random drabbles from kpfw
Random Drabbles
Rating: G to R
Fandoms: Super Junior+SHINee
Pairings: kyuhae, 2hyun, kyuwon, hanwook
I've decided to make a consolidated post of stuff I wrote in kpfw, especially for the 15 minute challenges. Sorry for spamming your fpages, flist D:
Thank you siaht for the formatting advice!
--
dirtytalk kyuhae: we had x-rated conversations on the streets of a foreign country, and no one could understand us.
“You don’t know how much I want to press you against that wall right now and fuck you senseless.” Donghae says, meeting Kyuhyun’s eyes for a second before handing the notepad back to the fan with his patented idol smile.
His heart beats wildly in his chest and he can’t quite stop himself from glancing around for hidden tape recorders or cameras. Sure, it’s an unplanned layover in Osaka, but there are still fans around who recognize them. If they’re caught, if someone understands, their image -
“I want hear your knees crack when I push you down.” Kyuhyun turns back when Donghae is speaking again. His head is bent down over another notebook, and the girl must think he’s raining her praises, from the way she’s giggling and bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “And when you open your mouth to complain about how much it hurts, I’m going to shove my cock down your throat until you can’t breathe.”
Kyuhyun swallows.
Originally unfinished, but a nice anon suggested adding a period and calling it a drabble. thank you for your advice.
churchcamp kyuhae: I had gay sex at church camp - three times
Donghae spies a girl at the opposite end of the room, sitting by herself at the dining table and looking like the last thing she wants to do is be here. He can’t help but share that sentiment. He’s been to middle school dances wilder than this one, but he really shouldn’t complain. This is church camp after all.
So he walks to her table and invites her for a twirl on the dance floor, because misery loves company and there’s no one more miserable than he is right now, blue-balled and stuck at Camp for Christ until he stops being gay. He wonders if this is part of their strategy; maybe if they parade enough cute girls in front of him, he might gain more of an appreciation for curvy hips and soft breasts. And maybe it’s working, because Donghae finds himself steadily growing hard throughout their dance, and when he asks, shakily, if she’d like to come back to his bunk for the night, he finds the curve of her pouty smirk irresistible.
No one is more surprised than he is when he finds out that the (ok, somewhat flat, and that bulge should have been a giveaway) girl he’s been dancing all night is actually a dude with a real dick and an ass he can't wait to bury himself into. And when they have hot, wild sex in their too narrow bed, Donghae doesn’t think the next three weeks would be that unbearable after all, especially after he finds that Kyuhyun ("you can call me Kyuyoung, though, if that turns you on") is here to suffer every day with him.
kyuwon: people think i've stopped lying, but i've just gotten better at it.
“I love you.” Siwon says, fingernail tracing over a shiny scar slashing across otherwise unblemished skin. He presses deep just to see Kyuhyun’s face contort with discomfort.
His hand is slapped away. “No you don’t, you love God more.” Kyuhyun replies, sliding his body downwards until his head is level with his straining cock. Siwon wastes no time in threading his fingers in the other boy’s hair and pulling his mouth down, down, deep. He hears gagging but can’t bring himself to care right now, because there’s Kyuhyun’s mouth hot around him and his fingers sliding into him touching that spot over and over again until he’s shaking with want. The feeling of latex covered cock pushing into him is too good to deny, and he comes to thoughts salvation and damnation all bundled together into one package.
That’s right, he tells himself, looking at the way Kyuhyun’s eyelashes cast dark smudges on his cheek; he has to physically stop himself from rubbing his thumb over it. I do love God more.
siwon: reach inside of me/ squeeze the scream out of my heart/ breathe silence back in.
“Med school.” His father had decided, “if you can’t be a businessman or lawyer, you might as well be useful and make yourself into a doctor. Pastors are a dying breed, boy, I don’t want you hounding your brothers later for money when your belief falls through.”
So Siwon did what his father said and packs for school. He tucked his religion close to himself, and it festered there sometimes, woke him at night with longing, but he pushed and shoved until it fit into the deepest recesses of his heart. This was not the path meant for him, he decided, family obligations come first.
His father was right, he decides now, knuckles deep in the entrails of some prostitute he has picked up earlier. She had screamed at him, begged for her life, but he had shut her up with a quick swipe of the blade. So needlessly hysterical; couldn’t she see that she is doing God’s work?
He sits back and admires the beautiful arrangement of organs and tissue, from the meshwork of blood vessels and those intertwined nerves, to that perfect arrangement of bones. Both elegant and functional; how could anyone ever deny intelligent design?
2hyun: i'm so scared that growing up means dying a little inside
When Jonghyun was five years old (“Five!” he would say, spreading out all the fingers on one hand, proudly displaying his age to anyone who would stop long enough to listen) he kissed boys in his kindergarten because that’s how mommy and daddy showed they loved each other and that’s how they showed they loved him. He didn’t kiss any girls though, because they were like his sister, and he would never kiss his sister because he didn’t like her and she didn’t like him.
The other boys didn’t mind, because Jonghyun smelled nice and shared his candy and they liked him too. Their kindergarten teacher only laughed every time he pressed his lips against another boy’s chocolate smeared mouth, and it all went along well until the principal caught them one day and Jonghyun wasn’t allowed to go back there anymore. He learned why by the stripes on his back and long faded bruises on his shoulder.
When Jonghyun is nineteen years old (he would need all his fingers and most of his toes to count that now), he walks into the rehearsal room and sees Cho Kyuhyun, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent light, singing their duet softly under his breath. Jonghyun knows better than to kiss boys now, but that has never stopped him from wanting to.
in which henry dies at the beginning: i am a peaceful person who happens to be filled with violent rage
Everything is sunshine and rainbows and puppies and integers one day when Henry falls off the hotel roof and decorates the cement below with blood and guts and splattered brain tissue.
Well, he didn’t exactly fall - wait, well, maybe he did, but that’s only the second part, you see. The first part involved someone strategically applying about 40 Newtons of force to the middle of his back, toppling him off the balcony and, well, you know the rest.
He managed to take down a couple of fans, though, from what he could see, and although that wasn’t his intention, he can’t say he doesn’t approve. They’ve been hounding them for days now, shouting Han Geng Hangenghangenghangenggenggenggeng over and over outside their windows until they’re drinking Ryeowook’s tears in their soups and breathing Siwon’s high-end cigarette smoke.
Henry’s incessant violin playing scratches his eardrums. He told him to stop, but he wouldn’t, so he said “Henry I got something to show you outside” and the boy said “ok, gege what do you need?”
And, again, you know the rest.
He wonders who it should be next when wafts of charred paper and tobacco reaches his nose and chokes his throat. Siwon it is then. He needs to keep his voice pristine. He is one of their main vocalists after all.
hanwook: i long for something i can't understand and sometimes i feel like it will never come and then i get scared that this is all there is
“Fuck.” Han Geng growls, or at least Ryeowook thinks he’s saying. It’s one of those words Zhou Mi told him never to say in public, because it’s not ok no matter how many times he hears Geng-ge, Henry, or Kyuhyun mutter it under their breaths.
“Fuck.” Han Geng swears again, and Ryeowook wants to say, yes, that’s exactly what we just did, now come back to bed and let’s sleep until I wake up alone tomorrow morning to find you and Siwon again in the shower. But the words remain sticky and unsaid in the back of his throat; it’s hard to breathe past them sometimes, but Ryeowook has gotten used to it by now.
He lifts himself off the mattress and wraps his arms around Han Geng’s middle, pressing close until bare chest touches naked back. “Don’t worry hyung,” he says, “I won’t tell Jongwoon.”
Sometimes, he wonders if Han Geng feels the same way about him, if he’s willing to give up everything for them like Ryeowook would for those three words. It scares him too, but Ryeowook just presses himself closer and let this silence define them.
whore!kyu: originally for umberela
He thinks there’s must be a special circle of hell reserved just for people who sleep with their best friend’s fiancée the night before their wedding, but with Sooyoung’s legs wrapped around him and her moans hot and moist against his ear, it’s really hard to be concerned with the outcome of his afterlife right now. So he turns his head a little and sucks dark red bruises into her neck, marks he knows from experience can’t be covered completely with makeup.
He slides a hand down her shoulder, not breaking the rhythm of their thrusts, and cups one breast before trailing down further to grind his thumb rhythmically against her clit. His knuckles brush against smooth, hairless skin, and the part of him still capable of rational thought inputs helpfully that she probably got waxed in preparation for her wedding night.
Sungmin is going to kill him tomorrow.
Not that it bothers him. He’ll be forgiven over time, although some will get a tad weary about showing him their girlfriends. There’s a reason Shindong won’t speak to him anymore, but Kyuhyun thinks he’s just being petty. He wonders why they can’t understand that he’s doing this for the good of the group, that when Super Junior gathers again five, ten, fifteen years later with a full complement of members, it will be due to his actions right now contributing to their unity.
Besides, he’s not the only one who thinks that way. He still remembers the day Heechul laughed, loud and clear and genuine, when Hankyun left his girlfriend of two years and decided to stay in Korea. The basket of cookies Ryeowook sent him when Jongwoon’s fiancée suddenly called off the wedding still sits in his kitchen. Kyuhyun thinks he’s going to savor that one for a long time.
-and speaking of which, Hyukjae phoned him the other day about Donghae’s engagement to Jessica. Maybe he should switch it up this time for a bit of variety, he thinks, and comes to the thought of messy brown hair and lithe dancer’s body spread naked beneath him.
torchwood!SHINee: for the lulz
All Minho has ever wanted is an ordinary life with a beautiful wife and two children. Most people would call him boring; he remembers his old mates always dragging him out to pubs to instill a bit of excitement in his life, but he's never wanted something like that. In fact, he'd be perfectly happy with a nine to five job that leaves his evenings free for fifa reruns and his weekends for coaching junior football.
But the girl he was hoping to marry got turned into a cyborg and is now dead (he shot her himself) and he's playing teaboy-slash-nanny-slash-getaway driver to a group of people who really shouldn't have access to half the technology they come across.
Oh, and he's kind of shagging their leader, who can't go a day without kill himself by accident in exceedingly inventive ways. Yesterday it was because he fell off the lift trying to feed their pterodactyl (oh, they've got one of those, didn't you know?) and the day before that he walked into an armed robbery while trying to pick up some staples from the corner store. It's probably a good thing Onew can't die, although it was a horrible hassle tracking down everyone who had the pleasure of watching a dead man come to life again.
Some days, Minho thinks he should just retcon the water supply every night. It would make his job so much easier.
But all those things are considered small nuisances by now, like being verbally abused daily by misanthropic doctors who have not yet take their morning coffee. Minho takes his revenge by never ceasing reminding him of his height and, on the worst days, slips him decaf. He'll never understand how Key could be so infatuated with someone so foul mouthed and grumpy, but he's never been one to pass judgment on these sorts of things.
A crash brings him out of his introspection and into their current crisis. Minho knows immediate by the sheepish smile on Onew's face that he broke something, again, and looks down to see shards of his favorite mug (King Minho's Coffee Club. why did it have to be that one?) decorating the ground.
"Just...stay where you are." Minho says, before the sound of paper falling to the ground reaches his ears. It's the new kid, Taemin, who is still wet behind the ears. He looks to be on the verge of tears. This must be such a traumatic experience for him.
"Everybody, just don't move them." He repeats. He ought to kill Onew for activating that device, not that it would do him any good. Maybe he should bury him for a couple of years, yes, that ought to do the trick.
"It's not like we can help it." Jonghyun says, spreading out the new appendage sticking out of his back and knocking a couple of monitors onto the ground in the process. "I think my wingspan is bigger than yours."
On second thought, maybe he ought to bury himself instead.
Small changes were made to correct grammatical errors (of which there were many).
Rating: G to R
Fandoms: Super Junior+SHINee
Pairings: kyuhae, 2hyun, kyuwon, hanwook
I've decided to make a consolidated post of stuff I wrote in kpfw, especially for the 15 minute challenges. Sorry for spamming your fpages, flist D:
Thank you siaht for the formatting advice!
--
dirtytalk kyuhae: we had x-rated conversations on the streets of a foreign country, and no one could understand us.
“You don’t know how much I want to press you against that wall right now and fuck you senseless.” Donghae says, meeting Kyuhyun’s eyes for a second before handing the notepad back to the fan with his patented idol smile.
His heart beats wildly in his chest and he can’t quite stop himself from glancing around for hidden tape recorders or cameras. Sure, it’s an unplanned layover in Osaka, but there are still fans around who recognize them. If they’re caught, if someone understands, their image -
“I want hear your knees crack when I push you down.” Kyuhyun turns back when Donghae is speaking again. His head is bent down over another notebook, and the girl must think he’s raining her praises, from the way she’s giggling and bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “And when you open your mouth to complain about how much it hurts, I’m going to shove my cock down your throat until you can’t breathe.”
Kyuhyun swallows.
Originally unfinished, but a nice anon suggested adding a period and calling it a drabble. thank you for your advice.
churchcamp kyuhae: I had gay sex at church camp - three times
Donghae spies a girl at the opposite end of the room, sitting by herself at the dining table and looking like the last thing she wants to do is be here. He can’t help but share that sentiment. He’s been to middle school dances wilder than this one, but he really shouldn’t complain. This is church camp after all.
So he walks to her table and invites her for a twirl on the dance floor, because misery loves company and there’s no one more miserable than he is right now, blue-balled and stuck at Camp for Christ until he stops being gay. He wonders if this is part of their strategy; maybe if they parade enough cute girls in front of him, he might gain more of an appreciation for curvy hips and soft breasts. And maybe it’s working, because Donghae finds himself steadily growing hard throughout their dance, and when he asks, shakily, if she’d like to come back to his bunk for the night, he finds the curve of her pouty smirk irresistible.
No one is more surprised than he is when he finds out that the (ok, somewhat flat, and that bulge should have been a giveaway) girl he’s been dancing all night is actually a dude with a real dick and an ass he can't wait to bury himself into. And when they have hot, wild sex in their too narrow bed, Donghae doesn’t think the next three weeks would be that unbearable after all, especially after he finds that Kyuhyun ("you can call me Kyuyoung, though, if that turns you on") is here to suffer every day with him.
kyuwon: people think i've stopped lying, but i've just gotten better at it.
“I love you.” Siwon says, fingernail tracing over a shiny scar slashing across otherwise unblemished skin. He presses deep just to see Kyuhyun’s face contort with discomfort.
His hand is slapped away. “No you don’t, you love God more.” Kyuhyun replies, sliding his body downwards until his head is level with his straining cock. Siwon wastes no time in threading his fingers in the other boy’s hair and pulling his mouth down, down, deep. He hears gagging but can’t bring himself to care right now, because there’s Kyuhyun’s mouth hot around him and his fingers sliding into him touching that spot over and over again until he’s shaking with want. The feeling of latex covered cock pushing into him is too good to deny, and he comes to thoughts salvation and damnation all bundled together into one package.
That’s right, he tells himself, looking at the way Kyuhyun’s eyelashes cast dark smudges on his cheek; he has to physically stop himself from rubbing his thumb over it. I do love God more.
siwon: reach inside of me/ squeeze the scream out of my heart/ breathe silence back in.
“Med school.” His father had decided, “if you can’t be a businessman or lawyer, you might as well be useful and make yourself into a doctor. Pastors are a dying breed, boy, I don’t want you hounding your brothers later for money when your belief falls through.”
So Siwon did what his father said and packs for school. He tucked his religion close to himself, and it festered there sometimes, woke him at night with longing, but he pushed and shoved until it fit into the deepest recesses of his heart. This was not the path meant for him, he decided, family obligations come first.
His father was right, he decides now, knuckles deep in the entrails of some prostitute he has picked up earlier. She had screamed at him, begged for her life, but he had shut her up with a quick swipe of the blade. So needlessly hysterical; couldn’t she see that she is doing God’s work?
He sits back and admires the beautiful arrangement of organs and tissue, from the meshwork of blood vessels and those intertwined nerves, to that perfect arrangement of bones. Both elegant and functional; how could anyone ever deny intelligent design?
2hyun: i'm so scared that growing up means dying a little inside
When Jonghyun was five years old (“Five!” he would say, spreading out all the fingers on one hand, proudly displaying his age to anyone who would stop long enough to listen) he kissed boys in his kindergarten because that’s how mommy and daddy showed they loved each other and that’s how they showed they loved him. He didn’t kiss any girls though, because they were like his sister, and he would never kiss his sister because he didn’t like her and she didn’t like him.
The other boys didn’t mind, because Jonghyun smelled nice and shared his candy and they liked him too. Their kindergarten teacher only laughed every time he pressed his lips against another boy’s chocolate smeared mouth, and it all went along well until the principal caught them one day and Jonghyun wasn’t allowed to go back there anymore. He learned why by the stripes on his back and long faded bruises on his shoulder.
When Jonghyun is nineteen years old (he would need all his fingers and most of his toes to count that now), he walks into the rehearsal room and sees Cho Kyuhyun, eyes closed against the harsh fluorescent light, singing their duet softly under his breath. Jonghyun knows better than to kiss boys now, but that has never stopped him from wanting to.
in which henry dies at the beginning: i am a peaceful person who happens to be filled with violent rage
Everything is sunshine and rainbows and puppies and integers one day when Henry falls off the hotel roof and decorates the cement below with blood and guts and splattered brain tissue.
Well, he didn’t exactly fall - wait, well, maybe he did, but that’s only the second part, you see. The first part involved someone strategically applying about 40 Newtons of force to the middle of his back, toppling him off the balcony and, well, you know the rest.
He managed to take down a couple of fans, though, from what he could see, and although that wasn’t his intention, he can’t say he doesn’t approve. They’ve been hounding them for days now, shouting Han Geng Hangenghangenghangenggenggenggeng over and over outside their windows until they’re drinking Ryeowook’s tears in their soups and breathing Siwon’s high-end cigarette smoke.
Henry’s incessant violin playing scratches his eardrums. He told him to stop, but he wouldn’t, so he said “Henry I got something to show you outside” and the boy said “ok, gege what do you need?”
And, again, you know the rest.
He wonders who it should be next when wafts of charred paper and tobacco reaches his nose and chokes his throat. Siwon it is then. He needs to keep his voice pristine. He is one of their main vocalists after all.
hanwook: i long for something i can't understand and sometimes i feel like it will never come and then i get scared that this is all there is
“Fuck.” Han Geng growls, or at least Ryeowook thinks he’s saying. It’s one of those words Zhou Mi told him never to say in public, because it’s not ok no matter how many times he hears Geng-ge, Henry, or Kyuhyun mutter it under their breaths.
“Fuck.” Han Geng swears again, and Ryeowook wants to say, yes, that’s exactly what we just did, now come back to bed and let’s sleep until I wake up alone tomorrow morning to find you and Siwon again in the shower. But the words remain sticky and unsaid in the back of his throat; it’s hard to breathe past them sometimes, but Ryeowook has gotten used to it by now.
He lifts himself off the mattress and wraps his arms around Han Geng’s middle, pressing close until bare chest touches naked back. “Don’t worry hyung,” he says, “I won’t tell Jongwoon.”
Sometimes, he wonders if Han Geng feels the same way about him, if he’s willing to give up everything for them like Ryeowook would for those three words. It scares him too, but Ryeowook just presses himself closer and let this silence define them.
whore!kyu: originally for umberela
He thinks there’s must be a special circle of hell reserved just for people who sleep with their best friend’s fiancée the night before their wedding, but with Sooyoung’s legs wrapped around him and her moans hot and moist against his ear, it’s really hard to be concerned with the outcome of his afterlife right now. So he turns his head a little and sucks dark red bruises into her neck, marks he knows from experience can’t be covered completely with makeup.
He slides a hand down her shoulder, not breaking the rhythm of their thrusts, and cups one breast before trailing down further to grind his thumb rhythmically against her clit. His knuckles brush against smooth, hairless skin, and the part of him still capable of rational thought inputs helpfully that she probably got waxed in preparation for her wedding night.
Sungmin is going to kill him tomorrow.
Not that it bothers him. He’ll be forgiven over time, although some will get a tad weary about showing him their girlfriends. There’s a reason Shindong won’t speak to him anymore, but Kyuhyun thinks he’s just being petty. He wonders why they can’t understand that he’s doing this for the good of the group, that when Super Junior gathers again five, ten, fifteen years later with a full complement of members, it will be due to his actions right now contributing to their unity.
Besides, he’s not the only one who thinks that way. He still remembers the day Heechul laughed, loud and clear and genuine, when Hankyun left his girlfriend of two years and decided to stay in Korea. The basket of cookies Ryeowook sent him when Jongwoon’s fiancée suddenly called off the wedding still sits in his kitchen. Kyuhyun thinks he’s going to savor that one for a long time.
-and speaking of which, Hyukjae phoned him the other day about Donghae’s engagement to Jessica. Maybe he should switch it up this time for a bit of variety, he thinks, and comes to the thought of messy brown hair and lithe dancer’s body spread naked beneath him.
torchwood!SHINee: for the lulz
All Minho has ever wanted is an ordinary life with a beautiful wife and two children. Most people would call him boring; he remembers his old mates always dragging him out to pubs to instill a bit of excitement in his life, but he's never wanted something like that. In fact, he'd be perfectly happy with a nine to five job that leaves his evenings free for fifa reruns and his weekends for coaching junior football.
But the girl he was hoping to marry got turned into a cyborg and is now dead (he shot her himself) and he's playing teaboy-slash-nanny-slash-getaway driver to a group of people who really shouldn't have access to half the technology they come across.
Oh, and he's kind of shagging their leader, who can't go a day without kill himself by accident in exceedingly inventive ways. Yesterday it was because he fell off the lift trying to feed their pterodactyl (oh, they've got one of those, didn't you know?) and the day before that he walked into an armed robbery while trying to pick up some staples from the corner store. It's probably a good thing Onew can't die, although it was a horrible hassle tracking down everyone who had the pleasure of watching a dead man come to life again.
Some days, Minho thinks he should just retcon the water supply every night. It would make his job so much easier.
But all those things are considered small nuisances by now, like being verbally abused daily by misanthropic doctors who have not yet take their morning coffee. Minho takes his revenge by never ceasing reminding him of his height and, on the worst days, slips him decaf. He'll never understand how Key could be so infatuated with someone so foul mouthed and grumpy, but he's never been one to pass judgment on these sorts of things.
A crash brings him out of his introspection and into their current crisis. Minho knows immediate by the sheepish smile on Onew's face that he broke something, again, and looks down to see shards of his favorite mug (King Minho's Coffee Club. why did it have to be that one?) decorating the ground.
"Just...stay where you are." Minho says, before the sound of paper falling to the ground reaches his ears. It's the new kid, Taemin, who is still wet behind the ears. He looks to be on the verge of tears. This must be such a traumatic experience for him.
"Everybody, just don't move them." He repeats. He ought to kill Onew for activating that device, not that it would do him any good. Maybe he should bury him for a couple of years, yes, that ought to do the trick.
"It's not like we can help it." Jonghyun says, spreading out the new appendage sticking out of his back and knocking a couple of monitors onto the ground in the process. "I think my wingspan is bigger than yours."
On second thought, maybe he ought to bury himself instead.
Small changes were made to correct grammatical errors (of which there were many).