you were there before he looked. He pushes his headphones off his ears, you see this time they’re plugged into a PSP. He puts that down and focuses his attention on you. It’s dizzying almost, his eyes on you like that. They’re so…Almost piercing, so blue, his pupils little pinpricks as he looks you over.
"Didn't expect to see you back so soon." He says, and you look away. You're embarrassed for coming back at all, for not even calling him, for not turning around when you noticed his number. It doesn't help that he was looking into your eyes as he spoke, the eye contact making you squirm a little, discomfort gnawing at you for a moment too long.
You play with the little laminated placard displaying the different services offered. "Um, yeah. Sorry, for- Not calling you, or whatever. I only saw that after I got back to my hotel room." You fib slightly, so you don't feel as embarrassed.
You hear a soft huff of laughter come from him. "It's okay. I thought I creeped you out."
"Oh, no. You're like really cool, actually.." You trail off a little, losing what you were going to say when the bell on the door rings.
"So, how long?" You look back up at the question and find him looking at you head tilted slightly.
"Two hours, I guess is fine. No email, nothing, just using the Internet. Myspace." You fish out the money from your pocket and hand it over.
He scribbles on the receipt, holding it out after completing the transaction. "You're at fourteen." He says, pointing at the computer again.
"Thanks, Joost." You smile as you go to take your seat at number 14 again.
You don't pay attention to the person who came in behind you, logging into Myspace and quickly getting caught up in everything. A few minutes of trying not to eavesdrop but hearing the patron complain about the computers here, you start digging through your bag for your iPod and headphones.
One of your fingers catches something in there and you pull your hand out with a sharp gasp at the sudden pain. You don't even know how a thumb tack got in there but when you reach back in with your other hand, you find that's indeed what hurt you when you fish it out. You wait quietly, patiently, until the other person has given up and left the Internet cafe before you go back to Joost.
"You're bleeding!" Is the first thing he says when you step up. You're caught a little off guard by how quick he noticed but brush it off.
"Yeah, there was a thumb tack in my bag. I dunno where it came from but whatever, uh- Do you guys have like a first aid kit, I just need a little Band-Aid." You mumble, kind of cradling your finger, it doesn't hurt but you don't want to drip blood on the counter.
"Ja- Yes, we do. In the back. I can help, let me help." He stands and steps out from the desk and points at the beaded doorway, pushing open the yellow door and ushering you in.
"Wait, are you the only employee?" You ask, glancing back briefly before the door shuts.
"They won't do anything. Don't worry." He says, turning on the lights. You could have sworn his eyes glinted red in the dark, but there is a little security camera in the corner of the ceiling. You just saw that, you tell yourself that's all it was. The little red light of the camera.
It's a small employee break room with a fridge, microwave, even a coffee machine. It makes you wonder why coffee isn't served in the actual Internet Cafe, the one you've been to before was an actual cafe. "Here, sit." He gently directs you to sit at the small square table.
"Thanks, y'know for doing this." You mutter awkwardly, watching him. He opens a couple of the cupboards, looking for the first aid kit. He's not listening, you hear him mumbling to himself as he looks, 'ik denk..ik denk..'. You feel silly for caring so much about this guy who's basically a stranger, why are you so interested? Why are you even here? You could have just waited for the little poke to stop bleeding and go back to Myspace. You couldn't help yourself.
He sets the first aid kit on the table when he retreives it, and starts going through it before stopping to feel at his pockets. You almost start laughing when you see what he pulls out, a pair of thin rectangular glasses. "You wear reading glasses? How old are you?" You ask, unable to keep the laughter from your voice.
"How old do you think I am?" He asks smoothly, looking close at something he pulled out before opening it. He's careful to grab your hand, holding your finger as he wipes it clean with a little alcohol wipe.
"Uh. I dunno. Twenty five, maybe?" His fingers are cold, you can't really feel the rest of his hand due to the fingerless gloves he's wearing, but his fingers are cold. Maybe he should wear full gloves, you think, if he has poor circulation. But you're not about to lecture a stranger.
"Close. Twenty seven." Joost smiles at you, not quite a toothy grin but you see his sharp teeth. He's pretty, his smile is cute, you can't help but smile back. He finds the antibiotic and smears a little on the small wound.
"You look good. I mean. Y'know. For your age." You stumble over your words, quickly looking away from him. Those eyes.
"Ja? You think so," He smooths a small bandage around your finger. It's intimate. All of this is intimate. It should feel weirder than it does. "Do you think I'm pretty?"
Your brain short circuits a little. Like that computer did yesterday. It's almost like he read your thoughts, though you know better. Telepathy, or whatever, mind reading, isn't real. "Uh- We should be getting back. You should be at work." You chuckle a little, an almost anxious sound.
He sighs and nods. Standing up straight and shutting the first aid kit, gathering the bandage wrappers and tosses it in the trash can. "You're right. Though, you should know..There's hardly any customers at night. We're okay." His voice is low as he walks you to the door back to the Internet Cafe, turning the light off as you go.
"Thanks, again. And sorry, for interrupting your work." You say as if he hadn't been playing on a PSP this whole time. He sits back at the desk, folding his glasses and tosses them onto the desk.
The phone on the desk starts ringing. He says, "Fuck- I'll give you an extra fifteen minutes free. If you want." before picking up and taking the call.
You kind of mumble a yeah, maybe and go back to number 14. You frown at the thumb tack still there on the desk and glance around to see if you can spot a trashcan where you can get rid of it, but almost make eye contact with a guy who is upset his computer shut off. So you quickly put your head down and finally pull out your headphones so you don't have to listen to…Well, everything.
Time passes much faster when you tune out everything around you. You don't realize how long you've been there until Joost is right next to you, smiling as he taps your shoulder a little. "Time's up, unless you wanna pay for more."
"No, no. I should be going, I guess." You shake your head, closing the Internet browser, and starting to put your iPod away.
"Are you going to come back tomorrow?" He asks, watching you pull your bag over one shoulder.
"Maybe. I dunno. why?" You ask, looking up at him, drawn into those ice blue eyes. God, he's almost too much.
"Oh. 'Cause, I have tomorrow off. So." It's like he knows. How does he know the only reason you didn't turn around was because he was here.
"So, I don't have any reason to come back, then." You go ahead and just say it. You watch his eyes shift, the way he looks you up and down again. Really properly taking you in.
"Ja? Just here for me, are you?" He steps a little closer, and you half wonder if his boots are like, platforms or something because he seems so big.
"Yeah, basically." You huff out a little laugh, you're awkward, looking him in the eyes makes you feel funny.
"Do you want to come over to my place tomorrow?" Joost gives a sweet smile and tilts his head slightly as he asks. And…You just can't say no.
"Okay, sure." You nod a little, impossibly endeared by him. There's a funny feeling in you, you chalk it up to a beautiful boy looking at you, inviting you over to his place.
"Cool. Come here, I'll give you the address." He beckons you to follow him to the reception desk, and you do. He sits back down and rips a card off the Rolodex to write down his address. You peer over the desk and watch.
And you notice a small container of thumb tacks by the keyboard. The same kind that was in your bag and hurt you. But before you can think to say anything he's handing over the little card. "I'm up and awake by midnight."
"Really? Real night owl, aren't you?" You slip the card into your pocket, knowing if you put it in your bag your friend would find it.
"Something like that.." He smiles and you feel dizzy. Your head's fuzzy and you don't know when it started. You're tired, you haven't been sleeping good.
"Okay. I'll see you then." You nod a little, and smile back. Stepping into the night seems to clear your head, it's a cool night and it makes you feel much better to be in it.
You look at the little card Joost gave you, just to make sure it's real. It's hard to believe, you don't know what you did to deserve it. A cute guy's number and his address.. You wonder if you really should go, a stranger's place in the middle of the night. But he seemed so nice and genuine. You don't entertain any of the thoughts that come after 'whats the worst that could happen'.
Your friend isn't back when you get to the hotel, which you're glad for. You fall asleep almost immediately. When you wake up later, much later into the next day, your friend still is gone but she texted you about going back with a guy. You find a place for food and fall asleep in the hotel room again. Your friend comes back and wakes you up shortly after. She talks about the guy she met, and you keep thinking about the guy you met.
She talks about going out again, and is so dissapointed when you say you don't want to go out again. You can't tell her why, she'd freak out. Meeting a guy is one thing, she'd be thrilled if it was just that. But you know she wouldn't let you go to a strange guy's place at midnight. You tell her maybe you'll go to the Internet Cafe, and it's not a lie, you need to print directions to Joost's place. She's displeased with that answer, but you know the truth would make her a nervous wreck.
You're not a nervous wreck per se, but you are nervous. It was weird going back to the Internet Cafe and talking to a different employee, a man with dark curls, tattoos on his face and a nose piercing. He was really nice. You hang out in the Internet Cafe until midnight rolls around and then you start the walk, following the directions you printed out.
Your hands shake a little as you walk, as you go to the apartment building, ride the elevator up to the third floor. You worry that this was a bad idea, worry that you should have never agreed to go to the Internet Cafe in the first place. Until you knock twice on the door and wait for a few moments and Joost opens the door. The apartment is dark inside, and he blinks and squints at the bright light in the hallway.
"Hallo. Wasn't sure if you'd come or not." He chuckles as he steps back and lets you in.
“I wasn’t sure either.” You admit with a nervous laugh, blinking trying to adjust to the dark. Letting him take your bag and hang it on a coat hook.
“Well, I’m glad you did." He smiles and starts leading you deeper into the apartment.
"Wait up, please. Ow, fuck." You stumble into the corner of a side table.
"Here, take my hand," He says, reaching out to you, and you do so. Holding his hand, he's cold, noticeably cold. Like your hands get in the winter, but it's summer, and the apartment isn't cold. Maybe just his room is. "Do you want anything to drink? Wine? Beer?" He offers, nodding to the little kitchen space.
"Uh, I dunno. Are you going to?" You ask, leaning on one of the counters, watching as he opens the fridge, making a small bit of light in the dark room. You finally get a decent look at his outfit, a long sleeved polo shirt and a pair of jeans. It's simple but incredibly attractive.
"No, but you can. Don't worry." He assures, and you do feel calm with his words.
"I don't think so. I'll just have like- I dunno, a soda or something, I'm fine," He hums a little but passes you a cherry cola, and takes your hand again, leading you to his bedroom. "So, what did you wanna do?"
The room is decently sized actually, lit dimly with a candle lamp on his dresser, a small TV also on the dresser, displays the DVD menu for a movie you don't know. On the wall, above the bed shoved in a corner is a Nosferatu poster. A cluttered computer desk in the corner, he takes a moment to close everything and power it off. "Uh, I was thinking we could just watch some movies. My roommates are sleeping so we have to be quiet." He sits in the chair by the desk.
You set your still unopened soda on his night stand. "Okay. What kind of movies do you like? Horror, I assume? You like vampires?" You nod to the Nosferatu poster, sitting on the edge of the bed..
"I like them, yeah. A lot. They're really cool, don't you think?" He props an elbow on the arm of the chair, and leans his chin in his hand, watching you, waiting for your answer.
"I mean, yeah. I like Dracula, the original one." You finally open the soda, holding it just so you have something to do with your hands.
"I have that one, you want to watch it?" He offers, sitting up straight. His eyes are bright, the candle and the red walls give them that red shine again. You glance to the small TV and try not to think about it.
"On that? Sure, why not?" You chuckle, even the TV in your hotel room was bigger than his. But you think, he probably can't afford a big, new expensive TV working at the Internet Cafe.
Joost stands and comes over to the bed, feeling around under it and pulls out a big disc binder, swapping the disc in the TV with Dracula. He sits on the inside of the bed, letting you take the outside so you don't feel trapped. You don't, anyways. It's comfortable, sitting with him and talking over the classic film. Neither of you feel the need to pay attention. It's not long, the movie's hardly past the halfway point when his hand comes to rest on your thigh. A silent gesture, though it's obvious what it is.
You knew it when you agreed to come over, you knew more likely than not that he would want to hook up. And, well, you're here aren't you? You're in the stranger's apartment, in his bed, letting him talk to you and touch you. Your friend would be shocked if she knew what you were up to, she was the one who regularly had flings, you rarely if ever did. It wasn't often you found people you were actually interested in. And you certainly didn't go back to their place so quick, you're not a prude but you didn't do this often.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks quietly, his voice light and gentle, his hand moving up to brush your shoulder, creeping toward your neck.
"Okay." You answer with a nod and don't have to wait until he's pressing his lips to yours, and, they're cold. There's a fan rotating in the room, but you can't even feel it where you sit on the bed, and he's still cold. The kiss is fine, but Joost is pushy, his teeth brush your lips almost like he's trying to nip you. He shifts on the bed, hands on you, on your belt loops, tugging.
Quickly he gets you on top of him, hands roaming your body as you make out. He's so much, almost overwhelming, you've never been kissed like this before. With a raw sort of hunger, so needy. It's dizzying almost.
"Ow! Fuck." You gasp suddenly, pulling away, hand instinctively going to the wound. The small cut on your lips.
"I'm sorry.." He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck.
"It's fine. It was a mistake, my lips are dry anyway." You answer, kind of caught off guard by his reaction. By the snuffling you can hear at your neck. Just smelling your perfume, surely.
Joost doesn't say anything before his lips are back on yours, tongue licking at the little split, moaning into your mouth as he licks up the blood. There's not a lot, it's such a small wound.
"I need…I need to," Joost sighs, finally pulling away, almost panting. "I need to taste you, please."
"Okay." You're breathless from the kissing, your mind's fuzzy too, you can't think of a better way to respond.
"You're sure? You want this too? Will you let me bite you?" He asks, looking in your eyes, and you can really see it, the red glint. It's a little scary, the look in his eyes, dark. The very nature of the question.
"Okay. Yes, you can bite me." You nod a little, you trust him, somehow you do. You’re scared, but you trust him. Joost is.. otherworldly, his eyes, ice blue yet so dark, hungry as he looks at you. Those soft hands, cool on your skin as he touches your neck, gently tilting your head. He’s something else entirely, and it’s not hard to deduce what.
He breathes against your skin, tongue flat against you as he sniffs, finding the best spot, you think. Like some predatory animal. “It won’t hurt,” Joost murmurs just loud enough for you to hear. “Promise it wont hurt, just a little poke.”
And it doesn’t hurt. Not how you expected, it’s like getting that big needle popped in you at the doctor, just another blood draw. It runs down your neck, you can feel it, you feel his tongue too, smearing sloppy over the wound. He laps at the blood that runs out, moaning against your skin. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you. You shouldn't feel this way over being bitten but you're hot all over all of a sudden. Maybe it's like, an aphrodesiac or something, or you're just way more perverted than you ever knew.
“Thank you, thank you..Needed this…” Joost’s hands feel you up, slip under your shirt, and you can feel the warmth in his palms as he drinks from you, your blood warming his body.
He groans, rocking his hips up into you as he drinks, sucking at the wound, mustache tickling slightly too. You can feel him as he grinds upward, his cock hardening in his pants. It’s thrilling, you can’t help but marvel at how turned on he is by feeding. The way he moans against you, panting, breath hot on your neck. He comes back up to kiss your lips, smearing your mouth with your own blood, getting it in your mouth, the thick taste of it.
“Can I,” He asks, holding your hips and rutting his into you. “Need you..So bad. Fuck…” Joost whines, eyes stuck to your neck, watching the wound drip. Still so hungry. You’re dizzy, whether from the blood loss or everything else, you’re not sure. You think his head must be fuzzy too.
“Yes, please. Need you too.." You grind down into him, letting him know you need him just as bad, you've soaked your underwear you know that much, leaking pathetically as you dryhump him.
“Oh, fuck,” Joost sighs, shuddering under you. “Mh, hold on. Let me..” He dips down, giving a few more licks to the wound before you watch him nick his finger on a tooth and he rubs the digit to your neck, sealing up the wound with the inky black substance that drips slowly from the cut.
Then he’s tugging your shirt off, pulling his off right after. his chest is hairy and soft slightly. “Can I touch you, please?” You ask, unable to take your eyes off him, finally getting to see him how you wanted to the first day when you saw his tummy, which is also soft. He’s a little pudgy and it’s so beautiful.
“Ja, oké.” He nods softly, watching you. You reach out and feel his chest, careful, gentle with him. He is so warm now, such a contrast to how cold he has been, it’s good to feel his soft, warm body under your hands. You thumb at his nipple with one hand and he stifles a whimper at the feeling.
“You’re so pretty,” You look at his face, your blood smeared all over him, and it’s so hot. “You know that’s like the first thing I thought when I saw you. That you’re so pretty.”
“Really,” You nod at his question, and he smiles, lips splitting to show his sharp teeth. “‘Cause I thought the same thing.”
You pet at his chest, really feeling how squishy he is, before slipping your hands down his sides to feel his hips, the way his waistband has flipped down. He really is so pretty, and still you're surprised you trust him so much. He must trust you too, you realize, the way he sits quietly, letting you touch him all over.
"Can I touch you, too? Please, please…Fuck, you're so pretty, and-Oh.." Joost trails off when you take his hands and place them on your chest, letting him feel you up in return. You can see a trail of blood down your chest, the way he smears it with a thumb, not fully dry.
His hands go for your belt loops, hooking in to pull you down against him as he ruts up. "So pretty like this, covered.. In blood. Fuck," He huffs, swallowing hard. It's so erotic to him, drinking your blood and seeing it drip and smear on you. Well, you're not one to argue. "One more, please. I'm-…I won't take too much. You're okay right? I can..?" He groans, almost a growl, his hips bucking again.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I can take it, you can go for it." You nod, biting your lip a little, feeling the nip of pain of the split there. He whines, obviously watching you. He pulls you against him as he kisses you, your chests pressed together. He delves right into licking into your mouth and moaning against you, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy, the drool running down your chin. Then he's kissing down the other side of your neck and biting into you without any preamble, just taking greedy mouthfuls of your blood. And god it's fucking thrilling, the needy way he kisses the wound and sucks it, like he can't get enough of you. But he's true to his word, not drinking too much from you before he's healing the small wound. He kisses you with blood still in his mouth, it’s filthy and wet and runs down your chin, mixed with spit.
“You’re gonna fuck me now, right?” You ask, more than a little pent up by now, with the way the two of you keep rutting your hips together.
“Ah, ja. You want my cock?” Joost fumbles with his belt, managing to loosen it and unzip his pants.
“Yeah, can’t stop thinking about it when I can feel how hard you are..” you nod, watching him. He shoves his boxers down enough to pull his cock out. It's as if that’s where all the blood he drank went, throbbing in his hand as he strokes himself, just a little relief after finally freeing it. You can't help but stare at the way he leaks, and if you weren't so needy too you'd love to get your mouth on him.
You struggle slightly to get your own jeans and underwear off, but eventually manage. Joost doesn’t even think to ask before his fingers are at your thighs, petting the soft pale skin, creeping upward quickly. He doesn’t waste much time there, feeling how slick you are before grabbing your hips and pulling you close. You sink down slow and careful, both of you sighing when you bottom out.
He shifts a little, squishing one of his pillows behind his back and leans back. Steadying himself so he can hold onto you and thrust into you. He pants against your neck, kissing there, licking at the not yet dry blood on one side. You feel his teeth scrape but not puncture, just teasing. It makes you tense almost, thinking he’s going to do it, going to bite you again. He doesn’t, he just keeps mouthing at your neck.
You grab gently at his hair, tugging it slightly to get him to stop, he moans and his hips jerk up, slamming his cock into you. You’re both still for a moment before you’re holding his face in both hands and kissing him. Both of you muffling each other’s moans as he fucks you. When he pulls away you cover your mouth with your hand, keeping yourself quiet because his roommates are asleep. He's relentless, and you're fuzzy and hot all over, everywhere his hands touch light up with pleasure. He palms your chest, rubbing your nipples and pinching.
"Fuck, Joost," You gasp, rutting your hips down into him, matching his rhythm. "I'm- Oh, fuck I'm close.."
"Me too.." He whimpers, hips stuttering slightly but he keeps his eyes on yours. You can't even think as he stares into you, your brain all scrambled. He feels at your neck, you can feel the spot where he bit you the first time prickle under his touch. You can only sigh and tip your head to the side when he moves in again, you know what he's going to do before he does it, you know what he's going for when he starts probing your skin with his tongue again. Finding that spot, moving down to where your neck meets your shoulder, and biting into the muscle. You can't tell what comes first, your orgasm or the bite, but they coincide and you have to keep your mouth covered as you sob and shake in his arms. It's nothing like anything you've ever felt before, you've never cum this hard in your life, it's just so much.
You don't realize he's finished as well until he's pulling out of you and you can feel it running down your thigh. "Oh, shit, are you okay? You're okay right?" He asks gently, cupping your cheek.
"Uh-huh, I'm okay. I think I need a moment," You nod, kind of slumping in his arms, wrapping yours around him, his sweaty chest pressed against yours. "I just…Fuck.." That was a lot, you're dizzy, your vision a little spotty like you stood up too fast.
"I know…It's okay, you're okay. I'm sorry, I took too much, didn't I? I can't help myself, I've been so hungry and you taste so good.." He sighs, holding you and rubbing your back.
"I'm okay…I don't think I can stand right away, though." You manage a little laugh, resting your forehead against his neck. You kind of wish he were cool right now, his hot sweaty skin isn't the most pleasant thing in the world. He's talking to you, you can't really focus on it, you feel your fingers tingling slightly.
That's the last thing you know before you're blinking awake in a bathtub. The water's cool, reassuring on your skin. "I'm sorry," Is the first thing you hear. It's Joost, he's kneeling next to the tub, gazing at you big eyed, bushy brows pinched slightly in worry. "I didn't mean to, you just taste so good.." His cheeks and nose are a little rosy, it's cute. He's still so cute to you, he drained so much blood you passed out, but he's still cute. He's dressed again, you can see a white tank top in the dim light, one light over the mirror.
"I'm okay, I think. I'm still…I dunno. Dizzy like, out of it, I think." You slip a hand out of the water, wanting to hold his, needing that connection. Not well, human touch, but touch. He's still warm.
"I know, I'm sorry. Um- I have iron pills and there's a good shawarma place down the street that's still open." He rubs your hand lightly with his thumb.
"How do you know it's good?" You ask with a laugh.
"I haven't always been like this you know." He laughs too, it's a nice sound. He's nice, he took you to the bath, didn't leave you there, didn't really hurt you, you didn't feel any pain.
"Yeah, I just I dunno…Usually, you guys- Uh, vampires," It's weird to say it out loud after everything. "Are like depicted as super old and stuff. And you have reading glasses."
"I'm just farsighted, try to go without them usually." He smiles, that pretty smile where his lips curl up all cute.
"Well, anyway, I would like to take you up on your offer. If it's a date..?" You tilt your head a little, regretting it, it's sore now.
"Ja, sounds good. Wanted to ask you out since I first saw you, but it's hard." He frowns a little, looking down.
"Oh, yeah. I guess so, huh? Do you do this to every girl you want to take out on a date?" You slip your hand back, sinking it back in the cool water. It's clean, he must have washed you off and then refilled the tub while you were out of it, you think.
"No. I don't normally fuck my food either, just had to have you though.." It makes you feel special, in a perverted sort of way, even though you can tell it embarrasses him.
"Well, I'm glad. It would've been disappointing if you just bit me and kicked me out," That makes him laugh a little and smile again. Which makes you smile too. "I think I'm ready to get out, now."
"Okay," He stands quickly, his keys on his shorts jangling as he does so. "Here, take my hand. I've got some shirts you can wear if you want, your other one is kind of ruined."
"Oh, man… How am I going to explain this to my friend.." You muse, stepping onto the towel he prepared, glad to be holding him, still feeling lightheaded and weak.
"Oh, no," He laughs, wrapping a towel around you and holding you against him after. "I'll help you figure something out."
You thank him quietly, and lean into his embrace. Enjoying the quiet, calm moment after everything. You really don't know how you're going to tell your friend what happened. How you met a guy at the Internet Cafe, who actually works there, who is actually actually a vampire and you almost died from blood loss maybe but he gave you the best orgasm of your life, and he's also really pretty so you're not mad he almost killed you.
Well, whatever. You'll figure it out, ideally over dinner. And maybe you can exchange numbers so you can keep in contact when you go back home.
I’ve always wondered why people hate Joost SO MUCH and desperately want to see him fail. I wish I could get a concrete answer from these people that try so hard to label him as some disgusting criminal.
I think I’ll talk about this drama just this once and that’s it, also because it’s honestly making me sick to see that every fandom is basically the same. Some fans are seriously weird: they talk as if they actually know Joost, as if they understand how he thinks, how he acts, what he likes or doesn’t like, what kind of humor he uses, what kind of relationships he has with people, whether he’s matured, whether he used to be childish, etc etc...
Just stop. Parasocial relationships are rotting your brains. And this phenomenon becomes especially obvious when things like this happen, and when a platform (in this case Twitter, surprise surprise) is the one where the “scandal” involving the celebrity breaks out.
Stop it. You have no right to call him a pedophile or label him in any other extreme way. If it had truly been something that serious and heavy, it would’ve come out a long time ago and more importantly, it would’ve been dealt with a long time ago.
Feel however you want about Joost’s comment (it should be understood within the context of 2018 and how he presented himself online back then), but stop with this compulsive need to play the moral crusader. You’re not one, and you never will be.
Twitter should seriously be erased, because all the crap always comes from there (though I’ll admit I’m biased here, I fucking hate that platform).
Kylie's art hub @kylieistumbling - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
izzy806
