WE UP!! - Tumblr Posts

WEEED MOMENTM,

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REQUESTS R OPEN NOWW WE UP GANG‼️‼️‼️‼️ Though I don't know about making rentry templates, gulps.

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*sensually moving my hair aside to expose my neck* how's this for girl dinner

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bite me!

WARNINGS: 18+ content, minors dni or i’ll bite u

THEMES: mentions of blood, blood drinking, injury

suna rintarou x fem!reader, 17k

SUMMARY: you want to take your relationship with your vampire boyfriend to the next level. but mostly, you just want him to drink your blood.

a/n: ah yes… my one and only spicy longfic. hope you enjoy!!!! there’s a surprise at the end hehe

There’s a good reason why your vampire boyfriend, Rintarou, doesn’t drink from you.

A good reason, you’re sure of it. You just can’t remember it right now.

Right now, you’re losing yourself to the euphoric beat of the music, blaring loudly in the speakers of the club you’re at.

It’s a beautiful night, one you haven’t had in a while because of classes, work, and life in general. But your boyfriend had been adamant on taking you out, saying what’s the point of having all this money if I can’t spoil you, and had whined and whined until you agreed.

You’re glad you did. It’s been so long since you’d gotten dressed in clothes that made you feel hot as fuck. Hell, your jewellery collection has begun to collect dust because you’ve been so busy trying to make ends meet; in the mornings, you’ve taken to getting ready with the bare minimum and skipping all of your typical indulgences. Putting them on tonight felt like the first step in feeling like yourself again, instead of just being a long list of things to do waiting to be checked off.

“Stop thinking,” Suna yells over the music, snaking an arm over your shoulder, “I brought you here to have fun.”

You take a sip of your drink, before putting it back on the table, “I’m having a lot of fun.”

“Then why aren’t you on the dance floor with everybody else?” Suna teases as he pushes you to stand up. “Go on, I’ll guard the table.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling, “Let’s wait for someone to come back. I want to dance with you.”

Suna’s eyes flicker to the crowd. He smiles, “Guess the world is on its knees for you tonight.”

When you look, you see your friends stepping out of the dance floor, so you happily turn back to him. You extend a hand, “Come on then.”

Suna takes it easily, chuckling as you drag him onto the dance floor.

There’s some top 50 song playing in the background, and Suna leans over to say, “I don’t know how to dance to this song.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, turning around and leaning into his broad chest until your bodies are pressed together, the sweet curve of your ass against his front. “Just follow my lead.”

You move your hips to the beat of the song, and Suna follows, allowing you to lead him into a dance that starts out mindless and descends into something too euphoric for everybody else to see.

It hits you— along with being too busy to go out, you’ve also been too tired to get up to anything with your boyfriend. You go home, share a kiss, cuddle, then pass out. When was the last time you two fucked?

Considering how turned on you’re getting, the only answer is not recent enough.

And with the way Suna’s hands are gliding all over your body, hand sneakily travelling further down, it’s been too long for him too.

Neither of you even have to say a single word out loud. The two of you move out of the dance floor and manage to avoid your friends in the process of finding some dark corner of the club to relieve yourselves.

“You don’t wanna take this back home?” Suna says, his fingers tracing the outline of your hardening nipples. A fucking tease.

You shake your head, pressing his hands against your chest until he’s fully cupping them, moaning at the pressure. “No. I think we’ll end up fucking in the taxi—”

Suna laughs. “And you think it’s better we fuck here than in the taxi? Here, where there’s more people around us to see you with—”

You kiss him just to shut him up. “Everybody’s too drunk to notice here. Besides, I just want something to get the edge off,” and this is where the alcohol plays its part, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home. Please?”

“Since you said please,” Suna rolls his eyes. It’s meant to be sarcastic, but it just comes out fond— after all, you always keep your promises and return good deeds tenfold. You’ll give it just as good as you get later.

Suna finally pulls your dress up, and the relief has you wanting to lean your head against the wall behind you. You don’t. The best part of doing anything sexual with Suna is getting to watch him do it.

It’s the vampire allure, you assume as you watch him slide down your panties and press his fingers against your heat. His hand is smooth, his touch a little cold but it’s just how you like it. He makes you feel so good. He makes you feel so special, being chosen by this creature designed to seduce and get anyone they want for a quick bite, and yet, he’s here with you, giving you what you want—

A loud moan interrupts him, too distant to come from either of you.

The source of it is not too far away. A couple with the same idea as them, clearly.

You snort, ready to turn back to Suna when you make accidental eye contact with one of them. He looks to be about your age, but there’s something about his eyes, something dark and old and compelling—

Oh. The man sinks his teeth on his….partner’s neck and sighs something guttural and deep. Vampire.

Suna’s hand pauses from where it's playing with you as he watches the vampire—the man gets his fill, his partner looking for all the world at the height of pleasure.

You wonder how good it would feel to be in that girl’s place. How does venom feel when it travels through the veins, from neck to heart to pussy?

A hand grasps your cheek, turning your gaze away from the scene and back to your own vampire boyfriend. And once you’re looking at Suna, you find yourself forgetting the scene you’d witnessed.

This, you’ve come to learn, is the vampire allure. Suna’s not the first vampire you’ve met, nor will he be the last, as seen from tonight’s events. But you don't think any other vampire will captivate you like this. Suna’s dark eyes, framed with long wispy lashes, his luscious pink mouth, the way he moves—all of it invites you closer, until you’re close enough to be ensnared.

I should fear this.

Suna tilts his head down, mouth in a beautiful pout. An invitation for a kiss, perfumed with the barest hint of jealousy that has your heart fluttering in your chest. As if you’re the one who could have anyone between the two of you.

But Suna is the vampire here. He’s the one beautiful enough to seduce anyone into his arms, the one suave enough to convince you that they need only one bite, the one with venom that turns anyone into bitches in heat begging to be sucked dry; and yet, no part of you shivers or tries to pull away.

You’re the one cupping his cheek, the one parting his mouth for a dirty open-mouthed kiss, the one who ends up sucking a bruise that heals far too quickly on his neck.

Suna’s fingers start moving again on your heat and the sweetheart that he is, lets you fuck against it. He does this all the time, lets you take and take, like the act of giving was enough for him.

You love him. Your sweet little vampire. You want to protect him, though you know that your human body is too weak in comparison to do any damage to anyone strong enough to hurt Suna. You want to give him everything, have almost given him everything—

Everything, except the very thing all vampires want.

Your blood.

.

.

.

It’s not like the topic of it hasn’t come up before.

Once, early on in your relationship, when everything was new and you were both so, so eager, you had offered it.

You were in bed, half-drunk on each other’s touch and on the way to sobriety. Or at least, Suna was.

He had pulled away too fast for your liking, and when you whined, Suna’s eyes shimmered with delight in the dark, “So needy.”

“For you,” you reached for him, but Suna only dodged with a laugh. “I’m just getting thirsty. I don’t want to accidentally drink you instead.”

It was very cute, but you were awfully horny. He had left you with a singular thought: drink me on purpose.

And like any hungry little thing in the dark, the thought took shape and materialised into desire. By the time Suna came back, it was a fully-formed thing.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to brush my teeth,” Suna said, sheepish but looking very refreshed, “Because of, you know—“

He gestured vaguely, but you understood. To wash the taste of blood in his mouth.

It was considerate and any other time, you would have teased him for it. This time, though, all you could think of was that somebody else had been in your boyfriend’s mouth.

“It’s okay,” you said, feigning nonchalance. You stretched, leaning back on your hands, tilting your neck in a way you knew looked good, and waited until Suna was starry-eyed and mesmerised to continue, “You know…”

“I know,” Suna teased, coming up to you so that he was standing in between your spread legs. His hands came up to rest on your shoulders, but his thumb curled right at your pulse.

It felt like premonition and promise rolled into one touch.

You placed his hand over it, “I wouldn’t mind at all if you wanted to—“

“If I wanted to, what?” Suna giggled, leaning down to brush his nose against yours.

You stole kisses to preface your next words. Only when Suna was pliable and wrapped around you did you say, “You could drink from me, if you want.”

Suna jerked away from you, pulling away so that he could look you in the eye. “What did you say? Do,” He paused, as if searching for the right words, “Do you know what you’re offering?”

“I do know,” you said, trying to pull him back in, but he wouldn’t budge. You smiled, thinking it was his prudish sensibilities acting up. Suna was technically born at the turn of the twentieth century and had insisted that he court you properly before you could even kiss. “I’m serious. Why don’t you drink from me? I can give you however much you need. It would taste good, wouldn’t it?”

“You—“ Suna inhaled sharply, gaze fluttering all over as your words sunk in. His hold tightened, before he exhaled a hard, “No.”

You frowned this time, “Why not?”

“Because!” Suna sputtered, “It’s dangerous. I could kill you, what the fuck. Or worse, I could turn you by accident.”

“But—“

Suna continued, not letting you get another word in, “I could take too much, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me because of the venom.” He shook his head, “I won’t risk you—“

He went on and on, full of distress. Eager to calm him down, you told him you understood, promised you would never bring it up again, and when you laid together that night, you were filled to the brim with regret. You wished you had never said a word.

Looking back, you don't regret it now.

You saw. Suna’s eyes had darkened, black overtaking brown, and looked at your neck like he was wondering how it would taste. Gaze sinking in like fangs.

It was there, even if it only existed in the split of a moment in the dark. Even if it was pushed down a throat, swallowed-up, digested—

Suna had wanted it too.

.

.

.

Armed with the knowledge that Suna would be into it, you set out to convince him.

You do your research, take notes on all the do’s and don’ts, and collect enough information to create a powerpoint so thorough, it could educate all new Vampire-Human couples in the world on “How to Introduce Blood-Sucking into Your Relationship.”

You’re nothing, if not a planner. It’s the only way you’ve been able to make your life work, balancing your rigorous business course, your job, and your social life. You had to be detail-oriented with plans and strategic with your timing.

As such, you plan on talking to Suna when the other is half-awake and vulnerable.

It’s easy enough to find him in this state. Your boyfriend loves to sleep and coupled with his solar-intolerance, Suna is usually still asleep when you get home from work.

You let yourself into his apartment (our apartment, if you consider the amount of time you spend there) and turn on all the lights on your way to his bedroom. You carefully open the door and squint through the dark. Suna is still dead to the world. Good.

You let your  eyes adjust to the dark, before closing the door behind you. You switch the lamp by the bedside on. A soft, orange glow illuminates the room.

You sit on Suna’s bed, slowly pulling the covers back to reveal a sleeping Suna Rintarou. Scary vampire, my ass, you think. You had gotten warnings before about dating one.

They’re selfish, Y/N. Beautiful but vain. And only wants one thing and will stop at nothing to get it.

You almost wish that was the case. If it were, you wouldn’t have to stoop this low to convince your boyfriend to take it.

You stroke his hair, pressing a kiss against his cheek, “Good morning, baby. Wake up, wake up.”

Suna groans, turning away. You are undeterred, chasing him with kisses, “What, you’re not even going to kiss me back? Did you even miss me, huh?”

“You were literally here right before I went to bed,” Suna complains, though he gives you a small little smooch that softens his next words, “I didn’t have time to miss you.”

You remember a time when Suna had been so sweet to you. You’d ask, did you miss me, baby? And Suna would at least say, you were in my dreams, but it wasn’t the same.

You miss the honeymoon era of your relationship, but there’s something to be said about how comfortable you are with each other now. It’s another reason why you think it’s okay to bring up feeding again. You know Suna so much better now. And you’ve changed too, you aren't so eager to smooth things over and pacify. You know how to ask for things now without feeling shame.

“I missed you,” you say, burying your face in the crook of Suna’s neck, breathing him in. He smells just like that vanilla-scented perfume you got him for his birthday.

Suna’s hand threads through your hair, “Hard day at work—mhm!”

His words cut off into a moan, right at the moment you start placing kisses on the skin of his neck. You grins at the affected look on his face.

Suna glares at you, “That was not what I had in mind when you said you missed me. I just woke up, give me a good twenty minutes.”

“Thought you were always ready to go,” you tease, turning your head to kiss the hand that holds your cheek. “Are the years finally catching up to you, old man?”

“I will start crying if you call me old man one more time,” Suna threatens, “You're the one who looks older—“

You kiss him to shut him up. Sometimes, Suna talked too much nonsense.

And for someone who said they needed twenty minutes, he’s kissing back pretty enthusiastically. You push down the duvet separating you, with Suna kicking it away to help. There’s a laugh that dies between you, the moment you get a hand up his shirt.

In terms of seduction attempts, it falls somewhere at the bottom in your experience. You keep having to pause because you’re wearing too many layers.

“Who told you to wear all this?” Suna complains, to which you roll your eyes, “The weather. It’s winter. Next time, I’ll take off all my clothes before I go into your room.”

Suna watches you take each layer off with interest, “That sounds amazing actually. Please tell me more.”

You throw your  shirt at him, “I’m sick of doing all the work here.”

Suna takes the shirt and looks at you with puppy dog eyes. You know it’s fake, but you hate how cute he looks with it. “Really? Because what were you saying the other night? Tell me what you want, Rin, I’ll do anything—“

“You’re so fucking shameless,” you say, covering his mouth. God, you like it so much. And you know Suna knows that too, because the idiot just smiles under your hand.

Suna removes your hand and speaks in teasing pouts, “Yes, I am. Let me kiss you now, Y/N.”

You huff but lean down anyway. Suna rarely makes any demands of you; you find that maybe it’s for the best, for you can’t resist giving him what he asks.

He makes a pleased sound, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you so that you’re pressed together tight.

“Finally,” you murmur against his mouth. You feel more than hear his answering chuckle.

There’s a hidden purpose to your actions here, yes, but it doesn’t mean you don't enjoy it any less. You kiss with a certain languidness that can only come with familiarity. Sometimes, a mouth can be a home.

Sometimes, a mouth can just be what it is: a mouth, kissing its way down the column of your neck. Here is the point, where you wish Suna would forget all about the rules and just bite. But all he does is press kisses before moving on—

Or tries to. You keep him there with a firm hand on the back of his head and whine, “I like it when you kiss me there.”

Suna groans, a quiet rumble that creates ripples of goosebumps rise on your skin. You breathe in deep, and think that he’lll indulge you a little bit more, but as always, when it comes to your neck, Suna has other plans.

Suna’s hand is halfway down your pants when he says, “Wanna eat you out instead.”

Go right on ahead, you want to say, but you know the moment Suna’s mouth is on your pussy, it’s over. Brain emptied out of everything except for his warm breath and experienced tongue. It would be so good, but priorities.

“Hold on,” you say, stopping his hand from touching you further. “Can we actually talk for a sec?”

“We’re talking right now,” Suna says, giggling at his little joke, but when he sees that you’re serious, he goes, “Y/N, couldn’t you have started with this, before you ambushed me in my own bed and started taking off your clothes?”

You lie through your teeth, “I just remembered! Shut up.”

Suna does as he’s told, running a hand through his messy bed hair. He stares at your topless form with longing, “Can you at least put a shirt on?”

“No,” You say, grabbing Suna’s hands in yours. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

“Okay,” Suna sighs, “What’s up?”

“Before I say it, can you promise not to say no immediately? Like, just hear me out first, okay?” you plead, and only when Suna nods do you continue, “I really, really, really want you to drink from me—“

Suna’s hands try to escape from your hold, but you squeeze it and give him a look that keeps all of Suna’s protests stuck in his throat. “Please?” You beg, because in the name of pleasure you are not above it, “I know you have reservations about it. It can be kind of scary, even for me, who really wants it. But it’s a lot like other things, in the way that we can work up to it, or figure out a way that works for both of us. We can do a lot of things to prepare for it.”

Suna stares at you, and you hold your breath, ready to pull out statistics of accidental turnings slash deaths in consensual Vampire-Human relationships out of your ass. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Suna quietly asks, “Like what?”

You swallow your own eagerness. You don't want to sound like you’re gagging for it. “I was talking to people about it, but you can try to get used to the taste of my blood or even the smell of it,” you bite your lip, “Or the first couple of times we try it, someone could be there to watch.”

Suna doesn’t seem convinced but doesn’t say anything.

At that, you continue, “I think it would be really good for us. I thought long and hard about it, and I’ve wanted it for the longest time. I know the risks, but it would be worth it, I think.”

He sighs, which is starting to sound like hope—until he says his next words, “Why do you want it? Is it just a sex thing? Are you getting bored?”

“What?” you ask, a little appalled at the insinuation. Well. It’s not completely wrong, but Suna doesn’t need to know that. “No, I just want it. It doesn’t even have to be a sex thing unless you want it,” you look down at your intertwined hands, “I just want to be able to provide for you. You always spoil me with gifts, take me out to such nice places, and make sure I’m not dying of stress from all my obligations. I love you. I want to take care of you for once.”

Suna’s frown deepens, and you can’t help but reach over to rub the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be mad at me—“

“I’m not mad at you,” he sighs heavily, pulling your hand away, “For the record, you do take care of me all the time. I’m just worried, because I love you, you idiot.”

“And I trust you. I’ve gotten all the warnings. I’ve done the research. I know the risks, but what can I do? I still want to try. If anything goes wrong, we can stop and forget about it. But let’s at least try.” you hum, “Please? For me?”

Suna makes a displeased noise before letting himself fall against his pillows, “I’m going to regret this.”

You laugh, parts happy, parts relieved. You follow his movement, pressing kisses to his cheek, “I’m not going to let you regret this. It’s going to be so good. Baby, we’re going to feel so good.”

.

.

.

You actually have a powerpoint that you eventually show Suna.

“Please pay attention,” you say, watching the words, Blood Drinking, spin its way to the screen. Yes, you’re using transitions in this powerpoint. Yes, you spent an hour making said powerpoint. No one better fucking judge. “I worked hard on this.”

Suna squints at the laptop, like a man would look at a dead body—filled with morbid curiosity, “Alright.”

He clicks on the space bar and together, you watch as the slide flips into the next one. The word, PROS, guarded by two vampire emojis slides into the center. He clicks the space bar again and slowly the words, HOT, SEXY, we would <3 love <3 it, i would be a literal snack, fade into existence.

“You—” Suna turns to you in judgement, but you raise your hand to silence him, “I’m right and you know it!”

“A literal snack?” Suna asks with raised brows.

You sniffs, “I already am metaphorically. But if you bite me, nobody would be able to deny it.”

Suna rolls his eyes, “Everybody already thinks you’re hot. Show me your cons.”

You hit the spacebar. CONS slowly fades into view. So does a tiny little coffin emoji.

“You’re terrible,” Suna groans, but you’re not done yet, “Wait, there’s more—”

You hit the spacebar again, and sentence by sentence, these words fly in:

i could die (but in a sexy way).

but you would be sad (not in a sexy way).

Suna closes his eyes, and you have to hit his shoulder, “It’s kind of funny. Please laugh.”

“The High Vampire Council is going to put a stake through my heart if you die, Y/N. I feel a little stressed,” he shields his face from view.

“But I’m not going to die,” you reassure him, and then pause as a tiny existential crisis passes through you, “I mean, I will, someday. But not until you suck me dry—”

.

.

.

The Carrd masterpost on safe blood drinking you found on the internet said to start small.

Get your vampire used to your blood.

And so when you accidentally cut yourself while making dinner, you call Suna over immediately.

“Smell this,” you instruct, pushing your bloody finger towards him. Suna covers his nose, “No, thank you.”

You gape at him, “Why are you covering your nose?” you huff, looking at your finger before bringing it up to your nose. It doesn’t smell like anything. Just good ‘ole coppery blood. And then it occurs to you, “Oh, is it because it smells too good? If so, I completely understand.”

Suna pinches his nose, like he’s smelling something bad, “Sure, babe. That’s exactly it. What blood type are you again? Type A, huh? Gotta say, my favourite is Type O—”

You turn away, running your finger through water to clean the cut. You can’t believe you were born a Type A. How could they do this to you and the love of your life?

Arms wrap around your waist and a chin is placed on your shoulder. Against your ear, Suna  whispers, “I’m just kidding. It smells pretty good, actually.”

“You’re so nice,” you sulk, “If it smelled good, then why were you so unaffected, huh?”

“Because I’m well-fed. And smell alone isn’t going to make me the deranged vampire you’re seeing in whatever vampire porn you’re watching—“

“I do not watch vampire porn—“

Suna just ignores you, “I’d have to be starving for days.”

You turn to him, but he’s not even looking at you. He’s looking at your finger, clean of blood though the cut is still there. He continues with a sigh, “And it depends on the source, really. I don’t know why, but it tastes better right at the pulse.”

You look at your finger, “So not there?”

Suna burrows against your neck, “No, it would be better by your wrist,” and inhales deep, “the best here.”

You bite your lip, steeling yourself against the kitchen counter, and say, “Stop, I still have to eat,” but you don’t mean it.

“I know,” Suna murmurs, moving away. “I’m hungry too.”

It’s so unfair how you have to work up to it.

Ever since the possibility of it opened up between you, Suna’s been less restrained. Fidgeting with necklaces you wear, staring at your neck, and looking like he’s a breath away from devouring you just like he did now. You feel heated at the thought.

“Go then,” you say, pushing him towards the fridge where you keep his blood supply. “We can try it another time.”

You feel like you can only breathe once he’s out of the kitchen.

.

.

.

False starts and stupid Carrd masterposts aside, they take their first step at some house party.

You had just finished taking a shot of vodka, when Suna came up to you to whisper, “Don’t drink too much tonight.”

You don't think too much about it, thinking that maybe he’s just reminding you that you got a bit too drunk last time and had to haul your ass up several flights of stairs.

Unfortunately for him, you still get a little bit drunk. Get a little more drunk as you play a bit of beer pong with your friends. Totally fucking drunk by the time you spill somebody else’s can of beer on the floor. At the end of the night, you’re sloppily making out with Suna on the couch until somebody yells at the both of you to get a room.

And because you’re you, you drag your boyfriend to a room. A bathroom. Which is still a room.

God, you’re so drunk. You giggle against Suna’s shoulder as he tries to support your weight.

“I thought I told you that you shouldn’t drink too much,” Suna pushes you until you’re resting against the counter, “Sit here.”

It takes some coordination for you to pull yourself up, so that you’re sitting on the counter. “Rin,” you say, super happy in a way only you could be without your inhibitions, “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, highly amused. “Can’t even be mad at you when you look so cute. You’re rarely relaxed like this.”

You pout, wrapping your arms around him, “What do you mean? I’m always relaxed when I’m with you. Because I loooooove you.”

Suna laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. It pricks at your tender heart. Your boyfriend is so sweet. You should do something for him. Something super romantic, like suck his dick.

Your brain catches up to you, “Why didn’t you want me to drink? Drinking is fun. I wish we could get drunk together. How come you can’t get drunk?”

“I can,” Suna rolls his eyes. “If I drink from someone drunk, then I can get drunk.”

You sit up straight, “So? Drink from me then.” You offer up your neck so fast you end up bumping your head against the bathroom mirror behind you.

“That was my plan,” Suna rolls his eyes, as he massages the back of your head. “But you’re a little too intoxicated right now, babe. I can’t believe Ihave to be the responsible one tonight.”

You pout, “It’s your turn to be responsible. I’m tired of being the responsible one in this relationship.” For some reason, because everything is delayed maybe, you realise what he just said, “Wait, what do you mean that was the plan? You were going to bite me? Rin, what the fuck?”

You shake his shoulder, to which he only laughs, “Sober up then, babe. I’m not biting you while you’re this intoxicated.”

“But,” you whine, “You know I’ve been wanting this. Rinnie.”

“Y/N,” Suna says, trying to be stern but failing. “Sober up a little at least. Drink some water.”

You whine, “We fuck even when I’m drunk. How is this different? If it’s consent you want, I’m giving my enthusiastic consent right now. Bite me, bite me!”

Suna eyes widen as he hurriedly covers your mouth, “Shut up, people can hear you. I swear, you lose your shame when you’re drunk.”

You lick the hand covering your mouth and Suna hastily takes it away, wiping it on yout jeans. You laugh, “I’ll sober up if you kiss me.”

Suna frowns, but doesn’t say anything when you cup his cheeks and pull him in for a filthy kiss. You part open his mouth, licking into it as his hands find their way to your ass. In return, your own hands move to his ass and squeeze hard while he yelps in surprise.

“Be gentle,” Suna pulls away from you with a glare, breaking the string of spit connecting your mouths with the swipe of his fingers.

You massage his ass in apology, though you say, “I thought you liked it when I played with your ass—“

Suna lowers his gaze, mumbling, “Only when you use your mouth…”

You lick your lips as you look at him. So cute. Considering all the nasty shit you’ve already done with each other, there really is no reason for him to be so shy. God, he’s the cutest one-hundred plus year old virgin-looking non-virgin you’ve ever seen. You imagine the bitch that took your boyfriend’s virginity and curse them. Lucky bastard.

Suna looks back up at you and says a stunner of a one-liner, “I’m hard.”

You laugh and finger the button of his jeans, “And what do you want me to do about it?”

Suna grumbles something you’re far too drunk to hear. “What’d you say?”

“I said, you’re kind of annoying. You’re even worse when you’re drunk,” Suna repeats with a roll of his eyes.

You cup his cheeks, pulling him close and giving him a big fat smooch, “It’s because you’re too cute when you’re annoyed at me.” his frown deepens, and you kiss him, again and again and again, until he’s pliant again. You don’t even fight the urge to smirk when you say, “I’m sorry, baby, I’ll take care of it—“

And then promptly unbutton his jeans and finally, finally touch him.

“S-shit,” Suna squeaks, before covering his mouth and muffling all the sweet noises he’s making. Hmph. Acting like this when he’s already leaking pre-cum all over your hand. You want him to give in. You want your beautiful boyfriend to fall apart right in front of you. You want to swallow him whole and cum in your mouth.

You hold him tight by the base, and it has Suna whining, “Why did you stop?”

“Because,” you hop off the counter and push him against the wall of the bathroom. Kneeling in front of him in lieu of an explanation as you press a kiss against the head of his cock, smearing cum against your lips. You lick your lips, swallowing the taste as you look up into his eyes, “Taste so good.”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Suna groans, his head hitting the wall behind him. You’re smug as you kiss all the way from the tip down to the base of his cock, licking all the way up before finally, finally putting him in your mouth.

Suna has a pretty everything, and his cock isn’t an exception to that. Pink and curved and surprisingly big. You love it in your mouth, the weight of it on your tongue, love it even when it hits the back of your throat. It’s worth it for the overwhelmed look on Suna’s face when he sees you’re stuffed full of his cock.

You moan, mouth full, when his hand fists through your hair. “Y/N,” Suna  says, hoarse and on the edge of desperate, “Can you—?”

Anything for you, you want to say, but it’s not something that needs to be said. You hold tight onto his hip as you swallow him whole, hollowing your cheek as you come back up. You stroke where your mouth can’t reach, swirling your tongue around the tip.

Suna warns you when he’s close, but he doesn’t pull you off. He never does. Suna shivers as his orgasm rips through his system and you swallow it all until, sucking him until he’s milked dry.

You’re wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, when Suna pulls you up by your shirt and kisses you hard, all teeth and tongue. Even with his cum in your mouth, he doesn’t mind the taste. He never has. When you had curiously asked, he had only said, like the taste of you and me together.

He pulls away by a sliver, keeping his hands on your cheeks, “Y/N, tell me how drunk you are right now.”

“I’m alright,” you say, and it’s true. Sucking dick is always a sobering experience. “Less drunk than I was when you pulled me in here.”

Suna looks at you, like he’s weighing your words for how much truth they hold. “I want to try feeding from you tonight.”

You swallow, a wave of heat going through you. God, you were already soaking wet from sucking him off. You’re so horny you might cum without him even touching you. Like a fucking loser.

“At home?” you ask weakly.

Suna shakes his head, “No, right here. It’ll be better. If something happens, there’s a lot of people to help us out.”

You breathe in deep, “Oh, okay.”

They’re doing this. Right now. This is not how you expected the night to go, but you're not complaining. Though, your brain is also too overheated to think of anything else right now. “Tell me how you want me.”

Suna replies, “Sit back down on the counter. That way, in case it’s too much, you’re already sitting down.” He frowns, “I don’t think I should bite your neck—”

“Why not?” you blurt out.

“Because,” Suna says, uncharacteristically stern, “It’ll be too much for me. I just want a taste anyway.”

Suna takes your hand instead, pressing a kiss to the centre of your palm before moving down and stopping at your wrist. Mouth against a pulse. Kisses, kisses, kisses.

“Is that supposed to ease the pain from the bite?” you ask.

Suna looks up, but doesn’t move his mouth away. You feel the words as they’re spoken, “No. This is just foreplay.”

Only then do you feel something sharp poke at your skin, the sensation light before it sinks into your skin. It hurts so much, just as you’d been warned, just as you’d talk about prior, but only for a brief, brief moment, before what must be the venom coming through to soothe the pain. It has you relaxing at a pace that’s almost dizzyingly fast.

The pleasure spreads through you in waves, has you forgetting where you are, and the world narrows down to the point where his mouth meets your wrist. Suna’s eyes are closed, brows furrowed, and it looks so much just like an open-mouthed kiss if one were to simply glance.

Or maybe not. You don't know how you look, but if it matches how you feel, there’s no way anyone would think Suna was just kissing your wrist.

You feel him suck harder, and another wave of pleasure hits you. It’s strong enough that you almost fall back against the mirror, if not for his hand catching you back. The movement pulls Suna away from your wrist and he comes off with a bloody mouth. Lips and fangs covered in red, a single drop of blood dripping down his jaw.

You reach over, wiping the blood off his jaw with your thumb before pushing it into his mouth.

Suna sucks until it’s licked clean. Then he moves on back to your wrist, not letting a single drop of blood go to waste.

Your wrist throbs, pain flooding back in now that the venom isn’t pumping through you. You’ve only got one thought in mind, though.

“How was it?” you ask.

Suna licks his lips, still eyeing your wrist.

“Baby?” you call again and this time, Suna looks up, a hint of red in his eyes. He blinks a couple times and it takes a moment, but his eyes clear and turn back to brown.

Suna’s expression turns to worry, “Babe, are you good? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you say, though you wince when you move your arm back to your lap. “It’ll heal. What did you think?”

“Are you sure?” Suna asks, looking guiltier by the second.

You pull him into a hug, “I asked for it. It did hurt, but then it felt good. I enjoyed it.” When you pull away, you lean forward to kiss him before rethinking it. You haven't quite thought about how you feel about tasting your own blood. You shake your head and put on your most reassuring smile, “I wouldn’t lie to you. I enjoyed it a lot. Ten out of ten, would recommend, would do it again.”

It gets him to ease up and laugh, which means you’ve properly done your job. “Now tell me if you liked it or not,” you pouts.

Suna turns bashful under the question, shrinking into himself. “Isn’t it obvious? Of course, I liked it.”

“So you would do it again?”

“Yes,” Suna confirms, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then, he confesses in a whisper, “It scared me though. How good you taste.”

“Why would you be scared?” you ask, running his hand down Suna ’s back. “You stopped like you said you would. I’m fine.”

Suna shakes his head, “I’m scared because I don’t think I can go back to drinking anybody else’s.”

Well. You don’t have a problem with that.

.

.

.

You wouldn’t normally characterise yourself as the jealous type. You’re not, you swear. At least, not the type of jealous person you’d often see in some teenage rom-com. You trust your boyfriend wholeheartedly. He chose you when he could have literally anybody else.

He deserves better too. You don't know who, but maybe someone of his own kind. Someone who will live longer or forever. Someone rich, worldly, and older who can take care of him properly.

Deep down, you know this to be true. But you’re not magnanimous enough to do anything serious about it, like break up with him to see him free. Quite frankly, you’re too greedy to be selfless, and you want him too much to ever give him away. Besides, he goes wherever you want to go. He’ll be yours for as long as he wishes to be.

So, no. You’re not going around like some crazed asshole, glaring at other women for eyeing your boyfriend’s cute ass.

But… It doesn't mean you don't get jealous. You just internalise and bury it deep enough, so that Suna can’t ever sense it.

(That’s a problem for a different day.)

This, though—watching Suna drink somebody else’s blood—you just can’t let it go.

It’s ridiculous, you know. Suna’s not even sinking his fangs in someone else’s neck. He’s literally drinking blood provided by his clan. Government-sponsored, citizen-donated blood. And yet. And yet.

You kind of hate it.

All it literally is, is food for Suna. That’s what you know your boyfriend would say if you were to ever breach the subject with him.

But it always felt more than that.

Blood keeps Suna healthy and full and in control. It keeps him going, and you want to be the main provider of that. Suna should eat well, and is there anything better than your blood?

Of course, it’s about love.

Though if you’re really being honest, it’s about possession too.

You want to be the person Suna thinks of when he’s hungry and wanting. When he feels empty and aching, You want to be the person that fills him, whole and to the brim.

After all, what is possession deconstructed but your own desire to be needed?

It was something you could ignore when Suna had been adamant about not feeding from you, but now that you’re working up to it, you can’t help but want it. Be the only thing he drinks.

When you spot Suna about to take a sip from his blood bag of the night, you stop him, “Wait—”

Suna  looks at you wide-eyed, “What?”

You swallow, cursing your mouth for speaking faster than you could think. Your hands fidget awkwardly at your side, “I know we’re still working up to it, but, I was just thinking—”

Suna’s surprise melts into fondness, eyes from full moons to crescents, “Always thinking. What is it now?”

“I said I was just thinking,” your own nervousness melts too as you flash him a glare, “that maybe you should try feeding from me again?”

Suna eyes your wrist, still bandaged, still healing, “You haven’t even recovered. And I’m still not biting your neck.”

You immediately frown, “My other wrist is fine. You can bite me anywhere else. I don’t care.”

Suna scans you, all the way down to your toes, and asks, “Did you eat properly today?”

“I always do,” you snort. “I slept well, exercised well, paid attention in class well too, Mom—”

Suna makes a face, “Don’t say that—”

You join him, to where he’s sitting on the couch, and offer your unmarred wrist, “I wouldn’t offer it, if I didn’t think I could handle it.” A lie, maybe. You want to give as much as Suna  would take, regardless of if you could handle it. “I trust you.”

Suna raises a brow, “I am hungry, you know?” He shakes the little blood bag he has in his hands and says, “It would be better if I drank this first.”

Your jaw tightens, and your annoyance must show beyond that because Suna laughs at you, “You’re ridiculous. You know it doesn’t mean anything to me, right? It’s just food. Think of it as me having you for dessert. Saving the best for last.”

Food. Just as you predicted he would say.

Suna leans over and you tilt your cheek, expecting a kiss there. But the kiss never lands on your cheek. Instead, you feel it on your neck, like the brush of a butterfly’s wing. “I want it too,” Suna murmurs, “Just be patient.”

You feel heat run through you, and the gesture almost placates you. Almost.

Maybe it’s worth a conversation.

“Hey babe?” you start, avoiding his gaze. “Can I be honest for just a bit? And then you do that thing where you listen and you don’t judge and you keep loving me?”

You feel Suna slowly hooking your pinkies together. This time, you get the kiss on the cheek you were expecting earlier. It’s soft and lingering and accompanied by his promise, “Always.”

You nod and finally continue, “I don’t know why, but I don’t like it when you drink other people’s blood. I mean, I kinda know why, but it’s super irrational—“

Suna squeezes your hand.

You try to explain anyway and pray you don’t sound ridiculous, “It’s like…sex,” though when Suna raises a brow, you immediately backtrack, “I mean! It’s a metaphor. Okay, I am not explaining this properly—“

Suna laughs, stroking your cheek with so much fondness, “Y/N, you’re fine. I’m following, keep going.”

You take a deep breath, “Letting you and wanting you to drink from me feels like we’ve stepped into a deeper level of intimacy.” You looks down at your joined hands, “So, in a way, it is like sex, where I want it to be an exclusive thing just between the two of us. Where I’m the only one you want to do it with.

You shrug, like you didn’t just admit to wanting to be Suna’s one and only blood bag forever and always, “I don’t know, that’s just what I want, but obviously, thinking clearly and logistically, there will be times where you can’t drink from me. Because I could be sick or gone or whatever—“

“Okay,” Suna  says, stopping you mid-ramble.

You stared at him, “Okay?”

Suna nods, “Okay. We can do it, but you have to be understanding when I have to drink from the blood bag, okay? I…agree,” Suna pauses, like he’s trying to figure out how to word it too. “I see what you mean when you say it’s like sex, but Y/N, it’s different too. Biting is different from when I drink out of a blood bag. Baby, look at me. Look at me.”

“I’m looking,” you bite your lip.

“You are the only one I want to do this with,” Suna says earnestly. “Okay? You’re my dream come true.”

“That’s,” you sniff, “You’re my dream come true.”

Suna presses your foreheads together and says, “So, let’s do it. Just you from now on, except for the times where we really can’t. Alright?”

It’s fair.

.

.

.

It’s addicting.

Suna  starts feeding from you on a semi-regular schedule. Usually from your wrists. One time…on the meat of your thigh.

Always avoiding your neck.

You do it hours after Suna first wakes up, close to when you’re about to go to sleep.

You’re getting used to the pain, that first sharp bite feels more like a sting now, and it’s just become something to expect. You’ve come to like it actually, but you wonder if that’s just a pavlovian reaction to what comes after—euphoria.

That, you’re still trying to wrap your mind around. Suna’s venom is designed to make his prey weak and willing, to take the struggle out of feeding. It feels sickening to think about, but you know that’s not how it is for you.

You’re already so willing and he’s no prey. Sometimes, when Suna struggles to pull away, too drunk and dazed from the taste of your blood, you think it’s the other way around.

Or maybe, it’s both.

A mutual addiction neither of can help but lose yourselves to.

.

.

.

“You look like you’re in a very good mood,” Hina comments when you meet up at your favourite cafe. “You have that glow.”

You’re on the side of the table closest to the window so you ask, “Do you mean the sun? Shining on my face?”

You pose for Hina.

She gives you a disgusted look, “No. I mean, you look happy. And relaxed. Like the permanent stick up your ass has been pulled out for once. What’s new with you?”

“Nothing’s new with me,” you squint at her, “But I am happy. In general. School’s the same. Work’s the same. Boyfriend’s the same.”

Hina opens her mouth before decisively shutting it. You’re suspicious, “What? Say it.”

“We’re in public, so I decided to hold it in,” Hina says, like she’s finally decided to learn shame. Must be the influence of her two so-called angelic boyfriends. Or maybe not, because Hina leans close to whisper, “Did you finally tell your boyfriend about your biting kink?”

Ah, there’s the Hina you know and love.

You narrow your eyes at her, “Dude. I told you that in confidence. How dare you bring it up in broad daylight?”

Hina makes a face, “Maybe it isn’t the biting kink then?”

“You also have a biting kink!” you whispered threateningly. You found that out about each other at one drinking game, at some party, where you got voted most likely to be a monsterfucker. It was so embarrassing, but Hina had patted you on the back and said, me too. Made you feel a little bit less embarrassed.

It changed your friendship. Made it stronger for some reason. You knew you could be honest with her, because you were the same. Something about birds of the same feather flocking together or some shit like that.

Hina simply shrugged, “I have both a vampire and a werewolf as a boyfriend. I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“No, it’s not,” you argue, if only to get one over Hina, “You might just be a big Twilight fan.”

You and Suna giggle over it often. Suna (not so) secretly refers to Hina as Bella Swan, which causes her so much grief. Hina already isn’t a fan of romance movies, but the constant Bella Swan comparisons drove her over the edge. It was hilarious.

Hina’s nose flared, “Weren’t we talking about you?”

You stretch in your seat, arms raised above your head, which causes Hina to gasp, “It is the biting kink.”

You immediately kick her, looking around to see if people heard her, but thankfully, everyone is busy minding their own business. You hold your hands in your lap and hiss, “Shut up!”

It looked like the clouds had parted for Hina, understanding setting in like the sun. “That’s fucking why Rintarou was at Oikawa’s apartment that one time. Your boyfriend was asking my boyfriend for advice.” You want to wipe Hina’s smug expression from her face. “I always did find it weird that he never fed from you. I just figured he had Victorian sensibilities.”

You struggle not to confirm it. Suna did have something akin to Victorian sensibilities, though that didn’t stop him from being absolutely nasty in the bedroom.

“It’s complicated,” is what you sigh out. “We’re figuring it out. He’s just scared he’ll lose control and I wouldn’t be able to tell him to stop, ‘cause I’m too high on venom. It makes sense that he talked to Tooru, no wonder he’s been so firm about things.”

“It’s funny, because I know you’re a responsible person,” Hina muses, “But I also know you have zero impulse control sometimes.”

You groan, running a hand through your hair, “I do and I don’t. When it comes to the things I want, I really don’t have it. So he’s the one who has to stop before it gets too much. Can’t believe it’s come to this. My boyfriend is my impulse control.”

Hina sips her tea, “Well, you look like you’re enjoying it either way. Sometimes, Tooru bites me when I’m stressed, so I can relax. He does it for Haji on days when he’s restless and about to turn during a full moon. Different uses. It’s the best during midterms though. You should try it. Very relaxing.”

“Ah, well…” You scratch your head, “We usually just, you know,” gestures vaguely, “when I’m stressed.”

“Ahhh,” Hina nods, grinning like a demon, “You guys talk it out and enjoy a nice cup of tea together. Yes, that sounds very, very relaxing.

You roll your eyes, “You know what I mean. Don’t make me say it.”

“If you say it, I’ll give you a tip,” she offers. “You’re twenty-three years old. You can say it.”

There’s not enough alcohol in your system right now that would allow you to tell her that Suna fucks the stress out of you. At least, not in those exact words.

“Shut up,” you turn away from her. “We haven’t even worked the feeding thing while we’re doing it. Don’t know if that’s something Rin wants.”

Hina purses her lips, “Well, you could just ask.”

After you’ve made the whole blood drinking thing about love and intimacy and exclusivity?

Sure. You’ll ask at the next blue moon.

.

.

.

Or you’ll ask never. You are absolutely content right now.

“I think I’m getting spoiled,” Suna says, patting your hair.

You’ve just finished another feeding session, and you were this close to falling asleep. The ache in your arm was tolerable enough, and it helped that he was taking care of you right now too. Ever since he started feeding on you, he’s began to do the following:

He’d bring you lucozade to get you rehydrated again. He wipes the bite mark with a warm washcloth, cleaning it, and then bandaging it up. He’d even kiss it, just to help it ‘heal’ faster. And then he’d run his hands through your hair continuously until you fell asleep. Just like he’s doing right now.

“What are you getting spoiled with?” you asked, nuzzling your cheek against your favourite pillow: Suna’s thighs.

“Your blood,” he sighs, “Just thinking about how you’re going on that trip with your family, and how I’m going to have to go back to drinking my blood bags.”

You giggle, “You still drink those though?”

It’s funny how whatever weird feelings you’ve had about him drinking other people’s blood has disappeared now that you’ve come to an understanding about it. It’s nice. Maybe communication is key to a healthy relationship.

“I do,” Suna grumbles, “But it’s like the difference between eating frozen food versus food cooked fresh. Drinking yours would always be better.”

“Ah,” you tease, still too sated from the venom to sound anything but light, “So it’s not that you prefer my blood. You just like it fresh. To think that I was going to get my blood drawn, so you could still drink mine until I came back. Nevermind.”

“Oh,” Suna’s hand stops stroking your hair, which makes you whine, “You were going to do that for me?”

Suna’s eyes are so pretty, so starry when he’s touched. You reach up to brush his long hair away from his eyes. He should really get a haircut soon. “Of course. Gotta take care of my baby, always.”

“You’re the best,” Suna chuckles. When he leans down, you taste laughter in his kiss. “What a good girl.”

You snort, pulling away and covering your face, “It sounds funny when you say it.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Suna whines, following you with his puppy dog eyes, “It’s sexy. Or it can be sexy.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, unable to stop teasing him, “If you say so.”

Suna ’s frown deepens, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him (doesn’t matter how sore it feels). “Rinnie,” you laugh, “You’re so cute. I’m gonna miss you when I’m gone.”

“I won’t miss you. Only your blood,” Suna declares.

But when you leave in the morning, Suna is pressing kisses all over your face.

A prelude to longing—his mouth saying, I’ll miss you, over and over again.

Really, how can you ask for more than this?

.

.

.

It’s a fun trip with your family.

A week long trip in Bangkok, Thailand.

You eat your heart out. Pretend like you’re a kid again. Take a couple pictures for your parents.

Thailand is beautiful, and you make sure to capture it on film, very much excited to share it with your friends and your boyfriend.

Thailand is also two hours early, which means you have more time in waking hours to catch Suna awake. It’s especially nice for you, who misses him.

You’ve never really thought of yourself as a clingy person by nature. But practically living with someone, seeing them all the time makes you get used to having them in your everyday life. And to add to the fact, Suna wasn’t just anybody. He’s got your heart.

And even worse, you know Suna misses you too.

Still, you remind yourself. It’s only a week.

.

.

.

And what a week does to a person.

You come home to a sleeping Suna, and he’s not even mad that he’s woken up early.

Instead, he blinks through the milky white film of sleep and gives you a heart-throbbing smile, “Baby, you’re back.”

“I’m back,” you say, happily letting him pull you down for a kiss. The kiss begins sweet but soon ends up open-mouthed and eager, like your one-week separation has made both of you forget what the other’s kiss felt like and you were desperate to remap what you had known before.

Soon enough, Suna’s got a leg wrapped around your hip, his hand on your ass, and when he grinds his hard cock against your pussy, he lets out a low moan that has you growing wetter than you already are.

“Shit,” you curse, closing your eyes as you press your forehead against his. “I want you. Missed you. Please”

“Me too, me too,” Suna says, unable to stop touching you. Hands tangling in your hair, wandering up shirt, caressing warm skin. “Fuck, want you too.”

You waste no time. You press one hot kiss against his mouth hurriedly removing your clothes. Suna ’s shirtless and pushing his pyjamas off.

You finish taking your shirt off and are met by the sight of Suna stroking his cock, watching you hungrily. You raise a brow, removing your panties slower than you normally would’ve, and are rewarded with his whines, “Hurry up. I’m going to cum by myself if you don’t get here right now.”

“Go on then,” you say as you step out of your underwear, “You say that like I don’t enjoy watching you play with yourself. Besides, I know you can go again. Maybe I’ll suck you off too—”

“Shut up,” Suna says, frustrated. His legs fall open, his head falling back against the pillows of their bed. You bite your lip. You’re saying all this shit, but you don’t think you can wait either.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, people often say, but fuck, absence makes you so goddamn horny too.

You quickly join him in bed and are welcomed with open arms and open legs. “Missed this,” you murmur, reaching down to push away his hand. “Let me do it.”

“I’m gonna lose it if you touch me,” Suna whimpers, but you ignore it. Suna is hot and wet in your hand. “Baby,” He pants.

“Hold on,” you try to pull away, but Suna’s got a tight grip on his hair. “Babe, you have to release me, so I can get on top.”

Suna’s grip loosens, and you find yourself sitting up on your knees. It’s hard, because he keeps kissing whatever part of you he can reach, but you eventually manage, climbing on top of his lap.

Suna’s hands start rubbing your inner thighs, moving closer to where you need him most and intending to tease your puckered hole, but when he slips a finger, it meets no resistance and he groans.

“Fuck baby,” he whimpers, “you’re this wet for me already?”

“Rin,” you’re out of breath, every inch of skin feeling like it’s being set on fire. You need him. Now.

You’ve underestimated Suna Rintarou’s ability to be a tease however, because he just keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your wet heat, savouring the moans and broken whimpers of his name that are leaving your lips right now. You’re so desperate for him, that you shamelessly start fucking yourself on his fingers.

“Are you ready?” Suna calls out, smirking as he feels you squeeze down on his fingers. You want to argue, but you flash him a glare and a simple, “Please.”

“Beg me.”.

You squirm and pant and beg, “Rin, your cock, please, please—“

“Really did miss you,” Suna mumbles against your lips.

“Did you miss my hole?”

You’re close. Suna pulls out his fingers and watches your face contort in frustration. It isn’t until he positions his cock right at your entrance do you relax.

You’re panting hard, chest heaving at your ruined orgasm but Suna can’t find any reason to put it off any longer. He’s dragged this long enough.

And it shows—by the time he finally presses his cock inside you, you’re both exhaling, half in relief and the other half at the feeling. It’s a slow drag, but Suna presses on until he’s sheathed. You laugh something airy, “Welcome home.”

Suna doesn’t laugh back, face twisting in pleasure are the feeling of your tight, wet hole starts to overwhelm him. “Oh fuck. I missed this. Missed you.”

This time, you’re the one begging, “Relax, baby—“

“I’m trying,” Suna nods with an exhale, “I’m trying. Just give me a sec.”

Your fingers lightly brush over his chest, before pressing a kiss to it, “Let me know when you’re ready.”

It takes more than a sec. It’s maybe a whole moment before Suna nods and you start moving.

You start bouncing on his cock slowly, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. Your whole world narrows to a single hot point. “Shit,” you moan.

“Missed a good fuck,” Suna spits out, breathing heavily as he regains his bearings and grips onto your hips tightly. He starts thrusting up to meet your hips, and soon enough you’re both just a chorus of pleasured moans and laboured breathing.

Suna wasn’t always this loud. He used to cover his mouth with his hand or bite his lip to keep his moans in. You used to slow down whenever he did that. You’d pull Suna’s hand away or kiss him. Do that again and again until Suna had unlearned shame. Until he’d realised shame wasn’t allowed in your bed.

“Feels so good baby,” Suna whimpers, unwavering even when he’s breathless. Your hips stutter from the steady pace he’s beginning to set, and the sensation’s almost too much; it only gets worse when Suna starts praising you, “You’re so good for me, my pretty baby.”

His forehead is slick with sweat, but the almost carnal desire evident in his eyes is sending you down a spiral. “How could I not miss this, Y/N?” he continues, “You’ve ruined sex for me. Nobody else can fuck me this well.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” You hate him. He’s older than you, the one who’s more experienced and it shows in his ability to make you lose your mind embarrassingly fast.

“Should I say making love instead?” Suna teases, arms moving up until he’s gripping your shoulders. You fall into him, to his mouth, to shut him up, to give hima kiss, to swallow any further words. Your heart is hammering in your chest, the heat inside you building up to a fever pitch, tight and low in you belly.

“I think,” you pants, trying to move the hair out of your eyes. When you struggle, Suna does it for you. “I think,” you begin again, as another wave of tenderness swells in your chest, “I liked it better when you were telling me you missed me instead.”

It sounds sarcastic, but you mean it. You love being told you’re missed and wanted.

Suna knows it and indulges, even if he sounds like an absolute asshole doing so, “Ah, really? You like hearing I miss your pussy? You’re so romantic, baby. You’re so lucky you’re sexy. Is this getting you close—”

Suna moans when you start bouncing on his dick faster, driving his cock deeper into your hole. You beg, “Keep going, baby. I’m so close—”

Your knees are starting to buckle under the pleasure, your hands wandering until they’re wrapped tightly around his neck. You’re babbling at this point, your mouth moving on its own but you vaguely register you’re begging for him to fuck your harder, to fuck you deeper — to just keep fucking you.

“I love it when you lose your mind on my dick,” Suna moans out, unable to keep further pretence of his teasing, “Love what I do to you. You’re so pretty when you fuck me like that, don’t you know? You’re making me lose my mind. I think it’s time I bite your neck. I know you would love that. You’re always gagging for it—”

You nod, hiding your whimpers against his neck. Suna continues, one hand bunching your hair in his fist, “I thought about it while you were gone. Real long and hard as I drank the blood you left me. How you compared it to sex. How jealous you got at the thought of me drinking someone else. And I’m starting to think that thing you said about love and intimacy was an excuse. You love me, I know that’s true, but I think you just want to get bit—“

“Rin —“

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Suna says, lowly, against your ear, “The venom. You always look like you’re a second away from an orgasm whenever I bite you on your wrist, and you were so wet after I bit you on your thigh. I worry, sometimes, feeling like I’m taking advantage of you and your love for me whenever I drink from you. But I think you want it more than me—“

You shake your head, but you almost don't care about how exposed you feel. You’re too fucking close, and Suna’s words are just driving you further to the edge.

“I think you love it, the way it makes you forget everything but my mouth on your skin, the way you don’t have to think about anything at all for once. You love taking charge, but sometimes, I think you’d like to be told what to do just once—“

“I do, I do,” you cry, ready to lose yourself in the spiral. “Rin, I’m gonna—”

“Then cum,” Suna orders, so you do. You come with a loud, pitiful moan, gasping his name as the world turns white. Suna follows suit and comes with a groan, joining you in your bliss.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards, feeling his hand tracing silly little hearts all over your back. You blink, coming back to earth, and realise he’s already hard again as he pulls out.

“I can take care of it,” Suna says, hand already reaching down to stroke his leaking cock.

“Not when I’m right here,” You say, gripping him tight. Thumbs at the slit, spreading your mixed cum down to the base. The sickening squelch from your hand stroking Suna’s cock is awfully loud in the quiet apartment.

Suna’s eyes close. His hands don’t know where to go. Gripping the bed briefly, before rising up to his chest to play with his nipples. He’s so sexy.

“Baby,” Suna breathes, “Faster, play with the tip—”

You can do better than that. You lean over, swallowing his cock in your mouth. You barely get a lick in, before Suna’s shooting cum down your throat. You pull up, almost choking, cum spilling down your chin.

Suna breathes hard as he shakily sits up, “Warn a guy next time.” His words sound exasperated, but he’s reaching over for his discarded shirt and using it to wipe your face.

You let him, even though you know you’ll be better off washing it off.

Gone is the fire from earlier, only tender warmth remaining.

Later, when you’re washing up in shower, Suna says under the spray of the shower, “I meant it, by the way.”

“Meant what?” you ask, squeezing shampoo in your hands. You reach over and start shampooing his hair.

Suna closes his eyes, afraid to get soap in his eyes. “When I said it’s time. I feel in control now when I feed from you. Your blood is still the best thing I’ve ever had, but I think I’m getting used to it. I’m ready.”

You gulp down your own excitement. “When?”

Suna opens his eyes, raising a dark brow. “After we talk about your biting kink.” On seeing the expression on your face, he laughs, “You thought that was just me talking dirty to you?”

You focus on his hair, “I was…hoping…”

“Well,” Suna shrugs, “If you want it, I’m game. We just have to talk about it.”

“Really?” you ask, “You’re not a little weirded out by it?”

“An awfully long game you’re playing if you’re only into me for my fangs,” Suna reasons, before smiling, a teasing glint in his eye, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll be the vampire of all your wet dreams from now on.”

You grab the shower head and spray water directly on Suna’s face. He yelps. Serves him right for never letting you live. Fucker.

.

.

.

The Biting Kink convo warrants an emergency pre-meeting with The Bestie.

“You’re panicking,” Hina says, amused.

You’re pacing across the living room of her apartment. You deny any allegations of the sort, “No, I’m not. I’m excited. I’ve been wanting this. And now, he wants to talk about it. What do I say? What do I do?”

You really hate how Hina’s become the person you go to for things like this. But how could you not, when she’s got the experience? Being prepared is more important than your pride right now.

You stop, putting a hand up to explain, “It’s just, I feel like I’ve built it up in my head. Like I’ve been wanting this so much? And now Rin’s ready. What if I’m not ready? What if I don’t like it?”

“Dude, calm down.” Hina pats the open space beside her on the couch, “Sit down.”

You take a seat, and she pats you on the shoulder, “There, there. Maybe you should down a shot of vodka before doing it. Just to ease the nerves. You’ll be fine. You like it when he bites you on the wrist, right? It’s the same sensation, but better by the neck. Just intensified.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too, but now, I’m a little anxious,” you admit. You look at your hands on your lap. “What if it does go wrong? What if I lose too much blood, pass out, Rin calls the emergency hotline, they find me naked, and it becomes too much of a traumatic experience that we never try it again?”

Hina stares at you, “You need to go back to doing yoga.”

“Hina!”

She sighs, “Do you trust him?”

“Yes,” you say, exasperated. “I love him. Of course, I trust him.”

“Then trust that he won’t let anything happen to you,” Hina says, “If you feel faint, make sure to stop him. Maybe have a safeword or something. Apply normal kink rules to this. Maybe it’s good that you’re overthinking. Talk through what to do with each scenario first, before proceeding. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. What can you do about it? He can keep feeding from you. Nothing has to change.”

You nod at her words. They make sense. Logical. Easy to follow.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” you say.

Hina gives you a one-armed hug. It’s warm and comforting and you’re suddenly super glad that you have her as your friend. That is, until Hina speaks again, “I shouldn’t joke about this, but don’t worry. If you pass out due to blood loss, I’ll visit you at the hospital.”

You elbow her hard and Hina falls backwards with a laugh, “If it turns out well, I’ll make sure to get you a cake that says, congrats on the sex!”

.

.

.

“Okay,” you start, “I want you to drink from me during sex.”

You’re on Suna’s couch, opting to have a serious discussion in a neutral non-sexual space for once. Although, you’ve fucked on this couch, so you don’t know if it’s really that neutral. Anyway.

You squeeze his hands and quietly follow up, “Is that okay?”

“I’m down to try,” Suna nods, as if mulling the specificities over. “But your safety is the most important thing to me. I’ve been doing my own research—“

You grimaces, “With Tooru?”

Suna shakes his head, “No…I asked my sire…for advice…I don’t want to talk about it. It was really awkward, but Kita-san was really informative. So. Yeah.”

You nod,”What did he say?”

“He said to make sure I’m not hungry before going at it,” Suna’s thumb rubs comforting circles on the back of your hand, “That would lessen the impulse to overfeed—“

“What if,” you swallow, “that means it’s not as good for you?”

“Impossible,” Suna dismisses, “I’m always going to want to drink from you, and you will always taste the best to me. Moving on—“

He doesn’t even give you the time to blush and process before soldiering through.

“—the next important thing is you use our safeword if you feel even the slightest bit faint, okay? If you feel like you’re going to pass out, I need you to say something. Do you think you can do that?”

You think you can. “We both have a little more experience with it now, so I think I should be able to.”

“Good,” Suna says, before shooting you a worried look, “And make sure you get enough sleep before, don’t skip any meals, be extra hydrated. Stop drinking those smoothie meals for lunch, because you don’t have time to eat. And stop eating so much instant ramen—“

You roll your eyes, “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll stay healthy for you.”

Suna smiles, pinching your cheek, “You should really stay healthy for yourself, but if you need an incentive, I think you look really cute when your cheeks are so plump—“

“Did Kita-san say anything else?” You cut him off.

Suna thinks about it for a moment before cutely wagging a finger at yoou, “He said it would be easier if I was on top. I know you like riding me, but please, let me fuck you for once—“

“Let you?” you raise a brow, “You say that like you’re not the one who loves lying there and just taking it—“

Now, it was Suna ’s turn to roll his eyes, “You literally always manhandle me into cowgirl.”

You splutter, “That’s because I want to see your face when we fuck—“

And on and on they go.

.

.

.

Anyway.

The important thing is you’ve talked it through. And the next important thing is, you’ve decided on when you want to do it.

Because you’re you, you put it on your calendar.

The date for the big day ends up a little over three weeks later. Your classes predictably picked up with their workload, and then there were midterms to think about too. Factoring papers, homework, and studying, your calendar had filled out almost completely. Suna had stood over your shoulder as you slowly filled your planner with deadlines using a red pen.

When you were done, Suna took the pen from you and marked a quiet Friday after midterms with the word, BUSY.

“I think this would be a good day to do it,” Suna says, just as he doodles a little heart next to the word, before drawing an arrow that covers your entire weekend after. Suna grins at you, “So you have the entire weekend to recover.

The words were so bold, it made you blush. An entire weekend to recover from what?

Hot, sexy, kinky vampire sex?

When you ask him, the only response you get is, “Well, you know how we get after your exams.”

You do know. With a different pen, you make a reminder to go grocery shopping before then. Maybe stock up on electrolytes. Maybe you should buy flowers just to make the evening a little more romantic.

Great ideas, you pat yourself on the back. Nice.

.

.

.

Midterms, the entirety of it, does a good job of distracting you.

Though what’s in store for you is never too far from your mind. All you need to do is check your planner and you’re reminded of it.

It gets you a little hot under your collar, which is unfortunate because sometimes, you’re studying at the library, and you don’t really want to be thinking about getting the fucking of your life at such a dignified establishment.

You’re reminded of it too every time Suna feeds from you. How you’re one step closer each time to the long-awaited neck bite.

Anticipation needlessly grows in you.

.

.

.

When the actual day rolls in, the anticipation has grown monstrous. It’s grown acrid and yellow and can only be called anxiety at this point.

You’re free all day Friday, which only makes the restlessness worse.

You’d woken up early, in your own apartment for once, and couldn’t go back to sleep. You go out for a run, hoping to get some of the bad energy out. When that doesn’t work, you busy yourself with grocery shopping, hoping it tires you out. It doesn’t, so you continue trying other methods. You clean. You watch some drama show on your computer.

All it does is pass the time, bringing the day to a close and the night to a start.

Before you know it, you’re walking into Suna’s apartment with everything you might need for the weekend.

You’re setting your stuff down on the couch, when Suna walks out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

“Um,” Suna says, panicked, “Did you go into my bedroom?”

You tilt your head to the side, “No. Why?”

Suna relaxes immediately and gives you an innocent smile as he bounds up to you, “Nothing. Have you eaten dinner?”

You raise a brow, but don't comment on it. You say hello with a big hug, “I was going to make something.”

Suna wraps his arms around your waist, pressing kisses against your jaw, “Thought you were just going to order something for tonight.”

“I wasn’t feeling any of the usual places I order at,” you say, which is not untrue, “And I went and got groceries today, so it’s a waste of money when we have food here.”

You feel Suna run his hands down your back affectionately, “Just do whatever is easiest. You’re going to get wrinkles if you frown super hard every time you contemplate what you’re going to eat.”

You absentmindedly rub your forehead at that. “Easy for you to say. You always have one choice of what to eat.”

“Yes. I’ll be having you for dinner tonight,” Suna hums, and the hand on your back begins to feel like promise rather than comfort. Suna lets you go, “Just make your favourite. Ramen?”

You soften, briefly caressing his cheek. Your nerves ease a little as you’re reminded of who you’re doing this with. You pinch his cheek, “Cute. You really do know me so well, huh?”

“Ow,” Suna whines, trying to push your hand away, “You’re so annoying.”

“Shut up, you love me,” you say smugly, which used to make your vampire boyfriend blush. Now, all it does is earn you a roll of his eyes.

Predictably, Suna says in response, “Unfortunately.”

It’s still cute in your eyes. It’s made even cuter by the fact that Suna starts pulling out an old brass pot and filling it with water. Suna has zero use for his own kitchen, almost everything here is kept for you. The thought of it fills you up—you’re so lucky to have someone this sweet. Suna always does things for you without even saying a single word. Without even needing a single word of thanks.

It’s a quick and easy meal that solves one problem and delivers you to the event that you’ve been trying to manifest for months.

Suna disappears into his room, while you’re cleaning the dishes and putting away the groceries in the fridge, and comes back with a kiss.

“Babe,” Suna pulling away with a shy giggle as you stand on the threshold of his bedroom, “You’re not allowed to make fun of me for this.”

“Make fun of you for what—“

Suna opens the door to their bedroom, and when you take a peek, your eyes widen.

The room is dark, illuminated by lit candles scattered all around the room. The bed is covered in rose petals, forming the shape of a heart. Gosh, when did he even have the time to do all of this?

“Babe,” you say, covering your mouth, “This is—“

“I know!” Suna sighs, holding onto your arm. Embarrassment slowly seeps into his expression, “I just got this idea in my head and I thought, it would be cute. Since it’s kind of a special first time, right? And you’ve just finished your midterms and I just thought you deserve something nice and romantic—“ Suna swallows the rest of his words and says, “Y/N. Nevermind, I’m going to blow the candles out—“

“No, no, no,” you say, pulling him back, “I love it. It’s very nice. It’s very cute.” You can’t help but tease, “Very romantic… I’ve always wanted to have sex on top of rose petals.”

Suna lightly hits your shoulder, “I said, don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not!” you deny, cupping his face and pressing a sweet kiss on his lips, “I promise I like it. I’m into it. It’s really cute. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m really embarrassed now,” Suna pouts, “But if you’re into it…”

“I am,” you assure, though he keeps his pout for a moment more before nodding. He looks at you through his lashes, and his gaze, his gaze, feels like a stun to the heart.

The humour from earlier melts from the heat of his gaze.

Suna touches your wrist and asks, “Should we get started?”

You kiss him in response.

It’s a slow moving kiss, exactly what you need after a long day of overthinking. You feel your body relax as you give into the soft glide of his lips against yours.

It’s the first act of your sweet capitulation.

As you kiss him, you hear the click of the door being shut, and slowly but surely, you’re being walked towards the bed.

You pull away the moment you feel the edge of the bed behind your knees. You sit down, looking up at him, and say, “I’m a little nervous.”

Suna smooths his hands over your shoulders, “I can feel it. Do you want to not—“

“No, no,” you shake your head. Suna brushes your hair back, “We can do it another time.”

“I want it now,” you say steadily, despite your shaking heart. You nod, “I trust you. I trust me. Us. I just get worried. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then we’ll stop, like we said we would,” Suna promises. “We eased into this. We did all the steps right. But we’re experimenting, and it’s okay if we fuck up. We can always try again later.”

Suna says all this while holding your face in his hands. Like you’re something precious. You turn your head, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. You savour being held for just a moment before you ask, “If I pass out, could you make sure that the ambulance doesn’t find me naked?”

“Y/N,” he tries to reprimand, but the question is too funny that he ends up laughing, a shaking figure against yours. When he pulls back, he’s rolling his eyes, “Yes. I’ll make sure you’re clothed and covered if we have to take you to the hospital. Stop being morbid. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Yeah?”

You absolutely believe it.

“Now,” Suna says, sitting down and placing you on his lap. “Let me take care of you. You’ve worked so hard, baby. I just want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

You nod and are rewarded immediately by the dark bloom of his beautiful smile. It’s the last thing you see before you’re being kissed again.

Suna takes absolute control of it. He kisses passionately, full-bodied, like kissing you is the only thing he was put on this earth to do. His hands are in your hair, caressing your cheeks, touching your neck, exploring your chest—overwhelming your senses.

All you can do is take it and try to give back as good as you get.

Suna’s hand is cold when it works its way beneath the hem of your shirt. You flinch and feel him press soft butterfly kisses in apology.

“S’okay,” you mumble, more than appeased when Suna’s palm flattens against your stomach and travels its way up your chest. It’s the lightest graze of his fingertips over your nipple that has you shivering all over.

Suna swallows, eyes darkening as he says, “You’re a gift to me,” before pushing your shirt all the way up, so he can have full access to your chest. The only warning you get is the soft kiss against where your heart lies, before you’re being flipped around and pushed roughly up the bed.

“Look at you,” he says with awe. You can only imagine how you look, surrounded by rose petals, under the orange glow of the candles in the room. His hand traces a line from your chest all the way down to your stomach. “I need to send flowers to the god that gave you to me.”

Your mouth dries at his words. It’s not that you think you’re ugly nor are you lacking in admirers. It’s just that—nobody’s ever described you like this. There’s almost something religious about the way Suna looks at you; the way he touches you, in this room, right now, it can only be called worship

“Please,” is all you can say, not really knowing what you mean, what you wish for Suna to do.

He nods.

You watch him slowly lean down and press a soft, lingering kiss right in the middle of the valley of your chest. It tickles almost, the touch so light against skin it feels almost like a dream. The next kiss is just as light, an inch down, and then another, and then another, until he’s reached your stomach and—

You don’t even realise you’ve pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch until his eyes flicker up to you. Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity of his eyes, and you don't, you can’t breathe as Suna maintains eye contact as he gives an open-mouthed kiss so close to the waistband of your pants.

The brush of his cool tongue against heated skin is immaculate, and you find yourself slowly exhaling at the feeling. You’re a fan of delayed gratification, but never when you’re at the end of it. The lack of control has you taut with tension; Suna’s barely touching you, barely putting any pressure anywhere, and yet, you feel like you’re on fire.

“Rin,” you whisper, “Touch me—“

Suna gives you a look that has you swallowing your words. But Suna’s not entirely as good with denying you, not even to play a role in bed, and you find him moving lower, close to where you want him to be.

Just as you think he’s about to unbutton your pants, his fingers tease instead, touching your clothed head, before putting his mouth over it, laving at it with his tongue.

You have never hated denim so much in your life.

You’re sweating by the time Suna finally touches you properly, poking his through your pants with a small smirk. You can’t even begrudge him for it, the relief you feel is insane and it must show.

Suna pats your thigh and says, “Take off your pants.”

You don't need to be told twice, hurriedly taking off your shirt, before pulling down your pants then your underwear. Suna only helps by pushing your discarded clothes to the floor.

You’re fully naked when you realise he’s entirely clothed. “Are you…”

Suna shakes his head, “Later. Can you sit by the headboard?”

You crawl your way to where he wants to be and sit there without any complaints. But when you turn to look back at him, Suna looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh.

You frown, “What?”

Suna bites his lip before letting out a laugh.

“What?” you whine as Suna joins you, settling in between your legs. Suna smiles at you. He reaches over, and you think he’s finally going to touch you where you need him most, but all he does is pick something off of your skin.

You want to die when you see what it is: a rose petal.

“You had one stuck on your ass,” Suna snickers, and all you can do is cover your face, “Stop embarrassing me. It’s killing the mood.”

“It’s us,” Suna says, kissing your knee. “I’m sure we can resurrect it.”

You grumble, stupid, under your breath, but you can’t quite hold onto the disgruntled feeling when Suna starts kissing his way down your thigh. He passes the faded scar from when he fed from your thigh and gives it more attention, sucking the skin into his mouth and only moving on when he sees it’s bruised.

As if you could forget the feel of his teeth sinking against your skin.

Suna makes himself comfortable in between your legs, kneeling until he’s right in front of your pussy. He leans forward into your heat, giving it a kitten lick, like he’s only allowed a taste, and then presses his lips together, as if savouring the taste.

“Yummy,” Suna says, almost to himself. Your hands are curling into fists at your side, fighting the instinct to take control and have Suna eat you out already. The anticipation has you on the edge, and it paints everything Suna does in an erotic light.

Even this—the prim way Suna tucks his long hair behind his ear before finally, finally, putting his mouth on you.

“You’re perfect,” you moan, head falling back against the headboard as his warm and wet tongue dips into you. You think you can cum with just this, with the way his tongue is swirling in and around you, the steady roaming of his hands all over your body. You could close your eyes and just give in to it all, but you fight the urge.

After all, the view is the best part.

Suna’s mouth on you, eyes swimming in desire, saliva dripping down his chin.

You reach out and caress his cheek, wondering, who taught you this, who could give you up after seeing you like this?

As if Suna could hear your thoughts, he pulls away to take a breath and looks at you with his beautiful dark eyes, his delicate ink black lashes against porcelain skin. “Alright?” Suna pants.

“Yeah,” you nod, wiping the slick dribbling down his chin. Suna chases your fingers, licking it with his tongue, before sucking on your fingertips. You push them further in, until you’re knuckle deep and pressing down on his tongue.

The sound Suna makes has him pulling his fingers out. You swallow, “It’s your turn. Come here.”

Suna laughs, sitting back on his haunches, “I feel shy all of a sudden. I feel like we weren’t like this even on our first time.”

“Why are you shy?”

Suna shrugs, taking his shirt off to hide his expression. “Because.”

You laugh, fond even with how heated everything is. You reach out and sigh with pleasure now that you get to touch his bare body. “I don’t like it when you take charge,” you say, “You never let me do anything.”

Suna smiles, “You’re supposed to sit back and enjoy the show.”

“But I want to kiss you,” you pout..

Suna laughs this time, “You’ve always been allowed to. Come kiss me then.” But he’s the one taking off his sleep shorts and clambering over to you. “Come suck me off too,” he teases.

“Mhmm, finally,” you joke, but you think you’ve genuinely had enough of this drawn-out tease. Your first round is usually never this slow, both of you guys fans of fucking hard and fast just to get the edge off before taking it more slowly the next round.

Suna’s too busy pressing kisses on your throat, sucking hickeys like he’s marking the spot he’ll be biting later. The reminder has you pinching his side, “Rin —“

“Calm down,” he soothes, giving your chin a kiss.

You ignore him, reaching for his cock instead. You don’t have any patience left.

Suna gives you a look but gives in to your wishes. He’s rising to his knees, laying above you as he lines his cock up into your hole. You grip his back, steadying him as he slowly sinks into you. Suna let out a low moan, shuddering as you fully took him in.

You echo the sentiment with your whole heart and pussy. Suna’s hands massage your sides as he lets your body adjust to him. You watch his face, the slight pinch between his brows, the bite of his teeth around his bottom lip, and wait, with absolute patience, for him to move when he’s ready.

You distract him with kisses, placing them anywhere you can reach, shoulders, nose, the curve of his Adam’s apple at the centre of his throat. Makes a home in his mouth with a kiss so slow and intimate it felt like you were both beyond the touch of time.

Suna kisses back, deepening the kiss as he twines his arms around your neck. And carefully, he starts to move.

Suna’s hips rock exquisitely slow, and all you can do is feel the movement. Every time he rises, your grip on him tightens. You’re fighting the urge to move, to fuck back against him every time he thrusts into you. There’s a rush of pleasure running up your spine that you want to chase so bad, but experience has taught you the virtues of patience.

The reward is the carnal knowledge of why some people call an orgasm a little death, and considering the bite that awaits you at the end of this, you’re certain you’ll find the name apt.

So, you lean back against the headboard and watch your boyfriend take absolute pleasure from you. The sinuous wave of his body as he sinks again and again into your pussy is bound to haunt all of your future wet dreams. His face twisted in pleasure, with his half-lidded eyes and pussy-eating mouth, is what you will touch himself to when you’re alone—

“Y/N,” Suna moans, falling forward into you. You catch him, caressing his back, then his thighs, the muscles of which flex underneath your hands, “Are you tired, baby?”

Suna presses his forehead against yours, mouth parted around a gasp as he shakes his head. “I’m good. Are you—“

“Good,” you say, though that word hardly covers half of how good you feel. “So good,” you praise.

“I’m happy,” Suna pants, staring deep into your eyes, “Just wanna make you—make you feel good, sweetheart, love you so much—“

You kiss him, holding his cheeks so you can do it properly, deeply. A kiss you pour all the love you have in your heart into. Suddenly, it feels unbearable to receive all of this, to be taken care of and loved like this, without giving anything back. When you pull back, you beg, “Me too, let me make you feel good too—“

Suna shakes his head, “After, you can ride me after—“ He doesn’t even properly finish his sentence, like he’s trying to hold onto his control too. What he does is press on the bruise he left on your neck and asks, “Do you still want me to—“

You nods desperately, “Please, Rin, I’ve been waiting—“

You think you might die if he starts having second thoughts about it. This, you’ve dreamt about for so long. This, you’ve imagined the delicate mix of pain and pleasure far too many times. And you’re so close to having it, you’ll whine, you’ll beg, you’ll do anything to assure him you need it.

“It’ll hurt,” Suna warns, but you hear a promise instead.

“I want it,” you lick your lips, like you can taste the pleasure already.

“You remember your promise to me, right?” Suna says, “If you feel—“

“Yes,” you promise, “Yes, I will.”

“You’re not allowed to die,” Suna jokes, and you’re too delirious with need to find it funny. Suna descends on your neck, and your brain shuts down completely, surrendering completely to his open mouthed kisses, to the tiny nips he makes here and there.

You tilt your neck to the side to give him easier access and hear the low growl coming from your boyfriend. Yes, please, it’s yours, I’m yours, all of it—

You don’t even realise you’re saying it out loud until he chuckles against your neck, the sound vibrating. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at all, not when you feel your honesty rewarded by the wet stripe Suna licks up your neck.

It’s followed only by this admission: “You’re the only person who’s made me being a vampire feel like a gift, so don’t die.”

By the time those words sink in, sharp fangs sink in you too.

Unimaginable pain fills you, neck first. Instinct begs you to fight back, but you still, bearing it. The only thing anchoring you through it is Suna, who you hold with one arm wrapped around his waist and another tangled in his hair.

It hurts so much that the world is blurred around the edges. You close your eyes in fear that vision would make you dizzier. You don't want to faint.

You feel a hand stroking your hair. Your body begins to get used to the pain or perhaps this is where the pain begins to fizzle altogether, the venom reaching your heart. You welcome it easily, greedy for any and all relief—before you realise it, there’s hardly any pain left. Just pleasure in equal strokes.

The pleasure strikes through you like lightning, electric, all-consuming, and spreads like wildfire through you. You jolt, squirm, and would have absolutely thrashed if not for the way Suna was holding you down. The pleasure is almost too much too, bringing a sort of restlessness to your movement, heat wanting to get out but not knowing where to go.

“Rin,” you moan, not even knowing what you want him to do. Your hands go back to his waist as you suddenly remember he’s still inside you. You don’t think you have the strength to move, body too lax with pleasure, nor do you want to accidentally jostle him and ruin the bite.

You do end up grinding against his hips, small circular movements to give your aching pussy some relief. You don’t know how much time passes as you do that. You’ll only remember the way Suna gulps against your neck, the way he releases you, the single trail of blood dripping down his chin.

You watch the blood almost spill to the white sheets, but Suna catches it with his thumb. He brings it to his mouth, sucking onto it with his eyes closed. Savouring even the stray drop.

“Scrumptious,” Suna says, voice thick with rapture, and leans back down to lick whatever blood was left on your neck.

It’s a blur after that. Your tangled bodies giving into instinct. The essence of you together, hot as the blood shared between you stain the sheets.

.

.

.

You think it’s morning when you wake up. Not that you can tell by the light, as the room is hidden from the world with black out curtains.

You try to get up, but your neck aches immediately. Your hands go immediately to it, expecting to find a large gaping wound, but all you can feel is gauze.

You feel the cool breeze of a fan hit your body, a sobering feeling that has you remembering the night before.

The rose petals. The sex. The bite—

“I can hear you thinking,” Suna says grumpily, beside you. His voice thick with sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

You lay back down, relaxing fully against the pillows and what appears to be fresh sheets. You turn to your side and cuddle closer to your boyfriend , whose eyes are closed.

After a moment, they flutter open. Suna says, “I can feel you staring at me,” then with concern, “Is your neck bothering you?”

“It’s expected,” you mumble, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Thank you. I loved it. Ten out of ten, would do it again.”

Suna chuckles, dropping a kiss to your cheek, before settling back down and saying nothing more.

You slowly give in to sleep too. Nothing left to say as there’s nothing more to want.

You’re his completely.

a/n: i wanted a tender and sweet vampire fic to read but couldn't find one... who says you can't have a healthy relationship and be nasty in bed right... hence i wrote it instead... this is my first time attempting to write a long fic w smut so please be gentle w mistakes!!!!

also surprise! here's the powerpoint mentioned in the fic :')

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