the end!
are you all tired of girlfic? TOO BAD. me and digindeeper are actually supposed to be doing one for every suju member because ayray is a slavedriver. and you would not believe how hard it is to write kibum as a whorex12 and end with kihae, like, really. and I just haven’t been in the mood for writing when it comes to eunhyuk being violated by every single member. one day guys. one day.
The most peculiar thing, Kibum finds, is that no one notices that Kibum is a girl right away. He - she? well, Kibum won’t get into the specifics of that - knows that it has a lot to do with the fact that his breasts aren't huge double Ds (if anything, he barely qualifies for an A cup, maybe, yeah, and anyway he wears baggy shirts to hide them) and that his hair is still short and androgynous enough to pass off for a male cut and also he hasn't talked in the past two days to reveal the lack of bass in his voice, but really, are his bandmates that stupid?
Well, apparently they are, Kibum concludes after the third day because it's getting pathetic and eventually he'll have to add in his own snide remark to some situation and give himself away. Or. Or something.
“No way, you're joking, it's not funny.” Kangin brushes him off easily enough. Everyone nods in agreement and Hyukjae leans over casually, grinning jokingly and trying to grope his chest in affirmation.
When he squeaks and pulls back, stuttering, Kibum rolls his, her, eyes at the disbelieving stares and sudden hushed conversations.
“Do you really think,” Kibum says, completely exasperated and his hyungs and Kyuhyun should be smarter than this, really, “that my voice just miraculously became two registers higher on its own?”
---
Bras; Jungsu immediately sets them out on a mission for getting proper fitting bras because he is good at being leader like that and has learned plenty from the ‘Youngwoon Experience’.
“I think I am only an A cup…” Kibum mutters, groping himself - herself - oh whatever - in the bedroom mirror unabashedly as Ryeowook stares, wide eyed. The two of them are in disagreement as to what cup size Kibum is and, because Kibum is being unnecessarily stubborn about it before they go out and shop, they must settle this before anything.
“No way,” Ryeowook chimes in, sounding awed and a tad jealous for reasons Kibum does not ever want to know, ever, “No way, no way. You’re bigger than that, why are you underestimating yourself? You have a good shape.” He pauses, makes oblong shaped gestures in front of himself to demonstrate, and colors self consciously when Kibum gives him a strange look.
“Really,” Ryeowook reinforces, voice steady and honest. “Your bust is like…magical.”
Kibum looks back in the mirror and gives himself a few more experimental squeezes. “It’s the shirt.” Kibum sighs out, tugging at the material wistfully. “It’s bunching up and makes my breasts look bigger.”
“Nuh uh!”
Kibum raises his eyebrow at Ryeowook’s challenging pout and waves his hand. “Yeah, really. Look,” he figures the only way to prove his point and make Ryeowook drop the argument is to hike up his shirt and to show him, “You see? Like little mosquito bites, I swear.”
Ryeowook’s face erupts into an unnatural red, and his eyes waver, going from the floor, to the ceiling to behind Kibum (until he realizes that there’s a mirror and a reflection there and it’s no better than looking straight at Kibum), and finally land squarely on Kibum’s face. “No. No no no. They’re not. Uh, shirt. Okay, yeah.”
Kibum immediately analyzes the change of mood and has tendrils of thrill creeping down his spine, making him overly-alert and thinking fast, and he’s really liking the way Ryeowook is fidgeting uncomfortably and breathing funny out of his flared nostrils and trying to keep his eyes face level; he’s just inspired all that, installed all that fear and has secured an iron fist of power upon Ryeowook, all by showing a little skin.
(Kibum feels like he could take over the world like this.)
“Ryeowookie,” he purrs, just to try the role of seductress out, seeing if it’s manageable and it turns out to be easier than easy, taking a step towards him seated cross legged on the bed and testing just how far he can take this new found power, “Hyung, look.” Kibum takes one of Ryeowook’s hands out of his lap and presses it to his left breast and, when he flushes an even darker deeper red, worries for a moment if Ryeowook might pass out from all the blood rushing to his face.
(and actually, Kibum has to deal with an unconscious Ryeowook half a minute later, but by that point he knows what a well-placed kiss in combination with assisted boob fondling can do and also that Ryeowook is kind of really ninety five percent coy female teenager and five percent prepubescent bashful little girl, no, no really.)
---
It starts with Heechul because it's just one of those things that Heechul would put into concrete motion.
“Hyung,” Kibum whines, “you've been on the computer for hours, can I play Starcraft now?”
“No.” Heechul mumbles, for the most part distracted and not hearing the question, not that it would have made a difference in the answer. “I'm watching videos of Yunho, there's like a million new ones, and I’m saving links to send Mithra and Jay was bugging me about sending him an email because he’s a bitch and he knows that I don't have that much free time, but whatever. Fucking bitch.”
Kibum sighs and slides onto his knees on the floor, resting his chin on Heechul's thigh. He’d really like to play Starcraft and try to up some stats a little before turning in for the night. “Please?”
Heechul still pays him no mind. “Go 'way.” He mumbles, eyes scanning over website pages.
Rolling his eyes, Kibum leans over just so and mouths, warm and wet, onto Heechul's crotch. “Please?”
Heechul swats him in the head with the hand not commandeering the mouse. “You’re so annoying.”
Kibum hums lightly and understands Heechul-speak enough from over the years to pick up that there is no objection. He tugs lightly at the pants’ zipper with his teeth to test out the water and Heechul keeps clicking away on pictures and videos. Good signs. He keeps going, fingers cautious as he gives Heechul a tentative stroke, takes him out his underwear, grips the base confidently. Heechul doesn’t even look down.
Kibum licks his lips, studies Heechul’s cock for a second, then gets to work.
“Oh my god.” Hyukjae says, covering his eyes with his hands after flailing about for a bit, “Oh oh oh my god.”
“Stop being such a baby.” Heechul snaps, opening another tab in his browser to start writing that email to Jay. Kibum silently agrees and pulls back, wiping his lips off with the back of his hand. Hyukjae peeks, then shrieks and flails some more.
“Oh my god!” He shouts, pointing and flailing and staring and freaking out, “HEECHUL ERECTION, HOMAIGAWD.”
“Hey,” Kibum peers up at the email in progress and frowns, “take that line out, Jay doesn’t need to know that I’m giving you head as you type this and that Hyukjae is just being a huge pain.”
“But he is and you are.” Heechul whines and shoots Hyukjae a dirty glare as he whines theatrically about being scarred for life and other nonsense into his hands, “Okay, fucking shut up now, geez, you big baby.”
Hyukjae looks up to reciprocate the glare and get his own word in, but only ends up shrieking some more as Kibum chooses this moment to finish Heechul off and Heechul cusses and hunches over, fingers tangled in Kibum’s hair and hips thrusting himself up and deeper into Kibum’s mouth.
“OH MY GOD.” Hyukjae laments as Heechul regains composure and pats Kibum on the head.
“Mmm, you can have the computer now,” Heechul says cheerfully, tucking himself back in, zipping his pants up, jumping out of the chair, and punching Hyukjae in the stomach as he passes by, “I’m off to bed.”
Kibum smiles to himself, takes Heechul’s seat, and logs on.
**(and girl!eunhyuk)
Eunhyuk can’t help but be intrigued - it’s not everyday you get a vagina of your own and Eunhyuk has watched porn, knows what those mysterious things are capable of but can’t imagine what it must feel or look like all up close and personal and…
He locks the bathroom door and crouches on the carpet, skirt bunched up past his thighs and new panties down around his knees. He peers, nervous, between his legs and can’t see much detail past dark pubic hair, just a general shape. So Eunhyuk reaches a tentative finger into the unknown and flinches as his nail bumps-and-digs into something fleshy.
He blushes with the realization that oh, he missed the opening, is embarrassed that he missed the entrance of what is basically only consisting of a hole, and then is somewhat relieved because he’s heard that the inside is super sensitive and what if he scratches himself? Should he cut his nails first before doing this?
Eunhyuk sighs to quell the worry and draws his hands away and up against his chest, timid, and tries a different approach by rubbing his legs together. It really gets him nothing, just awkward shifting and the friction of thigh against thigh.
Girls are built so weird, he thinks to himself, and instead tries pressing himself against a cupped hand. There’s contact and warmth and the faintest hint of a throb, so he attempts rubbing - only to stop after three seconds with a gasp. It feels…odd, in a warm, fuzzy, in between the legs sort of way. Like a backwards orgasm or - or - he tries again to figure it out.
It’s tingly, he thinks urgently a minute later, and wet and vaguely icky. He jolts (and hits his head against the cabinet - he’s switched to the laying on his stomach as so to be able to press down into his hand while rubbing) when there’s some sort of, of twitch pulse thing going on down there, almost like an internal need to, to pee oh my god, he’s thinking frantically, except it’s not quite the same and it’s - it’s a rapid fire shudder of some sort from the inside out and he’s hot and feels all woozy and bubbly in his stomach.
When his hand comes up damp after the spasm is over, he wonders if that’s an orgasm. There’s sort of a sense of finality with it, like he could stop there if he needed to, that tells him that it is; but there’s also the faint ache he feels that urges for more and Eunhyuk thinks that it’s really unfair that girls can come like this and not feel the least bit tired or disoriented.
***
suprisingly, and you wouldn’t be able to tell if I didn’t say it, this started as ryeowook death!fic (I HAVE A FETISH, THE END.) but it got offtrack and I totally reworked it. this is also a side effect from smtown in shanghai because it’s sexy.
There’s karaoke and drinks - all nonalcoholic, much to Heechul’s displeasure, because SHINee is here too and the managers don’t even want to risk it - and everyone’s having a good time.
“Unni!” Sunday shrieks, clinging to Heechul and grinning. “Unni!” the rest of The Grace echo, grappling onto whatever remaining limbs are free. “My unni!” Boa protests, curling up into Heechul’s lap.
“Where the hell did you find alcohol, give me some.” Heechul demands, convinced there’s no way that they are sober and acting like this, or maybe he’s being nice and giving them the benefit of the doubt.
“My love will go onnnnn.” Junsu croons into the microphone, abnormally high and giggling ever other syllable. Yoochun isn’t even singing the words, “Come back,” he murmurs into the mike dramatically, “Come back!”
“Sing it right!” Yunho instructs, “this is a heartfelt song and you’re ruining it!”
“No one thinks you’re threatening,” Changmin informs him, “especially not with your Donghae-hat.” Donghae beams from his place draped mostly over Yunho’s head.
“And so,” Tiffany concludes to Jaejoong who is playing a hand game with Hankyung and not really listening to her, “I’m pretty sure you guys are the reasons my anti fan count has, like, tripled. Like no, really, it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s because you’re ‘the bitchy one’,” Taeyeon says sagely, sipping on apple juice. “What?” she asks when Kangin stops massaging Eeteuk’s calves and gives her a look, “Nothing in my contract said I had to be nice to my members, don’t judge me. I’m the leader, I can do what I want, I’m telling her what the antis think of her for her own good.”
“No,” Eeteuk insists, feet wriggling in Kangin’s lap, “No, that’s not how it works, I think.”
“You just got a different contract,” Sooyoung and Sungmin tell him at the same time and Sunny squeals and tells them that they are so cute and it’s soooo not fair.
“My feelings are hurt.” Tiffany whines and Yoona feeds her little pieces of chicken to make her feel better. Hyoyeon steals the plate, Jessica laughs at Tiffany’s pout, Seohyun blinks and tilts her head in a way that earns her excessive cheek pinching from Sunny who is squealing about cuteness again, and Yuri yawns and takes the plate from Hyoyeon, eating some chicken herself, so it doesn’t make the situation any better.
“I. Um.” Taemin squeaks and Shindong body slams him into the wall. “HYUNG LOVES YOU.” Shindong assures him and Jonghyun and Key nod vigorously and pick Taemin off the floor to hug him. “YOUR HYUNGS LOVE YOU.” they chorus. Onew smiles at this, “It - ”
“IT’S THE ONEW CONDITION.” Key and Jonghyun shout before he has a chance to finish and Shindong laughs and body slams Minho into a chair.
“No Kyuhyun,” Siwon says, “No you can’t sing that song, it’s incredibly - the lyrics aren’t - no - ”
Kyuhyun stares at him for a bit, before taking a deep breath and trying very hard to look cute. “Please?”
Zhou Mi stares unabashedly at Kyuhyun, opens his arms and approaches very slowly. “Kui Xian. Come here. Come here right now.”
“Lai lai!” Kyuhyun says happily, snuggling into Zhou Mi’s chest and smirking darkly in Siwon’s direction, “Now overpower Siwon and make him let me sing this explicit song about long lost love and revenge.”
“YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS.” Eunhyuk says, looking expectantly at Henry. “YES?”
Henry blinks, caught off guard. “You, uh, thanks. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”
Eunhyuk shakes his head, “No.”
Kibum rolls his eyes at Henry’s confusion. “No?” Henry parrots back. Eunhyuk shakes his head even more and deflates a bit.
“Repeat it back to him.” Kibum advises in fobby English when it becomes a little more obvious that Henry’s not picking up on this game.
“Oh.” Henry says, “Oh yeah, you are so gorgeous too?” Eunhyuk smiles very very wide, all pleased with himself, his pink gums showing.
“I love yooooou.” Yehsung screeches into his microphone, glass of fruit punch in one hand and Ryeowook’s hip in the other. “I really dooooo.”
“Those aren’t the words.” Ryeowook says, frowning and staring intently at the karaoke screen. “No, those really aren’t the words hyung, this line says ‘I wanna bend you over and shove - ’ oh my god.”
Somewhere in the background, Kyuhyun cackles.
***
iiiiii~ like to drabble pointlessly. don’t judge me.
He loves her he loves her he loves her.
“gotta go, soon, now, yeah.” she says, the ‘s’ whistling and mispronounced (not pronounced) through the gap of her front teeth - not there, fallen out, the new ones are growing in still, he thought he’d get the chance to keep teasing her with tongue twisters and apple eating.
Jaejoong laughs, deceitful and beautiful, and takes her hand. “Chun, we’ll be back.”
Yoochun’s fingers creep over the ivory and he struggles for a smile. “Okay.” Okay, he knows it’s a lie.
He loves her he loves her he loves her (she’s a little extension of Jaejoong, of course he loves her).
***
there was going to be plot and somehow changmin was going to woo jaejoong in less than two weeks or something and pornostar sex, there was going to be some. except. yeah.
Changmin isn’t really the kind of person who goes out of his way to watch porn, really. He’s a dedicated college student and, just, well, if he stumbles upon those sorts of sites or Yoochun takes it upon himself to send worthwhile videos it’s not like he’s going to not look at it. And he only regularly checks up on a couple of actors that he really likes.
There’s this one with the stage name ‘Youngwoong’ and he’s the prettiest little thing Changmin’s ever seen, all lithe and sleek muscle and wide eyed innocence - even when he’s bouncing on someone’s cock and moaning like there’s no tomorrow.
Sure, the site that Youngwoong works under is subscription only and fifteen dollars from Changmin’s paycheck go towards downloading weekly video updates, but it’s worth it to see Youngwoong all hot and bothered, fisting the bedsheets as some other nameless actor licks fervently at his asshole.
-
Changmin’s typing up an essay for government, downloading Youngwoong’s latest video in the background, when Yunho stops by his dorm.
“I need pizza money, I’m sorry.” Yunho says, tugging at Changmin’s sleeve as he slips off his shoes.
“Bum.” Changmin counters, “Don’t you have a job too?”
“Yeah…” Yunho drawls, still holding on to Changmin’s arm and helping himself to riffling through Changmin’s drawers for loose cash, “But I also have a little sister who has aspirations?”
Changmin grunts, not impressed, and yanks his arm away. “And I have two little sisters, are you implying that they don’t aspire as much as yours does?”
Yunho shrugs and turns around, smart comment on the tip of his tongue before he pauses and tilts his head. “…Um.”
Changmin blinks and it takes half a second to figure out what’s happened. He whirls around, hand reaching for the mouse before he even sees Youngwoong writhing on the screen with a dildo between his legs.
There’s a bit of silence. “You have a porn addiction.” Yunho informs him helpfully.
“Do not.”
-
Changmin is in Thailand for two weeks on a class trip and it just so happens that on day two, he sees someone who looks incredibly like Youngwoong walking down the street.
“Youngwoong?” he calls out, not at all meaning to, because, god, it surely can’t be him and even it is that wouldn’t be anything but awkward.
The man turns around before catching himself and turning half back around, groaning, “Ugh, not again. Look, I won’t have sex with you just because you came and tracked me down.”
Changmin is taken aback. “Uh no! No no no, that’s not what I want, oh my god, I’m sorry.”
Youngwoong is a whole lot different in person, manlier, muscles more defined in the bright sun, and definitely way less deer like and innocent. “Well okay, glad we cleared that up fast enough, so fuck off stalker.”
Er okay, not what Changmin would expect out of someone who all he’s ever heard from is uhhhn harder deeper faster, omo, ahhhn in smoky falsetto. “I. Um, sorry, I’m just on a class trip and I thought - ”
Youngwoong rolls his eyes and puts a pair of designer sunglasses on, “I have a strict look but no touch policy for customers. Now go on, little school boy, go on back to your little field trip, we’re done here.”
***
from drink and idleness; shichul, britisharmyandindiancolony methodslol!verse. do not ask me how siwon is from england and heechul from india in this story, i didn’t feel an overbearing need to explain away the presence of korean names in these places in the 1895 to 1902 timeframe, you see. also, i thought of raiknii the whole time i wrote this. :/
Siwon is not yet a sergeant and that’s kind of the problem.
“Mmm, right there, yeah.” Heechul murmurs, legs curling around Siwon’s torso and hair starkly black against the white sheets. The dry warm breeze outside the window smells a little like spice and elephant dung, but maybe that’s Siwon’s imagination.
He thinks about his wife back at home, how she’ll soon be all wide hips and swollen belly full of their first child, about how he swore up and down he’d move up ranks quickly enough to bring her here to live with him, and a month or two ago it became more about having their child be born in Britain’s pride and joy ‘jewel in the crown’ colony than having each other’s company again.
But that’s not what’s happening, he’s been here for what’s going on a year, and then there’s the factor of Heechul.
-
Heechul is controversial, is sacrilegious and condescending and long nails raking across Siwon’s back and sleek legs to stare at as he bends over to draw Siwon’s bathwater.
“You have a letter from England,” Heechul tells him nonchalantly as he sneakily eats strips of pork from Siwon’s plate. Siwon could tell the sepoys or the other servants and get Heechul in a lot of trouble, but Heechul barely follows the strict caste system as is anyway, why should he follow his strict religion? “Also, I saw officer Ainsworth’s wife with her army of servants at the market the other day. She was incredibly rude to me, I’ll have you know. Said you need to get some control over your Indians and make sure we’re not so loud playing and chatting when you leave to play your English sports with the other enlisted men, so that we don’t disrupt her naptime with our noise.”
Siwon turns the page of his newspaper and can see the servant by the wall that is fanning him glance warily at Heechul, who is sly and will never get caught eating pig or cow by anyone other than Siwon and is now waving the letter about.
“Really,” Siwon says, “And why are you telling me this?”
“I want you to beat her up.” Heechul replies, completely serious. “Or import your wife here already instead of going there and visiting her on important holidays and let them duke it out, the proper British wife style. Lord knows I wouldn’t know how to declare warfare on her like that.”
“Nor are you supposed to.” Siwon hums out, and keeps reading his paper as Heechul flings the letter down on the kitchen table. There’s a bit of silence as Heechul behaves and wipes the counter tops off and the cook will be happy for once that Heechul did his job when he comes in to make lunch.
“So, your wife’s pregnant right? Got busy during the last visit home? When is she coming?”
“Heechul, stop opening my mail and then resealing it. At least have the courtesy of leaving it open and letting me know my privacy has been violated.”
Heechul sighs slinks his way behind Siwon, resting his chin on Siwon’s head, his too long hair tickling Siwon’s neck. The fanning servant’s gasp-fading-fast-to-sigh is almost inaudible; he’s getting better at masking his shock at their interaction.
“Mm.” Heechul responds, in that tone, and Siwon blames the humidity and Heechul’s insistence at not wearing his turban (ever) for his constant libido.
One of these days, Siwon might press Heechul onto the table and they’ll have sex right there, in front of the open french windows, with the sounds of groans and creaking table woodwork echoing into the neighbor’s house, really giving Mrs. Ainsworth something to complain about.
-
Heechul helps him dress up for a night out with the unit for drinks and fun, though it’s ridiculous because Heechul only wears his simple servant clothes that he easily slips on over his head, he doesn’t actually know how to do up a longue suit with its tie and waistcoat and all the buttons.
“Now, remember, you have a wife back in England, you better behave yourself accordingly.” Heechul warns, trying to put Siwon in the jacket before the waistcoat.
“I will - no Heechul - this goes on first, the buttons don’t - ”
It takes more time to get dressed like this, especially with them stopping every few seconds to kiss and get all hot and heavy before one of them remembers Siwon has somewhere to go, but Siwon doesn’t mind.
(it only occurs to him, as one of the officers whistles at the Indian girl bringing them their fourth round of drinks and another attempts to lift up her skirt, laughing when she shrieks and backs up, scandalized, that Heechul is stupid. how is he going to say ‘behave yourself accordingly’ because Siwon has a wife oceans away when he’s the mistress?)