Line A

line a

when did you start to have feelings for the cute stranger on your morning commute and how are you going to be able to tell him?

⇀ pairing yunho x reader

⇀ genre fluff, angst, strangers 2 lovers

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 4k

⇀ warnings food, yunho cries

⇀ reactions from the gc “Okay but why do I have tears in my eyes” “I feel all warm and toasty inside” “I had a lovely time”

note sorry if you hate brown sugar oatmilk lattes, cinnamon sugar bagels, pastries in general, or sushi

getting a new position in your company meant better pay, a new office, and different work hours. you were happy for the shift in your routine, feeling like you were starting to become a part of some machine, but you were honestly happier for the shift in your commute time.

your old hours always had you riding the train at the busiest times, shoved into a car with a collection of other desk workers like a bunch of sardines, and over the years you’d grown used to not being able to find a seat or even have any form of personal space. you’d always accepted it as a necessary evil that just accompanied getting to work at a prestigious corporation in the city but now, climbing into a train car that was next to empty, you were regretting ever settling for less.

you’d quickly grown into a routine with these new hours, grabbing an iced brown sugar oatmilk latte from the cafe on the corner of the station entrance before your train, spending the 30-ish minute ride sipping and reading a few pages from the book you’d purchased most recently, and then using the extra time before work started to grab a cinnamon sugar bagel from the bakery a block away from the company, unless the pastry of the day was particularly appealing in which case you’d grab two of those.

of the people who took the train at the same time as you, there were always a few regulars mixed in with the random passengers. the old lady, you’d lovingly nicknamed mrs. blue, was an every day passenger. she’d already be on the train when you would board, sat in the farthest corner of the car, with a collection of different knit items on her lap, some incomplete and often actively being worked on during the ride. she wore a different blue shirt every day, and although you were months into this new routine she hadn’t repeated any yet. she would get off exactly three stops before you, taking her time to gather her knits as the doors opened and although you worried that one day the doors would close before she made it onto the platform she hadn’t missed her stop yet.

probably the most recent regular you noticed was someone you’d called the flash to your roommate and the name just stuck. he would board one stop after yours, always arriving at the platform at the same time as the train. he’d take about a minute to look at all the free seats on the train but after what seemed like a heavy debate with himself, one where he would gesture subtly with his hands and mutter quietly under his breath, he would take the same seat he’d taken yesterday, and the day before, and every day as long as you’d been riding this line. he would get off a stop before your own and just as with his arrival, his form would disappear from the platform in tandem with the train’s departure.

of course the most interesting of all the passengers, and the first regular you’d noticed, was a man that both boarded and exited the train at the same stops as you. he was tall, you’d estimate around six feet, and although he’d seemed intimidating as you’d stood on the departure platform for the first time since your change in work hours, he sent you a smile that simply melted away all of your worries when he’d caught your eyes flickering toward him cautiously.

he was always waiting at the platform before you, no matter how early you were to the station, and he always wore one wireless earbud. if it was in the right ear he was obviously on a call, talking and laughing with someone he’d called mingi. if it was in the left ear he was silent and you assumed he was just listening to something, likely music or an audiobook. however, no matter which ear was occupied he would always greet you with a warm smile and a slight nod when you would saddle up next to him on the platform.

you’d tried to parse his reasons for taking the train so often and so regularly but it was next to impossible to be sure when he was always dressed so casually and never carried the same items. some days he’d be weighed down by a backpack that looked like it was holding several concrete bricks while other days he’d have nothing but his phone in his hand. every few days he’d have a different bag of takeout food, though the only repeat container was from a thai place you’d googled one day after noticing him carrying a bag with the same logo for the fourth time.

when you both would leave the train after arriving at your stop, you would cross paths, each of you having exited the door of the car opposite to the direction you would head to leave the platform. at first he would just give you another smile and nod but about a month into this routine he’d escalated to telling you to “have a good day” to which you’d return a quick “you too”.

the train on the way home from work held a different set of regulars, a slightly younger and more rowdy collection, but after a couple months into this new pattern you would find your mind wandering away from the words on the page in front of you to the man from your morning ride.

he was certainly attractive, a sharp jaw that complimented sculpted cheeks, a nose that perfectly defined his side profile, and eyes that would crinkle up whenever he would laugh or smile. speaking of his laugh, you’d noticed he had a habit of tilting his head back when he would find something particularly amusing, a tendency that had caused him to bump his head against the wall of the train car behind him several times. each time this accident had occurred, you would dip your own head, lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress the enamored giggles that would bubble into your throat. after you managed to calm yourself, you’d take a peek in the man’s direction to find a light blush dusted over the apples of his cheeks and along the tops of his ears, eyes flicking toward you before his ears would transition to an even darker shade of red and he would hide his own shy giggles behind his hand, his gaze shifting to the train floor.

your routine became familiar after a few months, comfortable even. it gave you a sense of security, knowing that he’ll always be there.

of course that means that the one day you arrive at the station and he’s not stood in his usual spot on the platform you can almost feel the universe poking a hole through your bubble. it lets in a little bit of something that anyone else might recognize as disappointment, but to you it feels heavier. it’s painted with a hint of worry, and you itch to check the time on your phone every few seconds just to triple and quadruple check that you’re not running behind. you try to ignore the way his absence has thrown you off but as you take a sip of your latte it almost feels like even your drink tastes different.

you board the train when it arrives as you would every other time but even mrs. blue seems to notice the lack of your usual companion, pausing a moment in the middle of a stitch with yarn tangled between her fingers, before she returns to her own routine. similarly, the flash takes twice as long to choose his usual seat, eyes lingering on where the man would usually have been sitting before he moves about his day as normal.

your book seems even less interesting today, the story dragging on as the author tries to build suspense that you just can’t seem to bring yourself to focus on. instead, you wonder if he’s okay, you hope he is, dwelling on all of the possible reasons he could have missed the train, because that’s what you assume he did. he must have missed it, his alarm this morning not waking him or construction making him change his usual path to the station. of all the possibilities for his absence, you in no way consider the reality that approaches as you hop off at your usual stop.

he makes his way through the door he would normally exit, boarding the car instead, with a woman following close on his heels. their hands are connected, fingers intertwined, as he pulls her toward his usual seat on the train and he wears the same light blush as when he’d hit his head on the wall. he looks happy and you want to breathe a sigh of relief that he’s okay, but your body refuses to relax at the sight, your stomach turning and heart clenching as you see her beam up at him.

neither of them take any notice of you, too enraptured in the little bubble surrounding them as you make your way toward the rest of your day. something in the back of your mind tells you that you’re not going to have a very good one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your day isn’t too extraordinary, the usual tasks and duties taking up your work time, but every so often your mind will drift, as it usually does, to your train companion. unfortunately, instead of the standard admirations of the way he’d worn his hair that day or the opinions on the conversation that you’d parsed from hearing just his half of the phone call, your thoughts seem to be stuck on the way her hand had been firmly captured in his own and the way his eyes had lit up when the woman on his arm had laughed.

as the weeks go on, and his appearances on the train become more infrequent and completely changed by the girl that seems to be his world, you start to consider that this may be your new normal. maybe a regular has shifted into the crowd.

you feel something inside yourself shift in response to this new situation and you try not to harp on it. however, how are you supposed to reconcile something that you weren’t even aware had been happening. when had the boy stood on the platform turned into a crush?

it felt childish to admit, falling for a relative stranger, but it felt even more foolish to realize that she must have been his reason for all those months. that girl was why he took the train, why he was always punctual and bright. maybe you’d purposely ignored the signs, the occasional bouquet and the mention of a jiyoung when on a call, or maybe you’d been too caught up in your own interest, in your own feelings, to realize that he was only a stranger. you didn’t even know his name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re not even sure how long it had been since you’d seen him on the platform as you approached, your latte in your hand and steps stuttering as you realized that he was there. he looked nice today, more dressed up than you think you'd ever seen him. black tie neat and blazer crisp as he shifted from foot to foot almost nervously. it was hard not to notice the bouquet in his arms, a collection of several different pink flowers wrapped neatly in brown paper, and the container of food from that thai place. you could reason to guess that it was likely her favorite, the portions he’d carried had always been suspiciously small for someone of his stature but you’d never seen a need to analyze that before.

aside from the new surprise that just is seeing him on this platform and taking this train, you’re shocked to find that you can’t see an earbud in his left ear but he also doesn’t appear to be in conversation with anyone. he’s not on the phone, he’s not even reaching into his pocket for his headphones, he’s staring straight ahead at the empty tracks, almost willing the train to arrive faster.

as you approach your usual spot on the platform his eyes flick over to you, sensing movement in his peripheral. you try not to make eye contact, pulling your phone out of your pocket to appear busy.

“hi.”

of all the greetings you’ve ever shared, verbal communication was new. you weren’t anticipating any sort of recognition, as you’d stood further away from him purposely, partly in an effort to avoid any sort of interaction with him.

you didn’t respond aloud, your gaze briefly locking with his as you nod slightly before looking back to the screen of your phone.

he doesn’t seem deterred by your lack of proper response, though, as he takes a step in your direction.

“do you think this is too cheesy?”

his voice is much higher than you’ve heard it previously, when he’s talking with mingi or sending you off to have a good day, and you can hear a nervous shake in the tone.

you venture to glance back up at him, the bouquet in his hands now turned out to you so that you can see the writing on the wrapping paper.

will you be my girlfriend?

the lump that forms in your throat is involuntary and you try to swallow it away as you blink at him.

“it’s cute,” you manage after a moment, trying to avoid further discussion as you quickly return to your phone. maybe you could fish out your own headphones from the depths of your bag.

“i got her favorite too,” he explains with a lift of the takeout container, completely oblivious to the hint that you aren’t in the mood to converse. “i never really liked thai but i don’t mind.”

you bite your tongue to keep from saying anything, urging your brain to ignore the curiosity of what he would prefer instead.

you’re sure that you’ve never been more thankful for the punctuality of the train as it comes quickly into view in the next moment, screeching to a stop in front of you both and cutting off the conversation.

you notice that he makes his way to his usual spot, mrs. blue peeking at him from the corner of her eye before she returns to her latest project.

instead of your usual place, one that wasn’t directly across from him but still too close for whatever your heart was doing right now, you decide to take a different spot, one where you can convincingly be enraptured in the pages of your book while your mind takes in none of the words, too focused on the latest development with your train companion.

you try to think about anything other than the boy with the bouquet but it feels like the length of the ride that you’ve taken for months has suddenly doubled. you’re not sure the doors have ever stayed open this long at each stop, yet each platform is more unusually barren than the last, leaving the car with just the usuals occupying their spots.

at your stop, only you and him are left and you realize that in sitting further away from him you’d managed to sit closer to the door that he would normally exit, both of you almost colliding as you try to fit through the doorway and step out onto the platform.

“have a good day,” he says, and it’s not only different because it’s the first time you’d heard the phrase from him in so long but because his voice is still high and still shaky.

you take a shallow breath, trying to calm the prickling sensation that washes over your skin, and you reply, “good luck.”

you don’t stay to see his reaction, dipping your head and feet leading you in your usual direction. you don’t even realize you were practically jogging until you make it to the bakery almost 10 minutes before you normally would.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

half of your day is spent wondering how it all went for him, your regular duties not nearly as interesting as the turmoil in your heart.

your brain tells you that she obviously said yes, simply based on the brief moments you’d seen of them together, and your heart reasons that you want her to say yes, the smile that she’d put on his face when they were together absolutely mesmerizing, but somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you wish for her to say no. you try to suppress the thought, reasoning that it wouldn’t mean you suddenly had a chance, but the jealousy only continued to fester until you realize that you’d been typing out your internal argument instead of the report you were tasked to start.

you tussle with your feelings for the rest of the day, even as you pack up and make your way to the station in order to head back home for the night. you’re almost too caught up in your head to notice a familiar bouquet in the hands of an even more familiar stranger sat on the bench just off the platform.

you pause when you first notice him, his gaze set firmly on the slightly wilted flowers, eyebrows furrowed in what appears to be a mix of thought and anger, and you try to decide what to do. you could simply walk past and pretend that you hadn’t noticed him, but as you consider that a guilt starts to replace the jealous feeling that had started to manifest earlier in the day. a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re responsible, you’d secretly wished for his rejection hadn’t you, but you quiet that voice as you take a deep breath and approach him.

“hi,” you chirp once you’re at the end of the bench and you realize that you don’t know what else to say. you didn’t have any kind of plan.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and a little pathetic to complement the subtle downturn of his lips. you try not to react when he notices it’s you and his expression lifts slightly before dropping back down.

“hi,” he practically whispers, the word heavy and soft as it leaves his lips.

“this seat taken?” you resist the urge to drop your face into your palm as your mouth moves before you can stop it but if he finds the phrase at all awkward he doesn’t comment, only gesturing to the empty space with his hand as a sort of invitation.

you move onto the bench, angling your body to face him and you can’t tell if you imagine him shift to match you or if he’d always been sat on an angle as his gaze moves back to the flowers.

“she said no,” he supplies with a shake of the bouquet and a few petals fall out, one landing in his lap while the rest float to the ground.

you bite your lip as your hand reaches out reflexively but you quickly pull it back in before you can pick the petal from his thigh.

“did she say why?” you ignore the thought that you may be prying, telling yourself that he’d offered the information first.

he lets out a single humorless chuckle as his eyes close. when he opens them he looks up at you once more, gaze and voice noticeably watery as he replies, “she never wanted something serious. she thought it was just always going to be casual.”

a tear makes its way past his waterline and he’s quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand before he drops his gaze to his lap, noticing the petal there and brushing it off.

you try to think of anything else to do aside from just sitting here and watching him cry when you realize that he no longer has the bag of takeout and are reminded of the question you wanted to ask him earlier in the day.

“what’s your favorite?” you ask, cringing slightly for not being clear when he looks up at you with a confused expression.

“uh, food,” you elaborate and he tilts his head slightly as though he’s never heard the question before.

he takes a moment to think, eyes fluttering around the both of you, before he says, “i guess japanese.”

you nod slowly, pursing your lips as it’s now your turn to think.

“great,” you say after a moment, rising from the bench after you check the time, “because i love sushi.”

he quirks his head at you again, this time his face scrunches up in confusion, as he watches you stand and take the bouquet from his hands. he doesn’t bother to try getting it back as you walk toward the edge of the platform, the train coming into view only a moment later.

when you notice that he hasn’t followed you, you look back at him over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna miss your train,” you call to him and he hesitantly follows as you board.

the car is empty today and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief as you anticipate your plan.

only a few seconds after you’ve taken your seat, your train companion steps into the car, still observing you with confusion, although you see a hint of amusement start to take over his features as you gesture to his usual seat.

he says nothing as he sits down, eyes fixed on you to the point that he almost misses his chair, sliding down into the seat with a soft thump.

“if you keep staring at me you’re going to make this immensely harder for me,” you say loud enough for him to hear as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. you take the edge of the brown wrapping paper into your hand, the material considerably more wrinkled than when you’d seen it earlier that day, and start to tear. luckily the writing is on the outer layer and so you can tear it off without causing the arrangement to change.

you can’t see his face but you can imagine the tilt of his head as you work to remove the phrase from the flowers, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into your bag.

as the train comes to the first stop you peek onto the platform and silently thank the universe for urging those taking the train from this station to climb into the other cars, leaving only you and your stranger sat in the plastic seats of the familiar car.

before the train can start to move again you stand, clearing your throat, and you notice him shift slightly as though preparing to get up before you take a few steps and close the distance between you.

you let out a breath as you take the seat next to him, eyes intently connected with his own, before holding the bouquet in front of him.

“hi, i’m y/n and i’ve seen you on the train before,” you start, his eyes eager and round as though trying to convey that he’s listening. “i think you’re really cute and i’d appreciate the chance to take you to din-“ you cut yourself off as you pull out your phone to check the time and you swear the corners of his lips pull up in amusement. “midnight snack,” you conclude, putting your phone away as you turn back to him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyes just looking into yours as his lips slowly part to reveal a toothy smile.

“preferably japanese,” you add to break the silence, the words barely audible.

without breaking eye contact he takes the bouquet from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own and causing a heat to climb the back of your neck.

“hi,” he starts, placing the bouquet onto the seat on the other side of him, “i’m yunho and i’ve seen you on the train before. i think you’re very cute and i’d be happy to get a midnight snack with you.”

you try to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks but you give up as you notice yunho’s own ears and face growing pink.

“i just have one condition,” he adds and you cock your head in confusion.

“the snack has to be japanese.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note idk why but i just apparently feel the need to romanticize public transit AGAIN

let me know what you thought?

This was awesome I did get confused at the pink cheeks and everything but it was still amazing and very much realistic

I meant you are hongjoongs Bias fic it was very cool

thank you for the compliment and thanks for bringing that to my attention, i just changed that to blush instead. i try to make my stories as inclusive as possible but i do sometimes miss things so anyone please feel free to bring things like this up at anytime so i can change it

glad you enjoyed!

hi wow, thanks for 500, i feel like i hit 400 less than a week ago

can i walk you home?

10. momo and mina’s match making

warnings talk of reader being self conscious, talk of ex-fling, a curse word if you consider hell a curse word

ciwyh masterlist next

taglist @peterparkoure @bangchansbae @chaotickyrith @napalmskiez @john-joong @phtogravi

killin’ me softly

(and sweetly)

(and gently)

jongho x reader

warnings: lotsa kissin lotsa love

a/n: ayo i’m back after like three weeks pls take my lil blurb reader and jongho are whipped and i will not be writing it any other way enjoyyyyy

(also idk if i proofread it misspelling or weird grammar is due to the fact that it is 2 am👍)

————————————————————————

“hey are you busy right now?” 

you say tentatively, quietly opening the door to jonghos hotel room. you spot him sitting at the desk by the window, tapping away on a laptop, sun shining perfectly onto his warm brown eyes. he turns to face you as you shut the door, a smile appearing on his tired face as he beckons you inside.

“oh, i’m so glad your here, i’m never too busy for you, don’t worry.” he says, his smile growing bigger as he spots your cheeks growing pink at his words.

“oh thank goodness, i missed you way too much” 

you say with a sigh as you make your way to his desk. jongho shuts the laptop and you wrap your arms around him while he stays seated, his face pressed into your warm tummy. he groans in contentment, the vibrations tickling you and making you chuckle at his neediness.

“god, love, i needed a hug so bad. the editor got sick? so i had to edit my own vlog? which was fun until i realized my camera had died halfway through, so i had to go back and film some more and then edit that and then the software logged me out and-“ jongho rambled away into your shirt as you stroked the soft hair on his head, humming in agreement in all the right places and gasping at all the things that got in the way of his progress. 

“i’m just pretty tired, yknow? i didn’t have much on my schedule today except editing but then that took way longer than i wanted and now im so tired…” jongho sighs once more, squeezing your waist with his arms, gazing up at you. you look down at him lovingly, admiring his pretty face, moving a stray hair out of his eyes. 

“well, i came to ask you if you wanted to go out for dinner with me, but it seems like you could use a nap instead.” you say with a soft smile, noting how his eyes droop at even the suggestion of extra rest. 

“no, no! we can go out! i can just grab some coffee and then maybe i’ll be okay?” jongho stands up as he talks, but immediately trips over the chair he just got out of, falling once more into your warm embrace, albeit a little clumsily. you chuckle as he wraps you up again, sighing and melting into you once more as he rests his head on top of yours. 

“jjong, i think you definitely deserve a nap. trust me, i wanna go out too, but i cant have you falling asleep in the restaurant.” you whisper into his chest. jongho chuckles at your jab at him, but finally-

“okay, okay, fine, we can stay in” jongho says. there is hesitance in his voice, but you know him well, and you know for certain that  all he needs is a little bit of sleep. but only a little.

———————————————————————

you and jongho had been cuddled up under the covers for what seemed like forever. you hadn’t been able to fall asleep, only dozing every once in a while. you hadn’t been nearly as tired as jongho, who had basically knocked out the minute he had found a comfy spot: right on top of you. he had tucked his face into your neck, you had started stroking his hair, and it was over for him. jongho wasn’t much of a snorer (at least not always) but you couldn’t help but smile at the little snuffles he let out here and there, occasionally shifting in his sleep, wrapping himself tighter around you.  

you suddenly realized during one of his snuffle-move around-go back to sleep moments that he hadn’t gone back to sleep.  his breathing was still slow and deep, but he was squirming around a bit, trying to get comfortable again. finally, he raised his head to gaze at you, his eyes swollen with sleep, his full cheeks sporting a pink blush. 

before you could even jokingly give him a little “good morning” greeting, jongho leaned in and pressed his lips to your own. you made a soft noise of surprise, but quickly forgot yourself in the sensations the kiss was providing. you moved your lips against his, breathing in his scent as the kiss grew more urgent. jongho lifted himself over you, placing his arms on the sides of your head as he continued his heavy kisses. his lips started to wander, teasingly trailing kisses and small licks down your jaw and onto your neck. before he could get any further, you grabbed his face gently, squishing his cheeks and making him face you. 

“why’d you stop me???” jongho whined, the pout on his sleepy face growing as you giggled at his vulnerable expression. you placed a small kiss on his pouted lips, but quickly drew away before he could get handsy again. 

“jongho, you’ve been awake for a while 20 seconds and you’re already so needy? what’s going on?” you say teasingly, grinning at his helpless expression. 

jongho blinks slowly at you as you keep smiling at him, his eyes still full of sleep. 

“jus’ wanna be with you.” he mumbles. 

oh man. 

that was it.

boy did he have a way with words.

“oh-thank you-“ you stutter out, very very flustered by his small comment.

he had barely spit out a coherent sentence and you were practically melting at his words. if there was one thing you absolutely loved about jongho, it was his romanticism. he didn’t even do it on purpose half the time, he was so honest about his love for you, he just couldn’t help it. heartfelt confessions out the wazoo were a staple in your relationship, and you never got tired of it. 

you let go of his face, a blush spreading across your own cheeks for what must have been the fourth time in a few hours. the affect that man had on you was atrocious. jongho kept his eyes on your own, studying your expression as he witnessed your pink cheeks turn red. he took that as a cue to lean in once more, peppering soft kisses all over your heated face, paying special attention to the tip of your nose and the corners of your lips. he teased you with quick, fleeting kisses before you grew impatient and smooshed his inviting mouth into your own. jongho immediately deepened the kiss, tilting his head to better access you. 

he kissed you slowly and sweetly, taking his time with you. his breath was steady and warm, and his body was heavenly lying on top of yours. after what seems like hours, he pulled away to breathe, making sure to keep his hands on you, stroking your warm cheeks with his gentle fingers, pressing his forehead onto your own. his lips find yours again in no time, and this time it never escalates. his lingering exhaustion is clear in the lazy kisses he gives you, but you’re not complaining. you were tired too, and while you both love the intimacy of sex, sometimes a lazy sleepy makeout was all the both of you wanted. 

you and jongho kiss for what feels like forever, reveling in the immense comfort that comes with being close with someone you love so dearly. you eventually wrap your arms back around him, and you feel his kisses grow more chaste as his sleepy body starts to rebel. finally, pulling away with a big sigh, jongho looks you in the eye.

“love?”

“yea, jjong?” you say, brushing a stray strand of soft brown hair out of his reddened face. 

“i think imma need sum more sleep mkay-”he whispers, his voice cracking slightly as a yawn cuts off his sentence. 

you smile softly, landing a kiss on the tip of his pretty nose. you almost giggle as his eyes start to droop again, but you withhold your teasing as you also begin to feel the affects of laying in bed for hours.

“that’s okay, jjong, i don’t mind. get all the rest you need.” you mumble softly, the affection basically oozing out of your voice. as if on cue, jongho gives you one more soft kiss and tucks his face back into your neck, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. you nuzzle your own face into jonghos warmth, snuffling slightly as his hair tickles your nose. his breaths even out in record time. 

and then begin the soft snores. 

you don’t mind, he does that sometimes if he’s had a particularly stressful work week. if anything, it’s endearing. and besides, you weren’t that tired. you could afford to be kept awake by your boyfriends adorable snores for a little while longer. 

especially if it meant you got to keep him in your arms.

anything for your choi jongho.

love of my life is what you mutter, smiling against him as you eventually drop off to sleep, your soft breaths synchronizing with his own. choi jongho, your comfort. 

choi jongho, 

your home.

———————————————————————-

a/n #2: yea i did say his nose was pretty again i will not be taking criticism cus where’s the lie🤨

n-e way i hope you enjoyed<333

eclipse playlist

a playlist of songs inspired by the group from this fic in the ateez x idol!reader universe

⇀ red moon - kard

⇀ lilili yabbay - seventeen

⇀ 4walls - f(x)

⇀ invu - taeyeon

⇀ blue hour - txt

⇀ candy - baekhyun

⇀ save - nct 127 x amoeba culture

⇀ last sequence - wjsn

⇀ we must love - onf

⇀ my universe - bts x coldplay