❤︎— Paper Rings. (l.heeseung)

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Breathe

hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.

thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻

Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?

Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.

The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.

He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.

See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.

“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.

Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.

Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.

“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.

“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.

His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.

There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.

And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.

“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”

“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.

“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”

Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.

it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.

“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”

“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.

“The photographer.”

“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.

“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.

“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.

“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?

With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.

“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.

Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.

“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.

“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.

“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.

“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.

Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.

Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.

“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.

“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.

“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”

Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”

“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.

“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.

“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.

“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.

Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.

Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.

“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.

“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”

His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.

“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.

“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.

And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.

“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.

Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.

And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.

“Fuck," he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”

“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”

“You have no idea what you do to me, don’t you?”

“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.

His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary if it gives you Hyunjin in the end.

“Oh, I will.”

nah, man i */sobs to my hugging pillow

kiss, kiss, kiss. — kim sunoo 김선우

masterlist ; warnings none genre fluff

getting ready to bed with your boyfriend, sunoo.

“whoa, today was quite a day,” sunoo brushed his hair back with his hand. moving away his bangs as he put a headband on. he glanced at you in the mirror, a smile quietly forming on his lips as he watched you wearing your own headband, “how was your day?”

“i'm beat,” you put just the right amount of toothpaste on your brush. your eyes caught sunoo's in the mirror, “it was fun, a little absurd, but fun.”

his smile grew bigger as he watched you brush your teeth, “oh, really? tell me about it!” sunoo picked up his own toothbrush and started brushing his own.

you took your time to brush your teeth while sunoo patiently waiting for your answer with a smile on his face, “i accidentally met my old friends on the way home,” you said after you spit out your toothpaste. you wiped your mouth and excitedly continued, “apparently one of them moved not so far from here, and they asked me to come to have a housewarming party with them. i'm not even that close with them, it was really awkward and a soul-sucking moment. gosh, it was totally t—”

out of the blue, sunoo abruptly kissed your cheek. leaving a tiny toothpaste foam on it. he was smiling from ear to ear.

you gasped, “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” you touched your cheek, jokingly annoyed by the kiss. though, it's actually woke up a lot of butterflies in your stomach.

sunoo laughed thrilled at your reaction. he washed his mouth and his toothbrush before putting it on the glass next to yours, “oh my god, you're so cute.”

“excuse me?” you asked as if you were offended by his words but you couldn't hide the redness on your cheeks and ears.

sunoo obviously noticed your flustered face. he was grinning as his soft hands went to cup your face, “i said you're cute,” he giggled before giving a peck on your lips, you could smell the mint from toothpaste he used before, “and you're so pretty,” he left another peck on your lips, “and i love you soooo much,” sunoo put his lips on yours once again. but this time it lasts a little bit longer.

you didn't know how to react, so you just stood there totally giving in to his touch as he pampered you with kisses. maybe it's by the rule for sunoo to kiss you at least three times before going to bed.

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❣︎ ⎯⎯ your lips pressed deeply on to mine .

PAIRING ! park sunghoon x reader // GENRE ! fluff, slight angst, slight domestic!au // WC. ! 0.4k // WARNING(S) ! contains ,,,, some making out ,,, sjddjdj

PROMPT(S) ! 3. laying their hand on the other’s leg ;; 17. looking in each other’s eyes ;; 23. brushing strands of hair away ;; 28. pressing their foreheads together // requested by two lovely anons <3 // 2k followers event

A/N. ! before proceeding, let’s all just take a quick but deep breath tgt first ,,,,,, *inhales unsteadily* ok go read now :)))))

“hoon, why would you say that?!” you said loudly, eyes staring disagreeingly into your boyfriend’s sad ones.

“i told you; i don’t feel like i’m good enough,” he answered.

“how could you think that?” you asked, tone full of sadness.

he looked down to the floor, body hunched as he shrugged.

you rested your hands on his leg, taking a deep breath in and staring meaningfully into his eyes, even if his weren’t looking at you, “you have a huge role, hoon. without you, enhypen wouldn’t be enhypen. they need you. you’re not just talented at your job, but you’re also a friend—no, a brother. i, and millions of others, have so much love and admiration for you. you inspire people just by being you, and you never fail to put smiles on our faces and warm our hearts. hoon, you’re perfect, and i won’t stop telling you that—ever.”

it wasn’t until after you finished speaking, a brief silence filling the room, before sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to yours.

no words needed to be exchanged—only actions—as sunghoon dove in, immediately pressing his lips tenderly onto yours in a loving kiss. it was filled with a palette of feelings: sadness, love, belonging, gratitude, warmth…

his lips moved with yours in perfect harmony, only growing deeper as each second passed.

but eventually, you both pulled away, breaths slightly heavier than just moments before.

your eyes were locked onto one another’s, and sunghoon lifted one hand up before brushing strands of hair away from the front of your face. and after doing so, he pressed his forehead against yours, immediately placing his lips back onto yours, unable to hold back.

you melted under his touch, further than you already had, and your hands gripped the back of his neck, bringing him even closer.

after a few moments, he pulled away just slightly, foreheads pressed against one another and lips just centimetres apart.

his eyes were looking down, and you could tell he wasn’t finished yet.

“i- i don’t even know what i wanna say,” he started, voice slightly raspy and barely above a whisper. “i’m just falling deeper in love with you by the second. thanks for affirming me and helping me build back my confidence.”

a smile rose to your lips as you brought your hands to his cheeks, and as a response to his statement, you leaned back in, connecting your lips once more in a series of soft, intimate, tender kisses.

A/N. how am i supposed to go back to calling myself a jake stan after writing this 😀 guess i’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight 🥰🥰 anyways, hope you enjoyed <33

2K EVENT MASTERLIST.

TAGLIST FORM.

This is Not The End - Hee (이희승)

You fall sick right before a big trip with your friends, and your boyfriend tries to comfort you ꒰ wc: 1.0k꒱

[pairing] bf! heeseung x fem! reader [genre] established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort ff [warnings] none!

your bookshelf 📓✧˖°.

૪ requested! by a lovely anon

With a heavy sigh, you disconnected from the FaceTime call with your friends, reluctantly disconnecting from the lively atmosphere on the other side. While a part of you was genuinely glad they were having a great time, an undercurrent of disappointment coursed through your veins, aching to be a part of those cherished moments. 

The past week undoubtedly marked the worst and most challenging days of your life. You and your friends had anticipated this planned trip for months now, eagerly counting down the days until its long-awaited arrival. You guys were all excited to have one last adventure together that would mark the end of your highschool careers. And, as fate would have it, lucky old you broke down with a fever just a day before the designated date. To compound your misery, what truly weighed on your heart was the fact that your boyfriend had insisted on staying behind and taking care of you. Heeseung was looking forward to this trip as much as you did, maybe even more. It was the last time everyone would be together again before going off on their separate paths for college. But despite your protests, Heeseung stayed behind with you, together waving out the window at your friends who came to bid goodbye. 

For the past few days, Heeseung never left your side, always checking up on you as you lay in bed like a sack of potatoes. 

You were lost in your thoughts, looking at pictures that your friends had sent you when you heard a soft knock outside your bedroom. Hastily, you shut off your phone, shoving it under your pillow as you pretend to be asleep. You hear soft footsteps getting closer before stopping before your bedside. 

“Princess,” your boyfriend’s gentle voice rings out, breaking the silence, “It’s time to drink your medication.” 

Clutching the blanket tighter around your body, you turn to the other side, avoiding direct eye contact with Heeseung. “Just put it there,” you mumble. You hear him let out a sigh before setting down the tray on your nightstand. Heeseung leans forward, his hand gliding tenderly across your forehead. You relax into his touch, finding comfort in his extremely cool temperature. 

“Princess, you’re still burning up. I’m not leaving before you drink this.” His voice is stern. You don’t answer. Instead, you close your eyes, a silent gesture concealing the welling tears that threaten to escape, betraying the emotional turmoil within. 

You turn around slowly, small hands reaching out to tug on the fabric of Heeseung’s sleeves. Heeseung’s eyes soften at the sight of your pained expression and the slight pout adorning your lips. He’s quick to kneel down to your eye level, head gently laying on his folded arms as they rest upon your bed. “Does it hurt?” 

Shaking your head no, you draw up your blanket, concealing your face beneath its comforting embrace. After a moment of silence, a choked sob escapes from your lips, carrying the weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry,” you manage to utter, your voice laced with guilt and vulnerability. 

Silence. 

With a tinge of worry, your head cautiously peeks out, wondering if Heeseung might be genuinely upset. To your surprise, you find him struggling to contain a laugh, his eyes crinkling with amusement. You frown at his reaction, sitting up, “Heeseung, I’m serious. It’s my fault that you weren’t able to spend the last trip with your childhood friends.” After letting out the truth, all your emotions spilled out of you. Your lips quiver, tears welling up in your eyes, as Heeseung's expression shifts to one of deep concern. Without hesitation, he rushes to your side, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“Princess, I’ve already told you,” he reassures you, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t care. I willingly stayed back. None of this is your fault.”

“But, if I hadn’t gotten sick,” you cry out, tears blurring your vision, “we would’ve all been having fun together, sharing laughter and tears for the last time.” Your anguish tugs at Heeseung’s heart, breaking it a little at your crying state. Seeing you sick and yearning for the company of your friends hurts him more than missing out on the trip ever could. He would trade anything to bring you comfort and happiness at that moment. He tenderly presses his forehead against yours. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs softly. “Your illness is already painful enough for me, please don’t be upset over this. The trip isn’t going to be the last time we can be together. We can always reunite during college. The boys all promised that they would come back during breaks too. We can still create new memories together, just like we always have.”

You sniff softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “Hee, I’m going to miss them so much.” 

“I know, princess. It’s gonna be hard at first, but no matter what we’ll always find our way back to you.” He leans in, pressing a tender kiss on your nose, a gentle reminder of his love for you. He wipes your tears away, “Now, let’s drink your medicine,” he suggests, his voice gentle yet determined. “Afterwards, I’ll microwave us some popcorn, and we can snuggle up together to watch a movie. How does that sound, okay?” He smiles warmly, aiming to bring a smile to your face.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you respond, “Hee, I’m sick. Popcorn will only make it worse.”

Heeseung chuckles, his laughter filling the air. “Oops, my bad,” he admits, a playful glint in his eyes. “In that case, I’ll make us some comforting tea and you can pick the movie.” 

A slight pout forms on your lips, and tears of happiness well up in your eyes as you whisper, “I love you, Hee.”

Heeseung’s tender smile deepens, “I love you too, princess. And I promise, we’re all going to be okay.”

His words embrace you like a warm blanket, enveloping you in a sense of security and love that reassures you that, with him by your side, you can overcome anything.

౨ৎ

perma tag list! open (send an ask to be added ^^)

a/n: thank u for reading to the end! I wrote this while at work so it’s not proofread or anything T T let’s hope there r no mistakes 😓 but hopefully this can comfort u when ur feeling sick or down! as always reblogs, comments, and likes r vv much appreciated :)

it's always the dance racha fics that get me crying in early mornings LIKE SGKEGSKWG

corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters. 

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky. 

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him. 

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away. 

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy. 

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there. 

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own. 

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,” 

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story. 

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking. 

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime. 

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity, 

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.” 

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being. 

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.” 

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper. 

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch. 

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy. 

© LUVTAK 2024

What your cameraroll looks like if you're dating Bang Chan

OH MY GODDDDDDDD

DIAAAA!! What do you think of an alternative ending, where Mila and Hwang Sejun ends up together and the members can’t do anything abt it?? And Mila and Sejun r genuinely in love?? Ngl I find Sejun n Mila cute tgt 😭😭

ngl this had me tempted lol like idk why sejun ended up just stealing the spotlight but understandable 👹 anyway!! don’t know for sure if i will do it, but i do have a deleted scene here for any sejunxmila fans out there ✨✨

ılı. 𝒩ow Playing . . . 𝘖𝘓𝘋𝘌𝘙 ( 𝗂𝗌𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖺 ) ✦ ݁ . ────────𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗻.

“You know, you could just move in with me.”

Mila was half awake at midnight, wearing nothing but one of Sejun’s dress shirts, and definitely not prepared for his proposition.

“It would save you the time of sneaking out and back into your dorms again,” he continued, brushing away a strand of hair from her face. “And it means I get to see you like this even more.”

Mila felt almost guilty that she even considered the offer. She loved her members too much to be away from them—but maybe that was the perfect reason she could offer to justify why it was a good idea. Seeing her thoughtful expression, Sejun smiled. He kissed her forehead gently (as if he didn’t leave hand-shaped bruises on her hips, or a trail of purple love bites on every inch of her skin the night before). 

“You’re getting soft,” Mila pointed out. He had always been somewhat gentle with her—when they weren’t in bed, anyways. But after two months of sneaking around beneath the noses of Dispatch and, in Mila’s case, her fellow members, she supposed that maybe he had grown a fondness for her after all.

“How can I not? Do you know how adorable you are?” he whispered, pecking her on the lips. A boyish grin made its way onto his face when she wrinkled her nose. Anyone would instantly forget that he was, in fact, seven years her senior and a notorious sex icon in the acting industry, whose name was involved in more scandal headlines than all of Enhypen combined. “My cute bunny.”

“Well, this bunny has to go hopping home,” Mila said with a petulant tone.

Sejun quirked an eyebrow. “Leaving already?” He caressed her thighs, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. “Why don’t you stay a little longer, hm? I’ll drive you home later.”

Mila didn’t know if that was a good idea. She had already been here longer than she intended, and if she let him have his way, she would be stumbling into the Enhypen dorms by the time everyone else was awake. But then, what did it matter if she did?

Sejun immediately knew when she had given in. “Good girl.”

Mila blamed her childhood, for the lack of praises from her absent father who left with barely a goodbye, for the way she easily succumbed to the praises of a man who would ruin her further than she already was. But, what could she say? He always knew how to get the best out of her.

the 23 curse is hitting hard

i'm physically and emotionally unwell