Jimin is hungry.
He isn’t often hungry, at least not the type of hunger which has his mouth salivating and his second canines aching to slip down and prick soft flesh and let the warm sweetness of blood hit his tongue like sweet nectar.
The most frustrating part of the whole situation is that Jimin is on a business trip and there are certain activities one shouldn’t undertake when traveling abroad and representing the company you work for. But Jimin has never really been one for following the rules, for doing what’s expected of him—and such behaviour has most certainly landed him in a fair amount of trouble in the past.
It’s hard to focus on anything else, though, when the predator instincts in him start to claw their way to the surface; all he wants to do, and all he can focus on, is the satisfaction he knows he’ll feel when he sinks his fangs into some poor, unassuming human’s neck and sucks their lifeblood out of them. Maybe suck their dick beforehand, too, but that’s just an added bonus at this point.
Jimin rolls over on the soft sheets of his hotel bed trying to ignore the tug in his gut which demands his attention as he kicks his legs out and stares up at the white patterns on the ceiling above. His tongue slides over his front teeth, catching a little on the slight protrusion of his aching second canines.
Goddamnit, Jimin groans to himself, where the fuck is your self-restraint, Park Jimin?
But it’s a little too late to be berating his own self-control when he’s already planted the seed of thought in his own mind, can already feel the constricting vines of the rising hunger twisting up through his stomach and tightening around his throat.
The monotonous, continuous tick-tock of the clock on the bedside cabinet settles like a dull throb at the base of his skull as the minutes pass slower and slower. The ache spreads across the width of his shoulders, down the first few vertebrae of his spine—the very tips of his fingers tingling with the need to feel warm skin, smooth and unblemished, giving so easily under the firm pressure of his hands.
Jimin knows he won’t be able to sleep now, not unless he drags his body to where his duffel bag is sitting across the room and downs a handful of suppressant sleep pills. But he doesn’t want to do that, doesn’t want to feel the distant numbness sinking through him like tepid water on a summer’s day—just enough to soothe the ache but not enough to quench the dry, parched, thirst which burns in his throat.
With a resentful sigh, Jimin curls onto his side and shuts his eyes. Sleep eventually wraps its soft, seductive tendrils around his consciousness and drags his mind down into its murky depths; his dreams vivid and fitful and full of glinting white teeth and crimson-stained lips.
+ + +
Jimin absentmindedly taps his fingernails on the smooth mahogany surface of the board room table. He can smell the nervous energy radiating off the human next to him, the bitter acidic citrusy tang sour and unwelcome. Whether or not the man is anxious because of Jimin’s presence in the room or because he knows he doesn’t really have a choice in signing the contract laid out before him, Jimin is unsure. But it irritates him all the same.
A long sigh leaves his lips as he sits back in the uncomfortable, rigid wood of the chair. The meeting should have finished an hour ago, and though time to a vampire as old as Jimin means little when it comes to such short amounts, he’s bored and annoyed and still fucking hungry.
Jimin knows it might not be the epitome of professionalism to pull out your phone in the middle of a rather important meeting but, truthfully, the main reason his boss had decided Jimin should accompany the Head of Finance in the first place was mostly as a tool of intimidation.
He’s scrolling through his social media when a low cough brings his attention back to the present. Jaehwa, the Head of Finance, levels Jimin with a mild glare and motions with his head towards the contract now placed in front of the vampire.
Finally, Jimin rolls his eyes, sitting forwards and sending a rather fake smile in Jaehwa’s direction as he scribbles his signature along the dotted line on the three pages he’s designated to sign.
“Are we all done here, Jaehwa-ssi?” Jimin clicks his pen and passes the pile of papers back over to the older man. Well, older in terms of Jaehwa aging as a mortal human does and Jimin clearly not suffering those same consequences as a very non-mortal and decidedly non-human being.
Jaehwa barely contains the irritation Jimin can already smell rolling off him in rather satisfying waves of sharp grapefruit and stale sweat, “Yes, Jimin-ssi. The meeting is adjourned.”
“Perfect,” Jimin smiles, all teeth, “if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to. It was a pleasure to meet you, Gongwon-ssi.”
He bows as he stands to the man beside him and the rest of his company associates who are all sitting, looking rather bewildered, around the rest of the table. Without a second glance, Jimin buttons up his suit jacket once again, retrieves his leather briefcase from beside his chair, and heads purposefully for the door. As he makes his exit, he hears Jaehwa making a rather stiff attempt at an apology on behalf of his apparently rude behaviour. Jimin chuckles to himself as he steps into the elevator feeling rather satisfied at how he had managed to rile up half of the men in the room without truly opening his mouth.
Humans, Jimin shakes his head, a smug grin curling at the corners of his mouth as he presses the ground floor button on the metal panel.
The grin slips off his lips the moment the elevator doors slide open to reveal the lobby when his senses are suddenly overwhelmed by the mouth-watering scent of tobacco and sweetgrass permeating the air. It’s so strong he can taste it on the tip of his tongue and it barely takes a moment for his sharp hearing to zero in on the steady heartbeat pulsing from the reception desk.
A harsh breath hisses between Jimin’s lips as he takes in dark hair, broad shoulders, a jawline that could slice his throat open and—fuck, he’s stunning. He doesn’t realise he’s completely come to a halt before he distantly registers a female voice asking him to step aside so they can enter the elevator behind him. The pale column of the man’s neck is on full display as he leans slightly over the reception desk to pass over his card.
Jimin has to clench his hands into tight fists to stop himself from striding right over to the beautiful man and clamping onto that smooth juncture visible just above the collar of his shirt. His second canines throb, his vision starts to blur as the red haze takes over.
The man seems to sense Jimin’s intense gaze as he turns just enough to make direct eye contact, punching the air from Jimin’s lungs. And he winks—the stupidly pretty man fucking winks.
Jimin’s gut clenches and he’s storming across the lobby before his self-control throws itself out of the window and he pounces on the man in front of the many people loitering in the vicinity. The slight bite of the late November air helps cool the simmering hunger inside him and Jimin hurries into a dim back alley, forcing himself to breathe in deep and long until the red haze slowly fades from his vision.
I need a cigarette, Jimin leans back against the damp brick wall, laying down his briefcase and digging into his suit jacket pocket. It takes a second for him to find the packet tucked away beside his phone but once the cigarette is between his lips and he snaps his fingers, a small flame igniting, he finally inhales acrid smoke deep into his lungs.
It’s a pseudo effect, but it still makes him feel instantly calmer.
“Goddamnit,” he breathes smoke, tapping the ash as he closed his eyes. The damp chill seeps through the material of his suit as he continues to press back against the wall. It’s grounding, though, as is the dim light of the alley, for a creature of the cold and the darkness.
It’s been a very long time since the simple scent of such an alluring human has had such an extreme effect on his predator instincts. Jimin is old, one of the oldest vampires still happily integrating with human society, and has always had an iron grip on the creature which claws at his insides and howls for blood.
That human, however, had set a fire blazing inside the cold centre of his being—had almost caused Jimin’s tight self-control to slip right out of his grasp. And Jimin has to take a long drag of his cigarette to fill his being with the familiarly sour taste of smoke in an attempt to distract himself. But just as he feels the tension strung taught like a tightrope in his chest start to loosen, his body reminds him that the flavour in his mouth, his nose, his lungs, is tobacco and that human had smelled of tobacco and sweetgrass and something dark and Jimin groans in frustration as his lungs constrict.
He needs to feed, and he needs to feed now—desperation to satisfy the growing, insatiable hunger clawing its way up his insides and digging its sharp talons into the dip of his throat becomes all-consuming as he struggles to even out his breathing.
The cigarette between his fingers falls to the concrete as his hands start to shake, his peripheral vision hazy and red and Jimin slumps into a crouch as the physical strength to stand leaves him—every part of his being focusing on trying valiantly not to give in to his most base and primitive instincts.
A tight growl spills from his lips as his nails dig into his scalp, the sharp sting of pain as he grips and pulls at his hair keeping him sane as his uneven, rushed breaths rattle in his lungs. It’s been so long since Jimin has sunk his fangs into warm, soft flesh and let fresh, sweet human blood fill his mouth. And the need to drink and drink and drink is becoming almost too much for him to ignore.
He’s so consumed in attempting to tame the beast within him that he doesn’t even register the sound of footsteps approaching; is so focused on the slow, almost non-existent beating of his own heart that he doesn’t hear the regular, steady pulsing beat of someone else’s drawing closer and closer. The increase in the taste of tobacco in his lungs is making it harder for him to breathe—not that breathing is a necessity for him—but it’s the sudden burst of sweetgrass and vanilla on his tongue that has Jimin belatedly realising he’s not alone in the side-alley anymore.
Jimin blinks, staring blankly at the black leather chelsea boots not too dissimilar from his own which had come to a halt just a step away from his crouching form. The man clears his throat, a low cough, and the boots on the ground shuffle slightly.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice low and raspy. He sounds genuinely quite concerned for Jimin’s well-being, although Jimin sincerely doubts such concerns will last long when he sees the scarlet shade of Jimin’s glowing eyes.
Jimin’s thighs and calf muscles are burning from the strain of crouching awkwardly against the wall and he knows he has to stand but he’s not sure he trusts himself. He groans quietly into his palms, “Yeah… yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”
“Not to sound presumptuous but… you don’t look fine—you don’t really sound like you’re okay, either.”
And Jimin appreciates that this man, this beautiful man who smells utterly delectable, is genuinely worried about him—but Jimin’s grip on the slippery snake of his predatory instincts writhing within him as it tries to slither free is becoming dangerously weak with each passing second the man stays in his presence. His voice is strained and tense when he answers that there’s no reason for him to worry and that Jimin just needs a moment to collect himself—he’s fine, Jimin hears himself insisting, I’m fine.
There’s a short pause where the man—Jimin can’t even bring himself to look up at him because he knows he won’t be able to control himself if he does—seems to asses Jimin’s rigid body where he remains in his uncomfortable squat. Then, he’s crouching down opposite him, the muscles of his thighs suddenly very prominent as they strain against the slim-fitting material of his slacks. “I know hunger when I see it,” the man says simply, “you need to feed. You can’t stay like this for much longer—it’s too dangerous.”
Jimin makes the mistake of glancing over at him in his bewilderment, utterly taken aback by the man’s knowledge and intuition in reading his behaviour. “What?”
The man chuckles, husky and a little breathless, “My little brother is a vampire. Well, he was my younger brother… I guess it’s a bit more complicated now. Anyway, my point is… I know the signs when I see them. And you need to feed or we both know it’s only going to get worse.”
Jimin’s gaze roams over the man’s face, stunned. He’s even more beautiful than Jimin had first thought—slanting, cat-like eyes which stare intensely back into Jimin’s; high, sharp cheekbones framing his slim face; a soft, sweet curve to his nose and a slight pout to his pink lips when he speaks. And the tight set to his jaw when he finishes talking, the stubborn sign of someone who knows they’re right but still prepares themselves for the possibility of a debate.
“You know I’m right,” the man speaks softly but the hardness to his eyes tells Jimin he’s very serious and isn’t about to take no for an answer.
The red seeping into Jimin’s vision only gets stronger, the throbbing in his gums pulsing with each slow beat of his heart. Before Jimin can protest, the man reaches out one of his hands, palm up. He’s offering to help Jimin stand back up again but Jimin can hardly tear his eyes away from the pulsing of the artery just under the pale, thin veil of skin over his wrist. And his hands are beautiful, Jimin notices, fingers long and slender and pretty.
Jimin is so fucked.
He takes the offered hand a moment later, feeling something surprisingly warm settle in his lower abdomen at the size difference as his own, much smaller hand is easily wrapped up entirely in the other man’s. The man helps Jimin pull himself upright with a notable display of strength and the sudden proximity has Jimin’s control over himself wavering dangerously.
“Thank you,” he manages to say through gritted teeth as his eyelids flutter, trying to mentally force the redness back from his vision. But, shit, the man just smells so fucking good Jimin can hardly breathe.
“You’re welcome,” comes the low, husky reply. “I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi.”
“Jimin,” he hears himself say, “Park Jimin.”
Yoongi lets go of his hand a moment later, the strange hand hold acting as something like an introductory handshake, “Jimin-ssi, I can help you to a blood bank? That should help, right?”
Jimin nods because, yes, a blood bank would help him, but it’s not the release he needs.
“Okay,” Yoongi steps back out of his space as if finally noticing the effect his presence and close proximity is having on the vampire, “I’ll see where the closest one is to here.”
There’s a minute or so where Jimin simply stands, leaning back against the cold, damp wall once again and tries to collect the pieces of himself which had slipped free from his controlled grasp during that rather embarrassing show of weakness. As Yoongi searches on his phone for a blood bank near their current location Jimin can feel himself getting restless. He needs to feed, needs to feed properly, not just drink the slightly sour tang of donated blood from a plastic packet—needs to feel skin break under the pressure of his fangs, feel fresh, warm blood against his tongue.
Yoongi starts to speak again but it’s muffled, sounding a little like Jimin is stuck underneath the onslaught of a rushing stream of water as blood roars in his ears. Jimin follows the way his lips move around the different words but finds himself too distracted by how pretty his mouth is to try and work out what Yoongi is trying to tell him. The hand which clamps down on his shoulder and gently squeezes brings Jimin back into the present and he shakes his head in an attempt to clear it.
“Sorry,” Jimin rasps, “this is… I’m struggling.”
“I can tell,” Yoongi has a soft frown furrowing his brow and his hand on Jimin’s shoulder squeezes again in reassurance. He hesitates before letting out a low sigh, “It’s not going to be enough, is it? Taking you to a blood bank, I mean.”
Jimin feels embarrassed, but the human isn’t wrong. “No, it’s not.”
“Have you been with a feeder recently? Do you have one we can contact?” Yoongi asks as Jimin tries desperately not to think about how the firm grip on his shoulder would be really fucking nice around his throat.
But Jimin only has three feeders for when the need to feed gets rough and they’re all back in Japan where he lives for most of the year.
“No, I’m here on business,” Jimin shakes his head. “And I can’t… I can’t just... find a new feeder.”
Yoongi cocks his head, frowning, “How does it manifest itself? Your feeding, I mean. My brother is a Primal, it’s why he moved out of the city and into the country.”
Jimin’s heard of Primals before, although it’s been a century or so since he’d come into contact with one. They have to hunt when they feed, have to feel the thrill of the chase, have to catch their prey with their own hands before they can sate their hunger properly.
But Jimin is a Carnal. His vampire feeds off the erotic pleasure of sex. And that means that finding a random feeder who can give Jimin what he needs during the process isn’t going to work. There are certain rules Jimin has put in place with his feeders, they know what he needs and what to expect when his Carnal instincts fully take over.
“Jimin-ssi? What breed are you? I might be able to help.”
And just the thought of this man offering himself up to help Jimin through a feed has a tremor of need shaking through his entire body.
“No,” Jimin hisses, “no.”
Yoongi’s grip on his shoulder tightens, “I’ve been with vampires before, Jimin-ssi. Just tell me.”
Whether it’s the sudden surge of hunger crashing over Jimin like the break of a tidal wave or the strong press of Yoongi’s fingers into his shoulder which has the Carnal in Jimin roaring up inside him before he can stop it, Jimin isn’t sure. But the next moment, he’s got Yoongi pinned up against the cold, damp brick wall with his nose shoved into the crook of his neck, a thigh between the human’s leg and an iron grip on his slim hips pressing him back.
“No,” Jimin repeats, inhaling a lungful of tobacco and sweetgrass and crowds impossibly closer to the trapped human, “don’t… fuck, I’m not…”
Fingers curl into his thick, blonde locks and tug hard enough to have slight sparks of pain shooting through him, “Are you… Jimin-ssi, are you a Carnal?”
Jimin groans into his neck, physically unable to pry his hands off Yoongi’s hips and move away from him; unable to restrain himself any longer with the man’s scent so strong and the pulsing of the artery in his neck just an inch away from his throbbing second canines.
“I’ve been a feeder before,” Yoongi says, “I met plenty of vampires through my brother after he first turned. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into and I saw the way you looked at me from across the lobby. You’re hungry, Jimin-ssi, and I don’t want you to lose control if there’s something I can willingly do to help.”
Jimin’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth, his throat tight. It’s getting harder not to give in when Yoongi just won’t stop talking, won’t stop cutting down every single strict and necessary rule Jimin has walled up around himself over the centuries with each word which leaves those pretty lips of his.
“Please,” he hears himself say, muffled and dull as he drowns, “don’t.”
It’s undeniable, the intensity of the pull in Jimin’s gut—it won’t let him move, won’t let him put an inch of space between their bodies. The warmth radiating off Yoongi’s very human body is only feeding the monster buried deep within as it claws its way free from its restraints.
Yoongi asks him another question and Jimin vaguely hears himself responds, hardly able to hear anything over the constant beating of Yoongi’s heart as it pumps blood through his veins. Then Yoongi is using his arm around Jimin’s waist to move them and everything is red and dark and Jimin’s iron grip never relaxes.
+ + +
When Jimin finally breaches the surface once again, pulls himself above water and heaves air deep into his lungs, they’re standing in front of the elevator in the lobby of his hotel.
“Which floor?” Yoongi asks.
Jimin blinks, “Penthouse.”
Yoongi breathes out through his nose, lips pressed together as he holds back a smirk. And then they’re in the confined space of the elevator and Jimin has Yoongi pressed up against the mirrored wall the second after the doors close and the elevator starts to ascend. As he claws at the soft material of Yoongi’s shirt where it’s tucked into his slacks over his hips, he nuzzles again into the warm, soft skin of the human’s neck.
It’s as he drags his lips over the pulsing artery that Jimin catches a glimpse of his reflection. He looks completely and utterly gone—hair fluffed from Yoongi’s tugging, eyes glowing a hungry crimson, a hint of his fangs as his tongue flickers out to taste Yoongi’s skin again.
The soft ding of the elevator as they reach the penthouse brings Jimin back to the present moment and his head spins as Yoongi uses his grip on his waist to move him backwards far enough to allow him to get them out of the elevator with minimum space between them. There’s a moment of silence as Jimin fumbles for his keycard and then he’s swiping it into the lock and Yoongi is crowding behind him, lips brushing over his nape.
Jimin pauses, a moment of clarity parting through the fog of hunger, “Yoongi,” he breathes, “you’re sure about this? You promise?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi says into his skin, “I’m sure. Let’s get inside.”
Jimin runs his tongue over his front teeth as he holds back the urge to say—inside me.
Instead, he pushes the door open and reaches behind to grab onto Yoongi’s wrists, keeping the man’s warm and surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his middle as he leads them into the penthouse suite. There’s hunger coursing through his veins, every slow thump of his half-dead heart against his rib cage spreading more and more heat and need and desire and—shit, we’re not gonna make it to the bedroom.
The next moment is a blur as Jimin’s tight grip on the monster inside him slips and he finds himself staring down at a startled Yoongi through a haze of red. They’re on the couch, Jimin registers as he ducks his head and their lips brush.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, staring into the burning crimson of Jimin’s hunger-starved eyes.
Jimin wraps a hand around the back of his neck, index finger and thumb digging into the pressure points where his neck muscles meet his shoulders—forcing Yoongi to tilt his head up a fraction. It’s Yoongi who closes the breath of space between them, soft warm lips firmly pressed against Jimin’s. The red haze fades slightly as their mouths start to move, an insistent pressure which momentarily calms the beast within.
Flicking his tongue out to taste Yoongi’s lips, Jimin’s fingers bury themselves in the soft hairs on his nape. A soft groan escapes the human beneath him and, spurred on by the scent of intense arousal pouring off Yoongi already, Jimin lets his fangs graze over the plump of his bottom lip.
“Oh,” Yoongi breathes, lips parting around the low sound and that’s all the invitation Jimin needs to dive inside his mouth—tongue flickering against his front teeth and curling up against the roof of his mouth.
Pressing his body closer, Jimin savours the sweetness of Yoongi’s mouth on his tongue. The hunger is simmering once again in his lower belly, his throat tight as he restrains the urge to bite, to feed. Gripping Yoongi’s shoulders for purchase, Jimin separates their mouths as he starts to grind down into Yoongi’s lap. “Mm,” he hums in satisfaction, warmth curling in his abdomen as he rocks his ass in small, teasing circles over the hardening length of Yoongi’s cock.
Yoongi chases after his mouth, one hand wrapped firmly around Jimin’s waist, the other burying itself in his hair and tugging him down again. This time there’s no hesitation in the pressing of their mouths together and it’s Yoongi who licks his way deep inside Jimin’s mouth—and, fuck, Jimin needs that tongue working its magic buried deep in his ass now.
“Shit,” Jimin moans, breaths harsh and voice already sounding utterly wrecked—the low rumble in his chest a tell-tale sign that his grip on his Carnal nature is slowly, steadily becoming weaker and weaker.
Another smooth roll of his hips and Yoongi curses against his lips, his hips jerking up to meet Jimin’s. Hot satisfaction shudders through the vampire as he feels the way his prey beneath him so desperately desires him. Curiosity has Jimin fidgeting slightly, lifting his hips just right so that when he drops his ass back against Yoongi’s crotch he can feel the shape of his hard cock pressing right into the crease of his cheeks.
“Oh,” Jimin grins wickedly, “sweetheart, you didn’t tell me you were so big.”
Yoongi’s flushed cheeks darken, his pupils blown as his nails dig into Jimin’s scalp, “You didn’t ask, babydoll.”
“Babydoll?” Jimin stills for a moment, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as Yoongi rolls his hips up. “A-ah… mm, I like that.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi rasps into his throat as Jimin’s head tips back, encouraged by Yoongi’s slender fingers still buried in his hair.
Jimin moans softly as Yoongi’s lips press against the soft skin of his straining neck, mouthing over the cord of his throat. “That’s—fuck, yeah, say it again.”
A sound surprisingly close to a growl rumbles through Yoongi’s chest, Jimin’s dick twitching as Yoongi’s teeth press into the skin below his jaw, “Mm, so pretty for me, babydoll.”
Jimin feels hot, feels a rush of arousal sparking through him, feels his ass clench as Yoongi’s clothed dick rocks against his cheeks, “O-oh, Yoongi—yes.”
Crowding over the human beneath him, Jimin presses their mouths together once again—breathless, hot, needy. For a moment, it’s just a mess of tongue and teeth but then there’s large, warm palms on his thighs, long fingers gripping the meat of them and then Jimin finds himself being lifted off Yoongi’s lap.
A sound of confusion leaves him before he has to wrap his legs around Yoongi’s waist because—Jesus fuck—Yoongi carries him two steps backwards and then he’s being pinned against the wall. Jimin could easily throw Yoongi across the room if he harnessed all the inhuman strength within him, but to fall pliant under the human’s touch, to feel the strength in the flexing muscles of his warm body as he traps Jimin between his arms has a thrill sparking down his spine.
There’s a grin on his lips as Yoongi attacks his neck and collarbone, having tugged the first few buttons of Jimin’s expensive shirt loose. The way Yoongi is purposefully focusing almost all of his attention on Jimin’s neck to keep the vampire submissive is really fucking hot. It’s a move feeders learn from Carnals to help them control the situation when the vampire starts to lose themselves in their need to bite and to fuck. And Yoongi’s mouth is so hot and wet as it marks up Jimin’s neck that he has no room to make a single complaint.
The grin on Jimin’s lips widens as he realises Yoongi has also made sure that Jimin hasn’t gone near his neck since they started making out—yet another demonstration that Yoongi is definitely experienced. Letting a Carnal near your neck before sex is like giving a predator its prey, its reward, without the thrill of a successful hunt—the satisfaction doesn’t run so deep and Jimin would most likely lose control and drain Yoongi completely when they finally got round to actually fucking.
All it takes is a sharp digging of teeth into the dip of his throat and the grin slips right off Jimin’s lips, mouth parting around a low, broken moan. His hips twitch forwards as he uses the grip of his thighs around Yoongi’s waist to start a slow grind—unable to stop himself as his Carnal instincts scream for him to fuck.
Yoongi seems to take this in his stride, working his tongue over the bruise blooming from the pressure of his lips and teeth just above Jimin’s left collarbone. As he hoists Jimin up higher with his strong grip on his hips, he rolls his own upwards. A high, keening sound escapes Jimin as the slightly new angle has the hard length of Yoongi’s clothed cock grinding perfectly against his own. He needs Yoongi’s mouth on his own immediately as pleasure rocks through him with every roll of their hips so he releases Yoongi’s shoulders from his iron grip and yanks his head back.
There’s a deliciously glazed look in Yoongi’s eyes as he’s forced to move back from Jimin’s neck and Jimin feels hot satisfaction bubbling up from his gut and making his half-dead heart beat that little bit faster against his rib cage.
“Please,” Jimin breathes against his lips. “Mm, Yoongi—please.”
He’s not sure what he’s asking for, but Yoongi swiftly presses their mouths together with a low groan. The only warning Jimin gets as their tongues tangle and the spaces between them become non-existent is the flexing of Yoongi’s fingers around his hips and then the human is using his grip and the strength in his arms to lift and drop Jimin’s hips against his own.
“Oh, fuck,” Jimin pants into his mouth, flicking his tongue over Yoongi’s lower lip and groaning as Yoongi lets him delve inside the wet cavern of his mouth again.
Yoongi makes a low, breathy sound, bouncing Jimin lightly in his grip—just enough delicious friction for Jimin’s mouth to go pliant under the pressure of his own. There’s a content growl rumbling in Jimin’s chest as he submits to the talented flickers of Yoongi’s tongue against the roof of his mouth, curling behind his teeth and twisting around his own.
Dimly, Jimin realises that the muffled high-pitched noises he can hear are coming from him, whimpers and whines spilling into Yoongi’s mouth as he’s manhandled—the rocking of their lower halves causing searing hot pleasure to course through his entire being.
Jimin is so lost in the waves of arousal crashing through him that he hears himself whine pitifully before his mind catches up with why the sound left his lips—Yoongi’s body is no longer pressed tight against his own. Instead, the pretty human is sinking to his knees, hands trailing down from Jimin’s slim hips to the thick muscles of his thighs. A tight moan escapes Jimin’s mouth as Yoongi’s fingertips press into the meat of his thighs, thumbs teasing at the crease of where his legs meet his crotch through the thin fabric of his slacks.
“You like the view, babydoll?” Yoongi husks as he brushes the pad of his thumb over the hard length of Jimin’s clothed cock.
Jimin feels no shame in the ways his cock twitches under such a small touch, feels no shame in the loud groan of Yoongi’s name which falls from his lips as his head tips back against the wall, “Yoongi, fuck—so hot.”
Yoongi’s mouth ghosts over the bulge in his slacks, hot and wet even through the fabric. “Look at me then, pretty.”
A sharp curse and Jimin’s hips twitch forwards, aching to bury himself between those pink, spit-slicked lips, “A-ah… Yoon—fuck. I c-can’t, please.”
“Mm,” Yoongi hums, fingers making quick work of unfastening Jimin’s slacks and pulling them down until they bunch up at his knees. “Oh, Jimin—shit.”
Jimin can taste Yoongi’s arousal in the air, can hear the way the human's heart-beat just kicked up against his rib cage. Fingertips run over black lace and he hears Yoongi curse under his breath once again. “You like them, sweetheart?” Jimin asks, breathless but slightly more in control than he was when Yoongi has first sunk to his knees.
“Fuck yeah,” Yoongi all but moans as he palms over Jimin’s aching cock, fingers catching on lace and silk. “You’re so fucking pretty, babydoll. Fuck.”
A soft moan of encouragement from Jimin and Yoongi is tugging his dick out from the lace panties, only pulling the pretty underwear down enough to wrap his fingers around Jimin’s length. The vampire risks a glance downwards, unable to resist the urge to see what Yoongi’s pale, slender fingers look like wrapped around his cock. “O-oh, sweetheart—”
The praise on the tip of Jimin’s tongue is cut off by a throaty moan as Yoongi’s hand starts to pump his length, thumb flicking over the sensitive head. Jimin’s cock is by no means small, but it almost looks deceptively so under the firm grip of Yoongi’s large palm and long fingers. The sight alone has Jimin’s gut clenching, Yoongi’s lips twisting into a smug grin as he swipes at the beading precum, using it to ease the glide of his warm palm.
“Ah—Yoongi, o-oh, fuck—please,” Jimin is whining now, lips pressed tightly together to hold back the noises which catch in his throat, fists clenched at his sides as hot, molten pleasure surges uncontrollably through him. His fangs throb, protruding over his plump lower lip and all he can see his dark crimson, all he can smell is Yoongi.
The restraint within him is strung taut like a tightrope, ready to snap under the slightest pull too far. And it doesn’t take much more than the sudden wet heat of Yoongi’s mouth enveloping the leaking head of his dick before it really does snap. His hands are in Yoongi’s hair a moment later, his cock burying itself inside his mouth. The firm grip of Yoongi’s hands on his hips keeps him from thrusting forwards too hard even if he’s aching to watch Yoongi’s eyes glisten with tears as he chokes. It doesn’t seem as though Yoongi is against that idea either as he gazes up at Jimin through his lashes and slowly starts to sink further down Jimin’s length.
“Oh my—fuck,” Jimin hisses, blood roaring in his ears as wet heat surrounds him. “Y-you… ah, fuck, your mouth looks so fuckin’ good on my cock, sweetheart—shit.”
Yoongi moans around him, sending a shudder up Jimin’s spine as his gut clenches—the low hum vibrating through his entire being. The corners of Jimin’s vision are starting to blur, his second canines feel heavy in his gums as the need to bite, to feed, becomes all the more prominent as the arousal within him continues to weaken the control the vampire has over his predatory nature.
A sharp cry hitches in Jimin’s throat as Yoongi’s tongue teases along the underside of his cock, lips soft and mouth warm as his cheeks hollow. He can’t help the twitching of his hips as he tries to hold back the monster within which is screaming at him to snap his hips forwards, unrelenting and forceful, until the tip of his cock is choking Yoongi deep in his throat.
But he manages to contain himself, nails scratching Yoongi’s scalp as the man starts to suck him off in earnest, taking Jimin deeper inside the velvet heat of his mouth with every bob of his head. There’s experience in the way his tongue works over the sensitive skin of the tip, the way his throat tightens and then relaxes as Jimin’s cock slides between his pretty pink lips. “O-oh, fuuuck—sweetheart, s’good,” Jimin slurs as the lewd wet slurping sounds of Yoongi sucking and swallowing around his dick like a starving man only increase in volume. His stomach tightens, his thighs trembling, and he knows he’s close to spilling down Yoongi’s throat.
The tight grip of the fingers pressing into his thighs to hold him still loosens and Yoongi pulls of his throbbing cock with a filthy wet pop. He licks his lips, the glistening sheen of precome and saliva just begging to be lapped up of his mouth. One hand cups the back of Jimin’s thigh, angling his lower half away from the wall and a warm palm wraps around Jimin’s cock a second later. Yoongi presses open-mouthed kisses up the inner muscles of Jimin’s thighs, and then he’s mouthing, slick and hot, at Jimin’s balls.
A cracked groan of pleasure tears from Jimin’s lips, his fangs digging into the flesh of his lower lip as his eyelashes flutter, “Oh, fuck—Yoongi, your m-mouth, I can’t...”
The human lets out a deep hum as his tongue briefly slips behind Jimin’s balls to tease ever so slightly at his perineum—right as the pad of his thumb flicks over the weeping head of Jimin’s cock. It’s almost too much, Jimin’s head slamming back against the wall as his eyes roll back into his head. And he’s about to come but—“Uuh, f-fuck…”
Yoongi’s hand grips at his base tight and unforgiving, stopping the orgasm which had been building up like a tidal wave from crashing through him. Jimin yanks Yoongi’s head back with the fingers he still has tangled in his dark locks, “You filthy fucking tease.”
There’s a dark mirth dancing in Yoongi’s eyes as he gazes up at him, pink tongue slipping out to wet his lower lip. His mouth hovers barely a centimetre away from Jimin’s cock, lips parted, waiting.
“You’re lucky you’re so pretty, sweetheart,” Jimin rasps, hand sliding through Yoongi’s hair to cup his cheek, thumb pressing against his bottom lip.
Yoongi grins, tongue flickering over Jimin’s thumb before he cocks his head, “Just thought you might prefer to be fucking my mouth when you come.” His voice is wrecked, deep and hoarse, and his words have Jimin’s cock twitching in the space between them.
“Yeah? Fuck, yeah, alright sweetheart. Open up, then.” Jimin uses his thumb to tug Yoongi’s lower lip down, watching as his mouth opens. He grips the base of his cock and guides himself between those swollen lips, a series of gasping moans escaping him as Yoongi groans around his length as it disappears between his lips. Jimin presses the fingers cupping Yoongi’s cheek until he can feel the shape of his cock as it sits in Yoongi’s mouth.
The red haze creeping into his peripheral is back once again in full force and after Yoongi nods ever so slightly to give Jimin the go ahead, it’s all the vampire can do not to lose himself in crimson-stained hunger as he rocks his hips into wet, velvet heat. The scent of tobacco and sweetgrass is steadily overpowering all of his senses and it takes the vampire a long moment to realise that the reason the musky scent is suddenly so intense is because the human on his knees before him is getting off on having Jimin fucking his mouth.
“Yes—fuck, yes,” Jimin cries out as he feels Yoongi’s throat constrict around the head of his cock, sees tears shimmering in his pretty eyes as he chokes and splutters. But even as Yoongi gags, his strong grip on Jimin’s hips continues encouraging him to thrust into his mouth, to bury himself in the back of Yoongi’s throat.
It’s so fucking hot. Jimin’s heart is pounding against his rib cage, his second canines throb and ache, his gut is clenching with every snap of his hips and the searing hit pleasure pulsing through him reaches almost unbearable heights. “O-oh, fuck—gonna come,” Jimin warns, feeling his climax building like the pull-back of a tidal wave.
Yoongi pulls off his length until only the tip remains between his utterly ruined lips and all it takes is a long, hard suck and Jimin is coming—spilling rope after rope of hot come down Yoongi’s throat. But Yoongi doesn’t stop, he swallows Jimin’s come and milks him dry, hand pumping and lips sucking until Jimin’s chest wracks with a sob at the over sensitivity.
Tears pool in the corners of his eyes as Yoongi’s fingers press against his perineum, teasing at crease of his ass. Jimin’s hips jerk forwards, his mind screaming a mixture of pleasure and pain as Yoongi teases him. “Please,” Jimin sobs, thighs trembling and knees almost giving out as something in him breaks, “please.”
Yoongi finally seems satisfied, pulling off Jimin’s red, sensitive cock with a grin on his lips. He opens his mouth to say something but Jimin is yanking him upright and crashing their mouths together before a single word leaves his lips. Jimin’s fangs catch on Yoongi’s swollen lips, a tiny prick of warm, sweet nectar finally blooming on the vampire’s tongue as his legs wrap around Yoongi’s hips once again.
The human lets Jimin suckle at the tiny incision on his lower lip as he carries him through the living space of the suite and into the bedroom. Jimin whines pitifully as he’s backed down onto the silk sheets, Yoongi’s lips and warm body no longer pressed against his own.
“It’s okay, doll. Let me undress you and I’ll be right back with you,” Yoongi’s hoarse voice calms Jimin in a way he isn’t used to, the deep rasp sending sweet, warm honey through his veins as his body relaxes. His slacks are pulled completely off his legs, and then his black lace panties follow—not without Yoongi telling Jimin how goddamn edible he looks in the pretty underwear and how he’d love to fuck him in them but doesn’t want to ruin them. Yoongi kisses up his stomach and chest as he unbuttons Jimin’s dress shirt, slipping the expensive fabric off Jimin’s shoulders as he presses a deep kiss against the vampire’s lips.
Soft whines are leaving Jimin’s lips, the needy side of the creature within him showing itself as he begs for another taste of Yoongi, pleads for him to come close again. He’s slightly dazed and for all of his age and experience, Jimin feels slightly like a newborn at how blood-drunk he feels from just the tiniest taste of Yoongi’s nectar on his lips.
Yoongi is crowding over him only a few moments later and then it’s skin against skin and Jimin’s back arches off the bed—desperate to feel Yoongi pressing against, pressing inside him. “So pretty,” Yoongi murmurs as he runs his hands up Jimin’s thighs, over the rise and fall of his stomach muscles as Jimin’s breathing quickens. “Look at you, so gorgeous, babydoll—all laid out for me.”
Jimin whimpers, hands clutching at Yoongi’s shoulders as he leans down to press their mouths together. It takes barely a hint of Yoongi’s tongue against Jimin’s lips for Jimin to fall pliant—moaning softly as Yoongi curls their tongues together. There’s a gentle nudge at Jimin’s thighs and then Yoongi is slotting himself between them.
“Mm,” Yoongi groans as he grinds their crotches together, “fuck.”
Jimin’s fingers tangle into his hair, tugging lightly at his dark locks as he sucks Yoongi’s lower lip into his mouth. The tiny beads of blood from the small incision is enough to have him moaning incessantly, the slow kiss heating up into something messier, something which has Jimin’s soft, spent dick feebly trying to fatten back to life.
The sensation of Yoongi’s cock sliding against the crease of his inner thigh just a few inches from his own has his abdomen clenching, heat starting to coil in his gut. It might be Jimin’s Carnal nature which shortens his refractory period but the vampire has a feeling that he’s never felt his body start to ready itself again after such an intense orgasm as quickly as it’s trying to now. With sweetgrass filling his lungs and blood pooling in his tongue, Jimin feels like Yoongi is calling to the Carnal within him, is reaching deep inside him and pulling the predator within free from its restraints.
However, where Jimin’s three main feeders knew what was expected, knew their roles in giving Jimin the pleasure he needed after a lengthy discussion, Yoongi didn’t seem like he needed to be told—he just knew. The way he had made sure Jimin had come once before taking things further than a blow job, made sure to work him into oversensitivity to make him needy and pliant before rewarding him with just enough blood to have his mind slipping into a satiated haze.
Underestimating the true predatory nature of a vampire is usually the root cause of any violence and dangerous situations which arose between vampires and their feeders. But Yoongi, subtly, had taken control of the situation as soon as they had first locked lips on the couch. And Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t find that blatantly attractive.
Another high, embarrassingly needy whine leaves Jimin as Yoongi separates their mouths. He grips Yoongi’s hair and lifts off the bed slightly to chase after his soft lips, to chase the sweetness of his blood on his tongue.
“Babydoll,” Yoongi chuckles huskily against his mouth, kissing him once, “be good for me, hm? Let me take care of you, yeah?”
Jimin steals one last kiss before he sinks back into the silk bed sheets, body trembling as Yoongi licks and nips and kisses his way down his neck and chest. He brushes his fingers lightly over Jimin’s pert nipples as his mouth trails lower and lower—Jimin twitching up into the touch, wanting more. “Ahhh,” he hisses as Yoongi pinches his left nipple, flicking the bud lightly before doing the same to his right nipple. “Yoongi, I… p-please, need more.”
Yoongi nuzzles at the fuzzy trail of hair leading down from his belly button to his crotch, chuckling quietly again, “Patience, pretty baby.”
But Jimin is losing his patience and as blood rushes south, following the path Yoongi’s talented mouth has left down his body; he can feel himself starting to get restless. As though he can sense the slight change in Jimin’s demeanour, Yoongi is suddenly hoisting Jimin’s legs over his shoulders and running his hands down the backs of Jimin’s thighs towards his ass.
“Oh… yes, yes—please,” Jimin squirms, gasping for breath as Yoongi’s fingers grip the supple flesh of his asscheeks.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Jimin.” Yoongi groans, turning his head to press open-mouthed kisses into the flushed skin of Jimin’s thighs. “What do you want, babydoll?”
Jimin keens, still dazed from the small about of blood Yoongi had let him have, the sweet taste of it lingering in his mouth as he runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. He knows what he wants though, having felt Yoongi’s mouth work its magic on his cock, he desperately needs to feel his tongue working him open. But he’s struggling to find the words, struggling to bring his mind out of the blood-drunk haze he’s already sinking into.
Luckily, Yoongi seems to realise Jimin is slipping into a headspace where words are hard to find. He nips at Jimin’s inner thigh again, his hand gently coaxing Jimin’s cock back to life as he soothes the slight bite with a lap of his tongue. “Do you want my mouth, Jimin-ah?”
“Yes,” Jimin gasps, breathless.
“You want my mouth here, sweetling?” Yoongi parts Jimin’s cheeks, his breath ghosting over Jimin’s fluttering hole.
“Yes,” Jimin rocks his hips, pushing his ass closer to Yoongi’s face, “oh, p-please.”
And Yoongi doesn’t need much more than that before he dives right in.
Jimin can’t control the way he shamelessly grinds his ass into Yoongi’s face for more at the first tease of his lips and tongue over the sensitive skin of his rim, and he’s hardly in the right headspace to find the needy noises escaping him embarrassing in the slightest. Yoongi’s tongue teases at his entrance as his hand not holding up Jimin’s thigh starts to stroke his cock again. The scent of tobacco increases and Jimin’s head drops back onto the mattress as Yoongi breaches his rim, tongue curling inside him.
It’s so hot and wet and filthy and Jimin can barely breathe—everything is red and hazy and heady and he’s drowning in it.
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to settle into a rhythm as Jimin falls apart beneath him, tongue thrusting and curling and lips sucking and mouth slurping and—fuck, Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone quite like Yoongi between his legs before. With a tight roll of his hips, Jimin encourages Yoongi to tongue-fuck him faster, to give him more, to give him what he so desperately desires. “Yoongi,” Jimin gasps, the human’s tongue deep within him, spearing him open all hot and wet, “oh, Yoongi…”
And if it wasn’t hot enough to have Jimin’s cock leaking all over his abdomen already, Yoongi moans against his clenching hole, the sound vibrating through Jimin right to his very core.
His back arches off the bed, his thighs tightening around Yoongi’s neck and shoulders as he all but screams in pleasure. “Oh—fuuuuck,” Jimin cries out, hands fisting in the silk sheets beneath him in an attempt to ground himself as his body trembles.
And then Yoongi slides a finger inside him, all the way to the knuckle right alongside his tongue and Jimin sobs, thrusting his ass into Yoongi’s face, trying to feel more, needing more. As Yoongi replaces his talented tongue with a second finger, Jimin begins to earnestly fuck himself on his digits, losing himself in the hot arousal pulsing through him.
“God, Jimin,” Yoongi growls into his skin, nipping his asscheek, “Jesus, so eager. Want me inside you, babydoll? Want me to fuck you, make you mine, yeah?”
Jimin whines, fangs throbbing, stomach tightening, ass clenching, “Fuck, sweet—ah, sweetheart… yes, please—oh, fuck me.”
And Yoongi doesn’t waste any time, taking Jimin’s aching cock back into his mouth as he works a third finger inside him—curling them just right so he hits that spot inside Jimin which has him practically jackknifing off the bed sheets as molten hot pleasure rockets through him.
“Now,” Jimin growls, feeling the creature within crawling up out of his throat and speaking more the words more than himself, “fuck me now.”
“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, feeling the low rumble of Jimin’s growl vibrating through him as he pulls his fingers out of the vampire’s greedy little hole. He shuffles backwards just enough to get the angle right before he’s crowding back over Jimin’s body and leaning down to press their mouths together in a searing kiss. As the head of his dick nudges at Jimin’s rim, he places two fingers against Jimin’s lips, “Suck.”
Jimin moans, taking the two fingers into his mouth just as Yoongi starts to press inside him. And, oh if the burn of the stretch isn’t the most delicious sensation as Jimin sucks and licks over his fingers—fangs grazing over the knuckles just enough to tease at breaking the skin, but not enough pressure to make an incision.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck,” Yoongi groans, face buried in Jimin’s neck as he slowly works his hips, gradually slipping deeper inside him. “You’re… so fucking t-tight, baby, shit.”
A sharp cry rises in Jimin’s throat, muffled by the fingers in his mouth, as Yoongi finally bottoms out. He feels so full, fuller than he thinks he ever has been. And it’s so good, it’s so fucking good Jimin doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. When Yoongi starts to grind his hips, working his cock inside him, Jimin can feel his walls clenching, trying to keep the man’s cock buried as deep inside him as physically possible.
There’s lips and teeth on his bared throat and Jimin is stuffed full, forced to breath through his nose as he starts to thrust back against Yoongi, encouraging the man to fuck him harder, faster—the way he wants it, the way he needs it.
The moving of his own hips seems to be what pushes Yoongi over the edge, the man suddenly grabbing Jimin by the hips and flipping them over, leaving Jimin straddling his waist, still impaled on his huge cock. A gasp of shock leaves Jimin’s mouth but it morphs quickly into one of pure, unadulterated pleasure as the change in angle has Yoongi’s cock buried even deeper inside him.
“Ride me, babydoll,” Yoongi husks, hands slipping off Jimin’s hips to his ass, gripping the flesh there as he rolls his hips up.
Jimin moans, head tipping back as he follows the movement through with his own body, rocking his hips slowly before he finds a rhythm. Each grind has the head of Yoongi’s dick brushing his prostate and Jimin feels so fucking good he could cry. It’s not long before he’s bouncing on Yoongi’s cock, the hands on his ass helping him as he uses Yoongi’s chest to support his body.
The wet slap of Jimin’s ass meeting Yoongi’s hips fills the room, obscene and filthy, and the muted slap is soon joined by a loud smack as Yoongi’s palm lands a series of hard spanks on Jimin’s bouncing cheeks. The sound which leaves Jimin’s lips at each smack is so broken and so needy he barely recognises it as his own. Never before has he been reduced to such a wreck in such a short space of time with someone he hasn’t spent at least three feedings with.
“Ah—ahhh, Yoongi, fuck me,” he sobs, fingertips digging into the firm muscles of Yoongi’s pectorals as he loses himself. As the heat between them increases with every snap of Yoongi’s hips, with every roll and drop of Jimin’s in his lap, all Jimin can smell is the arousal pouring of the human beneath him. It’s musky, rich—heady. Jimin wants to taste it on his tongue, wants it to fill his mouth with its sweetness until Yoongi comes deep inside him.
Yoongi moans, low and deep, and Jimin can hear his heartbeat pounding, his blood roaring through him as he groans out curses and praises the vampire above him, “S-so good for me, baby—shit, could fuck you all night.”
The thought of feeding is suddenly all-consuming, Jimin’s crimson gaze zeroing in on the arch of Yoongi’s neck, the pulse of his artery as the cord of his throat strains. A bead of sweat glistens as it trails down his neck and Jimin can’t help himself as he leans right over Yoongi’s chest to delve his tongue into the dip of Yoongi’s throat where the sweat has started to pool. It’s all salt and sweetgrass and Yoongi.
His hips slow down, unable to concentrate on anything but the intensity of Yoongi’s scent right there in the crook of his neck. A cry tears from his lips when Yoongi’s hands grip his ass again, using the leverage to bounce Jimin on his cock as he thrusts up into him—hard, fast, and utterly unforgiving. The arousal coursing through him is reaching the edge of a dangerous cliff; Jimin’s predator instinct rising up from within as the intense need to feed continues to build and build towards a crescendo of dark, desperate pleasure.
“Oh, please,” Jimin sobs into his skin, lips brushing over the pulsing artery, “Yoongi—please.”
“Shit,” Yoongi flips them over, pressing Jimin down against the sheets as he pounds into him, “you g-gonna come again for me, doll?”
It’s nearing the point of overwhelming, the amount of pleasure Jimin’s body is receiving as Yoongi fucks him within an inch of his life. And there’s no way Jimin is going to last much longer when every hard snap of Yoongi’s hips has his cock brushing his sweet spot.
“Yoongi,” Jimin breathes, “n-need to… I need to—”
Before he can finish saying the words, Yoongi’s hand is suddenly buried in his hair, yanking Jimin’s head back and licking a stripe up the long column of his throat, “Need to bite me, baby?”
Jimin writhes against him, straining under the pressure of his body, the grip on his hair, the sensation of his cock, thick and pulsing inside him—“Yes.”
Yoongi bares his neck, guiding Jimin with the hand in his hair and he moans filthy encouragements as Jimin’s lips brush against the sweaty-slicked skin there, “So good for me. B-bite me, baby. Mark me.”
And Jimin does just that, sinking his aching fangs into the soft skin of his throat, feeling the pulsing artery there throb under the pressure of his lips and teeth and tongue as hot, sweet, heady blood fills his mouth. As his venom seeps into Yoongi’s veins, the man’s hips stutter and he cries out, broken and loud as he reaches his climax—his cock pulsing as it spills rope after rope of come deep inside Jimin.
Their hips still move together as Jimin moans and whimpers through the blood pooling on his tongue, taking his fill as Yoongi pants his name over and over into his ear. And Jimin is so hard, he’s so close to climaxing, he just needs something more, something he can’t articulate until he swallows and gasps and—“Bite me.”
Yoongi’s breath hitches, his lips brushing Jimin’s jaw as he lifts himself slightly to meet Jimin’s eyes, “W-what?”
Jimin throws his head back, writhing beneath him as he feebly tries to fuck himself on Yoongi’s cock whilst Yoongi’s body pins his own to the sheets below, “Fuck, pleasepleaseplease—fucking bite me.”
And Jimin can hear the desperation in his own voice, can feel the monster in him howling for release now it had had its full of Yoongi’s delicious, sweet nectar.
Yoongi hesitates for a moment longer before he’s leaning down, nosing at the dip of Jimin’s throat and then—
“Uuhhhhhh,” Jimin screams, pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt before crashes through him, his entire body stiffening with the force of his orgasm as it hits like a tidal wave. Yoongi’s teeth sink into his neck, marking him, and Jimin releases spurts of hot come all over Yoongi’s chest, all over his stomach—some of it landing on his own chin as his muscles lock.
When Jimin comes round, Yoongi has cleaned them both up and he’s curled up on his side as Yoongi climbs back onto the bed. The red haze to his vision has disappeared, the itch inside him to feed has been sated completely.
“Wow,” Yoongi breathes as Jimin blinks up at him, exhausted and bleary-eyed.
“Hm?” Jimin mumbles, reaching for him.
Yoongi shuffles close, laying down beside him and tugs Jimin onto his chest, stroking a hand through his hair, “Your eyes, Jimin. They’re gold.”
Jimin gasps, sitting bolt upright, suddenly very much awake, “W-what?”
There’s a frown creasing Yoongi’s brow as he slowly sits up, hands finding Jimin’s waist and pulling him close as if subconsciously hating the distance Jimin’s sudden movement had put between their bare skin, “What’s wrong? You look beautiful.”
Jimin blinks, gazing at him with something strangely warm and thick and sweet creeping its way into his chest and wrapping around the slow, steady beat of his half-dead heart. “You’re sure? That they’re gold, I mean?”
Yoongi cups his cheek, angling his face slightly upwards, “Yeah, definitely.”
“Wow,” Jimin breathes, climbing into Yoongi’s lap and pressing their mouths together, still tasting him on his tongue. They part with a soft wet sound and Jimin ducks his head, nuzzling into the human’s neck and breathing him in. “That’s never happened to me before.”
“Hm,” Yoongi’s hands stroke his back, teasing a little over the swell of his ass, “what does it mean?”
Jimin bites his lip, kissing the marks his fangs had left on Yoongi’s throat before pulling back to look Yoongi straight in the eye, “It means, sweetheart, you tamed the beast within.”
Yoongi chokes on a light scoff, “What?”
“You sated my hunger completely,” Jimin says quietly against his lips, “I might not need to feed from another human for a decade.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says.
Jimin kisses him again, rolling his hips a little in his lap, just enough to tease, “Yeah, ‘oh’. I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you go after this, Min Yoongi. It’s safe to say, you’ve positively ruined me for any other feeder.”
Yoongi grips his ass, tugging him closer until they’re pressed flush against one another, “I’m not sure I want you to let me go.”
“Good,” Jimin giggles, kissing him hard.
And it’s so good, Jimin can’t quite believe his luck.
Not even years later, when Yoongi finally presses his own fangs into Jimin’s neck and claims him as his own.