001. library ⭑ rules ⭑ requests closed

❝ he knits, he paints, he draws, he writes poems, he romantices life, he loves flowers, he sends clips of cats he sees on the streets, he likes photography, he's a hard worker, he's a hopeless romantic, he sends pictures of flowers he finds pretty, he reads books, he cares about the little things in life, he is the STANDARD 𓈒

002. 18+ blog, minors not welcomed

ateez blog — @cigsaftersan

REQUESTS CLOSED!

001. ─── I'LL ONLY WRITE WHEN INSPIRATION HITS, PLEASE DO EXPECT SPORADIC UPDATES. expect requests to take some time as i won’t always answer them quickly.

002. ─── i mostly write male idol x female reader but i will also write gn!reader or male reader or whatever is requested.

003. ─── i write fluff, angst, as well as smut as long as smut requests stay reasonable and within my boundaries, which mean i absolutely WON'T write about;

• member x member

• rape / non-con / abuse

• incest / stepcest

• extreme age gap

• daddy kink

004. ─── all rights reserved. no part of my work is to be reposted / translated / used in any kind of platform without my permission. i only use tumblr to post fics !

⭑ ATEEZ.

[ OT8 HEADCANON. ]

⊹ favorite features on you. | fluff, slightly suggestive

⊹ drunk sex moments. | 18+; headcanon, crack

⊹ who loves to be marked? | 18+/nsfw; sub!ateez x dom!reader

⊹ things you do that gives them butterflies. | soft hours, casual intimacy

⊹ choked vs. getting choked. | 18+; preference, choking

⊹ head pushers vs. hair pullers. | 18+; smut, oral (receiving)

⊹ attractive things they do. | random fluff, bf!ateez

⊹ them as subs. | 18+/nsfw; sub!ateez x dom!reader

⊹ ragebaiting them. | fake texts

[ HONGJOONG. ]

[ SEONGHWA. ]

⊹ rock, paper, scissors. | 18+; imagine, college au, fem!reader

[ YUNHO. ]

⊹ his hands. | nsfw mentions, size difference, fluff

⊹ web of desires. | spiderman!yunho, fluff, best friends to possible lovers

[ YEOSANG. ]

[ SAN. ]

⊹ his sleeping habits. | comfort fluff, slightly suggestive

[ MINGI. ]

[ WOOYOUNG. ]

⊹ the bus ride. | 18+; one shot, very detailed talk of sexual acts

[ JONGHO. ]

⭑ STRAY KIDS.

[ OT8 HEADCANON. ]

⊹ when they touch your butt. | nsfw; affection, lime

⊹ favorite type of dates. | general audience; bf!skz

⊹ your sugar daddy. | 18+/nsfw; au, spoiling you rotten

⊹ who loves to be marked? | 18+/nsfw; giving or receiving

⊹ hand placements. | domestic fluff, playful touches

⊹ type of sub they are. | 18+/nsfw; sub!skz x dom!reader

[ BANG CHAN. ]

⊹ playing with his hair. | blurb, domestic fluff, hair play

⊹ you overfed berry. | prank, fake text

[ LEE KNOW. ]

⊹ you overfed dori. | prank, fake text

⊹ first snow. | best friends to lovers

⊹ he asks you to move in. | domestic fluff, drunk!reader

[ CHANGBIN. ]

[ HYUNJIN. ]

⊹ his canvas. | nsfw; blurb, fluff/comfort, suggestive

⊹ you overfed kkami. | prank, fake text

[ HAN. ]

⊹ you overfed bbama. | prank, fake text

[ FELIX. ]

⊹ freckles. | fluff/comfort, sweet nothings

[ SEUNGMIN. ]

[ I.N. ]

synopsis. between hectic schedules and cities that never stay still, the only constant was his voice notes — short, careful, and always just enough. but one night, jeongin sends something different. longer. braver. honest. in a world where feelings have to stay hidden, a single message under the moonlight changes everything. because some truths are too quiet to say out loud — but too strong to ignore.

[ (stray kids) yang jeongin x female reader ] idol!i.n x idol!female reader, fluff, long-distance, soft confession, inspired by ‘can’t fight the moonlight’ by leann rimes | warning/s: none

the hotel room was colder than usual. not because of the air conditioning, but because of the silence.

after a long day of rehearsals and press interviews, you’d finally peeled off your stage outfit, scrubbed away the heavy makeup, and pulled your hair into a loose braid. everything still smelled like hairspray and perfume and too much effort. the city outside your window buzzed faintly — unfamiliar and restless.

your phone was plugged in by the nightstand, but you hadn’t touched it in hours. you knew he wouldn’t call. he never did.

yang jeongin didn’t like phone calls.

too personal. too risky. too easy to say things he didn’t mean to say.

but he always sent voice notes.

it had started during your japan promotions, when your group and stray kids had overlapped in seoul for a total of… two hours. just enough time to exchange glances, and realize how much harder it would be to stay away now that you’d debuted. you weren’t supposed to get close. but somewhere between music shows, award season, and late-night hallway conversations, you had.

and when you left, he’d started sending those tiny, casual, clumsy voice notes. never more than thirty seconds. never too much. but always enough to make your heart skip.

that night, you stared out the window at the full moon hanging low over madrid’s skyline, pale and gentle. then your phone buzzed.

jeongin <3 | 1 voice message — 0:24

you smiled before even playing it.

“hey. i just finished eating. the chicken was mid. i don’t know why i’m telling you that.”

he paused.

“anyway. look at the moon when you get a chance. it’s really big tonight. it reminded me of you.”

that last part was whispered, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

you held your breath and replayed the message three more times.

then sent one back.

“stop eating chicken without me. you’re gonna ruin your stomach, yang.”

a breathy laugh.

“and the moon’s prettier where i am. just saying.”

beat.

“i miss you.”

you didn’t usually say things like that. but tonight, the moonlight made it easier.

his reply didn’t come until two days later. you assumed it was just because of the schedule.

but then, late at night, long after your members had fallen asleep, your phone buzzed again.

jeongin <3 | 1 voice message — 4:32

your chest tightened.

four minutes? he’d never sent one that long before.

your hands were suddenly cold, thumb hovering over the play button.

you pressed it.

“okay… don’t freak out. but i might be slightly drunk.”

your eyes widened.

“like—not blackout drunk, just… comfortably tipsy. the hyungs took me out after our last stage. and, i don’t know… i don’t usually drink. but they were celebrating, and i didn’t wanna be the boring one. you’d probably laugh if you saw me.”

he chuckled softly.

“you always say i act cold, right? but i think being around you makes it harder to pretend. and alcohol kind of makes that worse. or better. depending on how you look at it.”

your heart was racing. you pulled the covers up to your chest, like they could calm the chaos building in your ribs.

“i miss you.”

the words were sudden. honest. not dressed up or hidden.

“i miss the way you say my name like you’re scolding me, but you’re not really mad. i miss the way your face lights up when you’re excited about stupid things. i even miss you yelling at me about eating too much meat.”

you laughed quietly into the dark.

“i know we’re not supposed to say these things. but i don’t really care tonight. changbin kept teasing me, said i get affectionate when i drink. he’s not wrong.”

pause.

“i hugged hyunjin-hyung and tried to kiss jisung’s forehead, and they were both like, ‘jeongin, stop it!’”

he laughed again, shy and warm.

“but all i could think about was you. like, if you were here, i’d probably just… pull you into my arms and not let go.”

you didn’t know how to breathe.

“sometimes, i wonder if this is all in my head. if i’m just being stupid. but then i hear your voice, or read one of your messages, or see the moon and remember that we’re under the same sky… and it doesn’t feel stupid anymore.”

there was a long pause.

then, softer:

“i think i really like you. like—more than i should. and i think if we were normal people, i would’ve told you that already. maybe kissed you in some parking lot after a concert or held your hand on a bus ride without worrying about cameras.”

the voice note went quiet for a moment, like he was debating whether to finish.

then—

“you don’t have to say anything back. i just… wanted you to know. i’m going to sleep now. hopefully i won’t delete this in the morning.”

and that was it.

the screen went still. the moonlight painted the walls in pale silver. your hands shook a little.

he said it.

no more hints. no more safe silences. he’d said it.

and he was probably already asleep. or passed out. or both.

you stared at the blinking cursor on your reply screen for what felt like an hour.

then finally hit record.

“you’re lucky i’m not there, yang. i’d have smacked your arm for saying all that while tipsy. but also…”

you sighed, smiling to yourself.

“you’re also lucky you’re not here. because i’d definitely kiss you right now.”

a pause.

“i like you too. more than i should.”

you sent it. no overthinking. no rewriting.

and for once, the silence afterward wasn’t heavy.

it felt peaceful. soft. full of something unspoken but understood.

you looked up at the moon one last time and whispered to it like a secret:

“please don’t let him regret saying it.”

the sunlight that pulled jeongin out of sleep wasn’t kind. it didn’t ease in through the curtains or warm his skin gently — it pierced, unforgiving, through the gap in the blackout drapes, landing harshly across his face like judgment. his eyes blinked open slowly, crusted at the corners, the rest of his body unwilling to follow. his limbs ached, not from dancing, but from something heavier, something deeper.

the air in the room was stale. that kind of heavy, post-midnight-hotel-silence stale. the kind that made it hard to tell what time it was without checking your phone — which, by the way, wasn’t anywhere in sight.

for a long time, he didn’t move. just laid there, eyes half-open, heart unsettled by something he couldn’t yet name. he felt… weird. like he was forgetting something important. or maybe like he’d remembered something he wasn’t supposed to.

then his fingers brushed against his phone, tangled somewhere in the sheets. he pulled it close, screen lighting up the moment it recognized his face. the brightness made him wince.

9:42 am. two missed messages from seungmin. one “where r u” and one long string of skull emojis.

but it wasn’t seungmin’s name that made the nausea crawl up his spine. it was yours.

you | voice message — 0:26

he stared.

for a second, he didn’t breathe.

and then he scrolled up. and froze.

y/n‘s played jeongin’s voice message — 4:32

four minutes.

his thumb hovered over the audio like it was a live wire. he didn’t remember sending anything that long. and if he didn’t remember…

oh no.

his chest was tight. he tapped play.

and there he was.

“okay… don’t freak out. but i might be slightly drunk—”

he stopped the message immediately.

his stomach dropped out. his head fell back against the pillow. he stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like he’d just witnessed a car crash in slow motion.

he had.

he’d told you.

everything.

he sat up, limbs slow, phone still clutched in one hand. his other hand dragged through his hair, pulling at the roots, as if that could rewind time.

he scrubbed his face once. twice. then hit play again. forced himself to listen. every word made his spine curve in embarrassment. every laugh he heard from his own mouth made him wince.

but it was honest.

unfiltered.

it was exactly what he’d been thinking for months — whispered between managers’ backs, buried under every stolen glance, choked down during every midnight walk where he saw the moon and wished he could share it with you.

and now it was out there.

he didn’t even remember pressing send.

he stayed like that for a long time — just sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, elbows on his knees, phone limp in his hand. he couldn’t decide if he was relieved or terrified. maybe both.

eventually, when he felt like he could physically handle it, he tapped on your message.

the sound of your voice hit him like cool air on sunburned skin.

“you’re lucky i’m not there, yang. i’d have smacked your arm for saying all that while tipsy…”

he huffed out a laugh — one of those chest-deep ones that you don’t fully control.

“…but also… you’re lucky you’re not here. because i’d definitely kiss you right now.”

he closed his eyes.

“i like you too. more than i should.”

it echoed. not just in the room, not just in his phone, but somewhere inside him. in that place where he’d kept the hope hidden like a fragile thing, not trusting it to live too long in daylight.

and now… it wasn’t hope anymore. it was real. it was words. it was you.

he didn’t move for hours.

the day passed him by like a movie in another language — familiar rhythms, but none of the meaning registering. he showed up to rehearsal late, with no explanation. barely danced. barely spoke.

chan asked if he’d been crying. felix kept throwing him suspicious glances. even minho, who usually stayed out of emotional territory unless invited, hovered near him at lunch but didn’t press.

everyone could tell something had changed. but none of them asked.

he was grateful for that.

because how could he explain that his entire inner world had just shifted? that something between them — between you and him — had cracked open gently, quietly, and the light was still pouring in, slow and sacred?

there was no way to explain it. it wasn’t loud. it wasn’t dramatic.

it was… full.

that night, after practice, he sat by the window in his room. didn’t bother turning on the lights. the moon was out again — a little dimmer than before, but still there. still pulling on something inside his chest.

he held his phone again. jeongin stared at the glowing screen of his phone, his thumb frozen just above the call button. the quiet of the room was heavy, like it was holding its breath with him. his mind raced through every possible outcome, every way this could go wrong. what if he sounded foolish? what if he ruined the fragile trust you’d both quietly built over late-night voice notes and stolen glances across crowded rooms?

but then his thoughts shifted to your voice—the way it had softened when you said you liked him too, the gentle sincerity that made his chest ache with something he didn’t want to name but couldn’t ignore. that tiny spark of hope, delicate and bright, pulled him forward.

with a shaky breath, he pressed the call button.

the line rang once, twice. each ring echoed louder in the silent room, reverberating in his heart like a countdown.

and then—

“…hello?”

your voice was soft. tentative. but there.

jeongin blinked like he hadn’t expected it to actually connect. his throat tightened, but he forced the words out before fear could pull them back.

“it’s me,” he said. “i mean—yeah. it’s jeongin.”

a pause.

“hi,” you whispered.

and that broke something in him. because he could hear it — the warmth, the shyness, the tiny trace of a smile. you weren’t mad. you weren’t avoiding him.

you were there. just like before.

“i wasn’t sure if i should call,” he admitted, rubbing his palm against his knee. “i didn’t wanna make things weird. i know that message was… a lot.”

“it wasn’t too much,” you said quietly.

he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“i remember all of it,” he said. “the things i said. i meant them.”

“i know.”

another pause stretched between you. but it didn’t feel empty. it felt like both of you were trying to let it settle — the truth of it, the quietness, the weight.

“i meant what i said too,” you added. “i didn’t think you’d feel the same. but i’m glad you do.”

jeongin leaned back against the wall.

silence stretched. but it wasn’t empty.

“i wanted to hear your voice,” he said quietly. “i’m not tipsy now,” he added. “so if i say it again, it’ll be worse. because i’ll remember it.”

you let out a breath that sounded like a smile.

“then say it.”

his voice broke just slightly as he did.

“i like you.”

there was no panic now. no fear. just truth.

and your reply came almost instantly.

“i like you too, yang jeongin.”

neither of you said anything more after that. the line stayed open — not because you had more to say, but because not saying anything suddenly meant everything.

no rushing. no planning. no labels.

synopsis. miscommunication means you end your night at minho’s apartment and he ends his at yours; minho suggests a simple solution.

[ (stray kids) lee minho x female reader ] domestic fluff, established relationship | warning/s: reader is drunk and hungover

you scream silently as the electronic lock rings out throughout the apartment; its bleeping penetrating the silence with inappropriate glee. you grimace as you tiptoe in and gently place the door back in its frame. again, the lock announces itself, bleeping to signify that the door is secure. you grimace and freeze, listening for any sign that someone was disturbed by your entrance. nothing stirs, so you carefully take off your shoes, place them on the floor and pad, in just your socks, to the bedroom. you make it without crashing into anything, despite your stumbling, and you take a deep breath to try to wake your mind up a little before turning your attention to the second door in your way.

agonisingly slowly, you grip the handle and turn; every muscle in your body feels tense from trying to be quiet. you find that it has a surprisingly stabilising effect and you are able to stop swaying, even though the apartment continues to tilt and twist around you. you know minho’s expecting you but you still don’t want to disturb him. you know how hard he’s been working recently; it has been difficult to find time to spend together which is precisely why you’re creeping into his apartment after a night out. you might not be able to spend the night together but at least you can wake up with each other in the morning.

as you pop your head around the door, carefully releasing the handle as you do, confusion hits you. there’s no one in bed. in fact, the bed is made; no one has even slept in it.

‘where the hell is he?’ you think to yourself. there’s no light from under the door and no sound beyond it, but you check the bathroom anyway: empty. no longer concerned with being quiet, you ponder minho’s whereabouts as you traipse around the apartment, checking each room, just in case: all empty.

“minho?” you call into the empty apartment. “hey, lee minho?!”

no one answers. you’re pretty sure he said he would be here. why would you have gone there if he weren’t going to be? you’ve had too much to drink to be solving puzzles at three a.m..

you go back to where you dropped your bag on the floor by your shoes and fumble for your phone. you squint through one eye at your messages; he definitely said to come over to his place. you’re sure... you're pretty sure, but the letters in front of you won’t stop swimming. you tap out a message to him.

‘whete are yoh????//’

send.

of course, he sleeps like a stone, so he probably won’t get it until the morning anyway.

you flop onto the sofa and put your phone on the coffee table. you’ll just rest for a moment while you wait for him to reply. after all, he did say you could come over, so it’s fine for you to be there. it’s certainly not fine for him not to be, though; what is he playing at? it’s so cold outside and you were so looking forward to crawling into bed next to him and passing straight out in a drunken stupor.

despite the fact that hangovers are entirely self-inflicted, minho has such a warm and gentle soul that he always takes excellent care of you the morning after. his bashful tenderness melts you like ice in a hot drink and you wish he wouldn’t try to hide it away so much. you whine to yourself on the sofa, missing him, contemplating throwing a tantrum. you pick up your phone to message him again.

'come hime pelase!!!!! xxxxxxxxxxxxx'

lots of kisses, never enough kisses. you throw your phone back on the table and pass out, the waves you feel like you're rolling on rocking you to sleep.

in the morning, you’re brought back to the edges of your consciousness by the same bleeping that you had cursed some hours earlier. it’s not until you hear minho’s voice calling you that you crack open an eye.

“y/n,” he says, standing at the end of the sofa with an iced coffee in hand. “what are you doing here? why are you sleeping on the sofa?”

you groan and raise your head, looking around. you’ve felt better. you tip yourself into a sitting position and try to rub the sleep from your eyes, forgetting, too late, that you were still wearing your make-up. black mascara is smudged all over your hands and, you assume, all around your eyes. you squint up at minho in confusion.

“where were you?” you croak.

“what do you mean where was i? where were you? you didn’t come home.”

“what do you mean? i’m here! i’m in your home.” you are not sure you have the strength to deal with this right now.

“exactly. you’re not supposed to be in my home; we agreed to sleep at yours last night.”

this is not how you remembered it. you grab your phone from the coffee table, hoping for vindication. it’s dead. naturally.

“look.” minho sighs and sits down next to you on the sofa. he hands you his coffee as he opens his phone to your conversation. you take a sip and realize how thirsty you are. you continue drinking as he shows you your messages from the night before.

‘i will probably be working late again, but i can come over afterwards so we can wake up together!’ minho’s initial message reads.

‘no good,’ your reply. ‘i’m out with friends from work so i’ll probably get in even later than you do.’

‘that’s ok. i can come anyway and just sleep while i wait for you.’

your drunken messages follow; there were more of them than you remember and you cringe. oh dear, maybe, maybe you hadn’t quite understood the plan.

“i thought i was supposed to come here,” you tell him, weakly.

“clearly, but why are you sleeping on the sofa?” fortunately, he seems to be amused rather than annoyed.

“oh, i didn’t mean to fall asleep – i was just waiting for you to text back.”

“to text back from my sleep?”

“… shut up.”

you lean against him, trying to bury yourself in his hoodie, groaning.

“i was worried, you know, when i woke up and you still hadn’t come home. then i couldn’t get through to your phone. i thought something might have happened to you.” minho speaks softly, without reproach but you feel reproached nonetheless.

“i’m sorry,” you reply from underneath his jumper. “i’m just too stupid to date, i understand. you can break up with me; it’s fiiiine.”

you’re joking, of course, being dramatic as you love to be, but the guilt is real. next time, you think to yourself, you should learn to read. or learn not to have too much to drin- no, let’s be honest, that won’t happen.

he laughs.

“obviously, i’m not going to do that. but it has got me thinking. there is a way we could avoid this happening in the future.”

you emerge from minho’s hoodie and face him, pouting pathetically. if this is a riddle, the troll under the bridge is about to have you for dinner. and if this is minho about to suggest that you do something sensible like turn the location on on your phone or take a portable charger around with you, well, you think he should know you and your chaos a little better than that.

“you’re going to have to tell me what that is; i’m clearly not sufficiently capable of thought this morning.”

“we should move in together,” he states simply.

what?

“i’m sorry, what?”

you’re incredulous and you’ve just remembered what a state you look. there’s no way he said that. yeah, you’re in love and happy together and everything’s going brilliantly, but has he seen your hair this morning? does he really want to sign up to deal with that every day?

“we should move in together,” he repeats, smiling hopefully.

“no, sorry, one more time.”

he groans and takes you by the shoulders.

“we should move in together!”

you heard him the first time, but you feel like you need it repeating still; you have to be sure that’s really what he's asking. it's overwhelming, frankly. going to sleep and waking up with minho every single day? heavenly. cooking together, eating together, watching tv, playing with his cats- oh you have not the fortitude for this kind of happiness right now!

“i just knew you couldn’t get enough of this,” you tell him, gesturing to your whole body.

“you’re right; you’re absolutely irresistible right now, but also, have you thought about having a shower?”

“how very dare you?”

you stand and strike a pose, gesturing broadly to your whole body with a flourish, but you have to admit he has a point. you lean down and give him a parting kiss on the way to the bathroom.

“have you also thought about brushing your teeth?!” he calls after you.

“shut up!!!!!”

synopsis. it's the middle of the night and yunho stumbles (yet again) through your window, wounded, sheepish, irresistibly adorable.

[ (ateez) jeong yunho x female reader ] spiderman!yunho, fluff, best friends to possible lovers | warning/s: minor injuries, blood, language, shameless flirting, spideryunho

you don’t look up when you hear the thud.

it’s followed by a sharp metallic creak on the fire escape and a muffled ow, which means jeong yunho has once again flung himself into your life — bruised, dramatic, and ten seconds from bleeding out on your floor like it’s part of his nightly routine.

you flip a page in your book.

“i’m dying,” comes his voice through the window screen. he sounds like a victorian ghost. it’s kind of impressive.

“you said that last week,” you call back, still not looking.

“this time it’s for real,” he groans. “i think i got shot. or stabbed. possibly both.”

you sigh and slide open the window. yunho slumps through it with the grace of a wounded cat, mask pushed up, suit half-ripped, curls wild, and an actual trail of blood following him like glitter.

“my carpet,” you say flatly.

“hi to you too.” he grins, teeth and all. there’s a cut on his lip. he looks like trouble. he always looks like trouble. and god does it make you feel something.

“let me guess,” you say, grabbing the first-aid kit. “drug bust gone wrong? gang of mutant pigeons? you finally picked a fight with someone taller than you?”

“bold of you to assume anyone is taller than me when i’m upside down,” he mutters, flopping onto your bed without asking.

you ignore the chaos, kneel next to him, and dab at the gash on his temple.

“stop moving. i don’t want your blood on my comforter. it’s expensive.”

“i’m expensive,” he mumbles. “limited edition. real collector’s item.”

“more like ‘slightly used with minor damage.’”

he laughs — a warm, boyish sound that makes your hand freeze for half a second. you pretend it didn’t happen.

“you know,” yunho says, eyes flicking up to yours, “most people would be flattered spider-man keeps showing up at their window.”

“you’re not spider-man,” you say. “you’re yunho in spandex who can’t stay upright for more than fifteen minutes.”

“i got pushed, thank you very much.”

you snort. “by what? a toddler?”

“i’ll have you know she was twelve and vicious.”

you press a bandage to his forehead a little harder than necessary.

he hisses. “ow. i’m telling your mom you abuse superheroes.”

“she already thinks you’re my boyfriend.”

yunho blinks. “wait, what?”

you shrug. “you come over injured. you sleep here sometimes. you call me at 2 a.m. like we’re in a situationship.”

“that’s slander,” he says, looking far too smug for someone who might be concussed. “i only call you after midnight if I’m emotionally stable.”

“that has never happened.”

“okay, true.”

you roll your eyes, dropping the bloody gauze in the trash. “why do you even come here? don’t you have, like, a nurse sidekick or a secret spider cave or something?”

“i have all that,” he says, hand flapping mid-hair like he's all that. “but none of them smell like your vanilla shampoo.”

you blink. “you are literally injured and flirting with me.”

“multitasking. i’m gifted.”

“you’re gonna bleed out.”

“then kiss me before i go.”

you stare at him.

he stares back, shameless, like this is normal behavior. like he didn’t just crawl through your window half-dead and immediately start being a menace.

god, he’s cute. unfortunately.

“not tonight, web boy.”

“so you’re saying there will be a night?”

you pause. blink. your brain reboots.

“no. nope. totally not what i said.” but your speech is a little too fast. it’s giving it away, and yunho saw it a million miles back.

“you paused. that was a pause.”

you shove the ice pack into his hand. “shut up and hold this.”

he grins and does what he’s told.

you lean back against your desk chair, arms crossed, trying not to look at the way his jaw flexes or how his shirt is riding up slightly, revealing the tiniest sliver of abs. you’re not looking. you’re definitely not looking.

“thanks for patching me up,” he says after a beat.

you glance at him. he’s watching you again — but this time it’s not loud or teasing. just kind of soft. the kind of soft that makes your stomach do something it shouldn’t.

you flick your eyes away.

“yeah, well. don’t die. i’d have to clean up your body and that sounds annoying.”

he smiles like that was the most romantic thing he’s ever heard.

he ends up staying.

which, of course, he always does.

you sit cross-legged on the floor beside your bed, sipping from a lukewarm energy drink and pretending not to care that jeong yunho is currently stretched across your pillows like he pays rent here. he doesn’t. but you’re pretty sure he has a toothbrush in your bathroom.

he’s in his undersuit now — black and sleeveless and clinging in ways you absolutely do not think about. his arm’s bandaged, his curls are still damp from the wet cloth you made him use, and there’s a tiny smudge of blood drying at the corner of his mouth. he looks like a mess.

an unfairly hot mess.

“so,” you say, gaze fixed on a chipped spot of polish on your thumb nail, “what happened out there?”

yunho lets out a breath and stares up at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “some idiot tried to rob a tech truck three blocks from oscorp. had, like, actual alien weapons. not even subtle.”

your eyes flick to him despite yourself. “alien-alien or just suspiciously shiny?”

“alien-alien. chitauri plasma rifles. the one with the glowy blue veins? you know the type.”

you hum, casually. as if you don’t know. as if you haven’t watched every avengers briefing leaked online.

“they really let just anyone steal those now, huh?”

“apparently,” he mutters. “anyway, i swing in — like, mid-getaway — and try to web the tires. but these guys had shields. and a drone. a full drone, y/n. like, stark-level ai.”

“that explains the new hole in your suit.”

he groans. “do not remind me. this one was limited edition.”

you rest your chin on your knees, quietly watching him. he talks with his hands a lot when he gets going, all excited energy and half-formed gestures. it’s like he forgets how tired he is. or how much he’s bleeding. or that it’s 2:37 in the morning and you’re literally just some girl he keeps crashing into.

still. you could listen to him forever.

“you should call for help more,” you mutter. “you’re not invincible.”

he glances at you. and for a moment, something flickers behind his eyes. he grins lazily. “you worried about me or something?”

“i just don’t want alien blood staining my sheets,” you shoot back. “we both have standards.”

before he can respond with something equally stupid and flirty, his watch makes a sharp beep. he groans again — louder, more dramatic.

“ugh, nooo. not now.”

“what is it?”

he presses the face of the watch and a pixelated message glows to life:

DISTRESS CALL AVENGERS TOWER — LEVEL 4 SECURITY THREAT

your breath hitches. “avengers?”

“yeah. i, uh... i help out sometimes.”

you blink up at him. “you never said you worked with them.”

yunho shrugs like it’s no big deal. like tony stark didn’t probably give him that suit. “it’s casual. i swing by. save a cat. fight a god. eat snacks.”

you scoff, but your stomach flips a little. he’s joking — but not really. he’s one of them. you’ve always known he was more than the “neighborhood” part of spider-man, but still. hearing it out loud makes something sharp and weird twist behind your ribs.

yunho slides off your bed and stands, tugging his top layer back on. his movements are quick now, practiced, but he’s still limping slightly.

you stay seated on the floor, staring up at him. you don’t say it, but your jaw tenses.

he glances at you, then smiles — that annoying, infuriatingly charming smile that makes your heart stutter when you’re not careful.

“hey,” he says lightly. “don’t i even get a good luck kiss?”

you blink.

“excuse me?”

he leans down a little, eyes glinting. “what if i don’t make it back? this could be our last moment. don’t you want to make it cinematic?”

you raise an eyebrow. “you’re gonna guilt-trip me into kissing you before fighting an alien or whatever?”

he pouts. “you’re literally my emotional support girl. this is part of the job.”

“then you should’ve unionized.”

he laughs. full-on, head-thrown-back giggle. and it does something catastrophic to your insides.

you roll your eyes and stand, slowly. “fine.”

“wait, really?”

“yeah. close your eyes.”

yunho lights up, immediately obedient.

you lean in close.

...and flick his forehead.

“ow!” he yelps, stumbling back. “rude!”

you smirk. “that’s for bleeding on my floor.”

he presses a hand to his chest like he’s wounded. “cold. so cold.”

you cross your arms and shrug, even as your heart thrums traitorously. “now go save the world or whatever. i’ve got a chem test tomorrow.”

yunho backs toward the window, already lifting his mask into place. his hair is wild again, his eyes bright with adrenaline.

but before he climbs out, he pauses — just long enough to glance back at you, one hand resting on the sill.

“you know,” he says, voice muffled through the fabric, “i’m gonna get that kiss one day.”

you roll your eyes. “you keep saying that.”

“and you keep letting me in.”

with that, he winks — actually winks — and dives out the window like gravity is just a suggestion.

you stand there for a second too long.

[ OT8 ]. TYPE OF SUB THEY ARE.

sub!skz x dom!reader

[ (stray kids) ] 18+/nsfw | requested | warning/s: smut, sub/dom

방찬 —「 bang chan. 」

⤷ service sub. pleasuring his you is his top priority, but you might feel almost overwhelmed. blindfolding or restraining him is a great way to keep all of his intensity under control - and luckily, he happens to love the feeling of being physically incapable of seeing you and touching you. sex is never all about him, not even when you decide to reward him without asking for anything in return - he always manages to put your pleasure first, no matter what. same thing goes for aftercare: you’d think you’d be the one running a bath for him, considering how exhausted he must be, but no, he’s already up and running a bath for you before you can even think about stopping him. he’s eager and devoted, the only thing he cares about is making you feel good, no matter how.

리노 —「 lee know. 」

⤷ more of a playful, ‘i’m-submitting-but-not-really’ kind of sub. he doesn’t really care about roles that much, but he’s kind of sensitive, so he might throw a tantrum from time to time for any reason, especially if things don’t go the way he planned. loves being restricted, but he never says it out loud. it takes him a while, but he eventually ends up loving pegging, especially when you choose the classic missionary position - that way, he gets to cling to you like his life depended on him… careful, he might scratch you.

창빈 —「 changbin. 」

⤷ needy sub. he craves your attention 24/7, and he likes to know you need him just as much as he needs you. he’s at your disposal, ready to obey your every order, willing to do anything to please you. obsessed with your tits and begs you to sit on his face. he whimpers and moans when you call them yours and he asks permission before touching you. restraints are not his favorite thing either, he loves touching you too much to deal with them. doesn’t mind an occasional spanking and likes to challenge you sometimes, to put up a fight just to see how quickly he can piss you off - it always leaves him with a sore ass, and he can’t help but loving it.

현진 —「 hyunjin. 」

⤷ he makes you wonder if he’s really submitting to you or if he’s just playing along for your sake. subspace is something he rarely experiences but, when he does, it’s absolutely delightful for the both of you. he’s up for anything, as long as you manage to keep a light atmosphere, but don’t expect him to be into the more hardcore stuff - anything that makes him feel too submissive is a big no for him. might enjoy being restricted from time to time, especially during an edging session - be careful, though, he’s not that good at resisting his urge to cum.

한 —「 han. 」

⤷ craves your touch more than anything, - kissing him, biting him, marking him - and pouts when you decide not to touch him. desperately wants to be praised and makes no secret of that. he often asks things like “am i a good boy?”, “did it feel good?”, “did i do well?” just because he wants you to tell him that yes, he’s a good boy, it felt good and he did extremely well. that’s when he flashes you one of those smiles that make your heart skip a bit. he’s not a huge fan of punishments, he hates them. the only ones he can put up with are edging and overstimulation, because they’re not too rough. anything else is probably going to make him cry. blushes like crazy whenever you compliment him, especially if it’s out of the blue, but boy, does he love that.

필릭스 —「 felix. 」

⤷ very obedient, the only purpose he has is to make you happy, no matter what. always on his best behavior, he tries really hard to do exactly what you want him to do, to behave according to your requests. secretly wants to be spoiled in the most romantic way (and trust me, he deserves it), to be held and cuddled, to hear loving words coming from your lips (throw a bit of body worship in there and you’ll make him the happiest man ever), reason why aftercare is so important to him. needs you to tell him how much you love and adore him, to show him that you really care, to be complimented for how good he’s been for you and i’m stopping here because i’m getting emotional.

승민 —「 seungmin. 」

⤷ a brat. good luck dealing with him. he’s dangerously close to being a power bottom, but not quite there yet. after all, he likes not being in control (physically, by being tied up; mentally, by having someone constantly remind him where he belongs). he might be a challenge for the softer/less experienced doms, because he definitely knows how to get his way - which might be fine in the beginning, but it soon starts to bother him. again, he needs to be shown that he’s not in charge, not even if it looks like he is. the whole dom/sub thing, to him, is nothing but a mind game that he loves losing. craves a partner who’s capable of putting him back in his place when he tries to fight for dominance, which happens quite often.

아이엔 —「 i.n. 」

why not try your ragebait tactics on your boyfriend…

[ (ateez) ] | bf!ateez, fake texts, fluff/crack | warning/s: attempted humor </3, (slightly suggestive in wy’s if you squint)

[ OT8 ] THEM AS SUBS.

more sub!ateez x dom!reader

[ (ateez) ] 18+/nsfw | requested | warning/s: smut, sub/dom

홍중 — 「 hongjoong. 」

⤷ he is in charge of a lot of aspects in his life, so when it comes to roles in the bedroom, he settles into his submissive role and allows you to do whatever you’ve been wanting to do to him. loves to be restrained. whether it be with rope, silk, or handcuffs; he doesn’t care. it gives his ability to try and control things himself and gives it to you, even when he’s tempted to grab your hips and bring up the pace, he can’t. sometimes he gets a little too excited with you stroking or sucking him off and bucks his hips for more, so you either have to hold his hips in place or threaten to tie him down further— which he’s not opposed to.

성화 — 「 seonghwa. 」

⤷ power sub. he's really good at pretending to be in control, but one bold move on your part and he's a whimpering mess. though, this doesn't stop him, because he simply won't shut up. continuously challenging you with his smart ass replies, you really just need to shove your fingers in his mouth to keep him quiet. ride him until all he can do is drool around your fingers and mumble, 'my pretty boy' over and over again. loves when it gets messy, so make sure there's a change of sheets somewhere near.

윤호 — 「 yunho. 」

⤷ i think he’d probably be a service sub. he’s into whatever works out for you!!! it really just depends on his mood because he kinda seems like he’d be a total baby boy, too. he’d lowkey (not that he would ever admit it) like being teased in public and he loves being degraded and praised at the same time. like it’d just make him blush so much. dirty talk is his biggest weakness! he’d be so easily flustered by it lmao.

여상 — 「 yeosang. 」

⤷ very much a pillow prince. he lets you do whatever you want to him and rarely ever gets bratty. he may not be the most outspoken but he doesn't disappoint when you force it out of him. whether that's through making him look at a mirror when you hold him by the neck or teasing him just right! he can't help but fold when you look at him so intently. looking up through eyes heavy with pleasure just to see you over him is heavenly.

산 — 「 san. 」

⤷ he’s just a very bad sub. like he doesn’t know how to control himself. he acts very needy and loud. you need to really satisfy him or he’ll start to whine. but would also be shocked when he gets punished? keeps begging over and over and over, complains a lot when you don’t give him what he wants. like what did he think was gonna happen? he doesn’t know, but not this. also cums quickly but has a lot of stamina so he can go for many rounds.

민기 — 「 mingi. 」

⤷ very pathetic sub. he basically oozes obedience and praise kink vibes! cannot shut up about how good you feel, he calls you mommy, i just know he does, just nonstop rambling about how beautiful you are. and moans in pure approval when you praise him. he’d ask for permission before touching you and wants nothing more than to die between your thighs. really just wants you to dominate him, but in the sweetest, most loving way possible.

우영 — 「 wooyoung. 」

⤷ so difficult as a sub as he listens to nothing you say. laughs when you try and tell him what to do. laughs even more when you actually punish him. he literally gets so much enjoyment out of being scolded it’s ridiculous. he’s the biggest brat, it’s honestly like he has a check list of stuff he isn’t supposed to do and goes through it every day because he loves punishments but that’s beside the point. anyway, tease him in public because he absolutely loves it.

종호 — 「 jongho. 」

first snow with minho.

[ (stray kids) lee minho x reader ] | fluff, best friends to lovers, first snow, hot chocolate | warning/s: none

“ugh, what i wouldn’t give to do this with a guy.”

you sighed softly right before you brought your hot cup of chocolate to your lips, sipping it carefully. flakes of cold wetness met your cheek, landed softly and continuously. you blinked up at the sky and watched- watched as specks of white seemed to drift so freely to surround your huddled bodies before sinking to the earth.

you looked at minho from the corner of your eye. his dark eyes narrowed at your words, snowflakes landing in his hair and for brief seconds appear in all their majestic glory.

at least you had a friend to share this moment with.

“i mean,” he spoke, his voice low, “i’m a guy.”

you laughed, nudging his shoulder, careful not to make him drop his hot chocolate. “i know. i just meant…” a beat of silence, filled only by the hush of falling snow, “do you ever think of dating someone?”

minho looks at you, his expression light-hearted and teasing, “why? are you getting tired of me?”

“yeah, actually. a little bit.” you joked, him playfully rolling his eyes. “i just think it’d be nice to have someone you can go on dates with, to hold hands and see the first snow, and do all those cute things together,”

he nodded, seemingly understanding, and you smiled while swirling the contents of your drink before taking another sip. snow always brought back a little bit of childlike wonder back into your life, so you always made sure to stop and appreciate it when it did appear. and minho would always be right there to see it with you.

“still applies.” minho continued to stare at you with his usual nonchalance.

frigid winds kissed the tops of your ears, your breath puffed out in visible clouds. your eyes immediately fled from his to the snow-dusted ground at your feet, searching for the answers to the sudden questions flurrying around in your head.

“and to answer your question… yes. i guess i do think of dating someone.” he added, eyeing you with a softer look, “it’s you.”

you freeze in your thoughts and manage to bring yourself to meet his gaze again, now searching for any sign that he’s joking but the sincerity in his eyes makes your heart beat faster than it already is. “oh.”

“oh?” minho repeated. you blinked for a second, taking in his casual demeanor. the moment feels long until he breaks the eye contact and look at the sky again, dragging out a sigh, “and here i thought we were sharing first snow confessions.”

you’re chilled to silence. it wasn’t like minho was wrong. he is a guy. he was right there. the question was no longer if but what were you going to do about it?

the snow had started to come down heavier, the flakes turned into fat, wet clumps. you looked back up to the sky, watching them fall in silence. then, a warmth envelopes your hand. minho’s fingers laced with yours, firm and sure.

“i’ll take you home, first. don’t want you catching a cold.” he says softly, pulling you along the snow-covered path, under silver and gold twinkling lights. you smile warmly at his hand holding yours, not daring to let go.

flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals—it didn’t matter; it all had a place in your heart during winter. but minho’s place was cherished all year round.

“minho,” you started, just as you reached his car.

he sighed again, “don’t say anything. i get it. i must be too good for you,” he says with a serious face, but his tone is teasing and playful.

you giggled and rolled your eyes, freeing your hand to take both cups of hot chocolate and place them on the hood of his car.

on the surface, he looked a little annoyed, but the softest of smiles blossomed across his lips. from this close, you could see his cheeks turning pink in the cold. smiling back, you cupped his face in both your hands.

“what i would give to do this with you, always.” your thumbs ghost across his cheekbones.

your lips finally found his and immediately, he kissed you back. it was slow and his lips were ever so slightly chapped and tasted like the mint from his chocolate drink. it felt like you were closing a gap you never knew was there, completing a part of your friendship that had been waiting all along.

pranking jisung that bbama got fat.

[ (stray kids) han jisung x reader ] | fake text, prank, humor, smau | warning/s: none

pranking hyunjin that kkami got fat.

[ (stray kids) hwang hyunjin x reader ] | fake text, prank, humor | warning/s: none

YOU OVERFED DORI.

pranking minho that dori got fat.

[ (stray kids) lee minho x reader ] | bf!minho, fake text, prank | warning/s: none