Work Text:
It begins as a quiet beat creeping in at the edges of your mind. You frown into the darkness, squeezing your eyes shut tight.
“We are girls that dream,”
You aren’t awake enough to truly hear it, unable to tell if the noise is happening in your dream or in your bedroom. All you register is the vague discomfort of being awoken too early and the drum of raindrops on your roof.
“ This is the moment we share our dreams”
You roll over and snuggle your cheek further into your pillow, as the music gets steadily louder. Your bed is warm, comfortable, and smells like home. A rumble of thunder causes you to shudder and draw the comforter up over your shoulders.
“A shining light on you, I’m yours”
Your half-asleep brain fights to place the familiar song, struggling to remember where you’ve heard this refrain before.
“Hey baby show you my paradise”
The volume keeps increasing and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that the music will just stop and let you go back to sleep. You pull the covers up over your head to shut it out.
“Can you feel me, feel me…”
You can’t remember if you set an alarm last night. You don’t remember what day it is or what time you went to bed yesterday. You don’t know why you needed to get up this early.
“Can you touch me, hold onto me…”
You now remember that it’s Sunday and you open one eye to see the time on the clock next to your bed reads 6:01 am. You groan and shut your eyes again, but it does nothing to block out the steady pulsing beat.
“Can you hold me, hold me tightly…”
You realize you didn’t set this alarm. You worked a double-shift yesterday and had been looking forward to a morning with nothing to do but sleep. This alarm is meant for someone else.
You roll over onto your back to discover you are not alone. A messy black head of hair - streaked ever so coolly with blue - pokes out from under the covers next to you. You don’t know when he got here, but it was after you went to bed.
The song reaches its maximum volume and you groan as your brain recognizes the tune, just in time for the beat to drop.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you groan, rubbing hard at your eyes with the palms of your hands. The half of your brain is now cheerfully chirping along as “ Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!” blasts from your boyfriend’s nightstand. But the other half of your brain is pissed.
“I fucking hate you, Min Yoongi,” you sigh, flipping over so that you are facing him, giving your best murderous stare to the back of his head.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
The aggressively perky song continues to blast from the alarm on his phone. You stare at the shaggy head in front of you, silently begging him to wake up and shut the damn thing off. But your boyfriend has the audacity to just lie there - completely, perfectly, sound asleep.
He’s probably only had two or three hours of sleep at the most. You didn’t fall asleep until after one, hoping you could stay awake until he finished at the studio. You gave up and went to bed after the third time you accidentally dropped your phone on your face and still hadn’t gotten a text message from him.
You’re surprised he bothered coming here. He’s been working so hard on this new album that you’ve barely seen him this month. Your apartment is only a few blocks from the studio, yet the only time you’ve seen him this week was two nights ago when he stumbled into the coffee shop where you work in need of espresso. That seemed to be more about needing the coffee than needing to see you, though.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
You know what this song selection means. Yoongi only pulls this alarm out when he’s desperate. “Pick Me” means his work isn’t done yet. “Pick Me” means he’s planning to go back to the studio today. You are annoyed that he felt the need to come here and ruin your morning too, instead of crashing at the dorm.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
The frantic pace of the song picks up and so does your temper. You’re annoyed with his indifference to your own lack of sleep. He has no idea how long you waited for him. He has no respect for your own plans for the day.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
Even the mighty power of “Pick Me” doesn’t seem to be working. Yoongi hasn’t moved a single muscle since the song started. You are astonished he can sleep through this self-imposed racket he’s created.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
Passive-aggressively staring at the back of his head isn’t working. You groan and roll over, kicking your feet free of the blankets in a small tantrum, hoping to make enough of a ruckus to get a response out of him. But he doesn’t move.
“Yah!” You grouse at the back of his head, fed up with waiting for him to do something as your chance for sleep ticks away. “Don’t you hear that?”
He releases a long-drawn out exhale, but continues to just lie there as the chorus repeats itself for a third time.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!
“Yah!!!” you shout, losing all patience. “Get up, you horrible man!” You begin poking the middle of his back with your index finger repeatedly until he finally grumbles in response.
“Let me sleep,” Yoongi groans, hunching his shoulders and drawing the covers in tighter.
“It’s your alarm!!!” you squeal in outrage. “Get up!!” You pull on his shoulder so he rolls over onto his back. “Get up! Get up! Get up!” you urge, as you continue to poke his shoulder incessantly.
Yoongi half-opens his eyes and gives you his best “don’t-fuck-with-me-woman” glare, swearing under his breath.
This is unacceptable. You will not tolerate this kind of attitude in your bed on a Sunday morning. Not when, by all rights, you should still be asleep.
In a last desperate bid to reclaim your bed and your sleep, you grab his covers and yank them off him entirely. You wrap them around yourself into a giant blanket burrito. Yoongi tries to make a grab for the covers, but you pin them down with your legs.
Your sleepy boyfriend finds himself exposed to the cold air in nothing but his black boxer-briefs. He whines, curling up into a ball for warmth. Yet, despite his whining, he makes no attempt to get up and do anything useful. He crosses his hands over his chest and clutches his shoulders tightly. And the unstoppable beat of “Pick Me” continues to blare across the bedroom.
Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
You could go turn off the alarm yourself, but that feels like giving up. You are not surrendering this fight. It’s his alarm and he should have to suffer the consequences. You are not getting out of this bed.
Suddenly, it’s quiet. You realize that the song has finally reached its end and you breathe out a sigh of relief. You roll onto your back and stretch out your arms, letting out a victorious yawn and rustling down into the blankets to go back to bed.
Yoongi sighs too and you look over at him, noticing the way his lip sticks out in a small pout. You want to stay mad at him, to punish him for waking you so early. But as he reaches out and grabs pathetically for the covers again, you can’t help the small grin that crosses your lips. You begin to feel bad for leaving him all alone in the cold.
You are just about to welcome him back into the blanket burrito with you, when the unthinkable happens.
“Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me Up!”
The infernal thing is repeating!
Min freaking Yoongi put “Pick Me” on repeat. At 6 am. On a Sunday.
Any goodwill you had left for him evaporates instantly.
“Get up asshole!” you shout, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him in time with the beat. “Get up! Get up! Get up!”
“Okay! Ooooookay!!!” he shouts back, hitting his hands hard against the mattress as he pushes himself up. “I’m up! I’m up!” he mutters and begins to head in the direction of the bathroom. You are horrified when he walks right past his phone, making no attempt to stop the alarm.
“You better not leave without shutting off that fucking alarm!” you shout at his back. He pauses and his fists clench at his sides. You realize you’ve pushed him too far as he stomps back to his phone. In complete silence, he taps the buttons necessary to shut off the alarm, then throws the phone down and stalks off to the bathroom.
This silence doesn’t feel victorious. It is too quiet and too cold in your bedroom. It’s dark too. It’s spring now, so the sun should be up, but the rain makes it feel like it’s still the middle of the night. You hide the bottom half of your face under the covers while keeping your eyes wide open, waiting for him to return.
After a few minutes of tense silence, you hear him padding back from the bathroom. He picks up his phone again to check something. The light from the phone shines across his face and the sight of him breaks your heart.
He looks so tired. Deep dark circles have formed underneath his eyes. His lips are dry and cracked. His face is puffy. Half his hair is sticking straight up, while the other half is plastered to his forehead. He’s wrecked. He frowns down at his phone, deep creases between his eyebrows. You realize whatever is wrong with him is more important than this dumb feud about the alarm.
“Yoongi,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi looks up at you and you can see the exhaustion on his face. He looks so sad. He sets the phone down and comes plodding back over to the bed. When he finally reaches you, he tips over, face-planting onto the mattress, feet still planted half-heartedly on the floor. With his face pressed into the bed, he shakes his head back and forth.
You want to chuckle at his incredible pathetic-ness, but he hates that. You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, attempting to smooth down the part sticking up. You scrape your nails across his scalp and down toward the back of his neck. He nuzzles his head against your hand and lets out a soft groan.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, one hand running through his hair and the other tracing small circles across his upper back.
“So tired,” he moans into the mattress. “I don’t want to go back.” He adjusts his weight so that he can turn his face to the side, looking up at you as you keep stroking his hair.
“Do you have to?” you ask. You hope he can stay for breakfast. He’s probably consumed nothing but coffee and instant ramen for the last three days.
“Mmhh,” he nods, eyes closed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to climb back into bed with me instead?” You lean down and press a light kiss to his cheek, trying to lure him into staying for his own well-being.
“Mmmmhhhh,” he whines and scrunches up his face, shaking his head back and forth.
“But it’s so dark,” you say as you kiss his cheek again. “And rainy.” You kiss along his jawline. “And cold.” You keep leaving small kisses down his neck. “Stay with me,” you whisper in his ear.
“God,” he groans, burying his face in the mattress again. “I want to,” he says, his voice muffled by the bed. “But I can’t.”
He sighs, pulling away from you and standing back up, tired hands running down his face and pulling his mouth down into an exaggerated frown. “We’re so behind,” he mutters, standing next to the bed as he scrolls through his phone, looking for something.
“Surely, it can wait a few hours,” you try, scooting towards the edge of the bed so he’s within arm’s reach. You lay across the bed with your head near his stomach and begin running your finger across his bare hip and around his navel. His abdominal muscles twitch in response.
“No,” he replies, grabbing your teasing hand. “It can’t.” He holds out his phone to show you his screen. “Namjoon’s already texted me twice! He was pretty pissed that I wanted to come here at all.” He continues staring at his phone, while his free hand massages his temple.
“It probably would have made more sense to stay,” you reply, reflecting on your morning together thus far.
“Yeah,” he nods slowly, still staring at the phone. “But I wanted to see you,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I thought you might still be up.” He bits his lip and looks up at you. “It was stupid,” he says, dropping your hand and sighing.
All remaining bitterness over your morning wake-up disappears.
“Yeah,” you tease. “Kinda stupid.” You lean in and kiss his stomach. He brings one hand to your neck, fingers twirling into your hair. But then his phone buzzes with notification and he turns his attention back to it, frowning.
“I don’t know how going back there will help,” he sighs. “I’m so stuck on this new song.” He looks down at you, but seems to be staring through you, lost in thought.
“Can I help?” you ask and his eyes flick back to yours.
“Will you listen to it?” he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.
“Okay,” you nod slowly. “I don’t see what good that will do though.”
One of the many insecurities you have about your relationship with Yoongi is your lack of knowledge about music. Yoongi claims he likes that you aren’t part of the business, that his time with you is time when he can relax and not worry about any of it. Even before you had started dating, when Yoongi was just a trainee, he would visit your coffee shop when he needed a break and ask you about your day. He always showed up at odd hours, so there was rarely anyone else around. You would make him espresso and sit and chat with him. He never said much during those early semi-dates, enjoying listening to you talk.
Yoongi has told you time and time again that your lack of musical prowess isn’t important. But in times like these, when he was stuck with something and stressed, you felt woefully inadequate.
Yoongi doesn’t seem to care about your hesitance. He runs across the room in his underwear and bends over, fishing for something in his work bag. You chuckle to yourself as you enjoy the view, but he is too immersed in searching his bag to notice.
He finds his earbuds and comes scurrying back to the bed. He hands one of the buds to you and puts the other in his own ear. He smiles at you as he finds the song on his phone and pats the side of your thigh lightly to get you to scoot back to your side of the bed.
As the music starts, he snuggles in next to you, sitting upright against the headboard and wrapping his arm around you to pull you to his side. You feel him watching you for your reaction and know you need to be encouraging.
“I really like this beat!” you exclaim over the music, nodding along.
He nods and gives you a small smile, but you feel him growing tenser as the song goes on. You can sense his frustration emanating from the song itself. It’s choppy and disjointed. Individual pieces are good. The beat is bumping, the chorus is catchy, and Taehyung’s deep voice on the chorus is compelling. But the chorus doesn’t link to the verses, and the beat seems off in places.
You have no idea how to help. You know it’s not quite right, but can’t put your finger on why. You certainly don’t know how to fix it.
You watch Yoongi for his reaction. The small creases that had started to form between his eyebrows get steadily deeper as he stares hard at the bedspread. By the time the song gets to the second chorus, he sighs and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand.
“I can’t think,” he groans, splaying his fingertips across his forehead and massaging slowly. “I begged Bang PD to let me produce this one.” He exhales. “I was so excited about it.” He hits his fist hard onto to his thigh. “And now I’m fucking it up.” He clenches his jaw and continues to pound his fist into his leg in time with the problematic beat.
“Shhh,” you murmur, grabbing his hand to keep him from continuing to abuse his thigh. “It’s okay.”
You don’t know how to fix the song, but you know he’s no good to anyone when he’s this agitated. You pull the earbuds out of your ear and out of his and set them down on the bed. He sighs at the silence, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headboard.
“You’ll figure it out,” you implore, but he just shakes his head back and forth.
You rest your head on his chest and squeeze his hand in reassurance. You listen to his heartbeat as your head rises and falls with each of his breaths. You feel his breathing even out and you squeeze his hand again. He takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers with his.
Yoongi’s hands are beautiful. His long thin fingers that are so thoughtful, so purposeful in their movements. They would be delicate, but his prominent knuckles make them seem stronger. His right hand is calloused from holding too many pencils too tightly for too many years. You like tracing over the callouses with your own fingers, as if you could smooth them out with your own hands.
Yoongi uses the tips of his fingers to trace around each one of your fingers individually, his eyes following the path of his hand. You watch the precision in his hands as each muscle and vein twitches as he slowly traces up and down each finger, then across your palm and up your arm. Every place his hand touches tingles with warmth. It is so sensual that you feel desire begin to bubble in the pit of your stomach.
You snuggle your face into his chest, placing a small kiss right in the center. He shudders. You smile as you watch goosebumps spread across his chest and down his stomach. You eagerly place several more kisses across his chest, just to watch the goosebumps spread farther.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers into your hair before placing a slow kiss on the top of your head. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” You reply and pull back, turning your head up to meet his lips with yours.
Your lips connect and you both breathe in at the same time. He tastes minty from his toothpaste. As you deepen the kiss, the minty taste dissolves and is replaced with the taste of him. His long night at the studio means his usual cologne and body wash scents are gone. But the scent left behind is comforting and familiar. He smells and tastes like home.
Desperate to take in more of him, you open your mouth and suck on his lower lip. The way his lip trembles causes your heart to skip a beat. His lip trembles every damn time you kiss him. And it melts you every single time.
He lets out a long slow sigh through his nose as you continue the kiss. You feel his shoulders relax, but his opposite hand is still desperately clinging to his phone. You slide your hand into his slowly, trying to convince him to let go of the phone. But as soon as he realizes what you’re doing, his grip on the phone tightens and he whines.
“I can’t stay,” he whispers against your lips. You pull back to meet his eyes. “I want to.” His eyes plead with you for understanding. “But I can’t.”
“I know,” you reply, nodding slowly. “It’s okay, I understand.” You connect your lips again for what you assume is a last kiss and decide to make the most of it. You wrap your fingers around his neck and pull him into you. You sigh in satisfaction as he lets go of his phone to bring his hands up to curl into your hair as he deepens the kiss.
You squirm with delight and smile into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him harder into you. His hands are cold and you hiss when he slides them up under the baggy t-shirt you wore to bed. One of the ways you deal with missing him is to go to bed wearing nothing but his t-shirt. It’s one of his favorite things to come home and find you in.
“Sorry,” he mumbles when you shudder at his cold hands, but you shake your head, not caring at all.
You shouldn’t kiss him like this. You’re going to be heartbroken when he gets out of the bed and leaves you here alone. But you can’t help yourself.
His phone buzzes with some new notification and he visibly flinches. He stops kissing you and closes his eyes in pain, fists clenching in agitation. He is so tense and miserable. You feel desperate to help him.
“Yoongi,” you say softly, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You’re so stressed.”
He nods slowly and opens his eyes again, biting his lower lip and watching you carefully.
“You need to relax,” you smile as you place small kisses down his neck. He trembles every time your lips touch him. His grip on your hair tightens as you suck a long slow kiss where his neck meets his collarbone. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper against his skin.
Yoongi whimpers and shifts his weight uncomfortably. You glance down and smile at the increasing bulge in his underwear. You keep trailing kisses across his collarbone, then down his chest. You run your tongue slowly around his nipple, before taking it into your mouth and sucking. It hardens instantly and his breath hitches. His hand flies up and catches your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
“Wait,” he breathes. His mouth is slightly parted, his skin flushed and he runs his tongue hungrily across his upper lip. “I can’t...” He searches for the words. “I can’t stay for long.”
“Five minutes.” You smirk up at him, pleased grin creeping across your lips at how wrecked he looks. “I want to help you.”
It’s unfair, but you purposefully use this moment to bring your hand to his underwear, palming him and finding him hard. His erection leaps up against your hand as soon as you touch it.
Yoongi looks down at you and you see whatever resolve he had left break.
“Fuck it,” he swears under his breath. “Yeah, okay,” he nods quickly. “Please.”
You use one hand to rub slowly up and down his erection over his underwear. He whines when you use your other hand to cup his balls.
“Oh god,” he groans. You use both hands to massage him as you keep trailing kisses lower and lower down his stomach. His abdominal muscles twitch with each kiss and a wet patch begins forming on his boxers where his erection is leaking in anticipation.
You continue massaging him as you kiss along his hip bone, tongue licking each spot as you work down from his side toward his center.
“Please,” he whispers again, his erection pulsing in your hand. You look up to watch him for a moment: head tilted back, eyes shut, breathing heavily. He looks down at you when you pause, eyes dark and observing you closely.
You remove your hands from him for a moment and he hisses at the loss. You chuckle when he immediately brings his own hand down to replace yours on his erection.
You grab the hem of your t-shirt in both hands, preparing to pull it off, but pause when you see his face. He’s chewing his bottom lip, eyes closed, thin pale fingers rubbing urgently over the fabric just below the head of his erection. He stops when he realizes you are staring at him.
“What are you doing?” he grunts, breathing heavily.
“You’re beautiful,” you reply, and laugh when he rolls his eyes at you.
“Shut up.” His voice is annoyed, but a small smile flashes across his lips before he forces them straight again. “Get this off” he urges, coughing to cover his chuckle and tugging on the hem of your shirt.
You whip the shirt off over your head, still laughing. Yoongi’s breath pauses as his eyes scan your body. He reaches out for you, beginning to run his hands up your sides, but you catch his hands in yours, interlacing your fingers.
“Nuh uh,” you tease. “No time for that.” He pouts at you, but obediently drops his hands to his sides.
“Keep them there,” you murmur, as you bend down to kiss his stomach again. “Let me do the work,” he groans, but says nothing else.
You trail kisses down lower and lower until you reach where his erection is straining against the fabric of his underwear. You blow gently across the wet patch and enjoy the way he shivers, before placing a small kiss in the center. His fingers twist into the sheets on the bed as he fights to keep his hands at his sides. You place a longer, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock through the fabric of his underwear and his hips thrust up involuntarily.
“Oh god,” he moans, followed by a broken please , just under his breath.
You take pity on him and slowly pull down the front of his underwear. He eagerly lifts his hips up for you to slide them out from under him. You pull them down over his ass, squeezing teasingly as you go. He grunts, and watches you closely as you pull them down to his ankles then kicks them off quickly. He collapses back onto the bed, just his head propped up on the pillows to watch you.
His cock curves upward to his belly, head shining with moisture and dotting his stomach with wet spots as it twitches and bounces in anticipation. You walk your fingers lightly up the shaft before rolling the head under your palm. It’s already slick and slides easily under your hand.
Yoongi can’t help himself as he brings one arm up to cover his eyes, hips grinding up into your hand. You cup his balls again, massaging the thin, sensitive skin with your fingertips. He moans again and looks down at you hungrily.
You keep your eyes fixed on his as you bend down and run your tongue slowly up the length of his erection, wandering around teasingly, but steadily traveling upward. Yoongi’s fingers clench harder into the bed sheets as he stares at you, willing you to go further.
“Please,” he says one more time, fingers trembling as they trace along the bed.
You smile and wrap your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing it tightly. You lick your lips before curling them over your teeth and lowering your mouth onto him.
“Thank you,” he whispers when you finally take him into your mouth, sighing and craning his head back as he arches up into you.
You bob your head slowly up and down, hand wrapping around the part of him that you can’t reach with your mouth, mouth and hand sliding up and down his length in unison. Yoongi bites his hand to stop himself from crying out when you pause and rub your tongue hard back and forth across his frenulum.
Yoongi grabs frantically at the bed and you let go of his cock to catch his hands with yours, but keep your mouth wrapped tightly around him. You pull his hands toward you, finally letting him bring them to your head as you bob up and down again. He winds one hand into your hair. With his other hand, he cups your jaw, feeling with his fingers as his cock slides in and out of your mouth.
You’ve trying to keep yourself from becoming too aroused. He doesn’t have much time and you can always take care of yourself after he leaves. But every whimper he makes and every tremble of his fingers against your cheek causes your core to clench involuntarily.
You hear him pant and moan as you pick up the speed of your movements. You pump back and forth faster and faster, shaft slick with saliva and pre-cum. His breath picks up its pace and his fingers tighten in your hair.
Just as his moans reach the loudest point yet, you suddenly stop, hollowing your cheeks and sucking, before sinking all the way down as far as you can and swallowing.
“Aghhhh,” he moans and his legs shake.
You can’t help having to break off him for a minute to giggle at the sounds he’s making. You rest your chin on his thigh while you catch your breath, your hands continue to stroke up and down his erection.
“God,” he groans looking down at you and breathing heavily. “You’re so beautiful.” His dark eyes meet yours and his hand in your hair strokes you gently. “So fucking beautiful and so fucking good at that.”
Your heart swells with pride, pleased with how wrecked he looks. You smirk up at him and place a light kiss on his thigh.
“Fuck,” he groans when you tighten your grip on his erection again. He closes his eyes and cranes his head back, arching his hips up into your hand.
You don’t give him much of a breather before you take him back into your mouth and resume your tortuous pace of rapid up-and-down motions, followed by long slow deep-throating. He loves it when you bob up and down quickly, his fingers tightening in your hair, but what really makes him squirm is when you suddenly pause at the head and then inch slowly downward, tongue rubbing hard against the underside of his cock.
“Holy shit,” he pants as his legs start to tremble. “Stop,” he tries to warn you. “I’m-I’m gonna…” he pleads, grip tightening in your hair.
Yoongi always warns you before he comes. And while he never minds if you would rather him come somewhere else, he loves coming down your throat.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, kissing his stomach as your hand works him to give your mouth a break, before taking him back into your mouth one last time. You take special care to run your tongue up and down on the most sensitive spot right under the head, before you sink your nose all the way to his stomach and swallow again.
“God-fucking-damn it,” he wails as he comes, abdominal muscles clenching and hands gripping tightly in your hair as his erection pulses down your throat. He comes over and over, but you stubbornly keep your head there swallowing everything, wanting to take in all of him.
He stills at last and you come up for air, coughing and spluttering, but feeling totally victorious. He collapses back across the pillows, breathing hard. Yoongi gazes up at you in awe as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, pleased grin on your face.
“My god, that was amazing,” he sighs as his eyes flicker closed. You take the opportunity to watch him, chest rising and falling as he recovers his breath. His face is flushed and his bangs stick to his forehead, beads of sweat at his temples. A small smile plays on his lips as he rubs his stomach contently. It’s the happiest he’s looked in a week.
You giggle to yourself and decide to head for the bathroom, eager to get a glass of water. Yoongi appears lost to the world, eyes closed and breathing slowly. He may have already fallen back asleep. You are quite pleased with yourself at how relaxed he looks.
You climb off the bed and walk toward the bathroom, but are stopped when Yoongi’s hand flies out and catches your wrist.
“Just where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” he teases, eyes still closed, but mischievous grin spreading across his face.
“Umm,” you mumble. “Just going to get a drink.” You pull away slightly in an attempt to free your arm, but Yoongi’s grip on your wrist is unshakeable.
“I don’t think so,” Yoongi’s eyes are open again, dark and full of intention. He chuckles lowly in a way that makes your heart fly up into your throat. “Come here,” he insists, tugging on your wrist.
You wander over and place a hand on his chest as you lean in to kiss him.
“Good girl,” he whispers right before your lips meet his.
Your breath stops. He only calls you that when he’s planning on wrecking you. You don’t want to get your hopes up. He’s made it clear he can’t stay for long. He doesn’t say anything else, so you think maybe it was just a slip of the tongue.
As soon as your lips connect, Yoongi wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. You lose your balance and topple on top of him. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, grabbing you around the middle and pulling you back onto the bed.
He rolls you over so he is above you and crashes down into you in a deep kiss. His leg slides in between your legs, pressing into you, making you buck your hips up. You feel desire coursing through you, but are hesitant to give in to it. He has to go back to work.
Yoongi seems to be in no hurry as he trails his fingers up your side to your breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. Heat floods your body and you moan. He groans at the sound and grabs your whole breast in his hand as he kisses you again.
His other hand comes down between your legs. Wetness floods your core and you can’t help grinding up into him. He laughs against your lips before breaking away and beginning to leave wet sucking kisses across your neck and chest.
He runs his tongue in a slow circle around your breast, getting closer and closer to your nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking, teasing it until it hardens. He pulls away and smiles as he blows across it and you squirm at the sudden change in temperature.
“Yoongi,” you can’t help gasping. It doesn’t do any good as he repeats the whole process with your other nipple. Your core clenches and you feel your clitoris swelling. You have definitely lost the battle to not become too turned on. If he leaves now, you’ll be devastated.
“D-Don’t you have to go to work?” you groan as Yoongi begins trailing kisses down from your breasts across your stomach.
Yoongi pauses and looks up at you as he rests his chin on your stomach, fingers slowly massaging your inner thigh. A slow mischievous grin spreads across his face.
“I have important work to do here,” he replies smiling, before coming back up and pressing you into the mattress in a deep and thorough kiss. Then he gives you one last smirk before he starts moving lower.
Yoongi gets to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees on the floor. He grabs you by your thighs and you squeak as he tugs you down to him. He pulls you toward him until your ass is at the edge of bed and then kneels in between your legs.
For a moment, he just looks at you, enjoying the sight of you spread out before him. His fingers slowly walk up your thighs, and every second they get closer to your center, you tremble. When they finally reach the peak, he doesn’t touch you like you want. Instead he uses his careful fingers to pull your folds apart and examine you even more intimately.
“You’re so swollen,” Yoongi groans, running a single finger pad ever so slightly across your swollen clitoris. You push up into his hand but he withdraws it, chuckling. “So swollen and wet,” he teases, other hand reaching in between your folds, feeling how wet you are and sliding up and down. When he pulls that hand back too, you sigh in exasperation. He looks up at you and gives you a self-satisfied smile.
“What’s got you so wound up?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer.
“I’ve missed you,” you squirm, eyes pleading with him to stop stalling and touch you.
“I’ve missed you too,” he laughs at the desperation in your eyes and finally brings his mouth to you.
“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine and throw your head back as his tongue begins a slow circle around your clitoris. His hands tighten their grip on your hips when he hears you moan his name.
Even though this is a regular part of yours and Yoongi’s sex life, it still feels like a goddamn revelation every single time he does it. He never rushes you, never gets impatient, just methodically alternates running his tongue in a slow circle around your clitoris with pulling the whole thing into his mouth and sucking. He only pauses periodically to breathe, kissing your inner thighs ever so softly as he does.
You thread your fingers into his hair to hold him as he buries his face in you. He can tell when you’re getting desperate with the way you grip him harder. Your clitoris swells and your walls clench and he knows you’re getting close. He presses into you with two of his fingers, curling up inside you and rubbing intently on your front wall, chuckling when you clench around him again. You’re so very close to your climax when he pauses.
“Count for me.” He whispers and your stomach drops. You were right; he does want to wreck you today.
This is his favorite game: counting the number of times he brings you right up to orgasm. He loves edging you until you are in tears. You both love it and hate it.
“You don’t have time for this,” you whine, trying weakly to talk him into just letting you come.
“I can make time for this,” He smirks up at you, determination in his eyes. “Now stop me when you’re close.” The look in his eyes brooks no argument as he lowers his tongue back onto you.
There is more urgency in his movements now. His tongue has more pressure behind it and his fingers move faster as they slide in and out of you. Your legs tremble and you grip the bedsheets in an effort to fight back your impending orgasm.
Right when you feel like you can’t possibly take anymore, you tap his hand and he stops.
“One,” you sigh as you feel him remove both his tongue and fingers from you to let you calm back down.
“Good girl,” he whispers again and there is no mistaking his intention this time. He blows cold air across you and you whimper. “So good.”
He waits for your breathing to level off and your grip on the bedsheet to relax, before he returns with both his tongue and fingers working you again. It’s only seconds before you are tapping urgently on his hand again.
“Two,” you moan, hips bucking desperately into the empty air as he pulls away from you.
He begins alternating now, using just his fingers to get you to “three” then just his tongue to get you to “four”. You are a wreck, sweating and shivering, hands sore from how hard they’ve been gripping the bed. The amount of time it takes to get you to the edge gets shorter and shorter every time he touches you.
“Five,” You breath. You look up at him hopeful that it’s over, but instead he sits back on his heels, looking almost disinterested.
“I’m getting pretty tired,” he drawls, but the gleam in his eyes makes it clear that he is still just as determined to break you. “Take over for me.”
“What?!” you groan.
“You heard me,” he commands, making it clear that he’s not going to repeat himself.
Whining, you reach down with your fingers and begin circling your clitoris. You are so wet that everything slides easily. Yoongi just sits back and watches you carefully. Being so on display for him like this is both humiliating and a turn-on. The way he never takes his eyes off you helps you reach your edge again quickly.
“Six,” you practically sob as you pull your own hand away.
“Good girl.” He pats your thigh gently. “Keep going.”
It’s now only taking you seconds to get back to the edge. When you get to “seven”, you begin begging.
“We’re going to ten, right?” you plead, but he just smirks at you and doesn’t say anything. You press harder against your clitoris, desperate for this torture to be over.
“Eight.” You sob. It is getting harder and harder to pull your fingers back each time. You are so close, your release right there.
“You’re so good,” Yoongi coos reassuringly as you cry in desperation. “Almost there.”
“Nine.” You tremble and clench. “Please… please… please…” you beg as you withdraw your fingers again.
Yoongi just laughs.
“Just one more?” you ask, panting and legs trembling, but he only shrugs.
“Guess you’ll find out,” he teases, as you resume the rapid circles on your clitoris.
“T-Ten.” You sigh in relief on reaching your goal, believing he’ll finally take pity on you. You relax as his fingers return to you and begin a slow slide in and out.
“Can I come?” you plead as his thumb lazily circles your clitoris. But, of course, he stops again.
“Aggghhhh,” you cry in frustration, unable to form words in your desperation. Yoongi laughs again. You could kill him, but then he’d never finish what he started.
“Yoongi, please,” You beg. “You have work to do.” You try to reason with him. “Please let me come.”
“Alright, alright,” He laughs, and places a light kiss to your inner thigh, smiling against your skin. “Come whenever you want, sweetheart.”
His tongue comes back with full urgency as his fingers curl inside you again. Your legs clench around him and your hands grip into his hair again as you grind against him, so desperate for release. You feel it coming and it builds and it builds. You are so relieved that you can finally let go.
“Come for me,” he whispers and it sends you tumbling off the edge.
You clench down hard on his fingers as waves of muscle contractions run through you and you come over and over and over. He rubs in time with the contractions on both your clitoris and your front wall, perfectly in sync, drawing more and more pulses out of you. When it finally stops, everything is suddenly way too intense, and you squirm away from him, whining. He laughs and takes pity on you, finally withdrawing his fingers.
“Fuck,” you whimper, falling limply onto the bed.
Yoongi looks up at you from between your legs and looks incredibly pleased with himself. He climbs back onto the bed and lies down next to you, arm wrapping around your waist, leaning in for a kiss.
Yoongi loves kissing you when his face is covered in you. You try to push him off, laughing and diving out of the way of his kisses, but he pins you to the bed and insists on forcing his oh-so-talented tongue into your mouth. You groan and are shocked to feel your pelvic muscles clench again in interest.
You should be satisfied. You haven’t come that hard in weeks. But Yoongi’s merciless edging has left you still wound up and swollen despite your orgasm. As he presses into you with a deep kiss, you can feel yourself tingling with want again. You really want him to fuck you.
You reach down to feel for his erection, but are surprised to find him flaccid. You quickly pull your hand away and try to not look disappointed. But Yoongi’s catches your change in expression and sighs.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “You already took everything out of me.” He bites his lower lip and looks down at you.
“Oh,” you say a bit surprised. Usually he’s good to go for at least a second round, but you shake your head. “It’s okay,” you reach up and kiss him hard in reassurance.
Yoongi just frowns at you though.
“You know I only got like 2 hours of sleep last night, right?” He explains, pushing his bangs off his forehead.
“Yeah, I know.” You nod quickly, not wanting him to feel in anyway inadequate. He had just given you your best orgasm in a month, to want anything more felt selfish.
“Are you still unsatisfied?” He asks, eyeing you closely.
“No, no,” you shake your head back and forth quickly. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Fine?!” he exclaims in dismay, smacking the bed in irritation. Apparently, “fine” is not what your boyfriend wanted to hear.
“Fine?!” He repeats in disbelief. “If you aren’t totally wrecked, then I’m not doing my job. Be right back.” He climbs up out the bed and disappears into the bathroom, still muttering “fine’ to himself in disgust.
You hear a drawer in the bathroom open and shut. Your stomach clenches when you figure out where he has gone.
Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, long pink vibrator in his hands. Your eyes widen when you see it and a predatory gleam flashes in his eyes.
“Oh no,” You try to squirm away from him farther up the bed. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have thought so,” Yoongi smirks as he wraps his fingers around the shaft of the toy. “But apparently, my girl is feeling especially greedy today.”
“You really don’t need to do that,” You say, gulping with a combination of arousal and dread. You feel like if he makes you edge another 10 times, you might pass out.
“I know I don’t need to.” Yoongi smiles as he settles back down next to you. “But I want to,” he murmurs, kissing your chest again as he leans over you. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
He presses the tip of the vibrator to your clitoris and turns it on.
“Aaaaaghhhhh,” you wail as the sudden sensation makes every muscle in your body tense. “Yoongi!” You cry out his name as your hips roll up and down involuntarily.
Your entire body is so sensitive and your clitoris still so swollen that everything feels even more intense this time. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel nothing but raw pleasure emanating from between your legs. Yoongi presses the vibrator harder into your clitoris and your legs start to tremble.
“God, I’m going to come,” you moan out, then realize that he might not be finished with his game. You open your eyes and look hesitantly up at him. “Can I come?” you ask, eyes wide and pleading.
“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles. “I’m not fucking around this time.” He smiles into your neck as you tremble beneath him and cranks up the speed on the vibrator. “I’ve gotta go to work, you know?”
As he teases you, he presses the vibrator up inside you, pushing hard into the squishy tissue inside. With the vibrator inside you, all the sensations magnify, as if your entire body is humming along with the vibrations. It feels wonderful to have something inside you, though not as amazing as he would feel.
“The sooner the better, sweetheart,” Yoongi urges as his long fingers return to your clitoris, rubbing hard in fast circles.
You cry out and rock your hips frantically up into him as he turns the speed up to the max and you feel your entire body clenching and vibrating.
“That’s right, come for me.” He orders, pushing hard into you with both his fingers and the toy.
Your body obeys and your abs tense, pulling you up and off the bed as you roll your hips over and over on the vibrator, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You squeeze your eyes tight and see bursts of white behind your eyes as you come.
“Goddamn,” Yoongi whispers as he watches your face. “You’re so beautiful.”
You cry out in overstimulation as you come down from your high and he gently clicks off the vibrator and tosses it to the side of the bed, before kissing you urgently. You pant, desperate to catch your breath, only now realizing just how sweaty you are.
You look down in surprise when you feel something hard poking at your side.
“Well, would you look at that?” Yoongi wiggles his erection proudly, before giving you a big grin.
“Thought you were too tired,” You tease, hitting his shoulder gently.
“Guess not,” he grins down at his erection, so pleased, before smirking back up at you. “You’re just so hot when you come.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” you chuckle at his delighted expression. “Get over here.”
“You sure?” he teases. “Seems like you’ve had a lot today.”
You just nod eagerly and pull him up toward you.
“Yes,” you sigh as he enters you. You feel sore and worn out, but so satisfied at the same time. Full in a way that only he makes you feel.
It’s been too long since you’ve had him like this and he feels so good inside you. You feel complete, surrounded by him, immersed in him. He rolls his hips slowly, before snapping quickly right at the end, sending shockwaves through your system.
“Yoongi,” you cry out, as he continues the slow roll followed by the quick snap. “God, it feels so good.”
“Yeah?” he looks down at you, so pleased with himself and you don’t want to get his hopes up.
“Not sure I can come again though,” you hurry to add.
“Oh, I know you can.” Yoongi nods as he kisses you. “I believe in you, sweetheart.” As if in confirmation of this fact, he reaches over and picks up the vibrator again.
“Hold this on your clitoris and don’t stop,” he commands and you do as he says.
“Fuck,” he hisses as you turn on the vibrations, feeling it too. The combination of the vibrations and him inside you is wonderful.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. But just as your legs begin to shake and you feel you are about to come, he stops moving. You open your eyes to chastise him and find him looking down at you, watching you carefully. His face is so soft, mouth slightly parted, tongue running carefully across his lower lip in thought.
You raise your eyebrows in silent question, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. He smiles and bites his lip cheekily as he thrusts again, before diving down and catching you in a big kiss. When he breaks free, he keeps rolling his hips slowly, but keeps his lips right next to yours, breath ghosting across your lips.
“I love you,” he whispers, forehead pressed into yours. It’s not something he says often, but when he does, you know he means it with his entire being.
“I love you too,” you reply and grab him around the neck, pulling him down into a hard kiss.
He presses into you hard and you desperately cling to him. He is everything you want in this moment and everything you need. You’re still kissing him as waves of pleasure crash over you and you clench hard around him over and over and over. He cries out at the same time and stills as he finds his own release.
He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You giggle and kiss his neck. You both lie there for a while, completely entwined, catching your breath.
Eventually though his hip bone pressing into you starts to become uncomfortable and you wiggle uneasily as you feel the wetness inside you beginning to drip onto the mattress.
You shift your weight back and forth, but he refuses to budge, sighing into your neck and squeezing you tightly in his arms.
“Yoongi,” you plead, squirming again and trying to wiggle out from under him, but he clings to you.
“Yoongi,” you try again. “We have to get up now.”
“Noooo,” he moans, shaking his head back and forth.
“Yes,” you nod and finally manage to shove him off. You sit up and he groans, motioning at you with grabby hands as he lays on his back.
“Please,” he begs. “Just let me stay a little while longer.”
“Alright,” you reply. A contented smile spreads across Yoongi’s face as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. His chest is warm and the sound of raindrops on the roof is a soothing drumming. You fall asleep, and so does he.
______________________________
When you open your eyes again, the sun is shining through your window and the rain has stopped. You roll over, wanting to bury your face in Yoongi’s chest again, but your bed is empty. You sigh and wiggle over to his pillow to breathe in the way he smells. As you move to his side of the bed, your hand catches on a piece of paper.
“Figured out what was missing. Headed back to the studio.”
You sit up slowly and smile when you spot a mug of warm coffee waiting for you on your nightstand.