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strayed-quokka · 1 year

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lifeblood || ji changmin

» summary: your blood was sweet, you were sweet, and changmin is addicted.

» pairing: ji changmin x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors do not interact

» genre: supernatural, just porn tbh, smut, vampires

» warnings: oral (f recieving), fingering, i guess blood play (according to google it counts), changmin thinks your blood is sweet (yes we went there), biting, scratching, bruising, changmin can be scary in theory but also takes care of you, rough(ish) sex, aftercare, big dick changmin because that is my brand, one use of good girl, sweet names, creampie, brief loss of conciousness if you really look, implied feelings if you squint, oh and he’s pretty fucking strong

» words: 3,296

» a/n: LISTEN I have no excuse, this is filth, it is a mess, roar changmin is to blame. And I wanna just warn that if you have any issues with blood drinking just don’t read it I warned you now PFFF. Like… it’s not for everyone and I get it. But don’t come at me for it if you proceed anyway cause changmin is a vampire and acts accordingly so yeah that is all thank q.

The stories you’d been told when you were younger should’ve maybe deterred you from letting the night time bleed into your window, casting dark shadows along with the moon that illuminated through the sheer curtains. You were always told to be vary, to be afraid of the creatures that roamed in the dark.

The ones that watched you when you’d turn around, the ones who’s bright yellow eyes were a threat, and even more so when they illuminated red.

So why you were letting one spread your bare legs now was beyond you.

Changmin had been an intriguing mystery to you since you met. He seemed sweet, with dimples that charmed you and eyes that seemed so inviting, but when that smile dropped and he became hungry, everything changed.

He could be scary, downright terrifying even, if he wanted to be. His threats that he made were real, always, and his anger was not easy to contain if he released it. Though despite all that, he possessed a hold on you so tight that every time he asked to be invited into your house, you said yes.

It was your own fault. When you’d first met, it was at a gas station and you’d managed to cut your finger somehow on the clip you press down to fill up your car's gas, and almost within seconds, Changmin was behind you.

You should be careful.

He was warning you. Told you that your blood smelled so sweet, it may attract attention from people that would hurt you to get a taste. By the time you’d agreed to let him keep you company to protect you, it was already too late to realise that there was no way he could smell it.

Unless he was one too.

Once you did realise, he simply looked down at you and grinned, almost wicked, as if he knew he was caught but didn’t have any shame. Though despite all that, despite his hunger for you in particular, he had never made you feel like you needed to run away.

And maybe that’s why you were foolish enough to let him stay around, to lick off the wound on your thumb that night and to come around every now and then to try it again. It was an addicting thrill, one that nearly made you feel high, to risk your life in his hands more and more every time.

You were covered in healing puncture wounds from his fangs at various stages, hidden mostly though he’d been particularly careless the other day on your neck, bitten too high and now you were stuck in sweaters far too warm for the weather. He’d check on it occasionally, made sure none of your wounds ever got infected. You’d agreed for him to feed off you, but he had made it clear that he’d always check that you were healing as a compromise to you letting him.

The way he always checked on you was one of the reasons that you were able to calm down, to tell your body that you were safe, despite the sharp pain you’d feel, followed by that same thrilling high.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he’s looking down at you, his chest bare, your ankles over his shoulders as he caresses your legs. You were left in your lace underwear that you’d learned he liked in particular and a tight cropped shirt that was doing nothing to hide your erect nipples.

“Tell me more,” you demand, and Changmin may be annoyed by your insistent attitude if it weren’t for how you were begging the words out with light breaths. He grins instead, turns to the side to kiss your leg before retracting his fangs, letting the point that’s sharper than a blade just scratch the surface of your skin.

It almost tickles, making you squirm.

“Hmmm, I could,” he starts, then leans down to hover over your chest, staring straight into your eyes with ones that are a sharp yellow, “or I could show you?”

You say yes before he’s barely finished speaking, and he knows he has you right where he wants you as he goes to take your shirt off, leaving you in just your panties, ones that are clinging to you with the dampness between your legs.

He’s rather harsh in spreading your legs apart, pushing your left thigh to the side and pressing it into the mattress. The flimsy fabric slips between your folds, revealing part of your drenched cunt to his hungry eyes and you almost don’t notice how quickly he’s sunken down to lie with his head near your thigh, arms under your upper thigh before they circle up to grip your waist.

“Baby,” it’s almost condescending, the tone he uses to speak to you, but there’s something about the draw of his voice that has any ability to bite back, fall to the back of your throat, “I’ve barely touched you.”

You know what he’s talking about. You’re so aroused by his mere presence, that the barely there touches are enough to make you wet. He could do the bare minimum and it would likely still turn you on. Changmin was just… different. Hard to explain, but he was beautiful and calculating, and he’d somehow managed to figure you out in such a short span of time that he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

“Touch me then,” it’s the only real demand you manage to make, but even then it sounds weak, strained in your throat though he seems to take to the request. You feel the way he hooks two of his fingers by the lace covering your modesty (barely), pushing the fabric to one side before his tongue lays flat between your folds.

The sudden feel of him between your legs has you jolt upwards in surprise, but it makes him eager to keep going. He doesn’t need to be slow with you, can be, but doesn’t have to, and that’s one thing he really likes about you.

“Cute,” he chuckles, and you know he’s looking at you like you’re easily breakable, and honestly, with him you may as well be. You’d always considered your control to be excellent and your reserve strong, but he had you weak. It was near pathetic.

He lays a kiss right over your clit before lightly releasing a breath over the bundle of nerves. The cool sensation makes you whimper, and he gives you no warning when he grabs your hips tighter with his hands, forcing your body up just slightly off your mattress, before his tongue pushes inside you.

“Fuck, Min!” he doesn’t answer, too wrapped up in you, the way you taste and how your body responds to his mouth, to even begin to speak back. Your voice has gone from quiet to a pathetic mess of moans and soft pants, the occasional call of his name that only makes him go faster.

You feel one of his hands slip away from your waist, and you’re about to complain about how cold the bone of your hip feels without his touch, but the thought is erased when his middle finger replaces his tongue inside you, his mouth moving back up between your drenched folds to twirl a pattern around your clit again just as he curls his finger.

You’re going insane.

“Y-yes… more. P-please,” and Changmin won’t deny you when you look this pretty under him, but he also has his own needs to take care of, and the heightened scent of you and your arousal has him desperately needing to taste.

“I- I want… need to taste you,” and it’s when you connect with his eyes that you know he means something else.

That’s another thing about Changmin. No matter how strong his urges are, he’s never once failed to ask you first if it’s okay.

Though it would be difficult at this point to find an instance where you’d deny him the taste of you.

You feel your orgasm build, your head rolling back as soon as you tell him yes, that he can do what he wants, and he quickens his pace to push you right over the edge.

He doesn’t say anything to you, not that he could anyway when his mouth is preoccupied, but he does find the time to slip another two fingers inside you and you know you’re about to come undone. Changmin knows it too, feels it in how you tighten around his fingers and how your thighs press into the side of his head like you could crush him.

Honestly, Changmin finds you so incredibly sexy when you lose your mind.

It’s when you’re just mere seconds away from orgasm that he quickly replaces his tongue with his other free hand, his thumb over your clit instead, and it might’ve delayed your orgasm, made you mewl and plead and ask why, but that never comes.

The sharp pain of his fangs in your thigh mixed in with the pleasure of his fingers brings you over the edge completely, arching off the bed and screaming his name so loud that you’re relieved you live alone. You nearly want to cry from how good it feels, barely comprehending the sensation of him draining you off the sweet crimson liquid that keeps you alive, his fingers still curled inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

He groans, and it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. Changmin overall, is incredibly sexy, and he loves to remind you like this. You grip his hair with the strength you have left, chest moving rapidly as you tug, trying to pull him away from your thigh.

Changmin complies. Even if his instincts tell him he doesn’t want to, that he could drain you completely and wants to, he also knows that when you pull him away, he’s going to obey.

It’s the only thing Changmin lets you control, mostly because he knows you do it when it’s too much, when it either hurts past pleasure (though that’s exceedingly rare), or you’re becoming dazed and lightheaded to the point of it being dangerous. That’s why he listens, even if his entire being tells him not to.

His eyes are stained red now, dark and haunting, like they are every time he consumes you, and you swear his gaze is so intense that it demands your body to move regardless of your own mind. You’ve turned around on the bed before he even asks, though he’s the one to forcibly push your knees further apart, your ass up while your face rests against the pillows.

“You’re eager, god,” you nod desperately, though you’re not sure he even notices, “you want me to fuck you like this?”

You try to speak. You really, honestly try, but no sound comes out. Not until you feel a sharp slap to your ass that nearly pushes your whole body forward, “Yes! Please, y-yes.”

“Good girl,” you can feel him press his body against you, his cock bare against your folds and it makes you mewl, pushing against him. He has the nerve to laugh at you, leaning down so his chest hovers over your back as he whispers in your ear, “does your leg hurt?”

You’d honestly been so out of it that you’d forgotten, though this serves as a reminder of the sting on your left upper thigh. It does hurt, but not nearly enough for you to care.

“I’m okay,” and you say it with the most conviction, your heart warming just enough that it might scare you to what the implications of your feelings may mean. He doesn’t ask for anything else, though he’s always cautious anyway, in case anything shifts in your tone that implies that you’re not okay.

Changmin may have fucked you quite a number of times by now, and whilst you may have gotten used to his presence in the bedroom, it somehow still surprised you when his cock would bury itself inside you. Because no matter how often you found yourself like this, you were still naive enough to believe that he must be fully inside you when he’d really only come a little over halfway.

And every time, without fail, the realisation that he was going deeper made you whimper his name in a way that sounded like a musical note to his ears. It was beautiful, to see you so out of it when he’d barely done anything that required effort.

He stays like this for a while, cock inside you fully while your walls constrict around him, making him hiss as he’s gripping your waist with his fingers, kneading the flesh so hard it may definitely bruise as he steadies you, and you want to tell him to move, that you need him to.

Though he knows. He knows to replace his inaction with too much, because it sends you into overdrive and he loves to see you fall apart like this. Changmin is fast, unnaturally so which makes sense given who he is, but it’s the way in which he slams his hips into you that would make you collapse if he wasn’t keeping you up.

“Oh fuck! F-fuck… M-Minnie. Harder!”

“Think you can… can take that?”

He loves to tease you, push you to limits that a human shouldn’t be pushed too, but you want it and he won’t deny you.

“Y-yes. Please, Min,” his one arm goes around your chest, lifting you up against his own, your back arched while he quickens his pace, and he’s so aggressive that it may bruise both his own hips and your ass as a result, but you don’t care.

“Wish you could s-see what you look like,” he’s trembling, nibbling on your ear before he’s gently biting into your shoulder, just sharp enough to feel but not enough to cause injury, something which takes a level of self control that he’s spent decades trying to master. You grip the arm he has around your chest with your fingers, clawing at his forearm and flesh to hold onto just as he brings his free hand to your clit, “beautiful.”

Changmin is a master at making you fall apart. The way he slams into you is animalistic, brutal even, in ways you always wished to experience when past partners just didn’t do enough, and it’s the way he shows care to you whilst treating you like a ragdoll that ultimately makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck-” he groans, forehead falling to your shoulder, “you’re clenching.”

You know what that means. You know that aside from you being so close to an orgasm, it means that he’s going crazy from how your walls feel constricting around his cock and that he wants you to come.

“B-bite me. P-please C-Changmin,” he doesn’t see sense anymore when you ask like that. He releases a deep growl, near possessive of you, his teeth digging into the flesh between where your neck meets your shoulder, the arm that was around your chest further up by your shoulder blades now as the other wraps around your stomach, firmly gripping you in place as he slams his cock into you one more time, your orgasm so intense that you swear you nearly see absolute darkness for just a second when you reopen your eyes.

You cry out his name, screaming and trembling as he’s firm in keeping you unmoving which only makes it more intense, and he groans, licking the wound on your neck as you feel his cum fill you up, milking him dry as your walls clench repeatedly to grip him.

He’s about to pull out but your hips follow his movements, keeping him close to you and you can practically feel him smirk against your neck.

“Baby, we can’t stay like this,” but you don’t want to listen to him even if he’s right. Even when you feel him try to lick the crimson red from your skin by your neck to clean you up because you’re being stubborn and won’t let him help you properly, even then, you don’t want to move.

However, Changmin is just as stubborn as you. That, and he has supernatural strength, able to overpower you in seconds and so he does, throwing you around and up onto his waist as he stands on the bed, your legs around his hips as you feel his cum slowly move down between your legs and to your ass, his hands gripping your flesh while he looks up at you.

There’s something so inherently sexy about the way he can get up after an orgasm and throw you onto his waist to walk you into the bathroom, and something far more sexy about being met with the state you’re in because of him. He ruins you beautifully, litters your skin with beautiful colour that also stains his soft lips and white teeth.

“I’m fineeeee,” but it sounds pathetic, and it’s near embarrassing how your body arches to him spreading your legs again, making him laugh at you.

“I need to clean them,” he says, stubborn as he gently slaps your hand away that’s reaching out to touch him, “behave.”

As soon as the damp warm cloth touches your wounded thigh is when you realise that it actually hurts quite a bit more than you’d noticed, making you hiss slightly at the stinging as he tries to gently treat your skin. His eyes are hungry when he does, and you know that deep down, he’s fighting with himself to taste you again.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?”

Though you aren’t sure why you called his name, what you’re trying to get his attention for, so you just watch him fondly with eyes that give away far more than you’re ready to admit to him or even yourself.

“You’re pretty.”

He laughs again, moving up to clean your neck and you let him without any hesitation, completely trusting him despite his instincts.

“You’re so cute,” it makes you blush, dazed from orgasm and happy enough that he warms you with words that seem so mundane and basic, yet they’re not, “I’m gonna disinfect it but… do you wanna shower first?”

“Yes please,” your hands reach for him again, and this time he takes them into his, drawing circles with his thumbs over your knuckles, “with you?”

“If you behave,” you gasp, laughing and feigning shock though you nod nevertheless as he brings you off the counter and to your shower, stumbling slightly as you do, “careful.”

“I don’t like how you still function. It’s not fair,” you pout, letting him follow you with a hand reached out around your back just in case you fall.

“Darling, you know you can’t compare us like that,” and he’s right, of course. He has advantages, unfair ones, but it still makes you pout.

“Do I not satisfy you, hmm?” it’s a joke, both of you know it, but Changmin has turned you around and pressed you against the tiled wall in less than a second. His eyes are fading from their blood red to an orange hue, an indication that they’re going back to their natural state of yellow.

“Answer your own question, I dare you to.”

It’s the way his eyes hunger for you again, how they want you, always, and you know it was stupid to even joke, because the very answer is one thing you’ve always known since you met.

Ji Changmin wants you the way one wants a drug when they’re addicted. He’s insatiable and he hungers for you, because you’re the only one who satisfies him.

You're the only one that tastes so sweet.

changmin is the reason i have no sanity left and i hope it showed PFFF

I'll try to update quite soon cause I have some extra time but deciding on who to write is hard when I've been on my knees for all of them lately 🛐

tbz masterlist

#the boyz smut #changmin smut #q smut #ji changmin #the boyz changmin #changmin x reader #the boyz q #smut #the boyz #the boyz changmin smut #q x reader #tbz x reader #tbz #roar made me do it #changmin is an aftercare king always though #supernatural changmin #nc-17

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void-tiger · 2 years

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Warning: Sandman Spoilers.

(I’d plop a Read More here except I can never remember how to do that in mobile, mobile is much friendlier in layout to how my brain functions than the full web-on-computer will ever be, and Readmores flatout break my ability to edit, say, tags after I hit that Post button.)

Right. Okay.

…I think what irritates me about the Endless Siblings?

Delirium Can Do No Wrong Because She Baby (which is true. We dunno what shit happened to her that forced her to shift from Delight to Delirium, but we know it was BAD) even when she torments mortals for her Games (just less maliciously than Desire and Despair; it’s debatable if she’s fully Aware of the consequence of what she’s doing), even when Delirium’s (understandable!) demand to have Destruction back actively kills people!

Or Destruction—who LEFT and almost demands the others to leave as well despite Not All Of Them CAN Leave (and to be frank? Him abandoning his post despite having Creation as his counter-domain is probably why, say, warfare became SO destructive SO rapidly followed by a technological boom)—and literally planted what might as well have been BOMBS in his closest friends if any of his siblings tried to find him.

Or Desire—who fucks around and NEVER has to find out. Who actively targets Dream and blames Dream for their bad relationship with their older brother…and never takes any accountability for their own part in it and continued active antagonism and actively trying to DESTROY Dream either by spilling family blood and igniting the Kindly Ones’ Wrath and using Dream’s Own Function against him…or by risking Dream shifting into something Not Dream Any Longer. (And the absolute Irony of Desire being the one (1) sibling to EVER help, then gets pissed off and antagonizes further. Gee, Desire. I wonder why Dream doesn’t ask and if he asks you he asks you last!)

Or Despair. Who plays games beyond her function, and this aspect of Despair seemingly ignoring her counter-function of Hope, and is a co-conspirator albeit passive co-conspirator in Desire’s torment of Dream in much the same way as a pair of school-aged Mean Girls

Or Destiny. Who so rarely shows that he cares, uses his Book as a Defense Mechanism Excuse in a similar way as Dream does his Pride (and being prickly by-nature but most of his standoffish-ness is honestly a defense against Holding ALL Of Subconscious + His Family’s A Bunch Of Assholes (Too)). And if he does anything “outside his Book” or “finally acts within the Book” …he denies it’s because he cares. It’s to berate for showing up in jeans or someone else leaving their stuff in his room (even when someone else left it)

Or Death. Who had her own Edgelord Phase that lasted for eons before her younger siblings even existed. Who never once actually came to help yet berates Dream for not asking her when he wound up in Serious Trouble…again. (And not by his own fault, unless you want to count fixing a past mistake seriously draining him to the point he could he snared by Desire’s (and Despair’s but mostly Desire’s) Trap.)

…They’re ALL Assholes, Jared!

But only ONE of them is held to a standard none of the rest of them even bother to live to and gets actively punished for it at every turn, even when he tries to reach out, do better. (And yes, Morpheus!Dream has some serious fuckups. But. So do the rest of them. And he’s kinda the only one held accountable for them + some things that really aren’t his fault or are actively traumatic and he doesn’t really have a way to safely recover from without, y’know, affecting the Dreaming and all the dreamers! And it’s not for a lack of trying or continuing to try, despite his natural stubbornness, prickliness, introversion, and avoidance!)

#sandman spoilers #endless siblings #tiger’s roar #…possibly morpheus!dream apologica but fuck it #I was reflecting on WHY I’m so defensive of Dream and. well.#it’s kinda because of how my own family and school environment treated me #for being ‘an angry child’ or ‘back talking’ when. it was always defensive. I never started it. ever.#and. like Dream. what made the difference? people Actively Showing that they loved me and cared #that despite ‘not handling things as well as I should’ I still didn’t deserve THAT #and learning that having Bad Days with my mental health where everything ‘sets me off’ doesn’t make me a bad person #as long as I didn’t. y’know. take it out on anyone #I may be responsible for my own self #but others are responsible for not deliberately trying to hurt me or my trust or my boundaries #I Am Not Responsible for them choosing to hurt or disregard me!#…honestly I wish I could just take morpheus!dream #give him a hug (if he’d allow it). reassure him that being grouchy or depressed etc isn’t a bad thing. it just Is #let him Finally grieve and cry and rage in a place that WON’T flood or raze or affect everyone’s dreams #encourage him that it’s okay to grow and do better #(and fuck anyone who takes advantage of that and his sensitivity)#just. the guy needs therapy!! allowed to feel things without Instant Subconcious And Literal Consoquences!!#think there’s a term in family therapy for Dream: diagnosed problem.#(if I’m remembering Jono’s Terms in CinemaTherapy/MendedLight correctly)#and well. Even When! the Diagnosed Problem is ‘doing better’ things are STILL Fucked Up #because guess what! they weren’t the (only) problem at all!!#and well. him feeling things So Deeply and He DOES Care Actually (but clamping things down into a ‘resting bitch face’)?#WHAT A FUCKING MOOD.

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