#so decided to post Ponytail Jun instead

[maxsix]

#jun #wen junhui #seventeen #excellence #i can't look at the crying Dingo video anymore lol #so decided to post Ponytail Jun instead

[stiltonbasket]

but ALSO okay so first of all thank you so much for the ficlets so far they are Adorable and i love them so much. second of all i am so glad you opened prompts again bcuz. i have. smth ive been wanting to read for a WHILE. so. prompt: junior generation post-canon, they all have super high standards for romantic partners cuz they spend time with Super Lovey Dovey WangXian. not like jiang cheng's List but smth a la Tenille Arts's Somebody Like That iykwim

i hope its not too late to insert a detail to my prompt!!! (i ran outta chara space in the og prompt message and then forgot ^^" ) but theres just one thing!! i really wanna see!!!! in the wangxian spoiling each other bit!!!!! (and the juniors being all That is Love Why Should We Settle For Less) -- i want lan zhan walkin around at one point with his hair in a braid and flowers braided in!!! and if asked he gets all soft and looks at it and is like "wei ying did it" ahhh i love the image <3

can anybody find me (somebody to love)

by stiltonbasket

“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?” 

(Or, the one where Jin Rulan visits the Cloud Recesses, contemplates his love life, and gets a new point of view on the Lan sect's taxation policy.)

Jin Ling is seventeen the year his dajiu marries Hanguang-jun, and finally gives Jin Ling the right to call Lan Sizhui his cousin. Sizhui’s always been his cousin, of course—they’ve been cousins since Jin Ling was born, even if neither of them knew it—but he couldn’t say so, because that would mean telling everyone that Sizhui was born a Wen. And telling everyone that Sizhui was a Wen would lead to terrible things, so Jin Ling keeps his mouth shut until after his dajiu’s wedding.

“You could just say that he was born to us during the Sunshot Campaign!” Wei Wuxian laughed, when he finally heard why Jin Ling wanted him to hurry up and take his three bows with Hanguang-jun. “Half the cultivation world already thinks he’s ours, anyway.”

But regardless of whether he could call Sizhui his biao-ge in public, Sizhui is first and foremost a very dear friend; and so are Lan Jingyi and A-Qing and Ouyang Zizhen, though Jin Ling’s best friend is probably Zizhen, just like Sizhui’s is Jingyi. He visits them in Gusu as often as he can, since all of them save Zizhen live there, and even Zizhen hangs around the Cloud Recesses more often than not. 

“Don’t you have a clan of your own?” Jin Ling frowns, when he visits his dajiu around midsummer to find the younger boy eating xiaolongbao in the jingshi’s new kitchen. “How come you’re still here, A-Zhen? The lectures ended weeks ago!”

“I’m almost sixteen,” Zizhen yawns, reaching for a shallow dish of black vinegar and soaking a salted mushroom in it. “Father says I’m old enough to go where I like, and Lan-xiansheng said I could keep studying with the Lan disciples as long as I stayed.”

“You’re just here for the food,” grumbles Jin Ling. His dajiu is a good cook when he doesn’t cover everything in chili peppers, and Jiujiu once told him in confidence that Wei-dajiu’s food was the closest Jin Ling would ever get to having his mother’s. But a steaming plate of xiaolongbao lands in front of Jin Ling before he can really start thinking about that, and then his baby cousin crawls into his lap and steals one of the soup dumplings.

“Ling-gege pays taxes,” three-year-old Lan Yu says serenely, poking a hole in the xiaolongbao and sucking out the broth. “Xiao-Yu can have one more?”

“Taxes?” Jin Ling stares at him. “What in the world does he mean?”

Wei Wuxian laughs and comes back over to give him another succulent soup dumpling to replace the one Xiao-Yu stole. “He’s pretending to be the sect leader,” he explains, ruffling Jin Ling’s hair on his way back to the stove. “And he found out about tax management this morning, since Lan Zhan and Xichen-ge are thinking about lifting the luxury tax on goods from some of the minor sects. But A-Yu thinks taxes are presents for the sect leader, so…”

“One more bao tax for xiao-Lan-zongzhu!” Xiao-Yu says imperiously, holding out his chubby hands. “Ling-gege give, please?”

“That is not polite, Xiao-Yu,” Hanguang-jun scolds, sweeping into the kitchen with A-Yuan and Jingyi behind him and A-Qing bringing up the rear. He lifts Xiao-Yu into his arms and sits him down on the bench next to Zizhen, and then he reaches up for a stack of patterned bowls and passes them around to the others. 

Jin Ling still hasn’t gotten used to eating at the Chief Cultivator’s table, even if Hanguang-jun is technically his uncle now. Sometimes Hanguang-jun even does the cooking, and feeds Wei-dajiu with his own chopsticks while everyone else watches, and then Jin Ling tries to choke himself to death on the bamboo shoots in his yan du xian before deciding that Lanling can’t afford to lose the first decent zongzhu it’s had since his great-grandfather’s time. 

“I wish I was married,” Ouyang Zizhen sighs dreamily, resting his cheek on his hand as Xiao-Yu tries to steal his dumplings next. On his other side, A-Qing’s cheeks flush crimson, and she stares resolutely down at her hands while Hanguang-jun offers her a plate of savory vegetables. “It looks so nice, Wei-qianbei.”

“It is nice,” Wei-dajiui winks—and oh, gross, because Hanguang-jun is blushing now, and staring at Wei Wuxian as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world. “Marrying Lan Zhan is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Mm,” Hanguang-jun says quietly, putting a heaping spoonful of potato congee into his husband’s bowl. “Wei Ying is the best thing that happened to me, too.”

Ouyang Zizhen wails. 

“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?”

“What, you want an arranged marriage?” Wei-dajiu frowns. “ I never went through the process myself—” and Hanguang-jun reaches out and squeezes Wei-dajiu’s waist, as if even thinking about Wei-dajiu seeing a matchmaker was too much— “and I don’t really know anyone who did, since Yunmeng’s a lot freer about these things. Are you sure, Jingyi?”

“I’m not asking for a matchmaker,” Jingyi says, tossing his long ponytail over his shoulder. “I want to know what to look for if my love of a lifetime comes along. So what were you looking for?”

“Nothing when I was your age, A-Yi. I thought I would spend my whole life at Lotus Pier, and marry one of the shijies or shimeis who liked me. But then I met Lan Zhan, and…”

And then his ideal became Hanguang-jun, Jin Ling finishes, chewing on a mouthful of mustard greens. Everyone knows that, Jingyi!

Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t end there. It goes on for the better part of an hour, and all through the course of coconut pudding Hanguang-jun made for dessert, and Jin Ling can’t even leave because that would be rude, and the food is too good to pass up even if Ouyang Zizhen wants to ask about kissing now.

“How old is old enough to have your first kiss?” he inquires, while Lan Sizhui giggles into his hands and elbows Zizhen to make him stop. “I’m sixteen, so is that too young?”

“I was thirty-eight when I first kissed Wei Ying,” Hanguang-jun says dryly. “I would advise patience, unless Ouyang-gongzi already has a beloved one in mind.”

Jin Ling wants to die. Why is his extended family like this?

“Pudding tax,” Xiao-Yu announces from his lap. “Ling-gege, can A-Yu have a bite?”

“I’m Sect Leader Jin, though. I don’t have to pay you taxes.”

Xiao-Yu gives him a serious little nod before turning to Sizhui. “Yuan-gege, pay pudding taxes.”

“You’ve had enough pudding,” Sizhui scolds; and indeed, the dishes are mostly empty now, except for the serving bowls in the middle of the table. “Come on, A-Yu. Let’s go visit the rabbits.”

They end up at the rabbit field about ten minutes later, after Jingyi and Sizhui help Hanguang-jun with the dishes. Jin Ling thinks it must make a very strange picture: after all, one doesn’t often see three Lan juniors, one Ouyang sect heir, one Jin sect leader, and one Lan baby lying in the grass with bunnies climbing over them. But the peace and quiet is beautifully welcome after the political unrest in Lanling and the dog food in Wei-dajiu’s tiny kitchen, so Jin Ling closes his eyes and settles down for a nap with a small white rabbit on his chest. 

“I think Shufu was right,” he hears A-Qing say. “There’s no point in having a list of requirements. Look at what happened to Jiang-zongzhu.”

“His first list was terrible, though,” Zizhen objects. “And he’s going to be married by next spring, so it worked for him in the end. After he fixed his requirements, I mean.”

“Gossipping is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Sizhui says tranquilly. “And what Father meant was that having a list means you might miss your fated one when they come along, so it’s best to think about what you want, instead of what your beloved should be.”

“I’d like it if my wife liked to eat my cooking,” sighs Zizhen—he’s an excellent cook, too, and Jin Ling knows for a fact that A-Qing’s favorite food is the shrimp and water spinach Zizhen’s mother taught him to make. “Then I could cook, and she could wash our children’s hands and bring them to the kitchen when I was done, and we would all eat together.”

“I think I’d like a husband who knew how to do my hair,” A-Qing says, not even trying to be subtle. Jin Ling has seen the combs Zizhen keeps giving her, even if they’re far too young for a courtship, and Zizhen is always the first to offer assistance whenever A-Qing’s hair falls out of its bun. “Even a plain bun is too hard for me, since my hair’s so bushy.”

Zizhen nearly drops his rabbit. “Oh,” he whispers, blushing so hard that his neck turns red. “That’s good!”

Jin Ling wants to die. He can’t stand visiting Lotus Pier because his jiujiu is obviously courting, even if he won’t say he is, and now he’s going to have to watch A-Qing and Zizhen flirt until Zewu-jun and Ouyang-zongzhu give them permission to get married. 

“What about you, Jingyi?”

“Huh? Oh, I want to marry someone who won’t mind how loud I am,” Jingyi shrugs. “Or someone even louder than me, so we can make trouble together. A-Yuan?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually,” Sizhui sighs. “I’m Zewu-jun’s heir, so I have to get married, but I’m not sure if I want to.”

A moment of silence. 

“Then you won’t have to,” Jin Ling says. Everyone stares at him. “Zewu-jun didn’t get married, and Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have if Wei-dajiu didn’t come back to life. You can just choose an heir born to one of your cousins, since Jingyi was going to inherit the sect before Hanguang-jun adopted you.”

The others swoop in to assure Sizhui that no one’s going to make him get married, and Jin Ling folds his arms behind his head and wonders if his biao-ge could possibly be like Zewu-jun: a yi xin yi shen, whole in heart and body, who eschewed marriage in favor of cultivation. It would explain a lot, Jin Ling thinks, because even he knows what it feels like when someone makes his heart beat fast and his face turn pink, and Sizhui’s never felt that way. 

(Jin Ling tries not to think of Nie-zongzhu’s hot-tempered archivist, who knocked him into the dust with her saber the last time he visited Qinghe and then told him he had pretty eyes. Nie Shiyong is a few years older than him, and he usually ends up nursing several new bruises each time he meets her, but Jin Ling is man enough to admit to himself that he likes her. Maybe.)

“Xiao-Yu is sleepy,” little A-Yu says, interrupting his embarrassing train of thought before it can go any further. “Yuan-gege, I have a nap?”

“You can just sleep here,” Jingyi suggests. “The grass is soft enough, right? And you can use one of us for a pillow.”

“Jingyi,” Sizhui chides, and Jin Ling hears the long grass rustling as his cousin gets to his feet. “Come on, A-Yu. I’ll take you home to A-Niang.”

“No need,” someone else says; and that’s Hanguang-jun’s voice, coming up the hill from the direction of the jingshi. “I am here. A-Yu, come.”

Jin Ling scrambles up to greet his uncle by marriage (sect leader or not, jiujiu would kill him if he greeted the Chief Cultivator from the ground) and then he reels back and blinks in surprise, because Hanguang-jun’s hair is up in a loose braid instead of a half-topknot, and somebody seems to have decorated the braid with a row of half-bloomed lotus flowers. 

“Wei Ying did it,” Hanguang-jun says, with a small, soft smile that makes Sizhui and the others gasp. “He will do the same for your hair, too, if you ask.”

And then he lifts Xiao-Yu up into his arms and carries him away, leaving Jin Ling still frozen mid-bow with Jingyi and Zizhen gaping behind him.

“I think what Hanguang-jun meant is that the first requirement for marriage is love,” Lan Sizhui remarks, when Jin Ling finally snaps his mouth shut. “And that no matter what we want, or think we want, we shouldn’t settle for less.”

(Jin Ling is the first of his friends to marry, and he never forgets his biao-ge’s advice until the end of his days.)

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #jin ling #my fic

[fallinnflower]

keep the sunshine (in my heart)

minghao x reader (university!au, trip!au, fluff)

wc: 7k

a/n: this has been in the works for far too long. everyone pokes fun at mingyu but out of love. title based on the song “summer’s gone” by ashmute which i highly recommend. i once again attempted not to gender the reader but they do have long hair idk. this was posted twice before but tags didn’t work so it’s being posted again and hopefully it works now lol

The first time you meet Minghao, you're getting a piggyback ride from Mingyu because your walk on the beach ended with one of your sandals breaking irreparably. Thankfully, there are plenty of shops ready to sell you a new pair — once they open for the day. You'd forced Mingyu out to see the sunrise with you on this first day of vacation before the gaggle of friends you'd both invited showed up and made the house party central. He said this was just karma.

Your tall friend is walking with an exaggerated sway, and you squeeze your arms around his neck tighter.

"Yah, Kim Mingyu!" You snap, blowing at a strand of hair that fell in front of your eye. "Walk normally, I'm getting motion sick, you punk."

"You don't get motion sick, Y/N," Mingyu replies, and you huff in annoyance because he's right. Leave it to Mingyu to remember the stupidest things about you. As you're about to tell him to put you down, you'll just walk with one foot bare, he comes to an abrupt stop. You peer over the top of his head, eyebrows furrowed, but can't see anything notable. More people are on the beach, but you don't see anyone important.

You lift one arm to poke at Mingyu's cheek—

Suddenly, your friend starts running back towards the coast, leaving you to redouble your grip. You let out an awful screeching sound, cursing directly into his ear, but he pays you no mind.

"Minghao!" he yells. A lanky guy in a denim jacket who's squatting in the sand with a camera pointed at the horizon turns towards you both. His expression remains decidedly nonplussed as Mingyu continues barreling down the beach towards him like an excited puppy. As soon as Mingyu stops, you start pounding on his chest.

"Put me down, you maniac!" He lets go of your legs and stoops a bit to let you off his back. You grumble and begin tying your hair back into a ponytail, barely sparing his friend a glance.

"You're early," Mingyu says, totally delighted at the sight of his friend. Minghao lets his camera fall against his chest as he stands, nodding.

"Yeah, I decided I wanted to take some photos. I haven't gone to the house yet." His sharp gaze travels over to you, squinting slightly against the early morning sunlight.

"You must be Y/N."

"The one and only," you reply, ducking your head. "I hear you're Mingyu's smartest friend. Well, aside from me."

The Chinese boy smirks, snorting slightly at your comment.

"Well, if you're headed to the house then we'll just go with you. Then Y/N can change into some different shoes," Mingyu snickers, and you swat at his arm.

You take off your sandals, following the boys as they start up to the beach towards the house.

"Wasn't Jun coming with you?" Mingyu asks.

"He decided to drive himself. He wasn't done packing yet."

"Sounds like him," he laughs. "I'll just test my cooking on the two of you tonight then."

"And what's on the menu, Chef Mingyu?" You ask, poking him in the ribs. Minghao chuckles as Mingyu swats your hand away.

"If you keep acting like this, then all you'll get is ramen."

"You say that like it's a punishment," you retort.

"Depends on how much he's making," Minghao chimes in, leaning forward to look around Mingyu at you.

"Maybe I won't make you dinner at all!" Mingyu huffs, though his pout dissipates quickly when confronted with both yours and Minghao's laughter. As the Chinese boy shoots you a conspiratorial smile, you can't help but think that you like having someone like him around.

The three of you spend the evening together, preparing the house for the others to come tomorrow. You turn in relatively early, all sufficiently exhausted from the previous day.

After how yesterday morning had gone, you opted to go out to the beach on your own in the morning. Over the course of your years working and going to school you'd gotten into the habit of waking up early, especially when in unfamiliar places, so you were up shortly before the dawn.

You're putting on your spare shoes by the door when suddenly someone else starts down the stairs.

"Morning," you call, not looking up. The voice that replies surprises you into looking back, startled when you find Minghao grinning down at you.

"You're up early," you say, standing up and running a hand through your hair. Minghao looks exceptionally stylish, especially in comparison to you in your tank top and ratty shorts. His camera is still slung around his neck, and he motions to it as he replies.

"I wanted more photos of the sunrise. The forecast for today looked promising."

"Well," you reply, watching as he puts on his own shoes. "I'm not much of a photographer, but we could always go for breakfast after. If you don't mind me tagging along, that is."

"Sure." His response is cool, but his eyes seem to light up a bit at your offer. With that, the two of you head out the door.

The walk to the beach isn't far, and it's spent in surprisingly comfortable silence. You had expected Minghao to be more intimidating, but he seems relaxed as you make your way down the sandy sidewalk to the shore. The breeze is almost chilly, the coastline quiet with all the seabirds still sleeping. You can't help but cast glances at the boy beside you as you walk, noticing once again how attractive he looks. Even in such a casual setting, he's gorgeous, practically a work of art, his brown bangs gently ruffling in the wind. Catching a glimpse of his camera, you think that if you were any kind of photographer you would rather take photos of Minghao instead of the sunrise. He seems like a rarer kind of beauty in your eyes.

As the two of you walk, you're content to follow his lead. The sunrise is pretty from anywhere to you, but Minghao seems to have an artist's vision — so you decide to trust his judgement, especially since the window for his work is so briefly open.

He pauses for a moment when you both step into the sand, and you halt a few steps later. His brows are furrowed as he looks off into the distance, and you cock your head to the side.

"What's up?"

"I think we should head to the pier," he says.

"Fine by me," you shrug. "There's a restaurant over there." Minghao rolls his eyes at the playful grin you give him before nodding and leading the way once more.

The tide is gentle, the waves rolling in slow and short. Once you near the pier and Minghao finally settles into a place to take photos, you find yourself wandering towards the water. You may not have an eye for photography, but you've always loved collecting seashells.

As the waves continue rolling in, you find yourself wishing your sandals hadn't broken, trying to dodge the water so as not to ruin your sneakers.

You find a small handful of shells as you wander, none that are particularly extraordinary but a couple that look very similar with holes in them. You make your way back up the beach to Minghao, dropping into a squat beside him and holding one of those two similar looking shells out in each of your palms.

"Which do you like more?" you ask, and Minghao turns his gaze to you, though he keeps his camera pointed at the horizon. His brows furrow in concentration, and you find yourself amused by how seriously he's taking it. It's actually a bit heartwarming.

"The one in your left hand." You hum and place the shell atop his knee nearest to you, smiling.

"A token of our newfound friendship," you explain, turning your body to look out where his camera is pointed. "They'd make good necklaces."

"How fashion-forward of you," he says drily, but you catch him putting the shell in his pocket with a smile nonetheless.

After getting what he seems to deem a sufficient number of photos, he puts the lens cap back on his camera and stands, offering you a hand to help you.

"You said there was a restaurant by the pier?" he asks as you brush the sand off your shorts. His hand lingers in yours for a moment too long, but you try not to think too much of it — maybe he's still just tired.

"Yep," you jerk your chin towards the point where the wood of the pier meets the asphalt. "It's on the base of the pier."

"Lead the way."

You do. Soon enough the two of you are seated on the pier, overlooking the ocean with two steaming mugs of coffee between you and waiting on breakfast platters. The restaurant is otherwise pretty empty; you imagine it isn't exactly prime time, but it makes it all the better for you. Minghao has set his camera on the table and is leaning back in his chair, both of you looking out across the ocean.

"I think the view is better from here," you muse, chin propped in your hand. Minghao responds with a hum, then, lowly,

"Yeah, I agree." You turn and find him staring at you, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips, but before you can say anything your food suddenly arrives.

The moment you can see and smell it in front of you, you realize just how hungry you are. Forgetting any possible pretense of manners, you dig in hurriedly, shoveling a forkful of French toast eagerly into your mouth. Minghao chuckles, though he looks away in mock surrender when you shoot him a pointed look.

The two of you finish breakfast just in time for some of the shops to open, and so you resolve to buy yourself a new pair of sandals. Although you told Minghao he didn't have to accompany you, he decides to do so nonetheless, holding the door open for you as you enter one of the many shops on the main road.

You're in the middle of perusing sandals when suddenly you feel a slight pressure on your head. You turn in confusion only to find Minghao laughing under his breath, fixing a bucket hat onto his head. It's a faux denim number, ridiculous but not awful, and yet you can tell he hasn't been so kind to you. You glare at him as you pull your own bucket hat off, though even you can't hold back a snort of laughter when you see the ridiculous design. You reach up and pull Minghao's hat off his head, replacing it with the green frog hat, giggling as you look at the tiny little eyes sticking off the top.

"Mm, that's more like it," you say. "I think you should get it."

Minghao laughs and turns towards a small mirror near the sunglasses display messing with his bangs under the brim of the hat.

"Maybe I will." You laugh and turn back to the shoes. You finally find a plain black pair in your size, though when you turn you find Minghao laughing at something once more, with his back to you.

"What?" You ask, peering around him curiously. He shuffles off to the side, pointing out a bucket hat with ramen printed all over it.

"We have to get it," you say, looking over at him. Minghao shakes his head, turning the corners of his mouth down in an attempt to hide his obvious smile. You nudge him with your elbow until he finally breaks into an open-mouthed grin.

"If we don't get him a hat, he'll feel left out," you continue, and he sighs.

"Fine, fine."

By the time the two of you make it back to the house, Mingyu has woken up and is on his second cup of coffee. He offers a relatively lazy greeting when you enter, sprawled across the couch. You walk over and shove his feet off, making a space for yourself as Mingyu grumbles under his breath. Minghao rounds the couch and places the hat on Mingyu’s head, only for the taller boy to immediately pull it off and take a look. He laughs and places it back on his head, and Minghao takes a seat.

"Any word from Jun?" you ask, reaching for the television remote. Mingyu shrugs, gulping down more coffee before responding,

"He texted a few minutes ago that he’s on the road, but that's it. Anything from the girls?"

"Yeri had a final this morning, but I think it's finishing up around ten or something."

"So we're on our own for lunch, is what I'm hearing," Minghao says, and both you and Mingyu nod. After a moment of watching TV mindlessly, you suddenly turn to Mingyu again.

"Do we need to do anything before they get here? Like, grocery shopping or anything?" The mere mention of errands causes Mingyu to slump further into the couch, as you reach over to swat his arm, rolling your eyes.

"Not now, you're no use without enough caffeine in you. Once you've entered the land of the living, I mean." Mingyu huffs at your comment, taking another sip of his coffee before responding. He also takes the opportunity to drape his legs across your lap, and you roll your eyes and pinch his calves in an effort to get him to move.

"Yah," he says, pulling his legs away with a whine. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

"We should get seafood while we're here," you say, then fix your gaze on Minghao. "What's a seafood dish you like?" The Chinese boy looks startled for a moment, but quickly settles into a more thoughtful expression.

"Maeuntang?"

"Ohh, I love stew," you say, turning your gaze to Mingyu. You give him your best puppy dog eyes, but are met with his hand extended in front of your face.

"Stop looking at me like that, it's creepy."

"It's supposed to be cute!" you pout, moving his hand. "If I stop, will you make the stew?"

"Yes," he sighs, putting his hand down.

"Thank you!" you squeal, upping the cuteness to a level you know your friend will hate. He quickly pulls his legs off of you as he wedges himself into the far corner of the couch.

"Stop," he whines. "Did you have too much sugar or something? Minghao, help me!"

"You're on your own," Minghao responds drily, and you finally relent, using the opportunity to bring your legs up onto the couch instead. Mingyu shoots you a scandalized, hurt look.

"You're mean."

"Only to my bestest friends," you coo, reaching over to pinch Mingyu's cheek. The boy huffs in annoyance, slumping against the arm of the couch and bringing his mug back up to his lips.

"How long have you two known each other, again?" Minghao asks, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"Too long—"

"Our whole lives," you say at the same time, cutting Mingyu off. "He's like the brother I never had."

"You're annoying," he grumbles, and you laugh, pinching his cheeks again and forcing him to smile.

"Says the one who followed me to college." Mingyu's ears begin turning red, and you ruffle his hair with an ever-widening grin.

"Just because you got your acceptance letter first doesn't mean I followed you."

"I don't know," Minghao chimes in, leaning forward in his seat. "Y/N makes a pretty convincing case."

"I thought you were supposed to be my friend," Mingyu grumbles, giving Minghao an accusatory look as he squirms out of your arms. There's a resounding thump as he slips off the couch and lands on the floor. He picks up his mug off the coffee table and downs the rest of its contents in one swig before sighing and getting up,

"I'm going to the grocery store."

"Want help?" Minghao asks, starting to rise from his seat, and Mingyu hurriedly shakes his head.

"No! Just stay here and then help me carry the bags in when I'm back."

"Fine," you say, as you cross the room to sit beside Minghao on the loveseat. You sling an arm around the Chinese boy's shoulders,

"I'll just stay here and hang out with my new best friend."

"You're so mean!" Mingyu calls, then slips out the front door, leaving you and Minghao to chuckle in his wake. You retract your arm and lean into the corner of the seat, stretching your neck slightly. Minghao fixes you with his sharp, inquisitive gaze, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Do you always give him such a hard time?" You immediately laugh at his question.

"Always," you confirm. "Unless it's really serious, you know? I mean it when I say he's like the brother I've never had. I give him a hard time but, like, I'd fuck someone up for him."

Minghao laughs again, leaning into the opposite corner of the loveseat. He runs one graceful hand through his hair, the strands falling back into his eyes immediately.

"Yeah," he says. Then, in a softer tone of voice, gaze drifting out the window. You find yourself smiling as you look at Minghao, studying his profile for a moment. After a beat of silence he speaks up again.  

"He's lucky to have you in his life." Your grin immediately widens,

"Damn right he is."

Later, when you've both settled into your own little routines to pass the time, you find yourself thinking — he hadn't said someone like you. He'd just said you. And you may be overthinking it, but it makes your heart flutter, nonetheless.

Jun arrives in the early afternoon having stopped for lunch along the way, and by the time he’s exiting the car Joy and Yeri are pulling into the driveway behind him. You throw your phone down onto the couch and run to the door to greet everyone, waving excitedly. Jun, despite not knowing you very well, is the first to run up and accept your hug, the girls quickly joining in to make it a group endeavor. With a sigh you let go of them all, ushering them into the house.

"Mingyu, be a man and carry the bags in," you say, linking arms with Joy and Jun, Yeri clinging to the former. Mingyu takes a step back to avoid the chain of people flooding through the door.

"I'm not the only man here!"

"Then be the manliest man," Jun jokes. Minghao waves from the stairs, laughing as he watches the four of you trying to maintain your chain as you take your shoes off.

"Where's Mingyu?" Minghao asks.

"Proving his worth," you reply, earning a laugh from him.

"Who am I sharing a room with?" Jun asks, and you shrug.

"Don't know, but it's not me. I paid for that master room!" you say.

"I'm calling dibs on Joy as my roommate!" Yeri chimes in, and you roll your eyes.

"That was the plan anyways, Yeri—"

"I know, I just needed to make sure everyone else knew it!"

As the four of you make your way into the living room, laughing and chattering, Minghao makes the rest of his way down the stairs.

"Need help?"

"Yes!" Mingyu cries, dragging the luggage through the doorway. Minghao chuckles and takes a suitcase in each hand, making his way back into the house.

"Alright, baggage claim is in the dining room," Minghao calls, and as he comes into the living room you watch the others leave. You flop onto the carpeted floor, staring at the ceiling as you listen to their footsteps eventually making their way upstairs.

"Resting after a hard day's work, I see."

"Shh." You press a finger to your lips, closing your eyes as you hear Minghao take a seat beside you. "I took care of the booking and planning, Mingyu does the manual labor. Fair trade."

"Mm. A match made in heaven." You scrunch your nose up in disgust, opening your eyes to fix the lanky boy with an accusatory glare,

"That makes it sound romantic. Try again." Minghao raises an eyebrow, letting out a laugh,

"Teamwork makes the dream work?"

"Better," you say with a nod. It seems as though Minghao is about to say something else, but suddenly Joy calls down the stairs,

"Are you guys going swimming with us?" You look over at Minghao as you sit up, offering a shrug.

"When in Rome," you say, more to him than to Joy. You stand up from your seat on the floor and shoot Joy a thumbs up; she flashes you a broad smile before running back up the stairs. Although Minghao hadn't done more than smile amusedly at your statement, you hear him behind you as you leave the living room — although you simply head down the hallways to your room while he goes upstairs.

After changing into your swimsuit you make your way out onto the porch to slather on sunscreen. Given your prime location and the fact that you've already unpacked all your things, you manage to be the first one out, followed shortly by Minghao and Mingyu.

"Get my back?" you ask, holding the tube out to the first person on the porch. Mingyu eyes it.

"Only if you get mine."

"Deal." Minghao lingers by the door, and you wave him over in front of you, squeezing sunscreen into your palm before passing the tube to Mingyu.

Although you had waved him over like it was nothing, you felt almost immediately embarrassed touching Minghao so casually. It isn't exactly a regular occurrence for you, putting sunscreen on a boy's back.

A cute boy's back.

You try not to think about it too much as you rub the sunscreen in, but when Minghao curls his shoulders forward slightly to make the plane of his back more flat and even for you, you find yourself mesmerized by the way his skin glistens under the bright sunshine. His skin is a warm but light tone, like honey in color and just as smooth. You hesitate for a moment, hands lingering near his shoulder blades, only shaken from your stupor when Mingyu announces that he's done and needs someone to do his back. Hurriedly, you clear your throat, rubbing the last of the sunscreen into Minghao's back in quick circles.

"Done," you announce, softer than you meant to. You barely see Minghao's grateful smile before turning around to Mingyu, trying desperately to hide the blush rising on your cheeks. Maybe you can just blame it on the sun…

Thankfully, the porch is soon crowded with the rest of your friends, all laughing and talking. Joy pulls her hair up into a bun and turns her back to you expectantly almost as soon as you finish with Mingyu's back, and although you roll your eyes you oblige.

Once all of you are properly covered with sunscreen — a fact which Mingyu is sure to double check before letting you all off the porch — you make your way down the beach.

The back porch leads off directly into the sand, although the path to the beach itself is too narrow for you all to walk in anything other than a single file line. That, of course, doesn't stop the conversation from flowing between you all as you follow Mingyu's lead down to the beach. You find yourself acutely aware of Minghao directly behind you, suddenly conscious even of the way you walked, wondering what his sharp gaze might notice about you.

You're snapped out of these thoughts once again by Mingyu — although this time it's out of reflex. Being his friend so long has made you finely attuned to his clumsy ways, and you register him tripping over his own flip flops almost before it even happens, quickly reaching out to grab his elbow. At first, you're so focused on saving your friend from falling flat on his face that you don't notice someone has taken hold of you as well, helping to provide a counterweight for you and your much taller friend.

Mingyu rights himself and chuckles awkwardly under the teasing remarks, flashing you a grateful smile. You glance back at Minghao just as he pulls his hand away.

"Thanks," you say, feeling oddly bashful. Minghao sweeps his windswept bangs out of his eyes, smiling.

"No problem." You stare for a moment too long before nodding and scrambling to catch up with Mingyu just a few steps away, trying to convince yourself that your heart is racing because Mingyu almost broke his nose and not because of a sudden, stupid crush.

It doesn't quite work, but your splashing match with Joy and Yeri takes your mind off of it at least.

The first afternoon with everyone at the beach house is spent in a relaxed state; after returning from the beach, almost everyone took showers and then naps. Unable to sleep, you simply sprawled out on the couch in the living room with a glass of tea and your laptop in your lap. With your earbuds in, just in case anyone decided they wanted to use the television, you caught up on some recent videos you had missed in the bustle of the past couple of days.

It isn’t until you’ve exhausted your YouTube subscription tab that you find yourself becoming restless, eager for something to do. You go into your room for your wallet, thinking it might be nice to get some ice cream and just walk along the beach, and then you spot the shell from earlier sitting on the top of the dresser beside it. You examine the hole in it once more, smiling as you remember your morning with Minghao. On a moment of impulse, you start digging through your bag until you finally find the necklaces you had packed — or, well, left in the bag from your last trip and hadn’t bothered to put away. You unclasp them both and let the pendants slip off the chains, replacing one with the shell and clasping the other closed again; the other chain you let pool atop the dresser, fully intending to give it to Minghao later.

Only to find said boy standing outside the door to your bedroom, one fist raised in preparation to knock. The two of you jump slightly at the sight of the other, but you quickly dissolve into laughter with Minghao following shortly behind.

“Hey,” you say. “I thought you were napping.” He shakes his head.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies. “So I was hoping you’d want to go for a walk.”

“Perfect timing,” you chirp. “I was about to go get some ice cream, care to tag along?” Minghao’s expression slips into a grin, and he chuckles,

“Sure, why not.”

He’s already turned and started towards the front door when you remember the chain on your dresser, and you quickly duck back into your room to retrieve it.

“Wait!” you call, and Minghao does so, looking back at you with a puzzled expression. “Do you still have the shell from earlier?” An amused smile once again makes its way across his face as he notices the chain in your hands.

“Yeah, I think so.” After fishing around in the pocket of his jeans, he brandishes the shell. You eagerly hold out your hands for it, passing him the new jewelry item with pride.

“There, now we can match!” You hook your thumb under your own shell to show Minghao, who only chuckles and shakes his head. However, you think you see a faint wash of pink across his cheeks, even though his hair hides some of his face from you as he looks around for his shoes. You watch him for a moment longer, unable to keep from smiling, before finding your own sandals and slipping them on — only to realize you left your phone in your room.

“I’ll be right back!”

As you dart back to your bedroom, Minghao takes the chain and wraps it twice around his wrist, fashioning it into a bracelet. After pulling the shell around to rest atop his wrist, he pulls out his own phone and snaps a picture of it in front of the window, smiling fondly at the image once he’s cropped it and adjusted the coloring. By the time he’s pocketed his phone, you’ve re-emerged with your own. You slip on your shoes again and offer him a breathless grin,

“Ready?”

“Yeah, my treat,” he says, grinning to himself in amusement as he listens to you whine as you follow him out the door.

“Good morning!” you hear from behind you as you’re putting on your shoes. Just the sound of Minghao’s voice is enough to bring a smile to your face as you stand back up fully.

“Do you ever sleep?” Minghao asks teasingly as he makes the rest of his way down the stairs. You shrug,

“What’s the point of a beach-house if you’re not taking walks on the beach?”

“Or photos,” he adds. You step aside to give Minghao room to put his shoes on, shoving your hands in your pockets. While you wait, you lean back and peer out the windows bordering the front door, smiling when you see that the skies are still relatively dark. The two of you will make it out to the coast just in time to see the sunrise. You rock back on your heels as Minghao stands up, opening the door and motioning for him to lead the way.

It’s quiet as you stroll down the driveway of the house, with even the birds remaining quiet prior to the dawn. Minghao’s camera thumps gently against his chest in tandem with his feet falling on the pavement. As the two of you make your way onto the sand towards the water, you let out a sigh and let your gaze fall on the waves.

“You know, it’s kinda nice to have someone to walk with,” you say.

“Is that your way of saying you like my company, Y/N?” Minghao’s grin is annoyingly smug, and you elbow him slightly, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t get too excited,” you say. “Mingyu still has years over you.” He laughs into the wind, and you watch as he begins to slow his steps, looking for a good place to sit down and take photos. You follow him halfway down the coast before he finally stops in his tracks, squinting out at the sea before finally dropping into a squat. You stand beside him, trying to pick out exactly what he’s taking photos of like a game.

However, after barely becoming settled, your hair starts getting in your face, with the wind seeming to change directions every few seconds rendering it impossible for you to keep it out of your eyes. The only sound to disrupt that of the natural seaside is the shutter of Minghao's camera. As your hair once again whips against your eyes, blocking your view, you let out a frustrated grumble and stoop down behind the Chinese boy. He turns curiously to look at you as you bow your head, and you nudge him,

"Stay put and block the wind for me." You rake your fingers down through the strands, twirling them up into a haphazard bun. With a contented sigh you drop back off your heels to sit in the sand beside Minghao. He grins crookedly at you, eyes curved up into amused crescents.

"What?" You ask, noticing his gaze.

"Your hair's a mess," he says. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can manage to form a word Minghao has let his camera fall back against his chest. His long, slender fingers suddenly reach towards your face, gently tucking some hair behind your ears. As his fingertips skim against your jaw you find yourself falling breathless. Minghao leans back, dipping his chin in a nod of satisfaction at his work. You clear your throat and look back out towards the sea, hoping the light of the rising sun masks your blush.

"It was because of the wind," you grumble. Then, after hearing Minghao's shutter go off once again you mutter, "Thanks."

Out of the corner of your eye you see Minghao smiling smugly, and so you shove him with your elbow — though you yourself can't keep a smile off your face. You draw your knees to your chest and cross your arms atop them, dropping your chin atop them.

With a long breath you close your eyes, the backs of your eyelids burning redder than the sunlight on the sea—

And with them closed you don't see where Minghao's camera is suddenly pointed when the shutter goes off, leaving him smiling to himself as he looks at the image.

"We should order a pizza," Joy says, lying back on the living room floor. The half-open window lets the evening breeze into the house, and you watch the fan spinning in lazy circles above your heads.

"Ooh, and beer! Do we have beer?" Yeri chimes in, looking towards you. You shrug and jerk your chin towards Mingyu.

"Ask the chef," you say, earning a playful glare from him.

“Fine by me!” Mingyu pipes up, “You all have bottomless pits for stomachs anyways, feeding you is a hassle.”

“But you still love us, right?” Jun asks, and you bat your lashes exaggeratedly at Mingyu,

“Yeah, you still love us, right, mom?”

“Shut up, no child of mine would behave like you do. Or be as ugly,” Mingyu whines, throwing a pillow in your direction. You catch it with a laugh, wrinkling your nose in amusement.

“Mm, you’re right — with your genetics, they’d be even uglier.” Joy and Yeri break into giggles at your words, Jun following suit and Minghao snickering alongside them. Your best friend glares at everyone in the room, folding his arms across his chest with a huff.

“You guys are gonna have to order pizza every night from now on! Such ungrateful children.”

“Alright, someone find a local place that delivers!” Yeri demands, clapping her hands together as everyone continues to laugh at Mingyu’s expense. Minghao pats his shoulder, still chuckling however, as Joy lifts her phone above her face announcing,

“On it!”

The next few minutes pass in a whirlwind of chatter, everyone pitching in their ideas about what pizzas should be ordered until finally your group settles on three — and play through multiple rounds of rock-paper-scissors to determine who’s going to get the beer.

“Here, Mingyu, here’s the money — remember, at least four packs, okay?”

“I hate you all!” he grumbles, but he shoves the money in his pocket regardless as all of you swarm around him, forcing him out the door.

It’s only once you’re all at least a few drinks deep, reclining in the living room full with your stomachs full of pizza, that Yeri suddenly sits up from where she’d been leaning against Joy’s shoulder and makes the animated suggestion:

“We should play truth or dare!” When nobody disagrees with her, she picks up her half-empty bottle of beer and downs the rest before setting it down on its side in front of her. The rest of you shuffle into an approximation of a circle, lopsided and elliptical at best, watching intently as Yeri spins the bottle for the first time.

It lands on Mingyu, who’s still sober enough to take one look at Yeri’s devious grin and choose truth. The game goes on for what seems like forever, and by the time it’s Yeri’s turn to spin again your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much. Breathlessly, you lean against Minghao’s side and watch the bottle spin around, ooh-ing dramatically with the rest of your friends when it lands on Joy.

“Dare,” Joy says without even being asked, looking confidently at Yeri. The youngest grins with the same degree of confidence, smugly announcing,

“I dare you to stare into the eyes of the most attractive person here for as long as possible without reacting!” Your drunken selves all lean in to see Joy’s reaction, which is in exaggerated pout.

“How am I supposed to compete with myself?”

“Yah!” Yeri cries, swatting at the tall girl’s shoulder as Joy dissolves into laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Joy finally says, pushing at Yeri’s hands. “Since you came up with it, why don’t we compete?” Yeri tips her chin up confidently, and you scramble for your phone as the two girls shift so they’re facing one another.

“I have the timer,” you say, before counting down for the competition to start. Barely fifteen seconds pass before Joy begins to slip into a smile, causing your small group to break into disappointed groans.

“Come on, did you even try?” Mingyu laments, and Joy narrows her eyes at him,

“Are you saying you could do better?”

“Anyone could do better!” you chime in, and both Joy and Mingyu turn to you.

“Then let’s all try it,” Yeri suggests, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Everyone find a partner, and we’ll each have a timer. Losers have to clean up!”

You turn to look at Minghao who’s seated beside you, and he offers you a smile as the both of you reposition yourselves. Joy demands a rematch against Yeri, leaving Jun and Mingyu as partners. Once everyone has their stopwatches at the ready and poker faces on, the competition begins, the only sound in the room is the faint music you’d almost forgotten was playing off the smart TV. A new music video starts up as you stare into Minghao’s eyes, and you find yourself lost in the swirls of color reflected there, the bright reflections from the television making his eyes kaleidoscopic.

It’s Jun and Mingyu who end up losing, with Jun taking advantage of Mingyu’s obvious embarrassment by leaning in closer and closer to the tall boy until he falls onto his back on the floor.

“Yah, why were you so close to me?” Your best friend cries, and you bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to keep from smiling. It proves futile, however, once Jun begins laughing, and you find yourself giggling. You catch a glimpse of Minghao’s smile as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. He shifts his opposite arm to tap the stop button on the stopwatch app, and silence falls over the room once more for a few seconds. With your eyes closed, you focus on the rhythm of Minghao’s breathing, all other sounds slipping away.

Joy’s victorious cries eventually cause you to lift your head, and you turn to watch her as she excitedly announces the new time — just over one minute. Yeri pouts as Jun affectionately pats her head, and you notice Mingyu is still lying down, one arm laid over his eyes. You lie down on your side, snickering when you see through the gap that his eyes are closed; he’d managed to fall asleep. Of course, being his best friend, you’re quick to point out to everyone that he’s totally passed out, prompting Jun to sneak towards the kitchen in search of a marker. Joy and Yeri follow in search of more beer from the fridge, and you roll onto your back, watching the shadows play across the ceiling for a moment as Minghao stands up to stretch his back and legs. You hear the gentle fluttering of the curtains and feel overcome with a sudden desire to see the ocean once again. Looking up at the Chinese boy, you can’t help but smile, and make the decision to take him along on your little field trip.

"I need fresh air," you declare before rolling onto your stomach and pushing yourself up onto your knees. You hear Minghao huff out a laugh under his breath as he reaches a hand down to help you up, which you accept. The room tilts slightly, and you let out a short laugh as you lean into him, forcing him to bear your weight as he leads you out the back door. Although you’re sure he expects you to stay on the porch, you move immediately towards the stairs. You jump down into the sand, laughing as the grains seem to spring up around your feet. Minghao follows behind you, less energetically. Eventually, you both sit down a few yards from the house, in view of the waves.

You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your crossed arms. The night air is humid as it rolls off the sea, but not quite warm, leaving your skin feeling sticky yet covered in goosebumps. Out of the corner of your eye you see Minghao pulling out his phone and aiming the camera towards the moon where it shines into the water. You find your gaze drawn to him like the tides to that silvery orb, unable to keep from smiling as you tilt your head to the side. With your cheek pressed against your folded arms you watch him snap photo after photo. After a moment you close your eyes, trying to breathe in time with the waves as they crash along the shore, the only other sound that of Minghao’s phone camera going off intermittently.

"You like taking photos of the beach, don't you?" you say without thinking, cracking one eye open and watching as he pushes his bangs back out of his eyes. Minghao lets out a laugh that's more of a breath than anything,

"I like taking photos of anything beautiful." You giggle, the laughter fading into a sigh as you sprawl out onto your back in the sand. With less alcohol you know that you would be annoyed by the feeling of it sticking to your skin, tangling in your hair — but that's a problem for sober you, morning you. For now, you find yourself content with looking up at the sky. It's cloudless, probably the best view of the stars you've had in years. You can see when Minghao turns his phone off again, plunging you both into darkness.

"Minghao," you say, drawing out the last syllable as far as possible. You like the feeling of saying his name, the openness of it, the smoothness as it rolls off your tongue. The stars above look like they're moving, spinning in lazy circles.

"Hm?"

You watch the spinning stars, laughing a little to yourself. With a sigh, you pull your gaze back down to earth, focusing on Minghao's face. Even with the alcohol in your system, his features are sharp, distinct, attractive.

"I think you're the coolest person I know."

He might be smiling. But before you can say anything more about it, a breeze blows off the water, spewing sand onto your face. You let out a squeal and scramble onto your feet. The sand seems to give way beneath them the moment you stand, but as you dip sideways you find yourself in Minghao's ready arms. He holds onto you for a moment, looking you over for any sign of injuries, and you lock your gaze onto his face. Center yourself. Once he's confident you're not going to keel over, he loosens his grip on you.

"Come on," he says, finally, sighing. "Let's go inside."

Without a word, Minghao takes your hand. Your fingers lace together naturally, and you focus on the warmth of his palm compared to the cool night wind, smiling broadly and unabashedly as you follow him back up onto the porch.

“By the way,” he says, pausing before pulling the sliding door open to let you back in. “I think you’re pretty cool too.” You giggle.

“Is that your way of saying you like me?”

Minghao holds your gaze, and you feel your breath catch in your throat for a moment. But he doesn’t say a word, just gives your hand a squeeze and offers you a playful, mysterious smile before opening the door and pulling you back into the room where Jun is drawing what he calls catstronauts on Mingyu’s arms. As you take a seat, trying not to laugh too loud, Minghao leaves his hand in yours, and the smile remains on your face for the rest of the night.

#caratwritersclub #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop texts #kpop writing #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #my writing

[wonwuism]

Chapter 3.

Tuesday | NYC Institute of the Arts | Rooftop Café17 | 01:47 pm

“I’m not saying tie dye is ugly, I’m just saying there’s a reason it’s never been used in fashion before. Like, ever.”

“Sounds like you just think it’s ugly.”

Wonwoo wasn’t really paying attention to his friends. Whenever Vernon and Minghao started yet another discussion about fashion he usually zoned out into his own thoughts until they decided to let him decide who was right, as if he understood what they were even talking about. There was a good reason that he designed games and they designed clothing.

“Wonwoo what do you think about multi colored clothes?” Wonwoo looked over at his friends and thought for a second.

“Depends. If you’re talking about color blocking, I love it. If you’re asking me if I think Vernons shirt is ugly. I do. I hate it.” Minghao threw his head back in laughter and clapped his hands so loud, people around them started looking where the sound was coming from.

“You’re both assholes, you know that right?” Vernon took an angry bite from his chicken sandwich. Wonwoo chewed on his cheek instead. He wasn’t hungry today. It had been three days since he scribbled his e-mail address on a post it note for Mingyu to take. He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about it so much, but just the thought of Mingyu never actually sending the pictures kept running through his mind. After thinking about it for another five minutes he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hey guys?” The two mouths that had been excitedly talking about their weekend and the weird night out they’d had both shut and his friends shifted their focus on Wonwoo now.

“How long do you think it takes for a photographer to, you know, edit pictures?” Minghao raised his eyebrows in suspicion, since this was so obviously not a Wonwoo kind of question. Vernon, however, never really questioned anything and reacted right away.

“Well, it depends on how many shots they took and how much editing those shots need in terms of photoshop and stuff.”

“They’re just portrait shots of one guy that someone took at the shop. I was wondering when he’s going to e-mail them to me.” Vernon opened his mouth to answer, but Minghao beat him to it. As usual he could see right through Wonwoo as well as Jun did. It was something about his Chinese friends that made it impossible to hide things from them.

“Are you waiting for the pictures or for him to contact you?” It was Vernons turn to raise his eyebrows now and before Wonwoo could even think of an answer, Minghao spoke again.

“You’re usually never impatient, much less when it’s about something you don’t really care about, like, I don’t know, pictures from the flower shop. Spill it Wonwoo, who is this guy.”

Wonwoo let out a breath. They got him. He shouldn’t have asked them about it and just waited it out. Now he was going to tell them all about his dumb crush and they were going to ask him about it all the time. He could feel the panic under his skin, knocking at his bones again, but he calmed himself down. He wasn’t going to let it get to him over something as silly as this. Vernon and Minghao were his friends and even though they didn’t know about his anxiety disorder, they wouldn’t make fun of him for anything. They never judged anyone and they wouldn’t start now.

“Okay, so-“ Two bodies turned his way dramatically. “All I know really, is that his name is Mingyu and that he’s a photographer. He said that the shots were for his portfolio as well as the model’s, so I doubt he’s a professional. Oh and he’s straight.”

“He’s straight?”

“Yeah I know, but I was already kind of crushing on him when he told me that he thinks he doesn’t like guys, so it was a little too late for me to do anything about it.”

Both boys nodded and Wonwoo saw them think about answers to questions he didn’t ask. They were looking for solutions for problems that didn’t exist yet, and even though he loved his friends for it, he didn’t need to hear their two cents on the situation, so he cut them off.

“Don’t worry though, he’ll send the pictures soon and that’ll be the end of it.”

Before another word was said, Wonwoo could see Juliette walk their way. She always walked so lightly, like nothing was weighing her down. Her brown ponytail swung across her back and she seemed to glow in the light that beamed down on the rooftop café. She was the prettiest girl Wonwoo knew. He waved at her to divert attention from his miserable story and all was forgotten when Vernon saw his girlfriend come over.

“Hey guys!” She pecked Vernon’s cheek and took a seat next to him. Vernon looked at her with stars in his eyes for a second and Wonwoo felt a little jealous as usual. Who could blame him though. The two had been in love since they talked for the first time and had been together for 5 years now, still as in love as they’d been that first day. They were the couple that handled their problems before talking to anyone else about them and the kind of couple that got along with each other’s friends well, but still gave each other enough space to live their own lives. They were the kind of couple to sit next to each other after being together for 5 years and still secretly hold hands under the table just because they liked it. It was cute.

“Hey, what’s up? Don’t you have class now?” Vernon asked. She shook her head and made a pouty face. “It got cancelled because miss Claudette fell ill. She’s my favorite teacher though, so I hope she gets better soon. And I really like her class, so I’m a little sad now.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her coffee. “Hey Jules?” It was Minghao. She raised her eyebrows at him and hummed a response.

“Do you know anyone in photography by the name Mingyu?” Wonwoo almost choked on his spit and avoided Vernon’s surprised look to shoot daggers from his eyes at Minghao. Juliette was sweet and he trusted her for sure, but Minghao knew that Wonwoo didn’t like talking about his personal stuff to people.

“Mingyu? Uhhhh Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu… No, I don’t think I know him. There’s a Min-gi, though. Maybe that’s the one you’re looking for?” Minghao turned to look at Wonwoo who shook his head no. “No, it’s definitely Min-gyu. Kim Mingyu, I think.”

“No, I don’t think we have anyone in the photography department with that name, sorry.” She didn’t ask any more information and Wonwoo was glad. She was like Vernon in a way that they were willing to help you as much as you needed them to, but they didn’t push you to tell them more.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not really important anyway. I have to go, though. See you guys around.” He took his own empty cup and other trash off the table to throw it away and the others waved at him before he walked off. He didn’t really have to go. He was just leaving because they were talking about him too much for his liking. Wonwoo knew that they were just going to continue without him now, but as long as he wasn’t there to hear it, he didn’t really mind.

Wonwoo debated on whether to go home or to the flower shop to work on his project, but a text from Jihoon already decided for him.

Jihoon: I’m in WOOZI mode

He chuckled. Whenever he got that text he knew what time it was. Jihoon was in a huge producing flow and was making magic in their room. WOOZI was the name he produced under and this simple text let Wonwoo know not to come home for a while to not disturb the process. Some people would’ve thought it’s annoying not to be able to go home, but Wonwoo didn’t mind. It had been a while since Jihoon had sent him anything like this or let him hear a new song, so Wonwoo put his phone into his pocket and was on his way to the shop.

Tuesday | Pledis Flowers | 06:03 pm

Wonwoo was debating on what he would have for dinner. He’d been working on his game for a while without making a lot of progress for a few hours. He could get some Mexican takeout and treat Jihoon for doing well today. He was just about to text if his roommate had dinner plans yet, when his e-mail app showed a notification. Heart beating, fingers shaking, breath quickening. Wonwoo opened the e-mail and there it was. Mingyu’s name.

Hey Wonwoo!

I attached a folder with the shots I ended up choosing for my portfolio :)

I hope you like them enough to put them on the website!

I also added some tulips that I took a picture of the other day because I know you like flowers. Or I think you do, since you work in the flower shop haha

Anyway let me know what you think,

Mingyu

Wonwoo didn’t miss the way Mingyu added 10 numbers under his name. He gave Wonwoo his phone number. Wonwoo scolded himself for thinking too much about it. It just meant he preferred to discuss the pictures over the phone. That’s it.

With one click on the attached folder, Wonwoo held his breath. Jeonghan looked more like an angel than ever in these pictures. The lighting from outside hit his features perfectly and Wonwoo took a moment to appreciate the color correcting Mingyu had done to the pictures. They looked amazing and professional.

The last picture just showed an unedited shot of some pink and yellow tulips that made Wonwoo smile. He felt proud for somehow being a small part of this and he called Joshua over to show him the pictures. Seungcheol was with a customer and Wonwoo knew he didn’t really care much for the pictures anyway.

Josh stood behind him as Wonwoo opened the first one and with every new picture he could just feelJoshua go crazier. None of them said anything until the last picture was on the screen. “That’s all of them,” Wonwoo said. He looked over to his colleague to see what he could only describe as a man in love. Joshua was still staring at the screen with eyes glazed over, like his mind wasn’t really in the room anymore. “I’m in love with him. Good god, I’m so in love Wonwoo. I need to see him again.”

Wonwoo gave him a soft smile. He’d never seen Joshua like this. Usually it was all overly confident remarks and flirting, but the way he was looking at the pictures right now told Wonwoo that this time things might be different. He clicked the picture off the screen and it now showed the e-mail Mingyu sent him. He was about to close that tab, too, when Joshua stopped him.

“Wait, he gave you his phone number?” Big eyes stared at Wonwoo and he felt slightly uncomfortable at the fact that Joshua knew about it now. It had felt kind of secret before, and Wonwoo realized he actually liked it like that.

“Um, yeah, I think he wants me to let him know if I like the pictures that way.” Joshua all of a sudden seemed to be completely back into reality and he was almost shaking with excitement. “Wonwoo, this is perfect! You can help me get to Jeonghan through Mingyu! You have to call him right now! Please?”

Wonwoo thought about it. He didn’t want to ask Mingyu to help out arrange things for Joshua. Especially since he’d already mentioned he doesn’t like to get into other people’s personal business. What if he felt used or even got mad at Wonwoo for suggesting it?

“Not right now, but I’ll see what I can do, okay? But if I get too nervous about it please don’t be mad. I’m not even sure if I even have the guts to call him at all.”

Joshua nodded. He understood. “Yeah, that’s okay, just think about it, okay? You wanna grab dinner together? I’m craving pancakes.” Wonwoo shook his head no and told Josh he was probably going to treat Jihoon to Mexican food, since he worked hard today.

They talked a little about the pictures with Seungcheol while they worked on cleaning and organizing the shop and Wonwoo walked out with them to close for the day before waving them off and walking the other way to take a subway to his dorm. He decided that he’d just order takeout and pick it up before heading into the dorms without even asking Jihoon. He knew the boy probably hadn’t been outside anyway, so Wonwoo thought he could take the risk.

Tuesday | Wonwoo’s dorm room | 09:16 pm

Leftover takeout was on the floor and soft hip hop was playing in the background. Jihoon had told Wonwoo all about his new tracks and said that taking a walk the other day had really helped him out, so he decided to go for a walk every night from now on.

Wonwoo had his eyes closed and he listened to the sounds coming from Jihoons speakers. He didn’t hear the lyrics though. All Wonwoo could think about right now were ten little numbers. They spun around his head in a loop, demanding his attention. They made him nervous to no extent, but he knew they wouldn’t stop their torture until he pressed them into the screen on his phone and clicked the call button.

And he wanted to, he realized. He wanted to call Mingyu and talk about the pictures, just to hear his voice. Maybe they could talk about other things, like why Mingyu wasn’t majoring in photography and what he did do. Wonwoo didn’t know if he’d have the balls to ask about it, though. But he was going to call him right now. He had to.

Quickly, so he didn’t have any room to change his mind, Wonwoo pressed the numbers into his screen. He only saw them twice in the e-mail, but it had been enough to know them by heart already. Wonwoo blamed it on being a visual learner. With a shaky thumb he put the phone to his ear to hear it ring.

Pick up. Don’t pick up. Don’t. Don’t. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. No, don’t-

“Hello?” Shit.

“Hi, um… Is this- is this Mingyu?”

“Yeah this is he. Wait, Wonwoo is that you?” As every time, Mingyu switching to Korean made Wonwoo feel comfortable and a little light inside.

“Yeah, it’s me, hi.” He should’ve thought about what to say. This was awkward. Mingyu was going to think he’s weird. Great job Wonwoo.

“Oh hi! I’m so glad you called!” Mingyu sounded like the overexcited puppy that Wonwoo remembered, and it made him think that maybe this wasn’t all that awkward as long as Mingyu kept talking to him like this.

“Did you see the pictures I sent you? Wait, of course you did. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t.” Wonwoo’s heart fluttered, because Mingyu was also nervous. “Yeah, I did. They were wonderful. So pretty.”

“Wonderful. I don’t think anyone’s said that about my pictures before. It sounds nice. Thank you.” It took a few seconds of silence to realize Mingyu couldn’t see him smile and Wonwoo felt a little stupid, but then Mingyu talked again and Wonwoo wondered if he didn’t hate the fact that Wonwoo was so quiet.

“So, I was thinking. I’ve been working on my portfolio for a while, but- I’m really bad at the whole design part of it. I can’t seem to make it look nice, no matter what I do. Would you, only if you want to, please help me out with it? Just give me some advice about coloring maybe, or placement? I’m really at the end of my wits here. I’ve spent hours on it already, but it still…” he laughed. “Yeah it looks like shit.”

Wonwoo laughed too. He liked that Mingyu was asking him for help. Not just because it’s him, but because it was a good thing that Mingyu wasn’t afraid to own up to his mistakes and it’s something that Wonwoo found to be a sign of good character. His mom had taught him that back when he was small. She also said Wonwoo was a little too good at it, since he saw mistakes that he didn’t even make. She was always right.

“Do you want to send it to me so I can make notes on it?”

“Actually, I think it’s best if we meet up. Is that okay with you?”

Wonwoo’s heart quickened and he tried not to breathe too fast so Mingyu would hear it. It was fine, this was fine. It was completely okay.

“You can pick the place if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

There it was again. Mingyu sensing Wonwoo’s anxiety, even through the distance of a phone call. Mingyu taking steps back to make him feel more at ease. Whether that be physical steps like the first time they met, or just a step back in his excitement over the phone, because he could tell it overwhelmed Wonwoo.

“Yeah, we can meet. I’ll think about the place. Is it okay if I text you about when and where?” All of a sudden being on the phone with Mingyu felt too close for Wonwoo and he wanted to get away from it.

“Oh, okay, yeah that should be fine. I’m available any night this week except for Friday.”

“Okay, I’ll see when I’m free. Goodnight Mingyu.”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“Were the flowers wonderful as well?”

Wonwoo closed his eyes so hard he saw white and all of a sudden he wanted to scream, or cry, or hit something. Mingyu was so incredibly nice to him and Wonwoo didn’t want him to. It was too much.

“They were,” he managed to squeak out.

“Good. Goodnight Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo hung up the phone and immediately a wave of panic hit him. Terrible thoughts washed over him. Thoughts that told him lies and that made him feel horrible about himself. Wonwoo curled himself up into a ball on his bed and tried to calm his breathing. The music in the background was so loud. Way too loud. But Wonwoo was frozen, so he couldn’t move to turn it down.

For twenty minutes Wonwoo panicked. His breathing went wild and his heart exploded with every beat. His hands shook and his head hurt so bad he wanted to split it in half to let out the monster hiding in his skull. After those twenty minutes his body gave up on him for the night, too exhausted to do anything else. Wonwoo fell into a restless sleep filled with scenarios in which he ruined everything.

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#fanfiction #meanie #mingyu #minwon #wonwoo #gyuwon #wonwoomingyu #mingyuwonwoo #wongyu #seventeen #svt #seventeen au #meanie au #wonwoo au #minwoo #pledis #17 #17 au #wonwoo fanfic #meanie fanfic #mingyu fanfic #mingyu au #svt au

[iscribble]

tuesday boy

pairing: wen junhui x fem!reader synopsis: you encounter him at the bakery and start seeing him every tuesday at the movie theatre where you work since then, until you feel that he wants more than just free movies and snacks.  genre(s): fluff, slice of life, strangers to lovers word count: 1,720

If you take the 07.56 train to Seongdong-gu, scurry past its sliding doors and cease before the sun-drenched, spread out streets, you would catch a glimpse of an Aporia hippia with kaleidoscopic wings fluttering no more than a little over your eyelashes. The thick furred German Shepherd now tethered to a post would flash its canines at you before softening its growl. If you turn left after the first green public bin ahead of the entrance, you would come across the hotdog stall where people would both patiently and peevishly line up in front of.

And for the past few years, Junhui had already been taking this route to college.

There is an alternative, though. If he lingers in the bakery and waits until the owner approaches him with a smile, he could ask for one pepperoni pizza bread and please a girl. She would kiss him on the cheek and fly into the doors of the movie theatre she works at. He’d have to agree to forsake the morning butterfly and the sizzling hotdogs prior to taking this route, though. 

Junhui had only discovered this a few months ago, but it had become an established route of his every Tuesday.

You were standing on your toes, pleading for a reduction on your customary breakfast as you’d left your wallet somewhere under the soft quilt at home. Your attempt would’ve been futile if it hadn’t been for that one stranger sticking around.

“I have some money left,” he handed his money in exchange for your favourite bread. He tossed it upwards and passed it to you with a heart fluttering smile. “Here you go.”

The redness on your pallid cheeks started to show, your jaw twitching as you tried to free the words scrambled on the tip of your tongue. “Y-you really didn’t have to!” 

He shrugged, “Breakfast’s the most vital meal of the day.”

You used to think people like him only existed in films. The kind souled and genuine people who greet each other and offer a hand - would it not sound very peculiar if it were to happen in real life? You were so accustomed to studying every particular in a two-hour movie that witnessing the same event materialise before you formed a horripilation on your skin. You swallowed. “C-come by the movie theatre sometime, I’ll give you free snacks. I work there.” 

“A popcorn and a drink?” He lightened up. Considering how he sounded, people near him would’ve guessed he resented diets and would prefer snacking off and on. In all honesty, the pink tinge outspread across your cheeks and the shimmer that flickered within your amber orbs had been the only ones bringing about this behaviour. 

“Sure,” you bobbed your head. After what he had done, you weren’t letting him go in possession of nothing. “Your name..?”

“Ah,” he snapped his fingers, “it’s Junhui.”

After seven suns have drowned in the horizon and the sound of hurrying trains continued to resonate in your ears, Junhui has yet to drop by the movie theatre. Did he not want something in return? But he sounded so excited the other day! Although you finally surmised he most likely failed to recall your promise, a part of you agonised over the fact that he might not want to see you again.

But when the doors to the movie theatre opened with an abrupt whirl of wind on an inclement Tuesday afternoon, you knew you shouldn’t have had anything to worry about.

“Woah,” Junhui took in his surroundings - including the uniform you bore. He took giddy steps toward the counter, eyes dilating with incredulity at the variegated refreshments available to purchase. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a cinema before,” you descried the quick glitter somewhere within his eyes. Junhui glanced at you before quietly deciding on a popcorn flavour. 

“I’ve been to several, but that’s a couple of years ago. Oh, caramel, please.” 

You grinned to yourself, stunned for a second at how surprisingly pure this boy was. You began filling the empty popcorn bucket before realising you weren’t aware of his desired size. “Large, medium, or small?”

Junhui returned his gaze at you. “I’ll take small.”

And then you offered him a drink, but he refused, saying he thought about it the other day and he didn’t pay you this much. But you insisted that he accepted your offer, telling him “breakfast’s the most vital meal of the day”, and if you had missed it, it would feel worse than losing a couple of dollars. 

The amount of people in the cinema was too little to be considered a crowd, each room being occupied by roughly ten, if not, less. You told Junhui he could watch something if he wanted to - and that he still had to pay - which he agreed to. The movie would only start an hour later though, so Junhui had enough time to keep himself busy - which he finally determined to get to know you better.

The movie - horror, he previously picked - began, and while Jun relished his two hours inside theatre four, you had theatre three free of mess. Once in a while, you would sit down on one of the seats in the back row and think about Jun and his irresistible appeals, your heart thumping an unnecessary amount of times. You were being ridiculous; you had only met Junhui twice.

As time is extended, you were so sure you had developed feelings for Jun. You realised first you had fallen in love with his eyes. Every time he scanned the menu for something more than a popcorn and a drink, you would sneakily search within them.

Junhui stopped by more than you expected him to.  He had once come with a friend, who insisted they watch the latest comedy film. He came with more friends after - four or five, you couldn’t remember - in which you had given Jun a little price cut instead of a hundred percent discount, so his friends wouldn’t be too envious. They would finish two and a half hours later, your eyes already groggy as you tried to resist the urge to shut them. You didn’t know this, but Jun would look back at you refilling drink dispensers or scrubbing the bar before catching up with his friends who are already outside. On some days your head would be tilted over your crossed arms on the far corner of the counter, as your co-workers did their portion of the job. He would fret over your weary figure, hesitating in his tracks before stepping out of the theatre. With this, Junhui had become aware that he might also be developing feelings for you.

Jun would habitually come on Tuesday afternoons, around two or three. But today, he didn’t show up until the sun had set. He’d asked you earlier if you worked the night shift. You don’t, but your co-worker had a dental appointment so you covered up for her.

He looked a little enervated. His head was hung low, his hair a tad dishevelled, and his smile didn’t stretch until the crinkle beneath his eyes emerged. You asked him why he had come this late, he replied with a quick “I had something to do”. Jun declined your treat of popcorn and a drink - which was weird - although he did pick to watch a movie.

If it hadn’t been for Jun, the theatre would’ve been completely vacant. Still, he chose to sit in the back row with nothing in hand - not a meal, not a phone, not a friend, nothing. Jun looked strange and uneasy today. He picked romance, a genre you knew he wasn’t interested in. You shrugged it off though, Jun was full of surprises.

You didn’t have much cleaning to do, as the movie theatre had been almost empty the entire day. Maybe it was finals week, you thought. 

You glanced at the doors of theatre four - the room Jun was in - and came up with a very risky idea. You pulled off the hairband that fastened your ponytail and let your hair down. You switched into a white pussy bow, paired with a leather look legging. You peeked through the doors of theatre four and made sure no one but Jun was inside before entering.

He squinted his eyes at you climbing up the aisle, trying to figure out if they were functioning well because it couldn’t be you - it shouldn’t be you. 

When you asked Jun if you could sit next to him, he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat. His hands were fidgety, you noticed. You stared at the widespread screen in front of you, trying to fight the urge to stop his hands from moving too restlessly. 

You weren’t into romance either, so the movie didn’t do much in piquing your interest. Your eyelids grew heavier every passing second, the view in front of you starting to blur. You were about shut your eyes for good when a hand slipped into yours, your fingers intertwined perfectly with Jun’s.

You stared at your hands impassively, still not believing your fingers were coiled around his soft and slender ones. Now you could really feel the moistness in his hand, the same one that was unsure and fidgety awhile ago. You uttered a giggle, causing Jun to nervously face you and lick his chapped lips. 

“I have a, uh,” he coughed, “a confession to make.”

You chuckled, “I like you too, Junhui.”

He grinned. He grinned with patent bliss. In fact, very widely you swore you heard his cheekbones crack. His ebony eyes returned to glistening again, the radiant joy that he used to bear now visible. 

Junhui was back to Jun, and all it took was a confession from you.

You would be waiting in front of the theatre every Tuesday, he’d be panting, droplets of sweat evident on his shirt by the time he arrived with your favourite pepperoni pizza bread in his grip. He would come back in the afternoon, hair slicked back, his espadrilles intermittently dripping with rainwater, and breath always a little minty. You would kiss him on the lips and head out on a date with your Tuesday boy.

#i love jerry :-) #aw come to think of it cant we go back to the good old 17tv days?? #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen drabbles #moon junhui #wen junhui #jun #seventeen #jun imagines #17 #kpop #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #the8 #mingyu #dk #seungkwan #vernon #dino #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst