WAITING ROOM ──★ ˙

Three years ago, you met Heeseung at a Halloween party. And, in a way, he never really left.

You remember the night in sharp, neon clarity, the kind that only exists in memories warped by time and too many cheap drinks. The bass of the music was rattling against the walls, distorting into something unrecognizable by the time it reached your ears. The air was thick, humid with the breath of a hundred strangers crammed into an apartment too small to hold them. It smelled like spilled alcohol, synthetic fog from a cheap smoke machine, and the faintest trace of cinnamon, probably from some idiot who thought Fireball was a good idea.

You were standing in the kitchen, gripping a plastic cup half-full of something blue and questionably sweet, when you felt it. The warmth of someone moving too close. The press of a shoulder against yours. And then—disaster.

MIDNIGHT CRAVINGS ᰔ sim jaeyun .ᐟ

feedbacks ୨୧ reblogs / a/n : i tried new theme! wdytt ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚

The dormitory air is thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the faint traces of ink smeared on notebook pages. The dim glow of your desk lamp casts soft shadows on the walls as you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing furiously on your laptop. A half-eaten chocolate bar rests beside you, your last attempt at staying awake as you battle against the deadline looming over your head. The room is filled with the soft tapping of keys and the occasional shuffle of papers, an atmosphere of quiet concentration settled between you and Jake. Well, at least on your part.

Across from you, Jake sits with his back resting against your couch, his long fingers tapping against the table in a slow, rhythmic motion. His eyes flicker from his notes to you, then back to his screen, though his attention seems to be anywhere but on the work in front of him. You don’t notice it at first, too absorbed in your report, but the longer you sit together, the more his odd behavior becomes impossible to ignore. The way he keeps shifting in place, the subtle clenching of his jaw, the way his lips press together as if he’s holding something back—it’s all so unlike him.

You pause your typing, gaze narrowing as you finally address him. "Jake?" Your voice carries an edge of concern as you peer at him over your laptop. "Are you okay?"

His head snaps up, like a kid caught sneaking candy before dinner. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Totally. Just… tired."

*Scrolls past*

*reluctant sigh*

*scrolls back up*

*rebogs*

stargirl — lhs

— you are heeseung's perfect star, glowing just for him and the way he fucks you makes you shine even brighter.

“I had a vision, a vision of my nails in the kitchen…”

Stargirl Interlude played softly in the background, a sultry contrast to the sound of skin slapping against skin, echoing through the kitchen.

“Scratchin’ counter tops, I was screamin’—”

“Heeseung, fuck!” you squealed, nails digging so hard into the counter they nearly bled. Behind you, Heeseung only groaned, gripping your hips tighter as he thrust into you again and again.

how to not fall in love

summary: you’ve been in love with heeseung for as long as you can remember, but to him, you’ve always just been the best friend—reliable, familiar, safe. so when you hear him say he doesn’t see you that way, you decide it’s time to stop. stop caring, stop hoping. but ignoring someone you’ve loved for years is harder than it sounds… especially when he starts acting like he doesn’t want you to stop.

genre: fluff | best friends to lovers

characters: best friend!heeseungx f!reader

words: 7.6k

warnings: none i think!

a/n: and here is my first enha fic!!!! <3<3 and yes heeseung is my bias

You don’t even remember when it started.

Maybe it was the first time Heeseung flashed you that ridiculously charming smile on your very first day of kindergarten—doe eyes, dimpled cheeks, and a shy little wave like he was offering you his entire heart with just a look.

Or maybe it was that time in middle school when he forgot there was a major history exam and you stayed up until 2 a.m. making color-coded flashcards for him, highlighters smudged on your fingers and worry tugging at your chest. He showed up the next morning at your door, hair a mess, holding a bag of greasy Chinese takeout and two cans of your favorite peach soda.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he said, in that effortless, playful way of his, ruffling your hair like you were some helpful little puppy.

You laughed, but your heart did a triple somersault.

Love. He said it like it was casual.

Not knowing it felt like a confession to you.

Truth is, it only got worse from there.

Your unrequited love? It grew legs and started running wild.

𓈒 ㅤ⭐️୨୧ ㅤ𓈒 sunghoon when your on your period

Sunghoon’s voice filters through his headset, low and focused as he clicks away at his keyboard. “Jake, left—no, your other left—”

You don’t care about his game. You don’t care about Heeseung and Jake yelling through his speakers. Right now, all you care about is the way your stomach is twisting painfully, the dull ache spreading through your lower back, the exhaustion settling deep in your bones.

So you do the only thing that makes sense—you climb into his lap.

Sunghoon stiffens immediately, his fingers pausing over his keyboard as he glances down at you, eyes wide. “Whoa, baby—”

“Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?” Heeseung’s voice crackles through the headset.

Sunghoon exhales, wrapping an arm around your waist as you nuzzle into his neck. “Uh—”

Jake snickers. “Dude, are you getting cuddled mid-game?”

Sunghoon groans, already reaching for the keyboard with one hand, but you shift slightly in his lap, and he falters. Your warmth, the way your arms curl around him, the way you press a soft, barely-there kiss against his skin, it all makes him forget about his stupid game in an instant.

“Guys, I gotta go,” he mutters, ripping his headset off before they can protest.

He tilts his head down, nudging your cheek with his nose. “What’s up, princess?”

You don’t answer, your face buried against his throat. His fingers tighten around your waist, thumb stroking circles against the fabric of his hoodie. He lets you stay like that, soaking in the way you sigh against his skin, pressing another featherlight kiss to the base of his jaw.

collecting posts of this type

get me so high - l.hs

CUMMING OF AGE

You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.

Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.

You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.

You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.