all of eoieopda's seventeen fics + drabbles are linked below the cut.
psa: minors who like, reblog, and/or comment on any of my content (regardless of whether it's NSFW or not) will be hard blocked immediately. my blog is strictly 18+, so please indicate your (adult) age in your bio and/or pinned post before engaging with me.
navigation. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules. headcanons.
🚧 undergoing inclusivity edits as of 8/1/24.
choi seungcheol
the one with seungcheol and the white flag ⚡️ // established relationship au // in which seungcheol intends to show you how sorry he is. — 7/30/23
the one with seungcheol and the ruse ☁️ // brother’s best friend au // in which somebody needs to embarrass your ex. — request fill, 8/9/23
more seungcheol content coming soon...
hong jisoo
all my dreamin’ ☁️⚡️ // established relationship au // your LA boyfriend wasn't built for midwest winters. ⇢ insp. by hozier's "to someone from a warm climate (uiscefhuarithe)" — 9/18/23
more joshua content coming soon...
wen junhui
in limine ☁️⚡️// co-workers to lovers + law firm au // you think that by remaining single this year, you’ve found a loophole in your string of shitty valentine’s days. the universe thinks you should lose your paralegal on the eve of a major trial and see if you wouldn’t rather have all of those untimely breakups and missed dates instead. – 2/13/25.
more junhui content coming soon...
kwon soonyoung
the one with soonyoung and the domino ⚡️ // established relationship au // in which it's unclear who's more competitive: you or soonyoung. — 6/20/23
sweatshirt season ⚡️☁️ // fuck buddies au // your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them. — 10/29/23
🌱 sugar on the rim ⭐️⚡️☁️ // fuck buddies au // your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them. (sweatshirt season from hoshi’s pov w/ time skips filled). — tbd.
more soonyoung content coming soon...
jeon wonwoo
one to ten ☁️ // roommates to ? au, hurt/comfort, spoonie!reader // your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. — 11/25/23
🌱 title tbd ⚡️☁️ // strangers to lovers au, dealer au // tba
more wonwoo content coming soon...
lee jihoon
the one with jihoon and the gold medal ☁️ // best friends au // in which jihoon is the featherweight champion of pining and your tipsy ass needs to be escorted home. — 7/17/23
insomniac ⚡️// established relationship au // there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out. — 7/27/24
more jihoon content coming soon...
lee seokmin
table for two ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokmin thinks recovery looks beautiful on you. (please read tw's) — 4/7/24
triple-dog dare ⚡️☁️ 🌊 // childhood friends to lovers au // when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. – 1/4/25
more seokmin content coming soon...
kim mingyu
the one with mingyu and the twin bed ⚡️// established relationship au, home for the holidays au // in which mingyu can’t get a grip because you won’t keep yours to yourself. — 6/5/23
more mingyu content coming soon...
chwe hansol
tidal. ⚡️☁️ // established relationship au // but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” — 8/20/23
more vernon content coming soon...
lee chan
superpower ☁️ // friends to ? // in which lee chan can sober up on a dime if you need him to. — request fill, 12/5/23
🌱 far from home ⭐️⚡️🌊 // fallout (post-apocalypse) au // tba
all of eoieopda's ateez fics + drabbles will be linked below the cut.
psa: minors who like, reblog, and/or comment on any of my content (regardless of whether it's NSFW or not) will be hard blocked immediately. my blog is strictly 18+, so please indicate your (adult) age in your bio and/or pinned post before engaging with me.
navigation. ateez permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules. headcanons.
📍due to personal preference, requests + fics will be limited to the members listed below.
kim hongjoong
hongjoong content coming soon...
park seonghwa
seonghwa content coming soon...
jeong yunho
sudden + (a)cute ☁️ // sick fic (hurt/comfort), friends to something // jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold. — 12/11/23
more yunho content coming soon...
kang yeosang
yeosang content coming soon...
choi san
san content coming soon...
song mingi
mingi content coming soon...
jung wooyoung
whiskey neat ⚡️// strangers to something // there’s no common ground between yours and wooyoung’s vastly different circles. that is, until tuesday nights at the black cat form the center of the venn diagram. — 8/3/24
I saw your BTS x Hozier post and I wanted to know if you can do Seveenteen with Taylor Swift lyrics <3 Thank you!
asdfgjkl this was so hard, hahaha. i haven't listened to much taylor swift, so i hope i did this some semblance of justice!! 🥴
seungcheol: new years' day (reputation)
i can tell that it's gonna be a long road / i'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe / or if you strike out and you're crawling home
jeonghan: cowboy like me (evermore)
you're a bandit like me / eyes full of stars / hustling for the good life / never thought i'd meet you here / it could be love
joshua: don't save me (reputation)
my name is whatever you decide / and i'm just gonna call you mine / i'm insane, but i'm your baby
junhui: willow (evermore)
head on the pillow, i could feel you sneakin' in / as if you were a mythical thing / like you were a trophy or a champion ring / and there was one prize i'd cheat to win
soonyoung: gorgeous (reputation)
you should take it as a compliment / that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk / you should think about the consequence / of your magnetic field being a little too strong
wonwoo: ivy (evermore)
oh, i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows / and now i'm covered in you
jihoon: cardigan (folklore)
and when i felt like i was an old cardigan / under someone's bed / you put me on and said i was your favorite
seokmin: dress (reputation)
i’m spilling wine in the bathtub / you kiss my face and we're both drunk / everyone thinks that they know us / but they know nothin'
mingyu: long story short (evermore)
and he's passing by / rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky / and he feels like home / if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go
minghao: you're on your own, kid (midnights)
everything you lose is a step you take / so, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it / you've got no reason to be afraid
seungkwan: maroon (midnights)
"how'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" you say / "your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how" / i see you every day now
vernon: delicate (reputation)
is it cool that i said all that? / is it chill that you're in my head? / 'cause i know that it's delicate
chan: mirrorball (folklore)
when they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns / i'm still on that tightrope / i'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me
Hi, could you do a drabble where your boyfriend Yoongi has to constantly compete against your cat for your affection/attention
SOFT YOONGI HOURS!!!!!!!! i loved this idea so, so much. poor pouty baby :(
Contrary to what Yoongi seemed to think, you could feel him glaring. Not at you — the only other person present — but at the heap of long, grey fur stretched out over your torso and extended legs. Sprawled out across that oversized armchair, your feet swung idly below your knees as they hinged over the plush fabric of the chair’s arm.
A picture of perfect coziness; so blatantly contrary to your boyfriend’s rigid posture on the adjacent couch.
He also failed to notice the way your gaze would flicker from the screen ahead to the periphery — to him and his subtly narrowed eyes. You’d had your suspicions for months now, ever since you moved in together, but his stony expression then was the clearest he’d ever made it:
Min Yoongi was jealous of a cat. And, brat that you were, you seized the opportunity to tease him for it.
Fingers stroking gently down Michiru’s back, you smirked to yourself and turned your attention back to the television. She was a puddle on your chest, melting further and further into purrs until her yellow orbs drooped into blissed-out crescent moons.
“Are you tired, baby?” You hummed as you continued your ministrations. Eyes still purposefully fixed on Alley Restaurant, you created the pitfall for Yoongi to fall in. “Should we go to bed?”
Oblivious to your scheme, in a voice so tiny that your nonchalant mask nearly cracked, Yoongi peeped, “Yes, please.”
“Hmm?” You turned to him as if his response was a surprise. Like you’d forgotten he was there. Then, laying it on thick, you giggled, “Oh, I was talking to Michiru-sama. She looks exhausted, doesn’t she?”
Mouth pulling outwards in a straight line, Yoongi’s displeasure came out as a wordless grunt. It took all your restraint not to laugh at his very poorly hidden pout. Swallowing it down, you pursed your lips tight and looked away before he could catch on.
That poor boy always tried so, so hard to pretend like affection was something he merely — occasionally — tolerated. Like he didn’t want to be the one half-asleep in your lap, with your fingertips rubbing slow circles into his scalp. As if he was just shy of annoyed whenever you pounced on him and polka-dotted kisses over every millimeter of his grimacing face.
The truth was that Min Yoongi was soft. Sooner or later, you’d get him to admit it.
You sat in silence for a few minutes before he eventually stirred. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him toss the knitted throw off his lap and make to stand. So, you figured, he’d thrown in the towel and was now going to be grumpy — alone — in bed. But then, you saw him fluff that discarded blanket into the shape of a circle.
One more harrumph and Yoongi was on his way to you.
Saying nothing, he gently scooped Michiru into his arms. She was too sleepy to react, opting instead to spill out slowly over his forearms like molasses. He ignored the way your eyes widened while your lap-warmer was extricated; and he continued to do so as he placed her into the little blanket bagel he’d crafted. There was an undeniable smugness on his face when she curled up and let her eyes drift shut again. Entirely unbothered.
And then he turned back to you.
“What are you —?” You squeaked out a laugh as his arms hooked under your bent knees and back. Just as carefully as he’d lifted Michiru, Yoongi pulled you off the armchair. He held you just long enough to turn around and plop himself down in the space you were previously occupying with a satisfied sigh.
Wiggling until you were nestled comfortably against his chest, you looked up to find him gazing at the television instead of back at you. Still smirking, of course, pretending not to notice that there was a full-fledged human being in his lap.
You tugged gently at one of the strings dangling from his sweatshirt hood. When he didn’t so much as blink, you nudged, “Are we not going to acknowledge what’s happening here?”
“What’s that, love?” Yoongi asked, feigning surprise at your voice but still not looking, “Or are you talking to my adversary again?”
You furrowed your brow, lifted your hand from your lap, and poked his cheek lightly with your index finger. “I’m talking to my boyfriend about the turf war he’s waging with our pet.”
“I’m not waging a war, baby,” Yoongi corrected you softly. Finally, he tilted his head downward to kiss your forehead. You could feel his lips curve into a smile as they hovered over your skin, “I obviously just won it.”
Hello lovely lady :) I’m here to pretty please request a JK drabble because I miss him terribly and if you have the time because I very much am in love with your writing 🥹🥹 Tattoo artist JK who gets a crazy stupid adult crush on a customer who comes to him to do a very meaningful tattoo for her and they spend all night eating and talking afterwards and it’s all giggly and cute because he will find any reason to touch her 😭😭 and now I’m going to jump off a cliff bc I miss him so much LOL
sorry for the wait, sweet bean!
cw: mention of needles, general reference to trauma (not described); description of a bad tattoo i've seen in real life; reader gets one of my actual tattoos because fuck it, we ball.
Jeon Jungkook considered himself an artist. This wasn't based on his literal job title, but on the immeasurable time and effort he spent studying, practicing, and working as an apprentice. On the sheer number of oranges that went off to rot in dumpsters with shakily tattooed skin.
For years, he placed permanent art on the bodies of strangers for tips only — if clients bothered with the courtesy, that is. Little designs off the flash sheet, last-minute friendship tattoos for university students who'd fall out of touch upon graduating. It was grueling work, but it was worth it.
When he finished his apprenticeship and was promoted to resident artist, Jungkook figured that he'd spend his days seriously — on serious shit that took hours to design and even longer to translate onto a living, breathing, squirming canvas. That was the hope, anyway.
In reality, Jungkook had spent the entirety of his day doing unspeakably stupid shit. He'd just finished tattooing "Seoul" in hiragana for a tourist who didn't seem to know which side of the Strait he was on — and then you walked in.
You shouldn't have been the only person he'd seen all day that already had tattoos, but you were. You clearly knew how this was supposed to go; and Jungkook almost started floating when the crushing weight of his exasperation finally fell off his shoulders.
Finally.
He didn't mean to audibly sigh with relief when you stepped up to the counter. He did, though, and he was well past the point of giving a shit if that should have embarrassed him.
"Rough day?" You tilted your head to the side when you asked and you looked genuinely concerned, even with that tiny, sideways smile.
Jungkook was torn. Yours was a face worth staring at, but the gallery spreading over both of your exposed arms was one he wanted to get lost in. He knew more than anyone how fucking it weird it was when strangers gave themselves permission to run their hands over his skin — but he might finally understand the urge.
Swallowing down that intrusive desire, Jungkook gripped his Red Bull can even tighter in his left hand — twenty ounces, reserved exclusively for the most severe instances of brain rot — and balled his right hand into a fist. He rapped his knuckles against the countertop and shot you a grin, "Nah, it's golden."
Jungkook had been right about two things. The first was that you weren't a fainter, a flincher, or a cry-baby.
If he hadn't stolen so many glances at you throughout the session; and if your quiet laughter wasn't the pacemaker preventing his swooning heart from stopping; he might've thought that you were meditating. Sleeping, even, or hit with a freeze ray. You were still, entirely unfazed like you weren't being stabbed thousands of times per second with a bouquet of needles.
Jungkook was also dead-on that this day, despite its frustrating start, was golden. Better yet, it didn't end when your session did. When he'd blurted out an invitation to dinner, you said yes.
Sitting down across the table from him with your forearm dutifully covered in cling-wrap, you shot him an adorably sheepish smile. "Could you, um —?" You gestured to the perilla leaves on your plate with the chopsticks in your non-dominant hand. "I'm not as dexterous as I was two hours ago."
"I'm on it, boss."
He didn't have time to cringe over that statement or the wink that accompanied it because your knuckles brushed his when you slid your plate to him and — Are you a child? Why are you blushing? For fuck's sake, get a grip, Jeon.
You sipped your beer as you watched him; and it had Jungkook fumbling as if he was using chopsticks for the first time in his life and not the thousandth. Thankfully, instead of laughing at him, you asked, "So, what's the dumbest tattoo you've had to do for someone?"
"Cartoon corn-on-the-cob," Jungkook responded without hesitation. The memory was burned into his brain, a tattoo in its own right. "But that alone isn't the worst part, and neither is the fact that its face looked like it was moaning with a pat of butter sliding down its front."
You groaned, but you were grinning, "Jesus. Do I even want to know the worst part?"
"Butter me up, daddy."
Automatically, you raised your freshly-tattooed arm and slapped your hand over your mouth to keep your drink inside it. You winced at the sting on your skin and, no doubt, the burn in your chest as you coughed, "Come again?"
Jungkook slid your plate back over to you with pursed lips. Then, he took a deep breath. "That was the script they wanted to go with it," He sighed, "I spent a decade of my life on my craft and that is what I do with it."
"I'm sure the linework on the horny corn was beautiful, though." Your eyes sparkled when your tone softened. The sight of you stopped him from laughing at the words you chose.
He gestured down to the vintage floor lamp he'd etched in fine black ink on your forearm. "Looks better when the person I'm tattooing sits still," He smiled, "And you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you put thought into that, rather than thirst. Otherwise, I will have follow-up questions about whatever kink that might be."
Ugh, that giggle.
"Have you heard of ghost lights before?" You asked between bites of your kimchi.
When Jungkook shook his head, you cleared your throat to explain. "When you close up a theater after a show, you have to put a lamp on the stage. It's primarily a safety thing — keeps people from falling over set pieces or into the orchestra pit — but it helps out with ghosts, too."
Jungkook shifted in his chair and leaned in a little closer to more clearly hear what came next. He was riveted, and there was no hiding it.
"There are a couple of different superstitions about why it's done, but the one I grew up with was that it keeps ghosts from messing with your props and technical equipment while you're gone."
You quieted before you tacked on the amendment, corner of your mouth momentarily twitching up into a sad smile, "Figured this tattoo might help me ward off some of my own."
Your hand was close enough to his on the table that he could've pretended it was an accident. He didn't, though. The microscopic movement until his little finger touched yours was intentional; and he wanted you to know it.
Not daring to move that hand away, Jungkook grabbed his drink with the other and raised it. He waited for you to raise yours, too, before cheering, "To ghosts that mind their own fucking business!"
the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky
Requested by Anon: Kim Seokjin got really drunk on a members-night-out, so his fiancée has to pick his cute, clingy ass up. ft. late-night wake-ups, gn!reader, and a lot of feelings about science.
A/N: I accidentally deleted the draft associated with this ask, so now it's a separate post. Sorry for the wait, anon!
When Seokjin left for the evening, he'd placed a kiss on your forehead and a new book in your hands.
The novel in question was some obscure, independently published thing Namjoon had recommended. You'd mentioned it to Seokjin in passing — weeks ago — but hadn't had the downtime to seek it out since. Even if you had somehow carved out a moment to scour the local bookshops, you wouldn't have had the spare hours to immerse yourself in it the way you'd want to.
Not enough to meaningfully discuss its themes with Namjoon, anyway.
But Seokjin was Seokjin. He'd made some secret, mental note about what you said; hunted down that old single-edition book; and come up with a reason to spend his Saturday night elsewhere. He and his friends would get dinner and drinks — you'd get an overdue bubble bath and the solitude necessary to study for your unofficial, impromptu, two-member book club.
And that's precisely how you'd spent your night before tucking yourself into bed at the beautifully reasonable hour of half-past nine.
When your phone went off four hours later, you thought you were dreaming. You squinted at the screen for so long, trying to wrap your brain around the contact information blaring into your bleary eyes, that you almost failed to answer.
"Namjoon?" You croaked, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide from the offensive lamp light beaming off your bedside table. "I'm gonna need, like, a liter of coffee before I can wax poetic about the —"
"Hey, noona, it's Namjoon-ah!" He cut you off before you could finish. If the delayed, rhyming introduction didn't tip you off, the snorting, self-inflicted laughter would have.
Kim Namjoon, the designated dad of the friend group, was irrefutably ripped, zipped, and zooted.
You scrubbed your hand over your face in a futile attempt to stop your forming grin in its tracks. "Your picture popping up on my phone told me as much," You chuckled through your exhaustion, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this wake-up call?"
You heard him shout geonbae and gulp down some sort of shot before he provided you with an answer.
"Sojin has entered the chat," He announced with an absurd, deepened voice. Immediately, he cackled, "Get it? It's a portmanteau of soju and Seokjin, who is shitfaced — anyways, can you come get your man?"
It took you five minutes to throw on clothes and shuffle out the door to your car. The drive to the bar took only slightly longer, though it was the traffic lights and not the distance that slowed you down.
Unfortunately, twenty years came and went while you tackled the dreaded, subsequent task: parallel fucking parking.
The stress of it all nearly had you sweating by the time you entered the bar — you'd be hearing all that judgmental honking in your sleep, once you got back to it — but it all evaporated the second you saw Seokjin.
Off in the far corner, he sat on the outer half of a bench. Trapped inside that booth, visibly waiting for the sweet release of death, was Min Yoongi. You couldn't make out the details of that predominantly one-sided conversation, but you could tell by Seokjin's wild gesticulating and pink-tipped ears that he was ranting about something.
Bits and pieces fell into place as you made your away over, but no part of the overheard conversation made much sense to you.
Seokjin hiccupped, "I've said it once and I'll s-say it again —"
"— Hyung, I guarantee you've said it way more than once —" Yoongi attempted to interject, but he was quickly silenced by more of Seokjin's animated hand-waving.
"— Magic. It's magic, Yoongi. I'm tell — I'm telling you, man. There's just — hic — Science is stupid. I don't care about it, you know? And do you want — you wanna know why, Yoongi? Well, I'll t-tell you why —"
As he blinked emphatically at Yoongi, Seokjin must've somehow sensed you across the bar. He stopped dead in the middle of his unsolicited dissertation, wide-eyed with his jaw dropped, and gasped, "Baby!"
Before you could physically brace yourself for impact, he'd launched his clumsy frame out of his seat and collected you in his arms. Within seconds, without time to blink, his warm cheek was smushed against yours. Plush lips fluttered near your ear as he mumbled, "I missed you."
Of course, it'd only been a few hours since he last saw you, but he held you like you'd just returned from years at sea. Breathing deeply and contentedly, likely taking in the scent of your shampoo. Gently clutching the fabric of your jacket in his hands as if you'd float away otherwise. You had no desire whatsoever to burst that perfect, loving bubble, so you simply squeezed him tighter and told him that you'd missed him more.
Over his shoulder, you saw relief wash over Yoongi's face. No longer held hostage, he scooted himself out of the booth and immediately twisted in place to crack his back.
How long had he been stuck in there?
"Thank fuck," Yoongi sighed as he proceeded to crack his neck. He rolled his shoulders while answered the question you were about to ask, "Twenty entire minutes. Barely paused long enough to breathe, so I thought, shit — what if he dies here? I was scared I'd have to spend the rest of my days in this booth."
Seokjin, who still hadn't untangled himself from you, simply giggled. With his cheek remaining flush to yours, you could feel him grinning. He offered nothing whatsoever in his own defense, so Yoongi waved at you and turned to head off towards the restrooms.
You called out after him, prompting him to turn around. "What's so stupid about science?"
Yoongi's mouth stretched into a straight line across the entire bottom half of his face; his eyes narrowed to match. He heaved yet another sigh, gestured languidly to the half-cut fiancée clinging to you like a vest, and smirked, "He's convinced you hung the stars in the sky."
You would've melted into a puddle on the spot, but then Seokjin piped up and promptly shot your unsuspecting, lovestruck heart over the moon instead.
Abruptly changing the subject, he whispered — suddenly serious, as if it was the most important question in the world:
