𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚

they're always left with two options when it comes to matthew begging— either continue on indifferently until he starts rutting like a dog in heat or keep pointing out how desperate he is until he starts crying for it. one way or another, the outcome will be the same as always but the journey getting there has always been such a delight to watch for minsu. more so when the other never seems to remember how much fun they have toying with him. the frustrating expression on his face always egg them on— like watching a movie you've seen over and over again until you've memorize the script by heart.

"yaaaah... we were both busy for a week. you call that a long time?" the laugh on their lips is sharp and mocking, matching the wet, hard taps on the other's willing entrance. "we should try out a month. see how you fare with that." it's not difficult to rile up the bassist, giving him a fox-like grin that spells mischief. "i'm sure it'll be well worth the wait~"

he can't focus. can't breathe. can't think. matthew's body is being tugged in too many different directions. when minsu's cock finally wriggles free, presses between his cheeks after waiting for so long, matthew can only groan his appreciation. the words that fall from their lips barely register, the way they mock him for being so needy, so impatient. ( because it's true. there's nothing to hide behind when he reacts like this, thrusts himself back against the now familiar length of his cock without abandon. like he'll die if he can't have them now. )

and then he shifts, finally presses the head of his cock to matthew's stretched rim, and the sigh of relief that passes his lips could pass for a sob. his hands flex against minsu's shoulders, and his hips move, legs lifting himself up to adjust himself properly over minsu's cock. there's no need to tell him twice as he sinks down, buries minsu to the hilt within him in one, eager motion. ( and it only hurts a little, but the stretch is good. a reminder of what he's been missing while minsu was away. something that should scare him more than it does. )

HAEWON Blue Valentine @ Festival de Viña del Mar (2026)

Gunwoo  lets  him  talk  without  interrupting.  That’s  the  first  thing  Minjoon  probably  doesn’t  notice.  Most  people  around  the  prince  rush  to  smooth  things  over,  rush  to  agree,  rush  to  avoid  whatever  mood  he’s  in.  Gunwoo  just  stands  there  and  takes  the  hit  straight  on.  His  eyes  follow  the  prince’s  fingers  tapping  against  the  chair  arm  before  shifting  back  to  his  face.  Calm.  Steady.  The  same  look  that  always  seems  to  irritate  Minjoon  more  than  yelling  ever  could.  “I  don’t  care  about  getting  you  in  trouble.”  Gunwoo  says  plainly.  “If  I  thought  telling  your  parents  would  solve  anything,  I  would’ve  done  it  already.”  He  steps  closer  again,  not  enough  to  crowd  him,  but  enough  to  make  it  clear  he  isn’t  backing  down.  Minjoon  keeps  pushing  for  reactions  like  he’s  testing  the  limits  of  a  fence.  Gunwoo’s  learned  that  much  about  him  already.  “And  sneaking  you  out?”  A  quiet  breath  leaves  through  his  nose,  almost  a  laugh.  “You  think  I’d  still  have  this  job  if  I  helped  a  prince  disappear  in  the  middle  of  the  night?”

The  look  Minjoon  gives  him  after  that  should  probably  make  him  step  back.  Instead,  Gunwoo  feels  his  jaw  tighten  for  a  different  reason  entirely.  The  prince  gets  like  this  when  he’s  cornered  ,  shoulders  loose,  eyes  sharp,  mouth  running  ahead  of  whatever  common  sense  tries  to  catch  up.  “You  keep  acting  like  this  is  about  control.”  Gunwoo  folds  his  arms  loosely  over  his  chest.  “It’s  not.  You’re  free  to  make  reckless  choices  if  you  want.  I  can’t  stop  you  from  doing  stupid  things  every  second  of  the  day.”  A  pause.  “But  when  something  happens,  I’m  the  one  expected  to  pull  you  out  of  it.”  Minjoon  steps  closer.  Gunwoo  doesn’t  move  an  inch.  He  can  feel  the  shift  in  the  room  the  second  the  distance  closes,  can  see  the  prince  trying  to  provoke  something  out  of  him  again.  Fear.  Anger.  Anything  dramatic  enough  to  prove  a  point.  What  he  gets  instead  is  Gunwoo  staring  down  at  him  with  the  same  frustrating  composure.

everything about gunwoo is frustrating to him. the way he never backs down, the way he refuses to fight back. minjoon is practically begging for it, at this point -- though, not with his words. but with his actions. he's too stubborn, too unwilling to change his mindset to understand why they won't let him do as he pleases. ( he's not being dangerous, after all. he always comes home. he enjoys himself to the point of feeling better about the life he's been handed, and crawls back to his giant, porcelain cage to pretend like everything's fine. is he acting out? sure. but he's doing with a modicum of responsibility. even if no one else can see it. )

it's what makes gunwoo's words so frustrating. "if you're not willing to help me," he starts, brow raised, "then you need to stop getting in my way. you're the only one complaining, anyways." huffing under his breath, minjoon shoves his hands into his pockets, lets his shoulders roll to stand up straight. ( gunwoo is still taller than him, despite his efforts. ridiculous. ) the more the other man talks, the more flustered minjoon feels himself becoming. ( because he's right, god damn it. while it may not ever be intentional, the boundaries his family tries to press upon him are stifling. for someone who's not even meant to take over, their tendency to police everything he does -- every action he takes -- makes him feel like a pet. he's expected to smile softly, speak confidently, and do everything they say without a second thought. any normal person would find those limitations frustrating. why can't gunwoo see that? )

scoffing, his eyes roll. "i'm not testing anything," he huffs, tone petulant. "i'm trying to advocate for myself. there's nothing wrong with wanting to have fun, right? to have my own life outside of," he gestures around the ornate room, "all this? it's stupid to think that i'd just sit here and take it. so tell me, gunwoo-ssi," his voice lowers slightly as his head tilts, a challenge. "what the hell do you think you can do to stop me, hmm?"

x. "if anybody asks about today, lie." - for Minchae from @foundwild

"Uhhhhh Ahhh?" A half-audible sound of confusion rose with question into the second higher pitched syllable. Jiah was poised with a bite of lunch half-way toward her mouth, now frozen and suspended midair. It was a lunch she had been very much looking forward to, until Minchae had slid into the seat across from her with more ease than should have been possible given the small cafe. Jiah blinked several times, eyes widening with each pass of her eyelids as she looked from her food to her brother before back again. "Is... um, anyone going to ask about today?" She asked casually, clearing her throat as she sat up a little straighter and sighed with defeat as she delicately placed the bite of food back onto the plate before her and set her utensils down, smoothing the napkin over her lap with both hands to give her full attention. "What damage level are we talking here?"

their eyes are a little heavy when they look at their sister. though minchae tries his best to look calm, cool, collected, he's truthfully anything but. ( it shows on his face -- the way his bright, sunny appearance is muddled by how exhausted he is. ) their fingers tap nervously against the table top, and minchae slumps into their side of the booth, lips pursed into a familiar pout. ❛ dad might, ❜ they offer, though they're not sure if that's what they're worried about.

nervously, they shift, eyes scanning the table for a cup of coffee -- and thank god there is one, the caffeine will surely do him some good. he's already running on fumes as it is. there's a moment of silence as they down a third of the liquid with an unnatural ease, and with a small sigh of relief, minchae levels with jiah.

❛ i'm hiding, ❜ they finally offer. ❛ i'm supposed to be at a photoshoot right now, but --, ❜ minchae pauses, shoulders sagging. ❛ i just -- i can't. ❜

Her voice in Sujin's mouth, shaped by her lips in the very moment of ecstasy, is beyond divine. Nagako wishes she could hear it all day, every day, and fears that now that she's had a taste that she'll be forever insatiable. Her bandmate is beautiful and so worthy of being treasured that Nagako can't help but think that Sujin could do so much better than her. If Nagako is who she wants, though, then she'll be sure to make it worth her time.

"That's it," Nagako breathes, and just barely manages to stifle the inadvertent groan building in her throat when she curls her fingers again. The roll of Sujin's hips into her hand doesn't go unnoticed, but she's majorly preoccupied by the pretty way that Sujin asks for more. It's unfair. It's ridiculous. It's stupidly irresistible.

Not like Nagako needs any convincing. It's a relief to release the iota of self control that she's held onto. "You want me to fuck you harder? I can't say no when you ask so nicely..."

When her head drops again, it's to bring her lips to Sujin's chest once she manages to push her shirt out of the way with her free hand. She's unafraid to latch onto the skin of her breasts with teeth and tongue, pairing it with the sudden increased rough drive of her fingers into Sujin. "God, you feel so fucking good," Nagako compliments with her mouth against Sujin's skin. Her teeth and tongue gather Sujin's nipple between her lips, sucking insistently, indulgently, before swapping to the other. Her free hand snakes up into Sujin's hair again to pull her head back and expose her neck.

she's drowning in everything that is nagako. sujin feels like she can't breathe, like there's no such thing as close enough when they're pressed together like this. she wants to settle underneath her skin, climb into her rib cage and live there for the rest of the night. of the week. there's something so charming about nagako's confidence, too -- she's so used to it on stage, the way the older girl will lead the charge, tease her mercilessly until sujin has to run and hide.

now, however, she's more exposed than ever. and she doesn't hate it.

she's so caught up in her head, in her own thoughts, that she doesn't notice when gako slips her shirt up. bunched at her collar, sujin barely has time to look down before gako takes a nipple into her mouth. the stimulation has her crying out -- perhaps too loud within the walls of their shared dorms, but she doesn't care. can't care when she looks at her like that, promises that she'll feel it the next day. ( and god, does she hope so. )

"g-gako," she tries, her voice trailing off into a high pitched whine. the additional finger, the stretch of gako within her, makes her lose her mind. whatever sanity she'd been clinging to is long gone. her hips move almost frantically, her hands curling roughly against her shoulders to maintain some sense of a grip. ( both literally and figuratively. )

[ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] me???? i would never do that to you, jagi [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] i would, however, leverage my position to sneak a day off with you 🙂‍↕️ [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] good. that's the answer i wanna hear. you can't sit in that studio any longer, i miss you too much and i'm starting to forget what your face looks like 😩 [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] lemme take you out

[TXT] : i cleared my schedule.

[ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] for us to spend all day together, duh [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] had to move some rehearsals around, but i've got a feeling my leader won't mind [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] so... what do you say? [ SMS ; YEOBO 💖 ] feel like playing hooky with me 😏

Nagako observes every twitch, sigh and moan that Sujin generously offers her. She's responsive underneath her pliant touch, and it feeds into a part of Nagako that she has, more or less, kept locked away. Her restraint is truly precarious to begin with: these are first steps, the momentary fumble of how does Sujin want it? Where does she want it? Trying to feel out her preferences and steer them in which way to go. Nagako is ever so cognizant of what they're doing. Heading into it with reckless abandon won't do. She cares about Sujin, more than either one of them are willing to admit right now.

"Fuck," Nagako exhales shakily. The energy is crackling between them and the air is thick with unspoken words, ones that leap to Nagako's tongue but never make it past her lips. Sujin's legs wrapped around her waist is criminal. Nagako decides to be selfish, she decides to take—decides to show Sujin exactly what she's been thinking about. "Okay, baby," Nagako responds, the pet name slipping out unbidden.

She shifts again, presses them together everywhere they can meet, greedy for the warmth. Her fingers seek out Sujin's cunt similarly and she briefly massages against Sujin's entrance before pressing them inside. "You're so pretty when you're needy," Nagako comments. "I want to hear you say my name."

something about the softness in nagako's voice when she speaks to her nearly brings tears to sujin's eyes. she's feeling so much, the intensity of the other woman's fingers working her over in a way that makes her see stars alongside the delicate way she's being held. the way gako looks at her like she's something worth holding, worth touching. it makes her stomach clench, makes her eyes a little softer around the edges as she tries, and fails, to stifle her noises by chewing into her lower lip.

"ahhhh." it escapes before she can stop, her back arching the second gako's fingers sink into her. she reaches so deep, curls against her walls in a way that makes sujin wonder if this is what sex is always supposed to be like. her fingers curl, nails digging into the soft flesh of gako's shoulder as she tucks her face against her chest. her eyes close, almost afraid to look down and see the action as it's happening. she knows it'll ruin her even more than she already it.

instead, her lips purse, pressing soft kisses against her skin between the quiet, breathy moans that pass her lips. "it feels so good," she whines, toes curling against her calf. "so -- your fingers are so... so much better than mine." on a louder whine, she tilts her head back, lidded gaze focus on gako's intense face. "nagako," she breathes, giving her what she wants without a second thought. with no worries hanging above her -- because this is easy. letting herself feel good is easy than saying what her heart wants.