Alcoholvision Fanchild bc I'm the no.1 alcoholvision shipper!
Leviticus a weird cutie, he's Always doozimg off,like a tipsy troop,but he's not drunk, it's in his genes,he Always wanna sleep and wears comfortable clothes and pajama
Heska has attitude she's Always judging especially Rum, she's overprotective,likes bossing around but she can be sweet especially with her little brother and Mango,but she eventually warms up to Rum
I have more drawings about them they are one of my fav Fanchilds actually and finally a happy,non problematic family
FINALLY SOME FLUFF! Happy kids and marrige
(don't get used to it🙄I still have to drop Chip's lore)
I awoke to a sudden and violent cacophony of sounds beyond the wooden walls of my prison. Bleary-eyed, I cocked my head trying to make sense of what I was hearing: Thunderous, purposeful footsteps, rustling, the creak of the bathroom door, the buzz of an electric toothbrush, things being tossed on the bed, Natalie mumbling furiously to herself, “Shit, shit, shit…”, the undeniable SLAM of the bedroom door.
Then, silence.
She’d forgotten about me. How long until she came back? Or was she leaving me here to punish me? I buried my head in my hands, heart pounding a mile a minute.
Then, I heard the door being thrown open, footsteps approaching, bright, blinding light and pressure around my torso. My body was suspended in the air as my eyes struggled mightily to adjust to the painful morning sun beaming through the shafts of rain in the unshaded windows. She was gripping me haphazardly, the pad of her thumb pressing into my abs as her pointer finger rested on the base of my neck and her ring finger supported the curve of my lower back. I immediately clung to her thumb, facing the floor that seemed miles below me. She spoke, seemingly to herself, as she rushed across the room with me in hand, “Fuck, I almost forgot about you and you’re the one making me late… come here…” she grabbed an empty cardboard box, practically tossed it onto her desk chair and then plopped me down into it. “Rat jail for you, mister-“ what?!
“Natalie, please… don’t-“ her steely look was enough to shut me up. She threw down a bowl of water and what looked like some kind of disgusting pre-packed snack cake.
“Hush. You’re lucky I’m letting you out of the drawer. Sorry for the shitty breakfast, but I don’t have time to make anything. Look at me. Alexander, I want to see your eyes…” huffing, I relented staring into those rich, warm irises, “Don’t even think of pulling something. Alright? I’m putting you in this box so you can at least have some fresh air and sunlight. If you so much as take a step outside of it, I won’t let you out of my sight…” except for times like these, when you’re clearly leaving me here alone?? “Do not fuck with me, little man. You hear me??” I crossed my arms, and turned my head. She swiftly snatched me up by the collar. I flailed, trapped between nothing more than her finger and thumb. “Alexander!! Promise me you’ll be good.” She was burning holes into my flesh with her violent stare. I sighed, relenting.
With that, she set me down, well, tossed me aside and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her so hard, it rattled the chair, and subsequently, the box where I sat, tiny and helpless. Ugh. Rat jail?? Where did she come up with this stuff??
I clamored to my feet, only to find, to my great disappointment, the lip of the box still towered over my head. My face flushed hot. Damn my little frame! There was no way in hell I was going to stay cooped up in these humiliating four walls of cardboard, however. I had a developed cerebrum… I’d figure this out.
Immediately, a light bulb went off. Ah, easy enough. The solution was plainly obvious… messy, but obvious. I stood before the offensively large bowl of water, and began throwing my weight at it. The liquid sloshed and tumbled as I pushed to tip it over. After some gritting of teeth and elbow grease, I managed to flip the ceramic upside down. Water splashed everywhere, soaking me, the floor and walls of my paper prison. Cold! So cold! I did my best to wring out the fabric of my stupid unicorn emblazoned shirt to keep it from sticking, stiffly, to my body. I then pushed the bowl as close to the edge of the box as possible, before climbing on top.
Stretching my arms as far as they could go over my head, and trying to balance on the ball of my non-injured foot, my fingertips just brushed the lip of the box. Damn!! My face burned, as my brow furrowed. Not close enough. I whirled around and eyed the plastic-wrapped snack cake. That would have to do for a stepping stool. Grunting and bemoaning my pitiful circumstances the whole way through, I gripped the reinforced edges of the crinkly packaging and hefted the processed food item across the box and managed to heave it on top of the bowl.
Gritting my teeth I clamored up the ceramic myself, craning my head toward my goal. I figured I only had a shot or two at this, as the cake would surely buckle under my weight. Sweeping my hair from my eyes I took a deep breath. C’mon Alexander, this is nothing compared to what you’ve been through the last few days, you could do this blindfolded. Puffing up my chest, I leapt deftly into the inch or so of extra, edible height, and searched with my fingers for a solid grip on the cardboard ledge.
Much to my satisfaction, I found a hold before my feet sunk into the spongy processed sugar. Lifting myself up to the ledge I balanced haphazardly on the cardboard lip before raising my arms over my head and gripping the edge of the desk which was luckily within easy reach. Using the momentum of my swinging body, I pushed away from my pathetic prison and swung, gracefully pulling myself up. Now, why couldn’t you have just done that in the pantry, you idiot?
I pressed away from the desk’s surface in a three-legged push up, keeping my injured leg raised. Arriving to standing, I rejoiced in my accomplishment. Finally! Blood pounded triumphantly in my swelling chest as I celebrated my win. No human was going to humiliate me, stick me in a box and demand I behave, ever again. I was so much better than just some living doll for her to keep and coddle. I tried to ignore the sparkling, smiling visage of the dopey horned horse on my embarrassment of an outfit. I didn’t need to worry about that now, I had books to read! Every page of the knowledge she so carelessly failed to appreciate was all mine for the taking! I rubbed my hands together, greedily, thrilled to do what I loved most in this life: deepening my understanding about the world around me. But as I limped over to that coveted textbook, it’s massive pages like some field of tantalizing facts and figures, I felt my chest cave in.
What was that nagging feeling at the back of my skull? I traced my bottom lip with a finger. Am I feeling… guilty? Natalie’s shocked and tear-stained face flashed through my mind’s eye. I really had hurt her hadn’t I? I let out a tense sigh. She had taken care of me, after all, hadn’t she?
She may have been gigantic and ignorant but she was doing her best to be gentle, to handle me, in all my littleness, with care. I thought back to her impressive nursing as she bandaged my knee without harming me. I stared down at that bare, wrapped leg, grateful for the ability to wiggle my toes and balance at least some weight on it. She did deserve some credit for trying, didn’t she? I wrinkled my nose in frustration. The last thing I wanted was to care about some stupid human. I just wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to learn and get back on my own two feet and that was it. Nothing more. But as I stared at the expanse of the desktop before me, littered with her things, I couldn’t deny the pounding of my heart, and the furrowing of my brow.
My eyes alighted on the pads of sticky notes she’d used to prop up my leg, and an idea began to take shape in my mind. I limped over to the edge of the desk, where computer cables hung messily down the side. Far beneath me was a wire metal trash bin, full of discarded scraps of paper. I could shimmy down there easily enough using the cables. I squared my shoulders, determined. Learning would have to wait a few hours more, I had something else I needed to do first.
*********
My fingers twitched idly over my laptop keyboard as I suffered through the agonizing minutes of this lecture. The professor’s voice droned on, tonelessly, like some lethargic bumble bee. I tapped my foot as I bit my lip. Eighteen… make that seventeen more minutes… what if I died from sheer boredom first? Then poor little Alexander would surely starve to death.
Don’t get me wrong, I was still pissed at him… he’d been a real jackass for no good reason. But, I did feel kinda bad about locking him in the drawer all night and snatching him up so suddenly in my rush to get out of the house on time. I kept picturing him curled up in the cardboard box I’d tossed him in, probably just as painfully bored as I was. I realized I just stuck him in there with nothing to occupy his time. I could picture his grumpy little furrowed brow. A smart little thing like him needed something to keep his mind busy or he’d surely get himself into trouble. Then, a pang of alarm washed over me… he wouldn’t try to escape would he? Especially after I’d gotten so angry, maybe he would want to retaliate. Maybe he was pissed off in return. It seemed no matter what I did, he was angry about some aspect. Why would imprisoning him in a box like a newly purchased hamster be any different?
With a lump in my throat, I kept picturing all the worst case scenarios of him ending up as a broken little puddle on the floor. I cringed. He’d better be right where I put him, or there would be hell to pay. How dare he make me worry like this!
Now, I couldn’t stop fixating on the idea that he’d be long gone by the time I got home. I tried to remind myself that all the doors were sealed shut so he couldn’t possibly get far. Unless there’s some hole or vent or something he can squeeze into, that you’re too big to notice. I squirmed in my seat, another student darted their eyes at me, with a judgmental raised brow. I tried to ignore them. He’s too injured to venture out on his own, he should be smart enough to recognize that. He might hate you but it’s not like he’s got a death wish. He’s still benefitting from your help. Like he’d said, all interaction is a negotiation. He still needed me. Surely, when I ceased to play the role of nurse, I had no doubt he’d dart off the second he had full use of his leg. Why did that thought make my stomach drop? Did I actually give a shit about that little pain in the ass? I wasn’t wantonly cruel towards him, obviously. And I tolerated his little rants and tantrums enough to keep from wringing his little neck, but surely it would be a relief to send the tiny ball of rage packing when the time came… right?
I was shaken by my reverie as I heard my name ringing in my ears. “Ms. Marquez? Class is over, you can go now…” I blinked rapidly, the TA was wrapping up the books and papers left on the lectern.
“Huh? S-sorry. Right. Thanks…” face flushed hot, I gathered my things and slinked out of there as fast as I could. I had only one thing on my mind as I clamored in my car and rushed off towards home.
I couldn’t manage my frenzied hands enough to securely get the key into the door. I fumbled around, cursing under my breath, as I dropped my jangling bundle of keys. My heart was in my throat. I hoped he was still where I’d left him. I hoped he was okay. Finally, I’d managed to open the door. I bolted in, hair flying as I dropped all my stuff directly at my feet and made a beeline for the bedroom. “Where are you, you little shit?” I came crashing into my room, eyes already fixated on where I knew the box would be. As the cardboard cage came into view, I saw an upturned bowl, warped water stains and a broken lump of cake still inside its package, but no Alexander.
My stomach flipped, as my blood froze in my veins, and my eyes darted to the edge of the desktop. We’re my nightmares unfolding before me? Was he gone, or dead somewhere? No little man in sight. I was panicking, “Alexander?? Where the fuck are you?” I hazarded a glance down to my feet, terrified I’d find him bloodied and broken from a failed attempt to get down. No sign of him there either. “Goddammit you little weasel! I know you can hear me! Come out or when I find you I’ll wring your neck for making me worry so much!”
“Oh calm down will you?!” I heard a tiny, angry little shout from behind my pen holder. “I’m right here!“ suddenly he peered from behind the overflowing metal cylinder stuffed full with writing utensils. There he was, safe and sound, his hair was a damp mess clinging to his brow and giving him this disheveled look I wasn’t used to seeing. His shirt was half drying, still sort of sticking wetly to his too small frame. His blue eyes burned as he stared up at me unflinchingly, irritated by my interruption. I’ll admit I was relieved to see he was alright and moving around, but just as quickly, I set my jaw as heat rose in my body. What the hell was he doing out of his cage? What had I told him? He needed to learn to follow instructions. And what was he doing back there that he was trying to hide from my view? That little man was in big trouble.
“What do you think you’re doing? I told you to stay put! You promised you’d be good! I can’t trust you to sit still for a few hours?” He opened his mouth to reply, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish. “What’re you doing back there, huh? You’d better not be breaking my shit!!” I leaned across the desk and plucked up the pen holder, leaving him without cover on the open desk. He flinched reflexively as my hand and the object flew past him. But instead of finding some disassembled computer cables or ripped up papers or some other form of tiny retaliation, what I saw littered about this dusty corner of my desk were dozens of beautiful, hyper-realistic paper flowers, all crafted from my tossed out old notes and the colored squares of sticky notes. Soft pinks and lavenders and cerulean blues stood out from the grainy white and blue lined stems and leaves.
These false florals were sculpted from delicately torn layers of paper pressed together with a bit of water and tiny, graceful hands. There were sprigs of lavender, primroses, daisies, lillies and lilacs, with tiny little stems and leaves. I could see he had been actively working on another sprig of lavender, the tiny purple buds each being folded by hand with microscopic detail and somehow folded in to the main stem in some kind of individual approach to origami.
I just stood there, open mouthed, holding the pens aloft. He had stood silent, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his own feet, no doubt waiting for me to say something. Eventually, it seemed he grew impatient for an answer and suddenly started to leap into action. Huffing he gathered up the flowers, they were an armful for him, and almost as tall as he was. “This was all I was doing.” He grumbled defensively as he struggled to bend down and pick them up. My hand twitched reflexively. I wanted to help him but thought that would just set him off again. I let him struggle on his own, “You don’t need to scream at me.” With his beautiful creations slung over his shoulder, he started to hobble across the desktop, navigating the obstacle course I’d unknowingly made for him of books and notes and various miscellaneous things that really belonged back on a shelf or in the trash. He trudged along, avoiding my gaze.
I was stunned. This wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I’d honestly thought I was going to catch him crafting some kind of weapon or trying to make his escape. To see that he had spent his time delicately shaping and folding paper was wholly incongruous with everything I knew about him up until this point.
By the time I refocused on the tiny disgruntled man on my desk, he’d made it all the way to the far edge by my door, not far at all from where I was, looming over him. He stood dangerously close to the drop off. Suddenly feeling highly alarmed and protective, I couldn’t help but react, fingers descending around his torso, “Whoa! What’re you doing, little man?”
He squirmed in protest at my limiting grip,“Tossing these out, since you, clearly, don’t want them. Let go of me!”
“Wait-“ I relaxed my grip, just barely pinching the fabric of his shirt between two fingers, “You made those for me?”
“Yes. I thought that was painfully obvious! Why on earth would I make these for myself??” He spoke to me like I was stupid. Which, I guess he thought I was. But I realized with a sudden gasp that these delicate little creations were his way of apologizing, and by my not understanding that, he felt rejected. I was touched. Awww, even little jackasses could be sweet and thoughtful sometimes.
*************
Much to my deep disdain, I felt my limbs becoming weightless as she plucked me off the surface of the desk. She was staring down at me with that awful dreamy gaze again, as though I were more object of affection than intelligent individual. I clenched my teeth, the bundle of realistically sized paper wildflowers still gathered in my lap.
She was holding me in the heel of her palm, my legs up to my knees dangling over the side, my heels pressed against her wrist, where I could feel the thrum of her pulse. My shoulders were cradled by the wall of her fingers raised at a perpendicular angle to her palm. I wanted nothing more than to be back on solid ground. Why did I think doing something nice for her was a good idea when all it got me was more horrendously embarrassing coddling behavior? Two fingers encroached upon my space and I stiffened, unsure just what those appendages were planning to do.
She noticed me bracing immediately, a smirk playing on her lips as she whispered, “You’re okay, relax. It’s okay…” Gently, she pinched the stem of one of the flowers between her nails, lifting it easily out of my grip and holding it aloft to get a better look. She twirled it in her fingers, eyes wide with amazement. She regarded it as though it were something truly precious, and not just some stupid thing I’d crafted from her trash. It wasn’t all that special any way… selfishly I just wanted to banish my guilty thoughts and this helped me to do it. I felt my face flush hot.
Suddenly, I felt her eyes on me, her face brightened by a wide, sparkling smile. My heart thrummed fast. Why was she looking at me like that? Then that face started getting closer and closer. Giant lips began to pucker. “No, no, we’ll have none of that…” she ignored me completely, I squirmed in her hand, back pressed into the wall of fingers. I had nowhere else to go! “Natalie, don’t you dare!” Those lips were overwhelming my field of vision, I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut, “Do not kiss me or, I’ll-I’ll—“ her lips collided with the crown of my head, warm, moist, soft.
When she retracted, I couldn’t hide my bright red cheeks and heaving chest. “Or you’ll what?” She purred, delighted. I just stared into the middle distance, unable to maintain control over myself, “Uh, oh. Earth to Xander….” She waved a finger in front of my face, I didn’t react, “What, did I break you?” No response. “Alexander!” She pinched my cheeks between her fingers each as big as my head, and forced me to look at her, “Hey. You alright?” I cautiously nodded my head up and down. She heaved a sigh of relief. The air from her giant lungs rustled my hair into my eyes. “So what, did one moment of sweetness and affection overload your system? I won’t kiss you ever again if it means you’ll practically shut down every time I do.” She chuckled, amused by my stunned reaction. Thank god. I never want your mouth anywhere near me. No matter how warm and soft it might be. This was all adorably funny to her. “Sweet little sour puss…. Who knew you had it in you to be nice? I love the flowers. Thank you.” I stared up at her, blinking rapidly. “This is the part where you say, ‘You’re welcome, Natalie. I’m sorry for being such a dick last night for literally no reason since you’re 100% keeping me alive right now…’” I folded my arms and raised my brows, giving her a deadpan stare, “No? Too far? I gotta settle for just the flowers, huh?” I nodded. She took them all from me, fitting easily in her loose fist. “Where’d you learn to make these? They’re incredibly detailed….”
***************
He got all squirmy again, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t want to answer. I figured I’d be better off picking my battles and just let it go. “Hey, Ale-Ale-Oxen-Free?” He moaned and rolled his eyes before he buried his head in his hands. I pried his palms away with my finger tip and raised his chin to meet my eyes, “I know apologizing isn’t easy for you. Thank you for these. It was very sweet. I guess I’ll still keep feeding you or whatever.” A ghost of a smile brightened his perpetually grumpy countenance, as he curtly nodded. I lowered my hand and freed him from my grip. He seemed to breathe easier the moment he was left to his own devices. I felt a little ache in my chest at that. I wished he actually liked interacting with me. I sucked in a quick breath to recover, “Speaking of which, I see that you clearly haven’t eaten all day… so I’m gonna go make us some lunch. Thanks, by the way for making a huge fucking water mess for me to deal with…” he raised his shoulders in defense but when he caught me winking at him he relaxed again. “I thought maybe… if you wanted… you could stay here and look over chapter 16 for me? I’ve got a test coming up and I haven’t even read it.” I saw his chest puff up just a few tiny millimeters, while he struggled to keep his face casually neutral. I knew looking at my textbook was all he really wanted, cute little nerd.
“Yes. Fine.” I guess that’s all I was going to get. I delicately placed the flowers in my pen holder, and glided towards the door, when his tiny voice stopped me.
“Hey, um…”
“Yeah?”
“Th-thank you.” I nodded and crossed through the threshold of the door. Better not to make a big deal of it to his face. But the second the doorknob clicked into place and I was behind the safety of the wall, I practically squealed, face turning bright red. Was I finally winning this little grouch over? Then, muffled through layers of drywall, “I can still hear you, you know….” My stomach dropped as my face burned.
“Fuck off!” I darted away to the kitchen, totally embarrassed.
Happy birthday @holdmybook! I promised I would write something for your birthday that wouldn’t break you heart, so here it is!
<3
Harry threaded his fingers through Draco’s and leaned his head on his shoulder. Draco rested his hand on Harry’s thigh and gently squeezed.
The telly chattered in the background and various sounds of fluttering homeliness drifted around Harry’s apartment as his magic carried on with the cooking and cleaning while he lay on the couch curled up with Draco.
Draco sighed and looked down at his watch hesitantly. Harry lifted his head to look at Draco’s pale face washed in the blue light of the telly.
“Everything alright?” Harry said, his voice husky from sleepiness.
“I should get home,” Draco sighed. “It’s late.”
Harry let out a breath and set his head back down on Draco’s shoulder. He didn’t know how to tell Draco that he didn’t want him to leave. Before, when he’d asked Draco to stay, they’d made out and then had sex, and it was... well, it was perfect. But Harry didn’t want that tonight. He wanted Draco to stay curled up on the couch with him, watching telly. Nothing special, just the two of them existing in the same space together.
But Harry didn’t know how to say that, so he said nothing at all.
Draco shifted against him, and Harry could tell that he was preparing to carefully lift Harry’s weight off of him so he could get his cloak and Floo out.
“Draco.” Harry latched onto Draco’s hand when he tried to move. Draco looked at him and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.
“Sorry, love, I have to go,” Draco said sadly into the soft skin of Harry’s cheek.
Harry stared up without saying anything. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “I don’t want you to go.”
“You want me to stay?” Draco wiggled his eyebrows and smiled wickedly.
Harry looked down at Draco’s hand, which was still resting on his thigh, and slowly ran his fingers across Draco’s knuckles. Draco followed Harry’s gaze to his hand and stiffened slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.
“No,” Harry said quickly. Draco’s eyes widened and he yanked his hand back. “I- no- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
Draco leaned into the couch, away from Harry. “Just tell me what it is.”
“I don’t want you to stay like that,” Harry said.
“Well,” Draco said firmly, “then, I’ll leave.”
“I don’t want that either,” Harry said hurriedly, trying to take back Draco’s hand. Draco stuffed it into his pocket before Harry could tangle his fingers in between his.
“What do you want?” Draco said exasperatedly, but not without kindness.
“I want you to stay here with me,” Harry tugged Draco’s hand out of his pocket and closed his fingers around it loosely. “But not for anything.” Draco stayed silent as Harry tried to work out his words. “Not for sex,” Harry blurted out.
Draco’s face dropped. “Oh, okay. If you didn’t want that with me, all you had to do was say so.”
Harry set his fingers under Draco’s jaw and lifted his face to look at Harry. “Sorry, I don’t mean ever. I didn’t mean I don’t want sex with you- because I do! I very much do!” Draco laughed a little. “Just not tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I just want to be here tonight. With you,” Harry said nervously, trying to find a hint of understanding in Draco’s face. To his surprise, Draco’s face broke into a warm smile.
“Yes, I want that. I’m okay with that, yes, yes, yes,” Draco’s words stumbled out in a relieved rush. “As long as you still want me here.”
“Of course I do,” Harry leaned forward and rested his forehead against Draco’s. Draco butted their heads a little, and Harry shoved his nose into Draco’s face. “It only means I want you here more.”
“Okay,” Draco grinned, and settled back in against Harry.
The two of them slumped together on the couch and tangled their limbs and their smiles again. Harry set his head back on Draco’s shoulder, and Draco put his head on top of Harry’s. And they were happy.
Dear GodMikalla! I really loved your teaching MC headcanons, and was wondering if you could maybe expand Saeran's part? I live for that f l u f f
I’m so happy you enjoyed them!
Finally some fluff! I feel like all I’ve been doing is angst lately so!! heres!! some!! fluff!!
This is more of a light drabble than a fic buuuut i hope it suits your palette!
***
Saeranpointed to a picture of a beautiful white Daisy in the open book on his lap,“This one.”
“Uhm…purity?”You answered him a little unsurely.
Youwere both sitting cross-legged on your bed, hands locked together while youhovered over Saeran’s book of flowers, one of the few things he reallytreasured from when he was younger. The afternoon had been tranquil, lazy, andthe soft lighting that shimmered in through the window made everything feellike a dream in which none of you wanted to wake up from.
Yourboyfriend’s way of expressing himself were through flowers. He wasn’t goo with words,and he was just starting to learn the language of touch. You could tell heoften felt frustrated at his own unconveyed emotions, so you decided to try andlearn his language instead.
Thelanguage of flowers.
“Good,”He smiled, giving your hand a light squeeze, “What about…The red tulip?”
Youbit your lip in thought, “Red tulip….Damn, I always get this one mixed up. Whatwas it again?”
“Perfectlove.” He hummed, looking for the next flower he would quiz you on. Your heart skippeda quick beat. You had been with him for a while now, and it amazed you how suchsimple words from him could impact you in such ways. You had known yourfeelings for him were strong, but they kept growing with each passing second,with each word, with each touch. You could never get enough of him, and he of you.
“Oh,”A light blush tinted your cheeks, and you looked down at the book, “What aboutthis one?” You pointed at the image of a small white flower with a beautifulyellow center.
Itwas him who blushed now, averting his gaze to your interlocked fingers.
“Oh,you don’t remember?”
“Rememberwhat?” You titled your head, trying to recall if he had already taught you themeaning behind it. Sometimes he showed you so many flowers, you couldn’t keepup. He must have been truly passionate about them in order to learn each andevery one of the meaning behind them. You were awed at his passion.
“That’sthe Jonquil. It was in the first bouquet I gave you,” He scratched the back ofhis head nervously, “It reminded me so much of you back then.”
“Whatdoes it mean?” Intrigued, you asked. Memories of the first time he gifted youwith flowers playing in your mind, and you wished you could relieve it. In truth,you wished you could relieve every moment with him, a thousand times over.
Bothbad and good moments shaped you into who you were, and despite his endlessregrets and sorrows of things he did or said in the past, you wouldn’t change athing.
“Oh,um…something like, ‘Desire for Love Returned’.” He mumbled, dropping his gazeto his lap again.
Yourmind soared and chest tightened at his words, “But that first bouquet…you gaveit to me way before we were together.”
“Yeah,I know.”
“Sincethen…you’ve felt this way since back then?”
Hefinally met your eyes again and nodded, “Since always, MC.”
Yourheart leaped, a warmth deliciously spreading throughout the entirety of yourbody as his words echoed in your mind, Since always.
Againyou wondered if this growing feeling for him would ever stop or diminish, but thevery thought of it seemed impossible at that second. You never wanted to stop,you never desired to be away from him for even a day. This was love, you finally understood.
Youcupped his cheek and brought his lips to yours, gently. Such a small and simpleaction held so much passion that Saeran was taken aback by it, but melted intoyou soon after, deepening the kiss as well as his feelings for you.
Yourhands moved from his face down to the nape of his neck, attempting to bring himeven closer and satisfy your craving for him.
Heheld on to you dearly, feeling so feather-light with love he was afraid hemight float away. Through flowers or through words, he knew his feelings wereway too strong to convey. He feared you’d never truly know the extent of hisfeelings for you due to the lack of words in the dictionary and flower breedsin the world. He tried pouring all his emotions, his fears and his dreams intohis kisses, this one being no different. He needed you to know how badly hewanted you, needed you, in ways thatexceeded just physical. Saeran wanted you to realize through his touch how muchhe truly loved you.
Gentlekisses turned into deep, ardent ones as both of you craved each other more andmore after each touch. His lips started wandering from your lips to your cheeksand down your neck, slowly and enticingly. He titled your head to expose more ofyou, stopping at your collar-bone. Each time his lips came in contact with yourskin, a million chills raced up your spine, making you shiver with delight.
Youran your hands through his bleached-white hair, admiring some red roots thatwere starting to poke out. In the most innocent way possible, you let out asoft moan, relishing the feeling of his lips on you.
“Ilove you, Sae.”
Hismovements slowed down upon hearing your words, becoming gentler once again. Yourlips met, as if silently disclosing all the words he could not even begin to utter.
“Ilove you, MC.”
Hewas your star, your moon, your sun.And if he were your star, you were his entire universe.
Youpulled away from him briefly, catching your breath and taking a second to fullysavor this moment, to softly run your fingers through his hair, on his cheeks, until theymet his swollen lips. He kissed your fingertips lightly, adoringly. It wasenough to make your heart flutter even more than it already was.
Jonquil,you thought, positive you’d never forget this flower again.
