studies in vampirism
summary: You haven't fed in a while, and Renjun's not afraid to engage in some research... tags: renjun x fem!reader, human!renjun x vampire!reader | smut! (unprotected piv, oral sex (fem!receiving), big dick renjun hahaha, renjun gets turned on by being bitten basically), sucking blood, needy/whiny renjun a/n: i was supposed to upload this at halloween...
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Renjun’s brain is fried.
He’s been staring at the same empty page of his research paper for, like, an hour now. Earlier, words flowed easily, now it seems like his native language has packed its bags and moved out.
And to think, this one isn’t even for class.
It’s for fun. Well… his version of fun.
It’s about vampires.
Renjun has always had what he insists is not an obsession, but rather, a fascination with vampires. It started when he was five, camping with his parents. They had just finished watching The Lost Boys the week before. At the campsite, in the dead of night, he glimpsed something in the woods: a flash of red eyes, a glint of fangs. He’d ran back to the tent and burrowed into his sleeping bag, terrified but electric with adrenaline. From that night on, he just knew they were real. And he wanted to know everything.
So he did. He devoured books upon books about vampires—fiction, nonfiction, romance, sci-fi, thrillers. If there was even a hint of vampirism, it ended up on his shelf. Movies are no exception. He’s probably seen the entire Twilight saga fifty times. He dressed as a vampire eight Halloweens in a row.
His therapist often refers to it as a “special interest”. He just thinks they’re cool.
He has an annatural amount of vampire lore catalogued in his brain.
And lately, he’s starting to suspect that you might actually be one.
You’re across from him at the kitchen table, the blue glow from your laptop soft against your face. It’s late, which is not unusual for you. You’re a night owl who’s usually wide awake long past midnight. Half the time Renjun wakes up to calls from you at 3 a.m., rambling about everything and nothing until he falls asleep mid-conversation.
But tonight, you’re struggling. Your chin keeps slipping into your palm, and the screen before you has dimmed from inactivity. You look…not just tired. Drained. Empty.
Renjun’s never seen you like this before.
“I think you should go home,” he says finally.
You blink, sluggish, lifting your head. “What?”
Renjun leans back and studies you—the washed out color of your skin, the heavy bags under your eyes. “You look exhausted. You should go to sleep.”
“Nah, I’m fine,” you insist, forcing a smile that looks more like a grimace. Your hands tremble before you shove them beneath the table, hoping he doesn’t notice.
He notices anyway. Something in his gut tightens.
“You’re not fine,” he says, softer now. He leans forward, elbows on the table, studying your face the way he studies his vampire novels. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m—“ you start, but the word tires halfway out. Your throat feels like sandpaper. You can’t seem to focus on the religion assignment waiting for you, all you can hear is the slow, steady rush of blood in his veins. It’s deafening. You swallow hard.
Renjun’s brow furrows. “Hey.” His voice cuts through the haze. “You okay?”
You force yourself to nod. “Just…lightheaded. Forgot to eat.” It’s true, in a way. Just not the kind of food he thinks.
Renjun gathers his papers, preparing to pack up for the night and send you home. His thumb catches on a page of notes, a paper cut shallowly slicing through the skin. Bright red blood wells at the cut, and he sighs, glancing at you in resigned silence.
But what he doesn’t expect is for your eyes to flash red as your gaze hones in on the fresh blood. Your lips part, and fangs extend from your canines to graze your lower lip.
Renjun gasps and goes still.
You clamp your mouth shut.
For achingly long moment, no one moves. No one speaks.
His first thought is: Holy shit, she is a vampire.
His second: She’s starving.
He says your name carefully, like if he says it too loud you’ll bolt. “How long has it been since you had blood?”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering. “What are you talking about—“
“Don’t bullshit me. How long,” he presses, his voice steady but quiet. Almost gentle.
You break, gaze dropping to your lap. “A while,” you whisper. “I’m fine, I just— I’ll go. I don’t want—“
“You’re not fine.” He swallows, throat bobbing. “Do it.”
You blink at him. “What?”
“Feed on me,” he says, and though his pulse is skittering, his tone stays even. “I know enough. If you do it right, it won’t…hurt me. Or turn me. I know that.”
“You know that?” You echo, half horrified, half…touched?
He huffs a small, nervous laugh. “I would’ve majored in vampire studies if it were a real thing. Of course I know that.”
You make a weak sound that might be a laugh, and that’s enough to keep him moving. He pushes back his chair and stands before he can lose his nerve. “Come on. Couch. You’re going to pass out if you try to get home like this.”
“Renjun…” you warn, still unsure.
“Hey,” he says, hand resting on your shoulder. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
The truth in his voice makes the insecurity in you fall quiet, but awakens the thirst simmering beneath the surface.
“…Okay.”
You follow him to the couch. It’s soft and sunken from years of study sessions and movie marathons. He sits first, then hesitates, awkward. “Do you need me sitting or—?”
“Lying down is easier because you might feel faint,” you murmur. “I don’t want you collapsing and hurting yourself. But it creates a kind of awkward position so…”
“It’s fine.” His answer comes out rougher than intended.
He exhales and lowers himself back against the cushions.
His heart is hammering so loudly he wonders if you can hear it, and then smacks himself mentally for even asking. Of course you can—vampire.
You hover above him before shifting closer, knees pressing against his thigh as you kneel beside him on the couch. From this close he can feel the warmth of your body, smell the faint metallic edge of your hunger in the air.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” you ask. Your breathing is unsteady, chest rising and falling right in front of him. Your eyes have gone dark and glassy, a faint glint of red sparking in the lamplight. The sharp points of your fangs press into your lip. Renjun’s mind, unhelpfully, wonders how they’d feel against his tongue, what it would be like to taste that sharpness.
“Yeah,” he croaks.
Your hunger stirs at the sound, but you still hesistate. It undoes him a little.
Renjun slides lower against the cushions and tilts his head to expose his long, pale neck you’ve always thought was so pretty, the muscles shifting with his movement. “C’mon,” he murmurs. “You won’t kill me.”
Your mouth waters, pupils blowing wide at the metallic scent of his blood flowing through his veins, at the fluttering of his pulse.
Your fangs lengthen, and Renjun’s lips part in awe.
“Okay,” you say softly. “It’s going to hurt at first, but then it should start to feel…good. If you feel faint or lose feeling in your hands, tell me. Once i start, it’s hard to stop.”
Something about that last warning sends a hot ripple low in his stomach. He swallows. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Your hands slide to his chest for balance—light, but he can feel the tremor in your fingers. And then you lean in, searching for the perfect spot.
You breath is warm against his skin, and goosebumps erupt across his body.
And then your teeth break skin.
Renjun gasps, breath hissing between his teeth. A sting, sharp and immediate is followed by a spreading ache. His fingers fist the couch cushions.
Then you drink.
The pull is strange and electric — a tug that sends warmth racing from his throat to every nerve ending. Pain blurs into a heady rush that’s practically pleasure. A dizzy heat pools low and heavy while his pulse hammers against your mouth. He has to breathe carefully to stay grounded, eyes fluttering shut against the flood of sensation.
He can feel you fighting for control even as you feed, and somehow, that’s what makes it harder to think.
A soft moan tumbles out of him before he can stop it.
His dick twitches in his pants.
Then it should start to feel good.
Surely you didn’t mean it would feel like this? Like his sole purpose is to be a blood bank for you.
Soft, painted noises laced with pleasure fall from his lips as you continue to suck the blood from him, your hand on his chest to keep you steady.
His eyes flutter open to watch the color return to you, high in your cheeks. Your eyes, dull and shadowed moments ago, flare with light. Your lips part around his throat, flushed and slick, your breath trembling against his skin.
You look alive again, dangerous and breathtaking all at once.
You’re beautiful.
His pulse jumps against your mouth at the realization, the heat between his legs vicious and persistent.
Your tongue brushes against his throat, hot and velvety and fuck he’s going crazy.
He wills himself not to get hard as you feast on him, but it’s no use. Blood somehow rushes to both his throat and his dick.
He snakes a hand down to palm himself through his jeans. Something he’d never do in front of you in any circumstance (besides in his fantasies). It’s as if someone else is controlling him.
Someone much more horny, and desperate to get off.
“Hhohh fuck—“ Renjun groans, mind swimming. His surroundings waver, all he can focus on is the feeling of your mouth on him, of the pleasure and warmth seeping deep in his veins, thickening his cock and begging for release.
You haven’t seemed to notice, drunk on his blood. Faint, satisfied moans vibrate against his neck where you feast, and it only drives him crazier.
His fingers fumble as he undoes the button on his jeans and tugs the zipper down, his muddled mind slowing his movements.
He goes to free himself when his vision closes in from the outside.
If you feel faint, tell me.
He reluctantly pushes at your shoulder, a half hearted stop tumbling from his lips.
You don’t move at first, still sucking him dry. He almost wants to let you keep going, just to keep feeling this good. But he knows he can’t—knows you wouldn’t want that, either. So he pushes harder.
You blink, surroundings reappearing, the soft texture of Renjun’s shirt against the hard planes of his chest beneath your fingers. The cushion of the couch beneath your knees. The smooth skin of his throat at your lips.
Your fangs slowly retreat, and you release him, your tongue hot on his skin as you lick the blood on his throat clean, almost apologetically.
Renjun’s cock strains in his jeans, a flush high in his cheeks. He drops his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he sucks in deep, steadying breaths. He feels lightheaded from more than just the blood loss.
“You got a little excited, didn’t you?” Your voice startles him out of his haze, and his eyes crack open to see yours trained on his painfully hard cock restrained by his boxers. A smirk quirks your wicked lips.
Alarm bells blare in his skull through the lustful haze. He sits up, fumbling for the zipper on his jeans. “Fuck—I’m sorry—“
Hot shame floods through him, but your hand lands on his, stilling his movements. Renjun stiffens, gaze flicking to yours. The heat of your palm is just an inch away from his cock, and he hates how his hips twitch at that.
“Don’t apologize,” you purr, voice deep and velvety all of a sudden, nothing like the weak whisper from before.
Renjun swallows hard. The sluggishness that had weighed you down minutes ago is gone, replaced by something alive and deliberate. Your shoulders square, and confidence radiates off you in slow, simmering waves.
You trail one hand from his chest to his collarbone, fingers light but sure, tracing the edge of his shirt before resting there like you’ve claimed the space. Your gaze catches his—dark, glinting with that faint red—and you hold it.
“No one I’ve fed on has ever gotten turned on like this.”
His face burns hotter. “I thought you said it was supposed to feel good,” he mutters, staring down at his hand beneath yours.
“Yeah but not this good,” you say, squeezing his hand and pushing it down, generating friction against his clothed cock. He whimpers, lashes fluttering.
He misses the way your eyes flash at the sound.
“So all that obsession with vampires led you to wanting to fuck one, hm?” you murmur, lips curving into a small, knowing smile. It’s not cocky, but it’s undenaibly self assured, a predator remembering it’s strength.
Renjun’s breath stutters. He can’t decide if its fear or fascination coiling tight within him. Probably both.
It’s not like Renjun has never considered sex with a vampire. He has… a lot. Mostly with you, the person he has speculated being one for so long.
When alone, he’d imagine what it would feel like for you to bite him as you ride him, the heat of your mouth on his throat, the pain from your fangs sinking into his skin, your hot, tight, and slick pussy taking him with every desperate roll of your hips.
Or those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, adrenaline racing through him as you suck him off, careful not to let your fangs pierce or graze him—the risk of it all.
One too many used tissues have thoughts of you all over them.
He shrugs, too ashamed to reveal what he really wants, but you’re determined to get him to crack.
“Junnie,” you whisper, moving his hand to palm his cock yourself. A shudder rattles through him, and he can’t help but lightly grind his hips into your hand. Your voice is like an encantation: hypnotic, mesmerizing, pulling him in—your eyes a deep well he can’t help but fall into. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“W-what?” His pulse pounds behind his ears, jaw dropping in shock.
Your thumb skates over his bottom lip. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me, don’t you, Renjun?”
He hesitates. He wants you so bad, wants to experience sex with a vampire—sex with you. But…it’s you. One of his best friends. He doesn’t want to ruin that.
You lean in, breath ghosting over his lips. He lists forward instinctively, aching to bridge the gap.
“I’m giving you the research opportunity of a lifetime,” you whisper, lips brushing his.
It hits him like a spark: the part of him that’s curious to his own detriment, the unfinished paper still glowing on his laptop, the need to know. You’re a magnet, pulling him past fear, past reason.
He shudders, surrendering before he can stop himself. “Please,” he breathes. “Yes, please. I want you.”
Your smile is slow and razor-sharp, sending a shiver down his spine. Your sweet disposition laced with something dark and dangerous. Renjun realizes he’s never wanted you more.
And then finally you’re kissing him, hands on either side of his face, guiding him where you want him. Renjun follows the flow. His hands find your hips, urging you to grind against him in dizzying waves.
Your fangs graze his bottom lip, and he groans, licking into your mouth.
He catalogues every sensation, tastes the faint copper of his own blood still on your lips. It’s warm and dizzing all at once: the echo of danger, the trust that let him bare his throat to you, the raw pull between you neither of you can write off anymore.
Your hands skirt beneath the hem of his t-shirt, running over his toned stomach reverently before sliding over his pecs, your thumbs brushing his nipples. He shivers, tugs you closer, harder onto him.
You pepper kisses along his jaw, his throat, sucking dark marks into his skin, your fangs just barely poking through skin when you bite him. Renjun enjoys what little pain it gives him, delights in the small punishments you’re delivering.
You pull away suddenly to strip your jeans and panties. Renjun watches with rapt attention, hardly believing that this is his reality. It’s become less about having sex with a vampire, and more about having you. Watching you undress like this… He never wants to wake from this dream.
You get to work on his jeans and boxers, tugging them down just enough to reveal his cock, precum beading at the tip. Your mouth waters. He tries not to hide his face beneath his hand.
“You’re bigger than I thought you’d be,” you remark quietly, giving him a light pump.
The compliment sends proud warmth flooding through his chest, and he hides his smile with a pout of his lips and an annoyed huff of air to avoid falling apart at your small touch. “Just cuz I’m small doesn’t mean everything is small.”
You laugh, and pat his cheek. “Congratulations.”
He rolls his eyes, but pulls you in for another languid kiss that leaves his mind swimming when you pull away.
He sits back, stunned as you swing your leg over to straddle him. He short-circuits at the sight of your bare, wet pussy so close.
“Wait—can I… I wanna,” he mumbles incoherently and trails off, licking his lips.
“Use your words,” you tease, fingers sliding down to dive between your folds, gathering slick to rub gentle circles over your clit. Renjun can only stare, fingers twitching at his sides, mouth dropping open.
“I won’t let you touch me until you tell me what you want,” you command.
Determination hardens in his eyes, contrasting with the burning of his ears. He grips your thighs tightly. “I want to eat you out.”
You smirk. “Good boy.”
Renjun moves immediately, lifting you off of him. He drops to his knees on the floor, and tugs you to the edge of the couch, spreading your legs wide.
He’s somehow impossibly cute like this. His big, brown eyes staring up at you, waiting for permission. His plump lips parted, just begging to devour you.
You look regal above him like this. Your stare dark and frightening. He wants to be beneath you forever.
Your hand snakes behind his neck, fingers threading through his fluffy brown hair. “Go on,” you murmur. “Take what you want.”
He does.
He grips your thighs and moves in to press a kiss to your clit, delighting in the way you flinch the moment his mouth is on you.
And then he licks his tongue through your folds, groaning in pleasure at the taste. Your thighs clench around his head, something he’s realizing he likes.
A lot.
His hips rut against the couch as he devours you, thrusting his tongue inside you before sucking on your clit. You writhe above him, head thrown back against the cushions, your hand tangling in his hair.
He moans into you when you tug particularly hard, your cunt grinding against his nose, mouth, and chin.
“Fuck, Renjun,” you whine when he sinks two fingers inside you, pumping easily through the mess between your thighs.
His nose bumps your clit and you shudder harshly, cunt clenching deliciously around his fingers. You’re close, he can tell, and he smiles against you.
He pumps faster, sucks harder, and then you’re falling apart in his mouth, fingers tightening in his hair so much he fears you might pull some out. But then you collapse boneless against the couch, and he rises from his spot on the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Was I good?” He asks, though a smirk sits proudly on his face. He knows he did good. You’re looking up at him through hooded eyes, breasts heaving with the effort of catching your breath.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” you huff, pulling at his white tee.
He gets the hint and tugs it off, and his jeans and boxers while he’s at it.
You grab his wrist, pulling him in, and push him down on the couch, settling over him, thighs bracketing his hips.
His mind blanks when you grab his cock, sliding it through your folds, and lean down to capture his lips again.
And then you guide his cock into you and sink down, slowly, tortuously. He groans, brows screwing in pleasure as he watches himself fill you, your cheeks flushed and eyes rolling back. You’re so warm, so tight around him it makes his brain short circuit, his hands clutching your hips for dear life as your warmth engulfs him.
He can’t help the way his hips twitch up into you, fucking himself further inside you as you adjust to his length.
He feels you shudder, watches your eyelashes brush your cheek as you close your eyes, lip caught between your teeth. You look like a damn goddess.
“God, you’re so big, Junnie.”
His cock pulses at the praise, and he can see it in your face when you feel it. It only makes it harder for him to hold back.
When he’s fully sheathed inside you, you start the tortuous roll of your hips, lifting and falling back down with strong thighs.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, blood running hot in his veins. He rolls his hips, thrusting deep into you just as you sink back down, and you cry out, nails scratching against his chest.
He doesn’t mind. Actually likes it when you mark him up like this.
“B-bite me,” Renjun says, the words cracking on a moan when you roll your hips a certain way.
“What?” You stall your movements.
He whines pathetically. “Don’t stop.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say between breaths.
That’s the problem. He wants you to hurt him. Wants to give up control and let you take from him what you need.
“I don’t care,” he says, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you down to his throat. “Please.”
You hesitate for a moment, but then Renjun whimpers at your ear as he thrusts up into you, jostling you forward, your lips pressing firmly against his throat.
And he feels that sweet, sharp sting again, and his cock swells inside you, his head falling back against the arm of the couch.
“Fuck!” He moans, that ache intensifying into pleasure that feels ten times stronger than before with you tightening around his cock like this. “Yes, fuck yes.”
You moan against his throat, tongue laving along his skin and he bucks wildly into you.
“I’m close, baby,” he whines, and you clench harder around him, flooding him with euphoria through your fangs and pussy. “You’re so perfect. So good. So—“
His vision whites out, his hips stuttering as he comes, his one hand gripping your ass, the other tangling in your hair.
You ride him through it, your clit brushing against the hard planes of his pelvis, and soon you’re coming around him from the friction, fangs retracting so you can throw your head back on a silent scream.
You collapse on top of him, and he can’t help himself—he presses a kiss to your hair, and wraps his arms around you, though he feels weak.
Blood trails down his throat, pools in the hollow space between his collarbones, and heat stirs his cock when you drag your tongue along the crimson line, licking him clean.
“That was fun,” you pant, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
Renjun can only garble out some nonsense, and you laugh, stroking his hair back from his forehead with delicate fingers. He practically purrs, eyes falling shut when your nails brush his scalp.
“Feeling better?” He asks at last, peeking an eye open. He kneads the flesh of your thigh with his hand, appreciating how soft you are. How pretty you look.
“Much better, thank you, Junnie.”
He sighs, melting into the couch. “Now I’m tired.”
“Yeah, you lost a lot of blood. Let’s get you some water and food, hm?”
“Maybe later, wanna sleep now,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto his chest. You smile against his skin.
You’ll let him sleep for now.