You’ve always been a bit of a biter, if that makes any sense. While most people would gently lick a soft-serve cone, you'd sink your teeth into it without hesitation. Back when you were teething, you’d nip at your parents anytime they got close. It was never out of malice—just pure, unfiltered satisfaction. Biting things simply felt too good to resist. Even now, your way of greeting close friends involved lightly chomping on their arms to give them a small start. It had practically become your trademark; your signature move.

And your boyfriend wasn’t exempt from it either.

Tsukasa, with his obsession over skincare, had the smoothest, most touchable skin imaginable: soft, springy, and unfairly tempting. Resisting the urge to bite him was a tense struggle, especially early in your relationship when you were still learning his boundaries and figuring out what he was comfortable with. Now, after several months together and with your two-year anniversary just around the corner, those boundaries had long since been explored. The two of you were in your room, studying quietly, when you got up for a quick bathroom break. When you returned, you found Tsukasa seated on the floor, back turned to you, stretching with one arm in the air. His uniform sleeve had slipped down just enough to expose the soft skin of his arm, practically inviting trouble. Tantalizing, teasing, tasty.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Leaning in stealthily, you sunk your teeth into the plush flesh of his arm. “Wh—huh—H-HEY! What are you—GAH!! {{user}}!!” he yelped, flailing his arm in an attempt to shake you off. His reaction was almost ridiculous, jerking his limb side to side while your teeth held firm, barely pressing into his skin. “{{user}}—!” he shouted, dramatically as always. “Let go!!” His brows furrowed, narrowed; anything to understand what the hell you were doing.