#strangerstolovers

I was wondering if I could request a Wonwoo x Reader — something with a strangers-to-lovers theme where the reader falls first, but Wonwoo falls harder. I'd love it to have an intense romantic vibe with some angst and emotional depth. Maybe some possessive (but respectful) kind of love, and eventually them building a family together.

I'm not sure if my request makes sense, but if it does, I’d really appreciate it if you could give it a try — even if it takes time! I'll be looking forward to it. 🩵🩷

BREATHE ME

(Jeon Wonwoo x FemReader)

*Romantic angst, strangers-to-lovers, emotional, slow-burn*

I never believed in fate not until the day I met Jeon Wonwoo.

It was a rainy afternoon, the kind that made people rush through the streets, duck under umbrellas, and curse the sky. I, however, welcomed the cold drizzle. It gave me an excuse to slow down, to breathe amidst a life that often felt too loud, too fast. I was on my way to the bookstore a tiny one, hidden in the corner of an old alley near campus. The kind of place no one really noticed unless they were looking for it.

I had just finished a long shift at the library where I worked part-time. The dust of centuries-old books clung to my skin, and the dull ache of standing for hours throbbed in my legs. Still, I walked. My tote bag was weighed down by textbooks and dreams I hadn’t quite given up on yet.

That’s when I saw him.

He was standing inside the bookstore, a book in one hand, his fingers lightly brushing over the edge of a page like it was a piece of art. He didn’t notice me, not then. But I noticed everything about him. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the curve of his lips as he muttered something under his breath, the gentle shake of his head when he decided the book wasn’t what he was looking for. I remember thinking he looked like a painting still, quiet, timeless.

It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone you’ve never met can suddenly become a character in the story you tell yourself every night before sleep.

I didn’t talk to him that day.

But I went back.

Again. And again.

At first, it was coincidence. Then it became intention.

He’d come every Wednesday at the same time. Always alone. Always browsing the literature section. And I… I would pretend to be lost in books, stealing glances like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

He never noticed.

Until he did.

It was a Thursday. I almost didn’t go because of a deadline. But something in me tugged, told me to skip the library and head straight to the shop. He was already there, dressed in all black, a cap pulled low, fingers dancing along the spines of new arrivals. I made my way to the poetry shelf, pretending not to look.

Then I heard his voice.

“You always pick that one.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. I turned, stunned, blinking up at him. His voice was low and rich, like velvet over gravel. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes… they held something recognition, amusement, warmth.

“I-I like this author,” I replied, gripping the book in my hands a little too tightly.

He nodded. “You’ve read it five times. At least. I’ve been counting.”

My face burned. “You… noticed?”

He looked down for a second, then back at me. “Hard not to.”

That’s how it began.

From that moment, something changed.

I started going to the bookstore not for the books, not even for the poetry I claimed to love but for him.

Wonwoo.

That was his name. He told me the next time we bumped into each other, casually slipping it in like it wasn’t going to rearrange my entire world. He didn’t ask for mine right away. He just nodded when I introduced myself, then went back to the fiction shelf with that quiet smile that never quite reached his eyes but made something flutter in my chest anyway.

Our conversations were brief at first. Soft and hesitant. Like two people afraid to speak too loud, afraid to pop the bubble that somehow formed around us. He had a calm aura, but it wasn’t cold it was grounding. Like a forest. Like shade on a summer day. And he listened. God, he listened. Like every word I said mattered.

“I work in publishing,” he told me once, though I later learned he was far more than just an editor. He’d authored books, quietly helped build the careers of some bestselling writers, and was known in circles I only dreamed of stepping into. But he never boasted. If anything, he always downplayed himself.

That made me fall harder.

And I was falling. Hard.

The crush was no longer a secret I whispered into my pillow. I couldn’t help it. I looked for him in crowds, smiled when my phone lit up with his name, read into every soft touch of his fingers when he handed me a coffee.

But I didn’t tell him. I didn’t dare.

Because he was… Wonwoo.

And I was just me.

Still, he kept showing up. Not just at the bookstore, but at the art gallery I mentioned in passing. At the same café I worked at on weekends. Coincidences became too specific. One night, he even showed up with a scarf I’d mentioned loving weeks ago and said, “It looked like something you’d wear.”

That night, I cried into my pillow, unsure what the hell we were becoming but praying, hoping it was more.

And then came the day I realized he was falling too.

It was late autumn. The bookstore was about to close, and we had sat on the floor near the back wall, flipping through a novel we both loved, arguing over its ending like we hadn’t just spent hours doing this already.

I was laughing. Not a soft laugh but a real, throw-my-head-back one.

And he was staring.

I felt it. The weight of his gaze. When I looked at him, his eyes didn’t move away.

He was still.

Too still.

And then his hand reached forward, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I think I’m in trouble,” he whispered.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t mean to feel this much.”

He didn’t kiss me that day.

But his words did.

After that, everything changed. The air between us charged with something electric, something dangerous. I couldn’t sleep that night. Neither could he he texted me at 3AM: Can I see you tomorrow?

We started spending every evening together. In silence. In bookstores. In hidden cafés. In the park under fading lamplight. He was thoughtful. He never rushed me. Never pushed. He asked questions that mattered. Looked at me like I was a mystery worth solving. Held my hand like it was a vow.

But there was something in him I couldn’t reach.

A shadow behind his eyes.

He told me he’d been hurt. That he didn’t believe in “forever” because it always came with a deadline. That the last time he let someone in, he watched them leave anyway.

“I’m scared of ruining things,” he admitted one night, his voice raw.

“You won’t,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his. “I’m not asking for forever. Just... stay for now.”

That was the night he kissed me.

It wasn’t fireworks. It was something quieter. More intimate. Like a prayer.

But with every passing day, I saw it he was falling. Slowly. Deeply.

And the way he looked at me… like he was memorizing me. Like he had already imagined a life.

He fell quietly, but hard.

Harder than I ever expected.

It started small. The shift.

At first, I told myself I imagined it because I always do that when I’m scared of losing something good. The overthinking. The second-guessing. The flinch when something beautiful starts to tremble.

But Wonwoo was different.

He’d made me feel safe. Sure. Steady. Like he’d catch me even before I fell.

So when the silence between texts stretched longer, I pretended he was just busy.

When he stopped showing up at the café like he used to, I convinced myself he needed space.

But then, the first real silence happened.

He left me on read.

For an entire day.

No explanation. No excuse.

And it crushed me more than I’d like to admit.

I sat on the steps outside my apartment building, phone in hand, reading our past messages like some kind of love letter eulogy. I replayed his voice in my head, his laughter, that night under the stars where he told me, “I didn’t mean to feel this much.”

And now he was acting like he didn’t feel anything at all.

When I finally saw him again, it was by chance.

or fate.

I was walking home from the bookstore, arms full of paper and poetry, when I saw him across the street. Frozen. Like he didn’t expect to see me either.

Our eyes met.

And there it was that old look again.

The one that used to undo me.

He crossed the road in slow steps. Didn’t say anything at first. Just stared.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, voice rough like he hadn’t used it in days.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t know how.

“I’ve been... off. I know.”

I waited.

“I started overthinking,” he admitted. “How serious this is. How much I want you. How scared I am to want this much and still not be enough.”

That was when I broke.

“You already were enough, Wonwoo,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You were more than enough. I didn’t need perfection. I needed you to show up.”

“I know.” He took a breath like it hurt. “And I didn’t. I got so scared of falling deeper, I started pulling away. I thought if I stepped back first, I could soften the blow.”

“And you think hurting me like this softens anything?” I choked out, tears falling.

He looked wrecked. And I hated that I still wanted to pull him into my arms.

Then, in a moment of desperation—he did it.

He wrapped his arms around me, tight. Desperate. Like he was anchoring himself.

“I didn’t know I could feel this much,” he whispered against my hair. “You made me feel everything, and I panicked.”

I didn't move. But I felt the warmth of him seep into my bones.

I wanted to stay there. But I needed to protect myself too.

I gently pushed him back.

“I love you, Wonwoo,” I said, voice trembling. “But I can’t keep being the only one willing to stay when it gets hard.”

His eyes widened. Like that was the first time he realized what he was about to lose.

And he broke. Right there.

His knees hit the pavement. Mine followed. We didn’t care about the people passing by.

We clung to each other like lifelines. Both crying. Both shaking.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Let me fix this. Please. I’ll do anything.”

After that night, things didn’t magically heal.

But he showed up.

Every day.

He made coffee for me before I woke up. Showed up at my class presentations with quiet pride in his eyes. Walked me home when it rained. Sat with me during my breakdowns and said nothing just held me like I was allowed to fall apart.

And when he asked me to move in with him months later, he didn’t make a speech. He just handed me a key and said, “Let’s start writing our story together, not just visiting chapters.”

We learned each other’s fears. Our triggers. Our love languages. Our silences. And we chose to love anyway.

Wonwoo became mine.

Not just in words but in the way he lived his days around me.

He was possessive, yes but in a way that always respected my space. Protective, not controlling. His love was quiet but all-consuming. He’d touch my lower back in crowded rooms. Glance at me a second longer if someone else made me laugh too loud.

And one night, years later, while sitting on the floor with photo albums and our newborn sleeping nearby, he whispered,

“Remember when I told you I didn’t believe in forever?”

I nodded.

He took my hand, pressing a kiss into my palm. “I was wrong. I just hadn’t met you yet.”

I noticed it before I admitted it.

The way Wonwoo’s hand tightened slightly whenever someone complimented me. How his arm slid around my waist like a quiet claim, even when the conversation was harmless. The way his gaze lingered on anyone who laughed a little too loud near me.

I knew he loved me. That was never the problem.

The problem was when it started to feel like he didn’t know how to let go.

It came to a head one evening after a long day of classes and studio time. I was exhausted. He had picked me up, like always, and we went back to his place. The silence in the car had been thick.

He glanced at me when we got inside.

“You’re quiet.”

I shrugged, kicking off my shoes. “Just tired.”

He followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I poured myself water. “Something happened?”

I took a slow sip. “No. Not exactly.”

He waited.

And that’s when I said it.

“Wonwoo, do you trust me?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course I do.”

“Then why does it sometimes feel like you don’t trust anyone else around me?”

There. I said it.

The air shifted.

He didn’t respond right away. Just stared at me, eyes searching mine like he wasn’t sure what I meant or maybe he did, and didn’t want to face it.

“I’m not accusing you,” I added quickly, softer this time. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like you’re always on guard. Like you’re constantly trying to prove something.”

He looked away for a moment, jaw tightening.

“I’m just protecting what’s mine.”

“I’m not something you own, Wonwoo.”

That was the first time I’d ever raised my voice at him. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.

His shoulders tensed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t,” I said gently. “But I can’t always feel like I’m being watched, like I’m being hovered over. I love you. I come home to you. Isn’t that enough?”

He was quiet for a long time.

And then he said, “I’m scared.”

That cracked something open in me.

“I’ve never had someone like you before,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “And when I see people looking at you, laughing with you, getting close… I feel like I’m holding something I don’t deserve. And I’m terrified one day you’ll realize that.”

Tears pricked my eyes.

I stepped closer. “Wonwoo… you do deserve me. And I deserve you. But love doesn’t mean you have to hold on so tightly you forget I’m standing right beside you.”

He swallowed hard, eyes glassy.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I whispered, voice cracking. “But if we don’t talk about these things… if we keep letting silence do the talking, we’re going to break something we can’t fix.”

He looked at me then really looked.

And when I opened my arms, he stepped into them like he was falling. We sank to our knees, holding each other like we were the last people on earth. My fingers in his hair. His arms wrapped tightly around me. My tears soaking into his hoodie.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured over and over. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” I whispered. “But you have to let yourself breathe too. Love doesn’t have to hurt to be real.”

And in the silence that followed, we held each other until the shaking stopped.

Until his grip softened.

I hope you guys really enjoy this story. I have been having so much fun taking the imaginary worlds in my head and putting them on paper (well, computer in this case). Feedback and Comments are welcome. If you would like to be tagged in this or any of my future stories, please let me. know.

On the highest of seven hills sits the “College of Love and Charity.” This university boasts a 138-year history, having produced powerhouses in entertainment, business, journalism, and medicine. It is also the setting for this unlikely love story between two very different individuals, the classic trope of enemies-to-lovers or strangers-to-lovers. I guess you can be the judge.

S/O to the inspiring writers on this platform who have encouraged me to write just for me @spiicii, @whatdoeseverybodywant, @oddinary4bts @kithtaehyung @here2bbtstrash @charmed-dreamssss @zillasvilla @msbigredmachine @trippiexlove @wrestlingprincess80 and the many others

-Jey Uso X Afro-Latina Reader -Enemy-lover

Thorned Rose, A Red Dead Redemption 2 AU - Some Notes (on Wattpad) 

 What if Arthur had a daughter and Micah had a son and they accidentally fell in love on a quest for revenge? 

When Rosemary Morgan (OC) watches her father, Arthur, die at the hands of Micah Bell at just 13 years old, she is forever changed. Consumed by grief and anger, she sets out on an obsessive manhunt with the help of Sadie Adler, determined to make Micah pay for everything he did to her and her father. 

8 years pass, and Rosemary has yet to find him. Hope is slipping away, leaving her more cynical and impulsive by the day. But her luck hasn't completely run out, as one night in a saloon, a handsome stranger named Chase Blaire approaches her, claiming to know something about Micah's whereabouts. 

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six

A Different Man (ao3) - RhenNuggs

Summary: Dan is struggling to find love, but it is easier said than done when all he has is a long list of horrible exes. He doesn’t know if he will ever find love. That is, until he gets invited to an unexpected party that may forever change the course of his life.

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He's rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn't know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

Porn with feels and some Christmas magic.

Barbie Horse Adventures (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Sometimes friends force you to get over your worst fears, sometimes you meet your soulmate in the process.

Beautiful Liar (ao3) - toadsappho

Summary: A devastating revelation from a cute stranger sitting in the bar where Dan is supposed to be meeting his boyfriend rocks Dan's world- but it turns out that might not be such a bad thing

Burned Into My Soul (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: "Sometimes you have to run into this head first," Dan always said. Ironically, that's exactly what he did.

Carpets, Pokemon and hugs (These are a few of my favorite things) (ao3) - DownDownFangirl

Summary: "Is everything ok?" The tall guy stops. The elevator starts to close. The guy reaches for the door and it opens again. He looks into Phil's eyes and it’s strong and focused and confusing.

-

Phil works at a motel and Dan is a guest who comes and goes. There are many thoughts to think and many delicate conversations to have... And it can get confusing, especially when you live hundreds of kilometers away from each other.

Charmed (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Dan doesn’t understand Valentine’s Day. That is until he’s given an anonymous card with someone’s phone number in it. It takes months of talking with this anonymous person to learn who they are, and it ends up being the person that Dan least expects.

Deeper (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Inspired by the idea of "Pass Around Party Bottom Dan."

do you feel it too? (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: A bad break-up has left Phil scared of getting his heart broken again. He’s not ready to date, but he’s missing the easy affection of a long-term relationship.

Cuddle therapy might be the perfect way to get what he needs, with no strings attached. But what happens when that’s no longer enough?

Electronics and the Phil’s that break them (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: The first time’s an accident, a proper accident— a Phil forgot how to hold his cup and now he’s watching his coffee seep into his keyboard type accident.

florist (ao3) - dnovep

Summary: Phil's a florist - he hates it.

Golden Boy (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Phil takes a drawing class in university and needs a subject for his drawing final.

home renovations (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Phil is a new homeowner with a knack for getting himself into awkward situations around cute guys. Dan is a builder who's always working on renovations around Phil's house. What could go wrong?

(An alternate meeting YouTuber Phil/builder Dan AU.)

i will never know a sunday (how slow the moments go) (ao3) - beaniebopbaby

Summary: Phil was mesmerized. He had no idea how anyone in the room was talking. How could they not listen to this beautiful piece?

The man hunched over the piano, and Phil felt like he couldn’t breath. He looked around the room, to see if anyone else noticed this shift, when he finally realized they were alone. The notes grew slower and slower as Phil stood, drifting closer to the man playing the piano. The pianist looked as mesmerized as Phil, absorbed in his playing.

Kick Me While I'm Down (ao3) - jerseker

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lady stardust (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Dan is in his first year of studying to become a lawyer (or something like that). One night, as he tries to have somewhat of a regular university life, he goes out with his new flatmates to a pub. There, he sees a Bowie-obsessed musician, who he immediately becomes obsessed with; Phil Lester.

Do you see where this is going? He was a boy, he was also a boy, this is an AU, could I make it any more obvious?

Neighbourly Nook (ao3) - wednesday_ukiru

Summary: The stranger had a dimple on his cheek that appeared when he laughed.

“I’m Dan,” he said, extending his hand. Phil reached for it with extreme eagerness, their knuckles knocking together in a particularly painful way, and they both winced, but Dan immediately broke into a smile. “I don’t know why I offered you a handshake, I never know how to do them.”

often and frequently (ao3) - dickiegreenleaf

Summary: It's ironic, really. Phil's just spent all this money on a new home when the only place he wants to spend his time is at his hot neighbour's place.

Stranger Danger (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Dan thinks he's the most awkward guy on the tube until he spots a guy that seems to be in an even worse condition than himself.

Sweet Juliet (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan is a baker in his thirties, feeling the weight of the passage of time on his shoulders, living a content yet uneventful life until a mysterious man takes it upon himself to whisk him away.

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Summary: It starts with Phil destroying a supermarket shelf, it ends with the hot guy running the cheese stall.

the man of my dreams (ao3) - mel_m_a_o

The Hand That Needs You - Chapter Seven (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1513926064-the-hand-that-needs-you-chapter-seven?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=andromeda24602 

maybe this was exactly what was meant to happen. maybe the camera people knew someone like jisung would more likely than not end up humiliated, rejected by the hot girl, and that was the whole idea. everyone would begin laughing in a second and he would be forever remembered for this. “i’ll kiss you.” - jisung is the next victim of the baseball's game kiss cam and his girlfriend can't be bothered to even turn around. lucky for him, someone else is willing to kiss him.

15.8k words

jisung x felix

The first installment of "The Shadowbearer Trilogy" invites readers into a world of self-discovery, deception, and the unyielding shadows that torment our souls.

(Coming September 2024) www.jasmynmorning.com

strangers to lovers + shadow daddy + touch him and 💀 + morally grey + secrets + lovers to enemies + second chance + MORE!