blosmie

[blosmie]

Using your Panties — Kim.Minjeong.

Synopsis ::: Alone and stressed while studying for her econ midterm, Minjeong finds your dirty Dior panties in the laundry and gives in to her urges.

Paring ::: Kim Minjeong (g!p) x Fem!Reader

Warning ::: ( smut ). This contains Minjeong g!p, masturbation, panty kink, scent kink, cum play, photo sending, dom-sub undertone, long-distance Don’t be silly wrap that willy!

An - She could always use it! 😉 || Masterlist.

It was nearly 1:40 a.m., and Kim Minjeong’s apartment was dead silent — except for the soft hum of her laptop fan and the occasional scratch of her pen against paper.

She sat at the dining table, surrounded by an avalanche of Econ notes, past papers, and half-drained coffee mugs. Her midterm was only days away, and the pressure was stacking higher by the hour. Her jaw clenched, eyes bleary from screen time, and yet…

Her focus was slipping.

Badly.

No matter how many formulas she recited, no matter how often she reread the demand curve section, her brain refused to engage. It wasn’t just the stress. It was you.

You, in Paris, modeling for Dior — halfway across the world.

You hadn’t been gone that long, maybe four days, but for Minjeong, it felt like an eternity. She missed your voice, your touch, your scent. And more than anything, she missed the way you looked at her like she belonged to you.

The ache in her chest had grown heavier throughout the day — but now, it was joined by something else. Something urgent.

Hard.

Minjeong shifted in her seat, letting out a breath through her nose as her pajama pants tented shamelessly beneath the table. She tried to ignore it, to focus, but her cock throbbed persistently in protest.

“…Fuck.”

She pushed her chair back with a loud scrape, standing up and running a hand through her already-messy hair. Her body was flushed, warm, restless. She walked aimlessly around the apartment for a moment, thinking maybe she could calm herself down, maybe she could cool off.

But her hand kept drifting downward.

So she headed for the bathroom — maybe splashing her face would help.

The light flickered on above the mirror as she stepped in. The bathroom was still warm from her earlier shower, the air thick with the remnants of your shared shampoo.

She leaned over the sink, bracing herself with both hands and staring at her own reflection. Her cheeks were slightly pink, lips parted. Her eyes were wild with frustration.

She splashed cold water on her face.

Twice.

Didn’t help.

And that’s when she saw it.

Sitting in the laundry basket, half-tucked beneath one of her oversized shirts — your Dior panties. Black lace, barely-there fabric, unmistakably you. You must’ve tossed them in before leaving for your trip. She hadn’t even realized they were there until now.

Minjeong stared.

Her cock pulsed once. Hard.

She licked her lips slowly, then let out a breathless laugh — disbelieving, slightly delirious from the tension.

“…Only once,” she muttered to herself, stepping forward. “Yeah, just once…”

She reached in and picked up the panties, holding them up between her fingers. They were wrinkled, slightly damp with your last wear, and perfect. She raised them to her nose, slowly inhaling — and moaned, the sound quiet but raw.

That was it.

The last bit of restraint snapped.

She sank down onto the bathroom floor, pajamas shoved down around her thighs. Her cock sprang free, heavy and already leaking. She wrapped the panties around the base of it — and nearly whimpered from the contact.

The fabric was soft, still carrying your warmth, and the memory of how you’d worn them — high on your hips, barely covering anything — drove her wild.

Minjeong began stroking.

Slow, tight strokes at first, the lace gliding against her shaft. She tilted her head back against the tile wall, eyes fluttering shut, picturing you — how you’d straddle her hips in those exact panties, grin cocky and voice playful as you said: “Bet you wanna ruin these, huh?”

Her hips jerked up into her fist involuntarily.

She bit her lip, pace quickening.

Your name spilled from her lips in a broken gasp.

The panties were soaked now — not just from her pre-cum, but from the way she kept pressing them right against the sensitive head, dragging the damp spot over and over across her slit.

She groaned.

“Fuck, baby… I miss you…”

Faster now. Her palm tightened. She gripped the panties harder, the thought of you watching her like this making her stomach knot deliciously.

In her head, she imagined what you’d say if you caught her doing this.

Maybe you’d smirk. Call her filthy. Maybe you’d tell her to keep going, to cum hard for you, to make a mess of your expensive lingerie just because she couldn’t hold it in.

The image pushed her over.

With a low, strained moan, Minjeong came — hard — thick ropes spilling into the fabric, warmth flooding the center of the panties until they were wet and heavy with it. Her hand didn’t stop moving until the last pulse faded, until she was twitching and gasping and slumped against the wall, dizzy from the intensity.

For a moment, she sat in silence.

Her cock still twitched weakly in her lap, glistening. The panties were ruined — soaked, sticky, stained with her cum. A sinful mess of lace and heat.

And she couldn’t stop staring at them.

She picked up her phone from the sink, turned the camera on, and angled it just right — the panties balled in her hand, the stain visible, unmistakable.

She snapped the photo.

Attached it to a message.

Minjeong: Couldn’t help myself. Miss you too much.

Promise I’ll wash them after… or maybe not.

Send.

Then she let her head fall back again, heart pounding, smile tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion.

“Worth it,” she whispered.

@blosmie

[blosmie]

‘ Only mine to show ’ — Nakamura.Kazuha.

Synopsis ::: After months of dating in private, Kazuha finally introduces you to her members — confident, proud, and maybe a little too smug.

Paring ::: Kazuha x G!P Female Reader

Warning ::: ( smut ). This contains G!P reader, soft smut, handjob, oral (f receiving), possessive!Kazuha, public teasing, established relationship, fluff, aftercare.

An — From this request ( here ) || Masterlist.

Are you nervous?” Kazuha asked as she laced her fingers through yours.

You sat together in the van pulling up to the HYBE building. Her hand was warm, her palm slightly sweaty, which was funny — considering you were the one being introduced.

“A little,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “I mean, they’re your members. What if they don’t like me?”

Kazuha laughed softly, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “They’ll like you. They already like you. I just haven’t let them meet you yet because…” She leaned in, lips ghosting your cheek. “I was being a little greedy.”

You tilted your head. “Greedy?”

“I liked having you all to myself.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Before they all saw how perfect you are.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your cheeks flushed anyway. She knew just how to fluster you.

When you entered the practice room, all four members were already there — lounging, snacking, stretching.

Yunjin noticed first. “Ohhh, this must be the famous mystery girlfriend,” she said, standing and walking up. “Or—wait.” Her eyes narrowed teasingly at your chest and your stance. “Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Something in between?”

Kazuha laughed and answered smoothly, “She’s my girlfriend. And she’s mine.”

You were surprised by how confident she sounded — not shy at all. Not the quiet Kazuha most people expected.

You gave a little bow. “It’s really nice to meet you guys. Zuha talks about you all the time.”

“She never shuts up about you,” Chaewon grinned, then eyed Kazuha. “Always on her phone, texting with this dumb look on her face. It was getting suspicious.”

“Yeah,” Sakura chimed in with a soft smile. “You must be the reason she suddenly started liking pink things.”

“She started wearing perfume too,” Eunchae teased. “Even shaved her legs during winter.”

Kazuha groaned and pulled you closer by the waist. “Ignore them. They’re demons.”

But you couldn’t stop smiling. The energy was warm, playful — you weren’t just accepted, you were already part of the group.

The girls invited you out for bubble tea after practice. You sat beside Kazuha on the booth bench, her thigh pressed against yours, her fingers resting gently over your knee under the table.

“So… how did you two start dating?” Yunjin leaned in, sipping from her straw with a smirk.

Kazuha glanced at you with a playful smile. “I made the first move.”

You choked on your drink a little. “She didn’t even say hi. She just walked up and said ‘I like your face.’”

“She blushed,” Kazuha said proudly. “So hard.”

Chaewon smirked. “Bet she’s blushing right now.”

You were.

Sakura leaned in toward Kazuha, lowering her voice dramatically. “Does she treat you well?”

Kazuha looked at you, soft and serious now. “Better than anyone ever has.”

Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in her eyes — it was the kind of look that said I love you, even if she hadn’t said those words yet.

Back at her dorm, the girls had already scattered off to their own rooms. Kazuha pulled you into hers, closing the door gently behind you.

“You were perfect today,” she whispered, pressing her lips to yours. “They really liked you.”

You smiled, cupping her face. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” She pushed you gently down onto her bed, straddling your lap, your hands automatically resting on her hips. “And I want to thank you.”

She kissed you again — slow, sweet, her hands trailing down your sides.

“You’re soft,” you murmured, fingers brushing the curve of her lower back.

“And you’re hard,” she giggled against your lips, rocking her hips against your lap. She could feel the stiffness beneath her, and it only made her press in closer.

Her fingers undid the top button of your jeans, her touch shy but intentional. “Can I…?”

You nodded, and she slipped her hand into your briefs, wrapping her fingers around your length, already hard and twitching.

Kazuha leaned down to kiss along your neck as her hand slowly stroked you — gentle, languid, teasing. “You were so good today. So patient with them… I wanted to drag you out right after bubble tea.”

You gasped softly, your hips twitching up into her palm.

Her lips returned to yours, tongue brushing your lower lip as her pace quickened just slightly, her thighs squeezing around your waist.

“I love making you feel good,” she whispered.

You let out a low moan, gripping her waist. “Zuha… I’m close…”

She kissed you again, slow and deep, as you spilled hot into her hand — her name muffled into her mouth. She rode your release gently, stroking you through it, only breaking the kiss to whisper:

“Mine.”

She cleaned you up with tissues, tossing them aside and climbing under the blanket with you, her head tucked under your chin.

You played with the strands of her hair, voice sleepy. “Thank you for today.”

Kazuha smiled into your neck. “Thank you for being mine.”

She fell asleep like that — in your arms, hand resting on your chest, legs tangled with yours — the softest reminder that even in a world full of spotlights and stages, you were her favorite part.

@blosmie

[blosmie]

Could you write a Kazuha one shot x gp reader, where they have been dating for a while and Kazuha introduce reader to the rest off the girls?

It’s here ! ( thanks ).

[blosmie]

‘ Pull out method? Nah ’ — Megan.Skiendiel

Synopsis ::: After a brutal exam week, your girlfriend Megan rewards you with deep, unrelenting backshots that leave you breathless — and definitely not spared. A brain-fried question about the pull-out method earns you a creampie instead.

Paring ::: Megan Skiendiel (g!p) x Fem!Reader

Warning ::: ( smut ). This contains g!p Megan, creampie, backshots, praise, dom!Megan, no condom, overstimulation, aftercare implied — Don’t be silly wrap that willy!

An - G!P megan!! Yessssss luv it. || Masterlist.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you barely had the strength to stand.

Your body ached, your mind was mush, and your limbs hung loose with exhaustion. Exams had chewed you up and spit you out. The last few weeks had been a blur of caffeine, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, and lectures you couldn’t even remember now.

You didn’t even notice Megan approaching—until you were in her arms.

“Hey,” she whispered, brushing her fingers through your hair as she kissed your forehead. “You did it.”

The sound of her voice alone had your knees wobbling. Warm, grounding, full of quiet pride.

You leaned into her chest and let yourself breathe for the first time in days.

“You look exhausted,” she murmured, pulling your hoodie off, then trailing her fingers beneath the waistband of your leggings. “I got you, alright? Let me take care of you.”

You nodded. That was all you could do. You didn’t even have the energy to be shy.

She led you to the bed gently. No rush. You climbed up on shaky limbs, not even questioning when she nudged you down onto your hands and knees. Her hands skimmed across your thighs, kneading the stress out of your muscles, then rose to your waist, squeezing slowly.

“Let me make you forget this week ever happened,” she breathed.

The sound of the lube bottle snapping open made your spine shiver.

You heard her spread it over herself — long, slow strokes that made your thighs clench in anticipation. She slicked her fingers next and rubbed the cool gel between your cheeks, circling, teasing, before gently pressing some onto your entrance.

You whimpered softly, pushing back into her touch.

“That’s it,” she praised, hand returning to grip your hip, the head of her cock now nudging at your entrance. “Just relax, baby…”

And then she slid inside.

You let out a strangled gasp, your arms shaking as she buried herself inch by inch. She filled you entirely — slow, deliberate — until her hips were flush against yours. Her breath stuttered above you.

“Fuck, baby…” she hissed. “You’re so tight…”

She didn’t move for a moment. She just held your hips, letting you feel her, letting you adjust. Then she rolled her hips forward again — once, twice — and pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

Your mouth fell open.

The strokes were deep. Measured. Like she was testing you, seeing how much you could take before you’d fall apart.

The pace gradually picked up. Her grip tightened, fingers digging into your waist as she began to move faster, her hips snapping forward harder with each thrust. Her cock dragged perfectly against your walls, hitting that sweet, dizzying spot again and again.

And the sounds — the wet slap of skin on skin, your breathless whimpers, her deep groans — filled the room with heat.

“You’re so good for me,” she panted, leaning forward, voice hot against your shoulder. “Always take me so well…”

Your body trembled.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the pleasure anymore. Your brain was fried — not just from school, but from this, from her.

That’s when it slipped out.

“M-Megan… do you—do you know the pull-out method…?”

The words were slurred, stupid, dazed. Your voice cracked on the last syllable, your head hanging low between your arms.

She froze for a second.

Then let out a soft, dangerous chuckle that ran right down your spine.

“The pull-out method…?” she repeated, slowly grinding her hips into yours. “Nah, baby…”

And then she wrecked you.

She snapped her hips hard, her pace going brutal — deep, fast, unrelenting. She wasn’t teasing anymore. She was claiming.

You cried out.

Loud. Shaking. Whimpering into the sheets as your body buckled beneath the force of her thrusts. You were completely at her mercy — the rhythm, the angle, the stretch of her cock spearing into you over and over.

Your legs gave out.

You collapsed onto your elbows, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Your voice broke into moans and gasps, eyes rolling back as heat coiled low in your belly.

“Fuck—Megan—gonna—”

“I know,” she whispered harshly, voice trembling with restraint. “Cum for me. Let go. I’ve got you.”

You did.

It hit hard, white-hot and consuming, your body spasming as your orgasm overtook you. Your walls clamped around her, squeezing tight, and Megan growled—deep, guttural—thrusting one last time as she spilled inside you.

Thick warmth flooded you in waves.

You felt every pulse, every twitch, as she emptied herself deep within your trembling core. Her hips stayed locked to yours, grinding softly as her breath hitched.

“Fuck…” she muttered, forehead resting on your back. “Goddamn…”

The room fell quiet — save for the sound of your uneven breaths and the faint echo of her release dripping between your thighs.

She pulled out slow — too slow — savoring the way you whimpered at the loss. Her hand slid down your back, soothing, then between your thighs where her cum spilled out of you.

She watched, satisfied.

“That,” she said, pulling you into her arms and kissing your temple, “was definitely not the pull-out method.”

You blinked up at her, lips parted, brain still mush.

“…you’re such a dick,” you mumbled, but the way your body curled into hers told a different story.

Megan just grinned.

“Damn right.”

@blosmie

[blosmie]

‘ Look at me, princess ’ — Sophia.Laforteza

Synopsis ::: Sophia Laforteza playfully teases you with selfies and locked gazes in front of a mirror. The slow, intimate interaction builds tension and desire, leading to a tender and sensual moment shared between you guys.

Paring ::: Sophia Laforteza x female reader (G!P)

Warning ::: ( smut ). This contains suggestive themes, slow build sexual tension, mild teasing, intimate touch, implied explicit content — Don’t be silly wrap that willy!

A/n - First time writing!! Kinda nervous y’all hope you guys like it 💕 || Masterlist

Sophia Laforteza sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her phone held up high, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she angled the camera, snapping a series of selfies. Her lips curled into a teasing smile, one that you knew all too well—the kind that promised a playful challenge.

Across the room, you watched her with a chuckle, lounging comfortably against the soft pillows. Your gaze followed her every move as she shifted, still focused on capturing the perfect shot, but never quite breaking the teasing rhythm that threaded through the air between you.

“Hey, you,” she said suddenly, her voice a blend of bratty and sweet, eyes twinkling as she lowered the phone and met yours. “Wanna see?” She flipped the screen around so you could see the photos—each one a little more provocative, more teasing than the last. Her fingers danced over the screen, scrolling slowly, inviting your attention.

You leaned forward, your own smile growing, feeling the electric tension simmering beneath the surface. “Not just see,” you said, voice low and slow, “but you’re going to take one more. One where you look at me.” You reached for her phone gently, locking her into your gaze, “Yeah, lock eyes with me, pretty princess.”

Sophia’s smirk deepened, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she tilted the phone just right and captured one more image—her eyes wide, sparkling, and entirely caught in the moment with you. Her breath hitched slightly, a soft whimper slipping from her lips as your steady gaze held hers captive.

You smiled, slow and deliberate, stepping toward her. Your fingers found her cheek, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. “Look at me, pretty princess,” you whispered, voice thick with warmth and something more. “With those beautiful eyes… yeah, that’s it.”

Sophia shivered, the teasing armor slipping for a brief moment, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart skip. Her whimper turned softer, almost a plea, as if begging for you to keep this moment suspended just a little longer.

The mirror behind her reflected the two of you perfectly—her bratty grin slowly melting into something softer, your steady confidence bridging the space between you.

You stepped closer, your breath mingling, hands sliding to her waist. “You like being caught like this, huh?” you murmured.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you gently toward her. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

And in that intimate reflection, the slow, tantalizing dance of teasing and desire began.

Sophia didn’t move when you reached for her wrist. She let you guide her off the bed with gentle pressure, feet barely touching the floor before she stood in front of you, head tilted slightly, a flicker of mock defiance in her grin.

“Gonna boss me around now?” she asked, eyes flashing.

Your thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, just once. “I don’t have to. You already gave in.”

Sophia’s lips parted—something in your voice always did that to her. She shifted on her feet, and you could feel the heat radiating off her skin in the narrow space between your bodies.

“You like playing games,” you continued, stepping closer. “But when I say look at me, you do.”

And she did.

The mirror caught her reflection over your shoulder—her flushed cheeks, the way her chest lifted with every breath, the way her thighs pressed together unconsciously. Her eyes found the glass again, and she stared at her own expression, then at yours behind her—patient, steady, and certain.

“You really like that mirror, huh?” she said, feigning casual.

“I like what it shows me.”

You let your hands slide over her hips, not rushing. You were in no hurry. Her breath caught as your palms smoothed around to her lower back. The fabric of her top barely separated you—thin, slightly oversized, and slipping down one shoulder. You nudged it further, baring her skin to the soft golden light of the room.

Sophia’s lashes fluttered as you dipped your head, lips brushing the curve between her neck and shoulder. Not kissing. Just letting her feel your breath there, warm and close.

“You’re already melting,” you murmured.

She huffed, trying to regain her edge. “I’m not.”

You met her eyes again in the mirror. “Say that again while looking at yourself.”

Her jaw tensed. You watched the shift happen—her bratty confidence faltering just slightly under your gaze, under her own reflection. Her cheeks flushed deeper. She bit her lip.

Your hands found the hem of her shirt. “Arms up.”

She obeyed.

The fabric lifted, revealing smooth skin and soft curves, her toned stomach tightening instinctively as you trailed a single finger just above the waistband of her shorts. Your touch lingered there, teasing, before slipping just beneath the elastic—not going further, just letting her feel the promise of it.

Sophia exhaled shakily. “You’re slow on purpose.”

You smiled. “Of course I am.”

Her body leaned into yours without her realizing. You let her, pressing against her lightly, guiding her until her front nearly touched the mirror. One hand at her back, the other tracing idle lines over her hip, you leaned in.

“Look at you,” you whispered. “So worked up over nothing.”

“I’m not worked up,” she muttered, but it was weaker now, tinted with need.

“No?”

You slid your hand lower, between the softness of her inner thigh, and didn’t touch anything directly—just held it there. Hovering. Letting the anticipation thicken.

Sophia whimpered.

You watched her squirm, the way she shifted slightly, trying to chase more of your touch. Your reflection in the mirror looked calm, composed. Hers looked wrecked already.

“You’re so pretty when you’re needy,” you said.

She didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Her breath came harder, lips parted in a soft moan she didn’t try to hold back.

“You wanna feel it?” you asked softly.

Sophia blinked at you in the mirror, nodding once—tiny, desperate.

“Then take these off.”

You stepped back just enough to give her space. She hesitated, not out of modesty, but because she knew what it meant—letting you watch, letting herself see too.

But she obeyed.

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down slow, teasing even herself now. She kicked them away, then glanced at her own reflection and bit her lip again.

You stepped forward and gently nudged her legs apart. “There.”

Sophia’s eyes fluttered closed.

“No,” you said. “Keep watching.”

Her eyes snapped open, and you smiled.

“Good girl.”

You reached for your waistband then, slow, deliberate, letting the tension build. Sophia watched, hypnotized. When you revealed yourself, her breath hitched—a soft gasp like she was seeing it for the first time.

You moved close behind her again, pressing the length of it between her thighs, not entering—just letting her feel. The heat of it, the weight, the way her body trembled in response.

“You feel that?”

She nodded again.

“Tell me.”

“I—I feel it,” she said, voice soft and shaky.

“Where?”

She swallowed. “Between my legs.”

You smirked. “Where you want me?”

She whimpered again. Her hips rocked back slightly, involuntarily.

You didn’t move, not yet. Just reached forward, brushing her hair to one side, kissing the back of her neck. One hand came up to gently hold her chin, tipping her head just slightly so her gaze in the mirror remained locked with yours.

Then you said it again, low, and slower.

“Look at me, pretty princess… with those beautiful eyes…”

Sophia’s breath caught.

“Yeah, that’s it…”

Her whimper broke the silence.

The room felt smaller somehow, charged with the quiet heat between you. The mirror reflected every inch of her—the subtle flush coloring her cheeks, the soft curve of her neck, the way her chest rose and fell as she struggled to steady her breath. Your eyes caught hers again, the playful spark tempered now with something more vulnerable, more raw.

Sophia shifted beneath your touch, the way her body instinctively leaned into you betraying the control she pretended to have. You could feel the slick warmth gathering where your length pressed against her thighs, the ache in her movements, the way she craved the slightest contact.

You slid your hand from her chin down to her shoulder, fingers curling lightly into the soft skin exposed by her slipping shirt. Your thumb traced the line of her collarbone, and you whispered, “I want you to watch. Watch yourself wanting me.”

She blinked, biting her lip as if she were fighting some internal battle—but the mirror showed her surrender plain as day. The glistening sheen of anticipation pooling between her legs, the flush spreading like wildfire across her skin, the way her hips pressed forward as if trying to chase your touch.

“Do you like being seen like this?” you asked, voice low and steady.

Sophia’s breath hitched. “Yes,” she whispered, voice trembling.

You let your hand wander lower, the back of your fingers tracing lazy circles over her hip, skimming the soft curve just above her thigh. Your other hand came to rest lightly at the small of her back, steadying her, grounding the moment.

“Good,” you said softly. “Because you’re not just going to watch yourself—you’re going to feel me.”

She swallowed hard, the tension in her body coiling tighter. You lifted one hand, fingers sliding along the line of her jaw before you threaded them through her hair. The heat of your palm against her scalp made her shiver, and you leaned in, lips brushing along the delicate skin behind her ear.

“Are you ready?” you asked, voice husky.

Her lips parted in a breathless nod.

You pressed forward then, the gentle slide of your length parting her thighs further. The warmth of her skin met yours, soft and slick, and you let the slow, teasing pressure build without moving deeper. The room was filled with the sounds of her breath, shallow and rapid, mingling with the quiet scrape of your movements.

The mirror captured the dance perfectly—two bodies entwined, reflected in endless intimacy. Her eyes locked on your own, the depths of desire mirrored back and forth like a silent conversation.

You traced a slow line down her side, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts again. This time, you let your hand slip inside, teasing along the tender curves with deliberate patience. Sophia whimpered softly, her hips twitching against you, begging without words.

“Look at yourself,” you whispered. “See how much you want this.”

Her lashes fluttered, tears threatening at the edges as she struggled to hold onto her teasing facade. But you knew better. The mirror didn’t lie.

You dipped your head lower, lips finding the sensitive skin just beneath her jaw, kissing slow and warm. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, breath hitching in a soft moan.

“Please,” she whispered against your mouth. “Please…”

You smiled against her skin, the bratty girl melting beneath your touch. “I’m right here,” you promised.

Your lips trailed from her jaw down to the curve of her neck, the soft skin warm beneath your mouth. Sophia’s breath hitched, fingers tightening in your hair as she leaned into your touch, the subtle arch of her back pressing more fully against you. You felt the flutter of her heartbeat through the thin fabric of her shirt and the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath your hands.

In the mirror, the two of you were a perfect portrait of intimate tension—her flushed face turned slightly, lips parted, eyes fluttering with need; you steady and attentive, every movement deliberate and sure. The reflection captured every nuanced shift of emotion, every fleeting expression, every quiet plea.

You slid your hand lower, tracing the outline of her hip and the curve where her thigh met her torso, your fingers grazing the sensitive skin just beyond the edge of her shorts. The teasing touch sent a soft shiver through her body, and she pressed herself closer, hips tilting in invitation.

“Look at you,” you murmured, voice low and filled with warmth. “So beautiful like this.”

Sophia’s eyes met yours in the mirror, shimmering with desire and trust. “I want you,” she whispered, breathless.

You smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m here.”

Slowly, tenderly, you eased yourself between her thighs, the slick warmth welcoming you, every inch a delicate balance of sensation and emotion. You moved carefully, savoring the quiet rhythm of shared breath and whispered names.

Her hands found your shoulders, grounding herself as she closed her eyes, lost in the sensation, her body molding perfectly to yours. The mirror reflected your unity—the way your movements matched, the way desire spoke through every touch, every glance, every soft sound.

Time seemed to slow, each moment stretched and savored, until the tension built to a gentle crescendo. Your lips found hers in a slow, deep kiss, the soft press of mouth on mouth a silent promise, a shared secret.

When you finally pulled away, forehead resting against hers, Sophia’s smile was tender and real, her eyes shining with warmth and satisfaction.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

You chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “No, thank you.”

The mirror caught that smile, a perfect, lasting image of connection, of playful desire met with gentle care—a moment frozen between two souls who had found something rare.

@blosmie

[blosmie]

KATSEYE𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

— Meret Manon Bannerman || Manon

ʚɞ -

— Sophia Elizabeth G. Laforteza || Sophia

ʚɞ - ‘ Look at me, princess ’ ( smut )

— Daniela Avanzini || Daniela

ʚɞ -

— Lara Rajagopalan || Lara

ʚɞ -

— Megan Meiyok Skiendiel || Megan

ʚɞ - ‘ Pull out method? Nah ’ ( smut )

[blosmie]

LE SSERAFIM 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

— Miyawaki Sakura || Sakura

ʚɞ -

— Kim Chaewon || Chaewon

ʚɞ -

— Huh Yunjin || Yunjin

ʚɞ -

— Nakamura Kazuha || Kazuha

ʚɞ - ‘ Only mine to show ’ ( smut )

[blosmie]

IVE 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

— Kim Gaeul

ʚɞ -

— An Yujin

ʚɞ -

— Naoi Rei

ʚɞ -

— Jang Wonyoung

ʚɞ -

— Kim Jiwon || Liz

ʚɞ -

[blosmie]

AESPA 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

— Yu Jimin || Karina

ʚɞ -

— Aeri Uchinaga || Giselle

ʚɞ -

— Kim Minjeong || Winter

ʚɞ - Using your Panties ( smut )

— Ning Yizhuo || Ningning

ʚɞ -

[blosmie]

Master list. 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

— Aespa

— Ive

— Le seerafim

— Katseye

[blosmie]

RULES — 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

What I will write :

— Ive ( No lesso ), Katseye ( No Yoonchae ), Le serrafim ( no Eunchae ), Aespa

— Member x Female reader

— G!P member x female reader

— Member x G!P Female reader.

— Smut, fluff, angst?

What I won’t :

— Incest

— Male readers

— Male members

— R@pe kinks ( HELL NAW )

— Piss kink.

[blosmie]

NAVAGATION — Zzz 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ʚɞ

Sup! || 19 || Only Girl group x fem reader!!! || Requests open!!!

Stan ( I write for ) :

— Aespa, Katseye, Le sserafim & Ive

RULES || MASTER - LIST || blosmie.