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juyeonszn · 3 months

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PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon smut #kevin x reader #kevin smut #moon hyungseo #blackoutorbackout🍻#juyeonszn

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hyungseos-cafe · 2 months

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“go where you feel the most alive”

Order for: @kimsohn

┊⋆ ˚✯✩. Songs to listen to: easily by bruno major, camped by rini, i feel like by gaeko, kwon jin ah .✩✯⋆ ˚ ┊

#hyungseos-cafe #matcha bubble tea #the boyz #the boyz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #the boyz moodboard #the boyz sunwoo moodboard #kpop moodboard #museum aesthetic #museum date #order status: complete

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from-izzy · 5 months

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that's him, that's just who he is | tbz kevin moon

» PAIRING: tbz kevin moon x gn! reader (proofread but lmk if i missed anything!) » TROPE/AU: childhood friends 2 strangers, highschool and slight uni au!, non-idol au!, idol au! (just kevin towards the end) » GENRE: once again...angst, fluff and comfort from the flashbacks, kevin being an extremely supportive friend, you're also an extremely supportive friend!, platonic 'i love you's being said, you both met at church, choir and ensemble singing!, you both are shy introverts that are only chaotic with each other » WORD COUNT: 4179 (2k word limit who?) » ESTIMATED READING TIME: ~15 mins » WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!): mentions of Christianity (not sure if it's a 'warning' but i felt like it should be mentioned!), swearing (b-word), mentions stress relating to: academic (high school), music and performing » PLAYLIST: you never know - HSMTMTS, you better know - red velvet, reflection - christina aguilera, steal the show - lauv, try everything - shakira navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist

my second story for my project! this may be my favourite story ever ❤️‍🩹

ahhhh this got so personal so quickly 🥹 performing has always been for leisure for me, and for the same reasons in this story, i got so burnt out last year. writing this really made me realise how much i miss the stage. going from about 7 performances a year to only about 1 is to put it simply, heartbreaking.

but i learnt that there are opportunities. i learnt that i'm satisfied with just getting my voice out to the world whether it be through choir, the internet or on the streets. i think things will work out; time does help sometimes 🫶

for those who may not know, kevin's representative number is 16 🌙 and the meaning of this number is explained in this video! i did some research and found that it's from 1 Peter 5:6.

to my readers who are followers of God: I pray that you will always be filled with hope and joy as you advance in your daily endeavours. Believe that God has the best plans for you and that He will never leave you behind, especially when you are at your lowest. Confide in Him and love Him as much as He loves you.

“Can I sing this part with Kevin?”

The question is new to everyone who heard it. Did you just ask to do a supposed solo with someone else? No, you were not a greedy performer though you understood why most people would think that. The choir conductor looks to the other side of the ensemble where the group of altos stood. Including the older woman, all the children including the said boy stood there surprised at the request you asked for.

You’ve been singing in the church youth choir since you were ten and you were incredibly gifted. For example, you landed most of the solos and smaller ensemble parts whenever there was a chance. At first, you didn’t want to be in this church because you were shy (incredibly shy) and you never made a lot of friends in school and most definitely, outside of school. Needless to say, your parents were pretty worried but at the very least, they found that when you were asked to go to church events, you were able to talk with people, smile, and laugh but then you would go back into your shell.

Your parents met at this church through singing and performing together as part of the choir and the band. The children were around your age but you found that your interests mainly conflicted with them and it was hard to keep up with their conversations.

So, when a certain Moon family moved into your area and started attending their local church, Kevin, who happens to be a boy who is incredibly gifted in music, joined the choir with that unique, radiant, excited smile on his face. With a simple and friendly “Hello everyone. My name is Kevin, I’m fifteen and am very excited to be here!” Contrasting to his introduction, you found that Kevin was just as introverted as you were and with your courage to finally approach someone, you made your first friend. School life became better as well when you found out that Kevin attended the same school as you.

Going back to the first dialogue though, the duet did happen and the church community knew that you both were the perfect musical partners for each other. Your softer soprano voice complimented Kevin’s deeper alto voice easily. You both found yourself auditioning, performing, and showcasing your team work together in a bunch of school, church, and even the larger community-based musical events.

Now, after eight years of joining the choir, three after meeting Kevin, you were both in a state of uncertainty, distress, and frustration with the piles of sheet music that scattered everywhere to the point where it was almost covering the surface of your room’s floor. Your hair strands were everywhere and you were sick with the school uniform that you’ve had on since seven in the morning. You both have been secluding yourselves in your room, going back and forth with the arrangement of your final high school piece that you are going to perform with Kevin within less than a week.

The current situation in one word: messy.

It’s all a mess. About a week ago out of nowhere, your voice decided to have its own mind and leave for about a week. Kevin had a sudden test that his teacher thought would be fun to assign at the last minute. You also had this assignment that you were going to do but you found a mistake in the written arrangement, a note that was about a tone and a half out of your range, and since Kevin was better at rhythm, arrangement, and using the composing software, you could only sit next to his left in the corner of your room as he groaned at how the app was not doing what you both wanted to do.

So yes…it’s a mess, and it’s been around three hours.

“This is impossible.” A few more of your tears manage to trickle down your already red, puffy cheeks, “Okay you know what, I’ll just sing it. It’s fine. It’s not even two tones above what I usually sing in AND I’ve done it befo—”

“Lost your voice and felt lightheaded after.” Kevin cuts off your panicked rambles. No doubt, he’s feeling all the things that you are feeling right now but the only reason why he’s still able to muster up a smile and just ‘inhale, exhale’ through it all is because at the very least, one of you should be able to stay grounded, “We’re not going to put out a performance that we’re not proud of, okay? Especially when this is our last high school performance together.”

“We also said that we wouldn’t do any performances that were out of our capabilities.” At these words, you were both reminded of the promise you made to each other in front of your melted ice creams. It was an ‘oath’ that was made when you both realised you would be standing on the same stage, at the same time more often:

We will finish every performance to the best of our capabilities. We will focus more on quality rather than quantity.

At the new educational path that you were about to embark on, automatically closing this one that you’ve been on for just about six years, you were both starting to get greedy, wanting more than anything now to be on stage. With you both turning eighteen, you both couldn’t sing with the youth choir anymore. Taking music as a subject in high school meant there was a certain prerequisite in terms of how many stages you would have to perform; you and Kevin always exceeded this regardless with solos, duets, or larger ensembles. With graduation, however, the granted opportunity to perform would be taken away from you both and you were getting restless.

You were both greedy, forgetting almost all the other priorities that you had set out, and raked the internet for any chances to perform on stage. For the last two months, both of you have been juggling between your heavy study load, auditioning, composing, arranging, practising, and bowing at the end of it all. To the untrained ear, they could have probably missed the way you were momentarily out of tune or the way that Kevin missed his entry due to his fatigue. The greed consumed you both and most of the stages that you performed were nowhere near satisfactory for any standards that you both set for yourself. After the first performance that you were bashing yourself over, you rationalised that you would need to do another one to make up for the ‘loss’ from the previous one. That you NEED to go to another stage to make up for the ‘loss’ from the previous one.

That cycle is deadly and it keeps going for a while.

“Kev…I’m tired.” It feels like after a whole three years of back-to-back, almost seemingly non-stop performances in addition to the sudden addition from the past two months, you have finally hit a wall that you never wanted to admit. Kevin didn’t need verbal words to know the reason behind the lack of enthusiasm and the way the lyrics sing are no longer as projected and emotionful as before; because it was the same way to him.

“I know…” Kevin sighs. He finally relieves the downward strain on his neck, pulling it back up to rest against the wall. Offering you both comfort, he wraps his arm around the back of your shoulder, his palm pulling your left forearm to get you closer to him, “I’m sorry, I can’t get this right.”

“No, don’t say that.” You finally give in, plopping your head on his left shoulder in defeat, “I’m sorry. You’re doing your best.”

You let most of the silence fill you both, the hints of the trackpad clicking and the way the note that Kevin clicked would play out of his laptop’s speaker to audibly confirm the note that he just readjusted on the musical lines. Kevin’s left hand is maneuvering on the trackpad while his hand pats on your head that rested on his left shoulder, humming comfortingly while you calm your racing thoughts.

“But hey.” Kevin finally speaks up, “I just wanted to say that I like how busy this is making me.” Nodding to his own words, “It makes me forget the other subjects for a while.”

You exhale, knowing how much Kevin has been having a hard time with the other core subjects but still wakes up every day and chooses to smile courageously, “But this isn’t the right way. To forget other things, I mean.”

“I know, I know.” The boy lets out a little ‘aha’ when he finally finds the rhythm that you both wanted, playing the bar again and again, tapping his index finger on his thigh as he follows the 4/4 count, “But hey, thanks for accepting this performance even with all the final year-end exams. Or else I would REALLY be overthinking that recent chemistry test.”

“Love you, bro.” Reminding him thoughtfully to calm the noise in his head, “I’m always here for you.”

“Love you too, sis.” Playfully, he makes a fist and gently taps your forehead with his knuckles, emitting a laugh from you, “Just take a rest, okay? I’ll just,” Kevin adjusts his slouching posture, straightening his back fully against the wall so that his shoulders are higher and more comfortable for you to lay on, “be on another war with this app. You would expect I know all the tricks after using it for a year but guess not.”

So yes, it was a bit of a mess but on the bright side, you are both extremely proud of that final stage together as high school students. It earned a huge round of applause from the audience and many thankful regards were given by all the teachers in the department of music. It was a bittersweet feeling to see the head of music cry at the realisation that he would never see his two best students attend his class anymore but he made you both promise to visit once in a while.

But the performance being an open event, neither of you realised the opportunities or the types of people that would attend the concert. And so here you both are in an educational setting but with casual clothing unlike the blazer, tie, and the one hundred percent cotton blouses that you were forced to wear.

“Gosh Kev, you’re so funny!” Kevin smiles nervously, biting on his bottom lip as he refuses to look at you at all. You continued to laugh a little bit more, the tears in your eyes and the stitch on your abdomen growing with each breath you took. It’s when Kevin doesn’t laugh along or show any indications of joining in that you raise your eyebrows, some sort of nervousness in your eyes, “Wait, you’re being serious?!”

“It’s crazy, I know!” You just stare at him in shock, your mouth hanging wide open at your best friend next to you, “I think I’ll take the chance and university can wait. People can apply to university anytime but this?” He is finally telling you his worries and thoughts that have been running endlessly after two months of keeping it in, “It’s kind of time crucial.”

"Yes,” You understood his worries, knowing that the life of being a celebrity or an idol is quite limited. It has never been said explicitly but at least for Korean companies, there is a reason why there is always a certain age limitation when auditioning, “I get that but Kevin, are you sure? I get that you've always been into music and you've always been good at it! Trust me, I know! But you've always wanted to be here as well! You never really wanted to be a musical artist."

"That's why life is crazy right?"

You just finished your last class of the day and surprisingly Kevin shows up, waiting for you, looking conflicted and stressed about a subject that you obviously did not know about. His tired smile told you everything, you being able to read him easily like an open book. Kevin realises this, his shoulder slumping in defeat with how you look at him in concern and he feels your hesitation to keep the conversation going.

“Your ‘passive-aggressive tiger parents’ are good with it?”

“Well,” Reminded of the day that Stella convinced their parents to let him go with his path and to support his desires, “I guess so? They let me do everything and introduced me to music so it ain't my fault!" He finally turns to you for the first time after the laughing fit, "You’ll support me right?"

"Of course I will!" You confirm incredulously, both your eyebrows raising and the volume of the sentence rising with each word, “Damn we only met a bit over three years ago but it really does feel like we’ve been friends since birth.”

Kevin shrugs, happy with your genuine response to his uncertainties, “I’m just cool in that way.”

A roll of your eyes is your only response to him, “So, when’s the last time that I’ll see your ‘slay’ful face?”

He grimaces at the way you worded the adjective, “Ew, what is that word?” But then the truth had to be dropped someday; that being right now, “Y-Yeah about that.”

“Kevin Moon.” You frown at the way he just whistles to avoid the subject, an obvious action to buy time, “Kevin.”

"Not too soon! Like…like five days…"

Comedically, the crows on the campus made their signature noise and you took in the information slowly.

"WHAT THE BLEEP DUDE?!"

"OKAY IN MY DEFENCE I REALLY DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! YOU KNOW HOW INDECISIVE I AM!"

"OKAY BUT YOU NEVER BOTHERED TO TELL ME?!"

"I'M SORRY!"

Smiling at the obvious decrease in the stack of papers that needed to be marked, you decide to stretch your limbs and take a breath of fresh air before your energetic third graders arrive at school. You really left it to the last minute and you can’t wait to finish the last day of the week so that you can chill until another week starts. The weather was strangely gloomy, possibly due to the rainfall and the colder wind. You kind of regretted coming out, especially since the steam from your coffee no longer had that hypnotising white swirl in the air.

But you didn’t leave.

Instead, you even lean over the balcony’s metal railing. Even with the long sleeve covering your elbows, you enjoyed the contrast between your still-healthy body temperature and the icy surface. You weren’t sure why either but you just wanted to bask in the cold air and you can only pray that you weren’t going to get sick. The weather causes your shoulders to tense, bringing them towards the centre of your body to try and conserve some heat. It didn’t work that well but you were still feeling some sort of comfort with the morning weather.

You didn’t realise the time that passed by faster when you were practically doing nothing. The driveway, parking lots, and walkways eventually fill themselves with the diverse colours of school bags, shoes, and hair accessories. Mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead, you prepared your ‘teacher smile’, trying your best to hide your fatigue from the seemingly long week.

"Teacher, teacher!"

You finally lean away from the railing, giving a slight nod to the parent of your most energetic student, and the gesture is returned straight away. Crouching down to match his eye level, you put your palm out to him and he slaps his palm on yours, "Wow. Looks like someone had too much sugar."

"Teacher! Do you know K-Pop?" Your body froze just like the raindrops that didn’t make it to the floor, hanging solid on the rooftop’s overhang, "It's a huge thing right now!"

Oh, if only he knew…

"I can hear your rumbling thoughts like an open book." After his flustered state and a string of apologies that led you to put him in a joking headlock, Kevin grew quiet once again, letting his thoughts fill in the atmosphere between you both, "What's up? And don't lie because you know you suck at it."

The boy attempts to change the subject again, "If it's a book then wouldn't it be read instead of heard?"

"...ok smartass." You stare at him unimpressed with his attempt, "But no seriously, what's up? You know that it's okay not to be okay."

"It's just that…" He ponders, a sad smile on his face as he thinks about his current life situation, "My life is fine as it is right now. It's all great: I'm going to a good university, studying the course I want and I'm looking forward to being a teacher." An eyebrow slowly raised on your side, prompting him to continue, "Why is this happening now? Why is this happening when everything is going fine?" Kevin's facade finally breaks, his eyes pooling with tears with the many unanswered questions, "Why didn't this opportunity come earlier? Maybe when I wasn't in university? I can't even get a refund now…"

"Hey…" Kevin rarely cries in public. For one, you've only seen him cry twice and both times were because he dived in too deep with his plans, making him depressed and lost. You realised once again, with the tears that fell on his jeans that Kevin is not the happy-go-lucky guy who he displays himself to be most of the time. He's human above everything else and even though he always tries to see the best in every situation, it's moments like these that you see your best friend in a different light than the rest of the world, "Money is not all to life, you know? What's the point of stacking up money when you can't even do what you want?"

"But then why would people be so money-crazed then? People work for money…"

"To use it on what they love and need. Some people don't even feel like work is for money." Even though Kevin just stares down at the floor, swinging his legs in the air, you know that he's taking in everything you're saying, "But that's beside the point right now, okay? If making the stage your usual routine will lead you to happiness, then I want you to take it."

"But…why?" The clause can never be fully answered and Kevin knew that despite his multiple endeavours to rake for answers, "Why me? When everything is going well?"

"Because God has different plans for you." Inhaling the colder air, you told yourself to remember this moment between you and him, "I'm not saying you're pretending to be someone you're not. But the moment that you stop pretending, the moment you accept that something out there is better for you, I think will be the moment when you finally accept yourself."

"Are you positive that it'll come?" His voice decreased, along with the final bits of his self-confidence, "The journey of self-acceptance, I mean."

You both have been talking in hushed whispers, as gentle as the whistling wind. But you decide to finally add confidence into the conversation.

"Hey Kevin." The said boy looks up to you, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand…"

"...that he may lift you in due time." He finishes the biblical passage that he has been fascinated with for the longest time.

Satisfied, you nod, proud of him, "I can't answer your 'whys', Kevin. To be honest, I don’t think anyone can." You finally voice your opinion, knowing now that your time with him is limited, "But just know that even though you would have strived here in university, one of God's greatest gifts for you is your musicality."

Your words relieve Kevin of his headache, heartache, and the shirt that he has been clamping since the start of the day. You chuckle when Kevin asks for a hug, opening your arms wide to offer him the best comfort that he will forever cherish and be thankful for. Soothingly, you sway your body side to side, humming the melody to the latest (and last) song that you performed together. Kevin joins in with his harmony which has always left people in awe and starstruck.

"Maybe you're just meant to be up there and twerk in front of the camera and not just to our friends." You comment when the song comes to an end.

"Wow, alright." His sniffles didn't cease even when he dragged the final 'w' and 't'.

"You'll be okay, Kevin." The light but secure taps on his back prove your reassuring words, "I know you will."

"Surely…right?" It's the final question that he would ever ask you about this subject, "As we know, not everything we see on the screen is real. I just feel like I'll lose myself because the idol world wants us to be a certain way."

"No, I don't think you will." You pull Kevin away, pouting at his flushed cheeks and tired face, "I know it's stressful to keep up with society but I hope you know that there will be people that will love and support you. And if you make a mistake? If you lose yourself in shape, way, or form? Then you fight. You fight for your rights and fight for them righteously. You’ll fight because like you always say: learn from relationships. You learn the do's and not do's and still keep the relationship genuine."

“You have that much faith in me?”

“I do.” You tilt your chin high in the air, confidence finally reaching him in the form of a bright smile, "And for those who don’t,” You shake your head, flipping your hair back sassily, “those bitches can walk out the door."

You remember the memory somewhat fondly. To be honest, you found it a bit funny because you lost your best friend over music. You would learn after his departure that you would never find a friend like him ever again. Ironically, it was music that brought you two together—yet it was the same thing that drifted you both apart.

It took a while for you to bounce back. You grew bitter about doing music especially when Kevin no longer answered any of your messages anymore out of nowhere. When you bumped into Stella while grocery shopping, you found out that it was because of his phone ban as a trainee. You remember going home that day, feeling guilty that you blamed him, not considering his external situation; especially when you knew that Kevin would never cut someone off without an explanation. Yes, it’s been lonely; you did lose your best friend after all. At first, you regretted letting him go, you resented him for not texting you back and you avoided the stage because it reminded you of him.

But God had a different plan for you too. Because when you accidentally clicked on one of the recommended videos on your page, the satisfied smile, the happy tears and the relieved exhale showed your real feelings that you were merely in a phase of confusion. All the hate, all the resentment, all faded as soon as you heard the slightly changed vocal timbre that you unfortunately are no longer used to. You found peace with the person who dances happily underneath the flashing, colourful lights with ten other boys.

“Teacher?” The boy’s innocent head tilt pulls you back to the present time and he seems pleased with the way you nod to his question, “I like K-Pop too! I found this group! They’re called THE BOYZ!”

You were amazed at the stars that the topic put to your student’s eyes and you nodded intently to his excited story. It’s not long after when the mother pushes her child in, sitting him down so that you can get on with your priorities. You straighten your knees, standing back up, pushing your hips out side to side to stretch from the unexpectedly long conversation.

“Damn, Kev…” Your shoulders and chest rise at the deep breath and your hands find their place on your hips, “And after all these years…you’re still able to make me smile?”

The starting bell rang just in time for your last student to arrive just before you closed the glass door to block out the outside background noise. With the final student ready and set up, you stand in front of the electronic board that displays the first class of the day. Your mind begins to wonder again, particularly about the boy that you once shared a dream with. Routinely, you rhythmically clap to grab everyone’s attention, and surely enough, the conversations between the students die down, and you give back the fond look that your students gave you.

“Shall we start music class?”

The enthusiastic response answers your wondering thoughts and the question you asked yourself outside the classroom.

“Guess that’s just you, Kevin. That’s just who you are, Kev.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 series introduction 🤍 series masterlist tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

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8myass · 2 months

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.. submit .. pairing. kevin moon x female reader genre. smut pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. who woulda thought your best friend would use the handcuffs you bought him for his birthday on you? wc. 1k cw. best friend!kevin, brat taming dom!kevin, bratty sub!reader tw. dubcon (reader is drunk), handcuffs (f receiving), alcohol consumption, pet names (‘darling’, ‘baby’, ‘babe’, ‘beautiful’, ‘friend’?), name calling (‘slut’), praising, degrading, cursing, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), p in v, breeding, choking, teasing, i think that’s it?? a/n. i should just accept the fact that i won’t ever get a birthday fic posted on time for their birthday ☺️ anyway, i wrote this while i was high at 3 in the morning, so i’m sorry if there’s mistakes :}

“I love seeing you so submissive. Give in to me,” he whispered against the back of your ear, running his soft hands along your delicate skin. You were shivering underneath him, body nearly convulsing against his touch, fingers fumbling with the material holding your wrists to the headboard behind you.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he purred, fingers gently caressing your moist and reddened cheeks. You weren’t just embarrassed, but you were ashamed as well. This was your friend, your best friend, whose bed you had found yourself in, drunk off your ass without a care in the world who was watching as you stripped yourself of all your clothes, shaking your sexy body in his face. You thought, without a doubt in your mind, that there was not a chance that he would act on any ounce of desire he had toward you; especially since you thought he wasn’t interested in you in that light whatsoever.

So, obviously, when you were pinned down to the bed underneath him, his kisses rough and full of passion, you were well beyond the line of shock, skipping right into complete and utter dumbfoundedness. Lost in the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even realized he used the pink fluffy handcuffs you gifted to him as a joke on his birthday just a few days ago to connect your wrists to the posts at the top of his bed.

“Quit teasing,” you snapped, jerking your face away from him. You just wanted this agonizing moment over with, it was way too much for you, honestly. The overwhelming embarrassment, shame, disappointment, you were just a mess. A hot mess, sure, but still a mess, nonetheless.

“Ah, but I thought you were into foreplay, darling? If I remember correctly, you always bitch whenever you don’t get any,” he hummed, cockiness radiating from his tone. You cringed at how insensitive he sounded, knowing damn well why you wanted to move on with this little scenario that he insisted on playing out longer than what is needed.

“Just… just put it in or something… I’m already… turned on enough…” you could barely stumble out the right words to explain to him where you were coming from. You had never felt so degraded in your life, and you’d barely even gotten anywhere with him.

He chuckled at the tone of your voice, hearing how impatient you were becoming. He really did find great amusement in your suffering…

He slowly slipped his hands down his own body, tugging his pants off and hesitatingly lifting his shirt up next.

On instinct, you wanted to reach out and touch him, but it only resulted in you rubbing at the fluffiness of the handcuffs containing your wrists. He faked a pout as he stared down at your desperate form, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Aw, does baby wanna be let free? Do you wanna touch me?”

“N-no! They’re just… bothersome…” you were so easy to read that it made you sick to the stomach with how much your tone gave away your truth. It only resulted in playful eye roll from him, but it didn’t take long for him to push his cock into your clenching hole. You gasped, the back of your head digging into the pillow below, nails fervently scratching and clawing at the sheets nearest to them.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, babe,” he groaned, pushing every inch inside you agonizingly slow.

You hissed, “Why are you doing everything so fucking slow, Kev? Why don’t you fuck me like a man? Do something right, goddamn.”

His eyes widened at your outburst, but you were just as surprised by your words as he was. Only, you failed to react quick enough before the cataclysm of rage fell over the man on top of you. You squealed as soon as you felt his entire length dip inside you, only to be pulled out and shoved right back in. His hips were brutal against you, just as you had provoked him. You realized your mistake as soon as his reaction was pinpointed on your newly abused pussy.

Your legs looped around his waist, hoping to stabilize his pace a little, maybe so it wouldn’t be so unforgiving and sporadic, but it didn’t help. If anything, it made him more pissed off, growling, “Why are you moving, slut?”

You readjusted your legs again, spreading them far apart, allowing him full access to everything you had to offer. It’s like you were giving yourself to him, allowing him to take everything from you, your own best friend.

“And how do you suppose we go back to being friends after this?” he asked, upper lip twitching along with his cock still pounding into your tight cunt, precum slipping out into your wetness enveloping him. “You think we can do that?”

You shook your head violently, eyes shut tightly in an attempt to focus on his words instead of the intense pleasure you were feeling, your cries and screams evidence of that.

“You gonna let me use this pathetic, whore pussy whenever I want then? We’re not friends anymore, that’s long gone. Now I’m gonna fuck you every single fucking day to my heart’s content. You’re gonna fulfill every desire of mine, like the good little slut you are, aren’t you?” he gripped your neck, squeezing enough to make your eyes pop open and hands struggle at the fuzz coating your wrists for freedom. You nodded, drool pooling around the corners of your mouth, lids drooping.

“I’ve always wanted this. Always wanted to use you like this, abuse your pretty cunt, fill it up with my cum. Always dreamt of this moment, beautiful. I’m gonna have so much fun with you now that I finally have you in my grasp,” he hummed, face inches from yours, each breath you took just recycled air from his lips. “You’re mine now, you’re never gonna get away.”

With one last thrust, lips colliding into yours, his hot, creamy liquid spewed out inside of your dripping cunt. Your orgasm was soon to follow, your tiny and weak body trembling under him as his hips glided against yours to help you ride it out. Your tongues were entwined, your meek whimpers falling against his recently explored mouth.

He slowly pulled away, a trail of spit falling between your lips as he analyzed your dreamy expression, your eyes seemingly in a daze. He smirked, leaving a gentle peck to your nose, “I think I might like you, friend.”

#[ lele writes 🐝 ]#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz kevin #kevin moon #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon imagines #kevin moon smut #moon hyungseo #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz smut

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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 1 year

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Cuddle Hormones - Kevin

find more content here: the boyz masterlist ↬ summary: ever heard of cuddle hormones ? ↬ tags: non-idol! kevin, gn! reader, sleepy sleepy vibes (i wrote this when i was sleepy too so it adds on to the sleep) ↬ word count: 185 words

↬ a/n: shorter piece this time ! i’m not very inspired at the moment but this piece is better than no piece ^^ enjoy

“Can we just…shut our eyes…”

“Do you only come here just to sleep?” Kevin raised an eyebrow (knowing full well your eyes were closed) as you snuggled closer to his side and his arms instinctively wrapped tighter around your shoulders.

“We’re not even halfway through the movie.”

When you gave a huff in response, Kevin jokingly rolled his eyes, “I’m starting to wonder if you’re dating me or the bed. You sleepy bear.” You half-heartedly punched his shoulder, before kissing the same spot, causing him to chuckle at your antics.

“‘M not sleepy, just…it’s comfortable around you…” Kevin gently patted the back of your head, watching as your chest rose and fell steadily beside him. Reaching out with his right hand, he tucked the blanket securely around you, a smile on his lips mirroring yours.

“Okay, okay. We’ll finish this some other day.” Kevin relented, adjusting both your bodies so that he was holding you flushed against his chest. Staring at your peaceful form for a bit more, he leaned towards you, peppering kisses all over your face.

“I’m glad to be your safe space.”

#ppumeonae-bigvibe #the boyz #the boyz kevin moon hyungseo #the boyz kevin #the boyz imagine #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fluff #the boyz kevin x reader

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sanaxo-o · 28 days

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We can’t be friends (Kevin Moon)

Warnings/genre: ah well lovers to strangers, misunderstandings, angst, hurt comfort at the end ig? Not proofread so let me know if there should be any corrections. Plz let me know if more warnings or anything should be here.

Word count: 1,340

Sana: I am back (only for a while lmao) and I present you my first ever Kevin Moon fic which I am slightly proud about. I had to write on we can’t be friends because yes. Like the song is just so SHSHSHDJD it’d be a crime if I did not do anything considering I am known (I like to believe that) for my fics which are inspired by songs. My all time favourite beta reader izzy is not available so no proofread because yas 👏. And a huge thanks to @mosviqu bar for making the banner despite it getting on her nerves. Love you loads mwah.

Tagging: @mosviqu @kimsohn @cloverdaisies

@o-onikix @quaissants @deoboyznet

🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸

Date: March 30th 2024

Sitting in the corner of the room you stare at all the people mingling with each other, laughing and giggling as if everything is normal and going oh so well in their lives when in fact it’s crumbling apart.

Taking a sip of the beer which was almost over you look around the room once again when your eyes meet his, staring at you from across the room.

You could feel your heart beating again, the way it started beating loudly made you scared, not because you feared him but because you feared yourself.

You swore to yourself that you had moved on from him. After everything you both went through, you thought it’s better if you stayed just as friends but you yourself knew that you both cannot be friends.

Every passing second of the day made you loathe him more, not because he was your ex but because he just decided to give up on your relationship just like that when you decided it was the end.

Keeping the can of bear on the nearest table you found you grabbed your coat and walked away from there. Not being able to sit there and act as if everything was alright when it in fact was not. You knew it was not, he knew it was not.

Date: March 20th 2024

Sitting on the bed you hold the necklace in your hand as you take in a deep breath. You hated arguing with him, in fact you hated when you would snap at each other simply because you both would bottle up your feelings.

The countless misunderstandings you both went through meant nothing at this point when your whole relationship is tearing apart like this.

“What’s the point?” You hear Kevin mumble briefly as he sits up from his lying position and places his head in his hands.

You could feel your heart breaking when you heard his voice for the first time ever since the argument you both had in the living.

You muster up the courage and strength to speak as you let out the words which were oh so irritating for someone in his shoes because of the obliviousness “What do you mean?”

You close your eyes when you hear Kevin let out a scoff, “You know what I mean, this is not working out. Whatever we have going on, none of it is working out. We can pretend that it’s all fine but deep down you know nothing is. Let’s stop wasting each other's time and just..end it.” Kevin says that as he stands up from the bed and grabs his coat to walk out of the room.

“Can we still be friends?” You ask him, halting in his steps Kevin turns around and lets out a small sigh when he sees your expectant eyes which were now filled with tears threatening to fall down and roll down your cheeks.

“We can’t be friends..” he says as he leaves the room and slams the door of your house shut.

You sit there in silence as you look around the room, on this very bed you celebrated your 20th birthday with him.

“We can’t be friends, but I’d just like to pretend…” you mumble to yourself as you bring your legs to your chest and let your tears fall down.

Date: March 30th 2024

Time: 12:47 PM

Walking down the street you hug yourself closer as you look up at the sky, it was empty which made you smile but it had no feelings.

You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, turning your head you could feel your face stiffening when you see Kevin running in your direction.

“Are you going back home?” He says once he is in front of you. Giving him a single nod you start walking again, not being able to stare at him for another second.

Walking in silence you stare at the ground while kicking the stones on the sidewalk. Taking in a deep breath you look up at Kevin who was walking beside you.

In his words he just wanted to make sure you reached home safely. Hence, the reason he decided to accompany you.

“Do you regret it?” You ask suddenly. You notice Kevin stopping in his tracks for a moment only to walk again as he tries to act nonchalant.

“Regret what?” He asks softly as he looks down at you, his eyes looking like daydreams. You still remember how you always felt seen and heard at night.

For you night is when you can finally be yourself, you don’t have to hide yourself anymore.

“Us breaking up…”

Letting out a deep breath Kevin looks at you with a small smile as he holds your hand guides you towards the end of the footpath to sit down on the ground.

“We needed to put an end to our story Y/N…I did not want to continue feeding on the monstrous fire which was increasing day by day. It’s difficult, yeah…but that’s the best for us.” He says softly as he holds your hands in hid for comfort.

“It’s hard. Really hard. I don’t know how you’re acting all fine..” you tell him as you pull your hand away from him.

“I am not fine if that’s what you’re wondering. I tell myself countless times to just wait for you to come back but then I was the one who broke up with you. I wish we could still be friends but I cannot get myself to do it. I cannot pretend to be your friend when I know I want more than that.” He says as he lets out a small sob.

“I can wait for you. I can wait for your love, I can do that..” you say as you try to stop yourself from crying over this again.

Shaking his head he lets your hand go as he stands up and helps you stand up.

“Can I just say one thing?” You say softly, your words coming out slurred as the alcohol starts getting to you. Giving you a small nod he helps you walk towards your house, “Know that you made me the happiest person when we were together. I couldn’t ask for more than what we had…it feels like you left me hanging by myself but I know I would have to move on and let this story die.”

You say everything in one go as you cough and hiccup. You notice Kevin opening his mouth to speak again but you stop him by putting your finger up telling him that you want to continue and that you’re not done yet, “For now, it’s only me but…but I’d like to pretend that we’re still friends, okay?” You say as you look at him with your expectant eyes.

“Okay…whatever you say..” he says softly as he looks down at your shining eyes which were staring back up at him. “Maybe that’s all you need to move on from me..” he says, mostly to himself but you catch onto it but he doubts you’d remember all this in the morning tomorrow.

Reaching your door steps he helps you stand straight as he looks through your bag to find your keys.

“You keep on clinging to your papers and pens, yeah?” You say softly in a joking manner as you enter the house and slam the door shut on his face.

Letting out a small chuckle Kevin looks at your door as he takes a step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets he takes a one last look at your door and walks away.

That’s an end to a story then, something which was bittersweet. There are some moments he wishes he could forget all together but most of them are the ones he cherishes the most and that’s what matters to him.

You guys maybe strangers to each other now but the time you both spent as lovers was some of the most valuable ones.

🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸

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quarterpasteight · 3 months

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THE BOYZ (주학년, 케빈, 상연, 뉴, 제이콥) — 덫 (Rat In The Trap) [b&w ver.]

[PHANTASY] Pt.2 Sixth Sense (2023)

#the boyz #tbz #new #jacob #sangyeon #haknyeon #kevin #choi chanhee #bae joonyoung #lee sangyeon #ju haknyeon #moon hyungseo #rat in the trap mv

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sungbeam · 4 months

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𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

artist!kevin moon x senator's daughter!reader

after a long night, you find yourself on the front doorstep of a man who's heart you still held tightly in your grasp.

4.0k words, exes 2 lovers?, bittersweet angst with a happy ending, kissing, swearing, mentions of arranged marriages and controlling parents, mentions of social class, it takes place in washington dc bc i had a specific place in mind lol but i've also only went to dc once(???)

a/n: dug this up and dusted off the cobwebs — originally inspired (partly) by youngk's cover of moon river <3 (im sorry i always give you angst kevin...)

It was late when you knocked on his door. It was so late, in fact, that the fog had begun to roll over the Potomac and dampen the cobblestones beneath your shoes. You would have taken off the death traps your mother called fashion, but you'd seen your friends on the rowing team get foot diseases before. The streetlights here glowed from their perches in golden yellow flames, not amber like they did in some parts of the district.

You hadn't really expected him to answer. You knew he was almost guaranteed to be awake, but there were always exceptions. You knew he would recognize you, too, but if he would open the door for you… it didn't matter that he was the kindest person you'd ever met, there were always exceptions.

His expression sat carefully blank when you faced him, a war brewing in his beautiful eyes of a long past you shared. He swallowed, scanning your form.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say. You suddenly felt stupid. Why were you here? Why had you run all the way across the river to his place in Georgetown? Why him? Out of all the people, you chose the one person who's heart you let fall to the ground and shatter. It was a miracle he even opened the door. "I—I didn't know who else to go to."

The bobby pins in your hair stabbed your head and intensified the headache building in your scalp. It had been a long night; you weren't sure if you were even of sound mind and thought right now.

Kevin Moon considered you for a moment, his eyes and posture softening at the lines. "Come in," he murmured as he stepped aside in the doorway, "it's late."

You swallowed as you took slow steps into his townhouse and he closed the front door behind you. Everything was as you had last seen it—pictures of him and his family, his friends; his artwork hung on the entryway walls; stair leading up to the upper floors, and hallway traveling back toward the parlor and kitchen. You could extract the memories that you had of this place, but that would keep you up the rest of the night. It would be a dangerous endeavor, you thought, as if coming to Kevin in the first place wasn't already.

"Here." He held out one toned arm for you to grasp. "So you can take off your shoes."

You gave a barely-there nod. "Oh, uhm, thank you," you said, locking your hand against his forearm as you swiftly discarded the stilettos from your feet. When your aching feet met flat ground, a weight fell from your shoulders, and you lined up the pair against the wall neatly by his shoe rack.

He began trekking up the stairs, beckoning you to follow. "You can have the guestroom," he sighed, carding a hand through his hair. It stuck up in the back, you noticed whilst following him up, which meant he had probably been tossing and turning for awhile.

Everything smelled the same, felt the same.

A different weight fell upon your chest, suffocating. Was it a mistake to come here? It was all coming back to you.

And he was opening the only other bedroom door besides his on the floor, leaving the door open for you to follow. He fluffed the pillows and pulled a blanket out from the closet shelf. This room used to be for guests, not for you, but that change was your fault.

"I'll grab you something to change into," he said in the silence with one hand cupped behind the back of his neck. He didn't look at you this time. "You still know where everything is?"

"Yeah," you rasped. You cleared your throat and held your clutch in front of yourself like a pitiful shield. "Thanks, Kevin. I… I promise I'll be out of your hair by the morning."

A beat passed. You felt his eyes on you and met them.

"Just—" his arm fell to his side and tucked into the pocket of his sweats, "—take your time, Yn. Good night."

You watched him leave. "Good night."

The house was quiet again after you finished washing up in the bathroom and retreated into the guest room. Kevin could hear the door close even from the third floor in his attic studio, his feet pressed against the cool wood, eyes staring out at the half-filled canvas on the easel. He'd been stuck for awhile, having not yet decided what he wanted to do with the rest of it. This indecisiveness came with the artist's block, unfortunately.

He didn't like to admit that one of the few ways to get him out were the dozens of canvases shoved against the far corner. There was a drop cloth draped over them so he wouldn't get distracted, but… most nights he couldn't resist.

There was always something soulful about the way he painted your eyes. It had always been that, and your smile, that he intentionally captured first whenever he painted your portrait. It was a greedy, selfish attempt to keep some part of you for himself because he knew that it was and could never be like that in the real world. He knew that fact all too well.

The vision of you on his porch tonight… he'd almost believed he was dreaming.

Kevin released a frustrated huff from his mouth, rubbing his hands down his face, then up through his hair. His brushes remained untouched, canvas on the easel left undone.

He stood from his stool and quietly made his way back down to the second floor.

He could've sent you away, he thought. He could've, but did he want to?—

"Oh. Hi."

His eyes shot up at the sound of your voice, meek and soft. You stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom with his T-shirt and sweatpants hanging from your frame like it was two years ago. He lost his breath for a second; he didn't think you were still awake. "Did I wake you?" He asked, clutching the banister.

"No," you said while leaning against the door jamb. "I was… I wasn't sleeping."

That made the both of you.

"You still have bandaids in the medicine cabinet?" You asked him.

He nodded, stepping down fully onto the second floor. "Yeah. How many did you need?" He shoved the intrusive thoughts away from the forefront of his mind and replaced them with the idea of bandages. He padded over into the bathroom, turning the light on to rifle through the medicine cabinet.

Never mind that you knew where they were and that you were capable of getting them yourself—he already lost when he let you into his house.

You slipped in behind him. "Just a couple small ones is okay—for my feet."

Oh, right. He'd nearly forgotten you must have traveled all the way from across the river to get here in those god awful shoes. Not only that, but no doubt spent an entire night in them at some stuck-up, rich-prick gala—

Not now, he hushed. Most of the time, it was never your choice to even go to those functions.

He withdrew the box of Band-Aids he kept, all beat up from years of figuring out where they belonged. There was a mishmash of sizes, but most of the medium-sized ones were all gone, leaving only the extreme sizes on the spectrum. He picked out a few of the small ones for you, staring at the tile on the floor while you sat on the lid of the toilet to cover your blisters and bruises.

“I know that my showing up here unannounced was really unfair to you,” you suddenly said. He raised his head a little. You were grabbing your heel now, gently massaging your foot. “Especially at this time of night. I—” You paused, “I just—I’m sorry.”

If he didn't think about it too much, he could pretend this apology was only about you showing up unannounced, out of the blue, at an ungodly hour, and not about every other elephant in the room.

“It's okay, I understand,” he murmured. He felt his body move to settle on the edge of the bathtub across from you to take your foot from your hand to rub soothing circles into your aching bones.

You connected gazes again and he saw the flicker of gratitude in them, and something else he didn't want to see. Hope was so cruel sometimes. “You don't have to do this.”

“I know. I want to.”

It felt like college all over again, just you and him. Those four years had been some of the best years of his life—but they were filled with naïve bliss. The long, humid summer days and nights along the river; the golden light filtering through his windows as you read and he painted; the picnics on the Georgetown University lawns; the echo of your laughter against cobblestone walls and streets.

They were engraved into his memory, even with the rose-tinted lenses off.

He would call it a fever dream, but he knew you were solid and real when he held you. Your smile was real, your love was palpable. He could hear your humming in his kitchen in the evenings and feel the ghost of your arms around him in the mornings.

When you were called away by your family to fulfill filial obligations, you would always return home to him. Not them, him.

In this moment, he knew exactly what he was doing, even if he chose to pretend he didn't. Like this wouldn't lead to his heart getting broken again when all that was left of you in the morning was your perfume on his clothes and bandaid wrappers in the trash.

“So what was tonight about?” He piped up, daring another glance at you.

You shook your head. “You don't have to—”

“Only if you're comfortable.” Sometimes it helped for you to talk about it, and sometimes it didn't. He wanted to help, nonetheless. He still cared about you, after all.

You wrestled down a swallow. “It was some dumb charity that wasn't even about the charity,” you rasped, returning your bare feet to the floor when he was done rubbing the hurt away. You had to look away, and he resisted the urge to turn your chin back to him. “And something about—something about marriage.”

His heart fell to the bathroom tiles. “What?”

Marriage?

“It—it’s nothing—”

“Nothing,” he repeated, speechless.

“Not nothing,” you amended, tripping over your words. You shouldn't have mentioned it. Why would you mention it? Out of everyone, you and to say it to him. “My parents mentioned something about it, but it's just one of those things where they're urging me to start looking. I don't know. It's not arranged or anything.”

He said exactly what both of you were thinking, “Yet.”

You looked at him then. He saw the way silver lined your eyes, the hurt threatening to spill over just like what pounded against the floodgates of his heart. Yet.

If you waited any longer, who knew what your parents would do to secure a political alliance? You were a Senator's daughter, your family's jewel and pawn piece. You were born to be someone Kevin couldn't be with and god-fucking-damn did that hurt like a bitch.

They were giving you time to make your own, careful choice. It was an illusion of free will that made him seethe and ache for you.

“It's gonna be fine,” you said with little to no strength behind the words. “I'll be fine.”

Kevin stared at you. You and he had shared plenty of arguments about this exact topic before and it all ended in the same place. He didn't know what to say this time to make you say or think or do differently.

What could he possibly say to make you stay? To make you rethink your entire life and career, to make you turn your back on your own family?

“I'm sorry I said anything about this.” You sighed. “I don't know why I said anything about this.”

He swallowed. “I asked in the first place; it's okay.” His hands yearned to touch your skin, to swaddle you in his arms and rock you into assurance. He missed when he could reach over and warm your knee with his palm to silently tell you he was here and listening.

“We should try to sleep. I've taken so much of your time already. I'm sor—”

“Yn, love, stop saying you're sorry.” You didn't ask for any of this and you kept acting like you did, like it was your fault. He couldn't fault you for anything if he tried.

It looked like you were about to say something to him. He could practically taste the words that sat on your tongue.

Tell me I'm not suffering alone. Tell me that you still love me, even after all this time.

Instead, you nodded while rubbing your eye. “Okay,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the bandaids and your time.”

When you stood, so did he. He pressed a warm palm to the small of your back to lead you out of the bathroom, his other hand hitting the light switch.

He reluctantly drew his hand away from you to step towards his own bedroom.

He heard you stop, his head pathetically raising to meet you as you turned around.

“Kevin, I…” There it was again.

Oh, he wanted so badly for you to say it. But it was late and neither of you were in the right state of mind.

“Sleep on it,” he whispered. He couldn't handle any of those words exchanged now if you were going to regret it later. “Please.”

You inclined your head, lips pressing together. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he said back, for the second time tonight, and for as many opportunities as he was granted. As long as he didn't have to say goodbye instead.

Sleep refused to take you and you tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Two long hours of torture, and you gave up, throwing the sheets off your body to step over to the window. The street below was dark with only a small halo of golden light from a street lamp to provide some reprieve from the darkness. You'd always seen this back street from Kevin's bedroom, never this one. It was so odd seeing it from a different point of view.

You closed your eyes with a sigh and rested your forehead against the cool glass. What were you doing here? Why were you troubling a man who you'd already troubled before? Your being here had to be bad for the both of you, but why did your being here feel right instead? You could separate comfort from rightness anymore, couldn't find where the line was in the sand because maybe you had danced all over it before to muddle it up.

Maybe you didn't want to define it—you just wanted it to be him.

You would never forget this moment, standing with your eyes closed against a cold window pane, that you came to an understanding. You had little to no sleep in your system, but your heart hurt as much as your feet, and while there were plenty of ways to soothe sore feet, there weren't as many to heal a broken heart.

Maybe a glass of water would refresh you enough to fall asleep. It would be terrible of you to wake him up, especially when you'd bothered him this much. He had already done so much for you.

But you'd seen him just hours ago, and you'd seen the tenderness in his gaze, felt the tenderness in his touch.

The way he'd asked for you to “sleep on it” had been loaded with something. Hope was so cruel sometimes.

Your chest tightened and you pulled away from the window. You stepped over to the door to quietly open it and slip out. There was no light coming out from beneath Kevin's bedroom door, and you tiptoed across the landing to make your way downstairs.

When you'd successfully retrieved a glass of water, you climbed back up the stairs, only to freeze at the sight of Kevin stepping up onto the ones leading up to the attic. Your heart galloped at the sight of him.

“I hope I didn't wake you up,” you whispered this time, gesturing to the cup of water in your hand. “I just needed some water.”

He nodded. “Don't worry about it. Can't sleep still?” He asked.

You shook your head. Not even if you tried.

He seemed to understand, and with a sweep of his hand through his hair, he beckoned you up to the third floor with him.

You hadn't been up to the attic for as long as you had been away from Kevin. It was his studio space, somewhere he could let his creativity run wild. There were canvases pressed and stacked up against the slanted roof, paint cans and boxes of brushes off to the side, and the chaise lounge you always draped yourself over when the sun filtered in just right. It was the perfect spot to curl up with a good book, and you could feel its cushioned back imprinted against yours even now.

The memories all flooded back in one, big tidal wave and your hand tightened around your cup.

“Are you working on anything?” You asked quietly, lingering at the stair landing to sip your water. You feared you weren't allowed to venture further, as if you needed permission to wander now.

He glanced back at you from his easel stool, forehead creasing between his brows when he saw you still standing there. “Yn, you can sit,” he said, nodding to the chaise lounge. “Not really,” he confessed. “I just… I've been in a block, I guess.”

You crept over to the lounge chair and seated yourself on the edge, stiff and with your legs crossed one over the other. You leaned your forearms onto your knees, looking in the direction of Kevin, his body half blocked by the wooden easel. “Ah, I see,” you murmured. “Have you had trouble sleeping lately?”

His eyes flickered to yours. “It's… on and off. You?”

“Same.” Your mind went to what you thought about in the guest bedroom earlier. Would it be out of left field to spring it up on him? You didn't even know if he felt the same way anymore, but… but you had to try, didn't you?

Why did you come to him? Out of all the people and places in this city, your feet carried you here.

“I—” Both of you said at once, eyes clashing when you realized the other's voice was speaking.

“You first,” he said.

You shook your head. “No, please. I—I think you should go first.”

He seemed to hesitate, but relented. There was so much emotion in the way he looked at you then; the wideness of his eyes gave it all away. “Why are you here, Yn? Why are you really here?”

It was like he could read your mind. You knocked back the rest of your water and placed the empty cup on the floor a little ways from your feet so you didn't knock it over. “I,” you began, “I don't… at least, I don't consciously know.”

He pursed his lips together. “Do better than that. I know you can.”

You knew he was right; you could do better. You knew the truth, but it was a matter of how much courage you had to face it. “Kevin, I—I should've never let you go that easy, and I should've never let my judgment be swayed by my parents as it had. I'm so sorry for hurting you; you never deserved it. You never deserved any of it.

“I think,” you said, one hand grabbing your other shoulder, “after all this time, I still know who I want, and it's never been anyone but you. That's why—that’s why I'm here.” You wished you could shrink into yourself with his gaze pinned to you like it was. “And this is all so unfair to you—I know. I know it is, and I am so, so sorry.”

You would bear your entirety to him in hopes that he believed you and saw your sincerity. Because while your parents had raised you to be their perfect daughter, they missed the part when you fell hopelessly in love with your best friend from college. It tore you apart that day they forced you to part ways with him—you knew it did just the same to him, too.

Kevin was quiet for a moment with a pensive expression on his face burning into his floorboards. He suddenly stood and made his way over to you, your body shifting to make room for him on the chaise. The pair of you sat side by side with your shoulders and legs pressed against each other, sharing the other's warmth.

“I don't blame you if you're bitter,” you said. “I would be, too. And you can kick me out if that makes you feel better, because I…”

“Don't say it's because you deserve it.”

You tilted your gaze over to him.

He shook his head. “You don't deserve it. You hurt me, yes, but I know why you did it and I can't blame you for it, no matter how hard I try.” He turned his gaze up to the ceiling for a moment. “Sometimes I wish I had been born in a different position so neither of us would have to hurt so much.”

Your chest ached.

“It's not your fault,” you said. “Kevin, it was never your fault.”

His smile curled into something somber as his hand reached over to thumb your cheek. “I know it's not. And it's not yours either.”

For a moment, his hand lingered, and you let it.

“Don't marry someone else,” he said so quietly you thought you'd imagined it. But there was that tenderness in his eyes then, loving and imploring, and you knew you hadn't just kidded yourself.

His hand went to cup the side of your face. “I can't—” he swallowed, “I can't stomach that thought. I love you too much to see you unhappy.” His words were slurring together, voice watery, as he attempted to cover it up by pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I love you so much it hurts,” you told him in earnest. “Of course I'd run back here to you. It's always been you.” No amount of parental control could change that. They could never choose who you fell in love with when your heart was yours to give.

Kevin shifted to press his lips against yours, soft and cautious, giving you the space to back out. You reciprocated though, hands coming up to cup his face. And as you kissed, a sense of comfort settled over you, something akin to contentment, like knowing this was where you were meant to be. All the worries and heartache melted away for one split second of bliss that you found in a man whom you loved too much to let go.

His nose gently bumped against yours, his thumb caressing your cheekbone affectionately. “I love you. You can break my heart when you leave in the morning, but let me have this at least.”

“You can have this, and you can have me,” you said, nodding against him. You were going to fight this time; you would fight until you bled because you would be damned if you let him go so easily a second time. “You've always had me.”

a/n: i have to be up early tmr as usual... but i hope u didn't get bored by all the wordiness sjfbdkdn

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @kflixnet

#kflixnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #kevin moon x reader #moon hyungseo x reader #the boyz angst #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #kevin moon imagines #kevin moon oneshots #kevin moon drabbles #kevin moon scenarios #kevin moon angst

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