vanillaxbambi

[vanillaxbambi]

Omg i just read the new jaemin fic, it makes me so hurt but also so spicy. Can i request for tbz kevin, having a hard sweaty sex with him in a closed sauna, just riding wild on his cock and tasting the salty water on his chest while the other members in the sauna are just watching both of them going crazy and just playing with themselves.

thank u for the request love! but, i dont write bl unfortunately :(

[vanillaxbambi]

Hi this is my first time asking a req. can you write about dilf! Ceo Jaemin cheating on his wife in his fail marriage with his female secretary.

Just them fking in the office gym shower stall, her sucking Jaemin off while he is online meeting and him slapping his secretary face with his cock after tht. Riding Jaemin after office hour while he purposefully call his wife just to rub the salt into her wound that he is breeding other woman than her.

…this is kinda messy…idk u can take the wheel

.+*after hours || na jaemin.

+*pairing: TOXIC CHEATER dilf/ceo!jaemin x secretary!reader

+*wc: 1.6k

+*contains: explict sexual content, pwp, dom / sub dynamics, p in c ( wrap before u tap ), manhandling, impact play, emotionally manipulative/abusive jaemin, infidelity, degradation, rough sex, shower sex, oral ( m. rec ), breeding, and power imbalance. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE TW BOTHER YOU.

synopsis: jaemin was never the kind of man that you took as honorable and respected. many would probably say he’s more feared and hated. he does whatever he wants and gets whatever he wants. it’s not a surprise to anyone when they notice that his fifth secretary (you) is hot as hell and the next thing lined up on his to do list.

m i k a 🌷: i really appreciate such detailed requests. gives me something to really run with while i write! ALSO kinda hurt my heart to write such a toxic and evil jaemin… sort of had to dissociate and get into the character of anon’s request. i hope this is what anon envisioned <3

🌷g e n e r a l t a g l i s t — @fatherwound @str8ykids @nctrenjunie @enigmaticsal @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @wsrod-deszczu @serendipityunho @hxonieverse @ninistranaut @rockstarkkami @brokenengene @theyluvjake

***reader discretion is advised. by continuing to interact and read, reader acknowledges that the themes and characters in this story are a complete work of fiction and do not reflect the person or reputation of na jaemin by any means.***

m a s t e r l i s t .

your lipstick’s barely dry when he walks in.

tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, still in his three-piece suit like he owns the entire fucking floor—and he does. ceo na jaemin, the man you were hired to assist. except somewhere between fetching schedules and filing contracts, you became something else.

his favorite distraction.

tonight, it’s the office gym.

the executive one. the one hidden two floors above, keycard access only, always empty after hours. he drags you inside like he’s done it a hundred times, lips already on your neck, one hand squeezing your ass while the other yanks your skirt up.

“fucking missed this pussy,” he mutters, voice low, thick with tension. “my wife’s been on my case all week. nagging about date nights like i give a shit.”

you hum in response, palms sliding under his shirt. “you still fucking her?”

he chuckles against your collarbone.

“nah. wouldn’t touch her even if she begged.”

god, this was so wrong…

then he slams you against the cold glass of the shower stall, knee pushing your legs apart.

but why does being bad feel so good?

you gasp, heartbeat spiking. he doesn’t give you time to adjust. his fingers are in your panties, tugging them down, already spreading you open with practiced ease.

“wet for me already?” jaemin groans. “god, i love how easy you are.”

you whimper when he drags the head of his cock through your folds—slow, teasing, before shoving it in deep.

you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase on the tile.

he grunts behind you, pace unrelenting. the slap of his hips against your ass echoes in the stall, each thrust rougher than the last. water isn’t even on. he wants to hear you. feel everything.

“you think she knows?” he pants. “thinks her perfect husband’s balls-deep in his little secretary every other night?”

“she probably suspects,” you moan. “you never hide it.”

he laughs.

“no point hiding something that feels this good.”

he reaches around, fingers finding your clit with expert pressure. your legs shake.

“gonna cum already?” he teases. “fuck, i love when you make a mess all over my cock. gonna stretch this pussy until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

you sob into the glass, thighs quivering. his grip never loosens.

when he pulls out, you almost cry from the loss—but he just spins you around, lifts you up effortlessly, and slides back in while pinning your back against the shower wall.

“there,” he growls, fucking into you from below. “want you to look at me when you cum. let me see how wrecked i’ve made you.”

your orgasm hits with a cry, body spasming, nails digging into his shoulders. he grits his teeth, thrusts deeper, and finishes inside you with a guttural groan, keeping you wrapped around him as he empties every drop.

you barely recover before the next scene begins.

* * *

“stay under the desk.”

his voice is sharp now. curt. in control.

you kneel between his legs as he settles into the plush leather chair, laptop open in front of him. an online board meeting. six other faces appear on screen—legal, finance, international development—and none of them have a clue what’s happening just out of frame.

your lips close around his cock.

jaemin doesn’t flinch.

“the merger timeline’s being pushed up?” he says smoothly, voice deep and composed. “good. we’ve wasted enough time on that contract.”

you bob your head slowly, hollowing your cheeks, tongue swirling around the tip.

his thigh tenses.

he places one hand on your head—casual, like he’s just resting it there—but you feel the subtle twitch of his fingers as he controls your rhythm.

“any objections to moving the date up two weeks?”

you swirl your tongue again and swallow him deeper. his breath hitches. no one notices.

you suck harder, letting drool drip from your chin, hands resting obediently on his thighs. he’s pulsing in your mouth. every time you gag, he lets out a subtle grunt—low enough to pass as a breath.

“i’ll sign off on it tomorrow,” he mutters.

you suck him until his abs flex and he bites his lip.

“meeting’s over,” he says, voice tight. “send me the updates.”

the moment the screen goes dark, he grabs your jaw and pulls his cock out, slick and throbbing.

then he slaps it against your cheek.

hard.

“filthy little cocksleeve,” he sneers, slapping your other cheek with it. “can’t go one day without choking on this, huh?”

you moan, tongue out, eyes glassy.

“open wider.”

he slaps your lips with the tip, smearing precum across your tongue before sliding back in.

“fuck, i should keep you under my desk permanently,” jaemin growls. “mouth like yours shouldn’t be wasted on anything else.”

he uses your throat like a toy, hips jerking forward until your eyes water. you grip his thighs, letting him use you, spit dripping down your chin.

“look at you,” he laughs. “taking my cock like a trained little whore.”

when he finishes, he paints your tongue with it, then presses your lips shut with his fingers.

“swallow it.”

you do—without blinking.

* * *

you ride him after hours.

his suit jacket is still on. your blouse is unbuttoned, skirt bunched around your hips, hands braced against his chest as you bounce on his cock. the office is dim, but you can see everything in the glass behind him—your reflection, the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the dark look in jaemin’s eyes.

he grabs his phone mid-thrust.

you don’t even think about it until he hits dial.

your heart stutters.

“hi, baby,” jaemin says sweetly. “yeah. still working late.”

you freeze, but he grabs your hips and forces you to keep riding him.

“project deadlines, you know? my secretary’s helping me catch up. she’s been so…” his breath catches when you clench, “…so hands-on.”

you moan despite yourself, face heating.

“what’s that?” he murmurs, cock still buried deep. “you miss me? aww. i’ll be home soon.”

then he smirks at you. evil. gleaming.

“actually—hold on. lemme put you on speaker.”

your eyes widen. you try to slow down.

he doesn’t let you.

his phone rests on the desk now, his wife’s voice faint on the other end—rambling about dinner, about plans, about nothing.

and you’re on top of her husband, being fucked raw.

“mm, you hear that?” he groans loud enough for her to hear. “you hear how wet it is, baby?”

your eyes roll back.

he thrusts up into you, hard.

“you never sounded like this,” he spits into the phone. “never took my cock like she does. maybe that’s why i stopped giving it to you.”

you cum.

loud. obscene. crying out as your cunt clenches tight around him.

he groans with you, slamming into you faster, chasing his own high with brutal thrusts.

“fuck—i’m gonna breed her now,” he says into the phone. “fill her up until my cum leaks down her thighs.”

“jaemin—!” his wife cries. he ends the call mid-sob.

then he grabs your chin.

“say it,” he snarls.

“say what?” you pant, body twitching.

“say whose pussy this is.”

“yours,” you sob. “it’s yours—it’s always been yours—”

he cums with a broken growl, gripping your hips as he pumps you full. you collapse against his chest. both of you ruined. sweaty, flushed, reeking of sex.

he strokes your back once. soft. satisfied.

then he grabs your chin again.

“i’m clearing your schedule tomorrow morning,” he murmurs. “i’m not done with you yet.”

m i k a 🌷: leave a comment, send an ask, or message me if you would like to be added to any of my taglists! the main taglist is linked on my pinned post!

[vanillaxbambi]

.+*not so soft || jeong yunho.

“yeah, i could be gentle… but that aint what you like.”

.+*contains: softdom!yunho x bratty sub!femreader . . . || degradation | soft dom switch to hard dom | light bondage | squirting ||

.+*wc: 1.3k

synopsis: your loving boyfriend has always taken care of you as if you were a delicate piece of glass. tonight? you’ve definitely tested his limits.

m i k a 🌷: naturally… i would be inspired by the freaked out lyrics of in your fantasy. ESPECIALLY MY MANS YUNHO’S LINES GRAHHHHHH. anywho, enjoy. this was longer than i intended.

m a s t e r l i s t .

he tried.

he really, really tried to be gentle with you tonight.

yunho had started off slow—sweet kisses, soft touches, letting his hands explore you like you were delicate. like you might break.

but you? you weren’t in the mood to be handled with care.

you’d pulled at his hair, whined about how slow he was going, rolled your hips down onto his lap with too much purpose. and when he pushed your shirt up, brushing his fingers over your ribs with reverence, you looked him dead in the eye and said:

“you gonna keep treating me like a soft baby, or you gonna fuck me already?”

something in him snapped.

his fingers stopped mid-stroke. his gaze sharpened. and the next time he touched you, it wasn’t careful.

it was commanding.

he dragged you off his lap and threw you on the bed like you were nothing but a toy he was tired of teasing.

“you’ve got a smart mouth,” he muttered, standing over you, eyes raking down your body. “i’ve been nothing but sweet to you. and you’re still acting like a fucking brat.”

you smirked, thinking it was a game.

but when he grabbed your jaw and made you look up at him, there was no sweetness left in his expression.

“you wanna get used?” he asked, tone dark and dangerous. “you wanna see what i’m like when i stop pretending to be nice?”

your breath caught.

“get on your knees.”

you obeyed. fast. something about his voice left no room for hesitation.

you settled between his legs, hands resting on your thighs, chest rising with anticipation. he undid his belt with maddening calm, letting the leather drag through the loops. you could hear your pulse in your ears.

“open your mouth.”

you did, lips parting slowly.

yunho ran his thumb along your lower lip, then slipped it inside—watching as you instinctively wrapped your tongue around it.

“look at you,” he muttered. “always so defiant until i put something in your mouth.”

he dragged his thumb out and replaced it with two fingers—deep, rough, pressing past your tongue and holding them there until your throat clenched.

“gag on it, baby,” he cooed. “show me how much you wanna choke on my cock.”

you whimpered.

he pulled his fingers out, wiped them on your cheek, then used them to tilt your face up again. “such a good little slut when you’re quiet.”

he dragged you up by your arm and bent you over the bed without warning. the tie he usually wore for work became your wrist restraint, looped behind your back and tugged taut.

“keep those hands there. move, and i stop. understood?”

“yes,” you breathed. “yes, yunho.”

he slid your panties down slow—just to admire the way you were already soaked.

“fucking dripping,” he muttered. “you’re disgusting— pathetic thing.”

you moaned.

“you like that? being called names?” he spat, pushing your legs apart with his knee. “want me to treat you like the little cockdrunk toy you are?”

“yes, fuck—please—”

you didn’t get to finish begging.

because yunho slammed into you in one unforgiving thrust.

you screamed into the sheets, body jolting forward from the force.

“that what you wanted?” he growled, grabbing your tied wrists and shoving them into the small of your back. “you wanted to be fucked like a hole? just used until you cry?”

“yes—yes—yes—”

“mm. now you’re being honest.”

he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, harder. faster. his hips slapping against your ass with obscene rhythm.

“feel that? how deep i am?” he grunted. “you’re so fucking small, i can feel your pussy sucking me in. greedy little thing.”

your legs shook. your body was already trembling.

and then he reached around and slapped your clit.

hard.

“don’t you dare cum,” he growled. “not until i say.”

“fuck—yunho—please—”

“you don’t get to beg, baby,” he hissed into your ear. “you lost that right the second you started acting like a brat.”

he kept thrusting. kept rubbing your clit. kept making filthy little observations between groans. “you hear how wet you are? nasty fucking sounds, baby.”

“look at that—your thighs are shaking. you gonna fall apart already?”

“what would your friends say if they saw you like this, huh? bent over and drooling for me?”

your body jolted again.

“answer me.”

“they’d—they’d say i’m a fucking mess,” you sobbed. “they’d say i’m pathetic for loving it—”

yunho groaned like it turned him on more than anything.

“pathetic little mess,” he echoed, thrusting faster. “you’re gonna cum now. do it. i want this pussy ruined.”

you exploded.

your orgasm hit like a flood, body twitching, mouth open in a silent cry, tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucked you through it.

but he didn’t stop.

not when you clenched. not when you begged. not even when your knees collapsed and your face pressed into the mattress.

“what’s the matter, angel?” he taunted, voice still sweet despite how brutal his hips were. “thought this was what you wanted?”

you sobbed. incoherent. overstimulated.

he leaned over and whispered: “i could’ve been gentle. could’ve kissed you slow, made you cum on my fingers like always. but that ain’t what you like, is it?”

you whimpered, trying to pull away.

he slapped your ass and pinned your hips down.

“nah, don’t run now. take it.”

you came again. violently. messily. your legs gave out and your body shuddered like you’d been struck by lightning.

“fuck,” yunho grunted. “you’re squirting on my cock.”

he sounded proud. “good fucking girl.”

he finally groaned when he came, deep and long, pulling your wrists up as he buried himself to the hilt. your cunt twitched around him, completely spent, wrecked, stretched beyond recognition.

you both breathed heavy.

and then—

his hand slid to your back.

gentle. soft. stroking.

“you okay, angel?”

you nodded, tears still on your cheeks, face flushed.

he kissed your temple, then untied your wrists with careful fingers.

“you were so perfect for me,” he whispered. “did so fucking well.”

you slurred something close to “thank you,” brain foggy from orgasm after orgasm.

he pulled you into his chest, kissing your shoulder. “next time,” he whispered, voice low and teasing, “maybe think twice before calling me soft.”

[vanillaxbambi]

ya girl is bored, someone send me a little blurb request:33 <3

- m i k a 🌷🎀

[vanillaxbambi]

♡꙳⟡˖° enhypen kink fixations ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ ₊˚⊹☁︎

500 wc — enhypen x fem!reader . . . sexual content | lots of dirty talk/petnames | daddy kink | dumification | free use

m i k a 🌷: banging my head against a wall. yes — this is dom!enhypen propaganda, if u no likey, there's literally many blogs on here that write sub!enha to enjoy on here:) also sort of used their natal charts to do a rough analysis on some of them.... read at your own discretion.

🌷g e n e r a l t a g l i s t — @fatherwound @str8ykids @nctrenjunie @enigmaticsal @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @wsrod-deszczu @serendipityunho @hxonieverse @ninistranaut @rockstarkkami @brokenengene @theyluvjake

m a s t e r l i s t .

— h e e s e u n g ᥫ᭡ eye contact, mirror sex

heeseung is driven by aesthetics — he’s fixated on mirror play and the excitement of slight exhibitionism. he craves scenarios where he can visually admire both himself and his partner, while turning seduction into a game of who caves first.

"uh uh, eyes forward angel. you look so good getting fucked by me."

"you love the risk, don’t you? anyone could walk in, but you're leaking all over me anyway.”

"look at you. all fucked out and messy because im making you watch."

— j a y ᥫ᭡ roleplaying, discipline

jay is all about praise, power in routines, and verbal stimulation. he thrives on dirty talk and roleplay. his perfectionist streak makes him obsessed with technique, while his leo mars feeds his need for admiration and control.

“wanna play pretend with daddy, baby? lets see how long that bratty attitude lasts in detention.”

“count. if you forget your place or miss one— we start again.”

“such a perfect little thing… so obedient. just the way that i trained you to be.”

— s u n g h o o n ᥫ᭡ sensory dep, dom/sub roles

sunghoon craves control but with precision — he loves power dynamics, sensory deprivation, and temperature play. beneath his composed exterior lies a well of secret, consuming fantasies that revolve around discipline, restriction, and dark indulgence.

"cum. see what happens."

"don't you love not knowing what i might do to your body while that blindfold covers your eyes?"

" and you’ll take everything i have to give you like the needy slut you are.”

— j a k e ᥫ᭡ ownership, breeding kink

jake’s kinks are deep, visceral, and possessive — he’s obsessed with ownership, leaving marks, and emotional sex. jealousy play, breeding fantasies, and rough impact play all tap into his scorpio intensity and aries fire, making sex as much about claiming as it is connection.

“mine. you understand me? all fucking mine. i don’t care who’s fucked you before— i’ll ruin you so no one else can have you.”

“ look at those marks… need everyone to know i own you.”

“ you want it raw, huh? want me to fill you to the brim, let it leak out, then fuck it back in?”

— s u n o o ᥫ᭡ praise kink, teasing

sunoo blends playfulness with performance — he’s into praise ( giving and receiving ) and soft restraints. he loves when a partner challenges him playfully, setting the stage with visuals like lingerie and creating scenarios where he can both nurture and take the lead whenever his partner needs it.

“mm, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart… want your reward now?”

“you look so pretty my love… i love the way you look with bows around your pretty wrists.”

“my cute, messy baby… you like what i’m doing to you? too much? aww… i think you can handle more.. my strong girl.”

— j u n g w o n ᥫ᭡ orgasm control/edging

leader for a reason... jungwon is psychologically driven, favoring power exchange through mental games, orgasm control, and breath play. he’s precise and calculating, finding excitement in edging his partner to their limits and orchestrating scenarios where mind and body are both under his command. he gets off on how much his partner willingly gives him.

“don’t. i know, i know baby… feels good? you can’t until i give you permission. hold it. ”

“look how pathetic — drooling, panting, desperate. don’t worry though, i like my toys fucked dumb. ”

“it’s been 2 hours baby… one more wont hurt.”

— r i k i ᥫ᭡ free use, size kink/power play

niki is physical, spontaneous, and unfiltered — his kinks revolve around impact play, degradation, and free use. he’s into rough, impulsive encounters, loves power imbalance, and finds satisfaction in age play or any dynamic where dominance is asserted unapologetically.

“shut the fuck up and take it. you’re mine to use. mine to play with. admit it, you love being my easy little fucktoy….”

“aww, am i too big for your tight hole? c’mon try pushing me out. ”

“ i don’t care if your crying. your tears make perfect lube.”

[vanillaxbambi]

seeing ateez tonight!!!!! :3

[vanillaxbambi]

hi

hi belle, my sweets !! 💕

[vanillaxbambi]

PLEAD THE FILTH IS SAUR GOOD!! thank you for writing the masterpiece!! 🤩 i hope you write more of felix!!

ahhh!! thank youu anon💕🌷🫶🏼 i will definitely queue some more ideas for felix! xoxo

- m i k a 🌷

[vanillaxbambi]

.+*plead the fifth || lee yongbok.

.+*pairing: domdetective!felix x psycho fem killer!reader .+*genre: smut, angst, dark concepts. .+*word count: ~1.2k

.+*contains: smut, p in v ( wrap before you tap ), mean dom!felix, degradation, dumification, hate sex, hair pulling, names: “slut, stupid whore, cock slut”, mentions of murder, loss of a parental figure, blood, unstable mental health of reader, manipulation, unaliving threats.

synopsis: Felix is working on interrogating you, his lethal ex girlfriend. you’ve become murderous after your break up and under his command, he needs to wield out a confession from you. Under methods not advised or recommended by most detectives.

m i k a 🌷: i’ve had this in my drafts since 2021…. like about time lmao. let me know what you think about this one!

🎀taglist : @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @schvveinhund @str8ykids @nctrenjunie @enigmaticsal @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @wsrod-deszczu @serendipityunho @hxonieverse @ninistranaut

reader discretion is advised when consuming media of triggering themes. by continuing to read, you understand that what’s written below is a complete work of fiction and does not reflect felix as a person.

m a s t e r l i s t .

How long were you going to lie to him? How long are you going to pretend that he has no affect on you?

Not to worry, Felix knew a way to force you to give into him. He knew which buttons to push to force a confession out of you. Sadly, your relationship being in ruins had to be the reason as to why he even has to take to horrible measures in the first place.

“So you’re going to tell me that you didn’t kill her?”

You smirk charmingly towards your hard at work ex, cocking your head to the side. ”Why should I tell you anything?”

“You swore to tell the truth.” Felix points to where you’ve signed.

“I also have the right to remain silent.“ You narrow your eyes, leaning back in your chair with your cuffed hands in your lap. “You know, pleading the fifth.”

“You’re sure doing a lot of talking considering you want to exercise the right to remain silent.” Felix twirls the pen in his fingers impatiently.

“Oh, I’ve pleaded for more than a fifth with you before Felix.”

Felix smirks humorlessly. Scoffing at your audacity to mention your past experiences with him. “Stop stalling and tell me why you did it. We‘ve already caught you on tape. Leaving the victim’s apartment and flicking off the security cameras.”

”Whoever did that—Sounds like a bad ass bitch to me.” You laugh, eyeing the way his fingers touched the pen in his hand. Reminding you of the many things this man would do to you. Used to do to you.

This thought brings a bitter taste to your mouth now that you remember that everything concerning your ex is said in past tense. He was no longer yours. Even when he still belonged to you in your mind.

You ball your hands into fists and he catches the shift in your mood.

This was his chance to force your motive and confession out.

“Seungmin, unlock the door. I’m coming out.”

Your heart races from his statement causing your body to sit up straight as he rises from the silver metallic chair. He was leaving. Leaving you again.

“No!” You reach out with both of your cuffed hands to snatch him back into the room, you've managed to launch yourself over the cold silver table. “You will not leave me.”

Felix lifts a questioning brow, stalling before he exits. Using his other hand to shove yours off of him. Your body lamely splays onto the cold metallic table.

"Who gave you permission to touch me?" His low, steady tone instantly sends a familiar twitch down your spine and you can't help but smile from your body's trained reaction.

"You don't get to tell me what to do." You spit out with a hiss to your voice. the venomous snake that you were couldn't possibly take long to make this man foam at the mouth.

He was, in fact, the man that used to spend hours pleasuring you so painfully. one of the many traits that drove you unbelievably insane.

Instead of giving you a reaction, Felix grips your file tightly in his hand and leaves you to be alone in your insane rage.

Felix hated being bothered by your bratty mouth. Safe to say that he was planning to crack you. pulling a double tonight would help him tire you out.

* * * * *

you're gripping the table with strength that turns your knuckles white. the handcuffs restrain you and hold you in place while your body lurches forward with every thrust.

he was still just as big as he used to be—if not bigger and veinier than you remembered. his hips were moving at a pace you could only react to with shock. “jogging your memories now, y/n?”

“fuck— fuck you!” your voice sounding weaker than you intended.

his deep voice rumbles behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers interlock through your hair by the scalp to yank your torso back to meet his lips. “what do you think we’re doing, then y/n? i’m already fucking you stupid.”

“i’ll kill you as soon as these handcuffs come off—“ your mouth is covered by his palm. pressing your lips against your teeth to keep you from talking, the leverage actually helping him fuck you with more stability.

“you were always prettier when you were gagged.” felix huffs as his groans slip from his throat. deep and guttural as he feels your core tighten around his cock. “fuck— you’re still a tight fucking slut… still going to refuse admitting what you did wrong?”

your snarl is muffled by his hand. you hate that your legs feel like jelly. your tears threaten to prick your eyes and your body weak underneath his strong frame.

he laughs. actually laughs while you struggle.

it’s been a firm 30 minutes and the hum of the over head lamp echos just as much as the wet plopping and smacking noise of your bodies fill the space.

your arms are above your head, handcuffs digging into your wrists. felix roughly presses your thighs to your chest, fucking you deeper into the cold metal of the table.

at this point, tears are fully streaked down your face and he chuckles at your disposition. “ready to talk now my little cock slut?”

you manage to turn your head away from him defiantly…

years ago he had been the one to leave you in the darkest moments of your life… when you needed him the most. when the trauma of losing your abusive mother consumed you. when things stop mattering. people were voids— simply in your way.

you aren’t stupid. actually you were the entire opposite.

it took felix at least 5 years to finally catch you.

not because you were predictable, but you had gotten sloppy on purpose. the more people you encountered and killed… the more you noticed felix was drawn to stop you.

you had gotten addicted to his obsession with catching you.

this cat and mouse game that used to be fleshed out in fantasies of the bedroom now translated into the rush of murder and mystery.

you were the murderer and the mystery of what you’ve done was felix’s chase…

deep down in your heart. you just wanted to be pursued. to be held close and told that nothing you did mattered. as long as you stayed with him…

this moment?

is the closest thing you would get to that assurance.

his cock deep inside you. molding your walls to every vein and curve of his shaft. hands all over you, manhandling your limbs to bend to his will.

your liquids leak out of you as you both near a precipice of orgasm….

“you know,” felix was so warm… so close and vicersally with you. god, this intimacy was such a trance. a drug you could endlessly inject yourself with. “i’ll keep fucking you as long as that pretty mouth tells me all your dirty little secrets… how does that sound, y/n?”

his voice was like melted chocolate in your ear.

anything for you felix… “please—“ you plea, brain melted. thoughts abandoned. intimacy at it’s peak. “don’t stop.”

“will you tell me everything, baby??” he slows, causing you to whine and reach for him.

“yes, please! felix don’t fucking stop!” you sound pathetic but at this point, you didnt care.

he was with you.

he finally caught you.

and after years of running… maybe it was worth it. this was your reward.

* * * * *

“she murdered her out of jealousy.” felix stares at you blandly as he explains to the prosecutor. as if you never mattered. as if he didn’t fuck you for 3 days straight. as if your love didn’t matter.

the low growl that leaves your throat is a warning before you thrash against your handcuffs. using all your might to lunge forward. you were going to kill him. “ you fucking bastard! i’ll fucking kill you when i get out!” the sting of your wrists are dull compared to the burning of your entire head. trying to wrap around the thought of him stabbing you in the back.

“miss y/n,” felix tilts his head, indifferently. like your display of betrayal was trivial. “good luck trying to kill me behind bars.”

your wrists are bleeding now. you’re still thrashing and gnashing your teeth, with hot tears ripping down your face.

the prosecutor yells over to someone.

a second later, your body seizes.

electrical currents flooding your nerves and muscles.

stunning your body into a limp pile on the cold cell floor.

guards collect your limbs before placing you into the chair. the last thing you hear before you pass out is felix’s stupidly deep voice:

“now, you be a good girl for me while i’m gone…”

m i k a 🌷: a little darker imagine than what i currently have on my blog but i really enjoyed writing this. thank you for reading! if you want to be included in any of my taglists for my future works comment, send an ask, or message me!

All Rights Reserved to vanillaxbambi 2025. Any posts on other platforms are prohibited.

[vanillaxbambi]

.+* m a i n t a g l i s t — ᥫ᭡

m a s t e r l i s t .

🌷 g e n e r a l t a g l i s t — ᥫ᭡

@heegyukeluv @fatherwound @schvveinhund @str8ykids @nctrenjunie @enigmaticsal @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @wsrod-deszczu @serendipityunho @hxonieverse @ninistranaut @rockstarkkami @brokenengene

🎀 s e r i e s t a g l i s t — ᥫ᭡

ᥫ᭡ behind the camera — lee heeseung

@heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme @sagegreenhairclip @lveegsoi @ninistranaut @srhnyx @simj4k3 @jiyeons-closet @hxonieverse @ninistranaut @fangirl125reader @his-seung

ᥫ᭡ dear stupid diary — yoon jeonghan

@yateez @allygator-98 @serendipiityrps @08skrr @shiningstar-byulxx @chwesbaby @mydaeguboys @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @snacksonwang @enigmaticsal @serenadesvt @lizsvcks @louvyves @joshuahoe @namjoonslefttiddie

if you would like to be added to any of my taglists please comment, send an ask, or message me to let me know which ones!!💕🌷🫶🏼

All Rights Reserved 2025 ® by Mika of vanillaxbambi 🌷

[vanillaxbambi]

drippin love || na jaemin.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS CNC [—you have been warned, if this type of content triggers you please do not read ], a rare harddom!jaemin, overstimulation fingering, and roleplay.

+*wc: 800

synopsis: loving boyfriend plays the role of a toxic, harddom per request of his needy, curious gf…

m a s t e r l i s t .

* * * * * * * * “Is it okay if we try something uh… new?” You suggest cautiously as your fingers trace his bare chest.

“what is it, princess?” His deep voice rattles as you lay on top of him, setting his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s a little…aggressive…” You warn with a hint of apprehension.

Your doting boyfriend shifts underneath you and hums. “How do you mean?” Your long pause is questionable and mysterious to your lover. “try me.”

na jaemin. your loving, sweet, considerate— would never hurt a fly— boyfriend couldn’t have expected what was about to leave your mouth.

“I want you to rape… me.”

“you want me to what!?” his voice breaks from shock. as if what you said was completely ridiculous and insane.

of course to the normal person, this was insane. toxic. worthy of jail.

you recoil. immediately grossed out with yourself now that you’ve seen the absolute shock on your sweet boyfriend’s face. “never mind— oh god, i shouldn’t have said anything. pretend i didn’t say anything.”

“no, no,” jaemin presses the hand on your back firmly to keep you against his chest. “baby, please tell me. i want to know what you mean.”

his groundng voice draws you back in. his eyes search with a gentle gaze.

“i don’t want you to look at me different…”

“baby…” jaemin draws slowly, sitting up to level your eye contact. your body straddled over his lap. “i love you for all of you. even if it’s not something i’m used to, i still want to know…”

“well…” you start. “it’s something that i want to try… it’s more like a role play thing…”

“ah,” jaemin nods, trying to grasp what you’re saying. “so you want me to pretend… to force you…”

you hate that your stomach lurches just from him saying it. “yes…” you’re near breathless.

“you would want that from me, baby?” jaemin confirms with such an understanding tone, his eyes searching yours as you try to avoid eye contact. “yeah?”

you slowly nod. the thoughts flooding your mind as you flush.

“just tell me how far you want me to go baby…” jaemin’s hand strokes your back gently.

and you do. explicitly.

* * * * * * * * *

“Don’t tell me that you don’t want it anymore, princess...” Jaemin frown is deceptive. You knew better than to fall for his false worry. “It’s not okay anymore?”

You adjust underneath him, panties shoved to the side and his fingers halted inside of your spasming walls. Your hands tightly wrapped around his wrists to pull him away from stimulating you any further.

This type of play was exhilarating. At first, when you suggested it, you were hesitant and didn’t want to scare your boyfriend away with such a taboo kind of kink… yet… telling your boyfriend no and then being “forced”to take what he wanted to give you.

it was pure ecstasy.

you shake your head, playing into this shared fantasy. playing your part. “please, no… stop…” your voice sounded thin and weak. jaemin’s groin twitched harder in response. his fingers continue their assault.

“and what are you going to do about it if I don’t want to?” his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “what if I want to force this pussy to cum all over me?” his slides in another finger through your folds. he lets out a triumphant sigh as you leak over his hand. “aw, you’re already making a mess all over my fingers, you dirty girl. I thought you told me to stop?”

you mumble a whine and Jaemin’s brow twitches up in response.

“what was that, baby?” he dotes on. His fingers brushing your g-spot so deliciously. “I can’t hear you over your wet little pussy.”

you turn your face shamefully away to avoid the feigned innocent stare that’s boring into your eyes. He doesn’t allow that. “you’ll look at me when I’m ruining this pretty little body.”

you cum on his fingers before you can realize what’s happening. “dumb little whore. telling me no when you’re cumming uncontrollably.”

“stop fucking squirming and let me have you… “ jaemin lines himself up with your hips, pressing his head into your entrance as your legs try to shove him away.

but he was too strong. “you’re going to take what i give you—fuck.”

he was down to the hilt against your hips pressing his body weight down over your frame. your slick was evident and made jaemin chuckle. “oh you fucking love being used, don’t you?”

your core tightens and he hisses, eyes darting down at where you’re connected. “fuck, baby— maybe i should take you like this more often….”

m i k a 🌷: hope you enjoyed reading love! check my request box status if you wish to give me something to write about. i will be writing themes like this so if you would like to be added to similar works: message me, comment, or send an ask to be added to the triggering content taglist💕🌷

[vanillaxbambi]

+*#behind the camera — ch. 3 || lee heeseung

+*pairing: childhood crush-> idol!heeseung x make-up artist!femreader

+*wc: 6.2k

+*content warnings: smut (18+), heavy emotional angst (i had to throw in some realism and cry cry content okay, i can’t help myself), dom!heeseung, sub!femreader, dom/sub dynamics (sir , toy, slut, amongst other softer nicknames), dumification, dacryphillia, LOTS of dirty talk (mainly on heeseung’s part… he’s A YAPPER), CHOKING, manhandling, size kink, degradation/praise, cum play(plz wrap before you tap), oral (reader receiving), light impact play, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, secret relationships, and idol industry power imbalances.

reader discretion is advised. this is a fictional piece written for entertainment purposes only and does not reflect the real personalities or actions of lee heeseung. by continuing, you’re acknowledging that you are of legal age and comfortable engaging with these themes.

synopsis: the tension finally breaks. heeseung shows up and for one night, you let yourselves have what you’ve both been craving. and you let him in—completely. it’s hot, slow, and everything you swore you wouldn’t want. but after the high, reality waits quietly at the door. nothing was ever supposed to feel this real.

m i k a 🌷: took me a while to actually figure out which way i wanted to wrap up this story into a bow that was both realistic and bittersweet. i hope you read this knowing that its not supposed to work out and that its a gut wrenching feeling to experience this kind of relationship with someone as famous as a kpop idol. otherwise, i hope you like it and i look forward to all the comments, pms, and reblog tags!! thank you for reading this far!💕

🎀taglist: @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme @sagegreenhairclip @lveegsoi @ninistranaut @srhnyx @simj4ke @jiyeons-closet @hxonieverse @fangirl125reader @his-seung

chapter 2 << chapter 3 (final) || m a s t e r l i s t.

chapter 3.

you don’t know how he finds you.

the stairwell isn’t on the map. no signage, no route markers—just an empty industrial corner of the venue with concrete floors and flickering lights and the kind of silence that feels too still for a city this loud.

but he does.

heeseung finds you.

the door clicks softly behind him. your phone is still open in your hand, but your fingers stop scrolling the second your eyes lift and meet his.

he looks… frayed.

hood up. mask hanging loose under his chin. lips parted like he ran here, or didn’t know what to say until right now.

“you okay?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t speak right away. he just stares at you. at your frame. your face.

and then—quiet, like he hates himself for even admitting it—

“no.”

your heart stutters.

he walks toward you slowly. not with purpose—just with momentum, like standing still hurts more than anything else.

“i can’t do this,” he mutters. “i keep telling myself not to, and then i see you, and—”

he cuts off. his hands press into his pockets. his head dips.

“i shouldn’t feel like this.”

you breathe in, but you don’t interrupt.

“it’s not just…” he glances at you again. “it’s not just about wanting to fuck you. even though god, i do. i think about it all the time and i hate how much i do.”

your breath catches.

his voice stays low, but heavier now. raw.

“but it’s more than that. i want your voice in my ear. i want your fingers brushing mine when no one’s watching. i want you leaning your head on my shoulder when we’re backstage and i’m trying to act like i’m not falling apart.”

he laughs. it’s not funny. “and it’s so fucking stupid, because we both know this doesn’t work. we can’t work. not in this world. not with who i am. not with who you are. it’s not possible.”

your throat tightens.

he finally steps close enough that your backs are almost touching the wall, and his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them.

“i can’t sleep,” he murmurs before chuckling dryly. “well– more than i usually cant.. i can’t rest. i go through ten hours of filming and i still walked off stage looking for your face. and if you’re not in the room i feel like i’m suffocating.”

your breath catches.

he laughs once. bitter. “this is bad.”

“heeseung, we can't–”

“i know,” he cuts you off gently, eyes soft yet burning with a passion that similarly mirrors yours. “i know… but texting you isn’t enough anymore. calling you at night and pretending it’s casual, pretending i don’t notice how breathless you sound when i say your name… it’s not enough. i can’t keep pretending this is harmless.”

he’s breathing harder now. jaw tight. eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, or maybe something else.

“i need more. i need you near me. with me. i want to touch you when i say things. i want to kiss you when you laugh. i want to put my hand on your back when we walk into a room and not have to worry who sees.”

you’re silent. heart slamming against your chest.

“and i want you,” he adds, voice dropping even lower. “so bad it fucking hurts.”

the words echo in the concrete stairwell.

“i text you and it’s not enough. i call you and it just makes it worse. i watch your videos over and over like a sick fuck because it’s the only version of you i’m allowed to have.”

neither of you move.

heeseung swallows. something sharp in his throat.

“and i can’t stop,” he says, breathless now. “i can’t stop needing you, and i don’t know what to do anymore.”

he reaches out, brushing his fingers against your wrist. not holding. just grounding himself.

his next words are softer. quieter.

“just say something. anything. because if i’m the only one feeling like this…”

he doesn’t finish.

he doesn’t have to.

you can see it in his eyes. “you’re not the only one… you think it’s easy for me not to care about you?”

a beat before he continues.

“i’m tired of holding back. of pretending like you’re just some backstage coincidence. could have more than that… i hate that we have to move secretly and be like this…”

his voice honest. broken. burning.

the space that’s forced between the two of you is straining and nearly unbearable. but required and absolute. you both cannot be together. not in the light with so much eyes monitoring.

“i know it’s messy,” he whispers. “but tell me you don’t want me, and i’ll walk away.”

your lips part and the overwhelming feeling of the consequences of being public eats the back of your mind.

you want him. you want him badly. possibly just as much as he wants you. you want him so much that it’s a terrifying feeling to even admit outloud.

but no words come out.

heeseung steps back first. just a little– like he’s afraid if he stays one second longer, he’ll do something irreversible.

the war between what he wants and what he can’t have. the way he’s already grieving a decision neither of you has made. the guilt. the craving. the way he’s so close to you and still doesn’t touch you like he wants to—like he aches to.

and once that line breaks, there would be no coming back.

you take a slow breath.

you don’t know how long you’ve been standing in the stairwell—heeseung’s hand barely brushing your wrist, his words still bleeding into your skin. even though he just acknowledged this can’t work—you know he’s waiting for you to give him a reason to believe it could.

and then, finally, he speaks again.

quieter, steadier but not calm. never calm.

“after san diego,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “there’s a break before LA. just a few days in california. media stuff, interviews, brand shoots, rehearsals.”

you nod slowly. not sure where he’s going with this.

heeseung swallows. hard. his gaze drops—like it’s easier to say it when he’s not watching you search his eyes for vulnerability.

“my schedule’s full. they’ve got me stacked from morning to night.”

your heart sinks.

but then he adds—“except one.”

your breath catches.

“just one night.” he lifts his eyes again.

“the night before LA’s concert. i’m free after rehearsal around 5pm to relax. i don’t even know how that happened, but that will be the only time no one will be watching me– us.”

“us…” you echo as your stomach twists. finding yourself staring up at him with apprehension.

“if we’re going to do this,” he says, low, raw, real, “if we’re ever going to stop pretending this isn’t killing us… that’s the only night.”

he steps closer. his voice is a whisper now. not because he’s hiding– he’s tired of running.

“i want you,” he breathes. “in every way i’m not supposed to. and i know we can’t keep going like this.”

you stay frozen.

“so if you don’t want this,” he says, softer, “if this isn’t something you want to carry with you after…”

his hand lifts. he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek like it’s the only touch he’ll allow himself.

“please…tell me now and i'll let go.”

your throat is tight.

you don’t speak.

you can’t. because you do want it.

god, you need it, bad.

you want that night more than anything you’ve ever let yourself admit.

even if it can’t happen again. even if it destroys you afterward.

heeseung nods slowly at your silence. his fingers linger a second longer.

and then, you speak up, quietly. “i’ll send the room number.”

he pauses, breath shaky. eyes glittering.

a sound from behind the door makes you jump.

a yell possibly from staff. too close of a call.

heeseung has to go now if he didnt want to get your career ruined by being caught alone with him.

he curses underneath his breath before rushing to your body, pulling you into a quick but steady kiss.

a promise. a secret.

before he leaves, he looks at you one last time—like he already knows what you’re thinking.

“i’ll come to you, baby. i’ll be yours.”

then he’s gone.

and you’re left in a stairwell with your hands shaking, lips tingling, your lungs burning, and only one thought in your head:

one night. just one night

* * * * *

you feel like you’re being dragged across the continent in pieces.

city after city. night after night. too many hours spent powdering faces and checking mic wires while pretending your hands don’t tremble when he walks into the room.

heeseung hasn’t spoken to you since the stairwell.

not directly, anyway.

not in front of anyone.

but you feel him everywhere.

you feel him in the way his eyes track your hands when you prep the others. In the way he lingers near your station before heading to wardrobe. in the way he stands closer during group huddles, even when he doesn’t say a word.

he never asks. never crosses the line again.

but he doesn’t pull back, either.

not like he should.

not like you need him to.

and now—three days before California—you find yourself standing on the side of the road in the middle of fucking Arizona because the crew van broke down.

you’re all en route to venue soundcheck. three vehicles total.

yours—the second van—lost power without warning.

and as luck would have it, the only two staffers in this van were you and heeseung.

it’s quiet now. too quiet.

you sit on the bumper while the driver calls logistics and road side assistance.

heeseung leans against the hot metal siding beside you, one foot up on the curb, arms crossed, hair pulled back in a messy low bun.

he hasn’t looked at you since the van died.

but you can feel it.

the tension, the unspokenness between you is so loud that it hums in your throat.

“well,” he says, finally breaking the silence, “i always wanted to see Arizona.”

you laugh. quiet. dry.

“we’re literally in a gas station parking lot.”

“i’m trying to be romantic,” he mutters.

you glance at him.

he’s watching the sunset over a strip mall. his jaw’s tense. his eyes tired. always so tired.

you often caught your stare lingering over him through the mirrors of the dressing rooms the past few venues. between your channel’s shots that you take of the tour, under very strict guidelines, you hated that you couldn’t help but notice when he’d wrap a blanket that didn’t quite cover his body. never enough to warm him.

you’d purposely wait until his eyes blink open to start talking louder in your videos or to others, even if it didn’t exactly make a difference due to the loud volume from others–it made a difference to you.

his insomnia was barely a thought to other people but to you it was the thing that concerned you the most when the hours ran long and the other members were just as exhausted. you could only imagine how tired his body was.

but he’s doing what he loves. although your support was silent and in the shadows, you wanted to do whatever you could encourage him.

now here he was seated next to you on the bumper of the van, trying to mke you feel better about this inconvenient situation.

he smiles—just barely.

“you don’t have to be romantic heeseung,” you say softly. “you barely slept on the car ride.”

His smile fades.

“I know.”

the quiet stretches again.

the wind kicks up desert dust. the heat clings to your spine. your palms are sweating even though the sun’s low.

heeseung shifts closer. he’s still not touching you, but you can feel the electricity crawl down your arm just from his presence.

“you been thinking about it?” he asks.

your breath catches. you don’t ask what it means. you both know.

he’s talking about the stairwell.

you nod slowly. ‘“too much, i’m afraid.”

He looks down. “yeah, me too.”

You stare ahead at the glowing horizon.

And then—so quietly, so carefully, it almost sounds like guilt:

“i don’t want it to feel like a mistake.” you turn to him with your fingers fidgeting over your sweater.

he’s still looking at the ground. fingers tapping lightly against his elbow.

“i know it’s just one night,” he murmurs, “but if I’m gonna remember it for the rest of my life, I want it to be worth it.”

your throat tightens. you want it to be too…

he finally meets your eyes and that look right there…

it isn’t just lust. it’s longing. hunger. sadness. hope.

the things he can’t say out loud.

the things he won’t ever be allowed to show in public.

“but it’ll be enough,” he says softly. “even if it ruins me a little.”

you don’t reply. there was nothing else to add.

and still—you sadly smile toward him.

it was always going to be worth it.

even if it only lasts one night.

* * *

he’s late. not by much, just an hour.but youre not surprised or even upset. you're used to waiting for his schedule to end before talking on the phone.

you're used to waiting for his schedule to end before talking on the phone.

used to getting a message in the early morning saying he just got back to the dorm while you leave your ringer on to wake up just in time to fall asleep again with him on the line…

what you arent used to, is the sound of a keycard sliding into your hotel room door lock.

the high pitched beep makes your stomach do things it shouldn’t.

he doesn’t say hi—just enters quietly. black hoodie pulled low over his brow, a black mask around his wrist and damp hair still curled around his temple from shower steam.

he kicks off his sneakers, and drops his tour bag on the floor.

it’s dangerous. him being here. this entire escapade is so risky…

you’re still his assigned makeup artist.

still supposed to be professional.

still on a schedule with the rest of the crew.

still so early into the tour.

on the second leg of the tour where there's at least a day's rest for the boys.

one perfect—stolen—night to finally ravish each other.

heeseung steps into the dim light of the hotel room. his eyes scan the way you’re perched at the edge of the bed, legs tucked beneath you, oversized tee riding up the soft curve of your thighs.

you don’t speak.

neither does he.

both of you know what’s about to happen.

he reached behind him– a small click.

he's locked the door.

heeseung’s hoodie’s half-off before he even reaches you. he drops his hoodie to the chair, and turns to look at you like you’ve been keeping something from him.

god, he’s so beautiful.

his voice is quiet when it finally breaks the silence. “you stayed up for me, sweetheart?”

“you’re late,” you murmur, eyes searching his. “was about to fall asleep if i wasnt so anxious about you coming by.”

he does that slow blink he usually does over facetime down at you while listening to you speak.

you haven’t even touched him yet and your stomach is already curling at the edges. heat flickering low behind your belly button. it’s almost humiliating how easy he gets to you.

heeseung says nothing at first. just brushing his thumb along your jawline. not quite fully touching you. “couldn’t get away. manager stuck around too long.”

you hum softly, peering up at him. not upset. not exactly.

just… already anticipating the time you’ll have to give back the second he gets a text or call. a rapid second and this quiet little world between you might soon have to slip into secrecy.

his fingers brush your arm and your breath stalls in your throat.

“stand up,” heeseung says lowly.

you do.

he moves like he’s done this before.

he doesn’t rush. just watches the way your shirt shifts when you exhale. watches your pulse flutter at your throat when he steps in closer.

“look at me.”

you do.

and god, he looks tired.

not just tired—haunted.

maybe from the stage. maybe from the pressure. maybe from holding back the way his hands are already gripping your waist like he’s starving.

“how long do we have?” you ask softly.

“long enough.” his voice is quieter now. "been thinking about this all week," heeseung mutters, lowering his posture to your level. "about you. what you would sound like in person when you fall apart."

his fingers trace the hem of your shirt.

"take this off for me."

you don’t speak.

you obey.

lifting the flimsy fabric over your head and toss it aside, your bare chest on display like you’ve been waiting to be seen. his eyes drop immediately. widen. jaw clenching like he’s trying to memorize the sight before it disappears.

heeseung sucks in a sharp breath and shakes his head like he can’t believe what’s standing in front of him.

“fuck, y/n… you’re so fucking perfect.”

before you can say anything else, his hand curls around your neck—firm, steady, grounding. just letting you know that you’re his, for however long this moment allows.

enough to make you slightly dizzy.

"you gonna let me ruin you tonight, baby?"

you nod.

"words."

"yes."

heeseung leans in closer. "yes, what?"

your breath hitches. “yes, sir.”

his lips curl into a wicked, smug smile. like you’ve handed him the keys to the kingdom.

“good girl.”

his lips crash into yours like he’s punishing you for making him wait. tongue hot, needy, searching. his hands roam everywhere—your sides, your ass, the soft dip between your ribs. every place he couldn’t touch on camera. every place he’s only imagined in the dark while whispering your name into his sheets.

his thigh presses between yours and you moan into his mouth.

he pulls back enough to speak. “on the bed.”

you move without thinking. your thighs rub together as you crawl onto the mattress, nerves frayed and clenching around nothing. he follows, crawling over you slowly, shirt finally pulled off and tossed behind him.

“god, i love how shy you get when i tell you what to do,” heeseung breathes against your mouth. “your brain just melts from being ordered around doesn’t it, baby?”

“heeseung—”

“uh-uh,” he levels you with his eyes, thumbing over your bottom lip. “try again.”

“…sir.” you correct yourself.

heeseung’s hum of approval brings another wave of heat over your skin. “you’re all mine tonight, you understand me?” although he's desperate and clinging to you like you’ll dissolve into thin air, his eyes are searching. aware of what’s happening— gaze fixed and analyzing every inch of your body to etch into his memory.

“let me pretend you’re mine and i’m yours completely tonight…”

This is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

your chest aches with a feeling similar to fear and anxiety but the burning sensation of subspace dizziness jars you back into focus.

”do you understand me, y/n?” he demands, firmly— desperately that if you weren’t being held so strongly you would hear his tone as a plea rather than a command.

you manage a nod.

because if you open your mouth, you’ll beg.

not to fuck you— which you wanted badly.

that; you’ll beg him not to leave.

no time to pump the breaks.

it starts with him on his knees.

mouth hot on your thighs, then higher—lips ghosting over your underwear before he yanks them down with a sharp tug and groans when he sees how soaked you already are.

“so fucking wet. is this all for me?” he asks, mouth hovering right over your clit.

“yes,” you breathe.

“of course it is. no one else gets to see you like this. no one else gets to taste.”

and god, he does.

he devours.

his tongue is slow, precise, practiced. he moans into you like you’re the one feeding him.

you whimper, thighs trembling as you grind down on his face without meaning to.

“needy little thing,” heeseung growls against your cunt, dragging two fingers through the mess he’s making. “can’t sit still, can you? bet you’d let me eat you out for hours if i don’t stop.”

you’re panting. hands in his hair, legs shaking.

your vision goes white when he curls two fingers deep inside you.

“that’s it. ride my fucking fingers. show me how desperate you are.”

you cry out—loud, shameless.

he pulls back, wipes his mouth on his wrist, and smirks.

“so fucking messy already. you’re gonna soak the sheets, for me?”

“please,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re begging for.

“please, what?”

“please, sir… please— i need, please, fuck me.”

heeseung blinks like his world’s tipped over, then drags you up from the bed like you weigh nothing.

“since you asked so nicely, like a good girl...”

he kisses you. a pure deep, open-mouthed kiss.

his tongue tangles with yours and his hand grips the back of your neck while he walks you backward toward the bed. you fall onto it in a tangle of limbs, and he follows with slow, calculated movements.

once he strips, you can practically feel your saliva collect in your mouth.

he’s bigger than you imagined.

the screen definitely didnt do him any justice.

his cock standing strong, flushed, and leaking at the tip.

you make a sound—something between a gasp and a whimper—and heeseung laughs, low and dark.

“you think you can take it like a good girl for me?” he asks, fist wrapped around his cock as he strokes it slowly, other hand sliding up your torso before wrapping firmly around your throat. “or are you gonna cry for me like you did on the phone?”

you nod so fast your vision spins.

heeseung’s hand doesn’t leave your neck.

not when he’s pushing you down into the mattress.

not when he’s grinding his cock between your slick folds, teasing you, splitting you open slowly like you’ll break if he doesn’t take his time.

and god—he loves that idea.

“you feel that, baby?” his voice is low, ragged, teeth gritted as he nudges the thick head of his cock inside you. “so fucking tight. can barely get in.”

you’re already gasping. legs spread wide, thighs trembling, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other gripping his forearm where it’s curled around your neck.

“so big, fuck—heeseung—”

“sir,” he growls, snapping his hips forward, forcing you to take more. “that’s not what you call me, sweetheart. i wont fucking remind you again.”

“sir—sir, i’m sorry, i—” your words melt into a moan as he bottoms out, cock buried to the hilt, filling you so deep your vision whites out at the edges.

“yeah?” heeseung’s eyes burn into yours. “you sorry for being a dumb, fucked out slut for me?”

you nod frantically, brain barely keeping up with the stretch.

“then say it,” he demands. “say what you are.”

you whimper, hands scrambling to hold onto something—him, the sheets, your sanity.

“i’m your dumb little slut, sir.”

heeseung smiles.

a slow, wicked thing that doesn’t reach his eyes—because his eyes are busy watching you come undone beneath him.

“fuck, i love hearing that pretty mouth...”

his hand tightens just a little around your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your head swim. enough to remind you who you belong to.

he starts moving then.

slow, deliberate thrusts, the weight of his cock dragging against every nerve inside you.

your body arches under him, already teetering on the edge from the stretch and pressure and the way his grip never leaves your throat.

“you love being used like this, huh?” heeseung pants, sweat beading at his temple. “love being fucked stupid on my cock?”

you can’t even speak.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a desperate moan.

“god, you’re so tight baby—fuck. this pussy was made for me.”

you mewl, head falling back against the pillow.

“say it.”

“it's—“ his thrusts interrupt you. “i’m made for you…” you choke out, tears pricking your eyes from the stretch.

“damn, right you are baby… made just for me to use and abuse…” heeseung presses his forehead to yours, hips moving slowly. so deep. so slow. like he’s savoring you.

“you’re so, so good, babygirl. such a good fucking girl. all mine, yeah?”

“yes, sir.”

“you like being fucked like this? stretched open and stuffed full of my cock?”

“yes—yes, i do—”

“i can feel you clenching, sweetheart. you gonna cum already?”

“i—i don’t know—”

“look at you.” his hand slides up to your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks until you’re forced to hold his gaze. “already cock-drunk. not even halfway through.”

you’re crying now—just a little.

tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as your legs tremble and your cunt squeezes around him like your body knows it won’t be able to take much more.

but he’s not stopping.

you could swear you see a flash of a smile etch his face before your vision blurs with more tears.

heeseung pulls all the way out, then slams back in hard enough to knock a cry from your lips.

“you don’t cum until i say,” he warns. “you understand me, dumb girl?”

“yes— yes, sir! i’ll try—”

“no, you won’t try.” he cuts you off, voice sharp. “you’ll obey. you want to be my good girl, you take everything i give you. don’t you dare fucking cum yet.”

your nails dig into his bicep, your thighs squeezing around his waist as your body bucks beneath him.

he doesn’t slow down.

in fact, he presses your thighs apart forcefully with his much wider frame.

he fucks you through it—deep, punishing thrusts that leave you twitching and sobbing, pleasure building so tight it hurts.

“so fucking wet,” heeseung grunts. “you hear that? listen to how soaked you are for me… messy little toy.”

your cheeks burn.

your body’s trembling uncontrollably now, tears rolling faster, mouth falling open in a broken cry as he keeps going.

and going.

and going.

“sir, please—please i’m gonna—”

“don’t.”

“i can’t—”

heeseung slaps your thigh. hard.

you scream—your cunt clenching so tight he chokes on a moan.

“fuck! you’re such a fucking brat,” he growls. “can’t even follow simple instructions. guess, i’ll have to fuck obedience into you.”

he changes the angle—grips your hips tight, drags your ass flush into his lap and starts pounding into you, fast and brutal. your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

your eyes roll back.

heeseung grabs your chin again, forcing your eyes on him.

“keep your fucking eyes open. you're going to watch me while you fucking break.”

he fucks you harder. rougher. hands gripping your hips as he slams into you with enough force to knock the air from your lungs.

your weak arms do nothing to stop him from pummeling into your helpless body.

“cmon baby, take it. take all of me.”

you’re sobbing now, gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing tethering you to earth.

your orgasm hits you like a train.

oh, fuck.

it tears through you in white-hot pulses, your mouth open in a silent scream, legs shaking, cunt fluttering violently around him.

“you didn’t ask,” he snarls, still fucking you through it. this time gripping your face hard. “again.”

your core reflexifly tries to shove him out, to spasm and clench more than what his girth was allowing you to.

“oh no, you don’t.” heeseung laugh isn’t humorous— it’s angry. he pushes down on your lower abdomen and pins you in place with his dick shoved deeper inside. “greedy fucking brat. didn’t even ask to cum.”

you’re sobbing now—overstimulated, your body locked in place, every nerve ending raw and trembling.

heeseung doesn’t stop.

he doesn’t even slow down.

“don’t think we’re done yet,” he pants. “i’m not finished with you, baby. not until you give me another.”

“sir, i—i can’t—” still drowing in your high.

“no. you will.” he growls. “you’ll give me another like the good little slut you are. i want to feel you fucking gush all over me. cum.”

he slaps your clit. not hard but enough to tip you over the abyss.

you scream.

and then you cum again—harder, messier, your body seizing under him.

heeseung curses, hips stuttering.

“fuck—you’re clenching so tight—“ he throws his head back, before sucking in a sharp breath— lunging forward. “oh, fuck— i’m gonna cum! where do you want it?”

you’re too gone to answer.

“where, baby?” he growls, hand tightening again around your throat. “you want me to make a mess all over you?”

a breathless gasp leaves your lips. his hand tightens its grip. “answer me.”

“yes—sir—please, please, cum—”

he lets out a sound you’ve never heard before. half-growl, half-groan, pure desperation as he slams into you one final time.

heeseung groans—loud, long—and pulls out just in time, spilling hot and heavy across your stomach, breathing hard as he collapses over you. holding himself up with shaking arms.

you shudder, gasping as your body registers the shots of warmth over your sticky skin.

heeseung breathes, face nestled into your neck for support.

“you did such a good job baby…” he whispers. his forehead pressed to yours, while his hand’s still gently curled around your throat.

“my good girl…”

you’re gone.

wrecked.

and for a moment… all you can do is let him hold you there. his fingers smoothing over your aching muscles. your bodies tangled, sweaty, soaked, and clinging to the last thread of something neither of you can name.

for a while, there’s only the sound of your breaths.

then the silence creeps in.

heeseung’s hand finds yours.

you stare at the ceiling.

you feel the reality start to settle in again. the walls of the hotel room close around you.

the clock ticking on the nightstand reminds you this is temporary.

you turn your head to look at him.

he’s already looking at you.

and for a second… you let yourself believe he’ll say it. something more.

but he doesn’t.

he just squeezes your hand.

once.

hard.

then he presses a kiss to your shoulder and says, “you mind cuddling for a bit before…”

he doesnt need to finish his sentence.

you nod. because you already know—

he can’t stay.

that makes it hurt worse when you move against the most logical thing to do; which is leave immediately—and snuggle into his warmth.

because that’s all you can do.

you had this much. this has to be enough, even if it doesn't feel like it ever will be.

you’ve both been fantasizing about this.

and now that it’s happened, you finally understand what it means to have something under your skin.

something that won’t leave.

even when he does.

you’re the first to move.

it’s not much—just a shift of your arm, the turn of your head, the way your chest rises unevenly as you catch your breath.

heeseung doesn’t say anything at first.

he just lies there. facing you. one hand playing with your hair, the other still lightly grazing your thigh like he doesn’t know how to stop touching you.

you glance at him through your lashes. everything feels too still. too quiet. your body’s warm, messy, and sore in ways that make your heart squeeze.

you wish it was enough.

but the seconds keep ticking.

and you know how this ends.

heeseung finally exhales, his deep colored eyes drawing you in.

"you okay?" he asks, voice hoarse from effort. from restraint.

you nod, not trusting your voice.

his fingers find yours in the sheets and squeeze.

you squeeze back.

no declarations. just touches. just these small, impossible moments stitched together by hands that tremble a little more each time they let go.

you want to say something.

want to ask if this means anything to him.

but you don’t.

because you already know what needs to be said and done.

because he’s lee fucking heeseung.

because you’re not supposed to share a bed with him, much less talk to him outside of work.

and because you’ve spent the last few years building something his fans could ruin for you with one single headline.

“i should shower,” you say quietly, the words sticking in your throat.

heeseung’s hands fall away from your body reluctantly.

you miss it instantly.

you sit up, pulling the sheets with you. the ache between your legs is still fresh. raw. a reminder that what just happened was real—so painfully real—and already slipping through your fingers.

he doesn’t stop you when you move toward the bathroom.

but you catch him watching you go.

his jaw clenched. his eyes tired.

the light clicks on. the water runs. and for a second, it’s just you staring at yourself in the mirror.

your hair is a mess. your lips are kiss-swollen. your chest is marked where his mouth lingered too long.

you look ruined.

but not in the way you expected.

when you come out wrapped in a towel, he’s already half-dressed. sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand.

his expression is unreadable.

your stomach drops.

“manager’s asking where i am,” he says.

you nod.

"you should go."

heeseung doesn’t resist or make a move to leave urgently.

time lags.

he just nods while rising up from the bed slowly.

he watches you find your shirt on the floor like it hasn’t already been peeled off of your body before you both shared tonight so passionately.

“you’ll be at rehearsal for the day 2 concert tomorrow?” he finally says.

“yeah.”

a beat.

then softer: “you okay?”

you nod. but you don’t smile.

because the ache between your legs is nothing compared to the one settling in your chest.

you’ll see him again tomorrow.

you’ll have to be around him all afternoon before he performs in the evening.

you’ll touch up his foundation like you weren’t falling apart underneath him just hours earlier.

he looks at you. really looks.

eyes glossed over with unspoken anguish that you can only reflect back with a sad smile.

and for a second—just one second—you swear he wants to say something that might shatter your world and piece you back together..

all he says is:

“you make it really hard to walk away like this, you know that?”

you’re still smiling, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “had to make it worth your while. even just for a little bit..”

he flinches.

just barely.

and you hate yourself for noticing it.

you step closer, pulling on your shirt from earlier, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “it’s okay, heeseung. this was never supposed to be more than a moment.”

he stands, towering over you now, eyes searching your face like he’s memorizing it.

"you don’t believe that."

"doesn’t matter what i believe. our jobs—us. won’t work. no matter how much the fans ship us."

he hesitates. like he wants to say something that would undo it all. that would make this feel like the beginning instead of the end.

his phone buzzes loudly in his hand again. you dont need to look to know who’s calling.

“see?” you press your lips into a sad, tight lipped smile. “duty calls.”

heeseung sighs, eyes filled with a million words that you could easily decipher as longing, regret, dispair.

there’s a weight on both of your shoulders that neither of you can name out loud. not at this moment. not when you both feel how viciously swept up the situations gotten the both of you.

you walk him to the door anyway.

because that’s what you do when someone doesn’t belong to you.

its the right thing to do.

you both knew this moment would come after your short lived fling.

and just before he leaves, he leans in and plants a kiss on your lips.

once. soft. slow.

like an apology that comes too late.

when he pulls away, his voice cracks just a little.

“sleep well, sweetheart.”

“goodnight, ace.” you add nothing else after that.

because that’s what this is.

a goodbye.

a moment.

a secret.

something that doesn’t exist outside these walls.

but god—you’ll remember it.

you sit on the edge of the bed after he’s gone, the scent of his cologne still clinging to your sheets.

you wonder if he’ll think of you when he wakes up tomorrow in another hotel room or when he’s back on stage with ten thousand voices screaming his name

you wonder if he’ll miss the way you whispered his name like a secret meant only for him.

most of all… you wonder if you’ll ever be able to touch someone else again without thinking of the way he said,

let me pretend you’re mine and i’m yours completely tonight…

and how, just for a night—

you let yourselves believe the illusion.

a secret only the two of you will remember and seal away for good.

yet… you will never forget the way he looked at you like you were the only real thing he’s had in years.

and maybe, for now… that’s enough.

[ e n d ]

chapter 2 << chapter 3 ( final )

m i k a🌷: god this was insane to write, i had to pace around a couple times before actually continuing. MY FREAKING HEART mELTED…. may or may not continue the story in a different series, depending on how well this does;)

if you’re looking forward to more stories like this in the future send me a message, ask, or private message me to be added to a main taglist to get notified of future works by me. i’ve got my masterlists pinned in my bio if you want to check more of my work out! (some links don’t work since i changed usernames… but if you seach “masterist” most of them pop up!)

[vanillaxbambi]

AYO?!?!? I WROTE THAT?!?!?!?

|| Lee Donghyuck ||

— Sneak Peek ( m. ) —

Contains: male masturbation, spicy best friend haechan, STAMINA!hyuck😤

Word Count: 0.8k

Mika🌻: hope there isn’t too much errors… it was only supposed to be a short drabble… my bad.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

You can’t believe this sight.

His dick was in his hand pumping rapidly. Eyes closed and lips taut in a silent moan. His pants pooled at his feet as his shirt is hung over the counter of the restroom.

You can’t believe that you’re best friend would find the time on this trip to pleasure himself but you find that you can’t move your legs to give him his privacy. Instead, you watch.

You watch him throw his head back and listen to him whine from the pleasure he’s inflicting over himself.

You couldn’t help but think about how nicely it would be to wrap your hands and lips around him to provide him that same pleasure. It’s a crazy thought to think that you would want that considering he’s been your best friend for so long. His muscles flexing underneath the light of the restroom as enough to make you press your legs together.

You bite your lip, hiding behind the cracked door as he cums over his thighs. The white release seeping out and his body heaving against the sink as he comes down from his high.

“You just gonna stand there and watch?” Donghyuck’s half lidded eyes peer at you with a glare that you can only describe as lust. Melting you instantly where you stood.

“I—I thought—” He chuckles at your attempt in explaining yourself. A horrible job at that if he had the energy to talk about it.

“You think I left the door open in a rush to jack off?” Haechan’s wrist lazily pumps before he tilts his head down towards the other one between his legs. “I’m not that reckless. C’mere.”

Your body obeys faster than your thoughts can tell you to stop—think about about you’re about to do you, dumb—

“That’s right, babydoll…” Donghyuck gathers your hair with a swift flick of his wrist. It’s surprises you when you can clearly witness his cock twitch back to life although he’s just released all over himself. His hand guiding you down towards his messy lap. “Take your tongue out and have a taste of me.”

Your mind goes stupid blank. You find yourself parting your lips when you find a string of cum attempting to leak from his exposed thighs. Thankful to your soft tongue, it finds no escape. The saltiness of his cum jars your taste buds and the pheromones take over your senses.

While adjusting yourself comfortably onto your knees, the length of his dick stands tall right below your chin. With encouragement from the hand wrapped around your hair, his angry, pink tip makes it’s way past your lips and into the warm cavern of your mouth.

Soon your throat begins to open up in ways that are so painfully delicious. Donghyuck’s honey textured voice moans with such an addicting tone that you want to keep pleasuring your best friend. His hips slowly but harshly meet your lips in efforts to gain more friction. Throwing his head back and gently laid against the wall to support himself from completely falling apart at your disposal.

“Fuck!” He shoots his cum into your mouth without much warning. Chest heaving and mouth covered in his milky release.

Wasting no time, Donghyuck lifts you onto the counter, fingers working quickly to remove your annoying jeans. “We’re not done until you’re begging me to stop.”

Your widened eyes amuse Donghyuck right to the third awakening pulse of his dick. You pant from the physical exertion and lack of oxygen now rushing into your lungs. To the say the very least, you were amazed at his unexpected endurance to keep going despite unloading two thick spurts of cum.

Donghyuck lowly chuckles. “It takes more than two rounds to satiate me, princess.” An alarmed moan leaves your throat as you’ve come to find that you were soaked to the point of easy access granted to his two fingers.

He hisses loudly from the squelch of your pussy. “Sounds like your pussy’s a little needy for release, baby…”

A forceful curl of his fingers into your g-spot. A flash of stars across your vision. Then more waves of endless pleasure. A third finger. Donghyuck growls as your body convulses from his minor skill of pleasing you.

“That’s a good girl. Cum all over me. Get your best friend messy in your release.”

🌻

~mika

All Rights Reserved by marigold-sunflower. Any reposting or modification on other sites will not be tolerated.

[vanillaxbambi]

still thinking about this anon and my promise to write more cnc content… reblogging for accountability sake hehehehe

— m i k a 🌷

I'm looking forward to your cnc fics if you decide to write some

there's definitely some in the drafts, i just need to complete them🤣~

🌻

~mika

[vanillaxbambi]

d y n a m i c s t h a t i l o v e .

sad boy x happy girl

introvert x extrovert

independent woman in streets but submissive princess in the sheets x charming golden retriever with extremely dominant tendencies

confident flirt x clueless puppy

flustered one x one the enjoys watching the flustered one get flustered

words of affirmation hungry x endless praise giver

physical touch starved lover x one who hates physical touch except for with said lover

scatter brained goof x one who admires connecting the dots

pathetic loner man x extroverted social butterfly woman

analytical thinker x emotional lover

commitment issue sweetheart x devoted grump

acts of service lover x words of affirmation lover

“i hate you” x “yeah? you love me”

“nothing’s wrong” x “talk to me, baby.”

likes to argue x gets frustrated easily

“i’m not scared of you.” x “you should be.”

artist x muse

dominant younger oc x submissive older oc (appropriate age gaps okay.)

barista x customer

baddie x nerd/geek/loser

princess x peasant/knight

slow BURN YEEAARNNINGGG

i have more but these are just from the top of my head~

[vanillaxbambi]

+*#behind the camera — ch. 2 || lee heeseung

+*pairing: childhood crush-> idol!heeseung x make-up artist!femreader

+* wc: 6k

+*contains: phone sex(? more like a very suggestive and dominant!heeseung talking hot and bothered while reader is a flustered mess), praise, degradation if you squint, and guided orgasm. mature language. mdni.

synopsis: forget the NDA, heeseung's reaching out. blatantly, flirting and offering more than just simple fan-service. your childhood crush isnt just calling you to catch up. he's international enhypen all star idol, lee heeseung— ready to show you, famous youtube mua, that he's no longer the little 13 year old boy you rejected on a field trip.

m i k a 🌷: when i tell u how much this man suits this scenario, i might explode. in my mind, i will always see him dating a fan irl. like bsfr, i need to see him with someone famous or an engene.

🎀taglist: No pressure to you beautiful flowers to read at all! I love youuuu🌷💝 @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme @sagegreenhairclip @lveegsoi @srhnyx @simj4ke @jiyeons-closet @hxonieverse

couldnt tag :( @ninistranaut

chapter 1 << chapter 2 >> chapter 3 (final)

m a s t e r l i s t .

chapter 2.

your phone blares loudly with the facetime ringer you’ve specifically set for him. although you've preemptively prepared yourself by setting a very distinctive ringtone for his contact… it still makes you want to jump out of your skin.

you realize that he isn’t allowed to date and this is probably the only form of communication with the opposite sex that he is allowed to have.

no one in the company was going to ever know that you have heeseung’s private number. especially when he’s entrusted you to keeping this a secret.

on top of violating the NDA, by having his personal number, you were genuinely bargaining more consequences than your careers could handle.

The ringing jars you back into the moment, with your finger accepting the call. Immediately you can recognize that he’s in a single recording room. The one that he is usually seen talking to engene on Weverse.

His eyes dart around the screen, seemingly adjusting something before landing his full attention on you. “Hi, y/n.”

It’s nearly as jarring as the first time you heard his voice in your studio. His voice sounded even better coming through the speakers of your phone.

“Wow.” You start with a smile. “I feel like I just won a fancall.”

“Yeah?” Oh. God. “What should oppa do for you?”

Your face twists as you cringe. “I will never ever call you that. We’re literally the same age.”

”I’m a few months older than you. That counts.” He begins to lean forward and adjust the lighting on his desk.

“No, actually though,” You catch your thought before you forget to ask him later. “Do you actually like doing fancalls?” You fiddle with the corner of your phone’s case. ”You seem to flirt with every single fan that you interact with.”

“I have to.” He sets the phone up in a very familiar position to how he does his Weverse lives. “I’m engene’s boyfriend. I play to everyone’s fantasies and little requests.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure why but that doesn’t quite sit well with you. “Is that why you were so blatantly flirting with me after I told you that I was a fan?”

“Hmm,” He actually considers before answering. “Yes, and no.”

”It can’t be both.”

“Well, It’s more of a force of habit. Occupational.” He explains the first part. “But I can’t lie when I say that I wanted to mess with you in case you recognized me at all.”

”Anyone would recognize you.” You also prop your phone up against something. “I didn’t think that you recognized me at all.”

”A man never forgets a woman who rejected him.” Heeseung’s voice drops into a slightly serious tone. “Do you not like eye contact?”

This again.

You realize the whole time that you haven’t once looked directly at your phone. Mainly just around the room and at your hands.

”I think it’s cute how shy you get around me when around others you're so confident and charming.” He points out while seemingly typing on his pc.

Music begins to play; he finally sits back after finding the right song for the background.

“Be honest,” he says suddenly. “You’re used to being flirted with.”

“I’m not–”

“I saw the episode of Wooyoung from Ateez complimenting your eyes while you were applying his foundation.” Heeseung levels his eyes with what seems to be your line of sight. Searching for your reaction. “You seemed to like it.”

“It’s not that I liked it… I was being engaging and polite.” You fixate on your finger tips and what they could be touching to keep yourself distracted. “Lets not forget that you’re a professional boyfriend, and you’re just an occupational flirt. I deal with men like you regularly.”

“Oh, Yeah? You still answered a facetime call from a man like me anyway.” Heeseung crosses his arms, clearly amused.

If he was just going to make you feel like your head was going to explode, you thought it would probably be smart to cut the conversation short. “Why did you facetime me, heeseung?”

“I missed you. It’s been a whole week since I last saw you.” Heeseung pulls out a samsung phone from his pocket. “We’re viral, you know?”

“I saw.” You smile, warmth spreading over your cheeks. “Apparently engenes are shipping us with each other. The edits on tiktok are pretty good. Speaking of flirting, I was hoping that my team cut out a few parts. Like you mentioning our past…” Until now, you haven’t sat and read through the comment section of your video together. The very reason being that you wished you could entirely ignore all the negative feedback and death threats sent by sasaengs.

“Yeah, but now they know what I look like when I’m showing interest in someone.” Heeseung lifts a knowing brow. “Feeds a lot of fantasies.”

”Oh trust. They have plenty of those videos way before you and I interacted.”

“You keep up with my content like that, y/n?” His brow flicks up in amusement.

“Oh please, I’m a k-beauty makeup artist. Anyone who's keeping up with kpop is bound to get all of your trends and viral videos in their feed.”

Heeseung just grins, not even pretending to deny it. “Regret rejecting me now that I’m famous?”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. I almost declined.”

“Almost,” he echoes, that same smug glint flickering in his eyes. “But you didn’t.”

There’s a pause. The kind of silence that isn’t awkward—just heavy. Familiar. You can hear him exhale, the faint shift of his hoodie when he leans back in the studio chair. His mic must still be on, because the low hum of audio equipment buzzes faintly beneath the slow r&b song playing in the background.

“I didn’t tell you this when we saw each other last,” Heeseung clears his throat a bit before continuing. “but while you were touching my face with your soft little hands, I was trying so hard not to keep staring at your lips. You’ve got such pretty shaped ones…”

You make a sound between a laugh and a groan, pressing your face into your hands. “Heeseung.”

“What? I’m just saying.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and it sends heat straight to your ears. “You were concentrating so hard enough to start pouting. It was cute.”

“I was working.”

“I could see that And I was trying to behave.”

You finally glance at the screen. He’s watching you again—of course he is. Arms crossed, mouth tilted just slightly at the corner, like he’s waiting to see what expression you’ll make next.

“That’s funny, because it felt like the opposite,” you say, sitting up straighter. “You turned my makeup video into your own version of a dating show.”

His brow lifts, tongue slightly poking his cheek with a faint smile. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

You pause. You really, really shouldn’t engage. But the pull is magnetic, and you’re tired of pretending you’re not curious too.

“I didn’t mind,” you admit quietly. “I just didn’t know how to respond.”

Heeseung tilts his head at that. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt. “You’re not supposed to talk to me like that. Not on camera. Not when we have a hundred people waiting for either of us to mess up.”

His smile fades just slightly—not gone, just thinner. “But we’re not on camera now.”

Your chest tightens a little at that. He’s right. This isn’t staged. There are no lights, no cameras, no mics hidden in lapels. Just your phone screen and the boy you once lied to because the truth would’ve hurt too much to carry with you across the ocean.

“I didn’t think we’d ever talk again after I left Korea,” you say, surprising even yourself with the softness in your voice.

Heeseung leans forward now, elbows resting on the desk in front of him. “I thought about messaging you for years,” he says simply. “But I figured if you wanted to talk, you would’ve at least messaged me through kakao.”

“I did remember you,” you say instantly. Then, quieter: “I just wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

He lets that hang in the air.

It stretches between you—ten years of what-ifs, buried under makeup brushes, video thumbnails, and late-night music recordings. you want to say something else to not make it sound as pathetic as it came out but you cant.

“You think I would forget my first one sided crush?”

That’s the thing. It was far from that.

“It wasn’t.”

“What wasn’t?”

“Your crush.” You clarify, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I didn’t reject you because you weren’t my type.”

Heeseung blinks before a slow smile spreads across his face. “I figured. You left not too long after the trip.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as if to contain his thoughts.

“I still remember everything.” Heeseung says. “You were the first person who didn’t care that i was just … really good at things. You know, before enhypen. There was a time that I didn’t have enough money for the vending machine outside of the practice rooms and you ended up handing me some change while walking by with your friends.” Heeseung chuckles to himself as if he replayed it in his mind. “You were so sweet to everyone.”

You swallow, the words catching somewhere in your chest. There’s a pinch in your throat that feels suspiciously like nostalgia trying to become something else.

He continues, but gentler this time. “I didn’t call to freak you out. I just… wanted to see you without everyone else around.”

“This feels a bit too… vulnerable.” You confess.

“I know,” he murmurs. “ I like it.”

The silence returns.

But this time, it doesn’t feel so heavy.

Just a little too comfortable. A little too warm for something that’s supposed to be professional.

“I should go,” you say, but you don’t move to end the call.

“I know,” he echoes again, eyes still on you. “But you won’t.”

Your thumb hovers over the red end button for a second too long. And then finally, you say:

“Goodnight, Heeseung.”

He tilts his head like he’s memorizing how you look—like he wants to pause this exact moment and tuck it somewhere safe. “Goodnight, y/n.”

The call ends.

And your apartment is suddenly too quiet.

Your fingers still curl around the phone like he’s still on the other end.

And that stupid ringtone?

You don’t even consider changing it.

a week slips through like sand. you arent sure why but whenever olive or rose begin to mention the new shift your career will be taking from this point forward… you hate to think that the time you’ll spend with heeseung will be temporary.

the sting doesn’t exactly register with you as much when the work and planning begins to pile up and you have to force yourself to compartmentalize your emotions away from this job.

Hybe sends you more information about the tour dates, concept meetings, and more non-disclosure contracts that legally bind you to shutting the fuck up about anything that will ever happen between you and any of the enhypen members.

it’s been a week since your forbidden facetime with international idol lee heeseung. most of your interactions are limited to brushing shoulders in the busy halls during promotions, 3 second long eye contact in the office floor, and brief greetings when leaving from signing a few final disclosures.

today was different.

heeseung manages to catch your eye in the cafeteria before mouthing, “I’ll call you.”

you hate to hold him to his word but the butterflies in your stomach can’t tell a difference.

lee heeseung wanted to call you.

you nod with a blank look on your face. something stuck between surprise and panic. this, makes him chuckle— biting his stupid lip again as he scans you up and down before leaving the cafeteria.

your thighs instinctively press together from the rush of anticipation that flushes through your body.

god, he hasn’t done anything. fucking get it together.

that night you’re trying hard not to stare at the time.

6pm. nothing.

7pm. silence.

8pm… a promotional advertisement from olive young and a message from Olive asking if you were free this weekend to get drinks.

you figured you needed a distraction. so you call Olive to bide time.

it’s not long until you’re laughing and getting unready with her. she’s cracking jokes about what might happen on the tour and what the other make up artists will say while she’s gone.

frankly, olive is the only person in the world who would understand what you’re going through and exactly what you’re risking if you keep allowing this boundary line to fade into the background with heeseung.

olive was never one to care about rules and regulations anyway. “You only have one life, girl.” olive squirts micellular water onto a cotton round. “If you’re out here getting cozy with a childhood friend; who just happens to be Enhypen’s Lee Heeseung, that’s your business.”

her nonchalant seriousness makes you laugh as you apply toner to your clean, bare face. “it’s a bit embarrassing liv,” You sigh, patting the toner onto your cheeks. “my fucking pussy clenched just from him looking me up and down today.”

“Your what?!” olive’s mouth hangs open.

”I’m deadass.”

“He did what?!?!” she starts giggling. “i love this man for you.”

“oh stop, he’s probably just flirting with me because he feeds off of the attention.”

“Oh shut up, bitch. You keep giving it to him too.” She deadpans.

“I can’t ever live around you, can i?”

olive pouts at the screen with a little kiss. “not when you’re acting like you don’t want to have this man fuck you against—“

your phone rings.

his contact name pops up.

FaceTime Video Lee Heeseung...

“oh shit. that’s him isn’t it?” you can hear the smile in olives voice as you stare at the incoming call.

“fuck!” you panic, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. you’ve taken off your make up, your skincare routine is almost done, and you’ve got on this ridiculously huge Sanrio character headband to keep your hair from getting wet. “I look busted right now!”

“I’m hanging up now, girl! good luck! love you!” Olive squeals before hanging up.

The call ends and you’re scrambling to get out of your restroom.

it’s still ringing.

you take a glance at yourself in your wall mirror in your room.

shit.

you’re in your bra, head band still on top of your head, you looked bare. stripped down. not a touch of make up on your face.

the ringing stops.

then your phone pings.

Lee Heeseung you always shower this late or are you actually sleeping?

Lee Heeseung got home from practice. call me back if you’re up, y/n.

you throw on a large tee, gripping your phone as you go back and forth on actually hitting the facetime icon.

Lee Heeseung you looked so fucking good today by the way.

you hit the icon right as the message banner shows on your screen.

oh my god.

heeseung’s face appears on your screen and he looks as if he just freshly showered. hair slightly wet, face clean, yet his eyes seem tired.

“there she is.” Heeseung’s voice fills your ears with the huskiness of his busy day. “you look cute.”

you see yourself on the screen. you look out of sorts. caught off guard and entirely not in your element.

“you just take off your make-up, y/n?”

you were still wearing your sanrio headband.

he chuckles lowly and from what you can make out, he seems to be sat at a desk. if you weren’t still flustered from his text, you would immediately start going on about how he really needs to get actual furniture and decorate like someone actually lives in his room.

all that comes out is: “yeah.”

“you okay?” heeseung is mildly amused but you can’t help but notice that his eyes blink slow and heavy.

“just didn’t expect you to call so late.” you slip the headband from your head and ruffle your hair a bit. ”you look tired.”

“i said i would call.” he ruffles his hair as well. “i’m usually pretty tired after long practice days— insomnia still keeps me up most of the time though, no matter how exhausted i am.”

“you didn’t have to call me.” you feel your heart tug a little. the same way that it did the first time when he fell asleep in your make up chair. “you need to relax and rest if you want any sleep tonight.”

”i’m relaxing just fine being on the phone with you, y/n.” heeseung leans back in his computer chair. face glowing from his monitor screen and what’s playing on it. “i missed you since our last conversation.”

“woah,” you lift a brow. “i would stop right there, heeseung, you sound like you’re using your professional boyfriend skills on me.”

“if thats what you want me to be for you sweetheart, then i can be whatever you want.”

the nickname drops like a bomb and you hate that your face feels warmer by the rising second of him staring at you as if he didn’t just rock your world.

“heeseung…”

“what? you answered the phone looking so cute with your sanrio headband on, huge shirt, bare face, and don't expect me to say something about it?”

“you just can’t stop, can you?” you try to deflect, knowing that you’re looking a mess.

“i like seeing how flustered you get.”

you feel like a simple minded fangirl.

the shy, talented but popular boy he once was is long gone. replaced with this suave, confident and flirtatious man. the difference jarred you. you wanted to be the type who bounces back from cute little flirty jabs but coming from him was a different level.

you get the fantasy.

why fans purchase hundreds of albums to get the opportunity to have a mere 2 minute long phone call.

and yet, here he was offering his time to you for free.

his eyes blink slower and his smile doesn’t necessarily meet his eyes.

the butterflies in your stomach stop once you realize that you don’t actually want this version of him.

this was something he always does. something he has to do.

flirting with engenes and appealing to every request. never actually being himself and constantly bending to the will of the fans.

”hey so…” you find yourself starting to say something that you might regret. but the greater the risk the bigger reward. “you really don’t have to do that with me, heeseung.”

he pauses and you can see that he adjusts in his seat. “am i making you uncomfortable?”

“no, its actually very flattering and sweet,” you admit. “but you’re off the clock. you don’t need to give me fan service.”

heeseung’s brows shoot up before a slow smile spreads to his face, this time it meets his eyes. “its more natural for me to talk to fans like this.”

“im not just a fan." you frown.

heeseungs eyes soften and he leans back into his chair. "i know...you're right." he bites his lip slowly before taking a sharp breath. "sorry im tired and im just doing what i've practiced. occupationa—"

"occupational habit." you complete. musing his sentence with a sense of understanding. " I get it."

"how should we talk to each other then y/n?"

"like im not looking for an interaction. like im just a friend who enjoys your company and not your fame." you suggest.

heeseung tilts his head and nods. "i'd like that actually."

"have you ever wanted to just exist and not have to charm anyone?"

"sometimes, yeah." heeseung presses his pink lips into a flatline.

"you dont need to play idol." you turn off your main light and adjust your lamp on your desk. "we're old classmates. it must be nice for you to be normal."

"alright," you visibly see his entire body relaxing and he no longer holds the tension that he did when you called back. "its lame. the first real interaction i have with my old crush is me trying to give her fan service vice." he humors.

"technically, our third ."

"i was also giving you fan service the last time as well, soo not very impressive on my part." he chuckles, moving to type on his computer.

two more clicks and soft music plays.

"im not gonna complain, like i said; its flattering and sweet." You bring your legs up into the chair to get more comfortable. "what do you do to wind down after a long day?"

"you want the real answer or the broadcast answer?"

your eyes widen. "depends..." your mouth slowly running dry. "do you go for a run? long shower? game?"

the corner of his lips twitch. "sure. those answers work."

his tone of voice shifts to something suggestive. playful. deep.

this was taking a turn. fast.

“oh.” you nod slowly, a bit awkwardly before he bursts out laughing.

“god, you’re so fucking cute.” heeseungs eyes crease and this is instantly your favorite expression on his face. “i just scroll on my phone and game, y/n. I’m a very simple man.”

with your cheeks warm and hands fidgeting, you manage a calm expression. “same here. just more scrolling than gaming.”

a silence creeps in and you try to think of something to ask, say, or even occupy yourself with. heeseung’s undivided attention sort of makes you uneasy and his habit of searching for direct eye contact isnt exactly grounding.

he breaks the silence first. “It’s getting late, y/n… i don’t want to keep you up.”

“you’re not, i dont have to be at the company until 8am.”

“my show time is 7.”

you looks over at the digital clock on your night stand. “oh shit, you need to be in bed right now. its almost midnight.”

“insomnia, remember?” he brushes a loose lock of hair from his brow. “couldnt fall asleep even if I wanted to.”

“well, i would feel better if you laid in bed at least.”

“Already trying to see me in the sheets, y/n? damn, i didn’t know you were so forward.” he jokes before his monitor light flickers with a pink light. “I kind of don’t want to yet. i hate being told what to do.”

you realize he’s finally teasing you the way he used to with his friends back in the day. “don’t blame me then when you’re exhausted and tired while i work on your face tomorrow.”

“you’re already working with us so soon before the tour?” he smoothly changes the topic.

“yeah, sort of need to immerse myself and understand all of your faces before i assign people to all the members.”

“you assigned to me?” his smug little expression flashes on his features.

“you wish.” you smirk.

heeseung looks you up and down through the screen, the same way he did in the cafeteria. “why don’t we both lay in bed, hmm?”

“like right now?”

“yeah, cmon.” Heeseung grabs his phone, shuts off his pc, and takes you to prop his phone on the night stand. “get in bed.”

he was calling the shots now?

“oh. i still need to finish my skincare…” your eyes dart around your room.

“let me watch.”

why did that sound so hot?

“go on. i’ll wait.”

you’re moving on his word. fuck, you hated that you folded so fast. just one simple change in tone is already enough to subtly show him that you liked taking orders.

“Mmh.” he quietly hums in approval as he watches you set him down somewhere on your sink. “you listen well.”

you turn away as you grab a bottle of your serum and facial mist. hoping that you could hide your reaction. “this your way of being petty after being told what to do all day?”

“no,” he calmly responds. holding his phone with one hand now and the other propped behind his head as he lays down to watch you. “just finally able to be me.”

“and what’s being you like?”

“in charge.”

oh. fuck.

he doesn’t wait for you to be speechless about it and turns his head. “take your time, y/n. i’m right here.”

after 5 excruciating minutes of you rushing through the final steps of your routine. you shut off the bathroom light and pad over to your bedroom.

“you know,” heeseungs eyes blink slowly. “i’m actually starting to get a little sleepy… something about watching you get ready for bed is so cozy.”

“you said something similar when you fell asleep in my chair.” you point out as you shuffle into your sheets.

heeseung lazily smiles before his eyes dart down. “i’ve never done that before… i was actually a little embarrassed about it.”

“i just figured you were tired.”

“I was… just your fingers were so gentle and soft… fuck, sorry.” now a strange expression reaches his eyes when you finally lay down in bed.

“about?”

“its getting late, i should hang up.” heeseung sounds uncomfortable.

oh.

“you.. okay?” you bring the comforter up higher on your torso.

he offers you a pained smile before nodding. “i’m good… just—“ he reconsiders before sighing. “i’m so fucking turned on.”

oh.

“uh—“

“your bare face, your flushed cheeks, then you climbing into bed—god, you’re killing me. it’s pathetic how deprived i am…”

“do you not have like… women for that?”

heeseung looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing. “with what time? dispatch follows me everywhere. my fans are insanely para-socially attached to me that even the mention of me next to another woman makes them send death threats. you think i’d be able to talk with a woman freely knowing that they’d have to go through that?”

he has a point. but also, “you’re talking with me…”

he opens his mouth before closing it again.

“what’s the difference between any other woman and me?” you ask curiously before biting on the inside of your cheek.

“our past.” heeseung blinks a few times. “and the way the public majority is actually enjoying our relationship.”

“oh? i didn’t know we had a relationship.” for some reason this conversation isn’t turning out the way you intended it to.

“well, its the closest one i have to an actual girlfriend.” heeseung makes another valid point. “what else would you call this then,y/n? you could’ve left me on read.”

“being on facetime with you doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“no, it doesn’t,” heeseung nods contemplatively. “but it must mean something that you listened to me, finished your night routine, then got in bed with me like a good girl..”

your phone gets blurry for a second and you realize that your eye is twitching.

“you were so obedient for me, i thought maybe you were starting to enjoy me being myself.” his voice melts around your ears like spiced honey. “or should i go back to fan service heeseung and do as you say?”

“heeseung.” you try to grab hold of reality. a dream. you must be drifting off to sleep.

“yeah, baby?” fuck, he was still talking. “tell me to stop…i promise i will, if you just say the word.”

you should behave.

you should tell him no.

you should say the word and have him do the behaved, well-mannered thing.

but fuck, you weren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you aren’t just as fucking heated from the way he’s sweet talking to you.

your silence tells him everything.

“you warm, sweetheart?”

“so fucking warm….”

“yeah?” he shifts in the sheets and you can hear him bring the phone closer, the low light enough to show you the angular curves in his face. “we should fix that…”

“mhm…” you bite your lip, already getting a sense where this was going.

“aww, you look so cute all bothered because of me…” he chuckles. “just from the sound of my voice?”

“heeseung.” you gasp his name purely from the stimulation of his voice but your legs start rubbing together helplessly.

your slick slowly coating the fabric of your underwear.

“oh, fuck.” he groans. “... Needy little thing.”

your face burns but you’re passed the point of caring. the room is getting spiny… your thoughts are merely wisps of echos of his voice.

”you’re getting awfully quiet… is this too much? should i stop here?”

“no!”

heeseung’s low chuckle reverbs through your speakers. “so pathetic for me… my little makeup artist can’t lay still while she listens to my voice?”

you make a sound. something between a whimper and a whine. you hand slipping down your naval and underneath the waistband of your underwear.

when you touch the wetness leaking from you, the gasp that leaves your lips causes heeseung's brow to flick up. "oh? are you touching yourself, y/n?"

you flush, fingers slipping out and gripping your loose t-shirt.

"answer me," heeseungs voice asserts calmly. "are you touching yourself to my voice?"

you hate how breathless you sound when you reply. "yes..."

”keep going, sweetheart.”

"what?"

"i said, keep going." heeseung sits up against his bed frame. biting his lip attentively and watching your facial expressions. "i'll keep talking, you enjoy yourself."

"but, you're tired—"

"this shit turns me on, no way im leaving you hanging, y/n." heeseung breathing finally sounds labored. "now, touch your pussy for me."

youve abandoned all restraint. " do you want to see?"

"no." his reply surprises you. "i want to watch your pretty face fall apart. you take care of that needy pussy for me. i want to watch your eyes roll back when you cum."

oh. my. god.

you set up the phone where he can have full view of your torso. just enough to show him your arms reaching down to slide down your panties.

"thats it, baby... get comfortable for me."

this is when it begins. his words start leading your hands. with every flow and rise in his voice as he watches your face contort and scrunch from pleasure.

"god, you dont know how long ive been watching your youtube channel, y/n. you're so fucking beautiful... i saw one of the members watching it one day... i immediately recognized you. isnt it fate that we met again 10 years later? 10 years after you broke my 13 year old heart on that stupid field trip? " heeseung groans when you start rolling into your hand. "now look at you. fucking touching your leaking pussy to my voice. letting the boy you rejected edge you into your orgasm. fuck— i can hear how wet you are from here, baby..."

his breathing is jagged and from your peripheral vision you can see how hooded his eyes have gotten from watching you crumble.

"thats it, sweetheart. bring yourself to the edge... you look so fucking good with your eyes rolled back like that into that pretty head of yours... cmon, make a fucking mess... be my messy little cam girl, baby... give me something to get addicted to..."

you whimper loudly. gasping for air as your orgasm tips right on the edge of your tummy.

"aw... you gonna cum so soon? i didnt take you as such a sensitive baby...thats alright, pretty girl. just a little more yeah?" heeseungs smile is heard even while your eyes are rolled back. "fuck, i'd love to stretch you open while holding you down against the bed... your moans are prettier than i imagined."

"heeseung..." you whine—so, so close.

"yeah? you better fucking ask for permission before you cum, y/n."

your core flexes and your thighs begin to shake. youve never reacted this way from barely touching yourself. you need release. bad. "heeseung! please! i- i'm so close! i need to cum! please, may i cum?"

heeseung lets out a low groan before he comes closer to the speaker. "good girl...fucking cum for me. make a fucking mess all over yourself."

you squeal, hips thrusting forward in rapid succession as your orgasm barrels through.

stars flash your vision and a sheet of white blinds you as your eyes roll and twitch.

you're on another planet.

* * *

heeseung is here watching you ascend.

the satisfaction that blooms through his chest and abdomen is immense.

fuck. he gets off on watching you fall apart.

he knows he's already addicted.

he wont be able to get enough of you falling apart to his voice. "good fucking girl."

and like that, your secret relationship begins.

* * *

ch. 1 << ch.2 >> ch.3 (final)

m a s t e r l i s t .

m i k a 🌷: AHHHH! LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK! if there's any typos or errors… be kind, i was excited!😵‍💫🤪🌝

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