#sessions: the white album

[get-back-homeward]

well now i know why john was convinced hey jude was about him

white album sessions for hey jude:

@11:30 just before john’s part starts, paul addresses john:  “come on now, jude!”

[yume-fanfare]

my guess for the process behind ab secret is that after the high notes in white day kiss and the lows and long notes in meoto and last stage, both ucchi and zakki's voices gave out so shito was like. ok guys ill give you a break, we're autotuning this one

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"...BECAUSE ROCKERS IS WHAT WE REALLY ARE."

NOTE: Happy posthumous 83rd birthday to John Winston Lennon, born on this day! Another legend lost. HAIL! 🎂🕯👓🎸🎶🎈

PIC INFO. Spotlight on the late, great John Lennon (October 9, 1940 -- December 8, 1980), photographed with his Ephiphone Casino six-string electric guitar, during the "Let it Be" Sessions, Abbey Road Studios, UK, c. 1969. 📸: Linda McCartney✝.

"We're all heavy. Just heavy. How did we ever do anything light? But what we're trying to do now is rock 'n' roll, with less of your philoso-rock, is what we're saying to ourselves. And just get on with rocking, because rockers is what we really are. You can give me a guitar, stand me up in front of a few people, and that's what I am."

-- JOHN LENNON✝, c. "White Album" sessions, c. 1968, excerpt from "Days That I’ll Remember: Spending Time With John Lennon & Yoko Ono" (2013), by Jonathan Cott

Source: www.pinterest.com/pin/film--25473554133279278.

[secretariatbourgeoisophobe]

sure baby queen may be an industry plant but ill be damned if quarter life crisis doesnt fucking slap

[beatleshistoryblog]

LECTURE 18: COMING APART (PART 1): Check out this mini-documentary on the making of The Beatles’ self-titled album, a.k.a. The White Album, with footage from the recording sessions at EMI Studios in 1968. The video captures – quite memorably – the breadth and diversity of the album.  As far as the range of sound goes, The White Album was truly all over the map, and underscored the ever evolving musical tastes of the band members, particularly the ways they were growing apart in their styles.  

[midchelle]

[saturngas]

gallery full of you

[🪐] scenarios of gojo's developing obsession of taking pictures of you after a heated session.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: established relationship; big cock gojo; size kink; lewd usage of the phone camera; creampie; breeding kink; p in v; blowjob; my attempt at dirty talk;

word count: 3.2k

...

..

someone's digital gallery was part of their privacy. some people don’t mind showing off their gallery, as they claim they have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. some other people do mind and prefer to even have a password lock to open the gallery app.

some people, like satoru gojo, simply don’t care. if it were up to him, he would exhibit his gallery in a museum, which would be named after you of course, because that's all his gallery is full of. 

hundreds of pictures of his beloved girlfriend, dozens of pictures of his precious of students, and just a couple of pictures of his old friends. 

you were the star in the majority of them. from the early stages of your relationship, to a photo he took just the night before of you in his sweatshirt. 

satoru loved taking pictures of everything around him: a beautifully made strawberry milkshake, you in a new dress, a bee pollinating a flower, a beaten up megumi, yuji with snort coming off his nose, you in your worst angles, a sleeping nanami with a piece of cheese on his forehead. 

many of them were innocent, safe to work, sinless. but the hidden album sitting at the bottom of his gallery app said otherwise. 

numerous pictures, videos, live photos of you in such lewd situations were adorning such obscene album. your face being the cover of most photos, however your shiny skin would also be in repeated media. 

he certainly had developed a habit of taking pictures of you before, during, and after sexy times. your fucked up face making his softening cock stand back up. he loved it. and you loved the attention he gave you. 

and oh how much he would abuse of such dirty album when you were away. either your boyfriend was in a mission overseas or you were out of town, he would often feel alone, his fist running down his sculpted abs while his long fingers danced around the screen, finding a photo or video to jerk off to. 

it had started as an innocent picture taken after one of your first make out sessions. your tall boyfriend wanted to capture the moment forever, engraving it infinitely in the memory of his phone. 

you two were sitting on the couch, both your legs on top of satoru's lap while your arms surrounded his neck, short nails caressing his baby hairs. 

two pairs of blue eyes looked at you with such love and devotion you were feeling your face heat up even more. you noticed the smeared lipstick on your boyfriend's flush lips and you giggled. 

"what's so funny, princess?" he smirked. 

"mmh, nothing, prince charm," you returned the smirk while tucking a few strands of white hair behind his red ear. "it's just my lipstick that's all over your face."

"oh?" satoru dramatically faked a gasp. "are you sure it's yours, sweet cheeks? mmm, could be mine, I use cherry flavored," he joked while taking one of his hands off your waist and stroking his thick thumb over your lips, ruining the little rest of your remaining lipstick. 

"toru stooop," another giggle escaped your mouth while you pushed his larger hand away. you grabbed the glossy lipstick from the table and applied it on, using satoru's black glasses to see your reflection. 

as soon as you finished, your mouth went flying to your boyfriend's face, loud kisses pressing on his rosy cheeks and corners of his lips. the tall man couldn't help but letting out a fit of boyish snickers while tightening his grip on your waist. 

his mouth would chase after yours before you would kiss another area of his pretty face, leaving no place untouched. until your lips finally landed on his.

colored lips painting smeared ones. you would swallow the agitated moans from your boyfriend, who couldn't stop his hands from roaming through your entire upper body and legs. wet sounds coming from your twirling tongues and spit-coated lips touching each other. 

satoru's mouth opened slightly, giving you space to explore his wet cavity with your muscle, the position you were in helping you hold onto his face to let your tongue work. 

after exchanging such quantities of saliva, you finally pulled away as satoru's whines filled your ears. 

"that was so hot, muffin' cake... got my dick all hard," he panted and you blew him a kiss while caressing his pretty face. you wanted to eat him. 

"you look pretty with my lipstick all around your face, toru," you placed a small smooch on the tip of his nose. 

your boyfriend could only grin wider as his hand went flying to his packet to grab his phone, opening the camera app to see himself on the screen. 

his usually wan skin was all pink. pale pink from his overspreading blush and a glittering magenta pink from your lip gloss. 

he couldn't help but snap a picture of himself and then two more of you in frame. one with you jutting out your kiss bitten lips while grabbing his chin. the other from a high angle where your entire bodies were displayed, his other hand grabbing firmly your waist while your arms were again around his neck, a big smile on both of your flushed faces. 

as your walls were clenching around satoru’s aching cock, the only thing on his mind was how good you made him feel. your warm face displayed on his view as you sat below him, your body moving at the rhythm of his hammering thrusts. 

"ah ah ah, toru," you panted while repeating his name like a mantra. the filthy aroma coming from the drying cum on your inner thighs filled your nostrils. satoru had already came on you once, and he was going big with a second one and probably a third one. 

"yeah, yeah... you take it, baby, c'mon, I know you can take another one," you could only tighten your grip around his length at his words, making him crunch his face cutely and moan loudly. 

you grabbed his biceps in a hurting hold when he increased his speed, pounding and beating your poor pussy, as if making sure his cock went all the way up your lungs. his mushroom tip caressing deliciously your cervix, his throbbing veins kissing your overly sensitive inner walls, the perfect curve of his lengthy cock molding your vagina in a way that made you wheeze. 

a pair of big hands grasped your waist tightly to kept you from moving so violently from his brutal pace. you enclosed your legs around satoru's narrow waist, although you could barely keep them up from the heavenly pleasure and the heat forming at your core. 

greedy pussy tensing impossibly snug around inches of delicious cock once you let your orgasm take over you. satoru let out one of the filthiest moans you had ever heard as you pussy claimed him. his full balls thudding against your ass cheeks, ready to expulse the cum inside you. 

"c'mon baby, give it to me, come inside me," you breathlessly pleaded as your hands moved to his nape, taking him closer to your face. "cum for me, my pretty boy," you kissed his rosy nose. 

satoru cried out loud as he felt his knot untie, becoming abruptly stiff to let his creamy liquid fill you again. your hands held his cheeks, his long white lashes touched his hot cheeks while his pretty lips kept letting out whines and small gasps. his long eyebrows furrowed at the luscious bliss he was feeling. satoru had such a beautiful orgasm face. 

as he came down, he started moving slowly, pushing his cum inside you even more. 

"oh baby cakes, that was so good..." he kept writhing slightly on top of you, trying not to collapse completely on you. "I love you so much."

you kissed lovingly his nose again and then pecked his lips. "I love you too, toru." 

once the big man above you deigned to sit up and take his softening dick off you, he eyed the sinful scene in front of him. your pussy hole was stretched out from his unkind girth, though it was mostly covered and spilling out his loads of his creamy sauce. your bruised lips painted in white and your inner thighs masked with love bites and marks from his previous foreplay. 

"look at you, sugar plum," satoru's ghost touch danced around your thighs and near your crotch, finally placing his large hand on your belly as he grabbed his phone. "I need to capture this moment, I don't know when I'll be able to see you like this again."

"you say it as if we didn't have sex like three times a week," you deadpanned as one of your hands went to your leg to keep it from slightly trembling after such intense session. your other hand intertwined itself with satoru's one laying on your belly. 

"may I?" his blue eyes pleaded as he raised his phone, showing you the camera app icon. you nodded a bit sheepishly. this was a new little fixation your boyfriend was developing so you weren't used to it yet. "thank you, baby. you look incredibly good."

even though you averted your gaze, the flickering flashlight made you crook your neck, seeing your unduly excited boyfriend taking multiple photos from different angles, moving your legs to get a better shot and even placing the tip of his hardening cock at your entrance. 

another picture of his favorites resembled the moment you gave him one of the craziest and sloppiest heads you have given him. 

it had been a day you were feeling hot the moment you rose from bed, probably due to some ovulation occurring inside your body. or perhaps it was the pretty face and angel eyes of your boyfriend on your wallpaper that made you agitated. 

either way, you assaulted your boyfriend the moment he walked in your shared apartment, approaching him with a sly smirk and wondering hands that went straight to his fat tits and sculpted abs. your lips enveloped his in a heated make up session, your hands unable to leave his body and his hands gripping your waist and hips, gripping your ass furiously. 

you swayed your hips along his until he was pushed onto the couch, manspreading automatically, making his lap deadly inviting. 

“feeling eager, aren’t we?” he grinned coyly while you made your way between his muscular thighs, your hands dancing through his lap. his larger hands moved anxiously as they removed his uniform jacket and the expensive undershirt, leaving his burly upper body exposed to the chilly inside breeze, rosy nipples perking up. 

“sorry baby, you just look so… delicious right now,” you mumbled between agitated breaths as your lips left open kisses on his abs, slender fingers playing with the waistband of his pants. 

“don’t ever apologize for something like this, cookie pie,” satoru’s hands played with your hair; messy locks falling on your face were rapidly pulled out by his thick digits. 

you giggled softly at his sudden aroused state, your voice making the hardening length beneath you twitch. it jumped so violently that it tickled your collarbone, as you were still focused on his abdomen, your chest was met with his hot crotch. 

“princess…” satoru moaned softly as one of your fingers played with his hard nipple, your lips trailing down his happy trail. “you can’t make me this hot the moment i come home and do too much foreplay,” he wanted to shove your pretty face down his dick already, stretching the muscles around your lips. 

a smirk locked itself on your face at his words. your hands finally daring to lower his pants along with his underwear. satoru lifted his hips to help you. and just like that, his pretty enlarged cock sprung out almost hitting your face. 

the moment your hand gripped the base, satoru let out a long satisfying sigh, his hands lightly encouraging you to get closer to his length. 

you started pumping his cock up and down, smearing his pre-cum on his head down the length of his cock. your mouth salivated at the sight of the pretty cock in front of you, several inches of thick meat, a red needy head, and two pair of heavy balls. they all were waiting for your warm tongue to embrace them. 

the more you jerked him off, the more liquid exited his mushroom head. to add more natural lubricant and make it easier to fist his cock, you spit on it. viscous blob glittered satoru’s length all the way down his full balls. 

eager hand pumping him and tugging occasionally at his tip, drawing loud moans and whines from satoru. once your lips kissed his red tip, large hands nudged you into his cock, feeling a stinging sensation in your lip corners from the heavy stretch of his thick member. 

“oh yeah… yeah… huff, just like that…” you could hear your boyfriend’s pants once your head started moving, recreating the same rhythm of your hand. bobbing your head up and down, letting his tip caress the deep of your throat, relaxing your muscles so it could reach deeper. satoru had such a long dick that was always a challenge to suck, though it was delicious. 

“i love your mouth so much… it feels so warm, you are so perfect for my cock…” he cursed under his breath as you hummed, vibrations causing his cock to shoot various amounts of pre-cum, which went straight down your esophagus. “yeah just like that schnookums,suck my soul off.” 

you hollowed your cheeks to apply pressure to his thick cock, sucking him while using one of your hands to pump the inches your mouth couldn’t reach. your other hand massaged his balls, which were damp with your spit and his pre-cum. the pubic hairs belonging to his sexy happy trail were wet just as much. 

“baby, baby, baby,” satoru huffed repeatedly as his massive hands tugged at your hair, one of them cupping your chin. that was the signal that your boyfriend was nearing to his release. 

however just as you were about to focus solely on his thick sensitive head, a flash blinded you for a second. your eyes looking up at satoru grinning widely between heavy breaths, his phone held high in his hand. 

“smile for the camera, princess, you look incredibly gorgeous with my cock in your mouth,” another flash on your face as satoru took a live picture, which also captured the intense release of cum spilling from his tip. a groan escaped his rosy lips as the palm on your cheek urged your mouth to open wider to take his cream. your hand stroking him tightly to extract the remaining droplets of cum. 

satoru cursed breathlessly as his thumb unconsciously kept pressing the button, snapping pictures of your mouth full of his white liquid, lips just as white. 

countless of pictures of your ass and tits adorned satoru's hidden album. they were his favorite to take, positioning his phone camera in a certain angle to make your ass and his cock stand out. most of the tits pics on his gallery were initially sent from you to him, saving them immediately to his device and going straight to his hidden album. 

it had become an habit for satoru to yank out his phone when he was pounding you from behind, your ass glowing from the constant sweat. 

massive palms holding your hips firmly as he was hypnotized by the sizable stretch of your pussy, fat cock disappearing into a pair of swollen lips. your arms were aching from holding your upper body, opting better to give up and plump over the expensive sheets. 

"what happened, muffin? already feeling tired?" you heard the teasing voice of your boyfriend from behind, the raspy sounds going straight to your core where your orgasm was building. "if i remember correctly, you were the one claiming for going for multiple rounds," he panted as his thrusts were becoming a bit erratic. 

the side of your face was glued to the mattress, as your spine arched even more at the pressure of his mushroom head hitting your sweet spots. whines and incoherent mumbling could only leave your mouth. 

one of his large hands began messaging your bum, squeezing at the fat of your hips, as it continued its way down your bent back, caressing your hot skin. his long fingers tracing the curve of your waist and rubbing the underside of your boob. 

you weren't quite sure what it was, but the coil holding up your release unraveled at the soft feelings of satoru's big hands on your back. your own hands snugly gripped the sheets underneath you as you came, kiss bitten lips agape, and eyes tightly shut. 

"ohh baby..." the tall man choke at the tightening of your walls around his enlarged cock, crushing his throbbing length. "fuck you are so goddamn tight..." he struggled to breathe as his oxygen-deprived brain filled with endorphins, wishing nothing more than to live this moment over and over again. your own moans and mewls claiming his consciousness. 

just as he used all six eyes to scan the messy room, his gaze landed on his phone laying on the night stand. the hand stroking your spine sprinted to grab his phone. you watched him through lidded eyes as he strove to open his camera app, fingers moving anxiously as mind-blowing pleasure took control of his muscles. 

rapture was threatening to break him apart, hard cock hammering your puffy pussy, small gasps leaving your mouth at each thrust. 

the clicking sound coming from satoru's phone buzzed distorted, you were certain you were at the verge of passing out from the overstimulation from the slamming. 

satoru was about to take the fifth picture of your ass eating up his cock as he felt his belly whorl, hips becoming rigid as his balls tightened, hard cock resenting the blasting pressure of his release. a loud moan coming from your boyfriend rushed to your ears as you felt his warm creamy liquid paint your insides.

after gaining composure from such luscious discharge, satoru kept snaping pictures of your ass, especially taking a series of continuous pictures of him withdrawing his big cock. white creaming his cock as viscous leakage oozed off your stretched hole. 

"these pictures are going straight to the fav album," satoru cursed under his breath. once he was fully out of you, your limp body collapsed over the bed. his strong arms twirled you around, raising chest now facing the ceiling. you were so fucked out, about to lose consciousness and allow serenity flow over your dilated veins. 

"fuck sugarplum, you look heavenly," satoru said softly, his fingers clicking once more on the snap button. "thank you so much for allowing me to capture this moment forever, im simply a lamb next to you, goddess..."

your sprawled body, nipples hardened due to the chill air, belly full of satoru's cum, white-painted leaking pussy, and your cock-drunk face made such perfect wallpaper in satoru's mind, he couldn't waste this opportunity to snap a few more pictures of you. 

after all, his gallery was actually yours, since your body and face occupied most of it. 

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks @soulaires <3

[hrtbeomi]

⋆ ˒ 💭 ۫  ּ ROMANCE IS NOT DEAD IF YOU KEEP IT JUST YOURS !

pairing: actor!gojo x singer!reader wc: 0,3k            warnings: not proofread ‼️, reader's album is basically reputation by miss tswift 🙈

a/n: i've had this in my drafts for a while now,, hope you like it >< i just looove actor!gojo and if you'd like to see more of him leave a comment!

WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE INTERVIEW WITH GOJO SATORU AND Y/N

3. 2. 1. ACTION !

As the camera clicked on, you sensed the beginning of another recording session. Satoru, next to you, shifted in his seat about before the start of the video.

"Hey there, it's l/n y/n," you chimed in with a grin, "and i'm Gojo Satoru," the white-haired male beside you smoothly finished, "and this is our Wired auto-complete interview!" both of you beamed as the staff handed over boards containing the internet's most searched questions.

Satoru held your board while you held his, diving into the depths of what the online people wanted to know about you.

Q. "Who's y/n l/n's 'gorgeous' about?"

With a smirk, you retorted, "sorry to burst your bubble, person-who-searched-that but 'gorgeous' is about your mom," you answered, eliciting laughter from Satoru and the crew.

"Lame! Just tell them the truth" Satoru teased, well aware of the implications behind his words.

"That's the only truth," you replied, feigning innocence before swiftly moving on.

Q. "Is y/n l/n's song 'call it what you want' about Gojo Satoru?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stuttered, "That's... quite the assumption," failing miserably at masking your nerves.

The crew chuckled, mentioning how your fandom had already orchestrated a fictional relationship between you two.

"We know, next they'll claim we're expecting a baby or something!" Satoru quipped, earning a horrified look from you, "Alright, my turn now."

Q. "Who's Gojo Satoru's favorite actor?"

"I'd say my good ol' friend, Geto Suguru! He's a top-notch," Satoru replied, reminiscing about the movies and series they did together.

"True, i'm a big fan of his work" you confessed, prompting a playful pout from Satoru.

"Maybe he's not that great anymore," he mumbled in mock jealousy.

"You're good too!" you reassured him amidst laughter.

Q. "Is Gojo Satoru married to y/n l/n?"

"Spiritually i am" Satoru quipped, earning a playful jab from you.

"Don't encourage them, Satoru!" you scolded him.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," he replied unrepentantly.

Q. "Is Gojo Satoru in a relationship?"

"I am. . .not! i'm a lone wolf" Satoru declared with a hint of melancholy, though everyone in the room knew the truth but as you looked at him, his convincing lie almost had you fooled, if it weren't for the fact that you, his actual girlfriend, stood right beside him.

"Alright, alpha boy, next question!" you exclaimed before the tables turned.

Q. "What's the name of y/n l/n's next album?"

"I've just released 'reputation' can't I catch a break?" you exclaimed, playfully collapsing out of your chair.

"How dramatic," Satoru chuckled before suggesting, "You should write a song about me though."

CUT !

[BONUS] [CLIP THAT WAS CUT FROM THE VIDEO]

"Sure, it'll be called 'gorgeous,'" you teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"The greatest song ever! Although 'So It Goes' is my personal favorite," Satoru grinned mischievously, almost revealing too much of your relationship before you intervened.

"Too much information!" you laughed, covering his mouth to keep him from saying more.

© 2024 HRTBEOMI

[hyunjinsjeans]

He Knows (Seungmin ver.)

Han ver. | Felix ver. | I.N ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Seungmin knows already, he doesn’t know-know, but he has seen the signs and he knows. He is trying to have patience but then it hits him: do you know?

Type: Fluff 🧸, (lazy) smut 🔞, female reader 💃

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, sexually explicit content

Word count: 2959

AN: THIS IS THE TRUEST HE KNOWS VERSION BECAUSE SEUNGMIN IS WHAT? THAT’S RIGHT, A MENACE. No, but seriously: this is the piece to rule them all. Also, my first little smut scene on this blog (if it’s absolutely awful let me know and we can never do that again lmao).

“Minnie?” 

You walk into the dressing room, expecting to find the boys there, but the only people sitting inside are Changbin!Reader and Han!Reader. The pair turned their heads in your direction. 

“Hi, they’re out in the hall taking pictures,” Changbin!Reader explained, reading your intentions in a flash. 

I.n’s girlfriend entered after you and you two sat down on the long sofas around the coffee table with the other girls to talk about the possible plans to celebrate Chan!Reader’s birthday. The conversation came to a sudden stop when through the door walked the guys, the four of you turned to watch them as they came in with their hands on either their ear pieces or their belts as some staff began securing their battery packs behind their waist. 

Seungmin reached out to you when you made grabby hands, his hair was freshly cut and he looked what you had described as “very incredibly handsome”. He humored you, a rare occurrence, and stood still behind you on the sofa as you reached back and squeezed his arms with your small hands. You looked at him upside down as you arched over the backrest to offer him a gleeful smile. 

In all reality, Seungmin has been struggling to be normal around you. It was all due to a discovery he made almost a month ago. 

It started one morning while he was getting ready to leave for a rehearsal for the group’s upcoming fan meeting. He was stressed because he was also juggling recording sessions for his first full length solo album so his time with you at home was limited.

He had gone into your bathroom to do his business while you stood in front of your large closet, picking out an outfit for a special visit at the hospital that day. You were a traumatologist and some of the biggest investors were going to your workplace for a day-long tour. Seungmin heard all about it the night before and just before closing the bathroom door he suggested you wear a black and white skirt and jacket ensemble he bought you for your birthday. You thought about it while he was out of sight. And out of your sight, Seungmin looked for a roll of toilet paper - seeing as he just finished the last flimsy squares of the old one. He looked in the cupboard under the sink. His hands bumped into your small collection of period products and he moved them to the side to reach for the toilet paper behind them. 

And while he was sufficiently happy as he finished and washed his hands, his brain lit up like a light bulb. Why do you still have those supplies? When was the last time you had your period? 

He is not a clueless man, in fact Seungmin has known to read the signs from the beginning of your relationship. He did have a sister growing up after all… So he learned to recognise the telltale signs of a period in you. You had a special pair of jet black leggings you wore at home during those days. You were careful to shower and pamper yourself with softly scented soaps and lotions, you also made a bigger effort to make it to your yoga classes after work and stopped your caffeine intake altogether during the week of. You also preferred to be the big spoon unless the cramps and the blues got the better of you - which was rare.

Seungmin knew when he had another look at the boxes in the cupboard that you were neat. You only bought enough for each cycle, trying your best at keeping your waste to a minimum by buying only the necessary amounts every time. He tried to remember the last time he slept with his back to you - which was not his preferred sleeping position when he knew you had cramps but he respected that you felt most comfortable holding him. In a way he liked to feel your arm around him and hear your soft breathing the moment you fell asleep. Was it…two months ago? He tried to think, and he realized he could not give it a timestamp. 

He walked out of the bathroom with his brow furrowed as he watched you standing in front of the mirror now. You were wearing a pink pantsuit. The baby pink blouse looked different. Seungmin went to his side of the closet to pick up his bag and a cap to take with him. 

“I think pants will be more appropriate, I’m going to wear the other outfit for the fundraiser next week” you mentioned as you finished putting on some earrings. “Anyway, it’s so nice to wear something other than the scrubs!” 

Your husband stared as you twirled for him, he was dumbfounded. The top three buttons of your blouse looked… tight. Any more pressure would have the buttons burst, this made the lightbulb in his brain go bright again. Oh.

Ever the smarty pants, Seungmin grabbed your phone from the bedside table and looked at your cycle tracking app - and of course it had been neglected for the past couple of months. There were no period logs. You looked at him as you pulled your shoes on, not concerned with your husband’s curious eyes on your screen, you two were used to grabbing each other’s phone and knew each other’s passwords. 

He set a reminder on your phone, speaking as he did so. 

“Could you get more toilet paper and toothpaste? We’re about to run out…”

“Oh, yeah! I’ll get them on my way from work tonight, don’t worry.”

“I set up a reminder.” Seungmin handed you your phone as he went to walk past you. 

He smiled and allowed for you to cup his cheeks and kiss his lips before he could go. 

“Enjoy your day, Minnie,” you wished him, “don’t be grumpy with the boys!”

His reply made you giggle:

“I’m not grumpy, they’re getting old for their fooling around…especially Chan”

•••

That night after coming back from work with a couple of grocery bags, you managed to start making dinner before Seungmin walked through the door. 

You sat together in the kitchen to have dinner once he showered. Then you sat together in the living room to watch tv for a little while and enjoy the quiet company of each other after a long day at work. One thing led to another and the two of you wound up having sex right then and there instead of finishing watching that week’s episode of your favorite drama.

While you were sitting on the couch with your top half against his back, Seungmin started rubbing your arm absentmindedly. An act that on its own was pure, innocent and meant nothing more than that he enjoyed being there with you. What meant more was the way he started kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder, and then how you tilted your head to the side and found his head with your hand, turning your body on the sofa to kiss his lips. 

You found his lips against yours to be demanding, as they usually were. You let his tongue enter your mouth and his hands landed on your ass, pulling you closer into his body. It could have been left as that, a night making out and grinding against each other, but you pulled yourself closer by holding onto his shoulders. And Seungmin allowed your hands to travel down his front all the way to his pants and venture inside to palm him roughly, receiving a groan as response as your small, delicate hand worked his semi-hard cock. 

He buried his nose into the crook of your neck and you smiled at the ceiling when he moaned against your skin. Your hand wrapped around his member and you worked him slowly, up and down, and again, and again. Seungmin squeezed you tight and let you get him almost all the way to a mess inside his pants, but he stopped you just in time to pull you off him and get you on all fours on top of your fluffy blanket on the couch. He swiftly got rid of your cute pajama shorts and snuck two tentative fingers along your folds. He thought it was plenty ready as not only did his fingers get slipped along it quite easily but also you let out a soft airy moan. He kissed your shoulder once again and with the help of his hand he aligned himself to your entrance, easing into you slowly. You dropped onto your elbows once he was fully in, hugging a throw pillow against your chest. He loved to see you like this, a mess for him, unable to even hold yourself up for him to fuck into you. He pulled almost all the way out and then thrust in again, both of you moaning at the motions, you could feel the movement of the whole couch beneath you as he picked up his pace but you didn’t care at that moment when Seungmin was reaching so deep into your most vulnerable spot, making you repeat his name over and over. 

He wanted to hold you, though; as much as he wanted to fuck you, you were still the love of his life and sometimes he wanted to have at least a small romantic gesture to offer. 

And oh, how romantic of him to pull you from the couch and make you sit on his cock with your back to him while he snaked his arms around you under your shirt. Of course you were not wearing a bra, you were pretty much ready for bed, so he found your breasts almost immediately. Nipples already hard from the stimulation between your legs. 

“Minnie,” your hands found his own cupping your breasts. “Minnie, I’m so close…” you moaned into the air, head thrown back onto his shoulder. You were now bouncing on his cock.

“Then cum,” he kissed your neck and then sucked on the skin, “cum for me right now,” he whispered into your ear.

And it was as if he had given you a command, you felt the undeniable undoing of something inside you, tingles all over your body ran down your legs to the tips of your toes and up your torso through your back to the last hair on your head. You could tell your pussy was clenching around Seungmin and he gripped your hips through your orgasm to help you ride it out while he chased his own high. 

You reached for his hands when you felt it all starting to overwhelm you again, his cock so deep still drilling into your sensitive cunt. He pressed his lips into your neck and came hard behind you, your name slipping in a strained moan. His hips stuttered against you as warm ropes of cum filled you, thankfully you’d laid down a blanket on the couch before…

Seungmin was amazed at how right his suspicions from that morning were, while he cupped your breasts he noticed his hands were entirely full. Full in a way they had not been before. And he could tell a while later when you both were all cleaned up and curled up in bed. He could tell that you were pregnant. 

He was the big spoon for now, arm safely wrapped around your tired but content body after the living room sex that had you blushing and smiling once it was over. “We can’t keep doing this here…” you had said.  But that was the last of Seungmin’s worries… Did you know? Did you already figure it out? Have you been hiding other signs of it from him?

He figured maybe you wanted to surprise him and tell him at a later stage, so he kept quiet to protect your tender heart from his smart mouth. It has been a problem in the past, this time he decided it would not be. 

Seungmin would list every new symptom in his mind. 

The next thing that came, he noticed, was the food aversions. You started switching shampoo and soaps, then the detergent and suddenly you could not stand the smell of sweet things like fruit, most of all watermelon and peaches. You would smile at him if he was eating it, but he would see you swallow hard and step away from the plate holding the fruit. He also noticed how although you were a self-declared nap hater, you were taking naps anywhere you could. You went to see the boys practice one afternoon after your shift at the hospital and Seungmin turned away for five minutes only to turn back to you and find you asleep on Han!Reader’s lap while the other girls gossiped in the small sofas at the back of the studio. 

Changbin and Lee Know noticed something else too, and it was the one thing he needed help seeing. It was that thing people referred to as “the glow”. Han had been the first to inadvertently notice it, he had just bleached his hair silver and when he saw you he jumped with interest. 

“What did you do to your hair?” Han asked, a childlike wonder evident in his eyes. 

“Oh, what did you do to yours?!” You stared at his new look with wide eyes. 

The two of you began talking about your hair while Seungmin dealt with I.n’s teasing. Changbin and Lee Know came up to him, both of them well versed in the topic at hand. I.n walked away at Felix’s request to help him with something. 

Changbin crossed his thick arms over his chest while Lee Know rested his elbow on Seungmin’s unamused shoulder. The three stared at your interaction with Han.

“How far along are you too?” Lee Know said in a casual tone. 

Seungmin’s head dipped and he sighed.

“Keep it down…”

The two older ones exchanged a look. 

“Is it a secret?” Changbin wondered. “Wait, no…Does she know you know?”

Now all three of them were watching you talk to Han and Hyunjin while the latter inspected a strand of your shiny hair in his hand.

“No,” Seungmin admitted, “at least she hasn’t told me anything.”

Lee Know knew the situation, recognizing how similar it felt to his own experience. His own wife had been scared about giving him the news… he patted Seungmin’s back. 

“Don’t be harsh about it,” he advised, “how did you figure it out?” 

Seungmin shrugged, “just…did.”

Changbin hummed, “Is she tired all the time yet?”

Your husband nodded, “yeah, and she hates the smell of anything sweet.”

Both of the older members oh’ed in understanding. 

“Well, good luck man.” Changbin dropped his hands to his sides and squeezed Seungmin’s shoulder, “this is the easy part. Anything you need, we got you.”

Lee Know nodded in agreement and then he gave his friend a softer look, “you’ve got this.”

Even though he knew, he was surprised you had not said anything yet. Could it really be that you did not know? He watched you carefully at home. You were skipping yoga in favor of taking naps or reviewing medical journals, some nights you curled under a blanket with a cup of the spiciest ramen available at the store around the corner. You were having breakfast one morning, and you had a chili pepper on your plate. 

“Uh, Y/N?” he startled you, “what are you eating?”

You were so incredibly glowy that morning. You had yet to pull your hair into a ponytail but you were wearing your usual minimal makeup and your hair was blow dried the night before so now it looked fluffy and shiny. Your skin was clear and soft, it looked wet but not oily. Seungmin was mesmerized, he could not be the only one to realize of just how stupidly radiant you looked lately.

“Mmm,” you licked your lips and smiled at Seungmin, “I’ve been really craving some spicy food lately… I think it’s got to do with vitamin d, I’ll get some supplements later.”

The careless admittance of this finally confirmed his worst fear. You did not know. 

And you succumbed to morning sickness only a day later. Seungmin was sure you would wake up and take a pregnancy test, but it turned out you complained of “eating too much spicy food” and that was it. 

It’s now time to go on stage, Seungmin’s been good and behaved for a month already. He tried not to think about it but he is eager. He decided the moment he is in front of you that he is not going to wait any longer. 

You wish him a fun show and smile at him, giving him a fist up and a “fighting!” 

“Hey, before I go on stage…” Seungmin looked you in the eye. 

You waited for him to speak and go speechless when he says the thing he waited so long to say. 

“I don’t want you to push yourself, I know most of the time fans like to stand during the entire show, but please sit down if you are tired.” He saw your confusion, eyes searched his face for clues on what he was talking about. “I know.”

“Huh?” You looked puzzled. 

As a hint, Seungmin turned his eyes to your middle, effectively staring at your stomach for a few seconds before looking up to find your brow un-furrowing. You gasped and your hands covered your mouth with embarrassment, then they dropped to your stomach.

“But I didn’t tell you!” 

Seungmin scratched the back of his head, a sound between a sigh and a laugh left his mouth. 

“You didn’t have to. I figured it out.”

“But I haven’t even heard back from the lab, do you really think it’ll be positive?”

------

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[metalhoops]

The place was Chicago. The year was 1990. 

It was early enough into the year that the term ‘1990′ still sounded space aged. It’d been the 80s for as long as Eddie cared to remember. It was late enough in the year that everyone kept telling him winter was over. Nevertheless, he wore the leather jacket he’d ‘borrowed’ from his ex-boyfriend. Spring in Chicago was worse than a million L.A. winters. 

Eddie hated California on principle, but his record label was in Burbank. Despite the band being one of the biggest rising stars in the metal scene, he didn’t have room to get cocky. He’d spent the break between tours last year with his aforementioned ex-boyfriend in his New York apartment. 

The place had been small enough that smoking with the windows open felt like a hotbox session. There was one window in the apartment. It was in the bathroom and only opened an inch if you could get it to open at all. It wasn’t the rockstar life he’d fantasised about back in high school, but he was getting by. 

So how the hell did he end up in Chicago? He was getting there. 

As the filmmaker he’d slept with in Toronto had told him, opening in media res was the best way to hold an audience's attention. Was that what Eddie was doing? Trying to retell the shitshow of his life back to himself? Trying to make sense of it all, make it climax to something meaningful? Maybe. 

Eddie had gotten into the habit of keeping a journal, mostly for lyrics. The band was meant to be recording their third full-length studio album in a matter of months and Eddie only had three songs that were worth anything. To make matters worse, the other two had been concept albums. 

Corroded Coffin’s first and sophomore albums had been different enough that the band hadn’t been boxed into anything. Yes, they were a metal band, but they got their fair share of punks, goths and even a handful of yuppies that’d shown up to their gigs in the past. Hell, their opening act had been a grunge band. It sounded pretentious as fuck, but Eddie wasn’t afraid to transcend genres. The metal scene was changing. They had to learn to change with it.

The nail in his goddamn Corroded Coffin was that the band were known for their concept albums. Their first album Knightmare was a D&D-inspired thrash, metal album. Think Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, with a few more homoerotic undertones. Their next album, Dream Dimension was more sci-fi leaning. It told the story of an unnamed group of kids who’d stumbled into another dimension. It was a little more glam metal. Some of the B-sides like ‘My Year’ and ‘Lakeside Interlude’ had been downright shoegaze. One magazine had likened the story to Dream Warriors, which Eddie thought was fitting. 

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t have ideas for the next album. That was the problem. Eddie did have an idea. He just couldn’t write the damn thing. It was meant to be his magnum opus, the third album that’d stand on its own but also interconnect with the other two. 

He’d call it Daydream. It followed the story of a white-collar guy living the perfect nuclear family life, complete with a white picket fence and a Malibu Barbie, dream house. The thing was, the dude was miserable. He’d spend all his free time daydreaming about adventure and forgotten realms. 

The kicker was halfway through the album the listener would realise the guy was the titular knight from Knightmare. His perfect suburban life was turned upside down when his kid disappeared à la portal to another dimension. It’d be perfect. All Eddie had to do is write it, and that was the damn thing. He couldn’t.  

All his albums were about something. There was always a meaning beneath the meaning. Knightmare? Easy, that was about escapism. Dream Dimension? It was about growing up too fast. Daydream? That was more complicated. 

Daydream was why Eddie needed to write in his journal. It was why he needed to remember that the year was 1990 and that he was in Chicago. 

The thing was, Eddie didn’t remember writing Dream Dimension. There was a 1988 sized hole in his memory between their first and second US tours. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what caused it. In their early days, they were practically paid in 8 Balls and party favours. Eddie always had an addictive personality and getting into anything stronger than weed had been a bad idea.

It wasn’t until his bandmates had an intervention that he’d been able to see the forest through the trees. Realising there was a whole chunk of his life he’d missed out on was petrifying. So, Eddie kept a journal. 

He’d been sober for almost a year. He was practically fucking straight-edge without all the pretentiousness that came with it, but he knew one slip-up was enough to send him spiralling. That was how he ended up in Chicago.

It was the last show of their Dream Dimension tour, and they were in Chicago. Eddie was always lively on stage. Gareth had abandoned one of his drumsticks during a solo only for Eddie to run across the stage, slip and bite the dust with his ankle going one way and the rest of him going another. 

He’d woken up in a hospital with a lump on his ankle the size of a baseball and the uncomfortably familiar feeling of being high off his face on painkillers. 

To answer the question, Daydream was about getting older. It was about being okay with getting older. It was about doing it your own way. Back in the thick of it all, it’d looked like Eddie wasn’t going to make it to thirty. He was trying to be okay with the idea that he might. 

Last year, Jeff got married to a nice girl who’d been their costume designer for their first music video. It’d shaken him in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He was in his mid-twenties, yet suddenly he felt old. Wayne had retired and with Eddie’s help brought a Winnebago. He was probably fishing in Nebraska right now. 

See, the thing about the titular character in Daydream, was that he’d conformed to what life was supposed to be. By the end of the album, he’d have left that life behind for another, one of action and adventure, because Eddie could never understand why Dorothy wanted to leave Oz for fucking Kansas. Fuck Kansas, on principal.

Something about the album wasn’t clicking. Knightmare was leaving his boring life but ultimately, he was alone. Was that what getting older was all about? Being okay with being alone? When you were gay in 1990, it might be. 

After the tour ended he hadn’t wanted to go back to his apartment in Burbank. He hated it there. He’d entertained the idea of heading back to New York but it was depressing. It reminded him of Jack, and how so many of their friends weren’t around anymore. 

When all was said and done, he and Gareth decided to stay in Chicago. He never said it out loud, but Eddie was sure his friend had stuck around to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes, Eddie just wanted someone to come home to. Maybe that was why he’d had a string of shit boyfriends. If you weren’t picky, people would walk all over you. 

Jack had been the one that’d made Eddie swear off dating. It wasn’t worth the trouble. He’d rather die alone. His name wasn’t even Jack, it was Corey, but everyone called him Jack. Short for Jacket. Eddie wished he was joking. That should’ve been the first red flag. 

The thing about Corey was he always wore the same goddamn custom-made, leather jacket, all year round. He’d liked having sex in front of his full-length mirror with Eddie always on his knees, which should’ve been at least a yellow flag. He never liked anything gentle. Corey liked the idea of having a rockstar boyfriend more than he actually liked Eddie or monogamy. That was why when Eddie left, he took his jacket. 

He didn’t know why he was still wearing it, but he was. He pulled it on as he hobbled in his moon boot across the street from his and Gareth’s rented apartment to the record store. He hadn’t gone outside in a week, and he was about to start climbing up the goddamn walls. He just needed to go somewhere, and Eddie loved record stores, especially little indie ones. 

Once inside, Eddie noticed the place was practically empty save for the guy behind the counter. They had an eclectic mix of records and zines lining the shelves. Eddie was glad the place was quiet. He didn’t have to worry about being spotted. It wasn’t like they were The Beatles. They could go places but in a big enough crowd, he was sure to turn a few heads. Some days, Eddie just wanted to disappear. 

They had Corroded Coffin records on the display shelf and a couple of magazines with his band's name on the cover, which made pride swell in Eddie’s chest, but he wasn’t here for stroking his ego. He wanted to know what other people were doing and get back in touch with the scene. 

He was busy sifting through the bargain bin when he felt someone slide in beside him. He cringed, almost expecting it to be some over-enthused metal head with a pen and a Corroded Coffin tee shirt, but it was just the dude behind the counter.  

“Sorry, can I squeeze past?” the guy mumbled, a crate of records awkwardly tucked beneath his shoulder.

Eddie did his best to make himself small, his dumbass ankle making a simple task seem like an effort. He didn’t miss the way the man’s free hand brushed over his side as he passed, as though trying to assure Eddie stayed stable. 

“Place sure is quiet,” Eddie observed glancing over at the man.

His jeans were fitted, tight in all the right places. He’d rolled up the cuffs of his shirt to reveal more of his bicep than Eddie deemed necessary and god his hair. There was something about his hair. Something about him seemed familiar. Eddie really hoped they hadn’t hooked up once. That’d be awkward as hell. 

“Yeah, we usually close around five,” The man replied putting an album on the shelf. 

It was almost six. Shit. 

Eddie hated when people did that. They treated him differently because his name was in the papers. Everyone wanted something from him, and they thought doing favours was a good way to win him over. It wasn’t. The guy could clearly see something shift in Eddie. 

“It’s no big deal. I have to stay an hour late to replace the stock, plus my roommate has a girl over, so I’d rather be here,” The boy laughed, shooting a look at Eddie over his shoulder, a stray strand of his perfect goddamn hair falling in his face. 

The boy paused, teeth worrying away at his lower lip, his hand falling to his hip as his eyes searched Eddie's face. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. 

And there it was. Sometimes people did that. They played dumb about who he was before making a big goddamn deal out of it. Eddie suddenly wanted to crawl back to his apartment and spend another month in isolation. 

The boy snapped his fingers in triumph.

“Munson,” He practically shouted and holy fucking shit, that wasn’t what Eddie expected. 

No one knew his last name, not his real one. Everyone changed their names when they got famous. He’d gone for something simple, Eddie Emerson, it had some alliteration, just like Corroded Coffin. It wasn’t too far from his real name but not even the die-hards knew him as Munson. 

Then Eddie remembered. 

This guy was Steve goddamn Harrington. He didn’t remember many people from high school, but he remembered Steve. 

“Harrington,” Eddie breathed in disbelief. To his surprise, Steve screwed up his nose. 

“Unfortunately,” He admitted and stuck out a hand expectantly. Eddie leaned down and clasped Steve’s hand. From what he remembered of Steve, the guy had never been this friendly. 

“Nice to re-meet you I guess. I’d like to think I’ve changed a little in over five years.” He had, Eddie didn’t know how to explain how he knew, he just did. It was something about the way the boy held himself. 

“What brings you to Chicago?” He asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that one of Eddie’s records was sitting on the shelf beside him. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air to find someone who didn’t know who he was. He could keep the charade up a little bit longer. 

“Oh you know, work stuff,” Eddie answered vaguely, toying with his hair. 

That was something he did when he was flirting and holy shit, he needed to squash that right goddamn now. He wasn’t looking to date anybody, and he remembered Steve being very straight in high school. He needed to save himself from another heartbreak. 

“You live in Chicago now?” Eddie asked. The‘ because you didn’t seem like the type to ever leave’ was implied. 

“Yeah. Rob, my roommate, she practically dragged me here. We’ve been attached at the hip since I graduated. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else I wanted to be,” Steve answered. 

A little detail about the statement screamed for Eddie’s attention. 

“The same roommate that has a girl over?” He pressed and watch Steve fold his arms over his chest, all huffy indignation locked and loaded, begging for Eddie to choose his next words wisely. 

“The same,” he confirmed. Now that Eddie knew, he noticed they were selling a couple of queer zines. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve might just be progressive. 

“I thought you were meant to be the lady's man, Steve,” Eddie tried hoping that was enough to make Steve’s defences fall. To his surprise, Steve snorted and shook his head. 

“Like I said, lots changed since high school. My luck in the dating department couldn’t be worse,” he admitted as he returned to stacking the shelves. 

Eddie watched the planes of his back move beneath his shirt, wanting to push himself against him, to feel what it was like for Steve to move beneath him.

He really needed to get a hold of himself. 

“Couldn’t be worse than my luck,” Eddie rebutted offhandedly. 

Steve shook his head and shot Eddie another glance over his shoulder. He inhaled deeply as though preparing to tell a long story. Eddie leaned against the shelf to show Steve he was all ears. 

“Last month, I went on a date with a girl and she asked me if she could call me by her ex-boyfriend’s name,” Steve began. 

Eddie screwed up his nose in response. 

“Worse still, I was so shocked she’d asked, I just agreed to it.” It was Eddie’s turn to snort. 

“Stevie, you didn’t.” 

Stevie. Goddamn Stevie. Don’t do this to yourself, Munson. Pet names are one step away from a full-blown crush. 

“I did. Do I look like a ‘Juan’ to you?” Steve asked honestly. The question had Eddie doubled over in stitches. 

“Alright, alright. That’s pretty bad, but that’s one bad date,” Eddie reasoned. 

“Dude, I wasn’t finished. The girl before that realised she was a lesbian, while on a date with me. Which is like... the third time that’s happened,” Steve admitted.

Eddie’s hand had betrayed him and returned to toy with a strand of his hair. He hid behind it as he tried to mask a laugh. This guy did have shit luck. 

“You’re a lesbian magnet,” Eddie reasoned watching as Steve hid behind his hands. 

“And the time before that, I thought I was getting somewhere with a guy. We’d been on three dates before he told me he had a wife.” 

Steve made the next confession a little quieter than the others, a little more reserved. Eddie felt the hairs on his arm stand on end. Steve had changed since high school.

“Once I hooked up with a guy who’d only give me head if I sang to him while he did it,” Eddie admitted, feeling the need to get Steve off the defensive and add to the pity party. He watched the boy’s features shift.

“Oh wow, that’s bad. You should’ve pretended to be tone-deaf,” Steve reasoned, once more proving he had no idea what Eddie did for a living. 

“See I was torn between that and singing La Cucaracha at the top of my lungs.” Steve snorted, honest to god snorted.  

The two lapsed into silence but it was a comfortable one. Steve smoothed down his hair five times within the space of a minute before taking a deep breath. 

Eddie knew what was coming. He wasn’t dumb, but a part of him would always be trapped back in high school. It kept screaming there was no way a popular kid like Steve would talk to a loser like him. He thought he’d buried that part of himself, yet here it was, rising from the dead. 

“Do you want to get a drink?” 

And there it was. Eddie didn’t mean to cringe, but Steve caught it, his hands stuffed themselves into the too-tight back pockets of his jeans. 

“Or not,” He muttered averting his gaze. 

“No. It’s not that. I... I don’t drink.” 

There you go Gareth. He was responsible enough to look after himself. 

“I could do dinner though,” Eddie tried to throw Steve a bone. 

Eddie waited for Steve to throw up one of the red flags he’d gotten used to seeing with all the men he’d dated or hooked up with. Eddie would say he didn’t drink, and they’d give him a funny look or mutter something about him being a killjoy. 

“There’s a place that does a wicked deep-dish pizza not far from here. You said you weren’t from Chicago, right? You’ve gotta have the pizza, it’s a rite of passage,” Steve ploughed on.

“Sure,” He muttered trying not to look as surprised as he felt. 

He watched Steve buzz around the record store, shutting up shop and then extending a hand shyly to Eddie. Right, his stupid goddamn leg. At least it gave him an excuse to get up close and personal with Steve in the street and not draw too much attention. 

The two made the short walk to the pizzeria at a plodding pace, talking about nothing in particular. 

“What happened to your leg?” Steve asked as they slid into the booth. 

“Slid on a drumstick and took a nosedive off a stage,” Eddie admitted. He wasn’t going to outright lie to Steve. 

“Ouch,” Steve mumbled, passing the menu over to Eddie. 

“So, you still do band stuff? I remember that high school talent show,” Steve noted, and Eddie cringed, letting his head drop to the table. 

“I really wish you didn’t,” He chuckled before confirming,

“Yeah, I still do band stuff,” as he raised his head and chanced a glance at Steve. 

“Cool,” was all he said before they shifted the subject. 

They were swapping stories about best friends, roommates, shared high-school trauma and generally flirting when a figure approached their booth. It was a kid, who couldn’t be older than fifteen with a shaved head and a battle jacket. He reminded Eddie of himself at that age. He knew what was coming.

“You’re Eddie Emerson, right? From Corroded Coffin,” the kid asked, his hands shaking. He watched as a furrow appeared on Steve’s brow before his jaw dropped. So Steve wasn’t totally clueless. 

“One and only. You want me to sign something for you?” Eddie asked, having gone through this song and dance a million times before. He tried to be nice, after all, it was a kid, but sometimes he got tired of always having to be on. 

To make matters worse it happened in front of Steve. Something about people coming up to him always sat wrong with other guys he’d been with. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or ego that did it, but he knew if he ran into a fan on a date, the rest of the night typically went sideways. 

He signed the back of a napkin as he listened to the kid rattle off praise for their music. He talked about his favourite songs and lyrics. Eddie wished he knew what to say, wished he knew how to take a compliment but he didn’t. To his surprise, he heard Steve speak. 

“Hey, did you make this?” Steve asked indicating the kid's battle jacket, forcing him to come up for air.

“Yeah, all on my own.”

The kid blinked and ran his hand over a couple of the hand-sewn patches. Steve obviously knew nothing about the scene because if you didn’t make your own jacket people would call you a poser. It was a nice shout though because he watched the kid light up. 

“Even the safety pins?” Steve asked curiously.

Eddie watched as the kid launched into a story of every little pin and stitch in the jacket, turning his attention away from Eddie, and giving him space to catch his breath. It was nice. He felt like Steve had seen him.

After another few minutes, the kid’s dad came to collect him and Eddie felt his body sag against the diner booth. 

“You get that all the time?” Steve asked, his foot nudging Eddie’s under the table. 

“You wouldn’t believe it,” He grumbled scrubbing his face. Steve nudged his foot again, giving him a goofy grin. 

“At least he liked your stuff,” He proposed. 

“I’m guessing it’s not your thing,” Eddie reasoned. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but he really didn’t look like the typical Corroded Coffin fan. 

“I’m not too picky when it comes to music. I just listen to top forty stuff.” Eddie shot him a disbelieving look.  

“Dude you work in a record store,” he laughed and Steve shrugged.

“Among other things. I just got the job to hang out with Robin. She works there too. She only took the job to try and peddle her girlfriend Nancy’s zines. Sometimes I write the sports section because Nancy, Robin and Jonathan don’t know anything about sports.” Eddie rested his head in the palm of his hand, listening attentively. 

“Wait, is that the same Nancy that you dated back in high school?” He asked, trying to sound scandalised, glad to have a break from the rock star bullshit. 

“Like you said, lesbian magnet,” Steve grumbled, mirroring Eddie’s gesture, resting his head in his hand. 

“What are you actually doing in town?” Steve asked, more curious than nosy. 

“Trying to run away from writing our third album,” Eddie spoke. 

It’d been the first time he admitted it out loud. He didn’t talk about his music until he thought it was worth something, but Steve was a good listener. To Eddie’s surprise, he found himself spilling his guts to Steve. He told him all about the third album, about the goddamn symbolism, and the way things just weren’t clicking. 

“Why don’t you give him a reason to stay?” Steve asked when Eddie finished his monologue, as though it was the simplest solution in the world. 

“I mean, Dorothy doesn’t go back to Kansas because she doesn’t like Oz, she misses home. She misses her family. You want your knight guy to stay in fantasy land? Give him someone to stay for,” Steve proposed, and it was like the final puzzle piece sliding into place. It was brilliant.

“Stevie, I could kiss you,” Eddie spoke.

“Is that a promise?” Steve asked with a cheeky grin.

“Let’s get out of here and find out.”

[sillyuin]

The ghost of you. (Part 1).

-------------------

Genre: angst.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Warnings: Break up.

-------------------

You disappeared like a faint ghost.

Mingyu had started to forget you and that scared him.

Every day he woke up in the room where you used to share happy and sad moments. There was no longer the sound of your voice wishing him a good day, giving him a kiss before getting out of bed.

Your small office was empty, there were no longer any camera lenses on the shelf, memory cards on the desk, nor a bunch of candy wrappers in the trash, and the curtains were always closed.

He walked the same streets you used to walk together, hoping to see your back or catch the scent of the floral perfume he liked so much, but the days went by, and there wasn't a trace of you.

From time to time, Mingyu would sit on the couch with the phone in hand, his hesitant finger unable to press your name on the screen. He had already sent several messages, but none received a response, and none of his calls were answered.

One night he entered your office, opened the curtains and from there he saw the starry sky, the view was simply bright and majestic. "That's why you liked being here so much," he said to himself, taking a seat in the desk chair. "You had front row seats... And I never came to join you..."

Until now, he hadn't had the courage to check the desk drawers, and that night he decided to do it; you had taken almost everything except for a memory card at the bottom of the last drawer. With much curiosity and fear, he inserted it into his laptop to see what was inside.

As he went through the stored photos, Mingyu felt a mix of happiness and nostalgia that turned into a silent sob. The album was full of pictures of the two of you, from outings and parties, random sessions in gardens or inside the apartment. He found it hard to believe how distant those happy moments felt compared to the reality he was living now.

Setting the laptop aside, he lay down on the couch and rested his head where you used to sit. "I miss you," he closed his eyes, burying his face in one of the cushions. "Where have you gone?"

The sun was setting and the wind started to blow gently. You were heading home while thinking about what you were going to make for dinner, and without realizing it you took a different path. It wasn't a loss since it was a very pretty street with some interesting shops; however, there was a place you had paid little attention to until that day.

"There was an art exhibit, and I didn't know," you lamented to yourself. You were in the front door of a small gallery and outside it, there was a sign with information about the presentation. After reading everything, you glanced down at your wristwatch. "One hour remain… That’s enough for me."

There weren't many people left except for a few older gentlemen, and some students that probably were heading home from school. The place was spacious, with beautiful paintings exhibited on the walls. Some were well-crafted and others were quite simple, but all had their own charm. There were also a few sculptures, and you took the opportunity to photograph some that seemed quite creative to you.

You moved on to another room and there was a rather curious painting: three small canvases side by side, the background was white, and a red ribbon crossed them by the middle. You stood for a few seconds appreciating it in silence, then looked down at a plaque with some words.

"The Red Thread of Fate," you read softly, "...", but you couldn’t say the artist’s name.

"You know the legend, don't you?" said a voice from behind and as you slowly turned, he was staring there. After so much time avoiding him, Mingyu ended up finding you in the most unexpected way possible, or so you thought. "Hi, y/n," he pressed his lips together a bit and crossed his arms. "I hadn't seen you, have you been here long?"

"No, I just arrived," you turned to one side, trying to locate the exit. "But I was just leaving, so..."

"Wait!" His voice made you stop suddenly. "Sorry, do you have a few minutes?"

You didn't want to, you didn't feel like being there another second nor talking to him, but you took a step towards to face him, although your fidgety hands said otherwise. "What do you want?"

"I..." Mingyu sighed. "I just want to listen to you, that's all."

"Now you want to listen to me?"

"No, wait, I can explain..."

"Explain what?"

Your severe tone made him remain silent, as if he were afraid that by saying something, you would leave without turning around. The atmosphere was tense, very tense, and the fact that no one dared to peek into the room only made him even more nervous. Still, he made it to say something.

"Nothing I said that day was true," Mingyu confessed, his voice quite confidence. "I hurt you deeply, and I'm sorry for everything, you didn’t deserve that."

"You left me alone," you stammered. "You said horrible things and then left. Do you know how long I waited for you to come home?"

"I know it was a long time, I..."

"Until dawn," you interrupted, taking another step closer. "I ran away and took a bus at 3 am, because you never came."

"Honestly, I-I don't know what was going through..."

"Are you going to listen to me or not?"

Mingyu shrugged, tortured by all the words held at the tip of his tongue. He took a deep breath and nodded nervously.

"You left me alone," you repeated, your voice sounding fragile as if it might break at any moment. "I asked for your help many times, I told you I was very nervous about leaving my job, and when I decided to quit, you didn't support me."

"I was scared, okay? I was… Scared."

"I was the one who quit a stable job to pursue my dream of photography... But you were the one who was scared?" You looked away for a moment to calm yourself down, although that didn't help much. "I don't understand, what were you scared of!? Tell me!"

Mingyu was downcast, and after a few seconds of no responding, he murmured. "I thought you would go far away..."

" There are many jobs, but only one Kim Mingyu." As you said it, he raised his gaze to meet yours, thick tears were stuck at the corner of your eyes. "I wanted to live my dream by your side… And I still want to."

In the silence of the room, the only thing heard was Mingyu's faint voice apologizing repeatedly. Then you approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again despite the tears that ran down them.

You approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again. His tears were honest and very painful, almost as much as yours, but it didn't matter. All you wanted to do was hold him like you used to, before becoming a memory lost in the pictures.

[undying-love]

Paul collecting John-related things

"MPL's [Paul's London office] interior style is quietly art deco. Its walls are hung with modern paintings, or framed photos by Linda McCartney, and pride of place goes to her famous shot of Paul and John, laughing and grasping each other's hands at a Sgt. Pepper party in 1967." (Conversations With McCartney, Paul Du Noyer, 2016)

"Children's artwork hung on the walls and above the doors. He was a guy who could afford Picassos, but chose to display his kids' finger-paintings. A big jukebox shone from his sitting room. On the bulletin board in the kitchen were personal photos of McCartney with John Lennon." (http://www.meetthebeatlesforreal.com/2014/09/one-fans-secret-paul-adventure.html)

"A quick scan of his studio kitchen reveals a copy of Mary McCartney’s recipe book and a John Lennon calendar; March’s pin-up is “Moody John” in sunglasses posed against the New York skyline." (Interview with Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul. May, 2015)

"I recently bought a lot of drawings and writings by John. I have them on my wall so I get to look at them all the time." (Paul, The Lyrics, 2021)

“McCartney tells me he treasures a six-foot-tall print of a photo he has of himself and Lennon, taken by Linda during the White Album sessions. "I've got the pad and I'm writing, and he's just looking over at me, and you can see the body language and everything: These guys love each other." (interview in GQ 2018)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

talk | myg | nyangnyang au

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your husband Min Yoongi declares that he needs to be more of a whore. Nyan?!

warnings: discussion about sex life; husband!Yoongi x wife!reader with their pet white cat Nyangnyang; heavy make-out session; domestic + fluffy; nyangnyang!au but can be read alone tbh it's just a husband and wife chatting about their sex life + the antics of their peanut gallery lol

--

You didn’t quite believe in soulmates or fate, but you were sure that Min Yoongi was the love of your life.

“I think I need to be more of a whore.”

Precisely why.

Wait, what?

You looked up from wiping down the coffee table and stared at him.

“What?”

“Nyan.”

Your husband was sitting on the sofa. An attempt to rest, except the furball you both affectionately called cutie had immediately rocketed into his lap and began rolling around, loudly demanding pets and leaving white fur all over your husband’s black sweatpants. Nyangnyang the cat had zero concept of personal space. Your husband had a problem with saying no to those he loved. Her head was in his large palm as the other rubbed her belly. White fur was getting everywhere. Loud purrs punctuated the silence.

“Do you think our sex life is boring?” was Yoongi’s follow-up on his previous declaration.

You folded up the polishing cloth and left it on the glass table, figuring this was going to be more than a yes-or-no conversation. Strands of black hair fell past his temples, framing his black metal glasses and sharp dark brown eyes. He looked at you with a calm expression as if he was talking about the weather and not about how he thought he needed to be more of a whore.

You paused. “I don’t think so, but I figured the slowdown was because you worked on that important album. You said it was very emotionally draining.” Your husband was a music producer. He wasn’t allowed to talk about what he was working on, which was why he told his wife everything. Hey, his primary loyalty was to his wife. That and you weren’t going to tell a soul anyway. That would require social interaction. Ew. “You’ve been sleeping a lot and watching TV all day even after you wrapped it up.”

Nyangnyang rolled around and covered Yoongi’s thighs with more snow-white cat hair. You used to keep a lint roller in the living room until Yoongi realized the cat had been knocking it down and licking the sticky paper like an adhesive heathen. Then you switched to other types of lint-and-fur collectors. The cat still licked the tacky parts. Sigh. Now they had to be kept in the closet. You and Yoongi just accepted that you both would be covered in cat hair twenty-four-seven.

Welp.

He accepted the fluffy tail smacking his stomach and scratched behind Nyangnyang’s ears while watching you carefully. At least his baggy t-shirt was white. You stayed kneeling on the floor, curiously tilting your head, positioned on the other side of the smoked glass and black marble coffee table.

Finally, Yoongi sighed. “I think I need to try harder. I’m feeling outdone by you lately.”

You frowned. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

For some reason, the cat stood up, circling Yoongi’s lap again before flopping down. You noticed his pale hand hover over his nuts before Nyangnyang threw herself down again with a dramatic princess floof. You could relate.

Heh.

His eye twitched. “Watch it,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

The cat gave no fucks and shoved her pink nose into Yoongi’s palm.

“What about last night?” you continued. “You came four times. Your dick felt great.”

Your husband gave you the side-eye. “You know, there’s a person attached to this dick.”

You grinned.

He scoffed. “Just because you were into the dick doesn’t mean you were into me.”

Your grin disappeared. “What are you talking about? I only think about you during sex. There’s no one else I want to think about.”

But as soon as the words came out of your mouth, you could tell that wasn’t what Yoongi was getting at. He stuck his tongue into his cheek and his brows furrowed, glancing away for a moment to collect his thoughts. His hand on the cat’s belly stopped. Nyangnyang, being a little shit, kicked his wrist with her back paws. His hand started moving again without looking. The furball went back to purring up a storm. Your husband winced and tried not to show it. Despite his longer, lustrous hair and slender frame, Min Yoongi was a manly man at heart that enjoyed woodworking, basketball, and UFC as much as he enjoyed music, fashion, and picking out aesthetic living room pillows.

“I’ve been relying a little too much on you being sexy and leading everything without contributing myself,” he finally said, sounding a bit rueful in his deep and raspy voice.

You heavily restrained chiming in that all he needed to contribute was an open mouth and a hard dick. Good commentary, wrong timing. It was pretty clear what he was saying and it was pretty clear that you should shut up for now and listen.

Difficult for a smartass, but you’d manage.

“I don’t feel that you’re having the same experience I am. Just because you like being in charge doesn’t mean I should step back,” he went on, verbally working through his thought process and letting you in on it. You were a bit surprised hearing those words, as it was word-for-word something you mentioned before, although that was years ago when something similar happened. It had been you to bring it up then. He listens, huh. Yoongi ticked his head, his glasses reflecting light. “I feel I’ve gotten a little lazy. And, with it, been too in my head recently. I don’t like this feeling. I’m not performing well. I need to be more into it.”

It was a first for him to be so direct about this. Usually, you would bring it up for some reason or the other. He was always willing to talk about it, but, well. You had always had a more… intense… libido compared to Yoongi and, although some would argue it was a good problem to have, he often had to rise to the occasion (pun intended). Something he wanted to do and did so without hesitation, but that also meant that he was more sensitive to his own intrusive thoughts whereas you were too absorbed with fucking to notice any. Sex was when you were free, yet Yoongi had reasonable worries that interfered sometimes. You had sensed the tension last night and figured some fucking would help relax him. But it turned out the issue related to sex itself. Welp. Still, it was nice to hear him communicate with you.

“So… how would being a whore help?” you asked.

Another bombastic side-eye. “I meant being more actively involved into the sex. Acting like one.”

You raised an eyebrow with a straight face even though you were cackling inside. “Do you even know how to act like a whore? You’ve never been slutty in your entire life.” Added a little dismissive hand wave with your act. Just to be extra infuriating. “You think acting like a slut is so easy? Darling, being a whore is a way of life.”

Yoongi stared at you.

Blank expression.

“You’re so freaking annoying.”

The tip of your tongue grazed the edge of your smirk.

“Naow…”

Your husband rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Hot. Nyangnyang seemed to sense the kind of tension a cat wanted no part of and promptly abandoned Yoongi’s lap, marching off to laze somewhere else. Not that her parents noticed because they were too busy making googly eyes at each other.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Time of day never stopped a whore,” you countered.

His expression was a mix between pained and irritated. Perfect. Heavy sigh, halfway lifting himself off the couch before you started laughing, breaking the tension.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, flippant, standing up as well. “Have you gotten a little lazy? Hmm, maybe. But maybe I’ve been overbearing too, since all I think about is enjoying your dick until I’m worn out. I probably shouldn’t go that far, hah… Yoongi?”

He grabbed your wrist.

You paused, fixating your gaze on him. His direct stare. Dark eyes shadowed behind clear lenses. Gleaming porcelain skin. You were both in casual clothes for lounging at home. Your lavender sweatpants with a matching crop top weren’t exactly screaming sex. But, of course, you would confess that you always made sure to cress cutely for yourself.

You frowned. “We haven’t showered yet.”

He shrugged. He had reasonably broad shoulders for such a pretty face. Fucking sexy as hell. You were allowed to think that because you were his wife. “You don’t have to go down on me.” Then he let go of your wrist to reach behind your head and tilt it back, the base of your skull against the heel of his palm.

“What?”

Then you sucked in a tight breath as you felt the tip of his hot tongue slide up your neck.

His warm breath spread over your skin, sending a wave of chills throughout your chest.

“Didn’t you tell me sex is more than just the orgasm?” he murmured, heating the saliva clinging to your throat. “I completely agree.”

Under normal circumstances you would have had the smartass comment ready, was this the right situation to admit that the wife was always right, but you didn’t even have a chance to glance at him before his lips started feathering up the side of your neck, his deft hands in your hair, licking, kissing, his familiar scent invading your nose, his soft black hair against your cheek, every action tantalizing your senses.

It was then that you realized, yes, you did miss this.

As a married couple that lived together, you both had the luxury of skipping steps. You could get into the action any time and that was exciting in its own right. You also had the natural tendency to immediately get into it, using everything in your arsenal all at once. Speed, accuracy, precision, multiple sensations all over, forcing all of your past lovers to chase to keep up with you and not giving them time to react or prepare themselves. There wasn’t much time to pull on the leash, so to speak.

A whore always wanted to have sex, right?

So, acting like one meant…

Your hands slipped under his t-shirt and pulled him closer by the small of his back.

His teeth nicked the space under your ear and you shivered before moaning, feeling the tingling sensation of sucking skin and soft lips. It really was delightfully pleasant to be caught off guard by your favorite person.

“You… You’re saying I act like a whore…?” you gasped, still playing around.

His lips grazed your ear. Voice low, direct.

“You’d be one if I didn’t catch you and shackle you with a ring.”

Touché.

“What’s wrong with that?” you bit back.

He moved his head and you gazed at each other with one eye, lashes framing dark orbs that were the window to knowing each other far too well.

“Nothing. That’s why I’m trying to be more like you,” Yoongi purred.

Your lower halves collided. Layers of clothing and heated friction, his hardness pressing against your thighs, and then his lips caught yours in a fervent kiss. No different in the level of passion but you could tell he was different from last night. More mindful depth. Only focused on the moment. Tongue against tongue. His hands all over, sliding up into your hair and down your shoulder, gasping into your throat as your fingernails turned inward, scratching down his back mid lip-lock.

“Nyao!”

There was a flurry of wild flailing sounds and then a thud.

You both stopped kissing to stare into the bedroom. The door was open, as it usually was. A whizzing snow-white blur shot out of sight. The bed was partially visible from this angle. The right lower corner of the covers was messy and pulled out. You stared at it, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened, still clutching your husband in your death grasp.

You blinked slowly.

“Nyangnyang, did you…”

“… Fail to jump onto the bed?” Yoongi finished for you with just as much disbelief in his voice.

Absolute silence.

“Hasn’t she made that jump hundreds of times?” you wondered out loud.

Yoongi grumbled. You turned your head back. He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a sign to move to the bed.”

Hmmmm. You didn’t miss the want in his otherwise bland tone. “Why rush?” You let go of him even though your husband’s eyes were narrowing to death glare status. “It’s the weekend. We have all day. Besides, the rice will be done soon, so we should eat lunch.” As a very devious wife, you could tell Yoongi did not want to play this game but he also wanted you to give in first. He kept a firm hand on your waist.

“Hm, you’re right.”

“Yup,” was your chipper reply.

He gave you this look.

You grinned. Waved your finger as you chided him. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you dessert is after your meal? You can’t spoil your appetite with suga beforehand.” You bared the brunt of a criminally offensive side-eye. Worth it.

Then, Yoongi smiled.

Uh oh.

You had been with Yoongi long enough to know that behind that simple smile was a lot of cunning.

“But of course, my love.”

Well, a lazy Saturday just got a lot more interesting.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[bangtanfanfiction]

hopelessly falling  → k. sunwoo (tbz)

Based on this ask.

♢ Pairing: Sunwoo x Idol!female Reader → Idol AU

♢ Word count: 6.8k

♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man

♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig

⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected. ↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.

HOBI: Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always! JIMIN: You’ll do great! JIN: We’ll be monitoring you :)) YOONGS: Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo. JOONIE: Y/N fighting! JK: Fighting! TAE: Go, go, go Y/N!

Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.

Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves. 

Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return. 

Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror. 

Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.

You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them. 

The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly. 

Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´ 

Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same. 

The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours. 

But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness. 

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.

“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”

Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation. 

Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences. 

Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher. 

“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”

Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her. 

“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it. 

“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes. 

Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup. 

“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”

“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you. 

“Henry Cavill does not count.”

“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”

“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”

“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat. 

Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great. 

You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy. 

“Y/N it’s time to head out.”

Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.

Y/N: I'm off now! Love you!

You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions. 

It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry. 

You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage. 

Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it. 

You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved. 

The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week. 

However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song. 

You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on. 

Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds. 

But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future. 

“Hi, hello,

My name is what you want it to

숨겨 왔던

욕망들을 whisper.”

Huh. 

A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils. 

“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention. 

“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end. 

“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.

You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.  

The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp. 

You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward. 

“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”

The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.” 

The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.  

“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you. 

“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music. 

“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?” 

“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”

“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”

Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable. 

“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.” 

“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”

Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier. 

“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes. 

But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed. 

Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow. 

His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.

An image still swimming in your mind. 

An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions. 

Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness. 

You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance. 

Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.

No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.

“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status. 

“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”

At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip. 

“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.

Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face. 

“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view. 

Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now. 

Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh. 

You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio. 

So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself. 

Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?

“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room. 

Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too. 

Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast. 

The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.  

“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest. 

“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”

“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”

Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”

You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent. 

“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?

“Stop what?”

You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”

“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?” 

Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.

“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.

“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.

Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck. 

Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”

If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it. 

The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed. 

Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”

“I know.”

However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck. 

“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him. 

“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off.  “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”

You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”

Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.

An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved. 

“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider. 

“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle. 

He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”

There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat. 

“You…want my number?”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again. 

So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”

“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”

Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow. 

This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances. 

Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway. 

“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes. 

But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it. 

Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what. 

Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number. 

You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.

“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.

So you weren’t the only one affected at least.

UNKNOWN: What’s your favorite drink? Y/N: Who is this? UNKNOWN: I’m hurt, noona.  Y/N:  Ah Hello to you too, Sunwoo You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo. SUNWOO: Backtracking to the question. Y/N:  I’m a coffee addict SUNWOO: Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano? Y/N: I’m more of a sweet latte girl SUNWOO: A woman after my own heart. Y/N:  Alright you little flirt Care to explain? SUNWOO: I’m planning for our date ofc Y/N: Oh? Did I miss the location? SUNWOO: It’s a surprise Y/N: Should I be worried? SUNWOO: Why do you keep doubting me :(  Y/N: Acting cute won’t help you SUNWOO: heart emoji Y/N: But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo I got high standards after all ;) SUNWOO: I guess the pressure is on

“Hi.”

“...hey.”

Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it. 

“Why are you breathless?”

“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”

“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed. 

“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”

“Hm, what a gentleman.”

“For you? Always.”

You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing. 

“I tried seeing you today.” 

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”

“What did you do today?”

“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”

Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”

“Oh shush you.”

A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak. 

“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it. 

“...Like what?”

“This. Just talking to you, noona.”

Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”

It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully. 

The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place. 

And did you regret it. 

“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team. 

You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted. 

They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years. 

The haters would have a field day with that. 

“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background. 

“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people. 

You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan. 

It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle. 

You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies. 

You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo. 

He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax. 

“Are you okay?”

Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”

You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.

“Thank you.”

Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.  

His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up. 

“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”

“What makes you think there is?”

Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”

Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”

“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”

Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”

His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you. 

“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened. 

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in. 

The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.

Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely. 

You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was mesmerized. 

Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers. 

Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS. 

Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away. 

And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to. 

After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch. 

Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause. 

Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.

“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat. 

If only his members knew the truth. 

“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members. 

Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage. 

He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self. 

The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi. 

You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly. 

He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT. 

You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder. 

The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.

He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips. 

“Was that a bit too rough?”

“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in. 

The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck. 

 His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin. 

“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action. 

“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”

“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure. 

He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile. 

Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him. 

“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”

“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?” 

Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity. 

“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him. 

Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up. 

You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up. 

That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips. 

Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction. 

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events. 

He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place. 

Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down. 

Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into. 

It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing. 

“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him. 

“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close. 

“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious. 

So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end. 

You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him. 

Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot. 

Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction. 

“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting. 

“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”

Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh. 

“That went well.” He grinned. 

“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands. 

“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”

Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second. 

“Yah Kim Sunw-!”

Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.

Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell. 

Well. There went the secrecy.

“What…the hell?” 

Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.

“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English. 

If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up. 

Thank you for reading!

masterlist

[rolloroberson]

George Harrison and Ringo Starr during a break in the White Album recording sessions. Photographed by Linda McCartney.

[midchelle]

John and Yoko

The Beatles, Happiness is a Warm Gun (1968) // Yoko Ono, Play It By Trust (1966) // John Lennon, Yoko Ono, and Robert Fraser at the opening of You Are Here (1968) // John Lennon and Yoko Ono for Melody Maker (April 26th, 1969) // Tumblr screenshot // John and Yoko during sessions for The White Album by Linda Eastman (1968) // John Lennon's letter to Paul McCartney in Melody Maker (24 November, 1971) // Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By (1973) // Yoko Ono, John Lennon, and Paul McCartney at the premiere of Yellow Submarine (July 17, 1968) // George Harrison, John Lennon, and Yoko Ono during rehearsals for The Concert for Bangladesh (1971) // Lorde, The Louvre (2017) // John and Yoko for Look (March 18, 1969) // John and Yoko for New Musical Express (20 December, 1969) // Box art for The Wedding Album (1969) // John Lennon and Yoko Ono during their Bed-in for Peace at the Amsterdam Hilton (1969) // John and Yoko at a press conference at Heathrow Airport (April 1, 1969) // Lana Del Rey, Venice Bitch (2019) // John and Yoko (1971) // Bob Gruen, John Lennon: The New York Years (2005) // John and Yoko by Bob Gruen (9 November, 1972) // Yoko Ono, Death Of Samantha (1973) // John Lennon for Melody Maker (September 14, 1974) // John Lennon, Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out) (1974) // Yoko Ono, Andy Warhol, and John Lennon (1971) // Yoko Ono, No, No, No (1981) // Yoko Ono for The Sunday Times (May 25th, 1981) // Twitter screenshot // John and Yoko for Playboy (September 1980) // John and Yoko during sessions for Double Fantasy by Kishin Shinoyama (1980)