ruby

in my lotion , feel my rhythm @seobluuuㅤ ﹒♡ 너와 나만 아는 riddle

[seobluuu]

𓍯𓂃🍈🪽 welcome 2 seobluuu ' s 𓏵 catalogue !!

basics. ruby sheher infp minor

rules. i write for idol x fem!reader ( or occasionally idol x idol if u req for it ) so men dni ⸝⸝ strictly no smut nor male!reader ⸝⸝ pls be mindful of what u share in my asks & comments

if it isnt obvs enough alr , im a huuuge girl group stan !! check out my here if u're interested :p

requests box : open

taken anons : 📸 , 💎 , 📓

masterlist. latest work. twt.

[douqhnxtss]

Hi my friend

I hope this reaches you with care. I’m from Gaza, and every time I try to speak, my posts are buried or silenced — just because I’m Palestinian. Just because I’m starving.💔I’m exhausted. I don’t have the tools or reach anymore — but maybe you do.Could you design something — a post, a graphic — to help my voice be heard?Even this message is a cry for help. I’m not asking for much — just visibility. Just a little light in all this darkness.Thank you. Truly. If you can help, it means more than I can say.🥹🫂

hi — I'm very caught up in life right now, so I can't provide you the urgent help you rightfully deserve, though I'm tagging my friends and wi try to boost this as much as I can so that you find help.

please boost this! @woniefication @shyoko @bambisnc @koiiqqqq @aernx @boyfhees @saeivra @chrrific @y0ziimisii @flamem0th @stvrrlau @seobluuu @blooddlusts

[seobluuu]

𓂃 ࣪⋆🌹˚ ༘ 404: HEART NOT FOUND ⋆ 内永枝利

req. by my fav mootie who very much prefers to be anonymous

in which oops. sleep deprived you tweeted on wrong account. now the whole world knows you're in love with giselle.

starring. uchinaga aeri x le sserafim 5th member!reader

word count. 1.4k

includes friends to lovers , idol x idol au

the thing about being friends with uchinaga aeri — no, giselle, you have to remind yourself, she is giselle on stage now — is that she has absolutely no sense of personal boundaries.

which is how she ends up sprawled across your lap at 2 am, her freshly washed hair smelling like vanilla shampoo as she scrolls through your phone with zero permission. the le sserafim dorm’s dim lighting casts soft shadows over her face, making her look unfairly pretty even in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

"yah," you whine, trying to snatch your phone back, "that’s private-"

giselle only giggles, twisting away from your grasp with the agility of someone who dances for a living.

"too slow," she teases, sticking her tongue out before flopping onto her stomach, her socked feet kicking up behind her like an overexcited puppy.

then her eyes widen.

"oh my god," she gasps, clutching your phone to her chest like she’s uncovered national secrets. "you liked a tweet calling me 'wife material' two weeks ago?"

your entire body goes up in flames. "tha-that was an accident!"

giselle’s grin turns wicked. she props her chin on your thigh, blinking up at you with those unfairly pretty eyes, her lashes fluttering just enough to make your stomach flip.

"you liar," she laughs, poking your knee. "you think i’m pretty."

"i think you’re annoying," you mutter, resolutely ignoring the way your pulse jumps when she laughs, warm and bright and too close.

she doesn’t move away.

instead, she shifts just enough to rest her cheek against your leg, her fingers still lazily scrolling through your phone.

"mmm, sure," she hums, clearly not believing you for a second. "that’s why you have, like, five secret playlists with my name in them."

you nearly choke. "what-"

"relax," she laughs, rolling onto her back again, her hair fanning out over your lap. "i’m kidding. unless…?" she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"you’re insufferable," you groan, covering your face with your hands.

giselle only giggles again, stretching her arms above her head before settling back against you like she belongs there.

"you love me," she says, voice dripping with playful confidence.

and that is the problem.

because you do.

you love the way she always steals your hoodies and never gives them back. the way she whines your name when she’s sleepy, dragging you into impromptu cuddle sessions. the way she catches your eye during music show encores and winks, just to see you flustered.

but most of all, you love this — the quiet moments where it’s just the two of you, where her teasing softens into something warmer, where her fingers linger a little too long when she hands you things, where her laughter sounds just a little breathless when you call her pretty (even if it’s always disguised as a joke).

"you’re staring," giselle murmurs, tilting her head up at you.

you swallow. "am not."

she smirks. "liar again."

before you can protest, she reaches up, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. her touch lingers, her thumb grazing your cheekbone, and for a second — just a second — her playful expression flickers into something softer.

then she pulls back, clearing her throat. "anyway," she says, voice suddenly too casual, "you definitely think i’m wife material. admit it."

you roll your eyes, but your heart is hammering. "in your dreams."

giselle grins, sitting up just enough to lean into your space. "oh, trust me," she whispers, her breath warm against your ear, "you’re in all of them."

and just like that, your brain short-circuits.

she pulls away with a triumphant giggle, flopping back onto the couch like she hasn’t just ruined your entire life. "you’re so easy to mess with," she sighs happily, stretching her arms above her head.

you are going to kill (or more like, kiss) her.

the air conditioning in the le sserafim dorm is broken again.

you're sprawled across the couch in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, fanning yourself with a magazine as you scroll mindlessly through twitter.

the other members are either at schedules or asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the relentless seoul summer heat.

the dorm is quiet. and your brain, as always, defaults to her.

giselle.

you’ve told yourself you're just checking the group’s official updates, but your thumb has a mind of its own, sliding past stage photos and comeback announcements until..

a candid shot of giselle backstage at inkigayo, mid-laugh, her leather jacket slipping off one shoulder to reveal the delicate strap of her tank top beneath. her red hair is slightly messy from performing, her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips?

you swallow hard.

before you can stop yourself, your thumbs are moving:

@ im_lesserafim god help me giselle is so fine i would let her ruin my life

post.

your stomach drops.

the blue checkmark. the handle.

not your personal account. not your private. not your burner.

oh god oh god oh god

your phone starts exploding with notifications.

@ lsrfmbase liked your tweet @ dailygigi quoted "MOOD"

-

you're halfway through trying to figure out how to hack twitter’s servers to hide the post from hybe (and maybe flee the country) when your group chat lights up:

#angerissues [screenshot] care to explain?

manchae unnieeeeeeee⁉️

mother yume de kiss me finally i was tired of watching you two pine go get ur girl!!

you make a sound like a dying seagull and throw your phone across the couch.

this can’t be happening.

hybe is going to kill you. sm is going to blacklist you. giselle is going to-

knock knock knock.

that stupid rhythmic pattern that only one person in the world uses.

your heart leaps, and you consider pretending you aren’t home. or dead. or both.

"yah, i know you’re in there," giselle’s voice calls through the door. "ning just sends me eight crying-laughing emojis and a screenshot of something very… interesting."

you bury your face in a couch cushion. maybe if you suffocate yourself, you won’t have to face this.

the knocking turns into a rapid tap-tap-tap-tap. "open the door or i’ll start singing fearless at the top of my lungs," she threatens.

"you wouldn’t dare," you hiss, scrambling up.

"try me," she shoots back, and you can hear her grinning.

grumbling, you drag yourself to the door. only to freeze with your hand on the handle.

what are you even supposed to say?

sorry i tweeted that i’d let you ruin my life from the group account, no big deal?

you take a deep breath and yank the door open.

giselle stands there, leaning against the doorframe like she hasn’t just single-handedly destroyed your entire existence. she is still in her stage outfit — black leather pants, that stupidly unfair cropped tank top — and her hair is slightly damp from post-performance showers.

she smirks. "hey, loser."

you want to die.

"hi," you mutter, refusing to meet her eyes.

giselle doesn’t wait for an invitation. she just pushes past you into the dorm, kicking off her shoes like she owns the place. "so," she says, plopping onto the couch right where you were dying moments ago, "you think i’m fine, huh?"

you want the floor to swallow you whole. "i- that was a mistake-"

"a mistake?" she gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "you mean you don’t want me to ruin your life?"

you groan, collapsing onto the couch beside her. "aeri. oh, please."

she laughs, bright and warm, before suddenly turning serious. her playful smirk softens into something quieter, something real.

"hey," she murmurs, nudging your knee with hers. "look at me."

reluctantly, you do.

her eyes are so pretty up close.

"…you really think i’m fine?" she asks, voice suddenly small.

you swallow. "you know you are."

she bites her lip — god, why does she have to do that? — before leaning in just a little. "what if," she whispers, "i think you’re fine too?"

your brain short-circuits.

"w-what?"

giselle rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are pink. "ugh, do i have to spell it out?" she huffs, before grabbing your face with both hands. "i like you, dummy."

she kisses you.

it is soft, sweet, perfect — and over way too soon.

she pulls back just enough to grin at you, her thumbs brushing your cheeks. "so?" she teases. "still want me to ruin your life?"

you don’t even hesitate.

you kiss her again.

[seobluuu]

i need someone to understand my obsession love for her oh this body tea is so girlfriendable 😭😭😭

[seobluuu]

𓂃 ࣪⋆🪩˚ ༘ DRESS UP ⋆ 김민정

req. by anon here!

in which minjeong nervously attends the high school reunion with you in a bold new outfit, only to face backhanded comments from former classmates.

starring. kim minjeong x fem!reader

word count. 1.4k

includes fluff , established relationship , protective!reader , mean itzy members ( yeji chaeryeong ryujin ) for the sake of the plot 😓

silver and blue balloons bob near the ceiling, and a banner in looping hangul displays "10 years later – class of 2020 reunion!" in glittering letters.

you tighten your grip on minjeong’s hand as you both step inside, her fingers twitching nervously against yours.

she looks breathtaking — her off-shoulder blouse dipping just low enough to tease the delicate curve of her collarbones, the fitted skirt hugging her waist before flaring slightly at her thighs. it’s daring for her, but she’d spent ages picking it out, turning in front of the mirror with hesitant excitement earlier this evening.

"do i look… okay?" she had asked, biting her lip, her cheeks flushed pink under the dim bedroom light.

and you stared at her, heart hammering, because okay was the biggest understatement of the century. she looked like something out of a dream — soft and radiant and so her, even when stepping out of her comfort zone.

"okay? minjeong, you look—" you hadd cut yourself off, stepping closer, hands hovering at her waist. "you’re gonna kill me. actually kill me."

she laughed with that tiny, breathy sound that always made your stomach flip, and you kissed her right then, because how could you not?

now, though, under the lights and the weight of familiar-but-distant gazes, that confidence wavers. you can see it in the way she keeps adjusting the strap of her top, the way her free hand drifts toward the hem of her skirt like she’s second-guessing the length.

"you okay?" you murmur, leaning close so she can hear you over the music, your lips almost brushing her ear.

she exhales, tilting her chin up in that way she does when she’s steeling herself. "yeah. just… wondering if this was a mistake."

your chest tightens. "what? no way. you look—"

"amazing, yeah, you said that already," she teases, but her voice is light in a way that doesn’t match the tension in her shoulders.

"because it’s true," you insist, brushing your thumb over her knuckles. "and i’m not just saying that because i’m your girlfriend. i’m saying it because it’s, like, a universal fact. like how the sky is blue or how puppies are cute."

that finally earns you a real smile, small but genuine, and she squeezes your hand. "you’re such a dork."

"your dork," you counter, grinning when she rolls her eyes.

-

the first comment comes within minutes.

yeji, who’d perfected the art of backhanded compliments in high school, saunters over with a razor-sharp smile.

"oh, minjeong-ah," she coos, dragging out the syllables as her gaze sweeps over minjeong’s outfit like she’s inspecting a museum exhibit. "you’re so… bold now. i could never wear something like that."

minjeong’s grip on your hand tightens painfully, but she forces a laugh. "well, you know. trying something new."

you bite your tongue. hard. every muscle in your body tenses, screaming at you to say something, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t — not unless minjeong needed you to.

yeji’s eyes flicker to you, waiting, but you just press your lips together and squeeze minjeong’s hand instead.

"well, it’s certainly… a look," yeji adds when neither of you rise to the bait.

minjeong’s smile stays plastered on, but you feel the way her fingers tremble against yours.

"we should go get drinks," you murmur, steering her away before yeji can dig in deeper.

"you okay?" you ask once you’re out of earshot.

she exhales shakily. "yeah. just… people are the worst."

you press a kiss to her knuckles, swallowing back the words you want to say. "let’s find the punch before i do something stupid."

she laughs, and the sound loosens the knot in your chest.

-

the second comment comes from chaeryeong, who had spent most of high school sighing after minjeong from afar. she spots her across the room, does a double take, and nearly spills her drink.

"minjeong?" she says, stumbling a little as she approaches. her eyes flicker down, then back up, ears turning pink. "wow. you’re, uh. dressed really different."

minjeong shifts uncomfortably, her fingers tugging at her skirt. "yeah, well. it’s a special occasion."

chaeryeong swallows, her gaze darting between the two of you. "you look… good."

you clench your jaw. it’s not mean, not like yeji’s comment, but the way he says it — like he’s surprised, like minjeong wasn’t always beautiful — makes your skin itch.

but you stay quiet.

minjeong forces a polite smile. "thanks."

chaeryeong lingers, awkward, before finally clearing her throat and shuffling away.

the second she's gone, you pull minjeong closer, your arm snug around her waist. "you okay?"

she leans into you, exhaling. "yeah. just… tired of feeling like i’m on display."

you press your lips to her temple. "we can leave anytime."

she shakes her head. "not yet."

you nod, even though every instinct is screaming to take her away from here.

-

the third comment is the one that snaps your patience.

ryujin's voice cuts through the chatter as she "whispers" to her friend, just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"i guess some people are still desperate for attention."

minjeong freezes beside you, her smile shattering.

that’s it.

you turn sharply, fixing ryujin with a glare that makes her take a step back. "excuse me?"

ryujin blinks, feigning innocence. "i didn’t say anything—"

"you did," you cut in, your voice low and dangerous. the nearby conversations hush. "and let me make something clear. minjeong looks perfect. she always does. and if you’ve got a problem with that, maybe you should take a long look in the mirror and figure out why you care so much about what someone else is wearing."

the silence is deafening.

ryujin’s mouth opens, then closes with a click.

you don’t wait for a response. instead, you turn to minjeong, cupping her face in your hands. her eyes are wide, her lips slightly parted. "you’re beautiful," you say, loud enough for everyone to hear. "and i’m so lucky to have you."

for a heartbeat, the world narrows to just her — the flutter of her lashes, the hitch in her breath. then, without another word, you lace your fingers through hers and pull her toward the exit.

"wait—" minjeong starts, but you’re already pushing through the crowd, your grip unrelenting.

the cool night air hits you both as you burst through the gym doors, the sounds of the reunion fading behind you. minjeong stumbles slightly in her heels, but you steady her, your hands firm on her waist.

"hey," she breathes, her brow furrowed. "where are we—"

"home," you say simply, already flagging down a taxi. "we’re going home."

the ride is quiet, minjeong staring out the window while your thumb traces absent circles on the back of her hand. by the time you reach your apartment, the tension in her shoulders has eased slightly, but the way she bites her lip tells you she’s still turning those comments over in her mind.

you unlock the door and usher her inside, kicking off your shoes before turning to her. without a word, you reach for the clip in her hair, gently loosening it until her waves tumble free. she sighs as your fingers massage her scalp, her eyes fluttering closed.

"idiots," you mutter, pressing a kiss to her temple. "every single one of them."

minjeong huffs a laugh, but when she opens her eyes, they’re suspiciously bright. "i just… i wanted to look nice. for once."

your heart cracks. "you always look nice. you could wear a potato sack and still be the most gorgeous person in the room."

she snorts, swatting at your arm. "a potato sack?"

"yep." you nod solemnly, then tug at the hem of her blouse. "but since you’re not wearing a potato sack… can i tell you how much i love this outfit?"

minjeong rolls her eyes, but her smile is real now, soft and warm. "you’re ridiculous."

you kiss her then, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of your adoration into it until she’s melting against you. when you pull back, her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen.

"home is better anyway," she murmurs, looping her arms around your neck.

you grin, sweeping her into your arms. "damn right it is."

[seobluuu]

could we get a winter fluff plsplsplsss!! anything concept ud likee just need fluffy fluffs with minjeong! love ur workk.. keep it up and remember to have funn!

yesyesyes ofc !! its lowk a bit short nd not as fluffy as u prob wished but i posted it here :D

[seobluuu]

this can only mean one thing in korea...

[seobluuu]

boo

HI DID U CHANGE UR THEME omg im in love

[seobluuu]

𓂃 ࣪⋆🌠˚ ༘ EMERGENCY STARGAZING ⋆ 直井怜

in which you and rei sneak onto a rooftop under the stars

starring. naoi rei x fem!reader

word count. 1.1k

includes fluff , mutual pining

the night air is cool against your skin as you step onto the rooftop, the city stretching out below you in a sea of glittering lights. the breeze carries the faint scent of rain and something sweet — maybe the bakery downstairs, still warm from the evening rush.

you take a deep breath, hugging your arms to your chest, and then you see her.

rei is already there, fussing with a thick, slightly lopsided blanket near the edge of the rooftop.

she’s wearing that hoodie — the dark blue one with the frayed cuffs that she’s had since high school, the one she always steals back from you after you “borrow” it for weeks at a time.

her hair is a little windswept, like she’s been pacing or maybe just running her hands through it nervously. again.

at the sound of your footsteps, she turns, and her whole face lights up — like you’re the stars she dragged you up here to see.

your stomach does a tiny, traitorous flip.

“you came,” she says, voice soft, almost surprised, as if she’d been half-convinced you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes, but your heart isn’t in it. “you texted me ‘emergency’ with three exclamation points. i thought someone was dying.”

rei laughs, rubbing the back of her neck in that way she does when she’s flustered.

“okay, maybe i exaggerated a little. but look—” she gestures up at the sky, her sleeve slipping down to reveal the delicate silver bracelet you gave her for her birthday last year. “it’s perfect tonight. i didn’t want to miss it.”

you glance up. she’s right, the stars are brighter than you’ve seen them in months, scattered like spilled sugar across the dark.

when you look back at her, she’s watching you instead of the sky, her dark eyes warm, crinkling at the corners in that way they do when she’s trying not to smile too obviously.

your cheeks feel warm. stop it.

“you brought snacks,” you say, nodding at the little paper bag beside her, desperate to distract yourself.

“obviously,” she says, plopping down onto the blanket and patting the space next to her. “can’t stargaze on an empty stomach.”

you settle beside her, close enough that your arms brush. the rooftop is quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional burst of laughter from somewhere far below. rei digs into the bag and pulls out two cans of soda, handing you one.

“your favorite,” she says.

you blink. “you remembered?”

she ducks her head, but not before you catch the pleased little smile on her lips. “well. yeah.”

-

for a while, you just sit there, sipping your drinks and pointing out the few constellations you recognize.

rei knows way more than you do. she names them easily, tracing shapes in the air with her finger like she’s drawing them just for you.

"that one’s lyra," she says, leaning closer so you can follow her gaze. her shoulder presses against yours, solid and warm, and you can smell the faint sweetness of her shampoo — something like vanilla and strawberries. "see? the little parallelogram?"

you squint, pretending to focus on the stars when really, you’re just stealing glances at her — the way the starlight catches in her dark eyes, the way she chews her bottom lip when she’s concentrating.

"i think i see it," you lie. "or maybe i’m just agreeing because you sound so sure."

she shoves your shoulder lightly, laughing, and the sound makes your chest feel too tight. "you’re the worst."

"you love me," you shoot back without thinking.

the words hang in the air for a second too long. rei’s smile softens, something unreadable flickering in her expression before she looks away. "yeah," she says, quieter now, almost shy. "i do."

your heart stutters.

the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged, like the moment before a storm — like the air itself is holding its breath.

you fiddle with the tab of your soda can, suddenly hyper-aware of the way her knee presses against yours, the way she keeps sneaking glances at you when she thinks you aren’t looking, and the way her fingers tap nervously against her thigh, like she’s working up the courage for something.

rei takes a deep breath. "hey," she says, so softly you almost miss it.

you turn to her. "yeah?"

she hesitates, then slowly, carefully reaches for your hand. her fingers slide between yours, tentative at first, like she’s afraid you’ll pull away.

her palm is warm, slightly calloused from guitar strings, and the contact sends a shiver up your spine.

"i, um." she swallows. "i like this. being here with you."

you squeeze her hand, your thumb brushing over her knuckles. "me too."

"no, i mean—" she huffs, frustrated with herself, then meets your eyes. "i like you. like… more than friends."

you can feel your pulse in your throat, your ears, your fingertips, everywhere.

rei bites her lip. "you don’t have to say anything back, i just—"

you kiss her.

it’s not planned. one second you’re staring at her lips, at the way they part just slightly after her confession, and the next, you’re leaning in, cutting her off mid-sentence.

her lips are so soft, so warm, and for a terrifying heartbeat, she freezes.

oh god, did i mess up?

but then she makes this tiny, happy noise against your mouth, a quiet, breathy sound that sends sparks down your spine.

it’s the kind of sound you’ll replay in your head for weeks, the kind that makes your stomach swoop like you’ve just tipped over the edge of a rollercoaster.

her free hand comes up to curl into your sleeve, fingers clutching the fabric like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on tight. you can feel the slight tremble in her grip, the way her other hand — still tangled with yours — squeezes tighter, like she’s anchoring herself to you.

and she kisses you back, sweet and slow, like she’s been waiting forever to do this. her lips move against yours, tentative at first, then surer, like she’s memorizing the shape of you.

the rooftop, the stars, the city below —i t all fades into a blur, because the only thing that matters is this, the way she sighs into the kiss, the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles like you’re something precious.

when you pull away, her cheeks are pink, her eyes wide. "oh," she breathes.

you grin. "yeah. 'oh.'"

she swats at you, but she’s laughing, bright and giddy, and when she kisses you again, you taste the strawberry soda on her lips and the stars above you blur into nothing.

seobluuu speaks 💬 someone asked me to write angst for rei... how do you look at this cutie patootie and think of angst??? so heres a fluffy rei fic hehe

[seobluuu]

𓂃 ࣪⋆🍪˚ ༘ SUGAR RUSH ⋆ 宁艺卓

starring. ning yizhuo x fem!reader

word count. 1.1k... smth to keep yall from boredom while i work on back2u pt2!

includes pure domestic fluff , established relationship

ningning stands beside you, her hip resting against the counter, already grinning.

“so,” she says, tapping her fingers against the recipe book you had set out earlier, her pinky brushing yours just barely on purpose. “are we actually following this, or are we just gonna wing it and hope for the best?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. not when she’s looking at you like that, all mischief and fondness, her lips quirking in that way that makes your stomach flip.

“we’re following the recipe,” you say firmly, nudging her with your elbow. “at least mostly.”

she gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense, her other arm looping around your waist to tug you closer. “mostly? wow. look at you, living on the edge.”

you laugh, shaking your head as you reach for the flour, but she doesn’t let go, her fingers tracing idle patterns against your hip.

“just measure it out for me, will you?” you murmur, trying (and failing) to sound stern.

“fine, fine,” she sighs dramatically, but she’s already grabbing the measuring cup, her fingers brushing yours as she takes the bag from you. a shiver runs down your spine at the contact, and you swear you see her smirk — she definitely noticed.

she dumps the flour into the bowl with exaggerated precision, then pauses, tilting her head. the sunlight catches the little flecks of gold in her eyes, and for a second, you forget about baking entirely. “…do you think it’d be better if we added, like, a little extra vanilla?”

“yizhuo.”

“just a teensy bit more?” she holds up her thumb and forefinger, squinting between them.

before you can protest, she’s already reaching for the bottle, her free hand settling on the small of your back to steady herself as she stretches onto her tiptoes.

“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but you don’t stop her — just lean into her touch, your cheek pressing briefly against her shoulder.

she grins, triumphant, as she adds a very generous splash of vanilla. “there. now it’ll taste like love. or, y’know, a sugar coma. either way, win-win.”

the butter and sugar are creamed together, the mixture pale and fluffy under your wooden spoon.

ningning leans over your shoulder, her chin nearly resting on you as she watches, her chest pressed lightly against your back. the warmth of her seeps through your shirt, and you can feel her smile before she even speaks.

“you’re really good at that,” she murmurs, her breath a soft tickle against your ear.

you swallow, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she is — the way her hip bumps yours, the way her fingers drum idly against the counter beside you, like she’s resisting the urge to touch.

“it-it’s just mixing,” you mumble, but your voice comes out thinner than you meant it to.

“mhm.” she hums, low and amused, and then her fingers curl around yours on the spoon handle, guiding your movements slower, teasing. her palm presses against the back of your hand, her thumb stroking your knuckles in slow circles. “but you’re doing it so well.”

your face burns. “you’re distracting me.”

“am i?” she’s grinning, you can hear it in her voice — that smug, honeyed lilt that makes your knees weak. “oops.”

she doesn’t let go.

the eggs come next, and ningning cracks them one-handed with a confidence that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. the shell splits clean under her fingers, yolk slipping perfectly into the bowl without a single stray fragment.

“show-off,” you mutter.

“jealous?” she teases, wiggling her fingers at you, her other hand still braced against the small of your back like she’s afraid you’ll drift too far away.

“of your egg-cracking skills? obviously.”

she laughs, bright and loud, and you think — god, you could live in that sound forever. the way it fills the kitchen, the way her nose scrunches, the way she leans into you like you’re her favorite place to be.

you don’t say it out loud.

but the way she looks at you, soft and knowing, makes you wonder if she hears it anyway.

the batter is done, thick and smooth, and ningning dips a finger into it before you can stop her.

“hey—!”

“quality check,” she says solemnly, licking the batter off her finger with a satisfied hum. her tongue darts out to catch a stray drop at the corner of her lip, and your stomach does something stupid. “yep. perfect.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you say, but you’re already reaching to steal a taste for yourself.

her hand catches your wrist before you can. “ah-ah,” she tuts, eyes sparkling with mischief. “you gotta earn it.”

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow, pulse jumping where her fingers circle your wrist. “and how do i do that?”

she leans in, just a little, just enough to make your breath catch. her free hand hooks into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you closer. “kiss me,” she says, simple as that, “and i’ll let you have some.”

you don’t hesitate.

and yeah, the batter is perfect. but her lips are sweeter.

the oven timer dings, pulling you both apart, and ningning whines, pressing her forehead against your shoulder. “nooo, the cake’s ruining everything.”

you snort, pushing her gently toward the oven. “go take it out before it burns.”

“ugh, fine.” she pouts, but she’s already grabbing the oven mitts, shoving them onto her hands with exaggerated drama. she pauses halfway to the oven, though, turning back to shoot you a look. “but you owe me.”

“for what? saving the cake?”

“for interrupting me,” she corrects, grinning as she bends to pull the pan out. the hem of her shirt rides up just a little, revealing a sliver of skin at her waist, and you definitely don’t stare.

okay, maybe a little.

the cake is golden and fragrant, the cinnamon streusel crisped to perfection. ningning beams at it like it’s her greatest accomplishment — and then immediately tries to poke it.

“don’t—!” you swat her hand away, laughing. “it needs to cool!”

“but it looks so good,” she whines, flopping against you, her arms looping around your neck. she’s warm and flour-dusted and impossible, and you wouldn’t have her any other way.

“you’re worse than a kid,” you laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her — not that she needs it.

she’s exactly where she wants to be.

and so are you.

[seobluuu]

Pls write more about minjeong 🥹 she bias wrecked me HARD in the dirtywork mv and literally every performance of it afterwards…

oh dont worry bb trust me when i say i got smth cooking up

[seobluuu]

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT 😍 the choreographer pairs y/n with giselle for a sensual duet section and karina gets jealous 😨 later, she "accidentally" interrupts their practice then pulls y/n into a private dance session where she redoes the moves MUCH closer than necessary 🤭🤭 - anon📓 hehehehhee

𓂃 ࣪⋆🗝️˚ ༘ MINE ⋆ 유지민

req. by 📓 anon

starring. yu jimin x aespa 5th member!reader

word count. 1.5k

includes jealous & possessive!rina , kisses , aespa members , kinda? giselle x reader , lmk if theres more !! (not proofread)

the studio mirrors reflect a room thick with exhaustion — hoodies tied haphazardly around waists, stray bobby pins littering the floor, hair pulled into messy buns that have long since surrendered to the hours of rehearsal. the air smells like sweat and the sharp citrus of energy drinks, the kind of atmosphere where determination clings to every breath.

you’re mid-stretch, fingers brushing the polished hardwood, when the choreographer’s sharp clap cuts through the low hum of chatter.

"alright, listen up!" her voice carries over the thumping bass still echoing from the speakers. "for the bridge, we’re adding a duet section — y/n and giselle, you’ll be paired."

your head snaps up so fast your neck protests. across the room, aeri grins, already sauntering toward you with that effortless grace of hers. the overhead lights catch the sheen of sweat on her collarbones as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

"lucky me," she teases, voice dripping with playful arrogance. her fingers toy with the hem of her cropped tank top, and you don’t miss the way her eyes flicker down to your lips for half a second.

you roll your eyes, willing your cheeks not to betray you. "try not to step on my feet this time," you shoot back, though there’s no real bite to it.

aeri gasps, clutching her chest like you’ve wounded her. "excuse you? i’m a delicate artist," she declares, tossing her hair over one shoulder. the other dancers snicker, but your laughter dies in your throat when you catch a flicker of movement in the mirror.

jimin.

she leans against the far mirror, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched. her water bottle dangles from her fingertips, half-crushed. the set of her jaw is tight, lips slightly parted as her dark eyes track the way aeri’s fingers linger on your wrist — a second too long, a touch too deliberate.

then the choreographer starts demonstrating the moves, and your stomach drops.

it’s sensual, to say the least.

a slow, winding sequence where your bodies press close, chest to chest, hands sliding from waists to shoulders with agonizing precision. hips roll in sync, a deliberate grind that makes your pulse stutter just thinking about performing it. the choreographer demonstrates with her assistant, their movements fluid and intimate, and your mouth goes dry.

aeri leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "well," she murmurs, voice laced with amusement, "this just got interesting."

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus on the steps, but out of the corner of your eye, jimin's grip tightens around her water bottle. the plastic crumples with a sharp crack, water sloshing over her fingers. she doesn’t even flinch.

and when the music starts, and aeri’s hands settle on your waist, you swear you see jimin's eyes darken.

practice is torture.

aeri is good. too good.

her hands are confident, her movements fluid — every brush of her fingertips against your waist, every slow drag of her palm up your arm, sends a traitorous shiver down your spine. the choreography demands closeness, but the way she looks at you, like she’s memorizing the way your breath hitches when she pulls you in — makes it feel like something else entirely.

it’s just dancing, you remind yourself for the tenth time. just work.

but then —

clang!

a half-full water bottle slams between your feet, sending both you and aeri stumbling apart. the sound echoes sharply in the studio, and the music cuts off as everyone turns.

you already know who it is before you even look.

she’s crouched on the floor, one hand outstretched like she’s just attempted to catch the bottle, but the smirk playing on her lips betrays her.

“oops,” jimin says, blinking up at you with faux innocence, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “my hand slipped.”

minjeong, leaning against the stereo, snorts into her palm. “yeah, sure it did.”

jimin ignores her, straightening up and stepping so close you have to tilt your head back to meet her gaze. the scent of her perfume wraps around you, and your pulse stutters.

“y/n,” she murmurs, voice low and honeyed, fingers brushing against yours in a touch so light it could be accidental. if you didn’t know better. “i need your help with my part.”

you blink. “but… you know your part.”

she always knows her part. yu jimin is perfect — every step, every angle, every breath calculated. she’s the one who corrects others, not the one who asks for help.

her thumb traces the inside of your wrist, slow and deliberate. “do i?”

aeri lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her shoulders. “just go,” she mutters, waving a hand, “before she combusts.”

jimin shoots her a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but she doesn’t deny it. instead, her fingers tighten around yours, tugging you toward the empty practice room down the hall.

the smaller practice room is quiet, the only sound the muffled bass from the main studio bleeding through the walls. the air is cooler here, the lights dimmer — more intimate. your pulse kicks up as jimin locks the door behind her with a soft click, the sound final.

trapped.

not that you’re complaining.

she turns, leaning back against the door, arms crossed. the sharp line of her collarbones glistens with sweat, her tank top clinging to her torso. her gaze is heavy, unreadable.

"show me the duet," she says, voice low.

you swallow. "rina, you don’t need—"

"show me."

it’s not a request.

so you do.

you guide her through the steps, careful to keep space between you — professional distance, just like you did with aeri. but jimin?

she erases it.

on the first turn, instead of the light brush of fingertips the choreography calls for, she pulls you in until your chests press together, her hands sliding down your back, possessive.

"closer," she murmurs, lips skimming the curve of your ear.

your breath hitches. "that’s not how the choreo—"

"closer."

her thigh slots between yours, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, tilting your face toward hers. every point of contact burns—her hips rolling against yours in a slow, deliberate grind, her breath fanning over your skin as she guides you through the next move.

"aeri didn’t do it like this," she whispers, voice dripping with satisfaction.

you shiver. "n-no, she didn’t."

jimin smirks, spinning you until your back hits the mirror, her body caging you in. the glass is cool against your overheated skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of her.

"good."

and then —

her lips crash into yours.

she doesn't rush. instead, she lingers just inches away, her dark eyes tracing your face like she's committing every detail to memory. you can feel her breath, warm and uneven, ghosting over your lips.

"jimin…" your voice comes out barely above a whisper, fingers trembling where they rest against her shoulders.

her thumb brushes your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

"you looked so good with her," she murmurs, voice thick with something unspoken. "too good." the pad of her thumb presses gently, parting your lips. "i didn't like it."

then she's closing the distance. not crashing, but melting against you. the first brush of her lips is feather-light, testing, giving you every chance to pull away.

when you don't, when you sigh into the kiss instead, she deepens it with a quiet sound that might be relief.

her hands cradle your face like you're something precious, fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw as her mouth moves against yours with aching slowness. there's no urgency, just the gradual give-and-take of lips learning each other, the occasional catch of breath when she nips gently at your lower lip.

"you taste like mint," she murmurs between kisses, nose brushing against yours. "and that strawberry balm you always use." another soft press of lips. "i've been thinking about this all day."

one of her hands slides into your hair, not gripping but carding through the strands with unbearable tenderness even as her other arm wraps around your waist to pull you flush against her. the contrast — the firmness of her body against yours versus the gentleness of her kiss — makes your knees weak.

when she finally pulls back, it's just far enough to rest her forehead against yours. her breathing is uneven, lips slightly swollen, and the look in her eyes makes your stomach flip.

"now," she whispers, thumb stroking your cheekbone, "let's try that duet again. properly."

when you finally return to the group — hair disheveled, lips swollen, jimin’s fingers laced tightly with yours — the girls take one look at you and burst into knowing smirks.

ningning nearly chokes on her water. "took you long enough," she coughs, shaking her head.

minjeong just sighs, rubbing her temples. "we were taking bets, you know. i had money on jimin snapping by wednesday."

aeri, leaning against the stereo, arches a brow. "told you she’d combust," she says, grinning when jimin flips her off.

but jimin doesn’t rise to the bait. instead, she tugs you against her side, her smile smug as she presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"mine," she whispers, just for you.

and really?

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

seobluuu speaks 💬 nothin today !! but yall should learn from 📓 anon nd send me reqs since i actually hv NO plot/ideas to write abt 🥀

[seobluuu]

does anyone want2b moots on twt im lonely there :p

[seobluuu]

what's your favourite karina hairstyle / haircolor ??

IVE NEVER BEEN MORE READY FOR A QUESTION IN MY LIFE??

#blonderina4life like LOOK. AT. HER. esp in the salty & sweet fancams ohh they had me sip sip sippin all night deep deep deep in all night

that one halfuphalfdown(?) styling from synk road comes vv close tho

[seobluuu]

ik this isnt what i usually post but lets talk.

someone who writes smut for many idols, including tripleS chaewon (she js turned 18) nd hayeon (still 17) followed me

i alr blocked + reported their acc but let me be clear: writing sexually explicit content about minors (or freshly legal idols) is not okay. the fact that over 300+ people liked or engaged with those posts is deeply concerning

i write fanfics too, but there’s a non negotiable line — no nsfw content involving minors. period. not "aged up," not "close in age," not "but its fiction."

if u're one of those people who consumes or creates this kind of content, you need to reflect on why that is (& dni w my blog) !!!

[seobluuu]

HAI PRETTY RUBY !!!!! how r u imysm :(

KIRA BB HIII I MISSED U TOOO 🥹🥹 i came back from vacation a few days ago hehe wbu !!

[seobluuu]

done reading the “back to you” i got scared to read it first when i saw the “angst” 😭😭😭😭but then it so wholesomee i want moree pls do a prt 2🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

lowkey should get a phd in misleading tags™ ADKJHKJW i actually hvnt written angst in such a long time i should js stick back to fluff

part 2?? dramatically cracks knuckles 

your wish is my command… but only because you asked so nicely 🙂‍↕️