big boy crying//

oh sehun / fire boy / dagger dead inside my head / everything you touch burns into nothings / vk

[vkjungs-blog]

raging — ft. sehun.

[vkjungs-blog]

HOW CAN he help? the question is a loaded one, one soojung is sure sehun hadn’t even thought over properly in the moment. not with the way his voice drawls thick with sleep, prompting a flutter of sympathy she snaps her jaws around. there was no need to feel bad – her appearance will, sooner, be a blessing for both of them.

“mm,”  the mutant hums, fingers lifting to sweep his fringe out of barely opened eyes, action entirely too absent ( entirely too fond ) to be considered friendly. oh, but she doesn’t care, doesn’t have much reason to fixate on anything else but oh sehun at this hour.

“can i stay here?” her free hand rests on his chest, reserved space for her keen ears and pretty demented head, patting lightly as her lips curve.

what she means is, can i reclaim my spot? what she means is, can i reclaim your heart?

soojung is sure of the hesitance bound to surface, observant enough of dear sehun to know what even the slightest twitch of his fingers meant. usually, they mark the falling of his resolve when it comes to her–touching her, holding her, oh sehun simply can’t resist it.

she knows this as her head lowers, nose brushing against his playfully as her lips press a kiss soft, a kiss tender, loving, even, against his cheek.

“i promise i’ll be good.”

[vksehun-blog]

even the supposed comforts of his own bed proves to be a plain infested of landmines for him (with her, isn’t it always?). his duvet, another supposed comfort of his is berated by the hostile desires of her form, to think that there was a chance for him to breathe through all the suffocating hot tension of the air. -- to think he had a chance to see past the steam into clarity. 

but here he is, square one, and looking into the mirage of her. 

can she stay here? is the question. the question the pyrokinetic cannot answer. he cannot answer when her hot skin burns him in the touch of her palm. this invasion of his space is nothing new to him and yet every time she has him on a hook, waiting for him to sink or swallow himself into ashes. has there ever been a way out with jung soojung? (it’s either drowning in her or burning for her.)

she rests herself on his chest. there she goes, privacy of course out the window, hearing the only organ of the human body that has no ability to lie to jung soojung. mouth dry, here we go again. 

“i-i-” (there is nothing he can say to sway her permanence of the beat to his chest, soojung can even hear the truth for herself, damned woman.) 

isn’t this the power of inclination and carnality? 

“w-well you’re already here aren’t you...” it quavers, his unease at the zero proximity stirs the temperatures the pyro is supposed to control. (at least it wasn’t a yes or no from his frail little soul.) -- and ahh yes, 

a kiss to the cheek. (cheeks aflame)

does she know that she its fireproof and he is not? 

perhaps it is the inducement of sleep and the cursed tender kiss of hers that has him speaking under the trance of some spell. “you... better play good.” even if it words craft boldly (for once), sehun (as always) delivers meekly. sehun should instead, concentrate on how to keep the pounding of his chest slowing and lying, after all, he isn’t fireproof at all. 

[vkjungs-blog]

raging — ft. sehun.

IT’S BEEN a while. she’ll admit it, a chunk of intrigue had died down as soon as she had oh sehun under her claws, at her mercy, his body for her to play with. but it isn’t as if she’s out to alienate him, if anything she’s just been busy. work has been busy and life has been busy and though she shared a room with oh sehun (and two others), soojung hardly had the time for much with oh sehun.

a pity, if anything, she’s quite fond of him.

but today was different, today, even after a night of work and returning home in the early hours of the day, soojung didn’t feel the slightest bit tired. if anything, she’s overly energized. so the hour hadn’t matter (really, she never cared), four in the morning, jung soojung climbs into fire boy’s bed–clothed, for once.

“sehun.” she whispers, body lined up on top as her cheek finds his, nuzzling absently.

“oppa, wake up.” 

[vksehun-blog]

solitude from the most impeccably dangerous of the lot is something that is of a virtue, to him the airy ease of breathing is much preferred than the hot , suffocating tension around his body and his throat for her. pyrokinetics aren’t kind to falling victim to their own forces, do they? it is weakness in it’s unkind form. luckily for jung soojung, she offers just that. 

offers him temperatures that even he has no control over. 

solitude, in his sleep, doesn’t not call for her but he falls in the same pattern over and over again with her. (it’s as if his body calls subconsciously, in his most intimate of times). 

soojung has always had the ability to startle him from a slumber (see: the waking of a slumber to his now his ever-pounding heart). he wakes to once again, an ever-pounding heart and the pretty voice belonging to the very prettiest, the very unattainable. 

he shifts, “ -- soojung?” the comforts and the warmth of his bed cease to exist, nothing here is ever hostile unless it’s with jung soojung. 

and the closer the proximity it is for him, the more fire boy burns. 

eyes flutter open, sehun hidden under his duvet. “can i help you?” it comes out raspy and instinctive for her at the hour of four in the morning. 

[vksehun-blog]

lady_luck.mp3//

[vkjungs-blog]

ATONEMENT. she supposes she, too, will have to attempt some form of that eventually ( her sins are miles long, immoral in every press of tender against firm and flicker of naught tongue ). soojung is truly wretched, in this sense, truly lonely, truly pitiful, but none of which that she’ll ever EVER tell. none of which she’ll ever show. pity wasn’t sexy, pity won’t keep men, won’t keep company, warmth, the beating heart she craves.

the proof she craves that she, too, was alive.

right now, though she doesn’t feel, she sees it in the red of sehun’s cheeks, the tremble of his lower lip, tightening of his jaw. soojung sees all too well how her presence affects him, how easily it is for him to wind him up. oh, but she’s not tease, she will let him loose after.

on her terms.

“ i’m glad, “ she speaks, allowing all earlier conversation to fall in order to fixate on what she was really interested in. the very real response of oh sehun that has a bit of her tremble in excitement. pleased, she was, but it didn’t suffice – didn’t sate the very need coiled around her spine; slowly she makes a move, fingers lifting to card through dark locks as her hips sway from side to side, steadily approaching his bed in her full on mostly naked glory. “ but what makes you think i’m joking? “ 

bare, she stands before him, a woman covered by nearly nothing save lace skivvies and a smile that’ll charm the devil. bare, she steps close to press her knees against his, pushing playfully and nudging to spread them apart. senses alert, sehun has always been hot, but she feels his warmth even more with this, the rise of his beating heart and the closing of distance between them.

soojung just couldn’t help herself.

languidly, she lowers herself to his eye level, resting her arm over his shoulder as she leans in, gaze fixed on his. “ is it because i called you lewd? “ to her credit, the question is posed innocently, void of any sort of teasing despite the state they’re in. jung soojung, ever so tempting and oh sehun, seemingly frozen. 

it was cute, if she’s honest, it only made her want to tease him MORE.  she wants to see MORE.

and so, she leans in, lips brushing over the curve of his ear, “ because i rather like lewd, oppa. “

she’d only wonder as to how far sehun would let her go.

or, rather, how far till he BREAKS.

[vksehun-blog]

pretty, pretty, too pretty, pretty soojung. even admitting it leave a tang on his tongue. the air is too hot, nothing is leaving the room -- all it is now is getting crowded with heat. the devils in his chest get a rise from him again, jung soojung in her lewd glory (though not fully unravelled) has him teetering on the cliff sides of his mind. 

the bottom being the pits of fire of his most primitive demons. 

jung soojung is the caricature of carnal want, the caricature of anything his biding devils want and the very fact can almost bring him to tears. his desires overflowing too heavily. 

there is something deep within him, aside from the want and sheer hunger for her is disdain. this is not the woman he should want, this is not the woman oh sehun had imagined himself suspended in the air and mouth hanging dry for her sweet nectar. 

(oh the thought of sweet nectar and jung soojung, the two things he knows nothing about.) 

she moves towards him, the devil of a woman moves towards him and as always his skin pricks. animalistic instincts shudder in a predator’s gaze, in their stalking effect. he can hear his heart in his ears, and soon enough, she’ll devour it (though he is sure she has once or twice before). 

he opens his mouth to protest, he fails to deliver. now it just gapes, as if shocked. his eyes refuse to pick up on the little garments she has. it’ll be always like this, eternally oh sehun mouth-watering for jung soojung, eyes chasing, mind pacing. eternally at war with his heart beating too hard. 

skin awfully tight, 

trousers too, in all the wrong places. 

the woman has the audacity to touch him! touch his arms, touch his knees in nothing at all. his eyes fly away, the tiling, a better focus than the wrath of jung soojung. “i--” (it’s always him, with the stuttering.) 

she doesn’t waste time, he doesn’t know if it angers or delights him but surely his biology, his sex against his trousers has it’s lewd ways. 

and the audacity! when she plops herself on him, against the prominence of his physical desire, he rides in shame, her on his lap. desire dripping from him. 

he is hasty his hands retract behind him on the mattress as she leans in, too close, too fucking close. (he can see everything, her pretty lips, her glimmering eyes, supple skin, how pretty jung soojung is.) 

(”because i rather like lewd, oppa.”) -- their proximities close they’re touching, all too much that sehun is afraid that resistance of the strongest sort cannot do. (how could he win against such an aphrodite?) there is nothing to seperate the two but the thin lace of jung soojung and sehun’s attire. 

this is now how it should be, yet fins fingers practically itch to fly to her waist and claim her lips. he lets out a breathe that he doesn’t know he’s been holding. 

the desire to cock his head back and moan is overwhelming. 

“d-d-don’t do this s-soojung.” he gulps, finally breaking from his mute spell of his lusty daze. “i will not d-do this. y-you will not do--” the feeling of her body against him in the core of all sin and desire in it’s purest form. 

he bites back a moan. “this.” but he still moans, his body quivering under her as he shuts his eyes. 

just release, oh sehun. 

[discvrmusic]

Visit Original Link

[vksehun-blog]

verbatim//

@yixingvk

racks and racks of clothing along with yixing. the cold is biting at his bones, his marrow structure deteriorates. the pyrokinetic was prone to the winter, he wasn’t in the mood for browsing clothing, let alone with the biggest realist whose out to get him and his dreams. 

and sehun’s dreams are barely big enough to be crush and yet here he is, browsing, shopping with him.

sehun dislikes shopping, he doesn't know what to do, what to buy, he doesn’t enjoy things he doesn’t know. so he slumps and tears hangers off the racks and into his arms. of course he’s still bitter, his heart still carrying the weight of guilt. the weight of everyone’s lost physical parts of themselves weigh on him and it leaves a bitter taste to his tongue.

“have you ever thought, just maybe, if you weren’t a mutant,” god he hated saying the word aloud, it made him cringe, almost contorting his face. “life would be better, easier if anything.” and there he goes, letting a slimmer of himself out there to yixing, now all he can do is hold his breath to see if he takes it and throws it. 

[vknayeon-deactivated20190617]

( + so we destroyed everything. osh & iny

[vknayeon-deactivated20190617]

blames the cold for the rosiness of her cheeks and her breaths getting hitched up.

[vksehun-blog]

she’s breaking and repairing in his arms, he can’t have more of the honour than to even be in her presence, let alone to have her unravelling and wallowing in her pain. such a woman, (well any at this moment) shouldn’t be stooping so low to be in his arms. his arms, the pyrokinetic’s arms that were said to have started the terror of sunny peak. 

yet, she’s still there. very much solid in figure. very much alive and there in his arms, so very much real. and that’s crucial to him. he doesn’t need to delve into her thoughts to know how much nayeon’s heart is floating in an abyss of unbreakable melancholy. sehun can no longer play villain (he never was, but guilt says he is), he can no longer watch as his embers destroy and rage without a care. 

his hold tightens, determined. (and his muscles want to remember the feel of her against him.)

he wants to erase his guilt by erasing her hurt. he wants to erase his hurt by infusing her mind away from the burnt physical remains of her life. part of his own suffocating melancholy was over her. if he can hold her tight enough, she might be stuck back together, and if she’s all well and together than maybe he could be too! (in theory, in his idiotic, his too hopeful theory). 

sehun didn’t leave anything, and that is unfair to everyone else. oh sehun doesn’t even feel loss at the burning siege of sunny peak! oh sehun ruined everyone else and left him to spare! --and if it’s going to be like that

he’ll have to be cleaning up his mess. 

and he’s so fucking sick of mess, there’s just so fucking much of it and he only wants to settle and let a smile on his face without aching over some oncoming pain. 

the thought only makes his hold on her tighter, nayeon’s fingers dance lightly around his knuckles and wants nothing more than her strength in his comfort. he just wants, wants, wants. he wants to hold her more till they’re both alright, and he wouldn’t even mind it taking a long time. 

(’i’m perfectly fine. you on the other hand look drenched. and that’s never a good thing.’) her hands on his face, he can only give her a half smile, lopsided and floppy as his heart thuds with immense joy. her touch reminds him of the ‘almost-lovers’ ideal and he can only shove the thought away. 

(’you didn’t get hurt anywhere right?’) she cares, she still has space in that scorched little heart for him and he doesn’t deserve it. not one bit, not at this moment. (’stay by my side okay?’) he only nods, her body against his frail one is enough for him to be okay and slip into her comfort. ‘almost-lovers’ sounds in his mind, a bitter smile on his lips. “i won’t go anywhere nayeon. not until you’re better too.” 

nayeon isn’t doing a bad job at warming up the fireboy too. they sit with their arms linked and sehun gives her this look, he beams at her with admiration. and if anyone passed by people would’ve thought ‘well finally they’ve gotten together’. (’better?’) “much better.”

“you’re so sweet to me nayeon. you don’t have to.” he says it so lowly so that no one else can hear. that it’s just for nayeon’s ears to hear, only her’s. 

[darshanasuresh]

in the softness of humanity’s neck, i find your laughter. suddenly, everything is okay again.

[untitled]

by

Darshana Suresh

(via

afterthelonely

)

[vksehun-blog]

i set myself on fire to keep you warm//

@vkjinah

the rooming deal wasn’t too bad (which is something sehun has been chanting like a mantra to himself since he got the key and was paired off with she who must not be named, they one and only im jinah). 

and it’s not very funny, not funny at all. 

they start off drowning each other in the deep, dark, waters of a radioactive pool of hell left back in sunny peak. then he’s having his (infection’s) way with her up against the walls of an abandoned hospital. -- this all must be a sick fucking joke he tells himself. sehun and jinah, they work well when they don’t have to work together. 

and yet, here he is, after the rather stressful and frivolous shopping rendezvous, chest tight with an awkward lump congesting his breathing. after the two of them kindly rekindled at the soulless echoes of the warehouse the ‘good’ terms they’ve been on (well, as good as the two of them get). his muscles weak from the rain and his bones aching from the rain, his fire almost put out. 

he’s left timid, and unprepared for what is to come with opening the door to his new room.  

“jinah, i’ve-i’ve arrived.” is the first thing he says when he (finally) has the guts to shove the key in and unlock what may be a hidden angry jinah, ticking away ready to burst at the very sight of sehun. “h-how’re you f-from today?” he asks, wary of jinah’s possible wrath. (as if he’s not consciously guilty enough after everythign he’s said, done, thought of her..) 

to think that they’d be flipping into a new chapter of this rancid toxicity they feed off each other. guess not.

[vknayeon-deactivated20190617]

( + so we destroyed everything. osh & iny

[vknayeon-deactivated20190617]

our, hers, baekhyuns. baekhyun. suddenly, the ease from just seconds ago is replaced with a hard swallow, eyes meeting his in a lust for information, “wait, what happened to the others in laxus? are they okay? is baek okay?”

[vksehun-blog]

his fires fuck everything up, he only eludes himself that it’s his doing, poor fireboy. 

there is that sense in the air, the kind of sense where people are desperately trying to grasp onto something before they get scorched one more time and go into ashes. they’re trying to piece back the imaginary idea of sunny peak and sehun’s guilt doesn’t lesson nor diminish from that. 

no, it stays as a permanent fixture to eat him inside and out. guilt does that. 

her smile though, although shaky, the burning embers of fires still haunting and shaking her to the core still bubbles proud in his chest. nayeon’s a lot stronger than he gives her credit for. his heart races and soars, he’s in a state of admiration and the flames that burn flicker in satisfaction at their contact, her sweet, sweet comforting embrace. 

(’i’m here now.’) (--some say they could’ve been something. and when nayeon says those things, in his arms and her pieces being glued back together by his hold he supposes in another life, or later down the road the idea of ‘almost-lovers’ would just be more...) 

she rests in his personal bubble, as if he was consoling her in intimate privacy just slowly helping her piece back the losses off the burning raid of the fires. he’s never seen nayeon like this, (surprisingly) kind, frail and shuddering in a shell of her physical self ( her soul perhaps left behind in the now, ashes of sunny peak). (’god, sehun, i’m really, really, so glad you’re alive’) 

her strength and will adds to his awe. sehun’s hands still fly to her cheek, he can’t help it. “i’m-i’m more glad that you’re alive.” 

because boy! would he not live down the guilt, wrongdoing of letting his fellow flames take such a rare ray of sunshine her,

(’my fireboy’) he doesn’t complain, when she’s in his arms and pushing all the right buttons sehun wouldn’t be surprised if his muscles begged to have her agains this chest. -- to hold her together, to set himself on fire for her warmth. nayeon tearing his guilt away and replacing it with a conundrum mush fusion of his warm insides and the rattling speed of his racing heart. she says ‘my’ and a fond ‘fireboy’ and sehun’s broken guilt is being glued unknowingly. 

(’others in laxus? are they okay? is baek okay?’) she’s, she’s, precious. the grip on her cheek tightens, unable to comprehend her selflessness. “t-they’re f-fine nayeon you n-need to take care of yourself.” he cups her cheek, not letting go. 

he won’t let go of good things, after the disaster he should know better. 

[yfxalexis-deactivated20160705]

cruel

“sehun, you’re okay, right?” he’s just far enough to hear her voice, quieter than a shout but louder than her normal speaking voice. maybe he won’t listen. must be the same thing going around to everyone, but what’s there to say? 

[vksehun-blog]

guilt sits in his stomach and doesn’t dare leave. it’s heavy, like he’s swallowed up some rock and it just weighs his body down. the sight of melancholic mourning soulless beings shuffling into the warehouse, the smell of burnt fabric and blood swirls in the room. the scent fusing with the hot, thick tension in the air. it disgusts him and his body has some sort of allergic reaction to it. 

it enough to suffocate him, along with the forceful weight of his guilt biting at his stomach. and it doesn’t help much when eyes burn into him, singe his skin and the back of his head set on fire by the burning stares. 

he supposes this is his form of redemption for not saving the remaining values from sunny peak. 

(’he’s fucking psycho’ ‘he’s been waiting to burn us down’ ‘guess he finally snapped’ ‘did someone break it to him about how pathetic he was?’) -- or redemption for the fire he theoretically started. and it drives him fucking mental, this guilty conscious that creeps out of no where, like how the fire raged and burn out of no where. 

like everyone he sees, satisfaction crosses over him and relief cools down his scorching guilt. (’sehun, you’re okay,’) he won’t admit it, but he does, he longed to hear a voice. he longed to hear it directed towards him instead of murmurs within the shadows of the warehouse.  

(’right?’) he looks towards the voice, a smile forced on his lips. however the act still makes his heart shudder with content. “of course i am jinah,” it comes out, like he’s barely breathing. the sight of jinah nearly causes the wash of relief to take him weak at the knees. the sight of jinah makes his heart practically prance with relief. 

he’s really needed a tangible confirmation that he’s just deluding himself with hoards of guilt. “you?”

[pandreos]

[vksehun-blog]

soojung grins. completely fucking grins. as always sehun never disappoints and as always, she never knows when to stop. "yeah?" she starts, lifting her hand toward him as her fingers curl, gaze inviting. "lend me a hand then?"

@vkjungs

her words, her voice in general makes his heart leap and prance. no, it shouldn’t be like this, soojung stop. the heat in his body (already relatively warmer than most) heating up his blood, wanting to boil his organs and render him weak. 

(’lend me a hand then?’) that’s what it feels like when she’s beckoning him like that. (he’s not a dog for her - but he urges himself to follow her wishes.) the act of admitting to himself however, he’d rather not. he’d really rather not. but it starts back up, just like that, unexpectedly. it’s unwanted. an unwanted quickening pace in his heart, and red branding his cheeks. 

he can’t help himself. 

legs with a mind of their own he finds himself, duvet in hand, heart heavy yet flying freely and uncontrollably. and his body dragging his mind and heart over to her (as fucking always). “right.” -- sehun finds himself on her bed. hand holding hers. his heart fucking sings and jumps, his mind is blooming with reds and his body aches like hell for hers. sitting on her bed, a blush on his cheeks along with his terrible habit of looking towards the floor and a grip on her hand. “is this warm enough?” 

[vksehun-blog]

a fire fight//

[vkbaekhyun-deactivated20151206]

{ / he hears it first—like he does most things. a disturbance in the air, and his eyes snap open only a few seconds too soon, right before the extremely loud bang in one of the rooms next to his. tugs his earbuds out, sits up in sehun’s bed—he has no idea what’s happening, frozen in what seems like shock until he sees it all come alight in hues of red, orange, yellow, watches as it all goes up in flames outside. it’s the screams that have him disorientated even as he quickly takes the first bag he can find and shoves whatever he can fit into it, but he’s so god damn distracted by the panic and terror he hears coming from his classmates, his friends— }

{ / that kicks his ass into gear. where are his roommates? baekhyun has to make sure they’re out first, is half-way out of the door of the bedroom when part of the ceiling collapses—he jumps out of the way, his eyes wide, and it’s not until then that he realizes room #004 is on fucking fire already too, and he’s fucking stuck inside, and everyone outside is screaming too loudly for him to hear— ‘baekhyun’? }

{ / it’s sehun who emerges, like some god damn phoenix rising from the ashes. } sehun! watch out— { / it’s instinctive, the way he tries to pull sehun out of the sea of flames by his elbow, until he realizes— oh, right, of course. there’s a sense of relief there, and it temporarily makes him forget that even though sehun is fire resistant, he’s not— } fuck! {/ the flames lick at the entire right side of his arm, his knuckles, his fingers — he pulls it back immediately, but it hurts, stings like hell, fuck, fuck, fuck } holy shit.

[vksehun-blog]

( // his calf muscles burn with exertion. sehun’s forceful muscle strain to sprint towards his roommate like he’s chasing and grasping hope that’s slithering past this fingers. ) oh baek... ( // it leaves his lips with a frown. it leaves his chest heavy and heaving over baekhyun’s fragility. to think that, the very person he admires the most is quaking with fear over the explosions of red, orange, yellow hues -- now no longer the boy with the jokes and charisma sehun’s always yearned to be. ) 

( // he’s never seen such hope drain in his eyes like this. to really think for a moment there he idolised him for being so firm and draconian in comparison to him. and the thought pinches at his heart. ) baekhyun!-- ( // the tug at his elbow, an aggressive pull towards the other only heightens his survival instincts. ‘fuck!’ is what leaves baekhyun’s lips ) fucking hell. ( // he’s fireproof but not baekhyun. )

( // he watches his baekhyun jerk his arm towards him, teasing reds dancing over his skin and a betrayals churns in the deepest part of his stomach. it churns in disgust over the volatile flames he should be containing and yet-- ) give me your arm! ( // and yet he can’t quite keep anything in fucking control. ) baek! let me put it out. ( // sehun snatches his arm, no time for tiptoeing along the thin line of death. ( not his death, but the blood on his hands would belong to the very male who holds him together, what would become of him? ) ) come on! ( // desperation follows with swatting his hand over the flames that dare to blister baekhyun’s skin. sehun’s desperation leaving him brash and baekhyun into his chest. ) you are okay. ( //  he reassures half heartedly as he pulls him out of the room, the flames around them caving and cowering in, not allowing the escapees to leave without turning one into ash. )

[vknayeon-deactivated20190617]

( + so we destroyed everything. osh & iny

nayeon’s almost glad when she spots the silhouette of lanky legs in front of her, saving her from a sudden sense of melancholy bubbling up in her gut, looks up to find sehun staring down at her and smiles, half-heartedly. “hi.” she can’t really force herself to make up a better greeting, not right now,”you’re okay. i’m so relieved.” and it’s not a lie, not at all, but there’s just none of the usual bite to her words.

[vksehun-blog]

he’s resistant to all the suffering and burns his fellow mutants are winging in turmoil with. people are writhing, pain and groans of agony now common within the warehouse. he looks to his hands, he’s untouched by the flames, in face they engulf him and hug him like a long lost friend. the fires burn and lick outrageously to destroy and seize all the glory that sunny peak held and it irks him.

not in the way it ‘irks’ everyone else no. 

it ‘irks’ him in a way which guilt somehow finds its way under his skin. the terror in the other’s eyes and their system was something he could’ve contained -- or well, he could’ve done more to contribute towards to instead of selfishly grabbing baekhyun and scurrying off when he clearly could’ve gone back and savoured the remnants of the other mutant’s lives. the thought even holds his throat, tension and guilt hanging in there to cut off his breathing. 

he supposes thats some sort of redemption for not choking and inhaling the suffocating smokes of the fires.  

and gosh, does the guilt consume him. even the sounds of the fire cracking had sent a warm, wholly satisfaction to his ears and yet it had pierced baekhyun’s, his physicality left disoriented by uncontrollable burning flames, something that he should be responsible for. 

(and other mutants, they look at his with despise and murmurs of ‘i bet sehun did it, you know how much of a fucking repressed psycho he is.’ ‘looks fucking deceive huh.’) -- but he pretends not to hear, he doesn’t want the constriction at his throat to tighten and his lips to quiver in his internal conflict. 

-- did he do it? did he burn everyone and everything? 

his heart aches, a wave of melancholy hits but doesn’t wash away from his body. “nayeon.” it comes out shortly, his breathing already cutting him short of words. he only rushes to her, his hands flying to hold her cheeks, they’ve never been like this, not really. but the contact of her cheek against the palm of his hand is the reassurance he needed. 

the body heat he receives from nayeon is enough to let his heavy heart to rest for a brief moment. “of course i am id-idiot.” he doesn’t know what it is, his heart swells with happiness, maybe its the salvation of the only two people who is here for him is, physically, here for him. 

his muscles burning and shaking to pull her into his embrace. “i’m fireproof.” he does, his hands lightly push her and her dishevelled self into his chest. “i’m glad- glad you’re okay.” he just, 

he just needs to comfort her. because if anyone knows anything about how terribly uncontrollable, hateful fire can be, it’s sehun. 

[pandreos]

[vksehun-blog]

fake it till you make it//

[yfxalexis-deactivated20160705]

(hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all)

[vksehun-blog]

she’s fucking mental, jinah is fucking mental off the fucking radar. beyond fucking hope. all she does is whimper around for apologies and salvation for her life and yet here her mouth goes, blubbering and blathering like a dumb bitch. it makes his fires want to seize her body completely, but at least he can free his anger. 

he’s grateful that he finally has her pinned against the plaster walls, now that he can finally have her to himself, and only to himself. her attention, devotedly his.

(’you think i won’t fucking snap your neck the second i feel the burn? you think i’ve actually thought about letting you win?’) he has her up against the wall, and a smug ugliness creeps up on his lips, unafraid of her spewing acts of intimidation. 

a laugh sounds from deep within his chest, jinah is joking. the monster in him doesn’t see a single way she can escape him (alive), his chest bubbles with her, the sight of her, the scent of her, the image of her. he thrives on it. his high begs for her. sehun’s fires and the infection jinah is fucking off her mind to think that she’s getting away from him. not when his skin burns like mad and itchy for her contact like an addict. an addict for this evil she’s passed on. 

(but can you blame him? could you? not when the boy suppresses all that anger, loneliness, rejection? all the times people have walked over him like he’s a spec of dirt, could you blame him?) -- even when the thought passes his mind he only adds more tension in his joints and his muscles pulsing. his infection screaming to stop these games and let her fall into demise. 

but his monster wants her to suffer, long, slow, and excruciatingly. (but that is the only difference between the infection and monster.)

(’it’s self defense, you fucking moron. you think they’ll forgive you for this?’) he expects her to be better at this, throwing in harder jabs, stronger retaliations but she’s not doing a good job of it. or maybe she knows exactly whats she’s doing, “not if i can get to you quicker sweetie.” 

shame though, he quite liked having jinah in his arms. 

and yet she’s persistent on feeding his flames and anger and all he can see is red. (’you think your precious fucking soojung will ever want to touch you once she finds out what you’ve done?’) jaw tight. teeth grit. his tolerance is getting terribly low. 

terribly, terribly low. tut tut jinah, you should know better, surely. 

she knows better than to be pushing fucking buttons that that have warning signs all over. she’s a grown woman after all.

she should know better than to mention such personal affairs. his heart twinges at her words. “i didn’t know you had to stoop so fucking low,” he leans into her, their affectionate positions driving him off the edge (if he wasn’t already off the edge that is,) “to get me to twitch and quiver angrily like a little boy. but if you want it, you’ll have to try harder.” 

he’s not here to play nice. he’s close enough to be engulfing her in his flames as he holds her down by the neck and the wall. the image, rather stimulating. 

(’you think anyone will want to keep you around’) bad fucking move jinah. (’do you seriously think anyone likes anything about you beyond your fucking act?’) oh jinah, do you think the little angry boy high on sadistic rampage will take it lightly? 

not when he has her up agains the wall. and for him only. 

(’you’re a pathetic...’ ‘uncontrollable… sick..’ ‘weak… useless…’ ‘hopeless and naive little boy’) he doesn’t say a word, he just lets her idiocy out in the wind, but she’s smashing too many buttons, too many at one fucking time. 

and it hurts. 

“you sick bitch.” he doesn’t move, he’s still lightly burning her, teasing her skin with prickles and blisters of his heat. he doesn’t say anymore, or he can’t think of anything to say because, well-- 

she’s not lying and that infuriates him. 

her sweet dainty fingers at his throat, they’re really hitting it off. (’you think anyone will be bothered to keep you around if they can’t push you around anymore, sehun?’) “tsk.” and he’ll let it out, all at once, just you watch. “as if you’re fucking any fucking better. at least people wanted me around at some point in time, you?” he chuckles, it’s rather passive aggressive -- theres nothing funny about the situation. his carnal desire dissipates and what is left is just his pure wrath. the wrath he’s been dying, aching, begging, needing to get out. his eyes never leave hers. 

“well, no one wanted you at all.” because if she throws the burning truth around, one not singe her with one too? everyone is letting out their demons tonight after all, his flaming devil deceives assures. he’s trying to crack a sick smile but it comes out a jarring mess, sicker than the joker but it’s not make up that’s creating the image, 

it’s the real him.

(’i see you flinching every fucking day to suck up to your friends, hoping they might keep you around of even fuck you if they’re feeling generous—’) his smile widens. the hands that are on her grips her shoulders hard, trying to get her bones to crack under his pressure and skin to scald under his head. 

he pulls her body to him sweetly, like lovers sinning so, so sweetly. his hands on her shoulders and the love flushes and leaves him instantly. he bangs her against the wall, how kind of him. his eyes still, never leave hers. 

he makes sure her head hits first and then her back, she wants her to fuckign hurt, hurt and burn. 

(‘water can’t fucking put me out. unlike you, fireboy, i don’t shake because i’m scared.’)

“oh but, you will be shaking. if not begging, if not... well dead.” preferably. “just you fucking watch, when i kill you, who is going to miss this mess of a woman? do you have someone who’ll look for you when i leave you on this floor?”  every syllable, he’s peering in closer to her. his eyes never leaving hers. 

“what will you fucking do? i dare you to make the first move and see whose heart is still beating at the end.” oh yes, he’s lost it. spewing about gambling death round like a toy. but he’s going to take her down with him, he’s going to make her lose it.  

[vksehun-blog]

a fire fight//

@vkbaekhyun​

( // it starts up, just like that. unanticipated. ) what the fuck? ( // you can hear the crackle of licking flames against wood, it’s not like sehun is unfamiliar with the sound. no not at all, it’s a good friend to him. but within the laxus house, within the confines of his home is where it burns. ) shit. shit. ( // he curses under his breath, a thought races past his mind. this building will fucking collapse sehun. his brain hasn’t registered the danger but his brain did in fact acknowledge another living being within the walls of the laxus dorm.)

( // he lacks panic, but then again he’s fireproof, in a sense.) 

fuck, fuck ( // it comes out low, you could barely hear it if you tried. he’s running-- almost sprinting at how his calves internally burn. baekhyun was still in his room, he’s sure of it. and it makes his heart restless, beating at an unkind inhuman pace in fear.) baek! ( // he lets out once, a guttural shout into the blaze, a sheet of perspiration covers his forehead, the heat excruciating. the crackle louder.) baek! b-baekhyun! ( // he breaks back into a frenzy run, his eyes darting like a madman for his roommate. fuck, fuck, fuck-- his thoughts say. if he loses baekhyun he’ll go mental (if he hasn’t yet). )

( // when he sees baekhyun relief washes over for a very short moment and he’s flown to him. ) baekhyun! ( // he’s practically shouting, sehun is frazzled, the fires licking at him from the outside only trying to taunt him. and yet the only thing that bothers him is the question of his roommate’s life. ) are- are you okay?! ( // his words slobberish, a desperation in his voice. )