tumblr challenge!

Jul 20, 2012 02:34

Basically, I was challenged by furutsu, who linked me some tumblr gifs/edits (meaning they're not either hers or mine, ok) for me to write drabbles on. Thanks for the picks! ♥
Some images aren't linked to their sources because she forgot to or couldn't track down the original posters of them, but if you're the owner of anything linked here and would like me to put your name up, just let me know and sorry in advance :/

Member Support: Ensuring a better coexistence
(MBLAQ) Gen (G.O./Joon if you squint?). PG-13.
Prompt: Joon, close your legs
Images: 1; 2 (photo source); 3 (tumblr source)

Complaint n. 1: Sleep disturbance
Reported by: Park Sanghyun
Location of occurrence: Bedroom

Thunder isn’t comfortable with this. He’s not sure if he can protest, even more because this is Joon’s room as much as it is his, and he really should be able to deal with this by now after a month sleeping in the same room as him, but still. No matter how much Thunder tried, it just seemed very awkward, as opposed to how it should be.

“Hyung,” he clears his throat from his post on his own mattress, eyes finally lying upon the man across the room.

Joon mumbles something in response, not bothering enough to open his eyes.

Thunder doesn’t let himself be discouraged by his body language (that is yelling at Thunder that he wants to fucking sleep already). “I don’t think you should sleep like this.”

Joon’s eye cracks open and squints at the younger one, eyebrow expressing his indignation.

“I’m comfortable like this,” he snaps as he gives Thunder a weird look, moving a little so his leg (the one he has hooked around the wardrobe’s lower shelf) doesn’t ache from the shelf digging into his thigh.

Thinking to himself, Thunder insists it would be just fine if it weren’t summer and Joon weren’t wearing only his black briefs (even though he’d said many times he’d rather go naked) to sleep. It doesn’t feel right.

“Hyung, just close your legs.”

Joon mumbles some gibberish - Thunder makes out something along the lines of even dongsaengs boss me around and can never do anything I fucking want - but he does obey, not without a glare at Thunder first.

It has no effect, Thunder has already closed his eyes in relief.

Complaint n. 2: Obscene TV for minors
Reported by: Bang Cheolyong
Location of occurrence: Filming set

Mir’s bored out of his mind, sprawled across the dorm’s living room couch with his legs up the backrest, probably knowing his mother would scold him if she saw him like this when he still wasn’t a hundred percent recovered from his waist injury. He misses it back at home, but being alone at the dorm after spending a week with his family settles just fine with him. He can finally eat all the junk he wants without anyone to slap his hands away from it.

He pretends to himself he just stumbles across MBLAQ’s Sesame Player. He was just zapping through channels and happened to find it, he does not miss his bandmates, does not particularly feel left out when they come back home after filming and don’t even tell him about what had went on and pretty much leave him out of their busy idol lives - those assholes don’t even call him cute just for the sake of it anymore, but he doesn’t miss that.

He chuckles to himself through the show, cocks a judgmental eyebrow and shakes his head at how lost they all are in variety shows without his charismatic, naturally humorous self.

It loses its mild fun when Mir sees Joon with his legs all stretched out in the sofa right next to G.O., feet pointing in opposing directions and really, that just is not pretty to look at. Mir is personally not interested in how flexible Joon is or what is the precise shape of his butt cheeks.

“Why don’t you just close your goddamn legs, hyung?” he whispers pitifully to himself.

Joon, under some sort of transcendental communication method, must have listened, because he spreads them so further apart it’s a miracle his jeans don’t rip (never mind Mir fruitlessly trying to use the power of his mind, in the same transcendental ways, to do the job instead).

Complaint n. 3:
Reported by:
Location of occurrence:

G.O. doesn’t see what’s the fucking problem with his bandmate, a child of God like all of them, trying to innocuously exercise his flexibility, God’s blessed gift to his child, and causing no form of harm whatsoever to any of the other members in the band.

Look at him, so bendy, so firm in all parts of his body, such pretty legs going all in different directions, with endless possibilities - it’d be a shame to rid the world from witnessing such passion for, well, being flexible, and that must be some sort of art because-

“Stop staring, Byunghee,” Seungho’s voice says from a far distance, G.O. almost doesn’t catch it. “Byunghee, why are you- DON’T. DO NOT TOUCH- BYUNGHEE. CHANGSUNG AH, CLOSE YOUR LEGS.”

*

Seungho rubs his temples and lets out a sigh of relief, watching on the floor as Joon becomes united with his passion for being flexible in a socially acceptable (for an idol) way. He even smiles a little because Joon looks so happy clinging onto the pole, wrapping his fingers and legs around it, and he learns so quickly his teacher is fairly impressed.

“This idea was brilliant, hyung,” Joon calls chirpily from across the rehearsal room. Seungho laughs and nods - it had been surprisingly easy to convince the management Joon would be perfect for a pole dance solo. It wasn’t a brilliant idea, though, Seungho knew, but it was the best he could come up with after all the complaints (and also, G.O. being G.O.)

“Have fun in there,” he smiles as Joon gets back to business, and he quickly loses interest in Joon’s maneuvers when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

From the corner of his eye, Seungho sees a figure standing next to him as he types away his in phone.

“Well, thank God,” he says, sparing a glance at a concentrated (fascinated) G.O. “I guess this is another problem down.”

Candy Candy
(MBLAQ) Seungho/his lips/his tongue(/lollipop). PG-13 ...ish.
Prompt: Seungho/lips/tongue OT3
Images: 1; 2; and my personal add to fit the drabble (tumblr source)

His eyelids close out of instinct as he softly pushes his head into the cushion behind his neck, humming quietly, imperceptibly, just a tiny muffled sound lost in the depth of this throat. They’re all moist and waiting, just as he likes them, so inviting, so lonely - parting lightly, creating a bright red, glossy round shape as his jaw relaxes.

The pale pink candy is pressed against them, getting surrounded by the slick confusion, sweet to the taste - Seungho takes a sharp inhale. He can feel his lips twitch pleasantly, reacting to the sugar spread over them. They’re teasing, enticing, daring. It’s not he who controls his actions, his body takes over his senses. His tongue’s darting out, licking off the thin layer the candy had smeared over the plump lips - it swirls, curls around itself once back in the warmth of his mouth, letting him savor the artificial strawberry flavor from the lollipop. It’s a sample, a mere, unfulfilling sample that has him licking his slips again, smacking them, tongue pressed against them as it slides back into his mouth, collecting the last drop of the sugary liquid his saliva had produced out of the lollipop.

Seungho pops the candy into his mouth, wet lips puckering around its plastic stem. He twists it inside with the aid of his tongue, the always avid and hot tongue, enveloping the sweet only to let it go and push it to the corner of his mouth, press it against the inside of his cheek until a visible round shape could be seeing sticking out on its outside. His teeth graze at the candy - he can’t control himself. He teases himself with the tiny, powdery amounts that fly off and quickly get dissolved in his saliva, but it’s so hard to resist the urge to bite down onto the lollipop and break it down, so he gives up and does just that.

The splinters fly to all parts of his mouth and his tongue gladly collects them all, gathering them on its own center and curling around them - and he sucks, feels the air and saliva being vacuumed out, feels the splinters digging drily into his tongue. Then he gives another hum and moistens them again, running them trough his mouth. His tongue whips out again, caressing the lips - how dry they had gotten in just those few brief moments, begging the tongue to wet them once again.

And it does, as the fragments of candy get stuck between his inner cheeks and rows of teeth - it flattens against them, moves slowly, soothingly, distributing its moisture over them. The tip becomes red as it is smoothed over the surface of the each lip, from corner to corner, lingering over a small injury on the lower one, making sure to feel it, taste the faint metallic flavor on the spot.

This time, Seungho groans, the mix of tastes further intoxicating him, and he lets his tongue work its way between his lips once again, outlining the lower one’s finely-marked contour with the white stem of the lollipop distractedly. He lets out another tiny moan and sighs, eyebrows creasing the slightest bit amongst the sensations.

He halts and opens his eyes when he hears a cough. Across him, in the van, sat Joon and Mir, both staring - eyes wide, mouths twisted in a tense thin line - at him with evident discomfort. He blinks confusedly, licking his lips out of instinct, and only barely notices when they flinch.

“Hey,” he recognizes G.O.’s voice to the left, and see he sitting by Thunder across the van, the two of them mimicking Joon and Mir’s stare, even if G.O.’s eyes were narrowed instead of widened - Seungho feels a little self conscious under the four pairs of eyes harshly glaring at him. “Get a room, will you?”

He doesn’t get what that means for a few seconds until a small smile play on his wet, red lips, looking back at each of them as the smile grows a bit. He doesn’t disagree that he may, in fact, need one, but - much to his surprise, even if not an unpleasant one, as he feels a good deal smug - he might not be the only one.

A Short Bridge
(MBLAQ) Slight Seungho/Thunder, even slighter Seungho/Joon. R.
Prompt: Vampjoon, Vampho, troublemaker!Doong
Images: 1 (tumblr source); 2 (tumblr source); 3 (tumblr source); 4


What exists between life and death? A short bridge.
-Machado de Assis
Filthy.

Sanghyun’s nose scrunches up as he wipes the gin drops off the corner of his mouth. It’s blood (he’s familiar with it) and that putrid stench of death. He’d seen the man roaming around the town, getting looks everywhere - the discreet decadent ladies craning their necks, the bubbly maidens giggling behind their fingers and the harlots letting their leer linger on his neck. He’s watched him ignoring or retributing stares as he pleased, far from concerned with the attention he’s gotten as the stranger. Even then, Sanghyun had thought there was something wrong with him.

Rotten.

He sees him far into the ally in that hot summer night (it’s always hot in the forsaken tiny hole), bent over another figure. Sanghyun doesn’t need to see the face to know it’s him, he has enough from the silky hair glistening under the moonlight and built up back muscles flexing visibly under the fabric of his shirt. The person lying limp on the floor, and by the stained frills of her skirt and the dust on her second-hand shoes, he knows it’s one of those unattractive harlots that so kindly offered to keep him company for the warm nights (he took it, he didn’t complain about what was given open-handed to him).

Dingy.

Sanghyun grabs the dagger by his left hip, thinks about what his father had taught him years before. Humans mutated into psychotic creatures, twisted in cannibalistic fantasies, feeding off blood of their own siblings. They come in the best appearances, Sanghyun, they deceive and lure us in. Sanghyun blinks, the strong smell of the blood pouring from the harlot’s pale neck makes his stomach curl uncomfortably. Best packages with rotten contents.

Cold.

He holds up the dagger about a meter above the man’s back. Aim for the left, where its frozen heart no longer beats. Sanghyun frowns, hears himself hiccup - that man, that gorgeous man with glittering eyes, a monster. Isn’t that something? Sanghyun should kill it, shouldn’t he? It’s what’s right, even if… His fingers tremble around the hilt, probably an effect from the alcohol. All this movement, all these shadows, but the man had been so distracted, feasting in the dark liquid, licking up her skin and his own fingers, he never heard or seen anything. Sanghyun would walk away unpunished, unsuspected. It would be right, even if…

“Don’t touch him,” a silky voice comes from behind. Sanghyun panics, drops the dagger, freezes over.

The man doesn’t seem to notice the voice, the slurping sounds persisting through the quiet, dark ally, joining the faint yells streets away from them, in the town’s western area, dead by day and lively and heated by night, with its whore houses and shady pubs.

“That’s right, keep your hands away,” Sanghyun doesn’t hear footsteps but then a hand is on his shoulder, gently pulling him backwards.

The third man has fair, fair skin, and something that catches Sanghyun’s eyes immediately - his golden hair, the bright (glistening in the dark night) bangs falling onto his eyes. He lets out a sigh, looking over at the man on the floor.

“So eager, so reckless. Oh, Changsun,” he shakes his head and smiles - the white fangs graze against his full, red, red lip, Sanghyun is mesmerized for a second. “You could tell right way, couldn’t you, Sanghyun? How hungry he was all the time.”

Sanghyun’s breath catches, and his eyes notice the man stepping onto his dagger, hears the hilt crack under his weight. But… how - had they met before?

“I, myself, take pride into acting with much more subtlety,” the darkness might be playing tricks on Sanghyun’s mind because he doesn’t remember the man standing so close to him, just so enough that he reached out and touched Sanghyun’s neck with a chilly fingertip, nail grazing down the skin with ease.

Void.

Don’t you know my name? Seungho smiles - Sanghyun frowns, blinks a couple times, where did he get that name from? Seungho’s smile widens and Sanghyun is sure that it’s the right name.

“Aren’t you tired of being the outcast, Sanghyun?” Seungho’s voice is low and enticing, it’s so easy to believe everything he says, he sounds as though he knew the keys to all mysteries in the universe, how to mend all injuries and calm the desperate - maybe he truly does? “Didn’t you get enough of being pushed around, working like a slave for a family that will never give you anything in reward?”

He finds himself nodding, drowning in Seungho’s voice (it feels such as velvet wrapping around his body, swallowing him whole, comforting and digesting him) and his head tilts to the side. There’s no anger, no pain, no hurt - there finally is just nothing as Seungho’s teeth dive into his milky skin, tainting it with dark red, and that all Sanghyun’s ever wanted.

You will fit in, Sanghyun. You’re one of mine, and I never abandon what is mine alone.

Sanghyun’s blurry vision detects the other man - Changsun, the handsome man of glittering eyes - approaching them, face and torso covered in blood that suddenly had a distinct smell to his previously untrained nostrils. Changsun wears a smile that looks warm and true, a welcoming smile, and Seungho leans back to allow him a taste of Sanghyun.

He feels welcome and wonders if this is what peace feels like, then realizes he’ll never know because he’d never experienced such a thing before.

Dead.

Sanghyun blinks, comprehends.

Haven’t you been all those things all along, Sanghyun?

XXXin' You
(MBLAQ) Mir centric, one-sided Seungho/Mir. NC-17.
Prompt: More on Mir from the porn star AU.
Images: 1 (photo source)

Mir’s fingers curl around the blankets on the mattress tightly, spreading them apart. He’s nibbling his lower lip, trying to glance down at his two fingers disappearing into his body, but his legs, pressing against his chest, don’t let him. He hates this position, it’s uncomfortable and he can’t breathe, can’t touch himself whenever he feels like it, but he’d grown used to it. Work sex, he learned soon enough, is very different from real, private sex, both in technique and frequency (the latter is a pity).

It’s his first shooting that week, the first one in five days. As a rather known star in his company, he is allowed to take larger breaks in shootings, something that wasn’t allowed to him four years ago, when he was still a young (underage) rookie and had to fuck in front of cameras almost every day. The second reason for his break is that the director wanted the boys on this film to come all over themselves, the emphasis of this solo series would be self-satisfaction leading to ropes and ropes of sperm spurting out of them; he’d even been forbidden to have personal sexual activity of any kind on his break.

He agreed with that just fine. As much as Mir likes sex (he enjoys his profession as much as he can), he does get tired of it occasionally. It had been months since the last time he’d jerked off off-cameras, and it isn’t like he’s in any sort of relationship (he counts on his fingers the number of people he keeps steady contact with) that would put him in danger of having sex. He liked the break while it lasted, and it did make this right now feel better, more exciting, resembling a little his first times shooting for the company, when he was still shy under the crew’s eyes and didn’t yet have to fake the shudders and moans responding to the touches on his body, touches he’d never experienced before.

He waits for the director’s cue and spreads his legs (takes a breath, relieved), holding one against his chest, not crushing his lungs this time, while the other hangs near the mattress, and reinserts his two fingers at once, humming at the sensation of being filled so fast. There’s a dildo near his discarded underwear, he eyes it briefly, knowing it was saved for later, then finally manages to take a look at the work his fingers had been blindly doing, sees how he’s dripping with lube, testicles and cheeks glistening with the liquid.

The director asks him to moan and he complies - he’d forgotten to act, which is a good thing. It means it feels good, which it kinda does (if he closes his eyes, he can even pretend the eyes aren’t on his naked figure, following his each movement as he slides a third finger in).

He rolls his body, hums and sighs, accepting the new finger, then his eyelids fall and surprisingly (not surprisingly at all, a tiny voice in his head protests in a mocking tone) his mind pictures his neighbor. Seungho, a decent, mostly quiet guy he’d know for over two years. He knows about Mir, how he’s Cheolyong’s job and pays Cheolyong’s bills - Cheolyong had wondered to himself more than once if he’d gotten also to watch Mir, see it for himself. If he found out Seungho was secretly a porn actor (he lets out a tiny moan, fingers himself deeper, the thought triggers a funny sensation in his stomach), he’d definitely want to watch everything related to it, but that’s him, and also he has a kind of crush on Seungho, so it’s a different situation.

Following the director’s instructions, Mir lets go of his thigh to grab the dildo near him. His legs fall wide open on the bed, his fingers never stop working, and he presses the tip of thin, tubular object onto his lips. The tip of his tongue slides out of his mouth, giving a quick lick at the top, teasing the camera, the viewer.

Maybe Seungho watches him, he thinks as he sucks on the dildo, pausing for a second to swirl his tongue around it. It’s wishful thinking, he understands, but can’t help himself either way, because that lights up something in him, and that something is definitely improving his performance. He makes eye contact with the camera, finally feeling completely like Mir, and moistens his lips, pictures with such accuracy Seungho watching him.

On the next command Mir turns around on all fours, leans his upper torso and head on the bed, twisting a little so the camera can get his face in one shot, ass sticking up mid-air. He guides the tip of the dildo inside him, feeling it slowly head in, stretching his skin and muscles. His forehead creases at the sensation, and sigh leaves his throat. It’s not his first time doing this, but it’s different this time, that something from before is still burning hot as he notices the crew’s eyes on him, on his stuffed hole.

Seungho must get as turned on as they are now when he watches, Mir thinks and grins at the camera, looking knowingly at it. Seungho should know he could get the real thing any moment he wanted, he really should - Mir groans, moving the object inside him slowly. Mm, Seungho definitely should show up in his place one of his days and fuck his brains out (his speed increases, the tip is pushed further and further in), both Mir and Cheolyong would love that, so so good, fuck him so good his legs would give in by the time they were done. Yes, yes - his eyes close out of pleasure for a second, the dildo brushing against his prostate - he would love to feel Seungho inside him as clearly as he feels the dildo now, filling him and touching that spot inside him, making Mir’s chest arch and meet his instead of the blankets underneath him.

Mir’s on his back again, arm around one uplifted thigh so his hand gets access below his hips, thrusting the dildo fast and hot into himself, feeling his fisted hand meet his ass on each prod. (Uh, please please watch this, it’s dedicated to you - each touch, each moan, all to you.) Seungho really should get his hands on this video when it comes out, Mir thinks in the back of his head as he mewls, other hand stroking himself in rhythm with his thrusts, and he feels borderline desperate for release.

He barely hears what the director is saying before he buries the object deep into himself before letting go, only jerking off faster, biting his lip so no names roll out of his lips as the loudening moans denounce the approach of his orgasm.

He’s gone, light-headed, cum on blankets and stomach and hands and fingers, he’s amazed by how much there is - he really got a good shot for this. The cameras are still rolling as he tries to catch his breath, the dildo slowly sliding out of his body. He licks his dry lips (thinks of Seungho’s full, moist ones) and glances at the camera as asked, big coy yet satiated eyes under heavy lashes, just like the director wanted, fitting his school boy concept on the film.

Mir receives his well earned compliments as he cleans himself with tissues handed by a girl in the crew, smiles at the director as he says how nice it was to work with Mir again. He wraps the robe the girl hands him around himself, bows to everyone in the room and goes to shower.

Maybe, any of these days, Cheolyong will be bold enough to ask Seungho if he watches Mir’s videos. If he doesn’t, Cheolyong considers as a memory flash of Mir’s taping today runs across his mind, it might be time for him to start.

Stricken
(MBLAQ) Joon centric, Seungho/Joon. R.
Prompt: "Hyung, look at my face"
Images: 1 (tumblr source)


Joon’s not sure of what his position is anymore.

He accepts what he is given and keeps his mouth shut, except for the moans and sighs and muffled screams he knows fall into Seungho’s liking. He doesn’t fight, doesn’t question (outside; on the inside… on the inside is another story) and complies when Seungho tips his head to the bedroom in the middle of the afternoon, with the rest of the band right there, seeing them, hearing them.

Joon even doesn’t care about G.O.’s judging stares and Mir’s raised brows, he forces himself to miss Thunder avoiding his gaze. He keeps silent through it all and only gives a small smile, telling himself it’ll be worth it.

A week.

A month.

A semester.

A year.

They all go by, and he keeps his eyes closed ant tells himself it’ll be worth it, soon enough, Seungho’s going to open up, he’s going to say he loves him back because why else would he ask to touch Joon like that, why else would he ask Joon to open himself for him (completely, inside out)?

He just wants to be loved back, held back, kissed back. Seungho touches and caresses and kisses, but it’s all so languid and far away, slipping fro m h i s f i n g e r s l i k e w a t e r

(before he’s even caught anything.)
It’s not much, right? Is it?

He double-guesses himself, he isn’t sure anymore. He once was, when he believed himself when he said

it’ll be worth it, it’ll have a meaning
but now nothing’s sure, nothing seems right. He glances over at Seungho, looks into his eyes, and frowns when he realizes they never look back into his. Seungho dodges his glances,

even under the sheets, even pressed against the rehearsal room mirror, even when he’s shushing Joon’s groans because the van driver might hear,

and Joon feels alone, in the cold.

He looks up one night and finds Thunder looking at him, gazing into his eyes.

It hurts to see you hurt like that, hyung,
he says, but Joon gives a smile (contained, not genuine, even though he knows anyone can tell the difference) and says he’s fine.

It’ll be worth it.
The smile becomes even less believable.

Joon grabs Seungho’s hair, forces his face up. He never stops moving, lifting his hips, only to slam them down into Seungho’s, cringing as his dick almost slides out of him to get rammed back inside in a second. He holds Seungho’s face between his hands, glares down at it, his grip turning strong enough to create a white outline of his fingers on Seungho’s skin.

Look at my face, hyung.
Seungho does, he looks at Joon, their eyes meet for the first time, and Joon lets go.

He loses balance, feels his body give in, feels Seungho flipping them over, his back now on the bed as the older one thrusts into him, but Joon doesn’t follow anymore,

just feels himself being pushed over the edgefalling
There had been nothing but broken promises all this time in Seungho’s gaze.

Beyond the hungry kisses that never felt real and sights blurred by lust and want, there was only the nothingness.

Seungho's heart had never been there.

(As he hovers above Joon, mindlessly fucking him into the mattress, barely noticing how immobile Joon had become, Joon asks himself if there even is a heart at all.)

And he’d hidden that from Joon - used him.

(He could see the shatters of the image he had of Seungho, the good hyung, the good leader, the good, decent man, flying around the room, scratching his skin painfully.)

Joon’s body hits the bottom
and cracks.

f: mblaq, p: g.o./joon, p: mir/seungho, r: nc-17, r: pg-13, p: seungho/thunder, c: mir, c: joon, r: r, p: joon/seungho

Previous post Next post
Up