🌙 in between stages
(wonwoo x fem!idol reader)(main vocalist & visual of LUNARIS)
Genre: slow burn, idol au, mutual pining, secret feelings, fluff with tiny bits of angst, members being the best wingmen
Word count: ~5.2k Warnings: none, just realistic idol life (exhaustion, secrecy, the industry being the industry)
A/N: this one’s for the girlies who love the long game. the glances across waiting rooms, the way your heart stutters when he laughs under his breath, the secret lives you both watch at 3 a.m. like it’s a crime. enjoy the burn 🖤
“I found you in the quiet parts of noise…” song: “Through the Night” – IU
2015.05.26 — Seventeen debuts You were still a trainee then, glued to the dorm TV with the other girls, watching a boy group you didn’t know yet tear through “Adore U” like it was the easiest thing in the world. The tall one in the back with the glasses and the soft voice caught your eye for half a second. You didn’t know his name. You didn’t think you ever would.
2016.04.18 — LUNARIS debuts Your debut stage at Music Bank. Heart hammering so hard you were scared the in-ear would fall out. You bowed ninety degrees to the senior groups in the hallway and that was when you saw him again Jeon Wonwoo, standing a little behind Mingyu, black mask pulled down just enough to show the slope of his nose. He was holding a water bottle like it was an anchor. Your eyes met for maybe two seconds. He nodded once, polite. You nodded back. That was it.
The first real conversation happened six months later at the 2016 MAMA backstage.
LUNARIS had just finished “Eclipse,” your title track, and the adrenaline was still buzzing under your skin like static. You were trying to fix the strap of your stage shoe in the narrow hallway when a pair of black sneakers stopped in front of you.
“You dropped this,” a low voice said.
You looked up. Wonwoo. He was holding the tiny silver star charm that had fallen off your mic stand earlier. His fingers were long, veins standing out against the pale skin. He looked tired everyone did at MAMA but his eyes were steady.
“Oh—thank you,” you said, voice still hoarse from singing. You took the charm. Your fingertips brushed. Static again, but different.
He gave the smallest smile, the kind that lived mostly in the corner of his mouth. “Your high note in the bridge… it was really clean.”
Your stomach flipped. “You watched the whole thing?”
“Hard not to when you’re performing right before us.” He shrugged, shy. “Seventeen’s up next. Good luck with the rest of the night.”
You watched him walk away, shoulders a little rounded like he was trying not to take up space. Mingyu appeared behind him, slinging an arm around his neck and teasing something you couldn’t hear. Wonwoo glanced back once. You pretended you hadn’t noticed.
2017 — The year of small collisions
You started seeing him everywhere because the industry is small when you’re both promoting.
Music Bank waiting rooms. Inkigayo green rooms. The same variety shows booked back-to-back. LUNARIS and Seventeen were both on the rise your girls and his boys started nodding at each other in the hallways, exchanging polite “fighting!”s and sharing snacks when the staff weren’t looking.
The first time your groups actually hung out was at a joint radio show promo in early 2017. All of you crammed into a tiny studio after recording. Someone (Hoshi, of course) suggested a group photo. You ended up standing next to Wonwoo because the formation forced it. His shoulder brushed yours. He smelled like fabric softener and the faintest trace of coffee.
After the photo, while everyone was packing up, he leaned over just enough to murmur, “You guys covered ‘Don’t Wanna Cry’ in the practice room earlier, right? I heard it through the wall.”
Your ears burned. “You… heard that?”
“Soundproofing here is terrible.” That tiny smile again. “You did the ad-lib better than the original.”
You laughed under your breath, surprised. “Don’t tell Seungcheol oppa that.”
“I won’t.” He paused, like he was deciding whether to say the next part. “I’ve been watching your weekly lives sometimes. The one where you tried to teach the members that Seventeen choreography… it was cute.”
Your heart did something dangerous. “I’ve watched yours too,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. “The one where you read that sci-fi book out loud for thirty minutes. I fell asleep to it. In a good way.”
Wonwoo’s eyes widened a fraction, then softened. He looked away, ears turning pink under the studio lights. “Good to know my boring content is effective as a sleep aid.”
You wanted to say it wasn’t boring at all, but the manager called your group and the moment dissolved.
Secret watching became a habit.
He never said it out loud, but you started noticing patterns. Whenever LUNARIS had a comeback stage, a fancam of you would trend on Twitter with the caption “wonwoo liked this” within an hour. You did the same refreshing Seventeen’s VLive notifications at 2 a.m. in the dorm, earphones in, volume low so your members wouldn’t tease you. You learned the way he pushed his glasses up when he was thinking. The way his voice got even softer when he was tired. The way he looked at the camera sometimes like he was looking straight through it, straight at you.
You never liked the post. He never liked yours. But both of you knew.
2017.11 — The number exchange
Your groups were close by then. Mingyu and your leader had become actual friends something about shared cooking disasters and late-night convenience store runs during schedules. Hoshi adopted two of your members as chaos siblings. Even Woozi gave your main rapper producing tips.
One night after the Melon Music Awards, both groups ended up at the same after-party venue (a quiet rooftop in Gangnam, closed off for idols only). Alcohol was limited, but the vibe was loose. You were sitting on a low couch with a glass of water, watching the city lights, when Wonwoo dropped into the seat beside you. Not too close. Never too close.
“Long night,” he said quietly.
“Yeah.”
Silence settled, comfortable. Then he pulled his phone out, unlocked it, and held it toward you without looking at you.
“Put your number in,” he said, voice barely above the music. “If you want. No pressure. Just… in case we need to coordinate group stuff.”
Your pulse roared in your ears. You took the phone. Your fingers shook only a little as you typed your number and saved it under “Y/N 🌙” because you were feeling brave.
When you handed it back, he typed something quick and your phone buzzed in your pocket.
Unknown: this is wonwoo. don’t let the members see this chat or we’ll never hear the end of it.
You laughed softly. He smiled at his screen, the kind of smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
You: deal. but only if you don’t let mingyu see either.
Wonwoo: already threatened him with blackmail. we’re safe.
2018 — The year everything tilted
Texting became the secret thread holding you together between schedules.
He sent you photos of stray cats he fed near the dorm at 3 a.m. You sent him voice notes of you humming new melodies when you couldn’t sleep. He recommended books (“this one reminded me of the way you describe the moon on stage”). You recommended playlists (“this song feels like the way you look when you’re thinking”).
Your members knew. Of course they knew.
One night in the LUNARIS dorm, your maknae snatched your phone and read the last text out loud in a terrible deep voice: “the new choreo looks heavy. don’t push too hard. i saw the fancam you were limping a little in the bridge.”
The screaming that followed could have woken the whole building.
“UNNIE YOU’RE TEXTING JEON WONWOO?!”
“Since when?!”
“Since the MMA after-party, oh my god—”
You buried your face in a pillow while they planned your wedding.
Seventeen wasn’t any better. Mingyu sent you a selfie of him and Wonwoo in the practice room with the caption “he’s smiling at his phone again and it’s disgusting.” Wonwoo replied in your chat five seconds later: ignore him. he’s just jealous no one texts him at 2am about cat videos.
The first time you were truly alone together was pure accident.
February 2018. Both groups had a schedule at the same broadcasting building for a year-end special rerun. Power outage hit at 11 p.m. Elevators died. Staff herded everyone into the green room lounge with emergency lights and blankets. Your members immediately claimed the big couch and passed out. Seventeen’s members did the same in the opposite corner.
You and Wonwoo ended up on the small loveseat by the window, the only two still awake.
The city outside was dark except for the emergency generators humming. Snow had started falling.
“You cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
He hesitated, then shifted so his shoulder was against yours, sharing the blanket the staff had given him. Not touching anywhere else. Just… there.
“I’ve been meaning to say something,” he said after a long time. His voice was so quiet it felt like it was only for you. “I’ve liked watching you grow these past two years. Not just the stages. The way you take care of your members. The way you still get shy when someone compliments your vocals even though you’re one of the best in the industry. It’s… steady. You’re steady.”
Your heart cracked open so gently you almost didn’t feel it.
“I watch you too,” you whispered. “The way you stay calm when the rest of Seventeen is chaos. The way you remember little things about everyone. The way you look at the camera sometimes like you’re talking to one person only.” You swallowed. “I think that person might be me now.”
Wonwoo turned his head. In the dim emergency light his eyes were dark and warm and a little scared.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
He didn’t kiss you that night. The slow burn didn’t allow it yet. But he let his pinky rest against yours under the blanket, and that was enough. It was everything.
Spring 2018 — The members officially become the best (and most annoying) supporters
Seungkwan started a secret group chat titled “protect wonwoo & y/n’s slow burn 🫡” with all Seventeen members and all five LUNARIS girls. Rules: no screenshots, no teasing in public, supply snacks during schedules, and lie to managers if necessary.
Your leader pulled Wonwoo aside after a joint radio show and said, very seriously, “If you hurt her I will end your career and make it look like an accident.” Then she hugged him and added, “But also please be happy, you two deserve it.”
The confession happened on a rooftop in May 2018, exactly two years after your debut.
Both groups had finished promotions for the day. The members “conveniently” left you two alone on the roof of the HYBE building (Mingyu had bribed the security guard). The city stretched out below, Seoul lights glittering like the stars you sang about.
Wonwoo was wearing a black hoodie, glasses slightly fogged from the spring humidity. He looked nervous in the way only you could read now fingers tapping the railing, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, then laughed at himself. “I’ve been thinking about this for two years, actually. Since that hallway at Music Bank when you dropped the star charm and I thought, ‘she’s going to be important.’”
You stepped closer. The wind tugged at your hair.
“I’m in love with you,” he said, simple and devastating. “Not the idol version. Not the stage version. The version that stays up watching my boring lives and sends me cat pictures and works harder than anyone I know. I’m in love with that version. And I know the industry is cruel and we have to be careful, but I also know I don’t want to keep pretending I’m not completely gone for you.”
Your eyes stung. You reached up and brushed a stray snowflake (or maybe it was just a petal from the trees below) off his shoulder.
“I’ve been in love with you since you gave me my number and told me not to let the members see,” you said. “Since you made my boring content feel like the only thing keeping me sane at 3 a.m. Since you’ve been the quietest, safest place in the middle of all this noise.”
He smiled then wide, unguarded, the one he only ever let the members see and now you.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice rough.
You answered by closing the last step and pressing your lips to his.
It was soft. Slow. Two years of glances and texts and almosts poured into one perfect moment. His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck like you were something precious. You tasted the coffee he’d had earlier and the faint sweetness of the strawberry milk he stole from the vending machine.
When you pulled back, foreheads still touching, he whispered, “We’re going to have to be so careful.”
“I know,” you said. “But we’ve been careful for two years already. I think we’re pretty good at it.”
He laughed against your mouth and kissed you again, slower this time, like he had all the time in the world even though you both knew you didn’t.
Epilogue — six months later
The members still tease you mercilessly in the group chats.
You still watch each other’s lives in secret, but now you send reaction memes in your private thread instead of just staring at the screen with heart eyes.
He still sends you pictures of cats at 3 a.m.
You still fall asleep to the sound of his voice reading sci-fi books through your earphones when schedules overlap too much.
The industry is still loud and cruel and full of cameras, but between stages and award shows and waiting rooms, there’s a quiet space that belongs only to the two of you.
One year apart in debut.
Seven stages.
And the slowest, most beautiful burn you’ve ever known.
End.
thank you for reading if you made it this far 💌.
reblog if you’re also a sucker for 2-year slow burns where they fall in love through text messages and shared exhaustion. i love you.
— your fellow wonwoo bias wrecker who spent way too long on this 🖤
Milli says… ✍🏻✨
okay so… i might (like 90% sure + 100% not sure 😭) turn this into a whole series because ??? i’m already emotionally attached and not okay
like there’s just SO MUCH more to explore… secret dates, almost getting caught, soft fights, comfort, chaos… yeah i’m in deep
if you’re interested, pls reblog so i know i’m not writing into the void 🧍🏻♀️
AND also… you can totally request arcs, scenes, or specific moments you wanna see 👀 (my inbox is literally so empty it feels illegal at this point 💀)
don’t be shy… come bother me <3
