Running away from a nightmare, running towards freedom.

—excerpt from thevignette’s lovely fic, the sound of flight

“It actually takes Jongin a few moments to realize that there is no music, that Sehun is dancing on his own. And when he does, it doesn’t break the spell, doesn’t break the beauty in motion in front of his eyes because he doesn’t care.”╔ the song of the stars - teastallpanda

favourite fanfics 3/?: 
↳ forward motion; sehun/jongin; nc-17

“You’re cute,” he had said, pushing his fingers into his bottom lip and searching Jongin’s face for something — he wasn’t sure what — but before he could say, you are too, Sehun’s fingers had slipped down from his lip into the first loop of his jeans, pulling their hips closer until they were flush against each other, zipper to zipper. He had felt the blush working its way up his neck, heat spreading through his body, so that when Sehun had moved forward again, catching his top lip between his teeth and pulling lightly, he thought his skin would ignite right there in the middle of the bar.

And Jongin didn’t do this, not really. Didn’t meet random men at bars and take them home, didn’t let someone he’d only just met slip his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, the tip of each of his fingers pressing lightly, hotly, through the fabric covering his ass. Even so he had been the one to pose the question, wanna get out of here?

The gravel scuffs the greying material of his shoes. Lazily, he stares up at the moon through the thick haze of smog and the tall buildings that loom over him. Empty skyscrapers that are shells of what they used to be. There is blood on his knuckles and he wipes it off on his heavy grey hoodie. He pulls the facemask covering his face down to spit the remnants of his fight onto the ground. He clutches the paper bag of cans to his chest, spoils from his victory.

It’s not ideal.

This world is as far from ideal as can be. {planetary suicide ♔ sdelic}

Title: One, Two, My Heart

taozia:

_{sharps and naturals - jongin/sehun}

_{This is Jongin’s favourite piece and Sehun knows. He sees Jongin on the keys – his happy days on the whites and sad days on the blacks – and he skims over both of them carefully, delicately….Jongin imagines lying down on a soft bed, letting Sehun flutter fingertips over his naked skin… I want to play you,” Sehun breathes and Jongin doesn’t try to avoid the low groan that falls from his lips.}

sharps and naturals;
↳ sehun/jongin; nc-17

“I want to play you,” Sehun breathes and Jongin doesn’t try to avoid the low groan that falls from his lips.

Jongin bites his lower lip nervously and—Sehun thinks—with a hint of playfulness.

“Then play me.”