To Boil A Frog
to boil a frog
pairing: seungcheol x reader wordcount: 15.6k summary: you & cheol go back, like way back. growing up together, you never felt anything more for him than a proximity based fondness, but things are a little different since you moved back to town. genre/themes: tattoo artist!coups, childhood acquaintances to lovers. brother’s best friend (but it’s not so much a theme as it is just a statement of fact). S L O W B U R N. idk that this is even fluff but more like just romance? mention of alcohol, tattoos, needles…cat?
a/n: truly idk what this is and why. it’s so long & self indulgent, but i’m in my soft era i guess, hah!

“Hi, I’m here for my tattoo with Seungcheol?” you checked in with the unfairly stylish receptionist at the front desk of the tattoo and piercing studio. “I booked for 3pm.”
“Okay, yes, here you are!” they smiled up at you, “If you want to just take a seat, I’ll see how he’s doing with prepping the room.”
“Perfect!” you smiled before moving towards the waiting area.
Your foot bounced excitedly as you waited. In addition to being excited to get your first tattoo, you were doubly excited because you had history with Seungcheol. He’d been one of your brother’s closest friends growing up and despite not keeping in touch since they’d left for college, you’d really enjoyed following his artistic evolution on social media. You weren’t sure if he’d recognize you anymore, to be honest. It would be funnier if he didn’t.
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More Posts from Lonesumrainbow
of shy smiles and misunderstandings



pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, college!au, wonwoo is so whipped word count: 1.8k
summary: wonwoo sees you at the library almost every day and falls head over heels for you. only, you seem to be avoiding him for annoyingly unknown reasons.

You’re here again, Wonwoo notes, pushing his glasses up.
You’ve been sitting at the table across from his in the library for the past three weeks after school, and he couldn’t help but notice you. You’d be nose-deep in your course materials while Wonwoo does some light reading for leisure, which has increasingly turned into light reading sessions where he not-so-subtly observes you instead.
He’s well aware of how much he’d be made fun of if any of his friends found out about his recent fixation on you, but he just couldn’t help but notice the way you’d scrunch your nose when you didn’t understand the material, or how you’d tilt your head and mumble things to yourself in order to try to understand whatever you were reading. It’s cute, he justifies in his head, then sighs. He’s whipped.
You look up at the sound only to meet his widening eyes right away, and he holds your gaze, frozen like a deer in headlights.
To his surprise, the corners of your lips curl up as you give him a shy smile before going back to your course material without waiting for a reaction from him. He silently thanks you for doing that as his whole face heats up, turning absolutely red at the small gesture.
He's so gone.

In the days after your little interaction (which Wonwoo flips over and over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling at 2AM in the morning), the two of you fall into a routine of softly smiling at each other whenever one of you catches the other's eye, and Wonwoo is getting incredibly anxious as he contemplates whether or not to take the seat across from you and strike up a conversation. For one, you don't seem to be creeped out by him, if your friendly smiles are any indication, but what if you find him weird after he does that? He'll have to avoid his comfort place forever, possibly switch colleges, maybe even move out of the country-
"Woah, Wonwoo, you literally look like you just saw a ghost!" Soonyoung's voice booms through the silent library, gaining the attention of the surrounding students, you included. He earns a few annoyed shushes, to which he sheepishly apologises for.
In a quieter voice, he nudges Wonwoo. "You didn't even look like that that one time we went to the escape room and you saw an actual ghost-"
Soonyoung trails off, realising that Wonwoo really isn't paying attention to him at all, instead looking dazed and staring directly at something in front of him. Or someone, Soonyoung realises, as he follows Wonwoo's line of sight only to see you smiling back at Wonwoo.
"No way, Wonwoo. Are you crushing on someone? Why didn't you tell me?" Soonyoung laughs in disbelief, smacking Wonwoo on the back. Wonwoo turns to look at Soonyoung, just noticing his presence beside him. Shooting a small smile at Soonyoung, he turns back towards you only to see that you'd directed your attention back to your work, though you look a little... hurt. Did someone say something to you while he was distracted? There’s no one in your immediate vicinity, so that was unlikely. What was the reason then?
Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you sigh, hurriedly gathering your things. Much to his dismay, you don’t even spare Wonwoo a glance as you leave the library.
"Hey... are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, cautious. Wonwoo shrugs.
Maybe you're just having a bad day?

After that whole ordeal with Soonyoung, you don't sit at your usual table anymore. Wonwoo finds you hidden in a corner deep inside the library while he's browsing for new books to read one day, and if you noticed him there, you don't give any indication, much to Wonwoo's disappointment. He can't shake off the feeling that he must have done something, but he can't figure out what even after racking his brain for answers late at night when he can't sleep.
He figured you were never going to interact with him again, and resolved to move on.
That was until fate hit Wonwoo in the face with an opportunity to interact with you again, courtesy of a mutual friend. Mingyu, his friend from the track-and-field club, had invited him to have lunch in one of the college's cafeterias with some other friends. Having not seen Mingyu in at least a few weeks, Wonwoo naturally agreed. Besides, who can say no to this puppy-like friend of his?
Which gave him quite the shock of his life, as he walked up to Mingyu's table only to see you sitting amongst his friends. Your eyes widened too, like you weren't expecting Wonwoo to show up.
Mingyu clears his throat, snapping the both of you out of your daze. Wonwoo moves to sit down on the empty seat beside Mingyu. "Wonwoo, this is y/n, my photography club partner. y/n, this is Wonwoo, my friend from the track-and-field club. I reckon the two of you don’t need me to introduce you guys though, y'all seem to know each other already."
"Yeah, he did get a good laugh out of me," you snarkily reply, earning a confused glance from Wonwoo. A good laugh? When did he ever laugh at you?
Mingyu glances between you and Wonwoo, and Wonwoo sees his eyes light up in realisation. "Oh, so he's the library-"
"Seokmin, what were you saying about hummingbirds earlier?" you cut Mingyu off with a glare, turning to Seokmin for a response.
The lunch goes by swimmingly, though Wonwoo feels himself getting more and more fidgety as he thinks of ways to bring up what you said about him earlier. He has never laughed at you once, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this situation.
"Hey, y/n-" it was like you expected Wonwoo to reach out to you, because you immediately slam your hands on the table and stand up the moment he opened his mouth.
"Sorry, guys, I just remembered I had to meet Minghao to work on an assignment, like, five minutes ago! I'll see y'all!" you blurt out hurriedly before jogging out of the cafeteria.
"y/n and Minghao don't even share any classes together," Mingyu raises an eyebrow. A deafening silence looms over the three remaining men. Seokmin whistles shortly after, breaking the silence.
"So..." he starts, leaning in Wonwoo's direction. "you're the library cutie-turned-asshole."
Wonwoo's eyes widen, but before he can say anything, Mingyu beats him to it. "Why did you laugh at her?"
"What? I never did! Where is this coming from?" Wonwoo replies in disbelief, brows furrowing together in confusion. Why was everyone accusing him of laughing at you?
Mingyu recounts the day Soonyoung joined Wonwoo in the library, but Wonwoo realises that the details Mingyu provides are damningly different.
"They said your friend said something to you while looking at them and you guys started laughing," Mingyu explains, "come on, man. They were really interested in you, too."
"No- wait, what? I wasn't laughing. And," Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Soonyoung was calling me out on my crush on them."
Another silence ensues. Seokmin and Mingyu side-eye each other very obviously, earning a sigh from Wonwoo. "They misunderstood, didn't they?"
"Well, it's not too late to make it right, I guess," Seokmin replies, pursing his lips together, "they're probably at the library right now."

Setting a cup of a chocolate chip frappuccino down on your table, Wonwoo pulls out the chair beside you and takes a seat. You remove your earphones, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I asked the guys what you like to drink," Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "chocolate chip frappuccino with oat milk and lots of whipped cream, right?"
"Why are you here, Wonwoo?" you deadpan monotonously, sending a shiver down Wonwoo's spine. This was a completely different you from before all this happened, but Wonwoo supposes you had every right to be upset considering the misunderstanding.
"I... I wanted to apologise. But I wasn't laughing at you, I swear! My friend was..." Wonwoo switches to a lower voice, "teasing me about my crush on you."
"Huh?" you reply, leaning closer. "Your friend was?"
Wonwoo takes a deep breath, willing himself not to freak out at the close proximity between the two of you as well as what he's about to admit. "I... have a crush on you. My friend realised, and he was laughing at me about it."
You don't say anything in reply, and Wonwoo looks up at you in fear. What he sees next, though, is something he'll never forget. In front of him sits a very, very flustered you, your ears red and your lips parted in shock at what you'd just heard. He resists the urge to take a picture, and resolves to memorising the look on your face in his head instead.
"y/n?" Wonwoo waves a hand in front of your face after a while, and you snap out of your trance, somehow turning even redder.
"I- I'm sorry, Wonwoo. I thought you were making fun of me," you look down in embarrassment, playing with your fingers. Wonwoo nearly coos at the sight, resisting the urge to take your hands in his.
"It's okay, y/n, I probably would have misunderstood too," Wonwoo chuckles, and you look up, shooting him that soft smile he'd missed so much. "though, I did hear from a certain 6 foot giant that you were interested in me."
You squeaked in surprise, eyes widening. He could practically hear your thoughts of 'bloody murder' through your eyes, which Wonwoo presumes to be directed at Mingyu.
"So," Wonwoo begins, staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I think you could make up for the misunderstanding by letting me take you on a date."

BONUS!
Wonwoo pushes the door to the library open, walking in with light steps. He locates you with ease, seated at your usual table with your nose deep in your books as usual. He smiles in endearment at the sight, walking over to take a seat at the table across from yours.
You look up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, meeting Wonwoo's eyes. You furrow your eyebrows as he takes a seat at the table across from yours. Heaving a sigh, you leave your seat and go over to sit in front of him.
"Why are you sitting here?" you raise an eyebrow, waiting for his response. Wonwoo simply laughs.
"Nooooo," he whines a little, much to your surprise. "go back there."
You shoot a confused look at him but comply, returning to your seat. Upon settling down, you look up to see Wonwoo gazing at you with a lovingly soft smile, and you can't help but beam at him in return.
Wonwoo suddenly rises from his spot, walking over to take a seat in front of you.
"Hi," he begins, "I like you."
"What are you doing?" you giggle, absolutely endeared by his goofiness.
"I'm doing what I'd always wanted to do before we first talked to each other," Wonwoo explains, taking your hands in his.
"Happy anniversary, love."

a/n: hey hey! this is my first seventeen fic ever hehehe i hope it was decent!! (wonwoo and the library together really has me feeling some type of way)
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua
masterlist
Hwang Hyunjin Recs Pt.2
bold = completed, italics = on going, 🌸 = personal favourites
Pt. 1
Miniseries
Vesper by @/seospicybin
White Heat by @/seospicybin
Pluto by @/seospicybin 🌸
Three of A Kind by @/seospicybin (Chan x Reader x Hyunjin) 🌸🌸
Friendship by @/ballelino (Lee Know x Reader x Hyunjin)
Worn Out Jackets , Pt.2 by @/scxrlettwxtches
The Strange Man of Monterrey Manor by @/quokkacore
Hyunjin Birthday Mini Series by @/telesvng
Just Friends…Unless? by @/puppy-byun
Oneshots
Undertones by @/cb97percent 🌸🌸
Charcoal Blues in C Minor by @/cb97percent
Muddy Water by @/j-0ne25 🌸
Rapunzel by @/j-0ne25
Saturn by @/seospicybin
Hunger by @/seospicybin
Venus by @/seospicybin
Soul , Epilogue by @/ballelino 🌸🌸🌸
The Duke and I by @/chanluster 🌸🌸
Two Types of Fireworks by @/chanluster
Sunrise by @/leggomylino
The Study of Relationships by @/huenjin
True Love's Irony by @/scxrlettwxtches
A Throne of Roses , A Crown of Thorns by @/scxrlettwxtches
Nobody Compares To You by @/scxrlettwxtches
Pretty Cute by @/scxrlettwxtches
"Come live with me." by @/skzhua
Show me what's under that pillow by @/straywrds
Just Stay With Me by @/straywrds 🌸
Clover Prince by @/chaninfused
Row, Row, Row Your Boat by @/chaninfused
Evermore by @/staytheword 🌸
A Train, Her Lips, The Music by @/the7thcrow
Just in Case by @/the7thcrow
Moonrise , Moonlight by @/healinghyunjin
Love Letters to Who by @/skz317cb97
Half-Dead Romance by @/hanibalistic 🌸
Forgive by @/ncitygirls 🌸
Back in Time by @/changbeanie 🌸🌸
Forward in Time by @/changbeanie 🌸🌸
It's Knot You by @/changbeanie 🌸🌸
Your (not so) friendly neighborhood superhero by @/telesvng
babysitter.com by @/telesvng
coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart by @/chaoticminhos 🌸
[8.45] by @/lettersfromaphrodite
Double Trouble by @/linothinker
Cacoethes by @/143hyunes
wedding ; jeon wonwoo

genre - fake relationship, friends to lovers, kinda slow burn
wordcount - 8.6k
disclaimers - lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, fic under the cut, female/feminine aligned reader, mentions of alcohol and being drunk
a/n - this one has been in the works for a loooong time, finally got the energy to finish it! hope you enjoy, i put a lot of work into this one. happy holidays! <3

you put down your phone with a sigh. your mother had just given you a call to let you know that one of your cousins was getting married in a month, and your mother wanted to let you know the plan for their wedding early on so you could get started on planning your trip back to your hometown. she gave you dates and dressing codes, and other wedding things that blended together into one blur in your head as you mindlessly responded to your mothers queries and requests.
one of the things she brushed over was the fact that you had to bring a date for the entire wedding. the ceremony, the dinner, the dance, you always had to have someone on your arm. it was a rule that your cousin was apparently very adamant about. in the blur of questions from your mother, you had accidently answered a question that you should have saved for a later time, when you hadn’t been just getting home from a 2 hour long exam.
“so, y/n, you do have a date right?”
“yes, i do.”
your mother gasped, bringing herself to a conclusion that you had not written. “my baby has a boyfriend? oh, how sweet!” her coos were quickly pushed aside when you heard a door creak open on her end of the line, followed by your fathers voice asking her if she was ready for dinner. your mother quickly said goodbye as you pressed the red ‘end call’ button, and the reality of the belief your mother was under finally pieced together in your head.
your family are expecting you to show up at a family gathering with a boyfriend you do not have.
you leaned forward, elbows digging into your knees as you tangled your hands in your hair. every thought of how you could fix this raced through your head at once, but every solution made less sense than the last. in the end, you came to the conclusion that you would have to find someone willing to be your boyfriend for a weekend, which is a statement that is easier said than done.
-
laughter echoed around the room as you sat on the sofa of hoshi’s apartment with your head in your hands. while you thought the entire situation was simply traumatic, everyone else thought it was hilarious. some of them had pity, but even the sympathetic ones were stifling their laughter as they comforted you.
you couldnt help but laugh along at the absurdity of the entire thing. it was really something that could only happen to you.
“guys, i seriously have no idea what to do! its not like i can just rent a boyfriend for a couple days!” dokyeom was holding onto mingyus arm as he laughed so hard he was out of breath. joshua faked a serious face as he looked towards you. “thats not true, im sure you could rent hoshi for the right price.”
you sighed a dramatic, exasperated sigh as you flopped back onto hoshis sofa, staring at the ceiling as you laughed. the laughter fizzled out and everyone realized it was getting late.
“i should probably get going and try to find a desperate guy who would free up a weekend to go to my cousins wedding with me.” you laughed as you stood up, brushing your hair back behind you. wonwoo stood up with you. “y/n, i could give you a ride home, since its the same building anyways.” you smiled and nodded towards him as you said goodbye to everyone and followed wonwoo to his car.
the ride back to your apartment building was quiet, with the low radio being the only sound filling the car. car rides with wonwoo always had a peaceful silence, never awkward. it was comfortable.
you thought over the sentence a thousand and one times in your head before you finally broke the silence. “uh, wonwoo.. can i ask you, um, a big favour?” you looked down at your hands before looking over at the man next to you, a grin now plastered across his face as he glanced in your direction. “i wonder what this could be?” he said, followed by a chuckle. your ears turned pink as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, a smile wide on your face to match his.
you took a deep breath before finally asking, “wonwoo, could you be my date to my cousins wedding?” you smiled over at him from the passenger seat, trying your best to look convincing enough for him to say yes. all things considered, something must have worked. “of course i will, it’d be an honour to be your boyfriend for a couple days.” the pink flush on your ears travelled all across your face as you smiled ear to ear. he parked at your apartment complex as you leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “thank you so so so much wonwoo!” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and lightly squeezing as you pulled away and opened the car door. “ill send you all the details when i know all the details,” you told wonwoo as you walked into your apartment building together. he nodded as he pressed the button for the elevator. “hopefully ill be able to impress your family.” you and wonwoo smiled at each other as the elevator door beeped open and you stepped inside.
-
you sat at your dinner table, a notepad and pen sitting in front of you. your mother had just called and informed you of all the details of the wedding, and you decided that it would make your life easier if you wrote down everything she said this time. she gave you details on where everyone would stay, the timeline of events, and every little thing in between. the phone call had lasted for at least 20 minutes. you had always said, your mother was nothing if not thorough. after overlooking the list in front of you, you picked up your phone and typed a text.
y/n : hey, are u busy rn?
wonu 🐱 : I’m at practice, is everything ok?
y/n : oh yeah its fine, its just stuff about the wedding. call me when you get home :)
wonu 🐱 : Will do. :)
while you waited for wonwoo to finish practice, you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. as you did, you saw countless pictures of people from your hometown posting pictures with their significant others. you liked their pictures and kept scrolling, but the photos made you feel.. off. since you had moved away from your hometown, you hadnt had any relationships. you had met people, but nothing ever amounted to anything more than a coffee date or a study session at your campus library. you were just always so busy with school and spending time with the boys that you had simply never sought out a relationship in your years of living away from your family. while you were content with your independence, seeing photos of couples happy and in love made you feel left out. not envy, just a feeling of ‘i would be happy with what they have’.
since starting university, romance has been on your back burner to say the least. you had barely considered your own feelings between exams and essays. maybe this was why every time your friends caught someone checking you out, or blatantly flirting with you, your response was always “really? i didnt notice.” your group of friends from university had always been suspicious of your relationship with the 13 men you spend most of your freetime with. they were convinced that if you did end up having a secret relationship, it would be with one of them. you shut down the accusations every time, insistent that they were just friends. and thats all they were. just friends.
breaking you out of your mindless scrolling, your phone rang. you shook out of your daze as you accepted the call. “hey! how was practice?” wonwoo groaned dramatically. “you dont even understaaaand!” you laughed and shook your head at his complaining. “but im sure ill make it. alright, whats the deal with the wedding?” he said, leaving his dramatics behind. “yes! okay, so there is one major difference than what i was told.. it will be a whole week, not just the weekend. if you cant make it its fine i understa-” wonwoo cut you off. “oh thats okay! i dont mind.” you paused in shock. “you dont mind? like you dont mind being a fake couple for a week?” you had expected him to back out, not because he was unreliable, but because it was a big thing to agree to. but, wonwoo insisted. “im serious! id be happy to, itd be nice to get out of this place for a bit and spend time with your family.” lots of people saw wonwoo as being a cold person, but anyone who knows him knows hes a huge softie. you were overjoyed at wonwoos willingness to do this for you.
you went on to explain everything to wonwoo, as he listened attentively and was eager to help you and your family in any way he was able to. the wedding was on a thursday afternoon in the middle of june. your mother wanted you to come home a couple days before the wedding, so you decided that you would get there on the sunday before the wedding, and leave the day after the wedding. wonwoo agreed and said he could even drive (as long as you gave him directions). you had thought you had everything all in order, but wonwoo piped up with something you havent even considered up until this point.
“wait, so what about our fake relationship? we need details to make it believable.” wonwoo really was an actor at heart. until now, you had entirely forgotten that you would actually need to seem like a couple in order to be perceived as a couple. “yeah youre right, what kind of things would we have to detail though?” you both thought about the bare minimum for a second, before deciding the things you would decide on beforehand and the things you could just make up on the spot if necessary. “alright, i think we should figure out how we met and how long we’ve been together. those are the stereotypical new couple questions.” wonwoo sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so you just went along with it. “how about, we met when i was working at that convenience store on the corner, and we’ve been together… 6 months?” you were completely pulling this out of thin air, but wonwoo hummed in agreeance on the other end of the phone call. “convenience store, 6 months. sounds believable to me.”
with everything clarified about your cousins wedding, all there was left to do was wait. well, besides finding something to wear, and packing, and tying any lose ends in your schoolwork. but other than that it was a breeze. the month did seem to fly by. in no time, you were fitting your suitcase into the trunk of wonwoo’s car and leaving to make the drive to your hometown. along the way, wonwoo made sure to ask lots of questions about your family and childhood friends, and you told him lots of stories as well. as you pulled into the driveway of your family home, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. the house hadnt changed a bit in the years you were away.
as you and wonwoo got out of the car and began taking your luggage out, the front door of the house swung open and your mother rushed out, eager to see you after so long. she ran down the driveway in order to engulf you in a bear hug. you laughed as she squeezed you so hard you thought youd explode. your father stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a toothy grin across his face as he leaned against the doorframe. wonwoo shut the trunk of his car, and your mothers attention immediately switched to him. you laughed as he squeezed his cheeks and gave him an equally tight bear hug.
“oh its so nice to meet you dear! what did you say your name was?” your mother had her hands firmly planted on wonwoos shoulders as she smiled up at him. wonwoos eyes were bright and happy. “im wonwoo, its lovely to meet you mrs l/n.” your mother cooed at wonwoo as she pulled him in for another hug. she admired you and wonwoo together, until the fire alarm started blaring from the kitchen, prompting her to run past your father and back into the house. wonwoo picked up the bags as the two of you followed your mother into the house, albeit less rushed than she was.
your father automatically took a liking to wonwoo, talking to him at the table as you helped your mother finish dinner. the sight of them laughing together and your father lightly hitting wonwoos shoulder with a smile was such a warm moment. the domesticity of it all made your heart swell. with the ding of a timer, you and your mother brought the dishes over to the table and laid them in front of wonwoo and your father. wonwoo looked at the table in awe. you made sure to tell him that your mother wasnt the best at making the right portions, which was evident by the mountains of food sitting in front of you.
your mother took her seat next to your father, and you took the one across from her, on wonwoos right. he smiled at you as you sat down, and you smiled back, trying to ignore the pink flush you could feel hazing across your face. all the time you had known wonwoo, why was being around him making you feel this way now? you quickly pushed the thought aside as your mother began asking questions between bites.
“so, how long have you two lovebirds been together?” she had a smirk on her face as she glanced between you and wonwoo. wonwoo spoke before you got the chance. “we’ve known each other for longer, but i officially asked her to be my girlfriend 6 months ago.” the fond look on his face as he said this would make anyone melt. if you hadn’t been a part of the ruse, you wouldve never questioned the love in his eyes. damn, hes a good actor. he gazed over at you as he finished his sentence. you smiled back at him before turning to your mother. “our 6 month anniversary was actually last week.” your mother held her hands to her chest as she congratulated you both. wonwoo held your hand on the table as your mother began telling a story about how your father had originally asked her to be his girlfriend. you didnt hear much of the story over your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. wonwoos hand was warm, and much bigger than yours. you had decided that wonwoo was simply too good at acting the boyfriend role. did he have some secret girlfriend none of you knew about? was he taking classes? you tried to act casual as he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. you knew you couldnt overthink anything that would happen over the next week. it was all just for the act, right? right.
dinner went by in a blur, and soon you were being led to the spare room your mother had cleaned out for you and wonwoo to share. you shivered as you walked in. it was cooler in this room than the rest of the house. it wasnt major, though, so you didnt say anything to your mother about it. she smiled as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving you and wonwoo in the bedroom, alone. as soon as your mother left, wonwoo flopped down onto the bed in the middle of the room. you looked at him and laughed. he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, even though the growing smile on his face as you stood over him with your hands on your hips gave him away. you shook your head as you walked to the other side of the room where wonwoo put your bags. you rumaged through your bag for a sweater. you dug through the bag, but you couldnt find the one hoodie you swear you packed. defeated, you sat on the floor next to your bag and pulled out every item of clothing and put it in your lap. no sweater. with a frustrated sigh, you scooped everything back into your bag and stood up. at this point, wonwoo had sat up, his arms supporting his weight as he watched you get up.
“whats wrong?” he quirked an eyebrow. you gestured to your bag. “i forgot to pack a hoodie, i swear i did, but i mustve left it on my sofa.” wonwoo thought for a second before sitting up entirely. “here, take this.” he began taking off the hoodie he was wearing, and for a second, you couldnt take your eyes off of him. as he pulled the sweater over his head, the shirt he wore underneath rose with it, revealing his bare abs. you stood watching, mouth agape. everyone had said that wonwoo worked out a lot, but you had never seen the proof for yourself. you snapped out of it as he fixed his shirt and ran one hand through his hair, passing the sweater to you in the other. “oh wonwoo, its fine, i was just gonna ask my mom for one.” but, he wouldnt take no for an answer. he tilted his head to the side as he tossed the sweater in your direction. you caught it, and he smiled that gorgeous smile youve been seeing all day.
you pulled wonwoos hoodie over your head, and you were engulfed by the smell of his cologne. the scent overtook your senses as you situated yourself into the sweater. the warmth of the material mixed with wonwoos leftover body heat warmed you up instantly. so much that when you caught wonwoo staring at you wearing his hoodie, you didnt even feel the way your face instantly heated up as you sat on the bed next to him. he moved over to give you room to move further onto the bed, and suddenly the thought of being closer to wonwoo made your heart race.
wonwoo sat on the bed, typing away on his phone as you slid onto the mattress next to him. you watched him, focused on the message he was sending. the black tshirt he had been wearing under his hoodie was tight enough that it hugged all the parts of his body in the right ways. the way the fabric draped across his chest, and was rolled up at the sleeves. as wonwoo put his phone down and looked in your direction, you were quick to look away and take your own phone out of your pocket. luckily, he didnt seem to notice your staring. wonwoo looked past you, towards the clock above your head. “is it really that late already?” you glanced up at the time on your phone screen. “11:30? yeah, i guess.” wonwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise and stood up, leaving you by yourself on the bed. he began rummaging through his bag before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and another tshirt. he left the room without a word, presumably to go to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you did the same, shutting the door and quickly getting changed before he came back into the bedroom.
after getting changed, you lightly knocked on the bathroom door so you could brush your teeth. as you did, the door swung open and you were greeted by wonwoo with a toothbrush already hanging out of his mouth. you laughed to yourself as you walked past him in order to get to the sink. as you started brushing your teeth, you straightened your back and stood next to wonwoo in the mirror. not able to easily smile, you both did your best to smile at each other with your eyes through the vanity mirror. the two of you stood there in the mirror together, before wonwoo finished up and you followed behind him not long after.
when you walked into the bedroom, you were greeted with wonwoo creating a sort of barrier in the middle of the bed made of decorative throw pillows that your mother had laid out on the bed for when you got there. you stood in the doorway, letting him finish whatever he was doing before you began to question him. hearing the door shut, he turned around, and gestured to the bed. “i thought itd make you feel more comfortable.” you smiled at the sentiment, but you hadnt really thought to this point yet. you completely forgot about the fact that you and wonwoo would be sharing a bed for the next week. while you or wonwoo could have just slept on the sofa, the facade that you were busy putting on was more important. so, pillow barrier it was. you shivered as you snuggled under the duvet that was on the bed, still feeling that same chill that you did when you first walked into the room earlier that day. “goodnight, y/n.” wonwoos voice came from behind you. “goodnight, wonwoo.” you smiled as you said it, and wonwoo clicked the switch for the lamp, enveloping you both in the darkness of the night.
warmth. when you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the sudden warmth that you felt, compared to the chill from the night before. at first, you equated it to the shine of the sun that was streaming in through the cracks of the blinds. but it was a different warmth. you opened your eyes, curious to find the answers to your questions. somehow, as soon as your eyes fluttered open, all of your questions were answered in one glance. on the floor next to the bed laid one of your mothers decorative pillows, the ones that should have been in the middle of the bed, and not on the floor next to the (obviously broken) space heater. as you started to fully wake up, you felt slow, light breaths on the back of your neck. you also felt the arms snaked around your waist, and the hands that lightly rested on the mattress in front of you. your mind went blank. what were you supposed to do? move and wake him up? leave it and pretend it didnt happen? in the moment, you decided to go with the latter. carefully stretching towards the nightstand on your side of the bed, you grabbed your phone and pulled your arm back to your body. wonwoo stirred slightly, but stayed asleep. the clock on your phone read 6:00am, so you felt no reason to wake him up already.
you had no idea at what point in the night this had happened, but some part of you wasnt mad it happened. wonwoos body heat was enough to keep you warm, and youd be lying if you didnt like the feeling of his arms wrapping around you as you slept. the almost silent snores coming from behind you had somehow lulled you back to sleep, as you woke up 20 minutes later with your phone on the bed next to your pillow. you also noticed how your back was suddenly no longer covered, sending a shiver down your spine. when you heard the footsteps approaching the bedroom, you decided to just pretend you were still asleep instead of facing the events of the night. the door creaked and shut, as you felt the bed dip back down behind you. you didnt say anything, but soon after you felt the same arm creep back around your waist and settle back onto its previous place on the mattress. wonwoo settled into place, as did you.
the questions in your head did make some points. if wonwoo had accidentally started cuddling you at night, why would he return to the same position while awake? how would you address this? you just decided not to. the comfort of having him flush against your back overpowered the thoughts of wanting to stop it. you never wanted the morning to end, although you knew you obviously couldn’t stay in bed all day. it was still pretty early, so you just didn’t bother to worry about getting up just yet. your strategy of pretending to be asleep had been successful before. you closed your eyes as sun began to shine more brightly through the small opening in the curtains. maybe it was just your own, but as you felt yourself drift asleep again for the second time that morning, it was as if you could feel wonwoo’s own heartbeat against your back.
you weren’t sure how long you had slept, but you felt a light push on your shoulder as you began to feel yourself wake up again. “hey, wake up. it’s 8:00.” your eyes slowly opened as you looked over at wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed. his hair was messy, and flat on one side. you smiled at the sight in front of you, as he scrunched his nose and ruffled his hair. god, he really was beautiful. you had always known that wonwoo was conventionally handsome. but seeing him in this context, just waking up as the sun shone on him, he was breathtaking. you quickly realized that you had been staring at him for longer than what seemed normal, so you began to sit up and try to wake up fully. you yawned and stretched as wonwoo walked in front of you to open the blinds all the way. you groaned and covered your eyes dramatically. wonwoo laughed, smiling down at you as you opened one eye and glared up at him. he picked up his clothes and made his way out of the bedroom. you watched as he left and shut the door behind him, and you sighed. this week just started, and the outcomes are already looking questionable for keeping your relationship the same as it was before.
as you left the bathroom after brushing your teeth, the smell of breakfast filled the hallways. your mother had always been the best chef, and her cooking was one of your favourite things about coming home. you walked back to the bedroom and peeked through the door, only to notice that wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. thats when you heard your parents laughter travel up the staircase. you briefly smiled to yourself as you grabbed your phone from the bed and shoved it in your pocket. you headed downstairs and saw your parents and wonwoo sitting in the same seats as they had been the evening before. they all smiled brightly as you walked through the kitchen. “good morning sweetheart!” your mother beamed as she gestured for you to come eat. you sat down with wonwoo on your left again, and smiled at him as you reached past him for a pitcher of water to pour some into your glass. your mother gushed at this small interaction, making a comment to your father about how much the two of you remind her of them as young adults. “how did you both sleep? well rested for the festivities?” you both smiled and nodded as wonwoo spoke. “we slept well! i cant wait to meet more of your family, if they’re all like you three im in for a great week.” he grinned as your parents erupted with laughter and joy. wonwoo was always one for buttering up people, and god was he good at it. a small smile crept onto your face as your parents started telling wonwoo all about your family. you ate quietly as he sat listening intently to everything your mother was telling him.
the wedding wasnt for another two days, but your family had planned a small get-together prior just for everyone to warm up and see each other before the wedding. yourself and wonwoo had decided to just tag along with your parents rather than drive two separate cars. this party was more casual than the wedding, so you didn’t have to dress up that much. the two of you sat in silence in the backseat as your parents spoke amongst themselves. without warning, wonwoos hand made its way to your thigh, just above your knee. you looked down as his hand made contact with your skin through the rip in your jeans. he didnt bat an eye. he continued looking out the window, or looking at his phone. meanwhile, you tried to act like his touch didnt send electricity coursing through your body. without any second thought, you rested your hand on his and looked straight ahead as you tried to ignore your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
as you arrived at your aunts house, you noticed the amount of cars parked outside. you know your family is large, but visualizing it like this makes it seem crazy. your eyes widened at the sight, and you could even hear some of your families laughter before you even got inside. wonwoo walked by your side into the house. the same hum of talking remained for moments before everyone realized that more family had joined them. the house erupted, with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents all rushing over to greet the four of you. you hugged all of them, muttering quick ‘hello’s and giving smiles to relatives you hadnt seen in years. after some time everyone began returning to their prior seats, and you all followed suit. in the commotion, you hadn’t even noticed wonwoos hand had come to rest on your lower back.
as you sat down, it felt as though all eyes in the room gravitated to yourself and wonwoo. you looked around before clearing your throat. “everyone, this is my boyfriend wonwoo!” wonwoo smiled and gave a small wave. your family all smiled and started introducing themselves at once. you both laughed at the acts, but he made sure to speak to every person who was there. they all immediately adored him. you spent the evening catching up with family and exchanging old childhood memories. wonwoo chatted with your family as well, telling them about his life and family, as well as your ‘relationship’. throughout the night, his arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders the entire time. every so often when conversation died down you would look up at him to notice he had already been looking at you. you both giggled and turned away, somewhat flustered by the other.
your parents checked the time, noticing that it had been way later than they thought it was. you all stood up and began saying your goodbyes. as you spoke to your cousin who was getting married, you stifled a yawn. wonwoo noticed and smiled to himself as his arm found its way around your waist. he congratulated your cousin, and talked to her for a bit as you found yourself slowly sinking into wonwoos side. “i think someones tired, we should get going.” he and your cousin laughed as you nodded your head. you gave her one last hug as you followed your parents out of the house and back into the car. on the way back to the house, you had rested your head on wonwoos shoulder. as you fell in and out of consciousness, wonwoos hand lightly patted your head as you yawned.
you felt the car come to a stop as you pulled back into your parents driveway. you lifted your head and looked around, catching wonwoos eye as he gave you a fond look. you both got out of the car and went straight to your room after saying goodnight to your parents. rooting through your suitcase, you grabbed some pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you drowsily brush your teeth, as theres a quiet knock at the door. opening the door, youre met with wonwoo, toothbrush in hand. you try to give him a smile as you move over to give him some room. since coming to your parents house, brushing your teeth together had become a common occurrence. it was peaceful, and the silence was never awkward. although, it was rare for you and wonwoo to encounter awkward silence at any moment. silence with him was always calm, never awkward. you both just enjoyed each others company, and you both knew that. after a couple minutes of standing together at the sink, you both finished getting ready and went back to the bedroom. too tired to worry about wonwoos pillow ‘solution’ from the night before, you both just crawled into bed facing away from each other. you muttered goodnights as he flicked off the lamp.
you found yourself waking up at some point in the middle of the night shivering. the room had cooled off more than it was before, and the one blanket you had wasnt doing the best job. the air conditioning had to be on the lowest setting possible. you could still hear wonwoos soft snores as you moved gingerly and stood up, so you assumed he was still fast asleep. as you walked past the end of the bed, you heard him speak in a low whisper. “where are you going?” he was groggy, his eyes barely opening to look at you in the dark. “oh, im cold so im just going to grab another blanket. you can go back to sleep.” he nodded gently as his head layed back down on the pillow. you made your way to your mothers linen closet and grabbed a fluffy blanket from the top of the pile. as you got back in bed and snuggled back in with the other blanket, you heard wonwoos voice again. “wanna come over here?” you turned over in confusion to look at him, but them you saw what he meant. his arm was lifted, inviting you to snuggle into him. as you shivered again, you thought, ‘whats the worst that could happen?’ so, you shifted towards wonwoo until you met his chest and his arms wrapped the blankets around the two of you. with one of his arms under your head and the other around your waist, you pressed your head to his chest and drifted away to the sound of his heartbeat.
waking up in wonwoos arms again was a shocking experience for half asleep you. as you slowly felt yourself waking up, the warmth surrounding you yet again confused you for a moment. you blinked yourself awake before remembering the events of the middle of the night. the air in the room remained slightly cool as you began to slip out from underneath the blankets. wonwoo had always been a heavy sleeper, as he didnt budge when you snuck out from his hold. you made your way out of the room, the air in the rest of the house feeling the same as it did in your bedroom. you noticed the early morning sun that had been shining through the blinds. suddenly, you realized it may have been earlier than you thought. you shut the bedroom door as quietly as you could behind you when you returned, even though you knew wonwoo was sound asleep anyways. sitting on the side of the bed, you picked up your phone from the table where it sat. 5:47am. so it was way earlier than you thought. you settled back into the blankets, glancing over to see wonwoo in the same way he was when you left. lips slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. he looks so content. as carefully as you can, you lift his arm up and nestle back into his body. although he seemed as though he was in deep sleep when you got back, you couldnt help but notice the arm around your waist lightly squeeze as you nuzzle your face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder.
the next couple of days went by generally the same as the past two did. visiting family, spending time with your parents, just taking time to relax and be at home. acting as a couple actually wasn’t as difficult as you expected it to be. the most you would have to do is recite the backstory you had both made up, or hold hands every now and then to look believable. it felt like no time before it the day of the wedding, and you were all getting ready to head to the wedding hall. you fought to curl your hair in the mirror, but couldnt quite reach one part in the back. this caught wonwoo’s attention, as he made it was over to you behind the mirror. you sighed, making eye contact with him in the mirror. “do you want some help? i can finish it for you.” he reached for the curling iron as you nodded. “i just cant get that one piece, does the rest look okay?” you watched as he tilted his head in concentration while he curled the last few pieces of hair on the back of your head. “turn around.” you turned to face him as he inspected your hair. he fluffed up some pieces, then moved his hands to rest on either side of your face. “it looks great.” for a second, you couldve sworn the love in his eyes was genuine. well, you knew he had love for you, but in a platonic way. but this look felt like a different type of love. before you could process anything that had happened, your mother appeared in the doorway. “oh, arent you two just beautiful?” she crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. you both stood to face her so she could admire your dress and wonwoos suit. wonwoo had made an effort to get a tie that matched your dress. it didnt take long for your mother to notice the small sentiment as she raved about how cute it is and left to go tell your father. after close to an hour of getting ready in preparation for a wedding that wasnt even your own, you all made your way into your parents’ car and were officially enroute to the wedding.
the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. decorated from floor to ceiling with white and gold decorations, you walked in and your jaw dropped. you admired everything as wonwoo stood by your side, also taking in all the glamour of the space. after taking the time to appreciate the decor, wonwoo lightly takes your hand and pulls you into the wedding hall, trailing behind your parents. your parents picked a seat close to the front in order to get a good view of the ceremony. with different members of your extended family surrounding you, you felt right at home. wonwoos hand never left yours from the moment you both stepped into the venue. everyone quietly spoke amongst each other as they all waited for the wedding to begin. you told wonwoo about all the family members you could see, telling him small anecdotes and childhood stories. wonwoo always seemed to be so attentive. you loved that part of him. it didnt feel like long before the music queued and the wedding party began entering the room. you watched as your aunts, uncles, cousins, and their partners all walked into the room in pairs. you began tearing up at the sight of your family all looking so proud of your cousin. wonwoo noticed, squeezing your hand and lightly running his thumb along your knuckles. you wrapped your arm around his as your cousin turned the corner. she was absolutely stunning. you looked towards the front of the room to see her soon-to-be husband in tears at the sight of her. the display of love made you cry as well. all you had wanted since you were a young child was a love like they have now. as your cousin made her way down the aisle, wonwoo silently wiped your tears and squeezed your hand yet again. you gave him a thankful smile as he put his free hand on top of your intertwined fingers.
the rest of the wedding was just as heartwarming as the beginning. more tears were shed, smiles were had, it was a beautiful experience. as the wedding party all exited the room, you sat in wonwoos presence as the guests around you broke out into a chatter about how beautiful the wedding was. in the hum of the crowd, wonwoo watched you in a silent effort to make sure you were feeling okay. you had told him in a drunken rant in the weeks preceding the wedding how much you didnt want to go home because everyone was in love and happy together, and all you had was school and friends. you reassured wonwoo that you appreciate what you have, but as he practically carried you through your apartment, he could hear the sadness and disappointment in your voice through the intoxication. he never brought this up after, but this did make him want to go to this wedding and take care of you even more. as everyone in the wedding hall began standing up and getting ready to leave, wonwoo patted your thigh gently as you both joined everyone else. your parents waited by the door for the two of you to exit through the flood of people. on the drive back, your parents had plenty to say about the newlyweds and the wedding as a whole. you chimed in occasionally, but you were perfectly content with listening to your mothers rambling uninterrupted.
when you get home, you decide to stay in the same dress you had worn for the wedding ceremony, as the wedding dance and reception were only hours later. you relax in the family room with wonwoo, watching whatever your parents had been watching on tv before you left. you sit in the same comfortable silence that you two always manage to seek out. you drape your legs across his lap as he mindlessly draws invisible patterns along your legs with his fingers. interrupting the tv show, your phone rings. hoshi? you answer the phone and put it on speaker.
“y/n!! hows it going, loverboy giving you any trouble?” wonwoo rolls his eyes at hoshis obnoxious tone, but cant help the laugh escaping his body. you flash him a teasing smile.
“no hosh, im keeping him in line, dont worry.”
“you better be, im not there to do it so i was getting worried.”
wonwoo began playfully arguing with hoshi through the phone as you hold the phone and giggle at their antics. they go on and on for a couple minutes, before wonwoo inevitably gives up. hoshis persistence is truly something to be reckoned with. hoshi has some last final parting words before abruptly ending the phone call.
“have fun lovebirds, see you soon! i dont want to be a godfather yet though!”
you both laugh at him again, letting the silence fall back into the room. before long, its time to go back to the wedding hall for the reception. you find your seats next to your parents as the food begins to be served. wonwoo spots the open bar across the room, and asks if youd like a drink. you give him a nod and hes off to grab refreshments. you dont bother with specifics, as you trust wonwoos knowledge about your taste. he comes back with two glasses, and places one on the table in front of you. smiling in acknowledgement, he gives you a nod. you listen to speeches and songs, before the meal is over and the crowd is brought to the dance floor. being a couple drinks deep so far, you try to convince wonwoo to get up and dance with you. youve always been sort of a lightweight, but you also know your limits. sometimes. wonwoo, however, doesnt have the same taste for alcohol that you do. so he has one or two, and switches to soda before he even feels the slightest bit tipsy. still trying to drag him to the dance floor, you ask wonwoo to come with you in the nicest most stable voice you could muster. he gives in, following you out and joining the many people already enjoying the dj’s music.
you both get a taxi home, as your parents arent the party animals they used to be. wonwoo tries to bring you in quietly, but youre as stable and discrete as a baby giraffe in a china shop. after managing to successfully sneak you into the bedroom without angering your parents, he closes the door as you stumble to the bed and flop back into the blankets. wonwoo hangs his suit jacket on the back of the door and begins gathering his clothes to go get changed in the bathroom. as his hand touches the doorknob, he hears distinct babbling coming from the bed behind him. he turns around to see you staring at the ceiling, and he’s unsure if youre talking to yourself or him.
“what was that?”
you turn your head towards him and smile. “youre sooo handsome woo. im just so happy that youre my fake boyfriend.”
he laughs at this sudden proclamation. he sits on the bed next to you and leans back onto his arms, gazing down at you. “you're pretty sweet too, y/n. i couldnt ask for a better fake girlfriend.”
“but you knowww…” you attempt to whisper to him, as if it was a secret to him and yourself. “i couldddd be your real girlfriend toooooooo..” you give him a gleeful smile, your eyes closed. he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “is that so?” you nod profusely as he says this. he chuckles and stands up, tapping your leg.
“youve got to get ready for bed, you cant sleep in your dress and makeup.” you sit up in a slouch, giving wonwoo a disapproving look. he puts his hand out to help you up, and you gladly take it. he brings you to the bathroom and hoists you onto the counter, shutting the door to create a barrier between your elevated drunken volume and your parents’ bedroom. he takes a makeup wipe out of its packaging as he places his hand along your neck with his thumb on your jaw, holding your face in its place. you close your eyes as the cold cloth comes into contact with your face. you shiver a little as wonwoo readjusts his grip on your face. when hes done, he pats your thigh as a signal to slide off the countertop. you jump down and try to follow him back into the bedroom, but before you leave he passes you your pajamas to get changed into. you reluctantly return back to the bathroom and try to change as carefully as you can. once you get back into the bedroom, wonwoo is in his pajamas, climbing into bed. you jaunt across the room onto your side, and as soon as wonwoo is settled in, you slowly snuggle into his side. he wraps both arms around you, wrapping you in a warm cocoon of blankets and his body. before you drift off, you mumble “love you woo” into his chest. he knows it was the drunk you speaking, but he makes sure to whisper “love you too y/n” into the quiet night.
the last morning waking up in wonwoos arms was no different from any of the other days. you try to savour this time a little bit longer, but he soon starts to stir and slowly gets out of bed. you can tell that he thought you were asleep by how carefully he was moving. when he comes back, youre sitting up in the bed on your phone. he’s taken aback, and begins to apologize for waking you up. you reassure him that you were already awake which calms his nerves. while wonwoo is in the bathroom, you begin packing your stuff back into the suitcase you brought with you. when hes ready, you switch places, now with you in the bathroom and wonwoo packing his stuff. you both decide to hit the road early, so youre not getting home tired late at night.
after saying many goodbyes to your family you're hitting the road again. after some time, wonwoo suddenly chimes in. “um, do you remember anything you said last night when we got back from the reception?” youre taken aback by the question, trying to replay every moment of the night. you shake your head. “but im definitely sorry for whatever it may have been.” you both chuckle, as wonwoo turns it over in his head, trying to decide whether or not to continue on this train of thought. “its just…” hes made his decision. “i was thinking about how people say drunk words are sober thoughts, and your drunk words said some things that i actually agree with.” at this point youve turned fully towards him in your seat, trying to figure out what he was about to say next. he takes a deep breath before continuing. “when we were getting ready for bed you said.. you said you wished that this-” he gestures between the two of you, “-wasnt fake. and ive been turning that over and over in my head because… i feel that way too.” the tips of his ears are bright red, and his grip on the steering wheel has tightened slightly. you watch as he tries to calm himself down enough to continue. you decide to let him finish before speaking. “the last few days has made me feel so happy. being around you makes my days better. you don't have to feel the same, you dont even have to say anything if you don't want to. i just.. i had to say something.” you smile at him as you place your hand lightly on his arm. now, its your turn to speak. “wonwoo, you don't understand how difficult it has been to try not to fall for you in the last week. everything you do makes my heart flutter. ive been dreading the day this whole scheme was over. i do wish this wasnt fake. i want this to be our everyday life wonwoo. i want this to be us.” his hand finds yours as a smile overtakes his face. you hold his hand in yours, not wanting to ever let go. wonwoo glances over at you. “i cant believe that the girl i met at the convenience store is finally my girlfriend after us dating for 6 months.” you laugh, letting your head rest against the car headrest as you let the quiet music from the radio fill the silence.
you should've known this fake relationship would last longer than the week you signed up for.

˗ˋˏ a winter interlude ˎˊ˗
synopsis: maybe this is meant to be an interlude – an unforeseen passing moment in each other’s timelines. but with the stroke of a conductor’s baton, the symphony lands on the fermata hovering above the note. do we allow this interlude to become something longer than a short period in our lives, or do we end it after all of it is over?
pairing: wonwoo x coworker!reader
genre: romance, drama, light angst
tags: children's book illustrator wonwoo, publisher reader, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, food/drinks, work husband jeonghan cameo, small town dynamics, snowed in, scene where reader almost gets physically injured
wc: 11.3k
message from nu: waaaa first fic of the year. special special special thank you to my beloved madi (@heartkyeom) for being my beta reader well after midnight. I also wanna thank mars (@onlymingyus) for being mars c: I remember a while ago I answered an ask with a possible wonwoo work husband spinoff. this is it. this is wonwoo's work husband spinoff. this can be read as a standalone fic. happy winter and happy new year to all of you. I hope you all enjoy this svthub snowventeen collab fic - nu ♡
wondernus's masterlist / snowventeen collab 18+

one
“Don’t forget to wear you layers because it’s about to be chillier as the week passes by. For those trekking into the mountains, make sure you look out for weather updates from the signal tower and stay indoors because a large snowstorm is about to paint the mountains white. Stay safe, and have a great day. Now, onto Yoon Jeonghan with the traffic.”
“‘Trekking?’ What are you? A protein bar wrapper? Anyway, thank you Joshu-"
Never really understanding why other people say they often find themselves turning down the music while driving to see better, you find yourself doing the same – driving in silence as if the silence could create such a frictionless surface that would shoot and propel your car to your destination. A couple of hours late to your annual winter work retreat, a clear understatement defined by the speed at which you are driving, what was supposed to be a carpool event turned into you sitting in a pool of cars while stuck in traffic.
The Sun shines lightly, a gentle kiss against your skin, but not enough to hug everything it touches in warmth. With the heater on high, you sit in your front seat sweating and dreading the moment when you have to get out of your car, thighs peeling off the leather seats and leaving a pool of sweat where you were sitting. Perhaps it is not the Sun and the heater’s heat that causes you to sweat, but a psychological factor – an amalgamation of stress and anxiety that stemmed from the moment you realized you were late.
No longer can you allow yourself to forgive him that easily, yet you really did not want t blame him for giving you incorrect meeting minutes. But when the retreat itinerary clearly stated to meet in the morning at seven in front of the publishing house, you should have known better than to wholly trust your ditzy new intern to attend your office meeting while you traveled out of town to hunt down your author for her overdue speculative fiction novel draft. Instead of writing the correct time to meet, he incorrectly noted the arrival time.
This unprecedented-precedented blip is the catalyst for a series of chain reactions that would metaphorically send you pummeling down the steep side of a mountain in a snowy avalanche that you could have avoided. But you do not know it, nor do you know how it, whatever “it” is, ends.
Dark circles under your eyes and a forgotten paper-thin pimple patch a jolt over a speedbump away from falling off your oily skin, you keep telling yourself that everything will be okay once you get to the camping grounds. Hopefully, this sort of denial could make up for the fact that you spent all of last night kicking your feet under your covers while binge-watching the reality show that your favorite boy group filmed rather than packing for your trip. But there is only so much your heater turned on high can do for someone wearing an old flimsy university tee with a couple of cat teeth-made holes who forgot to put their contacts in last night. You are better off skipping the winter retreat, but you are already nearing the mountains. There is no turning back – especially on winding roads.
And the embarrassment. This feeling of creeping anxiety seemingly washed away the moment it stepped foot into your head even though you are utterly unprepared and inappropriate for being late to the paid work retreat. Because this sudden realization hits you mid-drive: the only person who you would be embarrassed to meet in your current situation is excused for the retreat. Reasons unknown. And not that you would let any man define you, but at your core, you are simply a person with an embarrassingly big fat crush on your co-worker (and seemingly everybody else you work with). This crush is so bad that if HR made every team create their own set of photocards, you would put his in a protective cover with tiny holographic hearts, and then in a sturdy toploader decorated with overpriced stickers. One glance at him would put you in a trance, daydreaming about what it would be like to wake up in his arms on a sunny day with birds chirping outside your window, and him with a soft smile on his face.
Except for one thing – he hates your guts, so you decided to hate his too.

They always say “try, try again,” but how many tries would it take before the attempts turn Sisyphean? Sure, Hades enchanted Sisyphus’s boulder so that it would roll away before Sisyphus reached the top, but what about you? Car tires struggling against the icy roads, you drive carefully so your car does not turn into a giant hockey puck or a curling stone on (what is essentially) a giant ice rink. But being careful does not help the fact that you are unprepared. And being unprepared means your car has absolutely no way for you to drive over any sized slopes, no matter how many times you try.
You only realize any further attempt of going over the slope or taking any other route is fruitless when your tires spin in place after digging themselves well enough into the road. And you slump against your steering wheel like an exasperated character in a movie – pounding your head against 12 o’clock a few times for good measure. So much for a fifteen-minute-saving de-tour through a small town you have never seen before. And so much for you trying to drive over a slope you could easily walk over. Trying sucks.
Still, the only thing that keeps you from abandoning your hand-me-down car to trek forty-five minutes to the campsite is the fact that it is freezing outside, and your cellphone Wi-Fi gets especially spotty when you are in areas of high altitudes. With one final sigh, you push yourself away from your steering wheel to sit upright, leaning the back of your head against your headrest. There is not much to do except to put your car in neutral and try to push your car out of the little hole it dug itself in.
The thing is, the texture of real snow is a lot different from the snow that giant portable snow machines shoot out of their gigantic cylindrical nozzles to cover the courtyard in front of the city hall whenever the local city has its annual winter festival. Real snow is also incomparable to the “snow” a child creates along the perimeter of an ice skating rink, hands holding onto the rails for support while they repeatedly scrape the inside of one of their blades towards the inside of their other shoe, creating soft ribbons of shaved ice before the navy blue Zamboni can create a clean slate before private lessons start.
Real snow is relentless toward anybody who does not come prepared to interact with it. So, no matter how much you try to dig and twist your sneaker sole into the snow, that tactile grip that you wish to create that supports your feet while you are pushing against the back of your car can seldom be created. You slump against your car’s bumper in defeat. The Sun still shining on your skin, a little bit stronger now, leaves you with the same warmth you felt against your skin, a bit tingly and upsetting, when you knew your skin would still burn no matter how nice the cordiality of the Sun felt on that one Spring day in the past.
Plus, there is a little more time to observe your surroundings when you have given up completely.
In the grassy median strip that denotes the entrance into the small town is a wooden welcome sign with the name in loopy golden lettering against a beautiful pine green: “Welcome to Interlude.” A few feet ahead of you, the mountainous road marries smooth concrete, and the sidewalks pave in a festival town-esque brick lining. And you conclude you must be on the outskirts of the town. Leftover snow fills the grooves between each brick and covers the dark-colored awnings in front of each shop along the town strip. Where flashy LED shop signs and brightly colored bulbs decorate sidewalk trees drawing visitors in from around the world, is surprisingly a lack of people. And you frown while thinking about how you would be able to push your car to the side of the road if another vehicle wants to enter the town.
Not a few moments later, a navy blue truck slowly climbs up the road, and you feel the littlest bit of hope surge into your body. Forcing yourself to stand up, you move out of the way and wave at the incoming car. But as your day could not have gotten any more unfortunate, your car starts rolling backwards towards the pickup truck. And you cannot help but see your entire life flash in front of you – a person dressed too lightly for the snow and the used car passing by like a celebrity on a parade float, all in a moment.
What is scarier than the fact that your car is now bumper-less and the pickup truck remains unscathed is the man who hops out of his truck. Looking like a snow-stage boss from a video game, the man who is large and menacingly looking enough to make his shiny dark green car look like a minivan next to him stalks over to you with his finger pointed directly at your face. The only thing missing from the scene is the army of ice ogres that are supposed to follow closely behind him.
However, the only thing you can register is the fact that he is yelling at you – face glowing bright red and spit flying out of his mouth. Your body is frozen in fear. There is a lack of capacity for you to be able to stand up for yourself while you are shocked and unable to recognize your surroundings while terrible words spill out of the man's mouth. And you cannot do anything except take in his expletives while teardrops well up, ready to spill out of your tear ducts.
But they do not. A figure puts himself between the man and you, and your view is too obstructed to see the other side.
“I called the insurance company. Give me your information and I’ll handle it,” the mysterious person says.
“And who are you?” You hear from the other side.
“I’m their husband.” He fishes for his wallet in his back pocket and takes out a business card, handing it to the man between two fingers. “Call me. Email me. Your choice. I’ll get it sorted. Sorry about the whole thing, I didn’t have time to drive my partner. Bad husband right?... So, I heard you’re the new fishing shop owner? I’ll drop by sometime.” He tries to switch subjects to lessen the tension while slipping his wallet back into his pocket.
The thing is, it works. The presence of the man who uses his body to shield you calms the angry pickup truck driver almost exponentially. And the man who yelled at you seemed to forget he was yelling at you just because he realized your marital status. The man calms down, and even falters in his speech.
“Ahh…I’m not a fishing shop owner. I guess it’s fine now that you’re here, but you know men. There aren’t bad husbands, only ba-”
“I’ll be at Town Hall if you need more information from me.” The man who calls himself your husband purposely and curtly cuts the other man off, knowing very well that he would be even more upset if he heard the man finish his sentence.
The man does not turn back to address you until he is done taking photos of both cars and waving the other man goodbye. And your piece of junk car stays in the same spot, bumper-less and bruised, while the pickup truck, clearly without any injury, smoothly makes its way into Interlude, disappearing from your sight.
“You’re just going to dumbly let that man say those things to you? About you? Do you have no respect for yourself?” He lectures you, his deep voice muffled by the black wool scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth.
You see him clearly this time, how his black locks fall in front of his face in neat curtain bangs, set in a defined “C” shape. The oversized fleece-lined collar jacket falls to the middle of his thighs, leaving little room for his cream-colored sweater to peep into view. And his stance, focusing his weight on his right heel while his left foot slightly protrudes forward, allows him to tap his foot against the snow while he waits for you to answer him.
But what is shocking to you is not the code-switching he uses when speaking to the driver versus when speaking to you. What is shocking, you realize, are the thin silver-framed glasses that sit on the bridge of the man’s nose and the familiar deep woody scent that clings onto him, touched with a hint of peach.
It couldn’t be.
A cold chill leaves your tongue dry and squeezes your stomach.
“Are you dumb? Did you not hear about the snowstorm coming?” He asks you, a voice without concern, all while pulling out his phone from one of his pockets.
He tugs his manicured thumbs out of his gloves to wake his phone and proceeds to reveal his face from under his scarf to unlock his phone. After a few loud keyboard taps, you hear your phone’s notification sound from your car. But all you can do is stare back at the man, stomach gurgling and queasy.
“Yn,” your co-worker sighs, clearly annoyed by your lack of response. “Why are you here?”

two
A backpack-wearing piglet who happily crosses the street. A fashionably dressed lumpy toad who rows across the pond in a wooden paddle boat. A shrew who picnics with a chipmunk in a grassy city park. Tiny children who sit between each of a stegosaurus’s scutes. An angry and scruffy-looking Siamese cat who wears a cone too big for it to see. The backside of each illustration states:
Jeon Wonwoo ILLUSTRATOR Same Dream Publishing House Work Email | Work Number | Personal Website
Nicely squared recycled textured card stock printed with soy ink, Jeon Wonwoo’s business cards can very well double as collector cards. And the owner of these cards himself, in your eyes, is the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. No fantasy writer, no Renaissance artist could ever truly depict how you see this man. Yet it makes you feel terrible, so entirely rotten on the inside, knowing that he would rather crawl up several flights of stairs made of tiny plastic building blocks than take a fifteen-second elevator ride with you.
If you could pinpoint the exact day Jeon Wonwoo started hating you, it would be the Monday after coming back from a previous work trip to the vacation home of a poet the two of you were assigned. The two of you were amicable with each other, even more so – close friends. A power couple in the children’s books and short stories field – a force to be reckoned with. And the hotel rooms adjacent to each other where the two of you decided to sit on opposite sides of your shared door and talk to each other with both your backs against the door. You remember the sound of his hair brushing against the wood and his soft chuckle when you accidentally bump your head against the door. The goodbye after the trip lingered for a little too long while the first hello back never came. And you can only watch from the back of the crowd during meet and greets and panels, sometimes only catching the tip of his tiny flyaway from far away.
It would hurt your feelings a lot less if he turned away whenever you walked near him, but he chooses to frown instead. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make you like him any less. But you do not know what you are holding onto (or if there is anything to hold onto at this point).
Even now, there is a blatant emotional and physical distance between the two of you. He briskly walks at least a meter in front of you, never turning his head back to see if he left you behind or if you were following closely behind.
The thick uncomfortable shoulder strap keeps slipping from your shoulder, unable to find any traction against the smooth nylon of the puffer you put on earlier. And it is just a walk, a measly ten-minute walk to the police station where you can report the accident, but it is hard to walk while looking ahead when you are so close to crying. No matter how much you try to adjust your shoulder strap so it doesn’t stop falling, it finds a way to slip from your sore shoulder or frozen grip. Overwhelming emotions usurp any will to continue onwards and leave you feeling so annoyed, so dejected, and so frustrated with everything that happened today. And when your bag’s strap slips again, you let it slip from your shoulder, sending your entire duffle bag crumpling against the wet and icy brick pavement.
And so you crumple with it, sinking to your knees and wallowing in your unhappiness.
The winter boots that clop in front of you never stop. Jeon Wonwoo would never stop for you, never walk backwards to pick up your heavy duffle and offer you a hand. So it wracks your head trying to understand why he would help you out in the first place, leaving you in the snow once everything was settled, and threatening an IOU coupon for the future. Why he would be in this town in the first place.
The shop window lights of the tiny electronics store to the side of you flicker on. On display and pressed flat against the glass are a bunch of old television sets stacked on top of each other, creating a large screen if not separated by the thick plastic television frames. Golden tempera paint in a modern Serif font exhibits the store’s logo across the glass: “Stay For A While,” in a wide downward pointing arc.
Every single television screen livestreams the local news. According to the subtitles, a giant snowstorm is about to hit the local area. Residents are advised to seek shelter and stay home. The sunny weather is only a farce.
But you don’t notice the news. To you, the only thing in front of you is a lachrymose shadow of a blob trapped in a foreign town with nowhere to go. And your heart follows closely behind the man as if dragged by him on a leash – blindly bouncing, cobbling, and getting scratched by the various pebbles and dirt on the pavement.
The man never looks behind to check on the organ. He doesn’t even know it’s there.

“What do you mean you’re cat sitting? Jeonghan, you never volunteer to do things willingly…Oh, for the friends who are high school teachers? Then road trip with their cat and save your cousin who is stranded in the mountains.” You adjust your grip on your phone while mindlessly browsing through the several knickknacks for sale in the souvenir shop in the town’s only lodge.
Passing the wall of graphic tees and sweaters and passing through a shelf of souvenir mugs, you stop at a shelf of tiny woodcarvings. Your eye lands on a figurine of a whittled cat, hand-painted orange with a white belly. On the other end of your phone call, your cousin complains about the weather, but you don’t listen – clearly too entranced by the tiny cat.
“Of course I listened to the radio this morning,” you mutter while running the tip of your pointer finger against the cat’s ear, feeling the smooth sanded wood under your touch. “Okay, you got me. It was for background noise. Look, I’m not asking you to pick me up today. I somehow ended up booking a room after finding out cab services are down today. But if you’re not going to pick me up then I’m going to hang up and solve this myself. But if you don’t hear from me in three days, then call a search party. Okay?”
Except he hangs up before you can say goodbye, grumbling about how you never listen to him. Still, you’re unbothered by his action. The tiny cat, now in the palm of your hand, looks so content with life, unbothered by what goes on around it. Your mind wonders about its artist, how long they must have spent carving the cat from a single block of wood, the hours it must have taken to create something so tiny yet so fulfilling to own. And you wonder about the artist’s emotions, if they ever felt sadness after parting with their cat. If the cat was the artist’s friend, even for the brief moment, that juncture, in their individual timelines.
It would be best if you left the cat on the shelf, you think. Just in case the artist ever changes their mind about selling the cat. And the cat looks happier sitting on the shelf with its other animal friends, happier than what its painted lazy smile suggests.
And for the first time today, you feel a tiny bit of happiness – a halcyon moment surrounded by forest-themed trinkets and flashing keychains with generic names and soft 2010s pop music playing from the store speakers. That is until you see a familiar figure being escorted to the lobby of the lodge. Curiosity causes you to leave your spot in the souvenir store, edging closer to the creation of a new scene.
“I have a room.” You hear him try to reason with the security guard. “It’s not called loitering if I am a guest.”
You can’t hear the security guard, but it seems like Wonwoo’s bluntness is not a strong enough source of logos for the guard. And the guard stands in front of the illustrator, fully unconvinced that the man wearing a suit and holding his work briefcase would be any other out-of-town guest. And one look of pure panic on Jeon Wonwoo’s stupidly handsome-looking face sends you on autopilot, making your way to his side for no good reason.
“Babe.” You lie through your forced smile while looping your arm around his right arm. “Where were you?”
His arm jerks in the tiniest bit before it relaxes as if he hesitated for a moment before making his decision. Of course, another explanation could simply be because he experienced a negative bodily reaction to your mere presence. Flabbergasted, he would mutter. The nadir of today’s excitement. And you would hate him even more for using vocabulary without incorporating any malapropisms. He is as pretentious as the outfit he wears.
“Baby,” he grits through his teeth. “This gentleman seems to think I’m stalking the halls like some animal out to hunt its prey.”
“Sorry, Sir.” You pout at the security guard, hoping your natural pathos could appeal to the man. “My husband has a tendency to walk around whenever he’s bored. It’s been a while since we went on vacation, and he clearly has too many thoughts in his head. You see his outfit? It’s a bad habit.”
The security guard strokes his chin and nods, eying Wonwoo’s ineffable outfit. He wonders why the man in front of him would pack a business suit for a vacation in the mountains, but he doesn’t want to be the one too quick to judge. Rather, he agrees with the fact that the suit actually fits the man very well. If the man wasn’t stalking the hallways just a few moments ago, he would’ve asked him about which tailor he sees. “If he’s so bored, why don’t the two of you join couples night tonight? Winners get a free bedroom upgrade. And between you and me, I heard there’s a famous author who’s staying with us,” he whispers the last portion, a quick cheeky wink.

You don’t realize that you are still grabbing onto his arm until you dragged him into your room. And he shrugs you off, taking the extra step to smooth out his suit fabric while looking through your vanity mirror before turning to you.
“You have the grip of a snapping turtle,” he scoffs while looking around your room.
It is a standard room with a single queen-sized bed at the center of the room. If it were not for the carpeted floors, the entire room would look like a wooden box from its Western Red Cedar planks that make up the four walls to the wooden paneling that covers the ceiling, giant circular wooden beams that keep the ceiling steady by design. The rooms in this lodge are a termite’s dream feast and an art deco enthusiast’s nightmare. Even the bedframe is made of logs, cylindrical in every piece, and the bedsheets are of deep burgundy red bordered with silhouettes of black bears as if it came straight from the video game your cousin was so obsessed with a few Summers ago.
What catches his eye is not the fact that your duffle bag is thrown across your bed, nor the fact that the lamps in your rooms may as well be oil lamps. Rather, he stares at the door to the right of your mounted television, the divider between your room and your neighbor’s. And you can’t help but wonder what is going on in that head of his.
“You are insufferable, you know that?”
“How long did it take for you to think of that comeback?” His attention is drawn away from the door and aimed toward you. “Just because I compared you to a turtle didn’t mean you had to act like one.”
Your jaw drops and becomes your turn to scoff at him, loudly. You cannot believe what you are hearing, and your breathing becomes shallower as you glare at him. “Are you kidding me? Me helping you literally saved you from being pathetically kicked out by the security guard. You should be happy I didn’t record it and post it online.”
“Like you would have enough followers for it to go viral,” he sneers while taking a step toward you. “And I never asked you for help.”
“Loitering in the hallways? Wearing a business suit when you’re supposed to be at the retreat?” Now there is almost no space between the two of you. And you reach over to his chest, grabbing the plastic nametag that dangles from his neck, and holding it up to his face. The item feels as cold as the person who wears it. “Wearing your work badge? Fine, I’ll admit I have no idea why you’re here. But if you thought that walking around and waiting for some author to come out of their room and have some preplanned accidental meet cute could work, then you’re so wrong. And I’m not going to let you defame our company just because you have no social skills whatsoever.” You let go of the item you’re holding, letting it drop against his chest.
“Okay, I’ll be the bigger man and admit that I was waiting for the author my team wants to work with to show up. But talking about defaming the company? You want me to care about what you say when all of that was coming from someone who would rather let some random man verbally degrade their worth than to stand up for themselves? You’re all bite and no tongue. Just like a snapping turtle,” he says, his face entirely without emotion.
“SNAPPING TURTLES HAVE TONGUES. DUMBASS,” you snap at him.
“That’s exactly what a snapping turtle would say,” he challenges you.
The thing is, Jeon Wonwoo likes to keep things short even though he is not as quick-tempered as you are. He prefers to relay everything he wants to say at once, saving anybody from asking for clarification. Yet, you can feel that Wonwoo only seeks to maim you with his words. Even at your most imperturbable composure with your intern, you cannot stand being alone in a room with Wonwoo once he starts opening his mouth to speak. And stupidly and repeatedly you let his elementary quips affect you like rubbing salt on an open wound. The laceration in your heart.
“You’re so rude Jeon Wonwoo. No wonder I hate you more and more every single day. You’re the single-most worst person in the entire world, and I hate how I once considered us friends.”
He looks like he has something to say to you but mentally drops the notion. Instead, he sighs and makes his way to the door beside your television, unlocking the knob and opening the door. He doesn’t make some offhanded comment about being your neighbor and only quietly closes the door behind him, making sure it’s locked with a tiny click.

three
It is a tiny office breakroom, the kind with a beige refrigerator whose motor is a little too loud, a low-watt microwave, and light green walls decorated with random pen marks from the lodge workers signing up for holiday potlucks. The late afternoon sunlight shines in an ethereal orange glow through the window, casting what could be the day’s last warm ray across the round wooden table in the middle of the room. Central heating runs throughout the building, and the lodge manager sits in the hot seat, his hands folded in front of him while he stares at you and your “husband.”
“Darling?” A nice elderly receptionist on break holds up a bag of mini marshmallows, the tri-colored kinds you can only find in baking stores, and points to it with her manicured finger. “Marshmallow?” she asks you from her place near the kitchen cabinets.
“No thank you,” you reply, your hands wrapped around a warm disposable cup filled with generic brand instant hot chocolate. Gratis, courtesy of the elderly receptionist before the manager arrived to talk to the two of you.
You bring the sugary drink to your lips, blowing softly and watching the steam disappear into the air. The drink itself, velvet chocolate that coats your tongue, is a warm invitation to this little town in the middle of nowhere. However, you cannot help but feel the only thing – or person – that unwelcomes you is the man who tries to angle his body away from you and the manager if the two of you ever cause trouble for your neighbors. Again.
“Look, we’re not going to kick you out. It would be inhumane to kick someone out during a snowstorm. And also we’re all kinda snowed in…actually, we’re super snowed in so nobody is coming in or out at this point. Funny how it was sunny earlier, right? Anyway, word has it that the two of you are married. So why don’t you two take some time to work things out, yeah? I’m no relationship counselor, but this is a small lodge in a small town so word gets out fast. So, seeing how far the two of you are sitting apart from each other, maybe channel that pent up anger into some competitive spirit during couple’s night because we can’t have you two being loud and arguing elsewhere. And I hate to be the bad guy here, but no more calls from your neighbors complaining about the two of you arguing or else we will contact authorities. Alright? Just keep it down and work it out, would ya?”
The manager’s lengthy spiel is immediately followed by silence, although not awkward, but one that provokes thought. And when you sense Wonwoo, being the smartass he is, open his mouth to counter his marriage status, and you immediately kick him in the shin with the heel of your tennis shoe. And he folds like his latest pop-up book, glaring at you while trying not to wheeze in pain. A fake smile and a solemn pledge to not bother the other patrons for the rest of the night are enough for the two of you to be excused from the conversation with the manager.
But not from each other.

How you ended up blindfolded and dizzy with a bat in your hands while Wonwoo angrily yells at you from the sidelines is beyond you. For the time being is what the two of you agreed with, albeit this one is far from Ruth Ozeki’s version. It’s a small promise to try to prove the two of you are more than amicable: attend a few games and activities together with the other couples, attempt to act like a married couple, and dip after an hour.
After twelve elephant spins with your forehead against the baseball bat, you and the other blindfolded contestants try to cross to the other side of the banquet hall in order to smash one of the many squashes on the large blue-colored plastic tarp laid across the floor. And Wonwoo, along with the other separated pairs, barks into the open air in the direction he wants you to move.
The funny thing is, you would expect to hear him call your actual name out of all of the pet names being thrown around, but Wonwoo cannot yell for the life of him, so much to shout your name in public. So even though you hear a bunch of people getting confused with the various forms of “honey” and “baby” being called out, you struggle to find his voice amidst the cacophony of shouts. Once the physical dizziness from spinning around evaporated, you feel a new kind of dizziness from being agitated as an aftereffect of trying to find Wonwoo’s voice in the middle of the crowd. By the time you decide on giving up, the shrill sound of a whistle signaling the end of the game fills the air. Shrugging the blindfold off your face, you look around to see the aftermath. While the other pairs are on the other side of the room surrounded by broken pieces of squash, there is only one man standing in front of you alone and separated from the others.
Your breathing hitches when you realize he’s walking towards you – long, even strides like the romantic lead in a movie. By the time he places himself in front of you, your baseball bat is in his hand while your cheek is in his other.
“It was hard, wasn’t it?” he whispers while looking into your eye.
Except you can’t help but train your eyes elsewhere, unable to look him in his eyes while it feels like your heart is beating erratically. And even though you know very well how he is faking everything, you can’t help but regress to the same you, the same you who is so helplessly in love with the man you hate. The same you who spends every day wondering how did the two of you end up that way.
“You only took the bat from me because you’re scared I might whack you with it. And not going to lie, I was contemplating it,” you mumble.
“It’s okay babe.” He tries to cheer you up, a slight undertone of insincerity in his voice. He continues to ignore your statement. “You did your best. Snapping turtles are slow, but they still manage to survive.”
Ignoring the fact that Wonwoo’s hand is warm because he has warm packs in each of his loungewear jacket pockets (and the fact that he refused to share one with you), someone catches your eye in the distance. Where workers are cleaning up the aftermath of the squash game, a familiar-looking man stands to the side where some lodge patrons flock around him with rectangular objects in their hands. Once you see him turn his head your way, your entire body freezes – Wonwoo’s touch suddenly begins to feel cold against your skin. And Wonwoo, who was expecting you to get mad at him for calling you a turtle, can’t help but notice your state of panic. And he not so subtly turns around to see who could be causing you so much fear.
“Oh my,” he mutters, coming to his realization.
“I can’t believe –” you begin before Wonwoo interrupts your train of thought.
“I hope he rots in hell before he can get his next book deal,” he almost spits at the man from several feet away. He drops his hand from your cheek and takes a tiny step back before taking a deep breath as if he is about to ask you something that he would regret, “Do you mind staying a little longer? I want to make sure chauvinists never win book upgrades.”
“Room upgrade,” you correct him while glaring at the other man from afar.
“What?”
“You misspoke.” You guide your attention back to the man who is, for what you think is the first time, looking at you attentively and without malice. And the fact that he is looking at you amicably makes your brain go haywire, but you subdue your thoughts and continue the conversation. “It’s the ‘room’ upgrade that we’re trying to stop him from winning.”
“Book upgrade or room upgrade, it’s the same thing.” He frowns while tapping the end of the bat against the ground. “It turns out your pickup truck man is the author my team is after. But I’d rather be jobless than to work with someone like him.”
So he works with you, absolutely demolishing the competition during the Dinner and Paint section and loudly cheering for you while you stacked plastic cups. And the way he smiles at you, lovingly and with the glimmer reflected from the ceiling lights contrasted against the cocky attitude he surrounds himself with when one of you wins a game – it almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to hate him. How easily he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against his embrace so much that his cologne lingers on your clothes, leaves you feeling hopeless. Because the only time Jeon Wonwoo could ever approach you without visibly withering in repulsion is when he acts like he is in love with you.
Outside the cozy lodge, the Sun sets its rays on the heavy layers of snow. While the Earth turns to face the other way, the rays wash the pillowy white crystals in a warm and deep burgundy orange – a warm embrace, a promise to return, before parting for the night. As you clean Wonwoo’s smudged glasses with the hem of your shirt, he sneaks his right arm around your waist while he leans further into his seat as the Couple’s Night host announces the next game. You feel something warm enter the pocket of your jacket and look down to see Wonwoo’s hand back on your waist. The untouched hand warmer gradually feels hotter in your pocket when you gently place your fake husband’s glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He whispers a small “thank you,” and you can only smile back at him with a heaviness in your heart that only you can carry.
The hand warmer feels like it would burn through your clothes at any second.

four
“Team Snowball, what did your partner answer for the question: ‘What is your partner picky about eating?’” The emcee points at the woman sitting next to you who gladly flips her sketchbook around for the other half of the room to see. She squints her eyes, trying to read the woman’s squiggly writing, and smiles when she realizes it’s a match. “Soft grapes? It’s a match. Point to Team Snowball.”
Despite everything going around you, you can’t help but fidget in your seat, the sketchbook’s pages starting to feel damp in your sweaty palms. Wonwoo sits with the separated pairs across from you. He crosses his legs, and his sketchbook lays comfortably across his lap so he can twirl his black marker in his hand. Even when you know you wrote the correct answer to Wonwoo’s food preferences, the two of you are still several points behind the other teams. Your stomach cannot help but feel queasy every time you embarrassingly flip your sketchbook for others to see. Because every single wrong answer about your “husband” whom you love very much feels like a punch in your gut every time you hear snickers from the others around you.
Seafood is your answer; you’re the last to answer this round’s question. You earn a small cheer from the woman reading your answer and a small smile from Wonwoo. He sneaks you a tiny thumbs up, the tip of his thumb poking out of his sweater.
“Next question,” dictates the emcee. “When did you know they were the one?”
It’s an abstract question – one that doesn’t necessarily need matching answers from both sides. Still, you look across to look at Wonwoo, uncertain whether or not he would put much thought into an answer he would have to pull out of thin air. Uncapping his marker with his mouth, he pulls the sketchbook closer to him to scribble down whatever comes to his mind. The action leaves your mouth feeling dry: one, obviously, because he uncapped the marker with his mouth; and two, he was the first to start writing.
Some answers are simple. Some answers are meaningful. Some answers are like yours – “love at first sight.”
Corny, overused, and unusual, your answer is the safest route you knew you could take. And despite how clichéd your answer is – its timelessness, its Hallmark-ability – still garners a series of awws from everybody around you. Technically, there is some truth to your answer. You developed a tiny crush the first time you saw him at the office. Who wouldn’t? He surrounds himself with illustrations of anthropomorphic animals and has a laugh that bellows and fills any room with joy. He made your days brighter by simply existing.
Now, the brightness struggles to navigate its way through the thick fog. And you’re left alone in the cold, the fog’s misty droplets clinging onto your skin.
It’s weird how in this life, time moves linearly, but moments and experiences with others exist in intervals – interludes that we can relive over and over again through memories. Sometimes we experience interludes of happiness, interludes of pain, and interludes where it only seems like there are only two people in this world. But nobody can determine how long these interludes can last and for how long you can try to hold on to these moments before letting go.
“Let’s see if Team Turtle can earn a point. Please show us your answer.”
“I’m kind of embarrassed,” he softly chuckles, voice more sonorous than ever, while standing his sketchbook on his knee.
9 pm is his answer. You, and the rest of the people sitting beside you, cannot help but gaze at his answer in confusion.
It is only when he sees you staring at him he finally clarifies, “When we were sitting in my car eating donuts while the waves crash on the shores in front of us. You smiled at me with pieces of maple donut glaze stuck to your upper lip.”
You. He speaks in the second person and looks directly at you with a soft gaze. It couldn’t be, you think. But it is true, you recognize his diction as true. He’s speaking to you.
And you remember that shared moment in the front seats of his car, the night of the work trip. The donuts were for the poet, but the two of you had the door slammed in your faces before being able to hold a full conversation with the poet. And after an entire day of confusion and apologies, the two of you were finally able to fulfill your portions for the work trip. Who knew that the tiny suggestion of walking along the pier after dinner would turn out disastrous – frigid ocean winds strong enough to blow people away? The clothes the two of you packed were not meant to sustain harsh winds but harsh sunlight – after all, the work trip’s destination is a beach town. So the two of you sat in his car, eating donuts, people-watching, and sharing anecdotes to get to know each other better. It was the type of conversation that you would do anything to prolong its duration, the type of conversation with the right type of person.
“You were so happy,” he finishes.
You were so happy, it echoes in your head.
Are you happy now?
“How about you?” The emcee turns to you for clarification. “Your partner gave us such a beautiful explanation. So, you have to explain your ‘love at first sight.’ Tell us about it.”
“Ohh,” Wonwoo begins awkwardly while giving an equally awkward chuckle. “You don’t have to if you do-”
“I was having a really bad morning.” You smile into your lap and look up at your supposed husband. You don’t know why or how the full day with unease bubbling inside of you dispersed so quickly after Wonwoo’s particular answer. But you launch into your story, letting the words flow out of your mouth like melted snow on a grassy hill under the bright Sun. “A really bad morning. I ended up working overtime and accidentally missed my morning alarm. I had to chase the bus while my hot coffee poured out of its opening and onto my skin. My entire day at the office was a mess because I kept messing up. I felt awful and exhausted. So I worked overtime for the second day in a row to clean up my errors. Someone places hot green tea in front of me, the free ones at the office. There is a doodle of a stingray with the dumbest-looking smile on its face. It looked so pathetic that it made me feel a little better about myself. He says that he accidentally boiled too much hot water and thought to make a cup for me. And then he holds his own up in front of his face. There’s a picture of a cat wearing glasses. ‘You can do it,’ he tells me in a squeaky voice. And he leaves. We don’t meet again for about a month, but his kind gesture pieced me back together. And I held onto his kindness for days.”
He stares at you, a few strands of his hair out of place and in front of his eyes. He doesn’t care to move them back in place. There’s that smile on his face, the exact one you imagined to be on his face that time he sat on the other side of your shared door. Soft coral lips relaxed, but the cupid’s bow is slightly perked as the corners of the lips turn upward. He tries to hide the fact that he is smiling, keeping his happiness hidden and only to himself.
So you smile at him. An honest, genuine smile where the cheeks kiss the lower lashes. And his lips stretch thinly so that his brilliant white teeth shyly make their way into the open. He smiles back at you.
Musicians know that an interlude, in music, is an interrupting or intervening passage that connects different parts of a song. An interlude can also be a song in an album. In other words, there are different ways for musical interludes as well as temporal interludes to exist. Now, there is a new interlude in your timeline, this shared moment where two timelines from two completely different lives collide and converge. Anybody can tell that this shared moment is filled with happiness and understanding…perhaps, even longing.
But what do you call it when these two timelines have converged in the past? If two timelines that once converged reconverge at a further point on the timeline, did that initial interlude ever truly end? Are interludes simply short periods in our lives if these interludes stay in our timelines forever, even when the moments they denote end?
Nevertheless, at this moment, you know you’re happy. And you can only hope the man who sits across from you, the one who looks at you with a reminiscent expression you once experienced so long ago, is feeling the same way.

“Okay. We’re in third place. If we win this one, then we’ll be a point ahead of them.”
“I tied it pretty tightly. Is the tightness okay with you?” Wonwoo frowns from below you, seemingly exploring a different problem at hand. He inspects the rope he tied around your leg, poking and prodding at different sections. “It’s a three-legged race, but I don’t want you getting hurt from an accidental rope burn because I tied it too tightly.”
“Wonwoo, it’s fine.” You pat his left shoulder, letting him know he doesn’t have to worry.
He grabs your stretched hand, and you help hoist him upwards. But there is an apparent frown on his face.
“Why do you still call me Wonwoo,” he mumbles while wrapping your arm around his back and on his waist. There is a tiny pout on his face pointed downwards as he naturally loops his arm around your shoulders like he had done it a thousand times. “Are you not comfortable with calling me ‘babe?’ Any other name also works.”
Deep down, or not even deep down, you know he is right. You are uncomfortable with the idea of casually calling him by these pet names over and over again. Calling him by fake pet names, not counting the many idealistic scenarios that once played in your head, in this case, feels very wrong. His sudden change in attitude towards you as well as his overall demeanor after the last game left you in shock. A plot twist in a season finale would be less shocking than what you feel at this very moment. Like every other hypothetical person in your situation, you choose to ignore your problems by focusing on your other problems at hand. Because you know very well, allowing yourself to fully play into this fake husband rouse, even in times when you’re truly happy, would only hurt you in the end. And you’ve been hurt by him before, not really sure if you ever fully healed.
But you can’t deny he looks and seems nothing like the literal he-devil he was this morning. In fact, he seems to be the opposite. Even without being physically tied to you, he trails behind you like a lost puppy and clings onto your sleeve like a cat who kneads dough on your arm, nails hooked onto the fabric of your clothing. And you let him hold you close to him so much that he leans his chin on your shoulder while listening to others talk. And you let his hair tickle your scalp and would let him melt into you if he asked.
Getting hurt by the same man twice does not make a right. Succinctly, it only makes you dumb. So, to protect yourself, you use the image of the screaming man from the morning to remind yourself that everything is a rouse no matter how much you enjoy each moment with the illustrator.
The three-legged race’s course starts in the banquet hall, passes through the hallway and into the lobby, takes several twists and turns throughout the sitting area, and finishes in the banquet hall. Wonwoo takes the lead, firmly holding you against him while he chants “in, out, in, out” to direct how the two of you should speed-walk. But the excitement of the games and the promise of the upgraded room must have gone over the heads of several of the teams, causing each team to speed walk into a sprint once they left the banquet hall.
Wonwoo and you are also victims of wanting to win, or at least of wanting to beat the author. But in this incredibly small lodge, there are only so many paces you can take before having to try to squeeze past another team. And Wonwoo practically hoists you onto his foot without notice, penguin-walking you to make it past another team to navigate through the sectioned seating area.
Startled by his sudden lack of communication, you demand he set you down. “Let me go,” you grunt after being jostled against one of the round wooden tables. You are absolutely sure your hip would bruise in the morning if he bumped you into one more object. “It’d be easier if one of us walks ahead of the other.”
Does it look like I care?” His ego slips from his tongue, completely coating the sweet words that came out of his mouth before the game started. His sudden change in tone catches you by surprise. “I’ll buy a sled from the gift shop if it means I get to drag you instead of hauling you around.”
“It’s just a game.” You try to push yourself off of him, annoyed that he’s suddenly being uncooperative with you. In the meantime, the team behind the two of you catches up and pulls ahead. “Let me go before one of us gets hurt.”
Wonwoo’s eyes aren’t trained on you. Instead, he stretches his head to look at the few teams in front of the two of you. Surprisingly, the two of you make it out of the seating area without any trouble. Before the two of you can make a sprint back toward the banquet hall, you pull yourself away from Wonwoo, yanking his arm off of your shoulder.
“Babe, come on.” He holds out his hand for you to grab onto. “We’re going to end up being last.”
But your hand never reaches out to meet his.
“Babe? Are you serious? Are you kidding me? Are you really calling me ‘babe’ right now?” You almost shriek at him if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you are standing in proximity to the reception desk. But you are exasperated, your voice wobbles as you voice what is bothering you. “I’ve had it with you, Wonwoo. I tried communicating with you. I tried voicing my fears. But your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t even think about the safety of the person right beside you. Am I sad and mad about what happened this morning? Yeah, I still am. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, but nobody deserves to be ignored. I don’t care about winning anymore. I feel humiliated, utterly and devastatingly humiliated by you and by myself. To think I let myself have fun around you. To think I believed for a second that you truly did care about me. At one point, I thought we were friends. At one point, I really did like you for who you were. But I guess I can’t expect people to stay the same, can I?” More words and sentences pour out of your mouth – like a small tornado that grows larger in size after picking up all of the things you left unsaid, the words that threatened to slip from your tongue all picked up and twirled into the tornado, you ended up saying more than what you meant to say.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” he begins, but he can only hopelessly stare at you squatting in place to untie the rope that binds the two of you.
“There.” You bitterly drop the rope in his free hand. “You’re free from me now. You can go back to hating me all you want.”
“But I don’t hate you.”
“I’m done, Wonwoo. I’m done with being confused so I’m just going to give up and wallow in my room until Jeonghan picks me up once the snow clears.”

five
“No offense, but I would never spend that much time or energy on a guy…especially a guy who treats you like that. He even stopped pounding on your front door so that obviously means that he’s the type to stop trying after a while,” your cousin rants from the other side of your phone screen. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose while the cat he is looking after purrs contently on his lap. “So what are you? A masochist? You like men who treat you poorly and then reward you with like an hour of happiness? That’s literally like if professors gave you the hardest final you’ve ever taken in your life and told you to grab a free cookie after you turned in the final. What are you even holding onto at this point?”
“I don’t know,” you wail at the older man, crumpling your used tissue in the palm of your hand. It quickly joins the growing pile of snot-riddled balls of tissue at the edge of your bed. When you recline into your initial position, the shifted blanket knocks Wonwoo’s hand warmer onto the floor.
“Eww stop holding your phone so close to your face,” Jeonghan complains, “Vernon says I kinda look like you, and I can’t help imagining that’s how I look when I cry.”
“I don’t know why I still like him,” you mumble to your cousin. You honestly still don’t understand why you like him despite every single recent negative encounter with him. To be honest, your heart doesn’t flutter as it does with the characters in the novels you read. Nothing cliched happens when you see him, like how the world stops and he is the only one who walks in slow motion. Quite frankly, your days pass by whether you see him or not, but it doesn’t mean that the thought of him crosses your mind every once in a while.
“Maybe you just like the idea of him,” he offers with a sigh. There isn’t much that he could do for you in the middle of a snowstorm except to be on a video call with you and hope that the can solve whatever you have going on before his bedtime.
“I make up scenarios of him in my mind but I still prefer the real him,” you admit with a twinge of embarrassment. You can only sink deeper under your covers, pulling the cabin-themed sheets closer to your chest. Maybe you’re still holding onto the Wonwoo who existed during the work trip, and maybe, you think, he still exists somewhere.
“Hypothetically, do you maybe think that the reason why he’s so bad at everything is because he spends most of his time with children and draws instead of writing so his communication skill is basically hindered? Like how you’re good with feelings and ideas because that’s the bulk of the media you surround yourself with daily so you have more exposure to that area. So you have man-child versus person with skewed expectations on love and relationships. But then you literally have people like me…perfect in every aspect.”
“Shut up. You talk about traffic every morning but you can’t even name the model of your car. You were also tricked by a catfish.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“I’m sorry,” you beg him. “Please don’t.”
“My point is.” He places his phone down on the sleeping cat to use as a temporary phone stand while he gathers his thoughts. “The two of you seem like total opposites. And the only time the two of you seem to work well together is when you meet in the middle. So, have you ever tried communicating with him? Ever pulled him to the side to ask him why he’s such an ass?”
Yoon Jeonghan’s simple solution to your problem causes your brain to briefly short-circuit. Silence fills your lonely cabin room as your mouth slightly hangs open while your cousin silently judges you from the other end of the phone. It took a simple suggestion to make you realize that you have been hanging onto Wonwoo’s personality change to even think to consider the idea of confronting him about it. And Jeonghan’s hypothesis may not be wrong at all – life isn’t a fictional novel where everything can be magically solved in the incoming chapters.
“No?” Your answer is meek. You don’t know what to feel after this revelation. Anger? Despair? Peacefulness?
“And is he still knocking on your door? Trying to talk to you?” His tone is gentle for once.
“Yeah?” You look to the right side of your room where the door stands between his room and yours. Slips of lodge notebook paper often found in the nightstand drawers slowly shove themselves through the tiny crack under the door. “I think he’s pushing slips of paper under our shared door.”
“Then go talk to him. But throw away your snot pile and fix your appearance before you do. Yeah?”
“What would I do without you?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. Bye.”

Sitting on the floor with your back leaned against the door, you shuffle the sheets of paper in your hands. There are a couple of sorry notes partnered with sad and apologetic-looking animal doodles. There are a few slips where he asks you to forgive him. Then there are these series of slips – a mini cartoon of his morning, this morning – that somehow cause a small upwards curl to form on your lips.
Blue ballpoint pen ink depicts a series of panels starting with a text he received this morning. This comic is void of cute tiny animals and can only be drawn with the sincerity of a children’s book illustrator. He draws himself staring at his phone screen in confusion – you’re missing, and the rest of the work group chat has no idea where you are. And he’s worried. Everybody is worried, but nobody is worried enough to send search parties for you. Blue-figured Wonwoo rushes out of his room, completely abandoning his presentation for the author, to rush to the entrance of Interlude. Because he knows that your team always passes through Interlude, but you’re known to arrive at the campsite while rubbing your eyes, hair frizzing from the static built from your head rubbing against the headrest while you were sleeping on the way there. But the scene he stumbles upon makes him angry despite how relieved he is to know that you are okay.
The few pages that you hold in your hand are smudged with blue ink, and the ending is unfinished. Wonwoo softly rasps his knuckles against the shared door, calling out your name. When you don’t reply, he sighs and sits down with his back against the door. You feel a tiny jolt with his added pressure against the door. Still, you can’t bring yourself to confront him. At least not yet.
“I’m childish and I let myself get caught up in moments. And you were right, if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself for hurting you. At one point, I really did forget that the reason why we agreed to work together was because we didn’t want him to win. I ended up wanting us to win, or at least for you to win so you could have the upgrade. I’m really sorry for not communicating well with you, and for how I acted.”
The sound of his hair leaving the door lets you know that he probably dropped his head toward his lap.
Taking a shallow breath, he mutters into his hands, “And I wasn’t lying when I talked about us at the beach. I really did like you then. I still like you.”
“Then why ignore me? Why act like you hate me? What did I do to deserve how you treated me?” The questions leave your mouth in a flare of anger.
“I started ignoring you because I was hiding from you. I couldn’t confront you because I knew I would make it obvious that I liked you. But I guess I hid from you for too long because you thought I hated you.” His voice muffled from being on the other side of the door.
“So all of this happened because of some big misunderstanding? Just because we couldn’t confront each other?”
So it really was a simple problem with a simple solution. The revelation feels like a sore punch in the gut, one that’s so surprising that all you can do is laugh.
“I’m sorry, Yn. I really am.”
“I’m also sorry.” You feel really guilty now that you know that you were wrong to believe that he hated you. “I should’ve confronted you about this earlier.”
“Does it still hurt?” His voice sounds clearer as if he shifted his body so he sits facing the door.
“Oh, from the race? Actually nothing happened.”
“From when you fell from heaven,” he finishes with his voice trailing in diminuendo, almost as if he is slightly embarrassed from using the overused pick-up line.
“It actually hurt a lot,” you joke. “But I’m glad it was you who found me in the middle of the road.”
“Then can I stay by your side? Not separated by doors, but by your side?”
So you push yourself away from the door, turning around to unlock the brassy knob. The door slowly swings open to Wonwoo, who is still sitting on the floor, now facing you. And you awkwardly sit in front of him, not really able to meet his eyes.
“I think I have a lot to learn.” He fiddles with the hem of his sweater. “I’ll start by being more communicative about my feelings,” he promises with a soft smile. “Because I really do like you.”
“I like you too.”
There is a magnetic pull that slowly draws the two of you closer together, a comforting sort of sensation that offers a moment of solace created from two extremes. The outside world is dark. The snowstorm has long gone. The surfaces where the sunlight once touched are replaced with the soft yellow glow of several lamps around both of your rooms. Kaleidoscopic remnants of shards of light scatter around every surface. But the two of you, seemingly in the very corners of your shared world exert a different type of glow - one that can only be created in a collision like the break of dawn after a devastating snowstorm.
“I really like you too,” you can’t help but reaffirm.
“It’s actually ‘I also like you.’” He can’t help but playfully correct you. “You’re the publisher. You shouldn’t be making these errors.” He teases.
“And you’re the illustrator, so shouldn’t you stay quiet so I can kiss you?”

one month later
At the base of a computer monitor, a tiny wooden whittled cat naps lazily next to its turtle counterpart. Two people sit side-by-side in the breakroom a few rooms away, the metal seats practically stuck to each other. While their lunches heat up in the microwave, the two happily discuss the upcoming young adult novel they are finally working on together. Under the table, their pinkies naturally interlock. The man who scrolls through art ideas on his tablet can’t help but let his eyes linger on his partner for a little too long while they scroll enthusiastically through the several concept art slides he created. When the microwave sounds, he quickly leaves a soft and brief kiss on the side of his partner’s temple before getting up to remove their heated lunches. And the partner smiles while turning back to look at him, a smile brighter than the soft sunlight that wraps the room in a warm afternoon glow.
There’s a new interlude in their timelines. In this interlude, the two opposites are taking it slow, learning to meet in the middle.

dedicated to ellie (@flowershu/@eliphant). just wanted to thank you for supporting wondernus for all these years. happy new year <33
Copyright © 2022 Wondernus. All rights reserved.
my way to you special: in the moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader
➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life
➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing towards the end, they love each other so much it's unreal D:
➝ word count: 2.6~k
A/N: hi! another short one to celebrate my 3k milestone. i've missed this couple too and i'm just so so soft for them <//3 once again, thank you for your support and please enjoy this little gift. don't hesitate to drop by and tell me your thoughts too!
my way to you masterlist
[✾✾✾]
“So.”
“So?” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow, wondering what you’re up to.
“The wedding is next week.” You nudge him with a cheeky smile. “You ready?”
He rolls his eyes and nudges you back, then laughs when you stumble a little because he forgot just how easy you lose your balance.
“It’s Jinyoung’s wedding, why would I need to be ready?”
“Best man stuff.” You shrug as you lean over to hug his arm and claim the rightful spot that is his shoulder.
You’re currently out for a walk with Wonwoo, because it’s nice out and you’re a little too full from the lunch you’ve just had with him. You smile as you see a dog running in your direction, hugging yourself closer to Wonwoo to make ways for the owner to pass you.
“You know it’s just formality. I don’t even know why he needs a best man.”
“Formality is right. Let’s not have those for our wedding.” You say absentmindedly, not even looking at him.
Wonwoo bites his lip to suppress a stupid smile at your comment about your (currently) nonexistent wedding plan. You’ve been doing that a lot since Jinyoung’s wedding preparation; mentioning what to do at your wedding even though none of you has talked about marriage just yet.
Yes, you both know you’re going to marry each other and it definitely will happen someday. But it’s not like he’s proposed yet and he’s starting to think that he should do it soon now that you keep on mentioning it.
Is this you sending him codes?
He doubts. You’re usually very straightforward with what you want from him, even more when it comes to your relationship.
So, you talking about these things can only mean one thing: you’re already more than comfortable with the idea of marriage (hopefully only with him). He probably should start planning for a proposal after Jinyoung’s wedding.
“Why are you smiling by yourself, you weirdo?” You frown with a concerned look, stopping on your track. Wonwoo simply shakes his head and pulls you with him again, and he doesn’t even indulge you when you keep on insisting to find out what’s inside his mind.
You really should’ve known by now it’s only you in his mind and he has no plan in changing it.
[✾✾✾]
“Princess, I think you’ve tried enough already.” He pretends to be reluctant when you insist on going into one more shop for a dress. But, really, he’s just afraid his heart wouldn’t be able to take it if he sees you in one more dress.
He doesn’t see why you thought every single one you’ve tried on has some sort of flaws. Whatever it is, Wonwoo definitely can’t tell because you seem perfect in each one of them. Plus, it doesn’t help that he keeps on imagining you with a wedding dress everytime you come out of the fitting room to give him a twirl.
Fuck, can you be more adorable than you already are?
“Last one, I promise.” You pull him with no effort, because despite the fact that he’s whining for you to stop, he’s still an absolute simp when it comes to you so there’s no way he’d be able to say no under any circumstances. “If I still don’t find any, we’ll have dinner and head home?”
Home means Wonwoo’s place. And despite the fact that you’ve been addressing it as such since a few months back and you’ve been practically living in his place since the moment he moved in, it still warms his heart everytime he hears you call it home.
Seungcheol doesn’t even drive you to your place anymore after office unless you specifically say so.
“Why don’t you just make your own dress?” He suggests. “Don’t you do that sometimes?”
“The designer that makes my clothes is on maternity leave and I only like her works.”
“Clearly you’re not liking any of these, too.” He says before he even realizes, then winces when you hit his shoulder. You can really hit when you want to is something that Wonwoo has learned throughout the years he’s been with you. “Alright, come on. But I get to choose dinner.”
Wonwoo should’ve tried harder to convince you to go shopping with Chaeyoung. Because now his heart is about to burst at how fucking beautiful you look wrapped in a rose gold colored dress that hugs your body just right, falling just right below your knees. Some part of your skin is peeking through the sheer material, and he almost wants you to not like this because there’s no way in hell he is going to be able to stand you looking like this for hours straight.
“I take that you like this one?” You giggle at his expression; mouth ajar and eyes blown open though nothing escapes his lips.
“You look beautiful.” He says, almost like in a trance when he stands up to look at you closer.
It’s unfair just how beautiful you look, alright.
“A little too beautiful.”
You scrunch your nose at that, though your heart is beating in a messy rhythm. Wonwoo does that sometimes; gets severely honest during this kinda moment that he’s almost cheesy had this been any other situation. But you’re not complaining, and you can only whisper a small ‘really?’ because you’re suddenlt shy under his gaze.
“This is the dress, then.”
That was why you insisted on going shopping with him, alright.
[✾✾✾]
“How are you feeling?” You hold Jisoo’s hand, careful not to ruin anything even though there’s really nothing you can ruin by holding her hand.
She looks like the pristine picture of a bride. She’s the bride, you decide. You’ve attended enough weddings to be able to tell when the bride is happy or is standing there against her will, but you’ve never seen a bride glowing as much as Jisoo is right now.
She’s radiating with all the good things in the world; she’s so in love and so happy that she’s not having cold feet at all. She’s so sure; in the promise of eternity, in life with Jinyoung, in whatever uncertainty that she might need to face after this day. Looking at the way she smiles before she mentions her soon-to-be-husband’s name, you suddenly feel like crying as you think about how you’d look on your wedding day.
“Hey, hey.” Jisoo panics a little, her hairstylist glaring at you for making her move. “Why are you crying?”
“No. Sorry, I just–” You blink continuously in hope it will stop your tears, but your lips are trembling and Jisoo actually tells her hairstylist to stop for a bit because she needs to stand up. Jennie has just come into the room when Jisoo reaches to hug you. She sends her friend a concerned look, but the look in the older girl’s face obviously means she’s not sure what’s going on either.
“I’m so sorry.” You shake your head as you carefully wipe your tears. “I’m not sure why I’m crying.”
Jisoo shares a look with Jennie, then takes a deep breath before she cups your cheek and gets into her older sister mode.
Dating Jinyoung for almost a decade and knowing him for more means she’s also known you for as long. She’s watched you and Wonwoo throughout the years, and she was probably one of the happiest parties when it was made clear that you and Wonwoo are finally dating.
She remembered telling Jinyoung a long time ago, way before you and Wonwoo started dating, that she’s envious of what you had with his brother. The both of you made love seem very easy, like it’s just obvious that you have to take care of each other.
As some sort of older sister for both you and Wonwoo, she can tell for sure that you’re one of those lucky couples that are just meant for each other. Jisoo has never believed much in soulmates; even her relationship with Jinyoung was nothing sort of magical because they choose to stay with each other.
They love each other, but it’s not easy to stay together when they have different ways of thinking and sometimes different views on life in general. She never doubts that Jinyoung loves her, but there used to be times when she doubted if love alone was enough. Unlike you and Wonwoo that she just knew would end up together no matter what, Jinyoung and Jisoo had quite the hurdles to finally get where they’re at.
Perhaps that’s why it feels fulfilling now that they’re taking another step for their future.
“Want me to call for Wonwoo?” Jennie offers, rubbing your back in comfort.
“No, it’s fine.” You smile despite your sniffles. “I’m just–happy for you. And… yeah. It’s not important. It’s your big day, sorry.”
Jisoo presses her lips together before she carefully asks Jennie and her makeup artists if she can have some time alone with you. You look up in surprise, but Jennie simply nods and smiles before she says she’ll just be nearby just in case.
It’s silent for a moment after everyone leaves, and you look at Jisoo, all gorgeous in her wedding dress even if her makeup is unfinished. You don’t talk to her on a daily basis, but she feels like she’s always been in your life due to her long years with Jinyoung–who’s basically your brother.
She’s always been kind to you though. She takes care of you a lot and even though you’re not the closest to her and you’d hang out with her from time to time even without Jinyoung or Wonwoo around. You remember going to her the few times you did end up fighting with Wonwoo, or when you just felt like sulking to someone older because Jeonghan and Shua just wouldn’t get it.
She’s not your closest friend, nor is she the first person you’d seek when you have a problem; but she’s still like your sister regardless and you couldn’t be happier for her.
“You’re thinking about your wedding, aren’t you?”
You offer her a small smile, a little shy but not seeing any reason to deny it.
“Do you want it to be soon?”
“Not sure.” You say honestly. Do you? Will it make any difference? You’ve always had Wonwoo by your side even though it’s only been two years or so since you framed your relationship under romance. You know it’s him you’re going to marry someday, but you’ve never thought of it as a pressing matter. Some days you even think it might be okay to just stay the way you are; together.
Is there any need to get married when you already know you’re it for each other?
But after seeing more and more of Jinyoung’s wedding preparations, you notice some kind of preferences you have regarding a lot of stuff. You find yourself thinking about what to do or what not to do for your own wedding.
And now that it’s d-day and you get to see Jisoo in her wedding dress, readying herself to seal the vow of eternity, you suddenly get a wave of imaginary pictures of you at your own wedding. They’re overwhelming, they scare you a little, but, more importantly, they give you a rush of giddiness that you’ve never experienced in your life.
“What scares you?” She shoots right to the point, and you open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because you really don’t know what does. She seems to get this, so she changes her question to one far more fitting. “What makes you think you’re not ready?”
But you keep your silence. Because now that you think about it… nothing does.
Were you really not ready?
Or did you just think marrying him was just obvious?
“Nothing?” She smiles knowingly and squeezes your hands. “Maybe you’re more ready than you thought you were, then.”
[✾✾✾]
“What was that?” Wonwoo asks once you’ve settled beside him on the bed, fresh out of the shower. It’s almost 2AM now, Jinyoung’s wedding celebration ended just a few hours ago. But between being an immediate family and the after party for the youngsters, you and Wonwoo barely make it to the hotel room they’ve booked for you.
“What was what?” You know what he’s asking, but you’re still a little tipsy from all the drinks and you feel like playing dumb. You have all the time in the world, anyway.
You sneak your arms around his middle and lean against his chest, your ear right where his heart is at. The two of you really should be sleeping, if only because you’re dead tired and you’re sleepy; but none of you feel like doing so for some reason, so you’re just sitting there against the headboard of your bed, a blanket covering your bottom half as you cuddle with each other.
“You cried during the wedding.”
“Duh.” You bury yourself further into him. “It’s a wedding.”
He chuckles regardless, then drops a kiss on top of your head and rephrases his question. “You don’t usually cry at weddings, princess. Anything you wanna tell me?”
“Dunno.” You shrug. You look up and plant your chin on his chest to look up at him, the position is uncomfortable, but Wonwoo steals a kiss that you happily return. You spend a few moments just like that, sharing a lazy kiss that’s not going to lead anywhere.
If you hadn’t known Wonwoo since you were a kid, and if you hadn’t been practically living with him, you’d probably be thinking about how lucky you’d be if you got the chance to wake up next to him in the morning.
But you already do. You wake up to him everyday, and he’s not always the most handsome during then, sometimes he’s even borderline annoying, but you love him anyway and he’s still the most beautiful person in your world.
You’re not taking his love for granted, but if there’s anything you’re sure of in this world, you’re sure about your love for him and his love for you.
“You’re really not going to tell me?” He whispers like it’s a secret, his lips barely away from yours.
You stare at him for a bit before you move to sit on his lap instead. If he’s surprised, Wonwoo doesn’t show it, but he happily lets you circle your arms around his neck while he puts his around your waist.
Time is a strange concept when you’re with him. You don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but you know that his eyes hold your galaxies and you’ll never get tired of drowning in them. Wonwoo doesn’t seem concerned though, which is yet another thing you love about him because he just seems to be able to translate your silence very well.
It’s then that you decide to break the serene moment.
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
Your voice is small, barely even a whisper, but it's so clear to him like music that's only reserved for his ears and his ears only.
“Spend the rest of your life with me?”
Wonwoo blinks. Once, and then twice. And then he smiles and hugs you closer to kiss your forehead.
“I will even if you don’t ask me to.”
It’s 2 in the morning, you’re in your pajamas, and you don’t have any grand proposal up your sleeves but it’s okay because Wonwoo is always one step ahead than you are. And as he pulls away and gets off the bed to take something from his small luggage, you end up crying in the middle of the dusk when he slides the ring to your finger.
You can’t imagine a proposal better than this one; just you and him with no one to witness the magical moment that’s only reserved for you two, the city asleep and the moon high up in the sky.
[✾✾✾]
©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.
A/N: hi. just want to remind you that your words mean a lot to writers and i wanna remind you also that we're doing this for free. when i say i can't believe i have 3k followers, i don't mean it in an insecure way, i mean it in a way that: i barely have people who interact with me, what do you mean there are 3 thousand blogs here??? i think not even 10% of these blogs ever talk to me. but, at this point, this felt like talking to a wall and it gets discouraging. so i'm just... going to write whenever i feel like writing, and i'm considering to get rid of my tag list too while i'm at it. anyhow, thank you to those who always leave feedbacks and drop by from time to time, and i'm thankful for all of you still for taking your time to read this and my other works and i'll see you whenever i post smth again :)
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