#[ victory violet. ] violet m. / visage.

[loyalpromise]

violet tag dump:

[ victory violet. ] violet m. / answered. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / about. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / headcanon. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / interaction. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / style. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / aesthetic. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / likes. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / fc. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / reply. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / musings. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / music. [ victory violet. ] violet m. / visage.

[c-atm]

Possessive Protection

Possessive Protection

“This...This is wrong…”

Connie whispered that to herself as she stepped back, fear and confusion on her face. Holding her broken arm.

“This is so wrong..”

In front of her stood a familiar face, body, build, and damaged attire; a familiar visage all around.

A usually heart-skipping, cheek redding visage. One of charm and a dapper style. A visage that haunted her dreams in the most pleasant ways..

This was not the same, nowhere near it.

Despite the form, the differences were far too prominent. It was ghastly, it’s ‘Steveny’ shape flickering like a flame, ready to burn everything and it was violet.

So violet and viscous.

The purple imposter didn’t look at her at all, his..

It’s attention on the bull-like demon who was slowly getting up after being rammed through a pillar by the purple devil.  

“That’s it, rise to your feet. Regenerative bastard”

 The slasher grin on his 'Steveny' face and the blow horn pitch put her on edge, as the Minotaur snarled towards the devil, fear in its throat as the purple devil gilded forward. With a roar, the Minotaur charged forward it’s  red eyes promising death, each step cracking the tiles underneath them.It stuck forward with a punch towards the devil, it’s fist as big as the devils skull.

On instinct, Connie was prepared to scream in concern.

Only for the sound of ripping flesh to steal that worry for his well-being and replace it with fear of his abilities, as the purple Steven tore the forearm of the minotaur from its body..Before knocking the minotaur across the skull and onto its face,in front of his feet

With said arm..

“Now, a lesson to share to those in hell “ The devil teased, before bringing the limb down the minotaur skull again, like a goddamn mallet. A sickening smash of flesh resounding in the concert hall. He lifted the limb high with a frown.

“Do not…"

and brought it down again…

"Ever.."

And again

"Touch what…"

and again

"Belongs to me!"

The violent, violet demon continued to crack the minotaur head with ruthless abandon, in a pure frenzy. Each strike harder than the last. Bone and smashed flesh scattered along the walls as he beat the long silenced monster. He didn't stop until he felt Connie grabbed his waist.

"Stop, Steven! Please!"

He looked back at her with a bit of a glare. 

"Steven?" He tossed the limb aside carelessly, allowing it and the Minotaur body to fade away in a black smoke leaving a gem.

His cold, slithering voice caused her to step back, chilling her heart. So different from the pleasing tone of her beloved partner.

 Facing him face to face, staring at his dead black eyes and dark purple pupils froze her spine and stole her breath.

"I guess that's not completely wrong."  He chuckled. Looking at her holding her arm, he stalked towards her.

"You're hurt, boon."

"Boon?" Connie inquired trying to push down her fear as she stepped back. She soon found herself between a pillar and the violet demon. She shivered as he moved his face close to her neck breathing in her fright with a teasing chuckle.

"Who are you?" 

He smirked at the steel in her voice. "Me?..I'm what 'he' hides from you, my boon." 

She trembled as he lifted his hand to her chin and ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

'So cold like the arctic, It feels as if I'll freeze to death staying by him.'

She moved her face away from his grip, sneering at the doppleganger. "What do you mean, 'you are what he hides?' "

His eyes narrowed as he gripped her chin tightly. "Hey now, You should be appreciative to me, fledgling. I did save your ass…" He smirked as he looked her up and down, lingering at her hips a bit. "Cute as it is."

*WHAP!* 

The sound of Connie slapping the demon reverberated against the hall.

"Disgusting Demon!" She roared, her eyes blazing in anger. "I don't know who you think you are to speak to me like that, but you are NOT MY STEVEN!"

He laughed cruelly but respectfully, licking the blood off his lip.  "Ooh, I understand why he's so taken with you .That beautiful blazing spirit to match that body….You're definitely worthy to be my boon." Giving her a hungry grin, he kissed her deeply.

Connie screamed through the kiss before pushing the purple beast back with both arms.  

"Bastard!" She swung a fist at the devil who dodged the blow. She attacked again with her left, recently healed, fist only to have him  grab her hand and pull her close 

Black eyes met violet, fiery rage met possessive obsession.

"Is that how you treat someone who healed you? That's fine, it makes me want you m-"

The purple demon voice started to strain as he backed up. Pain on his face as his hands gripped his head and the purple began to flicker and dim.

"HOW DARE YOU!?" The familiar voice of the Steven she knew, ranged out of the demon. "YOU DARE TO DISRESPECT HER!?" 

"I protected and healed her in your stead HUMAN! HOW I take my reward from my boon, my property, is my business...Besides it's not like you don't feel the same way!." 

Connie could only watch shocked, fear and embarrassment on her face as the purple demon fell to the floor on all fours, clawing at the marble scarring it like a jagged knife as he argued in agonizing pain with himself.

"SHUT UP!"

"It's true!!"

"Get out!!"

"You lust for her!"

"I SAID LEAVE, VIOLET!"

Connie covered her mouth as she watched Steven lift his head and thundered out as he clawed his face, ripping the purple flame off his visage and tossing it to the side. 

"S-S-Steven?" Connie cautioned as she took a step forward,  seeing him back to normal, breathing hard on all fours, quivering a bit.

"My..My lady." 

That voice as tired and broken as it was shook her heart as it always did...Connie took a step forward only for Steven to raise his hand.

"Hold on, My lady." Steven grunted as he turned to the purple flames watching it form to a ghostly purple spectre of himself. 

"Violet." His voice was full of hate as he stood in front of Connie protectively. 

“Steven" Violet responded as his translucent and ghostly figure  floated in place, a smirk on his face. "What do you think you're doing?" He pointed his finger tauntingly. “I know you don't think you're gonna keep me from My Boon in some misguided act of protecting her."

"There's nothing misguided about keeping My Lady safe...Especially from the likes of you."  Steven stood in a low stance, his hands in front of his chest in a clawed stance. 

"Don't you mean...'Likes of ME?" Violet grinned, his purple eyes staring straight into Steven's pink ones, before taking one glance at the witch among them. "We're one in the same, My boon."

"Stop talking to.."

"Are you serious?" Connie watched Steven's shoulder tensed ever so lightly. "Steven?"

"I'm his truest, darkest feelings made sentient and given form...You can call me Violet, My Boon."

"SHE ISN'T YOUR BOON!!"

"But she's your 'Lady'? Possessive, aren't we…"

Steven growled ready to strike, when a calming hand rested on his shoulder.

"Steven…"

Steven turned to look at Connie, a flash of shame in his eyes, before turning forward. He breathed deeply and relaxed his stance. "Come on Violet, enough playing." His glare stood as he held out his hand.

Violet kissed his teeth."'What do you mean? No games are being played."

"What's your objective here then, What are you trying to accomplish?"

"....You are useless..as a familiar" Violet growled " You fail at protecting our possession far too often., I refuse to trust you with My boon…:

Steven didn't say anything in response. His fist clenched in anger as his other words hit his heart.

"He protects me just fine, Monster." Connie spoke from behind her Steven, staring defiant at Violet as she stood beside her partner

"As long as I'm present, yes." Violet retorted " All those victories, all those rescues..They could have never been achieved without darker designs. Without me being present, Boon."

"I'm just as capable without you." Steven answered as he cracked his fingers.

"Allowing something to break our things shows capability?!" 

"How about you stop talking as If I’m an object." Connie Intervened, the crest on her wrist glowing. 

"You are!" Violet barked "You are my Boon, Meant to benefit me and enrich my life for my protection power and service.. That's the basis of our contract.!"

"Is that so." She smirked as she thought of what Violet just stated. "Then fulfill your part of the deal Violet and heed my command. RETURN TO STEVEN!"

Before Violet could fathom what was going on, he found himself being pulled towards his more benevolent half. He couldn't  fight it for long at all.. Her command was absolute and felt the need to see it through right down to his core..The need to get her favor.

He hated it, the feeling of being controlled even by her, the lack of freedom annoyed him. At the same time, it made Violet that more obsessive over his boon. Unlike Steven, who wants an equal love with the witch, he would be happy with her completely submitting to him, to stay untainted by unworthy hands. 

To remain his Boon and only touched by him.

"Remember,..I AM HIS THOUGHTS GIVEN FORM, MY BOON! EVERYTHING I SAID. EVERYTHING I DID. HE HAS THE SAME CAPACITY AS WELL!"

Violet gave a howling laugh as he was pulled towards Steven fading out of sight. 

Steven grunted and shook his head, the feeling of rejoining with Violet in such away was a new experience, a worryingly one as well. His confrontations with Violet had never been in the waking world until now. He didn't  have time to think it over as He felt two arms wrapped around him and a head on his chest. 

" My. My lady-I-"

"You're warm.." She gripped the back of his ripped shirt and smothered her face in his mid. "Stars above, you're so warm….It's a lively warmth." 

Steven could only hold her back as she began to quiver and his shirt began to dampen.

[gcrdenofpixels-a]

'play hide - and - seek' Lenore apparently wants to attempt play with the others her age-

{🌼; σн ℓιттℓε cнιℓ∂, тεℓℓ υs ∂σ тнε ғℓσωεяs тεℓℓ үσυ sεcяεтs ωнεη тнεү ғιη∂ үσυ αℓℓ αℓσηε? || *Violet//Viola || @angeliclucidity​​​ || 🌼SPRING PROMPTS || No Longer Accepting! (x).}

play hide - and - seek

     [❀❀🌼; тнє кιи∂нєαятє∂ νισℓєт]: Visitors of the garden were always familiar to Viola, this girl, in particular, was quite well-known, given that her visits were always fixed to one of the more difficult flowers, Chara. There was a part of Viola that found j o y in the bonds that her fellow flowers formed with others from beyond the Garden’s gates. 

     ❀❀🌼 || However, this certain day, Chara was back in their home timeline within the Garden’s Cluster of Worlds, the crestfallen expression on the blonde guest’s visage was something the girl hadn’t missed. Abandoning her unfinished flower garland, she makes her way towards the girl, warm hands clasped around almost transparent fingers, emerald pools shimmered with c h e e r as she immediately captured the other’s attention.

{🌼}: ❝Hello…! You’re Lenore, aren’t you? My name’s Viola! Chara’s told us lots about you. They’re currently in their home timeline but they’ll be back in a bit, why don’t you play hide and seek with me to pass the time?❞

     ❀❀🌼 || Viola excitedly drags her new companion to the lush, green forests that surround the Pixel Estate, relaying the instructions of the game as she led Lenore to a clearing, she loosened her grip from the other’s wrist, she placed both hands on her waist as she took a deep breath of fresh air. 

{🌼}: ❝It’s a nice day outside, isn’t it? A perfect day for a game. I’ll be ‘it’ first, I’m going to hide somewhere, so come and find me. I won’t give a time limit, the forest is really vast, If you get lost or stray too far just call for me and I’ll come and get you.❞

     ❀❀🌼|| Once Lenore had begun to count down, the pre-teen hopped over several patches of dew-covered moss, skipping over bushes to duck behind a large fallen tree, finding solace at the cover of the large trunk. She sits on the soft earth, waiting… silently, patiently, it took the other quite a while to discover her. Green eyes meet mismatched ones as the pair reunited. Viola vaguely recalled some of the things Chara rambled about. How Lenore’s eyes resembled the twin stars Albireo, it was quite a lovely observation, and they were correct. She sighed in endearment, musing about how lucky this girl is to be loved that dearly. She bats away her distraction, and with glee, she announces Lenore’s victory.

{🌼}: ❝You found me!❞

[goldenscript]

31. congratulations (m)

↳ prompt: the night we shared in the car → soccer player!jooheon

pairing: lee jooheon | reader genre: college au / fluff, smut word count: 4,527 author’s note: wishing the happiest of birthdays to my dearest @yongceo! <3 even though this was painfully late (at least painful to me), i hope you enjoy this min bean!

4 to 4.

When soccer season rolls in, there’s only one thing on everyone’s mind—championships. It’s silly to say that something like this is nothing more than just a sport, that whatever happens that year won’t define the players (or even the audience), but that’s the thing: it does. It matters. It matters to you (an avid watcher). It matters to the coach (for obvious reasons). It matters to the players (duh!). And most of all, it matters to Jooheon, the team’s captain, who lives, breathes, and exhales this damn game.

Not only is the fate of the team’s position as a ranking school on his shoulders, but the maintenance of his members, because he demands they be in tip-top shape to even step foot on the practice field, because ironically enough, this is more than a game to him. It’s literally everything. What his entire academic career has been built around is kicking around a black and white checkered ball, practices (mornings and evenings), and the very success that he promises to bring and almost always does!

Despite only being a third year, he’s ranked as one of the top center forwards in the entire collegiate league, and he’d be damned to let that moniker go to waste. Tonight, of all nights, is the defining moment in his career, in the university’s name for their sports team. And although the first two years has been a build up of getting this very moment, everyone is still praying and hoping that he can finally be proud enough to walk off the field with an invitation to championships at the start of spring.

Even though you aren’t on the field, you can feel the nerves from the surrounding observers; hell, you can even feel them from everyone else traipsing around.  

The players are trying to tip the balance on the scale, while the audience do their best to send their best wishes to their respective sides of the bleachers. Only a minute ticks down on the fluorescent red clock, each second clicking with enough speed to readjust the beating your heart as your eyes darted the opposite ends of the field in an attempt to follow the scene before you.

Pandemonium breaks out on all ends as the ball volleys between players, one of which you recognize as your boyfriend and the other as the man who had initially been antagonizing him in the beginning, the two are going head to head, trying to gain control over the one key to their success. All this game needs is one more goal and then their school were in with a new challenge to push the team, putting them onto paths for greater and bigger things and that’s all your boyfriend needs to keep him from succumbing to the exhaustion threatening to overtake his lungs (and the fact that—you know this damn well—he’s at a very high refusal to put your good luck kiss and hair tying to waste).

He quickly jukes past the antagonizer and between two of the opposing team’s defenders, flashing the trio an almost apologetic grin because out of everyone, of course he knows just how much they wanted this win—who wouldn’t?

Without a second thought, he quickly passes the ball over to Jungkook and sends a stern nod at the taller boy. Jeon’s only a first year, but his stats are no joke, with a rising record like his, it’s no wonder Jooheon trusts him to make the final shot. The brunet gives a mighty kick, sending a flurry of black and white flying past everyone and into the net before anyone else can even blink, let alone breathe.

As if anticipating any other outcome, everyone else seems to wait until the scoreboard officially changes, gleaming brighter than the stadium lights and the final buzzer echoing into the cool night—

5 to 4.

And boy, did everyone holler.  

The roar of cheers travels down to the players like a monotonous hum, creating a veil of discordance to shroud you even as you create some distance from it. All of the noise intermingles with the heavy breathing from the players and the very faint sounds of droplets hitting the mesh of their jerseys in a not-so-pretty fashion. Well, red-cheeked, heavy breathing, and sweaty Jooheon will always be one of your favorite sights anyway...

But, between the cold sweat running down their backs and victory hanging over their heads, neither of those things could’ve stopped Jooheon from breaking away from the group’s celebratory dogpile. With his back turned away from them, his eyes scan the bleachers before they settle on you already on the field, and it’s all that he can seem to focus on.

Punctuated with a grin so bright and so blinding like the bleacher’s overhead lights, you’re quite awestruck, stopping on the track as you watch his legs carry him to you. His slick arms envelop you in a tight embrace before you can even get a word out, “Jooheon, oof—”

You literally find yourself a devoid of words, only a sensation of going airborne on this chilly post-autumnal evening. At least, the flying lasts for about a full revolution until he sets you down, still grinning and elated more than ever. “Congrats—”

Yet again he cuts you off, his lips pressed firmly against your lips before he pulls back. “Can you believe it? We really did it!”

You laugh, tightening your hold around the front of his jersey and pulling him into your arms. He falls into your touch, tightening his sudden hold on your waist. His warmth is seeping into your cold limbs and it makes you want to hold on tighter. Just to keep this moment commemorated to memory, because it feels monumental even to you. You’re about to say something when a sharp whistle breaks into the still bubble of your little world, coaxing the two of you to look up and remain planted right beside one another.

Minhyuk flashes a wolfish grin at the two of you, “Y/N, please thank Jooheonie for us, ‘kay? Party at our place if you guys are interested, too!”

The rest of the team jogs over to thank their captain, patting his shoulder, and even greeting you with kind smiles and tired eyes. It’s a sweet moment until Jooheon puts the blond in a chokehold for the crude comment.

You can’t help but laugh as you send a wink toward Minhyuk, setting your sights on Jooheon as he leads you toward the locker rooms so he can catch a quick shower before you two go out and celebrate for the night. If only he had a clue...

—

It’s a tradition to have a celebratory make out session in Jooheon’s car.

Often times, you’ll come by to see him after his evening practice because the library is a few blocks away from the stadium, and when you do, he’ll offer you a ride back to the residence halls. Because of this, the sight of his flushed cheeks and slick visage (because sometimes he just can’t be bothered to shower at the school when he can just do it at his apartment), you can’t help but initiate these heated moments.

They’re always involuntary, of course. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re trying to kiss him until you look at him from the corner of his eyes trying to wipe away a droplet and it’s just… game over for you. All forms of impulse control fly out the window, and you’re meeting his eyes with the look that says it all. One moment you two are flying down the freeway toward your dormitory and another minute, you two are pulling off at the back roads near the rest stops and all you can feel is his hot, heady breath against yours and your wandering hands only a millimeter away from the one sweet spot that you’re aching to touch and he’s aching to be touched.

It’s rare for the two of you to consummate these desires in this kind of venue, where the risk of being seen and caught are at its highest, and whether the perpetrators are the roadside patrols or some passersby wandering around, but the very prospect is enticing. You quiver at the thought of stripping yourself bare just for him in the small cabin of his vehicle, straddling his lap and placing open-mouthed kisses across those glorious collarbones in a flurry of violets and faint fuschias, and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue in whimpers.

He loves it all.

He loves the thrill of whatever may come if either of you get caught,and the very act of getting lost in the heat of the moment — it’s unlike any adrenaline rush he’s ever felt during a game. He’s told you this before in a drunken stupor, lips pulled into a pout as he literally voiced his desires to be put in such a risqué position again. And truthfully, you love the pleasure and the control you’re given, because he’s never once been the one to initiate this fantasy.

Like the previous time, your hand rests on his thigh and gives a squeeze closest to his anticipating member. He stiffens the small circles he’s been tracing at your hip and pulls away from your lips to ask with caution, “What are you doing?”

You’ve long since shimmied out of your coat and the sweater, only a thin camisole covering your upper half, and the delicious heat of his skin, now slick more than ever from the close proximity of your body against his, and the heat blasting from the vents, send flames coursing up and down your body.

The flash of recognition, if only for the briefest of seconds beneath the dim lighting of the street light, doesn’t slip your notice as you run your tongue over your bottom lip. You look at him from the tops of your lashes that tell him exactly what you want. It’s exhilarating turning on this switch of seduction just for him, just to see his eyes go wide in that split second before he mirrors your ministration and his reddened bottom lip goes slick and glossy.

“Don’t you like your gift?” you answer with another squeeze to his thigh. This time it’s much closer to the sweet spot, and you feel excitement bubbling in your core. “Can I, honey?”

“W-wait,” he stammers, trying to sit up from the reclined chair. The pout forming on your lips has his stop short and the hardening length beneath you has more apparent. “I—I thought you said that last spring was going to be the last time?”

“I know,” your tone is only a little bitter because it isn’t like you wanted that to bite you in the ass right now, of all times. Because, okay, the only reason why you didn’t want to make any guarantees of this in the future was simple—the fear of losing the taste for it and the fear of getting caught because fucking Changkyun just has to point out that getting caught having car sex by the police would label you and Jooheon as sexual offenders (weird rules, but you double checked and never had the justice system more). But, also for the simple fact that you wanted to be able to surprise him with this offer as reward for things like going to championships because that was huge. So, you tell answer simply, “but consider this a token of congratulations for going to champs, baby.” 

He sighs, “This should be my reward if I win champs...”

From the doubt in his tone, you know more than anyone that Jooheon is the type of person that won’t give himself enough credit even if he deserves it. Even though championships were ages away, he was still thinking about that instead of the success in your current time. He’s prone to this thinking, disregarding his successes because he believes that if he’s stuck in just that one moment then he won’t escape and he won’t do any better than he did then, and perhaps this is yet another reason for you to show him that he deserves to celebrate moments like these. Not just for your sake or his teammates’ (Minhyuk has voiced plenty of his concerns before), but for his own and that makes you even more resolved on showing him just how precious and how well-deserved the praise he receives isn’t bullshit or obligatory nonesuch everyone’s prone to spewing when in the right moment.

You tug on his collar so he’ll look at you, the light flush on his cheeks seem to be fading but the forlorn look in his eyes makes you a little sad. Your tone is soft and careful, a twinge of whining etched between the words, “But that’s too long from now…”

“Baby…” He matches your tone, but the corners of his lips are upturned. It’s a blatant attempt to throw you off the baseless put-downs echoing through his head.

Your eyes narrow ever-so-slightly, because he should know better than anyone that there is no throwing you off this trail when you’re set on making him feel better. You trace the marks you created on his skin as you try once again, “What do you say, honey? Be adventurous for once.”

He laughs — the sound far from his usual jovial sound. In response, your features don’t relent in the slightest because as much as he’s trying to brush you off right now, there’s no way in hell you’re letting yourself getting thrown off. Not when it’s him; in your eyes, he truly deserves the world, and you refuse to let him think otherwise.

Another decision gets made that has his eyes go wide as the black cotton gets thrown off into the growing pile of clothes where your seat was. You’re about to reach for the hook of your bra until you hear him groan, “God, you’re so fucking hot right now.”

As his head hits the headrest completely and his eyes shut, you swear you hear him say under his breath, “I want you,” and knowing him, there’s no way you could’ve misheard him. In a way this gives you one more shot at getting him to concede officially because you know for a damn fact that he wants this even if he doesn’t think he deserves it.

You roll your hips against his and press your lips to his, “I know.”

Of course, you know.

If there’s one thing Jooheon has done for you (among the plenty of other things that has come with being in a relationship with him), it’s that he’s made you feel loved and appreciated in ways you never thought you could feel.

There’s a softness with him that has been so rare to find in previous significant others, it’s hard to imagine you ever let yourself date anyone else, because he makes you feel beautiful and loved. He’s patient even when you’re taking ages to find the right blouse and encouraging when everything else has sapped your strength. Sometimes just looking at him gives you motivation to keep going, to keep growing as a person, and that’s what being with someone should be like — even if you’re made for yourself, others can help you grow into yourself. They can love you and help you along the way of your journey, and with him, it’s always been a steady growth, with the natural ups and downs, and you know that in all that time he’s only ever tried to make you feel like how he sees you.

Even though you haven’t done the same as often as you wish you did, you absolutely refuse to let this opportunity to do exactly what he’s done for you to slip past your fingers, because goddammit, you love Lee Jooheon and knowing that he loves you too will always have you wanting the best for him and his golden heart.

He relinquishes a moan, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He’s fallen into your clutches from the rutting of your hips are met with some reciprocation and the caress of his fingertips assisting you in the removal of your brassiere. A rush of tranquil focus settles between the two of you as you calculate your next move and do exactly what feels good for the both of you.

As soon as that article of clothing joins the rest of the pile, his hand rests back on your hips and guides you against him for a best taste of the unrelenting friction between your leggings and his jeans. You can feel his length straining now that it’s begging to be free, but you keep him in place to grab the bottom of his shirt and lift it up and over him to join the ever-growing tower beside you two. It’s an intimate moment as you slide your hands up and down his torso and let your bare skin touch his before capturing his lips once more.

The pillowy softness is an addictive feeling as you kiss him over and over again, resting your hands on the sides of his face because you want him to know you’re here and you’re not going anywhere. You hope that each time he tastes you, he’ll taste the love and affection you always wish to show him even if you can’t with the stresses of school weighing on your shoulders. You hope that whatever fears plaguing his mind are silenced, if only for this moment, just to give the two of you this moment together.

What you relish in the most isn’t just the thrill of possibly getting caught, it’s the stillness of the road where no one pays a damn mind to either of you two and lets you both be as you are. Everyone has their own destination, sometimes they’re not even there to congregate on the road, and the camouflage of the back roads have always tickled your fancy for the privacy. The very intimacy of having him all to yourself while everyone else is off doing their own thing, whether it’s his roommates throwing a party or your fellow RAs covering your shift because neither of you really ever have the time to breathe with the loom of responsibility and the obligation of education resting on your shoulders.

You know damn well that when you make the most of your time with Jooheon, you want to feel good and you want him to feel good, so the moment he releases another whimper, a lot more pained than before, you ease off him and search his visage for an answer.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” your voice is no louder than a hushed murmur, awaiting a response now that he seems a little less in pain but still discomfort riddled over his fair-skinned features.

His response is soft in tone, but far from innocent, relinquishing flames all across your core: “I really, really want you, Y/N….”

There’s just something about these small admissions that get you albeit they come every-so-often from him, hearing it is all the more motivation for your confidence to spike and a sense of control to wash over you.

Your fingertips draw soothing circles across his forearm, “Well, all you had to do was ask.”

“You little shit,” he scoffs with a smile on his lips.

You wink at him, “Only for you.”

Sitting on the pile of clothing, you use that opportunity to shimmy out of your leggings and underwear as he kicks off his jeans and shoves his boxers down to his ankles. He grabs a spare T-shirt from his open duffle bag in backseat and places it beneath him and his hand reaches past you for the box of condoms he keeps in the glove compartment. He’s about to beckon you over now that he’s fully equipped to the onslaught of pleasure that’s to come with you, but before he can slip on the condom, you take matters into your hands.

Slipping the rubber onto him, you make sure to involve an additional pressure just to hear a sharp exhale part his lips. Sometimes akin to your name floats across the air, enough to act on your own desires by coming back to him. He always manages to soften your resolve even as you attempt to tease him and draw out these moments you share together. It’s been far too long since you’ve had this much free time with him, and having it makes it a little too hard not to just jump him right on the spot.

You’re careful not to bump your head, musing now that you’ve settled yourself back onto his lap, “Better?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans, bucking his hips against your exposed core. Your excitement is bubbling over though it’s not as obvious as your beloved boyfriend’s. The feeling of his hardened member elicits a shudder, however.

A part of you already wanting to relinquish your own moan just out of the sheer possibilities that’ll come within the hour, but instead you shakily ask as you rise from your spot and position him to your entrance, “Ready?”

“Y-yes,” he says, nodding slower now that you’re beginning to ease him into you. He throws his head back, a rather loud thump! considering just how close your proximity is, though he gives you no time to react as he shuts his eyes and places on hand on your hip and the other on the side of your face.

With his fingertips poised against your skin, there’s nothing else you want in this world—of course, aside from your degree and a well-paying job. Being with Jooheon is nothing less than a fairytale mixed with the reality that not everything is as easy as getting the prince, but the butterflies and the wondrous adoration you feel for him hasn’t lessened even a little bit over the years. From the old days in high school when you two had to sneak around your dad’s back to the days when he worked at that café pining from afar; who knew this is what would come from your friends’ meddling? (They say they didn’t but you know damn well that Changkyun and his rival wanted nothing more than the formation of this relationship and its flourishing.)

To you, it’s amazing how much time and how much chance has come to play in both your lives—that these precious moments you two could share would be so gentle despite how raucous the venues would be. Although you weren’t always this kind of person to do these sorts of things, you’ve found that sharing them with him makes them better. It’s not cheap or quick with this man; in fact, it’s beautiful and memorable.

The sounds he makes are nothing short of your name and the thing he would do—the oh-so-glorious things—that only seem to make your hips respond with fluid sharpness until you’re absolutely certain that the spot getting hit is in fact the spot. Because although you two have had time and experience to learn one another’s bodies, there is still lots of learning to do—the sort you don’t mind in the slightest knowing that your growth is in sync with him.

Your evolution together has led to these moments—special ones—that you’ll carry for as long as you live. This car as beat-down and well-worn as it is carries more memories than any journal can, it’ll commemorate the night he won qualifiers, and hell, it’ll probably do the same for when he actually does win championships. Or maybe it’ll be the place you comfort him. Either way, it’s a place that as unconventional as it is stands to be your favorite one where you share laughs, memories, and conversations that can’t seem to parallel any other.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur against his lips, rolling your hips once more in the same manner as the previous, you find yourself hit the perfect spot.

He perks up, kissing your cheek and making his way down your neck. “There, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, continuing the same ministrations. “N-no marks, honey!”

He pouts, nodding against your neck and tickling your visage with his wonderfully soft dark locks. “Love you~”

You smile, placing your hands on both sides of his face just so he can face you. “And I love you, too.”

You smile, placing your hands on both sides of his face just so he can face you. “And I love you, too.”

He’s looking at you, even in the half-assed lighting you can see that he’s looking at you like you’re the best damn thing in the world again. It doesn’t happen as often as many think, but when you catch it on off-chances like this one, you’re left awestruck. The very need to show him just how much he means to you overtaking your body, though it seems he wants to do the same exact thing.

He gives you yet another kiss, this time with a fervent hunger as he puts his all into this one gesture that has you reeling. Your heart goes haywire in your chest, pressing closely against his as you match his pace down below even with your thighs filling with lactic acid and crying for mercy, you can’t help but continue on to finish off that high that’s overtaken you both.

With his name on the tip of your tongue already entering the heady air of the car, you feel the euphoria of warmth and bliss so hot, you’re practically writhing at his touch. It’s like this every single time. Each shared moment seemingly newer than the last like everything has changed each time you both come together. The sight is dim and seedy, but you can make out his half-lidded eyes and his parted lips. It’s truly a sight to behold.

As soon as your own name departs his lips not too long afterwards, leaving you even hotter as you bring his lips back to yours once more for that final kiss.  

You grin up at him, stroking back the stray locks of dark hair. “Seriously. Congratulations, honey.”

“Thank you, baby,” he replies, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “Thank you so much.”

—

Twenty minutes later, the two of you are clean and headed toward your dormitory. His hand is held in yours, giving a squeeze every-so-often just to hear your soft giggle and receive a squeeze right back. The warmth in your heart wholesome and encompassing, even at the stoplight where a soft silence lapses beyond the music playing at the lowest volume in the background.

“I love you,” you decide to say, looking over at him with what you’re sure is the same adoration he always musters around you. You don’t do this because you know he loves it, rather you do it because you want to—you feel it in your heart.

He presses his lips to your forehead, “I love you too.”

And he does. You know that, and hearing it makes you feel like you’ve won some sort of qualifier for championships.

If only you knew just how much he thought this was better than winning any kind of game.