KINKTOBER DAY 7: BLOOD PLAY
main masterlist navi kinktober masterlist
pairing. vampire!geum seongje / wolf keum x f!reader
syn. after months of holding himself back — your scent on his tongue, your heartbeat thumping in his ears — your vampire boyfriend, geum seongje, finally breaks.
an. i fear this may be the Peakest of peak i have ever written.. dear LORD vampire seongje Oh my god im not fucking normal at all about this i have been ITCHING to write vampire blood thirsty seongje like Twilight type shit. my two worlds collide #teamedward. the song playing in the bg while you fuck him??? oh dear..... 'it feels good to know you're mine' is so him hello.
cw. smut 18+ mdni blood play (like... your blood) blood drinking lollll oops piv marking, biting degradation praiiiiseee SQUIRTING. kind of inexperienced reader and freaked out seongje i dont know how u dont die from blood loss dont ask me that you bite him back LMAOO lmk if i missed anything afab reader! no beta we die like my pinky from holding my heavy ahh phone to write this shit seongje fat Cock believers rise up. mentions of god and the devil etc unprotected sex pls dont do this irl omg he cums inside.. ugh whats new with me semi public sex OOPS!!!!!
playing. be quiet and drive (far away) / change (in the house of flies) by deftones
seongje's been holding himself back.
he remembers the day he met you — nerves aflame, senses overwhelmed. his vision blurred at the edges, and his nose filled with a scent so intoxicating it made his throat burn. it wasn't perfume, wasn't annoyingly artificial and heavy like what most girls at ganghak wore.
it smelled sweet. a faint kind of sweet that he couldn't fucking take. his head was spinning, beginning to wonder just how he's missed it before.
the teacher’s voice barely cuts through the dull hum of the classroom — the scratch of chalk against the board, the soft shuffle of pages, the heavy air of disinterest. half the class is asleep, and geum seongje’s no different — except his head hangs low not from boredom, but from something else entirely. a bead of cold sweat slides down his temple, his jaw tight, like he’s just caught the scent of a five-course meal served fresh.
it doesn't take long for him to excuse himself to the bathroom.
footsteps uneven and unsteady, breath coming out in shallow bursts as that scent wraps around him, seeps into his lungs, takes him apart piece by piece. it’s maddening — sweet, warm, alive — and it pulls him forward like a leash. seongje doesn’t even know where he’s going anymore, only that he has to find the source. it’s instinct, pure and raw. he’s lucky the halls are empty, immensely fortunate no one’s around to see the cracks in his composure, the way he’s unraveling.
he'd never smelled anything like this. he thinks he'd have gone crazy if he had to. whoever it belonged to, he knew he wouldn’t have stopped at a single bite. no, he’d have sunk his fangs deep into their neck, drawn out every last drop until the body went still and cold, until the hunger inside him was quiet — if it ever could be.
when his palms slam against the heavy doors, the echo rings down the empty hall, followed by the rush of cold air that hits his face. seongje stumbles outside, chest heaving, that scent still tugging him forward. the path ahead stretches toward the open field and basketball courts — familiar, quiet, sun-warmed. to his right sits the old storage room, the one crammed with dusty basketballs and forgotten PE gear, its door cracked open just slightly — where the smell, that maddening, mouthwatering scent, is strongest.
he licks his lips, eyes bloodshot while sweat sticks to his skin; he knows, logically, he cannot eat here.
his lack of planning is clear when he runs forward, anyway. seongje's slender fingers pull the old door towards him, and he thinks if he applied any more force that it would've come right off it's hinges.
you were doing what no one else bothered to: keeping equipment after PE, like the responsible class monitor you always were. your arms ached, breath coming out in uneven pants as you dragged the heavy plastic boxes of badminton rackets into the corner of the dim storage room. you didn’t notice the door creak open behind you, didn’t feel the eyes burning holes into your back. your scent — your breath, your sweat, the faint trace of perfume clinging to your skin — hit him all at once. it was intoxicating, suffocating, too much. seongje’s hand flew to his nose and mouth, desperate to contain the hunger clawing its way up his throat.
when you turned around to look at him, he could only gulp hard.
you were beautiful. not in the way the most appetising meals usually were, but in that sickening, gut-twisting way that made him want to drop to his knees and beg whatever cruel god cursed him with this hunger. you looked too pure, too golden, too gentle to devour — like touching you would defile something holy. in his centuries of existence, geum seongje had never felt such a visceral need course through his veins; it only shows in the way he doesn't know what to do, eyes staying locked on yours as his cold body stills.
"oh," you smile back at geum seongje, your feet shoving the last box back into place. you sigh, dusting your hands on your sweat-stained shirt. your pretty lips are all he's thinking about — he thinks he'll have dreams about this, about how good you'd taste while you writhe underneath him and beg to be let go. "uh . . . do you need something? i was just packing up, sorry—"
you look at him with concern when he shakes his head, hand still clasped over his mouth and nose like he'd just smelled something foul. a little rude, but you can’t blame him for acting such a way after an hour under the sun.
“damn, do i smell that bad?” you giggle, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead — a simple, innocent gesture that makes his throat tighten. he bites the inside of his cheek, sharp eyes following every bead of sweat that rolls down your skin, glinting in the light, glistening like something meant to be tasted.
geum seongje is going mad.
he uses all his force to tear his hand away from his face, and you raise an eyebrow at how he's panting hard, like he'd just ran a marathon.
he speaks through uneven breaths. you wonder if he needs to sit down, drink some water, because he looked like he was about to have a heat stroke — but all geum seongje needs right now is you. a girl he'd never seen before at ganghak, but had to eat like it was his last meal.
"do you . . . need some water? i could get you some from the vending machine.”
but when he looks at you like this — eyes wide, cheeks flushed and hot from running laps, worry softening every feature — he almost forgets what he is. you’re concerned for a monster, and that alone twists something in his chest. you, with your gentle voice and unguarded heart, were far too kind for someone like him. too good, too human, and that made you all the more irresistible.
he finds your first meeting kind of ridiculous to recall, because his situation now is even crazier.
a few months down the line and geum seongje found himself harbouring feelings for a fucking human. his peers whispered, sneered, and na baekjin was the worst of them all — leaning back with that annoyingly smug look on his face that didn’t seem to show any real concern, sharp teeth flashing as he spoke: “you’re not gonna last a month with her.”
maybe seongje did it out of spite. maybe it was pride. but mostly it was because he’d fallen hard — far harder than he ever thought possible — for someone as gentle as you. someone who’d look at him without judgment. someone he trusted so much that, eventually, he told you what he really was: albeit under unfavourable circumstances which painted him in the most horrible, monstrous light.
still, you found the good in geum seongje — even when his mouth was full of blood, the scent of metal filling your nose and the sight of his bloody teeth and dark eyes making your stomach churn in anxiety.
it’s dark. cold. wet with the smell of cigarettes mixed with rain. the alleyway is tight and puddles of muddy water lay beneath your converse, light barely outlining your lover’s figure hunched over a stiff corpse.
after you take a cautious step forward, the sound of your damp soles against concrete makes his head snap toward you. seongje looks up, frozen — a deer caught in headlights. his eyes are wide, feral, hands fumbling to wipe the blood from his mouth like a child caught doing something he knows he shouldn’t.
the truth was that geum seongje was getting hungry — running out of bodies to feast on, running out of time before his restraint finally snapped. eventually, he started fearing the worst: that he might devour you. so he settled for the distance, convincing himself this was mercy. it was better this way, he told himself, better than having your body pale and blue because of him.
as monstrous as he is, he couldn’t hurt you. for months, he’s refused to kiss you, rejecting every advancement you’ve made to get just an inch closer to him. seongje was deathly afraid of snapping if he caught a whiff of anything more from you that wasn’t just sweat or perfume.
he wonders, sometimes, how he ever managed to get used to your scent at all, because he still remembers losing his mind that afternoon in the old storage room.
the best solution he had was to run far, far away from you. still, that didn't work very well — he always thought you were quite talented at locating him, more than he was with you.
"you didn't tell me anything," you sobbed, fists balling his shirt in your palms, tears streaming down your face as if it wouldn't stop anytime soon. "was i supposed to find out like this?"
seongje swallowed hard, throat dry with the taste of iron still lingering. the dim glow of the streetlight barely cut through the night, but it was enough — enough for him to see everything. the way your eyes refused to meet his. the tremor of your lips. the way your shoulders shook with every fractured breath. it hit him like a blade to the gut — the silence that stretched between you, the lies he’d once wrapped in good intentions now unraveling at his feet. and still, staring at you like this, he felt it deep in his chest: he hadn’t just lied. he’d sinned, again and again, until this moment arrived like judgment itself.
"i didn't want to hurt you."
hearing that broke you even more.
you grit your teeth. "is this why you've gotten so distant?"
that was true, unfortunately so, because if it were any other girl — this wouldn't be an issue. seongje would have been satiated a long time ago, belly full of blood that took almost no effort to get; he didn’t know why he’d thrown himself into this slow-burning torture, why he’d chosen to know you first, to touch your life before ever touching your skin. why he’d let himself fall for you, love you, only to deny himself the one thing he craved most. it was agony, and he had no one to blame but himself.
the cold air brushes against your skin and you’re shivering; geum seongje momentarily wonders how warm your blood must taste in comparison to the icy night air that fills his lungs — how it might soothe that constant burn crawling up his throat, how it might feel to finally taste something that wasn’t so lifeless, so stale. it’s a cruel thought, and he hates himself for it, but he can’t stop the way his fangs ache or how his eyes fixate on the soft pulse at the base of your neck.
seongje had begun to pull away, slowly — get up from the middle of the night from your bed, slipping his clothes on and disappearing swiftly into the night — he settles for scraps, blood from people who'd needed disappearing as ordered by na baekjin. you never knew about any of it. seongje would always brush your concerns off, stating that he had important union stuff to deal with; specifics never clarified.
the lie couldn't hold up once you found him that night. it was too late. in the back alleyway of geekstar internet café, geum seongje held a (now) cold neck to his mouth, slurping and sucking every last drop of blood.
"then take it from me," you breathe, beginning to undo the first two buttons of your blouse — you slip off the right side of your red blazer, symbolic of ganghak but now looking awfully similar to the liquid coursing through your veins. "please."
if seongje were human, he'd think his blood would have run cold. if any heart of his were still living, it’d been pounding, rattling against his old ribs.
seongje’s breath leaves him in a shaky exhale. the laugh that escapes is quiet, humourless — more broken than bitter.
“do you even know what you’re fucking asking for?” he mutters, voice rough, almost pleading for you to understand just how dangerous he was. that it wasn’t going to be a small nibble, a little trickle of blood; he knows himself too well for that. he’d sink his fangs deep, mouth open wide, jaw locked tight as he drives them into the crook of your neck until the warmth fills his throat and the world blurs into red.
“of course you don’t. never thinking straight—shit, you think you’re so smart.”
his hand twitches at his side, fingers curling into a trembling fist as he forces himself not to reach for you. the other brushes against the rough wall, nails digging into brick to ground himself, to keep the hunger at bay.
you don’t answer him. the sound of fabric rustling as you pull your sleeve down, your chest falling and rising at a worrying rate. seongje hears it all booming in his ears, and he licks his upper canines at the sounds. each movement is deliberate, like a dare, as you unbutton the red blazer symbolic of ganghak — it’s awfully ironic how similar it is in hue to blood. the air between you tightens, heavy with anxiety and something deeper that neither of you can name.
you bite the inside of your cheek. seongje watches you, chest tight, as if waiting for you to turn and walk away — in which case he tells himself he’d move neighbourhoods and erase the memory. “i’ll really fucking kill you, [name],” he hisses, half threat, half confession.
but you don’t step back. instead you close the distance in small, steady steps, the copper scent of iron thick in the air and prickling at the back of your throat. when you take his blood-slicked hand and press it to your neck, seongje’s knees nearly give out; the world narrows to the tremor of your pulse beneath his palm, the rustle of fabric, the shallow, frantic inhale that passes between you. his breath catches — part fear, part rapture — and for a beat the alley holds nothing but the two of you and the terrible, aching choice you both already know the answer to.
seongje looks at you like he’s coming undone, as if he’s being pulled apart at the seams of his being: back then, he wished for nothing to be a normal, human boy who could love you in every sense of the word — romantically, intimately, sensually. he prayed for the day he could have you underneath him without fearing himself. to hear your moans and nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing in the very essence of you — it seemed like a silly dream to him.
so when you breathe shakily, pretty lips parting just enough to whisper, “i want you to,” it’s like something in him snaps; the last thread of restraint tearing clean.
before you can even blink, seongje’s got your wrist in his grip, dragging you through the narrow alley and into the nearest bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you with a sound that thumps like a heartbeat he no longer has.
the faint hum of computer's buzzing and keyboard mashing on the other side of the door is drowned out by the filthy sounds of you and geum seongje's — who you recently discovered was a vampire —make out session, which soon escalates to said vampire popping all the buttons of your blouse in an attempt to rip it off.
you squeal when he lifts you by the hips, setting you on the cheap ikea counter that the owner didn't bother to replace years back — geum seongje remembers this cramped, dim bathroom from 50 years ago, when it nothing but an empty, abandoned building in the middle of an even emptier neighbourhood.
"fuck—" seongje groans, nose rubbing against your jaw as he licks stripes of the skin on your neck. "i can't—shit, you smell so fucking good."
"i . . . want you," you mewl, ticklish from his rough tongue which still had someone else's blood on it. he smelled horrible, like he'd just been in an operating room where blood sprayed all over his body. "i want all of you, geum."
he's starving. he's incredibly hard, too, and you know this because the tent in his pants is pressing against your inner thigh like it has nowhere else to go. you bite your bottom lip so hard that the skin breaks, and your own blood begins to meet your tongue.
his breathing hitches as soon as it happens, the hair on his neck standing. he parts from your neck, half lidded gaze locked on your lips which were bitten raw and smeared with your blood.
seongje almost fucking whimpers at the sight.
“tell me no,” he growls, words scraping against his throat like he’s choking on them. his hand trembles where it holds your jaw, thumb dragging across your pulse that beats so sweetly under his skin. “tell me to stop.”
his breath fans hot against your neck, fangs just barely grazing the surface — a threat, a promise. you look up at him through your lashes, lips parted, trembling but certain. “i don’t want you to.”
that's all it takes for geum seongje to slam his lips against yours, tongue lapping at every drop of blood that trickles from the broken skin.
you feel teeth clash, and you're locked under his touch that undoes every button on your blouse. seongje stands steadily between your parted legs, red blazer thrown somewhere onto the floor — he's still wearing his, but you suspect with the way that this is going... it's coming off in sub 5.
"so good—tastes so fucking good, baby," seongje moans between open mouthed kisses, savouring the flavour of your saliva and blood mixed together; he'd never had you this way, never gotten this close. "i need more, i need you."
he bites down on your bottom lip, sharp teeth sinking just enough to draw a bead of blood. the sting makes you jolt, a quiet sound escaping your throat before his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your jaw with practiced ease. his grip is firm, possessive — a warning dressed as tenderness.
seongje always settled for holding your hand, innocent touches that needed barely any skin. even then, he had to scrub himself clean from your scent as soon as he got home — so as to not torture himself.
his mind is hazy, that familiar feeling of nerves being on fire returning to him. seongje almost faints with how overstimulated he is from sheer pleasure, that little amount of blood drawn from your lips teasing him so fucking well. he almost rolls his eyes back when you press harder against him, your hands moving quickly to wrap around his neck; he pulls away from the kiss, a red string of saliva being the only thing that connects the two of you.
"s-seongje. . ." you whine, wanting to close the gap, but he remains unresponsive.
sweat clings to seongje’s forehead, the flickering bathroom light casting him in a feverish glow — lips parted, tongue dragging slow across blood-stained teeth. he looks at you like a starving man, gaze heavy and delirious, locked on the frantic pulse in your neck. every shallow breath he takes trembles with restraint, as if he’s holding himself back from tearing you open just to see how deep your warmth runs.
once he gets a taste, he’s not sure how he’ll stop himself. even if he somehow does, he already knows he’ll never move on from this — from you. there will be no blood that could ever compare, no pulse that could ever sing the way yours does beneath his touch.
you are his greatest love, his sweetest sin. the most exquisite meal he’ll have the misfortune of craving forever.
seongje's kicked out of his daydream when your hand reaches for the back of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his brown locks. he winces, but does nothing to fight back.
you pull him closer, his nose now barely grazing your neck.
you smell strongest here. he can hear it — the rush of blood through your arteries, your heartbeat loud and steady like a siren’s call. it fills his nose, his head, his every thought, until something inside him gives way. every fragile thread of restraint snaps all at once. seongje’s eyes flutter shut as he presses his nose deeper into your skin, breathing you in like salvation — like you were a divine offering sent down to forgive him for all his sins.
geum seongje knew you were just temptation; but he also knew that he was falling for it.
you shake from the contact, feeling geum seongje's tongue beginning to lick stripes of the skin on your neck — it feels cold, and you feel the occasional graze of teeth that you know seongje's trying hard to fight.
his cock is twitching at the mere thought of tasting you already.
you feel a shaky exhale of cold air against your clavicle — it ghosts over your skin before vanishing, replaced by the sudden stillness that makes your pulse sound deafening in your own ears. seongje pulls his head back, eyes dark and wild, the faint light catching on the sharp curve of his teeth.
you mutter, shyly. the command doesn't match your demeanour as you say: "bite."
geum seongje's head snaps forward, fast and brutal, fangs tearing through the soft flesh of your neck. the impact knocks the air out of your lungs; pain blooms, hot and dizzying, before it’s swallowed by the pull of his mouth. blood floods into him, thick and sweet, spilling past his lips as a low, guttural sound rumbles in his throat.
you feel his teeth sink deeper, inch by inch. your heart beats wildly, knowing that your lover could probably feel every pound, every thump against his mouth and tongue. he moans against your skin, tongue lapping around the two puncture wounds now permanently tattooed on your body — a symbol of your devotion to a monster like geum seongje.
it only makes him harder.
your hand flies to your mouth, desperate to smother the scream clawing its way up your throat — but geum seongje’s quicker, his palm covering yours, pressing it harder against your lips. his touch is trembling, almost tender, but his fangs are buried too deep for mercy to matter. tears spill down your cheeks, blurring your vision until the world is nothing but heat and pain and the sound of him drinking like he’s starving — like he’s been waiting for this all his life.
"tastes so good," seongje speaks against you, slurping and sucking at every drop he can get his sharp tongue on. "so damn sweet."
the way seongje is desperately pressing his body closer to you, nose taking in as much of your air as possible while his mouth worked against your skin; it stirs something deep inside your core, a twisted fantasy you felt awakening — his hands are everywhere — gripping, clawing, trembling. your chest pressed flush against his, and he lets out a muffled moan. the line between sin and salvation blurs completely, and geum seongje sinks into it like it’s the only truth left in the world.
"it hurts, seongje, fuck—" your speech is muffled against his palm, and he retracts his head to look into your eyes. his irises are nothing but dark, tinted with a kind of red that made you shake.
he pulls his hand away, and he almost falls to his knees when you speak again in that loving, concerned voice of yours. "you're too rough."
blood runs down your clavicle in thin lines.
he's staring at you like he’s been struck, torn between the ache of hunger and the guilt clawing at his chest. his blood-slick lips part, trembling as he exhales.
the warmth spreads through him, pooling in his stomach, coursing down his oesophagus like fire and ice intertwined; geum seongje slips entirely from the boy you knew, every trace of restraint gone, leaving only the monster he spent so long trying to keep buried.
"i'll make it feel good, baby," seongje's licks his lips, using his fingers to pinch the bridge of his glasses before he chucks it towards the empty space on the counter. "don't worry your pretty head about it."
you're not very sure what he means by that.
you sniffle when seongje uses a finger to swipe the blood running down your skin, before he pops it into his mouth. he sucks his finger clean before he pulls it out of his mouth, a pop! sound echoing through the cramped room.
seongje looks at you like he hasn't had enough — because he hasn't. the blood isn't enough. no, he needs more of you.
his bloody fingers trail down your waist, eventually tracing your inner thigh — they inch closer to your entrance, and you feel his cold fingertip hook the thin fabric of your panties. your breath hitches at the breeze of cold air that brushes against your bare skin.
his digits trace your folds, faux gentleness evident; you know he's just holding himself back.
"can't tell if you're wet or if it's just the blood," seongje smirks, head leaning in to close the gap between your neck and his mouth. he breathes against your skin, cold breath fanning against the open wound. you grit your teeth from the mix of pain and pleasure, the former pulsating from your neck and coursing through your veins, while the latter originates right from the core of your body.
you don't know which one makes you lean into geum seongje — the fact that he's teasing you with his fingers, or the fact that the pain he caused feels so fucking good.
seongje sinks his teeth into your flesh again, his middle finger pressing firmly against your clit as if to distract you from how he loud he sucks at your skin like it was primal instinct.
you whimper and squirm at the action, but his fangs remind you to stay still. "s-seongje, o-oh my god—"
"feeling better?" he jeers, tongue running over the wounds. he savours the sweetness, closes his eyes like he's in heaven. "still hurt, baby?"
"y-yeah, fuuuck. . ." you whine, his middle finger rubbing slow, sensual circles around the bud as he continues to drink his meal. you feel the force of suction on your neck, but the sheer pleasure from seongje's fingers on you almost causes your vision to go white. "need more — it hurts too much, seongje—"
"think i need more, too," seongje interrupts your babbling, voice low and ragged — the words drag out between heavy breaths. he pulls back from your neck, lips and chin slick with red, tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you as if he can’t bear to waste a single drop. he wants to feel your lips tremble when he finally puts his fingers inside of you, whimpering against his; he thinks it must feel better than drinking you.
seongje tastes like copper and iron — metallic and raw — reminding you of that time you’d held a coin in your mouth back in grade school, curious about what it tasted like. his lips fit perfectly against yours, like some kind of cruel, ironic fate. when your teeth clash with his, it’s messy, desperate: tongues collide again, the taste of blood shared between you until you can’t tell where you end and he begins.
"i’ll make you. . ." he murmurs between kisses, each one hotter, needier than the last — "feel good. . ." another kiss, wet and trembling against your lips, ". . .till it won’t hurt anymore."
his voice breaks at the end, breath ghosting over your mouth like a promise he’s too far gone to keep.
his fingers push into you slowly — your slick coats his fingers in sticky layers — the squelching of your cunt making his stomach grumble, as if he hadn't just tasted your life with his tongue and teeth.
his hunger has yet to be satiated.
you gasp softly, mouth hung as his long digits reach impossibly deeper. seongje watches your expressions with an amused look painted on his face, eyes not knowing where to stay — your neck, which was bled slowly, or your sweet cunt which sucked him in like it couldn't get enough. your eyes flutter shut as you wrap one arm around his neck, clinging onto him as if he wasn't the reason for your pain.
seongje's mouth latches onto your neck once again, fingers working simultaneously to pump in and out of you with sharp precision. he’s never done anything like this with you before — for good reason — but somehow, his hands move like they already know every inch of you. as if he could predict every shiver of your body, every moan that would come out from your mouth if he'd just move his fingers here and there.
perhaps, in some twisted way, you already belong to him. he’s marked you in ways no one else ever could, claimed you with a bite that runs deeper than skin, into your very being. he runs through your veins, and your soft whimpers fill his.
"don't know how i lived without you," seongje mumbles. a sharp pain sends jolts through your body, and seongje feels you writhe in response. "be good for me, baby — doing so good."
you whimper at the praise, trying your very best to keep still as seongje's slow drag of fingers send you into overdrive. the room feels hot and sweat is clinging to your skin; his fingers feel so impossibly long and delicious, hitting every spot that made you see a new star.
"feels s-so good, seongje," you breathe shakily, head tipping back until your nose points to the ceiling. seongje smiles against your skin, lips wet with the mess he’s made — blood smearing across your neck as his tongue drags along the wound, tasting every drop like he’s worshipping it.
"squeezing me so tight," seongje mocks, and he wonders momentarily if he should've done this earlier; he's got his teeth deep into you, and you still rut against his fingers like you need more. "you like this?"
perhaps being a vampire wasn't as much of a curse to your relationship as he thought it would be.
"mmmhm, love it, i love you," the words slip from your tongue, too fast for your own brain to register. you don't even think, can't even talk properly with the way he fingers you like he's done it millions of times before.
your hips move on their own. his fingers curl so sickeningly good as he continued his meal — the pain has faded, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your brain only registers how good geum seongje was making you feel.
"such a good slut for me," seongje whispers, loud enough for you to hear but not to care. "should reward you for this, huh?"
you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, cunt squeezing around nothing. seongje looks up at you through messy hair that hides his still ravenous gaze, eyes focusing on how your lips quiver.
he unzips his pants, eye contact unbroken as he slips his pants off — it falls to the floor, pooling at his ankles. seongje's thumbs hook onto his briefs, pulling them downwards in one swift motion, lips curving into a maddening smile that only makes you leak.
he leans into you, lips meeting — the kiss is much slower, gentler. seongje feels like he's on fire, like his skin is warm for the first time in centuries, heat blooming from his abdomen and spreading all over his body.
seongje pulls away again to get a better view, head hanging low. he aligns his swollen tip with your entrance, tapping a few times just for the sake of teasing — you wiggle your hips, and he sucks his teeth at the impatience — eyebrows knit together in frustration as his gaze darts from where you two are soon to meet and where your cute face stares in anticipation.
"shiiit. . . " seongje exhales shakily, hips stilling before he pushes himself in. the stretch almost knocks you out cold — he's long, thick, and each vein prods at your walls like they begged to be remembered; his jaw drops slightly, lips parted as a low moan leaves his throat. "o-oh, fuck. . ."
your walls squeeze him so tight. so warm, inviting, wet, the smell of your slick almost as good as the blood on his hands.
"'s too big, seongje," you sniffle, arms clawing at his shoulders like it was the only thing keeping you steady. "i can't, i can't—"
he presses kisses to your jaw, then your ear, before biting down on the cartilage — you almost fucking cum on the spot from the feeling of pain radiating from the new wound, mixed with seongje's cock splitting you open.
you hear every measured breath he takes, each one heavier than the last; his tongue traces the thin trail of blood that’s dripped down to your earlobe, lapping at it with slow, deliberate strokes. it tickles — almost tender — but the bruising grip he keeps on your waist reminds you just how easily he could crush you if he wanted to.
he sinks his length into you agonizingly slow — a cruel mercy to get you used to his size, and it almost feels worse than the pain itself with how it reminds you that this is the only solace he can offer.
"s-seongje, please," you whimper as his tip kisses your cervix, "need you—hurts too much."
seongje sinks his fangs into your ear once again, before retracting his hips — you whine at the emptiness, before he slams his hips into you like he'd lost all restraint.
"o-oh my god," you moan shamelessly, completely disregarding where you two were. for now, it felt like you were alone with him. the noises of students clicking keyboards, footsteps of people leaving and entering the establishment. none of it mattered anymore while geum seongje had his teeth in you while his dick stretched you out.
"dirty girl," his breath tickles the shell of your ear, his voice sending chills down your spine. you feel blood run down the side of your jaw, to your neck, and seongje laps it all up. "you love the pain? like when i. . ." he licks a long line right next to your tragus, "fuck you like this?"
seongje's snapping his hips into you at a brutal rate, his ears picking up every pulse thrumming through your body. seongje is so, so fucking grateful for his amazing hearing — he catches every soft whimper and cute moan that his cock pulls from you, the faint sound of your heart beating in the background; he can't decide which one resembles heaven the closest.
"of course you do," seongje confirms when he takes a moment to register just how wet you really are, feels like your pussy is talking back to him; your slick and his precum mix, squelching sounds echoing through the room. they're comparably less loud when he hears how you moan his name.
you can barely string together words, breath hitching as his name falls from your lips again and again — a broken prayer, a plea, a promise of devotion. seongje thinks the blood from your ear isn’t nearly as sweet as the taste of your neck, but it’s softer, less cruel, and perhaps that’s why he lingers there. this is his way of atonement — a desperate, pathetic attempt to make something so unholy hurt a little less for you.
you cling onto him as he sucks, fangs fully puncturing the flat of your ear. you cry in response to the immediate, throbbing pain that follows, before seongje angles his hips just right to fuck you stupid enough to see stars dancing.
"so good, seongje," you bite down on your lip instinctively, tasting the faint metallic tang from the cut he’d left there earlier — the memory of that first kiss reborn on your tongue. the moment the scent of your blood hits him, his head jerks up, eyes dark and wild. it’s instinct, not thought, when he crashes his mouth against yours, the kiss messy and desperate. you melt into it, into him, all tongue and blood and saliva.
he moans into your mouth as his hips rut into you, abs flexing with each movement. seongje tries to fight every part of himself that screams for more. the gnawing hunger is scraping at his ribs and threatening to tear him open; he wants to drain you dry, spurred on only by every sound you make and every whiff of sex his nose catches.
"pussy so wet for me," seongje mutters, forehead pressed against yours. "all mine, forever."
you can't think. your mind is filled with the smell of blood, how you've probably lost so much of it already. you pity your heart, your flesh, things you've so readily offered to geum seongje on a silver platter, but somehow don't, can't regret.
his strokes are rough and romantic, clearly proof of how needy he was — even now, with his cock deep inside of you and your blood on his hands, he's nothing but an animal putting his own needs first.
a warm feeling blooms in your abdomen, and it coincidentally earns a moan from your lover. "you're close," seongje's breath ghosts over your lips, and you're truly stunned at how you don't even realise how close you are until he acknowledges so. "gonna cum all over this fucking dick? yeah? all yours, baby—"
you throw your head back at his words. it's too much for you to handle, every thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs — seongje’s quick to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck, tongue dragging flat against your skin, right over your jugular where your pulse beats frantically beneath him. every breath he takes shudders against you, shaky and uneven.
"i'm gonna cum, seongje, fuuuck—!"
his cock twitches inside of you, and you swear it swells bigger with every passing second. the room is filled with nothing but a cacophony of moans, wet slapping of skin and desperate, hungry slurps of blood. the build-up isn't slow for you, every coil in your stomach tightening at a frightening speed; the nights where you touched yourself to imaginations of seongje could never compare to being stuffed full like this.
seongje's hand holds your neck still, the other pinning your hips down to the counter. his pace starts to falter, hips stuttering as he fights his premature orgasm — the least he could do was for you to cum first.
"cum for me, baby," he commands. his voice is low and sends vibrations that pulse throughout your body, and it sends you over the edge. "cum all over me."
every thought you have is wiped from your mind, vision going white with a deafening ring in your ears. you gush all over him, body spasming underneath his touch, screaming silently with your jaw hung.
"o-oooh shit. . . fuck," seongje's eyes almost roll to the back of his skull when he feels you squeeze him so tight, he could mistake your cunt for a vacuum. his head hangs low, eyes locked on how your juices continue to coat the base of his dick. he continues to fuck himself into you, albeit slower, and you watch his eyes through wet lashes. "gonna cum inside t-this perfect cunt, [name],"
you swear he has hearts in his eyes. they're red, completely red now — your orgasm lasts excruciatingly and embarrassingly long, though geum seongje pays no mind with the way you squeeze him for everything he's got, all while you cover him in the sweetest liquid he's ever smelled.
this definitely beats the blood.
"sooo fucking perfect." seongje runs his tongue over his fangs, but he's convinced he'll have to taste both to see which really fares best.
you moan with each stroke, the sounds of his hips meeting yours now louder by tenfold, all thanks to the extra lubrication. it's messy, needy, rough, haphazard — every word in the dictionary combined couldn't describe geum seongje's pace, groans slipping past his lips as he pounds your cunt like he wants to make a family.
"s-seongje—" you cling onto him, closing the gap between you. your arms find their way around his neck, and you feel humiliated with how fast you feel that build-up in your stomach again: if you could look at seongje, you're sure he'd have a sickening smirk painted on his face. "slow down, o-oh my god,"
"can't," he responds matter-of-factly, "fuck, gonna fill you up and make you mine, [name]."
your teeth sink into his skin, his blood beginning to bead beneath your lips. his eyes go wide, a mix of shock and something darker flickering behind them, like the line between pain and pleasure had just blurred beyond recognition. seongje almost cums, embarrassed at how it makes his cock twitch so fucking hard — your small, pathetic human teeth that were incapable of sinking as deep as his but still trying anyway — it's making him go mad.
"cum inside of me," you whisper devilishly into his ear, and he can hear how you lick your teeth clean; a mocking portrayal of him which flips every switch in his brain. "want it so bad, seongje."
he slams his hips into you one last time. a harsh thrust sends him over the edge and you feel impossibly warm, seongje's cum filling you to the brim. you muffle your scream by driving your teeth further into his muscles, which tense under your bite. he moans lewdly as he stills inside of you, head hanging low as he tries not to fall to his knees.
"o-oh fuck," seongje sucks in air through his teeth, panting as his lungs try to even his breathing. "oh my god."
a few beats pass in silence, your cheek now resting against his shoulder as your nose nuzzles against his neck. he breathes heavily, cock still plugging you closed. his grip tightens, fingers digging into your sides like he’s trying to anchor himself to reality — to you. his chest rises and falls in uneven rhythm, the sound of his breathing loud against your ear. when he exhales, it trembles. he’s holding you as if the smallest movement might shatter the moment, or worse, make you disappear.
when you lift your head from his shoulder, his eyes meet yours — brown again, soft and dazed, like he’s only just come back to himself. he looks wrecked, lips glossy with blood and saliva. the sight makes your heart pound.
seongje tilts his head slightly, gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth, and for a moment, he looks at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to what’s left of his humanity. he leans in close, fingers gripping your frame, lips greeting yours in a way that speaks gentleness.
"i love you," he breathes between soft, lingering kisses — the tenderness of it all feels almost foreign after everything that’s happened, and it makes your heart do backflips. for just a second, you catch a glimpse of the seongje you fell for months ago — the one who smiled at you in the halls, who brushed your hair from your face like you were something delicate. "you’re mine," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, fangs grazing your skin again. "forever."
“i love you too, geum seongje,” you whisper, cheeks flushed with a delicate innocence that somehow makes the danger in front of you seem so much softer. “all of you.”
he’s not sure if you’re an angel sent by god or temptation delivered by the devil.
either way, he’ll take damnation or forgiveness — whatever it costs, so long as it's you.
yall icb i wrote this in 2 damn days what the fawkkkkk... can't tell if this is peak or if it's meh... either way poured my heart n soul into this so the baekjin fic might come late #lmfao Sorry....😵💫
please rb if u enjoyed! thank u :)
sha's kinktober taglist — @seongjed @cakeforwonu @geumseongjeswife67 @pobbb00 @hexzil @ollieoven (idk why i cant tag u im so sorry..) @ruruyinnsdiary @3defscurls
