solkwan

[solkwan]

“Do you want a girl or a boy?”

The question was odd to you. No matter how many times you were asked, your answer remained the same. Why should you care for the sex of the baby? A baby is a baby. Regardless of being born a girl or boy, it’s going to keep you up all night with its cries. You’ll still raise the kid the same. Is one worse than the other? It was a mystery why so many people were obsessed with asking you the question. Was it better for your firstborn to be a boy? A strong, healthy boy who will bring honor to Wonwoo’s name. Then, is a girl perceived as less?

What you find most interesting is the person asking always has their own perception as to what you’ll choose.

“A girl, right? Oh, they’re just the sweetest,”

“Having a boy as your firstborn is a sign of good fortune and wealth!”

The skin around your eye twitches with either statement. The people who ask you never really do care. They only make small talk to avoid the fact you’ll be giving birth at the ripe age of 19. A teen parent, in their first year of college. The ladies in your neighborhood couldn’t get enough of it, chatting about you over tea. Funny, though, how they never refer to Wonwoo as a teen dad. Claps to his back and wide grins at the fact. Whereas you’re met with pitiful smiles and questions about your studies.

“I have no preference, really,”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” sadness seeps in their voice, “You’d look great with a daughter,”

There was never really a point in the question. Wonwoo always found a way to indulge them, though. Eager to please them.

“I think a girl would be wonderful,” a soft smile settling on his face. Looking at you in an attempt to settle the awkwardness.

He never really did mean anything he told them. You could tell by the way his eyes crinkled a little too deeply. He’d never get tired of pretending for others, you noted. That’s why, at 5 months pregnant, when the nurse first asks you if you’d like to know the sex of your baby, Wonwoo looks to you for answers. Your eyes stay indifferent.

“If you want to know, we can,” You tell him.

Wonwoo bites his cheek, turning back to the nurse, “I think we’d like for it to be a surprise,”

Wonwoo’s mother insists she knows—throws a reveal party.

“This way I’ll be able to buy clothes in advance,”

Wonwoo manages to sit down with her long enough to lecture her about gender roles and stereotypes. The next day, she ends up coming home with bags of purple, orange, pink, and blue one-pieces, all alike. Smile wide on her face as she boasts about how much she’ll spoil her grandchild. Though Wonwoo’s talked her out of throwing a party, she regularly asks for your opinion on it.

“You can throw one if you’d like,”

You’re searching your email for news on your temporary university leave for the coming Spring semester. Two months into your first post-secondary education semester and you’re already looking for ways out. This is not what you had imagined for yourself, but you figured out long ago that what you wanted for yourself and what the world destined for you were two very different things.

“Well, if you don’t want one it won’t be any fun at all,” Wonwoo’s mother eventually leaves the living room and you’re left alone wondering if you should have tried a little harder to satisfy her.

For the next 2 months of your pregnancy, the sex of the baby remains a secret. That is until you’re going in for your monthly check-up and the nurse with floral-patterned scrubs lets it slip.

“Everything looks good so far,” the nurse smiles as she looks over the screen, “You’re scheduled to have a beautiful baby girl in less than two months,”

Time slows as you and Wonwoo look up at one another. You’re quiet, it quickly fills the room. The look in Wonwoo’s eyes makes you want to have his babies for the rest of your life.

“A girl?” Wonwoo’s voice rings through the small room.

The nurse finally tears her eyes away from the screen. She’s appalled as if she wasn’t the one to let the cat out of the bag. She’s searching for answers in your eyes. All you can do is stare back.

“Did you not already know?” her voice squeaks, “Oh my god–I’m so sorry–I had no clue!”

Her apologies fall and stumble out of her lips. She looks near the verge of tears and you find it amusing. Before Wonwoo has the opportunity to comfort her, a full and true laugh is making its way out of you. Wonwoo turns to you, eyes wide. The nurse quiets down as your laughs settle down.

“We’re having a girl,” you’re whispering to Wonwoo.

Smiles tug at the ends of your lips. Happiness fills your chest. Your eyes are becoming blurry with tears. You’re having a baby girl and everything looks good so far. You’re scheduled to give birth in two months and you can’t bring yourself to care about the leave of absence you’re taking from school. At this moment, you have no regrets. You’re sure you’ll never feel joy quite like this for a while, so you bask in it while you still can. In the dark hospital room, propped up against the bed. Your hand has found Wonwoo’s and you’re holding on as tightly as you can. In the bliss of it all, you pull him close to your face and kiss him.

He reacts quickly, grabbing onto your face to touch your foreheads. It’s not anything especially explicit, no swiping tongues, no biting or dragging of lips. Just pressing your lips against his to feel one another. Salty tears staining his lips. He’s pulling away but not letting you go. He moves to peck the skin on your face. You’re giggling and you’re embarrassed at the fact. You don’t want him to stop.

You suddenly remember the other presence in the room and manage to push Wonwoo’s face off of you. The nurse has a smile on her face, her eyes full of relief. The three of you relish in the moment.

“Congratulations,”

here’s a wip I’m not sure I’ll ever finish LOL. I think sharing it gives me a sense of responsibility so here’s to hoping I finish writing this someday

[solkwan]

Hi, I just wanted to let you know your link to carnation isn’t working :( very sad time

omg! i've gone back and changed it. hopefully that fixes it. if not someone pls lmk

[solkwan]

Wonwoo suddenly shares his location with you.

He was in the middle of a park.

He texts something about going on a date. An off handed comment about how he’s having a good time.

He’s in the middle of tour. . . . And he’s on a date?

You think, ’have I not suffered enough? not only did I lose you, now I have i watch you fall for another?’

He tells you about the long walk he just took through the park.

He says, “the trail was longer than expected,”

You reply, “.”

And you turn your read receipts off. Having had them on for him so long ago.

Desperately, you start looking for any evidence he’s on an actual date.

Turns out, it’s a date w his members. A simple text from hoshi confirms it. He answers your sneaky text without any hesitation and he unsuspectingly tells you the park him and his members are at is very nice.

The relief that floods your body is embarrassing, to say the least.

Then you think, ’is Wonwoo trying to make you jealous? Couldn’t possibly be, right? What could he possibly gain from lying to you?’

He keeps telling you about the park.

You text, “wonwoo.” And “stop.”

Suddenly, “why did you like me?”

His true thoughts linger in the air. ‘What was so special about him?’

Unspoken and doubtful.

You ignore it at first. It’s been months. You’re over him. You’ve spent the better half of the past year struggling with your feelings. With your loss. Your best friend, no longer able to call him that. You lost Wonwoo.

And you have this thought and text it.

“doesn’t matter. doesn’t change what happened,”

Wonwoo immediately reads it and that’s that.

But his text racks your brain. You think. And eventually, hours later—you reply.

“You’re kind. It’s what got me first. It was the way you remembered the little things—my lunch orders, important dates, my favorite bands.”

Your kindness went beyond words. I was always grateful to see you. You made my day without knowing it. I was comforted by the mere thought of you. You, who treated others so sweetly. You, who spoke softly, but never hesitated to speak your truth. You were confident, but always humble. You, who I saw in your suffering and you let me in,”

Made my heart constrict in my chest to the point it started hurting,”

Your eyes twinkled, even if you didn’t know it,”

The way you looked at me, I was able to convince myself you felt the same. Those nights we spent under the stars, tracing constellations with our fingers, laying next to each other, your phone playing whatever song you knew I was obsessed with at that time. Your smile permanently etched into my mind. You emitted more warmth than any blanket ever could provide. Your happiness was my own,”

And having you? Being by your side? Even if it was just at the ends of my day?”

God, it was more than I could ever ask for”

I knew you didn’t feel the same way. You were starting to drift from me. But, I knew I couldn’t keep It within myself for any longer. I had to tell you the truth. I had to come clean,”

Wonwoo, I loved you. More than I could ever express with my words. More than you or anyone could ever imagine. I didn’t care that you always saw me as a second priority, that you never put me first,”

I was happy to have you in any way I could. That’s how I knew I would never recover from this unrequited love. Recognizing that, and saying it aloud, nearly killed me. The pain in my chest whenever I saw you started to spread to the rest of my body,”

My mind. It racked for an explanation and it accepted excuse after excuse. It told me lies,”

Wonwoo I loved you and even if that hurt me, especially so, I was so terrified of losing you that I pushed that love deep within me. Hidden. Always lurking,”

But the thing about love is it can never be hidden for very long,”

You pause. He’s reading text after text. Your messages are full of typos and rushed commas. Each bubble changes from delivered to read. You don’t care. You need to say this now or you’re afraid you never will.

“The thought of having you for the rest of my life lingered in me. I wanted to see your glowing. I wanted your light in my life. I wanted every side of you. You were more than a love to me. You were you, and that’s why I loved you,”

And he leaves you with those thoughts and never replies back.

Pain. It’s all you feel. Disappointment. Embarrassment. Hate. You hate him. You hate him for bringing these feelings up after so long. If you had just talked it out then, would things have been different?

You fall asleep dreaming about the stars that night.

I keep having dreams where Wonwoo and I are exes. Wrote this after waking up from another dream. Proofread on the train. Is it possible to hurt from something you never had? I’m not sure. But the ache that lingers in my chest after I wake up? Yeah, I’d believe it.

[solkwan]

Dejun sounds like he’s singing when you go down on him.

Short breaths that lead to long whines. A melodic tune that you swear sounds so explicit you would’ve assumed it was fake if it wasn’t coming from Dejun. And the way he holds your hand—like his life depends on it—is so needy, you can’t believe he’s yours truly.

You’ve been going at it for a while now, bringing him to the edge only to tease him with your fingers once he’s close enough. He’s pants out the most delicate noises every time your thumb swipes over his tip.

“Fuck—baby, please,” he unconsciously chases your touch as you bring your fingers away.

You land a soft kiss on his length. Breathing in all he is as you do so. You know he needs release, and he’s definitely earned it at this point. But you’re so in love with his grunts and harmonies that you wonder just how far he’d let you push him.

“What do you need?” You smile as you squeeze your interlocked fingers.

“Need you,” a hum, “Need you so bad,”

His big eyes glisten with tears. You pull your hand from his, which makes Dejun let out another whine until he feels your hand land on his jaw. Coming up for a kiss, you stand up to your knees on the bed. Dejun immediately kisses you back. He wastes no time in licking the inside of your mouth. Drawing a gasp from you when he bites down on your bottom lip.

“Wanna fuck you,” he mumbles against your lips.

[solkwan]

Not Worth It

Pairing: Ten x Reader

Summary: accidentally sending a nude to ten

A/N: scribbled this down on my notes app and then it came to life on its own

Disclaimer: mature themes, minors DNI

Warnings: reader has a fat ass 😔

[solkwan]

joshua feels like a soft smile. an exchange with a stranger when you accidentally make eye contact across campus on your way to class. surprisingly warm, comforting even. the natural tug on the end of your lips. you can’t help but think wow, that was really nice. and the rest of your week goes by while you daydream of the man who fluttered past you one sunny day.

[solkwan]

Jihoon isn’t one to outwardly display his affection in public. He’s not like Soonyoung, who easily rests his head on the crooks of his loved one’s shoulders. Nor like Minghao, a protective hand resting on the smalls of backs. He’s never been like either of them. Not that he wishes he was. He’s never minded it, and neither have you.

“As long as I know you love me, it doesn’t matter to me how we act in public,” you’d told him the first night he slept over at your place. 

Back then, your relationship was just starting to get serious. Jihoon had come over after a long day at work, he’d usually leave before midnight but you had insisted he stay the night since it was already late. The two of you lay wrapped around one another in your bed with the entirety of the blanket pushed to one side as it had gotten warm. He knew you meant it.

“Besides, PDA can be so cringy at times,” you played with his fingers until your eyes closed and your breath became even. 

So, a few months later, when the two are in line for the Ferris Wheel at some overpriced semiannual carnival, and the couple standing a few feet ahead start to get handsy, Jihoon looks to you. He expects to meet your eyes and snicker together at the couple. As you’ve done before–side-eyeing couples who baby talk to one another.

What he doesn’t expect is for your eyes to look so cloudy. He stares as you quietly watch the couple, your face unreadable. When you finally look over at him, you look shy. Eyes blinking quickly and head bowed in embarrassment. He feels his chest swell.

It takes 25 minutes to reach the front of the line, and another 7 for the wheel to be loaded for the ride to begin. In those 32 minutes, Jihoon gathers all the courage in his body as the wheel makes its first full turn. 

He turns his body to look at you as your gaze rests on the carnival below you. Your eyes sparkle, the stars reflecting your excitement far off in the distance. A soft smile rests on your lips. He knows you’re observing the moment; the two of you together, squished into the small sitting space, hearing the laughter of people who keep losing at the ring toss game as you go around the circumference of the wheel. He sees your fingers shivering a little from the cold breeze. He’s never felt such a need to hold you tight.

When you realize he’s staring, you open your mouth to tease. Your voice soon falls flat as Jihoon brings his fingers to your chin. Slowly, with eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, he begins to lean in.

He hears you inhale and everything else goes quiet. Your eyelashes kiss the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth parts so he can see the tiniest sliver of teeth. All he can focus on is you and how your chest beats hard. Your body mends into his own.

It feels as if the two of you are the only ones present at the moment. In a way, you are as the wheel reaches the top and you escape all lingering eyes. His lips brush your plush ones and it nearly takes his breath away. His stomach drops and his brain short circuits for a second before his muscle memory kicks in and he starts kissing you.

It’s soft, and a little bit cold. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the fact. He takes a deep inhale of you, nose bumping yours for a second as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s then that he feels your tongue brush his own and he nearly loses it right there. He slides his fingers up to the back of your neck, cradling your head. 

He continues to kiss you as the wheel goes round—matching the pace with the beat of your heart through your fingertips. 

thump

thump

thump

When he finally pulls away, he feels his entire face flush. He’s incredibly embarrassed and only a little bit ashamed. You look smug at the fact.

When you two unload from the ride, he offers his hand to help you step out. He doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.

[solkwan]

there’s a danger in spending too much time with somebody. they learn the kind of person you are. often remembering the things you mention offhandedly. memorizing the things that make you the person you are. as in: your habits, your speech pattern, your real laugh.

seungkwan knows your schedule better than you do. he reminds you of club meetings and homework you still need to submit. he remembers the crazy economics professor you had last semester. he listens to you tell the same story twice because he likes to compare it to the first time you told it—you exaggerate different details every time.

he memorizes your order after hearing it once, surprising you when he asks if you want your usual. he accompanies you to events when you’re too embarrassed to go on your own. seungkwan is kind. he treats you well, but most importantly he listens.

the biggest danger of all are the moments when you steal glances from each other when you think no one is looking. and the one time you caught him doing it.

“i like to think of it conceptually at first, then plug in the numbers at the end,”

you’re not sure if you’re making sense, so you turn away from the textbook to look at seungkwan. it’s a grave mistake. you embarrassingly come to the realization you’ve been rambling on about the problem. you think he’s about to tease you, as he always does. this time, though, he’s got a smile tugging at his lips.

teeth peeking out as his rosy cheeks shine. the sun streams in from the library’s skylights and it makes his eyes twinkle. he looks so fond. your heart skips a beat at the thought his eyes are twinkling so prettily at you. you’re sure you’ve stopped breathing. the combination of his soft smile and shiny eyes becomes too much for you. right then, you find yourself thinking, ‘maybe I can love after all,’.

your face must show it. or he must realize you’ve caught him staring. either way—the look of admiration changes to that of doubt. oh, you need to speak.

“um, yeah, you can just look up a video on youtube if that doesn’t make any sense,”

he slides the textbook back to his side of the table, scribbling something down on a pastel sticky note.

“I like the way you explain it,” he mutters, “you’re really good,”

seeing him, seeing you; the idea that maybe he’s liked you all along and neither of you really knew it. seungkwan knows you well for having only known you a year, now. he tells you you look tired on the days uni feels like too much. he cherishes the moments you open up to him. listens to the good and the bad. and he knows you better than yourself.

maybe you can love boo seungkwan. and that’s dangerous because you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone. perhaps you’re reading too much into it, but just for that evening you let yourself imagine what it’d be like to let seungkwan love you back.

[solkwan]

strong believer that joshua writes down every recommendation you give him.

you like a blueberry-flavored lip balm? he buys an identical one. you like a new show on netflix? already on his watch list. this man has a playlist compiled of songs you’ve recommended. he loves discovering all the things you love. he unconsciously respects your opinion over others; his members would be telling him about a restaurant they've been wanting to visit and he'd brush it off because you only rated it 2/5 stars.

joshua has a folder in his notes dedicated to things you've told him. it started as a way to remember them all and has evolved since then. to name a few notes, "y/n's star signs + explanations", "y/n's guilty pleasure shows", and a very long note titled "places to visit with y/n". there are pictures with links. like he is ready. to leave as soon as you'll allow him to whisk you away.

“you’re back already?” joshua asks you as you toe off your sneakers.

he turns his back on the stove top where he's cooking dinner to briefly glance at you.

"they didn't have the cleanser i was looking for," he can hear the pout in your voice.

he feels you wrap your arms around his middle as he stirs the food in the pot. he feels the vibration of your voice as you hum into his backside, snuggling into him.

"is it the one with pink packaging? i have an extra in the bathroom," he tells you.

surprisingly, your arms unwrap around him. he turns around to look at you in confusion. there's a deceivingly sweet look on your face.

"shua?"

"yes?" he says with shaking eyes and a hesitant smile.

"did you buy the last of my cleanser from ulta?"

oh.

"bastard!" you smack his chest playfully, "i'll have to wait at least another month until they get more,"

joshua grabs your arms so you'll stop hitting him.

"i guess this means you have to spend more time at mine so you can wash your face," he giggles.

you bite back a smile and try to get him to let go. muttering a 'whatever' in fake annoyance. joshua watches you give in the moment he entangles his fingers with yours. he leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. you practically melt into the touch, no longer hiding your smile.

" . . . are you wearing my lip balm?"

[solkwan]

Petals

Pairing: Minghao x Reader (18+ ONLY)

Summary: minghao has a dream and asks you to recreate it.

A/N: happy friday nd belated valentines day <3

Disclaimer: *NSFW* minors DNI. i was rereading han kang’s “the vegetarian” and couldn’t get hao out of my mind. so, this is my manifestation of that minus all the creepy parts. no use of y/n. gn reader.

Warnings: painting on reader, fingering (receiving, anatomy not specified <3), teasing, pet name (love), hint of overstimulation, cheesy hao, sub/dom dynamic

Word count: 1.7k

Petals sprout out of long green stems. The pistil stands straight and proud. Each flower is purposeful and strategically placed—spots on a lily blend with the background of your skin. Lilies adorn your collarbones. Roses bloom near your ankles. Minghao lets the brush guide his hand as it sees fit. He allows the images that flood his brain to take over all sensible parts of himself. Staining your skin with vibrant paint which etches green leaves onto your aching thighs.

 If Minghao didn’t know you better, he’d be worried about the way you squirm under his movements—sensitive skin recoiling at the coldness of the paint.

Beams of sunlight cast through the large windows of Minghao’s studio and press kisses down onto your skin. Minghao is almost envious at the way the sun gets you all to herself. The stutter in your slow-rising chest is enough to tell him you’re enjoying this as much as he is. Your fingers twitch on your side as you do your best to comply with his prior request to stay still. He’s meticulous in letting each flower dry before moving on to the next. With every stroke of the brush, you let out a sigh. Minghao isn’t sure if you’re conscious of it, but he’s all too aware. 

All of this is possible because of a mere dream that wouldn’t stop appearing in front of Minghao. A dream wherein you and him are entangled in a web of vines against twinkling light. Warmth and flowers bloom from the heat of skin against skin. He’s not sure what time it is, but he knows it’s eternal. The room is dizzy. Minghao is entranced by the taste of you. A potion. A spell you cast on him which makes him unable to pull himself from you. A dream he woke up from time and time again. He had finally gained the courage to ask you if you’d allow him to selfishly recreate it and you had told him yes.

He takes a moment to take you in. Shadows and highlights bend to the valleys and troughs of your bare body. Yellow contrasts brightly against your chest and Minghao silently thanks himself for breaking out his expensive body paints. Blends of purples, blues, and pinks from all over the spectrum decorate Minghao’s lover. He realizes suddenly that this is the most color he’s ever utilized in a piece. Not that his previous pieces had necessarily been devoid of it, but your presence pulled something different out from him. A part of him he’s never been able to express so strikingly before. Something so earthly and innately human. It’s sacred.

It’s you. 

With that discovery, he shudders. Afraid to meet your eyes, he focuses on the details of a daisy that contrast with a bright tulip. The brush curves the petals out to the shape of your hip. In doing so, his hand briefly brushes against your own. It’s the first time he feels you, having been using only the bristles on the brush to touch you. He can’t help it when his eyes flicker to your lips as they fall open to take in a sharp breath. It’s then that his eyes meet yours. Your lashes flutter with desire and your back arches with pleasure. He knows your hands are gripping the sheet beneath you. Doing your best to keep them to yourself.

It’s nearly enough for Minghao to give in to your silent plea. To give you what you so desperately need. Your lips are all too tempting and he has to grip the brush in his hand to avoid putting a hand on your jaw. How quickly your mouth would find his thumb, wrapping your lips around it and bringing your tongue down onto the pad of the finger. Nearly enough. 

He lowers his face to blow on the flower, permanently marking your skin. 

“Turn for me, love,” Minghao’s voice is guttural. He expects you to resist but you immediately move onto your stomach. So eager and needy you are to follow his commands now that he’s deprived you for so long.

Minghao finally brings a hand to touch you, sweeping over your shoulders to press you flat against the floor. You let out a whine at that. Minghao wishes he could reassure you by saying he’s almost finished, but he knows well he’ll drag this on for as long as he possibly can. He trusts you know it. His eyes roam on your backside. A sight that never ceases to render him speechless. Goosebumps prickle your skin in anticipation. 

Minghao carefully dips a brush into a dusk blue that resembles an evening sky. His choice of tones suddenly darkens as your body responds to him. He paints flowers of the night onto your back, over the curve of your cheeks, and down the backs of your thighs. Which he spreads apart for better access, and you let him. The fragrance of paint mixes with your sweetness in the air. Minghao does his best to ignore the tightness of his pants. 

Again, he brings his face down to blow on the wet skin. You’re struggling to stay still, arms doing their best to stay in place so as to not smudge the paint. He continues like that, painting along the ridges of your legs then blowing hot air only to move on to the next flower. He never lingers in one spot for too long, teasingly moving on before you can get enough satisfaction. 

In a stroke of genius, he flicks the brush and splatters white paint onto your shoulders. You flinch at the action. 

There. Now you resemble the image of yourself in his mind. His days, his nights, his stars. Twinkling and blooming in everything you are. 

“I’m going to touch you now, alright?”

You nod before remembering your manners, “Yes, please,”

He moves the paints out of the way, wary of the way you squirm under his gaze. When his hands finally rest on your hips, you lift up your ass instinctively. He coos at you as his fingers rub around the daisy from earlier. The day flowers peeking out from under you. He can’t help the giggle at how beautiful you are. 

“Hao,” You whine out his name at the sound, finally expressing to him how badly you need him. He softly shushes you and lets his fingers roam carefully.

“Don’t wanna smudge the paint,” he murmurs.

“The paint is dry, it’s been long enough,” you mumble back.

He tuts at that, wishing he could harshly bring his hand down on your ass. Or even just knead the skin. He settles for a pinch near the inside of your thigh. You gasp at the action, clenching around nothing. 

“You look stunning,” 

He brings a finger to where you need him, teasingly avoiding your opening. 

“I–It’s all thanks to you,”

He shuts you up by sinking a knuckle into you, letting you adjust first. 

“I only painted what was already there,” 

He adds another knuckle as you practically purr against the floor. Pumping it in and out of you, he lets you swallow him. It’s not long before he’s adding another finger. The dahlias on your calves shake from pleasure. All the teasing finally getting to you.

“Fuck–hold on,” you call out and he slows but doesn’t pull out, awaiting your safeword, “Don’t wanna cum, yet.”

He curls his fingers in you and you let out a mewl.

“Please, don’t want it to end yet,”

Minghao can tell you’re pouting and immediately brings his lips to your ass, barely able to find a spot without paint. His teeth graze over the soft flesh before his tongue peeks out to soothe the skin, sucking and kissing at you. Bruising your skin to match the flowers. 

“You’ll get plenty of chances to cum,” he slowly finds his previous pace, fingers pumping into you self-indulgently. 

The sight of your body twitching alerts him to how tired you are so he uses his free hand to pull you up so you’re on your hands and knees. You accommodate the shift in weight quickly and eagerly await for him to add another finger. Minghao, however, takes this moment to adequately probe your beauty. You’re whining again–not waiting long before you move on his fingers. Minghao lets you do so. Appreciating the paint that adorns your skin. He lets you use him just as he used you. Lets you fulfill your need for him. 

When you start to get tired of that, too, he adds another finger. He curls and twists them as he sees fit and it isn’t long before your warmth squeezes around him. Your high rushes to you all at once and your squeaks fill his studio. Minghao is overcome with a sudden ache in his chest. The need to cement this image in his mind floods his thoughts; a desire to spend the rest of his life making you feel this good. 

Minghao knows in himself that you’ve ruined him forever. 

There will never be another person who makes him feel as passionate as you do. Who teaches him as many lessons as you do. Who’s very existence is stubborn and proud. Unapologetically you, when you scold Mingyu for chewing with his mouth open. Or when Seungkwan takes a joke too far and you don’t hesitate to smack his head. Yet, with Minghao, you let him take control. You let your guard down. Obedient and wanting. Patient in letting him do whatever he wants with you. Something about the fact makes Minghao’s stomach flip and turn inside out. 

You ride your high out on Minghao’s fingers as you continue to gasp for air, bringing your hips to a slow pace. Minghao doesn’t let up though, keeping his previous pace. You call out his name in realization. He ignores it, too entranced by the stars that sleep on your back.

“You’ll take whatever I give you, right, love? Still need to paint on myself,”

“‘Course,” you manage even with all the gasping you’re doing, “We’re recreating your dream, right?”

Minghao’s heart might just burst out of his chest. You stay on all fours regardless of the overstimulation.

“You’re already everything I dream about and more,”

hope this wasn't too self indulgent hehe <3 happy valentines

[solkwan]

Minghao made you feel comfortable. 

Comfortable like when you get home from a long day at work, you can trust him to eat with you in silence. Trust him to push you enough to take care of yourself, but not to the point he knows you can’t handle. He’d gesture for you to finish your food. Push your hair out of your face when it gets in the way. Lead you to the couch and lay you down. And when he puts on your favorite record, and his hands begin to ache the tension in your muscles in your legs–you’d let out a deep sigh. 

Trust like finally being able to let your eyelids fall when you feel the heat of his skin touch yours. Eventually, the setting sun’s kiss of rays wouldn’t be enough to light the small room, and he’d softly urge you that it was time to go to bed. 

Nothing is more comfortable than the presence of Minghao when you’re in the bathroom washing up together and he takes it upon himself to fix the face mask on your skin. His fingers silky as they smooth out the paper. You can only blink at him as your chest swells. And all he can do is blink back.

It almost becomes too much when he finally sets you down on your bed and wraps his arms around your body. Nothing can compare to the feeling right before he buries his head in your neck. Because in that very millisecond–in that feeling where butterflies erupt in your chest (though that may simply be your pounding heart)--your body remembers his and you finally feel at home. You know you’ll never be safer than when his lips begin to whisper secrets against your skin. Secrets only shared between the two of you once the moon perches herself above your heads. Xu Minghao was that comfort and you were his.

[solkwan]

hey i read your fic 'carnation' and i must say it's one of the best seojun fics i've read !! i hope you write more fics on him cause truly he deserves everything :(( thank you so much for the beautiful work !!

thank u so much for reading and enjoying! I want to start writing more but if anything they'd be shorter pieces bcs of work n school rn

[solkwan]

Thank you for writing the masterpiece “Carnation”

T-T thank u for reading and enjoying it ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[solkwan]

wip wednesday

[solkwan]

Ummm....hi. I’m a new reader ☺️ I’ve just read Carnation and let me say, it is the best Han Seojun fic I have read!!! Especially with part 2 😭😭 it was beautiful to read. How do I explain how much this fic gave me happiness? I wanted to squeal out of pure delight lol

i def squealed whilst writing it ngl :] there’s beauty anywhere u look I think, I did my best to portray that in seojun. ty for reading (✧u✧) I’m vry glad it made u happy

[solkwan]

You're such a good writer I'm screamingkdfjnfkddfg

ty! takes time and lots of patience 😅 glad u guys r enjoying the final part <3

[solkwan]

Carnation (epilogue) - Han Seojun x Reader

“Has anyone called Seojun yet?”

Your head perks up at the faithful name.

“Seojun is coming?” your voice comes out slurred.

Someone pats you on the shoulder to comfort your drunk self. Your surroundings are becoming hard to keep up with.

“I’m here,” his voice is like a sweet melody ringing out above the loud chaos of the restaurant.

“Seojunie~” you can’t help but hold out your arms to him.

He looks as breathtaking as that day he brought you a bouquet of bright, blue Dahlias to your graduation.

He rushes over, putting his hands on your cheeks. Your arms land on his waist, squeezing tightly. Almost as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. Hands sneaking under his checkered coat.

You think back to that day of your graduation. Funnily enough, you held a bouquet of pastel lilac flowers, mixed with soft blue Salvias. As the two of you approached the other, neither of you could bite back the toothy smiles on your face. When you finally reached him, your head fell in embarrassment.

“Ms.Yoon,” was all you could say.

Ms. Yoon, the owner of the flower shop the two of you frequently visited, must’ve realized you were both gifting each other boutiques. The two assortments seemingly fit together effortlessly. The soft purple and blue hues complemented each other well. She probably got a kick out of the youngsters nervously buying flowers for the other. It got a chuckle out of both of you.

"Blue flowers themselves stand for hope and the beauty of new beginnings," Ms. Yoon had told you with a smile, "The lilac is associated with a first love,"

Before he could hand you his assortment, you put yours in his hands. Making a comment about how pretty he looked next to them. A blush brushed his cheeks but he smiled regardless. He was quick then to pull you in by the waist and tickle your forehead with his lips. There was no need for arbutus flowers when the coalition of the delicate blue bouquet spoke for itself.

“Hi,” you speak now, eyes sparkling as they had on the day of your graduation, “I missed you,”

“We grabbed breakfast together this morning,” he points out.

“But you left me for your agency afterward,” you pout.

“I was rehearsing,” He let out a loud sigh. Eyes squinting in feign annoyance, “I texted you, too,”

Your hands are pulling him in closer, awkwardly trying to get the long-legged man into your lap. He doesn’t let you, but the blush on his cheeks doesn’t go ignored by the rest of the group. They tease, asking if you needed a room. Both you and he ignore it, and—luckily—it dies down quickly.

“How much did you drink?” he takes one hand and rubs the top of your head soothingly. You close your eyes at the feeling. Chuckles echo among the table of your high school friends at your interactions.

“We only took a few shots,” someone lets him know, you think Sua.

When you open your eyes again, Seojun is examining your face with careful eyes.

“Get your things, bub,” your stomach flips at the name. Regardless of telling you to do it, he helps you collect your things. Even leaving some cash on the table for your meal.

Your friends let out whines at the corniness, but you don’t care. Before you know it, you’re secured on his back making your way out of the restaurant. The two of you weave through the streets. You, nuzzling your face into his neck. You notice how long his hair is getting and wonder how long you can convince him to grow it out. Surely his agency can let it get an inch or two longer. You kiss his neck as a means to comfort it. I won’t let him cut you.

He shudders at it, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey,” you whine and he hums, “put me down,”

He shakes his head, “you’re too drunk,”

“I have to tell you something,” you whisper sultry into his ear, “it’s a secret,”

Seojun can’t help but give in to you when you use that tone. He carefully sets you down and you stand up slowly, adjusting to balancing on your own. You realize then he’s wrapped his coat around your shoulders.

“You always take such good care of me,” your tone suddenly shifts. The alcohol in your system is surely to blame. Seojun’s heart rate picks up at the way your voice starts to shake. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you, but I’m thankful you’ve stuck with me for so long,”

He’s standing close to you, holding you by the shoulders. He mutters out your name.

“What’s wrong?”

You’re quick to shush him. Putting a finger up to his lips. You’re overwhelmed with how many emotions rush through your skin.

“Listen carefully,” your voice drops to a whisper. He doesn’t dare say a word.

“Do you like Messi?”

Silence. Then, he laughs.

The loud noise that escapes his lips catches you by surprise. Relief floods his veins.

“Don’t laugh!” you hit him.

When his chuckle dies down, he moves his hands up to your face again.

“I’m sorry,” His lips tug up.

“I hate you,” you’re still annoyed, shoving his hands away.

“You love me,” he spits back.

“I do love you,” your speedy response has his heart skipping a beat, “Now say it back,”

“I love you, too, bub,” he pulls you in for a hug, “always have,”

“Are you dating anyone?” you suddenly ask and he’s laughing again. Chest rising up and down.

You relish being held by him in the cold night. The breeze sobers you up a bit and you don’t want to pull away, or go home for that matter. Afraid of the teasing that will come the next morning. No doubt your boyfriend of one year will bring up the fact you forgot who he was.

“Let’s get you home, petal,”

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