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you got the peaches, i got the cream

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As an incubus, it’s in Jimin’s nature to seek out men and women to sleep with, sink his claws into them and indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. He feeds from their sexual energy and even though Seokjin says that he and Taehyung shouldn’t have to feed more than once a week, he doesn’t agree. He loves sex; not just because he’s an incubus, but because of the pleasure and the excitement he gets out of it. Two days a week is much more manageable than one, and three is even better (especially when the college students are on their holiday breaks.)


He and Taehyung usually hunt in pairs, but tonight, they’ve decided to hunt separately. Seokjin is out of town and the apartment is free to use and they plan on taking advantage of that. Seokjin can’t tell them what to do for once.


Which is why they’re in some club in Gangnam, socializing and flirting with anyone who catches their interest. Lust buzzes in the air, in the crowd on the dance floor and the people gathered around the bar. It’s common for him and Taehyung to take apart their prey together, but tonight they’re selfish, want someone all to themselves now that Seokjin is out of town. Taehyung fixes himself to the bar but Jimin flutters about the club, unabashedly grinding up against anyone he smells who holds interest for him, but it turns out the crowd is too wild tonight and he’ll have to be on the prowl. They won’t be coming to him; he’ll have to come to them .


After no success on the dance floor, Jimin gravitates to the bar, where he leans up against it and glances over at Taehyung down the way. He’s scanning the crowd, searching, but Jimin is going to take a break and knock back a few drinks before he tries again. He rakes his dark hair off his forehead and adjusts how his shirt is tucked into his waistband before the bartender comes over.


Reaching for his wallet, Jimin smiles at the bartender. “Busy night?” he asks, a lilt in his voice as he slides a bill across the counter. “A blowjob, please.”


The bartender accepts the bills with a puzzled smile but Jimin’s smile only grows wider when their eyes meet.


“The shot. Not. . . an actual blowjob, though I wouldn’t mind that either.”


His voice is a silky purr, fingers tapping against the bar as he holds the bartender in place, frozen, with his gaze. There’s an instant spike of arousal from the bartender and it lingers even as Jimin releases him to go make the drink. Jimin’s eyes wander over the man’s backside before he disappears behind the counter.


“Humans are so easy to manipulate,” the incubus mumbles with a half-hearted sigh, propping his head up with his hand. All he’s done is embarrass the bartender and make him flustered, but it was worth it. Even if he won’t be climbing into Jimin’s bed, at least he’ll have a fantasy to work with tonight when he’s home and hands-free.


The bartender comes back with his drink and Jimin coos when he spots the red flush on his cheeks. It’s with another smile that he bids the man goodbye before he picks up the glass and swallows it in one go, licking over his lips to rid of any leftover whipped cream, setting the glass down on the counter. His eyes shift over to Taehyung’s location.


He’s talking to someone, a man about his height with bleached blonde hair and a tall boy at his side. Taehyung’s clearly showing interest in the tall one, but Jimin’s eyes are locked on the one his height. His eyes remind Jimin of a cat and from what he can hear, his voice is low, raspy, and his hands are large and perfect when he holds up his phone. What’s his voice like in bed? If his hands are crisscrossed with veins, then what else is as beautiful? His hands are large and Jimin gnaws on his lip when he thinks about what those hands could do to him, thighs squeezing together tightly as his imagination runs rampant.


Jimin wants him; no, needs him. Needs him badly.


In the next moment, Taehyung is left alone with his prey and the blonde is heading in Jimin’s direction. He’s not letting him go. If he can lure even the strongest men, then surely he can ensnare this one.


The incubus slips away from the bar and takes the opportunity to drift closer to the blonde. He stops to stare at his phone, most likely looking for someone, and Jimin stumbles forward into his shoulder to grab his attention.


“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jimin fake apologizes, but it sounds just as believable as a real apology. He straightens, putting a hand against the man’s arm to steady himself. “Someone must have bumped me.”


“S’okay,” the blonde grumbles, not even bothering to look up from the glow of his phone screen, and that makes Jimin a little irritated.


“Are you. . . looking for someone?”


“Yea. My friend. Big tall blonde guy. Undercut. Probably wearing something atrocious.” Still no eye contact.


“Haven’t seen em,” Jimin responds, hands sliding from the man’s arm. “But I’m looking for my friend too.”


The blonde finally blinks up, pupils shrinking back down in the dim club lighting. He looks Jimin over once, but there's no tell tale flare of arousal that spikes the air. “You lost?”


Jimin’s mouth twitches but he shakes his head. “No, but it seems like we’ve both lost our friends. Mine’s also tall and blonde, but he wouldn’t be wearing something atrocious. Guess we’re looking for similar people?”


It's hard to catch, but Jimin sees the quick upturn of the blonde’s mouth before it flattens back out: neutral. His phone pings, a message notification flashing across the screen that makes him grumble. “God fuckin’ dammit, Joon, seriously. . .” Those long, pale fingers quickly tap out a reply, and then he’s clicking the screen off and pocketing the device and mumbling to himself. “Asshole went to the wrong damn club, I can’t believe— on Jeongguk’s birthday. . .”


“Jeongguk? Is that your friend at the bar?”


Jimin casts a glance back but he can’t see Taehyung or Jeongguk due to the crowd. “You’re a good hyung then, coming to the right club. I’m sure he’s drunk and doesn’t know your other friend is missing.”


“I’m a shit hyung,” the blonde says with a laugh, tugging on the edge of his beanie with one hand. “I already let the kid get pretty wasted. He’s over at the bar—” As he speaks, his eyes narrow, looking off to where he'd left Jeongguk: now an empty space. “Oh fuck me.”


Jimin bites his lips to hold back a chuckle. Taehyung’s swept Jeongguk right off his feet, giving Jimin the perfect opportunity for him to snatch this blonde. He still has to arouse the blonde in some way, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about the birthday boy getting in his way.


“Did you leave him alone?” he asks. “I’m sure he’s fine, probably off dancing or going to the bathroom. If he’s old enough to be in this club, then he should be alright on his own.”


His target still looks worried. Even though Jimin can't see them through his fringe, he imagines the blonde’s eyebrows scrunching together above his nose. “I still gotta look for him. Shouldn't have left him with that other kid.”


The blonde steps around Jimin, giving him a hooded look over his shoulder. “Hope you find your friend.”


“Wait,” Jimin calls, following after the blonde. “How about I buy you a drink? We can wait around at the bar, see if our friends show up.”


Jimin likes the feeling of the other man’s eyes on him, and this time there's a flicker of something in his cat-like eyes, something that Jimin knows he can exploit. It’s not often he has to work this hard for his prey, but the chase is exhilarating.


“Yea,” he finally says, in a low drawl. “Why not?”




Jimin walks with him back to the bar, both of them squeezing into a spot they can both fit in. The incubus takes out his wallet and places bills on the counter for both of them, sending the blonde a smile he knows is captivating.


“Get whatever you want, it’s on me.”


There's another small, nearly imperceptible quirk to his target’s pretty mouth. “Whiskey. On the rocks.”


When a different bartender than the first swings by, Jimin tells her what the blonde wants. “And a sex on the beach for me, please,” he hums, leaning into the bar as she goes to make their drinks. It isn’t until they have their drinks does he strike up conversation.


“So what’s your name?”


I’ll need to know the name I’ll be screaming later.


“I’m Jimin.”


“Yoongi. Min Yoongi,” is the reply as Yoongi’s hands reach for the glass tumbler with amber liquid sloshing amongst the icecubes. “You see your friend anywhere?”


Jimin takes a sip of his drink and sets the glass down, turning his head to scan over the crowd. Seokjin is never going to show up, but hopefully Yoongi forgets eventually. “No, I don’t.” He returns his gaze to Yoongi. “What about yours? Did you try texting him?”


Yoongi’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a large gulp of liquor, letting the glass rest on the counter as he fumbles for his phone. When he gets it out one-handed, there's a few notifications, one of which is from “jeongguk-ah”. “Aish, this kid,” he grumbles, thumbing out a quick response. “I bring him out and he repays his hyung by abandoning him.”


“Maybe it’s for the best?”


Because now Jimin is free to lure Yoongi into his bed, without the blonde being distracted by his friends. Yoongi finishes the rest of his whiskey, letting the ice cubes clink together as he swirls them around. “Yea? Why? You expecting me to buy you a drink now or something?”


Smiling, Jimin takes out his phone and pretends to check his messages. Yoongi can’t see it, but it’s believable enough. He pockets his phone and promptly downs the rest of his drink before picking up the conversation.


“My friend isn’t coming after all. Yours is off somewhere, so why don’t we have fun together? We’ll buy our own drinks, how about that. I came to have a good time, but not by myself.”


“Tch,” Yoongi scoffs, flagging the bartender back over with a raise of his hands. “I’ll get you another fruity drink, but there's no guarantee that you'll have a good time with me.”


Jimin folds one leg over the other and beams at Yoongi. “Then it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”




They’re several drinks in when they hit the dance floor. Jimin’s gradually pretended that he’s tipsy, becoming giggly and more of a loose cannon, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t know that incubi can’t get drunk, and Jimin is a excellent actor. There’s something inside him that wants to dance, now that he has his target, and the minimal amount of arousal and interest in Yoongi isn’t enough for Jimin to lure him in completely. So, maybe dancing will do the trick.


Yoongi’s loosened up at this point and he doesn’t argue much when he’s dragged on to the dance floor, thrown in the sea of bodies and the pounding bass.


“Can you dance?” Jimin asks over the music, letting go of Yoongi’s wrists once they’re in a good position. But he invades the blonde’s personal space, shimmying closer to keep up his “nearly drunk” facade. “If you can’t, s’okay.”


Yoongi shrugs, lets Jimin rest hands on his shoulders without flinching. His cheeks are a little pink, probably from all the whiskey and maybe the heat of so many bodies pushed together. With a little bit of coaxing from Jimin, he slowly sways his hips but with nowhere near the amount of grace and sensuality Jimin possesses.


It’s with one arm gently looped around Yoongi’s neck does Jimin begin to smell the increasing arousal burning from Yoongi. Jimin grinds once against Yoongi, one leg placed between the blonde’s thighs, lips turning into a smile when he hears the sharp intake of breath in front of his face. Their eyes meet when Jimin grinds a second time, this time swaying his hips to the music.


He has to do a bit of coaxing to get Yoongi’s hands on his body: one spans the curve of his waist and the other rests across his hip with the pad of Yoongi’s thumb pressing against his hipbone. The air around them thickens, and Jimin tightens his own grip around Yoongi’s neck, forcing the blonde close enough that he can feel every ragged inhale and exhale, how every time his body rolls there's another spike of pleasure that whets his appetite.


The pleasure radiating from Yoongi is feeding Jimin, but he craves more. He has yet to reveal his intentions, but Yoongi isn’t ignoring his advances, not even when their noses almost brush when they grind together. Jimin’s flirtatious, seductive, knows when to bite his lip and how to roll his hips to have Yoongi responding positively. Jimin’s so close to going one step further, the step that will have Yoongi ensnared in his trap for the night. It’s when their lips come an inch away from meeting does Jimin think he has the opportunity to kiss the human, inject him with his aphrodisiac venom, and he leans in at what he believes to be the right moment, but the club lights flash and Yoongi pulls away a second too soon.


Jimin has never been more upset about last call in his entire existence.


Yoongi blinks as some of the lights come up, the spell broken. His skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat and Jimin wants to lick it off his collarbones. “C’mon, I don't like shoving out with the crowd.”


The warmth of Yoongi’s hand stays firmly around Jimin’s waist, guiding him off the dance floor as people flock to the bar for one last drink. “You live far?” Yoongi asks, voice gruff against the shell of Jimin’s ear. “I can make sure you get a cab.”


The incubus shivers involuntarily at their closeness, at the roughness in Yoongi’s voice. “Not far,” he replies, stumbling over his own two feet to fake being tipsy, latching on to Yoongi as they shuffle out the club doors. “Wanna share the ride?”


“You sure?” Yoongi tightens his grip around Jimin’s waist, letting the incubus twine his arms around his neck for support as they step outside. “I don't mind getting my own.”


Jimin shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Why spend money on two? You can come in my apartment, if you want, think I’ve got some whiskey somewhere. . .”


He has to get Yoongi inside the apartment, one way or another. If worse comes to worse, Jimin will take matters into his own hands.


“The last thing either of us needs is whiskey,” Yoongi chuckles, raising his free arm to wave down a cab. It pulls up and Yoongi manages to get the back door open, helping Jimin inside before climbing in behind him. Jimin fumbles in the cab in the backseat and lazily tells the driver his address, buckling himself in as Yoongi gives his address. There’s space between them and Jimin reminds himself to keep his hands off until they reach his apartment.


“I have a friend that lives pretty close to you,” Yoongi comments as the cab driver pulls away from the curb. He’s reclined back against the seat, head tipped back.


“Yeah? You don't live that far, either.”


“Doubt my place is as nice as yours.”


Jimin’s head rolls as he looks at Yoongi. “Whaddya mean by that?” He slurs, straightening in his seat. “I live with two guys, s’not the prettiest.”


From what Jimin has gathered, Yoongi cares a lot more for people than he lets on. He's someone that puts on the front of “I don't give a fuck”, but underneath is someone with a good heart. And Jimin thoroughly intends on exploiting that. When they pull up to the front of Jimin’s apartment complex, he fumbles with the car door in an exaggerated fashion that has Yoongi staring.


“Are you. . . can you make it to your place okay?”


Nudging the door open, Jimin steps out with one foot, almost hitting his head on the roof of the car on his way out. “Hm? Oh, yea, totally. I gotta walk up some stairs but. . . I'll be fine.” He stumbles out of the car door and holds on to the door for balance while he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “Um, how much? For the ride.”


Yoongi grunts, already has his wallet in hand and he presses several bills into the cab driver’s hand. “I got it. You’re not fine. You’ll crack your damn head open on the sidewalk, lightweight. I’ll walk you up.”


Jimin blinks in surprise, but inside he's bubbling with excitement. He waits by the cab door until Yoongi gets out and meets him, gently shutting the door. “I'm not that much of a lightweight,” the incubus grumbles, steeling himself on both feet with Yoongi's palm against the small of his back to keep him steady.


“Says the idiot that almost fell out of the car.”


Yoongi’s hand is warm, even through layers of clothing or maybe it's just because Jimin has spent so long working himself up over this that now this simple touch has him nearly vibrating. It’s easy enough to get up to the apartment that Jimin shares with Taehyung and Seokjin: one of two penthouse apartments on the top level. He fumbles with the keys and giggles about it, nearly jumping out of his skin when Yoongi places his hand over Jimin’s to get the key in the door. It’s unlocked and they step inside, Jimin lazily kicking off his shoes and stumbling once more as he walks further into the apartment.


“M’gonna. . . lay on the couch,” Jimin slurs to Yoongi, carefully making his way into the living room. Glass windows surround the penthouse, floor to ceiling, overlooking Seoul’s nightlife down below. It’s an expensive apartment, but Seokjin works a very generous paying job and doesn’t mind looking after Taehyung and Jimin; after all, they have to have a nice lair for their prey.


Once Jimin’s flopped down on the couch, arm thrown over his face, Yoongi enters the living room. The incubus groans and shifts. “Fuckin. . . alcohol.”


“You want water and aspirin or something before I go?” Yoongi’s clearly enamoured by the place. His shoes are off his feet. How polite.


Peeking over his forearm, Jimin nods. “Please. Don’t think I’m getting up anytime soon. Should be aspirin in the kitchen, top left shelf above the sink.”


The blonde shuffles away and after a moment Jimin can hear the clink of a glass being set on the counter, the faucet running, and the sound of a cabinet door opening and closing. Not even two minutes pass before he hears Yoongi making his way out of the kitchen, sees him holding a glass of water in one hand and his other curled fist must house the aspirin.


“Here,” Yoongi says, voice gruff as he sets the water down on the coffee table, extends his other hand and opens it, palm up, to show two white pills nestled in his palm. “Take these and drink all that water, then you can sleep.”


Removing his arm and slowly sitting up, Jimin blinks at Yoongi’s outstretched palm and the aspirin he holds. “Thanks,” he mumbles, extending his hand out to grab the pills. But, he has different intentions once he grabs the pills. With his other hand, he latches on to Yoongi’s arm and tosses the pills aside, twisting his body and throwing Yoongi into the couch. The blonde makes a noise in the back of his throat and he stares up at Jimin with wide eyes when he grins.


“I have never spent so long trying to get someone in my trap,” Jimin explains, laughing as he plants his hands on Yoongi’s chest and pushes him back into the couch. He swings one leg over his hip and straddles him, seated on his stomach.


Yoongi’s mouth is open like a fish, but he closes it with a quick click of his jaw. His eyes narrow, which makes them look even more cat-like than before. “You’re not— you little shit, you played me.”


“I did play you, all the way from square one. The second I saw you, I knew I had to try and get you in bed, and I’m surprised this worked.”


Jimin leans down, palms on Yoongi’s chest, beaming down at the blonde with bright eyes, though lust is veiled behind them. “But can you blame me? I could smell your arousal before we started dancing, and I just wanted to exploit it. You’re very kind, kind enough to ride in a cab with me and come into my apartment, so let me repay you, hm?” His fingers trail upwards to Yoongi’s collar, dancing along his neck before he taps Yoongi’s chin and then the swell of his lower lip. “I haven’t been this excited in a while. When I saw you, I couldn’t help but think about what you could do to me. Even now, it. . . it has me on fire.


He watches Yoongi’s pupils dilate, feels his hands twitch where they're pinned under Jimin’s legs. At some point in the scuffle Yoongi’s beanie slipped off his head, leaving his messy bleached hair falling over his forehead. “You could have just asked nicely. You don't even know if I’m a good fuck.”


“That’s not how we work, sweetheart,” Jimin coos, and he can sense that his glamour is beginning to fade now that he has his target. “Oh, I do, trust me. I wouldn’t have sought you out if I had any doubt that you weren’t a good fuck.”


Leaning in closer, his face hovers over Yoongi’s, their lips just an inch away. “How about we quit the chatter and get started on what we both want?”


The human doesn't even bother trying to deny it, and even if he did, Jimin knows it'd be a lie . The heady scent of Yoongi’s arousal fills the space between their mouths.


“Oh shit ,” Yoongi mumbles, blinking in realization. “You’re a—”




A smug smile sits on Jimin’s lips. “Have you never fucked one before?”


Slowly, Yoongi mirrors the same smug expression. “Wouldn't you like to know.”


Jimin hopes to wipe off Yoongi’s smug expression when their lips collide, Jimin tilting Yoongi’s head up for better access, teeth sinking into Yoongi’s lower lip to tug on the soft flesh. A little moan escapes Jimin. Yoongi is delicious. It isn’t terribly difficult for him to coax Yoongi to part his lips; he needs Yoongi to swallow his venom so that he can feed.


“Relax,” the incubus breathes into Yoongi’s mouth before diving in once more and sliding his tongue across the blonde’s lips, aphrodisiac-laced saliva already streaming into Yoongi’s system from their kiss. It will take a moment for Yoongi to feel the full effects, but his pulse skyrockets and his skin flushes, crawling pink up the side of his neck when Jimin pulls back. He can feel Yoongi’s core muscles tense, the barely perceivable kick of his hips.


Their lips are slick, shining in the dim light, and Jimin gnaws on his upper lip. His thighs involuntarily squeeze together, squeezing Yoongi’s waist in the process. The blonde shifts on the couch, pupils almost fully dilated.


“We’re going to do this my way, yes?”


The noise Yoongi makes in reply is dismissive, maybe even a little challenging. “You’re the one on top. Let’s see how long it stays that way.”


Brows pinching, Jimin leans back and tips his head to the side. Yoongi lets out a startled gasp when Jimin grabs his groin and palms him through his jeans. “I’ll stay on top for as long as I want to stay on top. You won’t be able to make it any different.”


Yoongi bears his teeth, hands clenching into fists under Jimin’s thighs and he thrashes once. The spike of want that Jimin inhales makes him dizzy, makes his lashes flutter at the teasing little sample of what's to come. For all his fight, Yoongi is still human, still wanted Jimin before swallowing his venom, and now Jimin has him right where he wants him.


It’s not often someone is as defiant, as dominant as Yoongi. Even before a kiss, most of Jimin’s prey are relatively docile, pliant, and all too willing to give. The challenge only turns him on, spurs Jimin into grinding back until the curve of his ass presses slow against the growing bulge in the front of Yoongi’s ripped jeans.


As Jimin grinds in Yoongi’s lap, hips swiveling just like they were when they were dancing, he works on the belt around his waist. It comes loose and Jimin pauses for a moment to grab the hem of Yoongi’s shirt and tug it over his head. Because Yoongi has to raise his arms anyways, Jimin takes advantage of that. The shirt is tossed aside and Jimin snatches both of Yoongi’s hands, placing one over the other as he loops the belt around his wrists. Yoongi jerks and swears loudly once he realizes he’s being restrained, but Jimin is already tugging on the double knot to secure the belt.


The incubus smiles and drops Yoongi’s hands so they’re on the armrest of the couch. “Did I forget to mention that I can see what a human is into just by kissing them? I know being restrained isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about, but I’m on top and I can’t have you flipping the tables before I’ve even started.”


“Yea?” Yoongi growls and the tone of his voice sends a white hot spike of pleasure between Jimin’s legs. “One kiss and you know all my kinks, huh?”


The human’s arms rest over his head, dropping there is the most comfortable position with his knuckles grazing the armrest of the couch. The belt squeaks under the pressure of Yoongi twisting his wrists, testing how secure Jimin made the binds. He stops squirming when Jimin palms him again, this time harder, hissing between his teeth.


“I’m looking forward to them.”


Jimin winks, raising up on his knees as he peels his shirt off his body and tosses it aside. Yoongi’s hot gaze is on him as he begins to strip off his jeans. Incubi forgo underwear most of the time and Jimin is no different.


“I want to sit on your face. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”


The corners of Jimin’s lips are slightly upturned, his cock springing up against his belly, already oozing precum. “I self lubricate too, makes the process faster and the sex better.”


Yoongi goes very still at that revelation, but judging from the next wave of lust that Jimin inhales, the way Yoongi’s dark eyes rake over his body with hunger, the human doesn't mind in the least. “Gonna make yourself cum on my tongue? Can't even wait until I get my dick in you, slut .”


At the namecalling, Jimin shivers. Yoongi’s bold, and that has white hot pleasure simmering low in his belly.


“I have you all to myself, I’m not going to waste my time,” Jimin replies, swinging both legs over Yoongi so he can stand. The human’s eyes watch him, watch him as he settles back down on Yoongi’s chest, this time facing away. When he settles down, his glamour gives way, and his thin black spaded tail rests against his thigh, tiny, almost unnoticeable black horns peeking out from his dark hair. There’s yet another spark in the air and Jimin chuckles as he glances over his shoulder, raising himself up on his knees, dragging his hands down his body in a purposefully drawn out manner.


“Like what you see?”


Jimin knows he's an eyeful. He's pretty, maybe delicate, even, with plush lips and narrow shoulders and thin waist, but he can handle abuse. His abdomen is toned, his thighs thick with muscle, ass perfectly round and plump, spaded tail jutting from his tailbone; the qualities of a first-rate incubus.


“Are you going to sit on my face or what?” Yoongi spits, keeping his arms over his head but clenching his nails around the leather of the belt.


“Won’t even let me put on a little show for you,” Jimin pouts, anchoring his thighs on either side of Yoongi’s shoulders and spreading his cheeks, giving Yoongi a view of his hole. Just to tease, Jimin spreads himself wider, pretty pink of his rim on display. “You gonna make me cum , Yoongi?”


Yoongi’s teeth grit at the lack of honorifics but Jimin just beams down at him, tail flicking playfully against his hip. “Harder than anyone else ever has,” he drawls, bracing his feet against the couch cushions, giving Jimin his knees to brace himself on.


With one last smile, Jimin grasps Yoongi’s knees and carefully lowers himself down. He tenses up when Yoongi’s tongue grazes his perineum before he’s fully settled, glancing below his legs to double check that he’s positioned correctly. Which he is, given that there’s a sudden wetness prodding his rim and a low rumble that rattles up his spine.


“Gotta do more if y’wanna make me cum,” Jimin adds in a sing-song voice, hearing the tightening of the restraints as Yoongi clenches his fists. He cants his hips down once as a test and draws his lip between his teeth at the sensation of Yoongi’s tongue against his rim. The human growls against his skin, nipping with his teeth hard enough that Jimin squeals, arching his back with a low moan when Yoongi smooths the flat of his tongue over to soothe the sensitive flesh. Unexpectedly, Yoongi is a tease. All he does is lick in long, languid stripes until Jimin whines, forcing his ass back even further. He can feel Yoongi’s smirk, like he's won , but Jimin can't really find it in himself to care because the human finally forces his tongue inside him, curling hot and wet over his insides.


Jimin’s eyes roll back and a stuttered moan leaves his lips. “ God, your tongue,” he purrs, rocking back down against Yoongi’s face, one hand leaving Yoongi’s knee to wrap around his cock, fingers squeezing, precum oozing from the tip. “C’mon, deeper. I’ve been waiting— ah!


The noises Yoongi makes borderline obscene, messy and wet as he lets the incubus ride his tongue. The air thickens, and every time Jimin inhales he can taste how bad Yoongi wants to fuck him, mewling as his body’s own slick starts leaking out of him. He fists his cock to the rhythm of Yoongi’s tongue, desperately rutting his hips, too worked up from all of the lust that pours out from Yoongi. It’s feeding him at the same time, his head spinning, frantic and eager for more. All he can think about is what’s next and how excited he is, wants Yoongi to do terrible things to him, call him a slut and pin him to the couch and fuck him so hard he can’t walk—


“Shit, shit ,” The last swear comes out as a loud, mewling gasp, Jimin’s hips jumping and his tail waving against his thigh as he cums, Yoongi’s teeth nipping at his skin, tongue fucking him through his orgasm. He cums in thick streams over his abdomen and along Yoongi’s chest, fingers stroking out the rest of his climax, entire body strung tight. Yoongi continues to curl his tongue inside until the incubus keens and pulls himself off.


“I need you,” Jimin rasps, inching away and lurching forward, fumbling with the belt around Yoongi’s jeans. He’s hard, groans in the back of his throat when Jimin palms him in the process of unbuttoning his pants.


Yoongi writhes under him, skin flushed hot and chest heaving up and down, letting out a quiet hiss as Jimin finally gets to his prize and curls his small fingers around Yoongi’s cock. He twitches in Jimin’s hand and the incubus hums, stroking base to tip once before pulling back. His recovery time is rather remarkable and it’s like he hadn’t just hit a climax a minute ago.


“Mm, this was worth the wait.”


Jimin leans down and Yoongi swears when Jimin runs his tongue hot and wet over the shaft, lips wrapping just around the head. Saliva dribbles on to the head of his cock, providing for a wet sounding squelch when Jimin pumps his fist once more, a mix of precum and spit glistening on his fingers.


“You want to fuck me?”


All the muscles of Yoongi’s core tense and he makes a rough, desperate noise as Jimin continues to tease, digging his nails into the arm of the couch. “Untie me,” the human grits out from between his teeth, sweat already beading at his temples. Jimin glances over his shoulder at the request and he smirks.


“And why would I do that?”


There's something dark and carnal in Yoongi’s gaze. His upper lip curls. “Cause isn't the point of me being here is so you can get fucked?”


“There’s multiple ways for that to happen,” Jimin explains, swinging his legs around and hopping on Yoongi’s stomach, a grunt leaving the blonde as the air is forced from his lungs. “You can fuck me while I’m on top. Saves you from the effort, right?”


“Christ. . . right here ? Won't your roommates—”


“The blonde one, he’s out of town. And the other one. . . well, you were wondering where your birthday friend went, right? After leaving him with the redhead?”


Jimin doesn’t need to explain further for Yoongi to understand. The human swallows, and maybe if he was in his right mind he might have had some sort of retort about Jeongguk’s safety, but instead he brings his bound hands up, plants his palms in the center of Jimin’s chest and urges him back. “Then get on my dick.”


“My, you’re bossy,” Jimin murmurs, but argues no further, tail flicking in response as he sits in Yoongi’s lap. “Usually my prey is begging for me, not bossing me around.”


It’s clear that the incubus doesn’t really mind Yoongi’s behaviour; it’s a nice change, but all humans give in to the pleasure at one point. Jimin grinds back against Yoongi, replacing lube or saliva for the self-lubricant his body produces, coating Yoongi’s length in just enough for him to slide between Jimin’s cheeks and over his slick hole.


“You’re not going to ask for a condom?”


“Do we need one?”




Raising up on his thighs, Jimin reaches between his legs and presses the blunt tip of Yoongi’s cock against his hole. Yoongi rolls his hips forward but Jimin just moves away and smiles to be a tease before settling back down again. The human growls in frustration and Jimin tuts.


“The more you move, the longer you wait.”


“You're going to regret being such a little shit.”




Jimin raises again and lines himself up with Yoongi once more, thighs braced on either side of his hips, palms resting against Yoongi’s abdomen as he sinks down. A ragged breath escapes Jimin at the stretch. He had only been stretched on Yoongi’s tongue, no fingers, but he’ll admit that he likes the pain and the burn that comes with sex. He’s tight, hole clenching around Yoongi’s length as he bottoms out, head thrown back, the spaded end of his tail fluttering in the air. With one roll of his hips, he's flush against Yoongi’s thighs.


“God, yeah —”


When he looks down, Yoongi’s head is thrown back, pressing into the couch cushions so that the curve of his throat is bared. With his bound hands, he grapples for Jimin’s wrists as an anchor, drawing in a ragged breath and letting his eyes flicker open. “ Fuck , just— move.”


With his wrists held against Yoongi’s stomach, Jimin lifts up and sinks back down on Yoongi’s dick, his lashes fluttering as he stares down at the human. The lust coming from Yoongi is enough to feed him for the week, but he’s greedy, and he wants more .


“You’re so big ,” Jimin goads, knows that those words always get a rise out of humans, “Feel how wet and tight I am for you? Want me to bounce on your fat cock ‘til you cum?”


The incubus slams back down once and yeah, Yoongi can feel it. And hear it: the obscene squelching noise of Jimin’s slick as he fucks himself down over and over again until Yoongi’s eyes roll back into his head. He can smell the human’s first climax approaching, can see it in the way his breathing changes, how the muscles of his abdomen contract and tighten, the press of his fingers into Jimin’s thin wrists almost painful.


“You're— filthy, ” Yoongi forces the words out from behind his pretty white teeth, chasing his own end by meeting each roll of Jimin’s hips with one of his own. Jimin presses down hard on to Yoongi as his body moves in a hurried rhythm, mewling as he strikes his prostate over and over again.


“Y-you fucking love it.”


Sweat trickles down Jimin’s throat and Yoongi wants to run his tongue along the incubus’ neck, nipping at his smooth skin along the way to see what he would look like with bruises on his throat. He’s probably pretty, all covered in bruises. Yoongi grits his teeth and holds Jimin’s wrist tighter and listens to the high pitched whine from above.


Jimin gets Yoongi impossibly deep inside his body, right where he wants him to be. He ruts down in desperation as his orgasm approaches, precum dribbling all over himself and Yoongi’s abdomen. A sense of satisfaction rises in Jimin when Yoongi’s right there, just seconds away—


The taste of Yoongi’s orgasm explodes over Jimin’s tongue, sending bolts of white hot pleasure coursing through his body. The human’s body pulls tight, strung like a bow and his cock pulses as he spends himself with a strangled cry that he muffles behind his lips, shaking with the force of it. That’s what pushes Jimin over the edge, releasing with a loud, breathy cry, cumming untouched. White spills over Yoongi’s stomach and the incubus shudders from the sensation.


His hips slow down to a rocking motion, making sure he rides both of their orgasms in completion. His thighs quiver in the initial aftershock and after a minute, he stills, catching his breath. Yoongi’s head flops against the pillows on the couch and his eyes shut.


“What the actual fuck ,” Yoongi mumbles, probably more to himself but it makes Jimin smile anyway. His grip on Jimin’s wrists goes slack, his arms dropping back over his head. The incubus picks up his hands and twists his wrists around, spotting finger-shaped red bruising on his skin.


“You can thank me later,” Jimin hums, clearly pleased with himself.


He can’t help but wiggle his hips some more, relishing in the soft, overstimulated noises that Yoongi makes under him. Oh, but they aren’t done, not by a long shot, not with Jimin’s venom still running through the human’s veins, more potent than that little blue pill that humans seem to love for keeping their stamina up while fucking. He drags his fingers through the mess on Yoongi’s stomach, bringing the digits to his own mouth to lap at them kitten-ishly.


It takes him by surprise when Yoongi springs, bringing up his unbound hands to close one of them around the incubus’ throat, shifting their weight so that Jimin falls back. “You’ve cum twice and that isn’t enough for you, is it?” he growls, sliding free of Jimin’s body as he bullies the smaller male onto his back, pressing down hard enough on his throat that Jimin gasps.


“What did you do to me?” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse, thick with something that tastes like desire. He’s still hard, Jimin is pleased to find as the hot pulse of Yoongi’s cock slides over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.


Jimin arches up, spine curved like a cat’s, letting his plush lips part. “It makes you want to fuck like an animal, doesn’t it? The venom.” Yoongi presses down harder on his throat, constricting his windpipe enough that Jimin can barely draw in a breath. “You’ll cum over and over again until I’ve had my fill.”


“Whore,” Yoongi spits, releasing his grip around Jimin’s neck just as the incubus’ vision begins to spot at the corners. There’s a red imprint where his fingers pressed down. Jimin knows they’ll be bruises by tomorrow.


“Your whore for tonight,” Jimin purrs, letting his legs fall open as much as they can. One nearly dangles off the couch, the other presses into the cushions. He doesn’t miss how Yoongi’s eyes follow the motion, how his little pink tongue flicks out to wet his small bottom lip. Jimin knows he’s a mess, slick all over his thighs and Yoongi’s cum leaking out of him.


Yoongi is only human, so it’s not surprising when he manhandles Jimin onto his stomach, hands a bruising grip on the incubus’ hips to keep them up. Jimin braces himself with his palms on the side of  the armrest, chest pressed into the cushions to make his ass look bigger. He groans when Yoongi nudges between his legs, fists a hand in his dark hair to pin him to the couch.


“Keep your face down and your fucking ass up.”


Jimin shudders, cants his hips back until he feels the press of Yoongi’s dick slide up the crack of his ass. It’s all he can do to keep himself up on his knees as Yoongi fucks into him again, filling him up so fucking deep that Jimin can feel it in his belly.


“God, you take cock like you were made for it,” Yoongi pants, drawing back almost all the way, teasing with how he only fucks Jimin with the head of his dick. “Look at me, slut. I wanna see your face while I fuck you into this couch.”


Jimin mewls in the back of his throat and twists his head, cheek smushed into the leather and eyes slanting to peer up at Yoongi. He wriggles his hips, tail curling against his waist. A strangled laugh leaves his lips. “Yeah? C’mon, use me.”


The very tip of Yoongi’s thumb presses into the side of one of Jimin’s horns as he fucks back in, punching another moan out of Jimin’s chest. “So wet. Feels like fuckin’ a girl.”


“Mm, my ass is better than pussy . I can take the abuse.”


Oh, and Yoongi gives it to him, pounds his ass so hard that Jimin’s teeth click together in his mouth. It’s filthy, obscene , the way Yoongi’s hips smack into the curve of his ass, making the flesh jiggle with each rocking motion. Jimin doesn't even realize he's been drooling, jaw slack and eyes glazed over as Yoongi makes him take it, until the human comments on it.


“You’re a fuckin’ mess. You like being fucked stupid?”


The pleasure is mind blowing, mind numbing , the harder Yoongi fucks him with sharp, brutal thrusts. It's pent up sexual frustration that Jimin feeds on, rough and unbridled, glorious punishment for tying the human down and making him wait for so long. Jimin hasn't been fucked this good in weeks and he enjoys every second of it.


“Yeah, god yeah , harder—”


The breath whooshes out of Jimin’s lungs as Yoongi forces more of his weight on him, pulls harder at the incubus’ hair so that his head cranes back. There’s a frenzy in the human’s motions, a dead giveaway that he’s chasing his own release, and if his short gasping breaths are any indication, it’s not far off.


Jimin’s spine arches along with his neck, hands reaching back to scrabble for Yoongi’s waist for stability, nails scratching down on alabaster skin. There's a hiss from above but Jimin only presses down harder, feeling Yoongi’s hips jerk and stutter from the touch. The incubus nearly yelps when there's a stinging pain on his ass, the burn of Yoongi’s hand settling deep into his skin and causing tears to prick in the corner of his eyes. His hands drop and he falls pliant when Yoongi smacks him again.


“Mhhn,” Yoongi groans above him, “every time I hit you, you tighten down on me.”


It makes Jimin’s whole body flush hot, shaking as Yoongi hits him over and over again, until the tears spill over and down his cheeks.


“Fuck, you look so pretty when you cry.” Yoongi grinds into his pliant body, releasing his grip on Jimin’s hair to instead palm his ass with both hands, smoothing his thumbs over the red flesh. “Look at all these marks on you. . . does it feel good?”


Pressing back into the couch, whining and panting, Jimin nods vigorously. His body stings, but oh, does it feel good. He ruts against Yoongi to get him to move again, tail swishing in the air.


“Cum in me, c’mon,” Jimin rasps, his own cock hard and leaking, precum no doubt staining the leather, Yoongi’s first load spilled across the back of his thighs.


It only takes a few more rocks of Yoongi’s hips before his movements become disjointed, doubling over with a quiet swear hissed out between his teeth as cums. “Fuckin’ take it,” he slurs, slapping Jimin again as he chokes on the wave of the human’s climax, barely able to feed on the sexual energy as he cums between his belly and the couch in a hot, sticky mess. Tremors wrack his frame and he sobs into the couch, body falling limp from his orgasm.


Yoongi tips forward, bracing his hands on either side of Jimin’s ribs, his breath fanning over the incubus’ spine. Jimin’s tail loosely curls around the human’s thigh, keeping him in place. He lets his head fall forward, pressing into Jimin’s back with a soft grunt. They’re both exhausted, and Jimin feels so well-fed that he doesn’t know if he’ll feel like finding someone else this week.


The incubus grunts at the weight but he's too weak to protest. Yoongi hasn't pulled out yet, but the venom is gone by now, replacing a sexual high with exhaustion. “Looks like you won't be going anywhere,” Jimin murmurs, resting his head on his forearms.


“Hn?” Yoongi  sounds groggy when he finally makes a noise. “No, I’ll just— I’ll go in a minute.”


“You're exhausted,” Jimin replies, glancing up at Yoongi through veiled eyes. “You look like you're going to pass out.”


The human shakes his head like he's clearing away a fog. His hair falls messy hair over his forehead when he pulls back, sliding free of Jimin’s body with a lewd sounding squelch. “Shit, you got towels or something?”


Jimin winces when Yoongi pulls out. “Yeah, just grab the dish towel in the kitchen. Seokjin’s gonna kill me, but I'll wash it later. Use that.”


It's obvious that as Yoongi stands that he's on the verge of falling asleep on his feet. But he pads back into the kitchen, placing his palm on the archway for a minute for some support. Most humans wouldn't even be able to move after a feeding like this, but Yoongi is just full of surprises. When he returns, he has two little towels in his hands, using one to swipe away as the drying cum on his own abdomen as he tosses the other in Jimin’s direction.


Jimin catches it with his hand and he slowly rolls over, grimacing at the mess on his stomach and couch and between his legs. He's careful to swipe away the cum, but a shower is definitely needed in the morning, and he'll have to scrub the couch before Seokjin comes home next week. Balling up the soiled towel, Jimin tosses it on the table and stretches out, yawning, hands above his head and back arching.


“You fed me so well,” the incubus hums, trailing his fingers over his toned stomach. “I won't need to for awhile.”


“You're fuckin’ welcome,” Yoongi grumbles, but there isn't really much bite to it. His towel joins Jimin’s and he fumbles for his clothes that are scattered on the ground beside the couch.


“You're really gonna leave?”


When Yoongi looks up, his eyes are barely open. “You . . . want me to stay?”


Jimin is slow to sit up, propped on his hands. “ You're going to fall down the stairs and crack your head open.”


By the time Jimin’s done voicing his concerns, Yoongi’s already stepped into his boxers and his working on pulling his t-shirt over his head. “If you're that pressed about it I can sleep on the couch or somethin’.”


“My bed’s big enough for two.”


Jimin doesn't get up from the couch, just rests a hand on his hip and smiles. “I could have a surprise in the morning for you, too.”


“Yea? Like breakfast?”


“Mm, I do make good breakfast. That and maybe another surprise.”


With a heavy sigh, Yoongi gathers up the rest of his belongings in his arms, swaying on his feet slightly. “Alright, c’mon. Before I fall asleep on your floor.”


Smiling, Jimin stands, scooping up his clothes too and limping towards the hallway. He's hobbling, leading Yoongi to his bedroom, not even bothering with the lights as he tosses his clothes aside and rolls into bed. Yoongi did a number on him for sure.


“I won't cuddle if you don't like it,” he says to the blonde, moving over to make room. “No guarantees.”


Yoongi crawls into next next to him, making a little noise of contentment when his head hits the pillow. “Doesn't matter. I've got a dongsaeng that can't keep his hands to himself when he sleeps.”




“Mhm.” Yoongi already sounds mostly asleep. “Damn brat’s the reason I'm in this mess.”


“Well, I'm sure he celebrated well if he was with my friend. You'll have to share experiences.”


The only reply he gets is a quiet snore, muffled a bit by the pillow Yoongi practically face planted into. Jimin pouts and rolls away from the blonde, pulling the blankets up around them. He'll make Yoongi breakfast, if Taehyung doesn't eat it all first, that is.


He can't see well in the darkness, but he can't help himself as he cards his fingers through Yoongi's hair, suddenly finding him to be much softer than he was on the couch. He's impressed Jimin, and the incubus flicks stray hairs out of Yoongi’s face as the elder begins to snore quietly.


“I like you,” Jimin murmurs, snuggling up to the pillow by his head, eyes fixated on Yoongi. He smiles and pulls back.


“I think maybe I'll keep this one.”