#kevin moon fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ericsprincess · 1 year ago

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baby we don’t need words

nc-17, Kevin Moon/reader, first date, cunnilingus, a tiny bit of dubcon

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Your date talks way too much.

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A/N: My love and hate letter to Kevin.

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Shut up. Shut uuuuup. Shut the fuck uuuuuuuuup.

You take a sip from your glass of red wine and inconspicuously check your watch. Sigh. You are only 24 minutes into this date and you already want to bail. You’re this close to dramatically stabbing yourself with a fork, anything that would get you out of this situation.

It’s not even a bad date per se. Technically, it’s probably the most “perfect” date you’ve ever been on. This guy - Kevin, as he introduced himself, when he asked for your number as you were waiting in the line at Starbucks - obviously put a lot of thought and effort into it. The restaurant is extra nice and fancy, but not an obvious dating spot. The table is perfectly placed with a view on the city. The candles are glimmering, making a beautiful atmosphere, together with the quiet music. Even the food he recommended to you is amazing, the wine he chose is even better.

And Kevin himself looks stunning, in perfectly fitting black slacks and navy blue shirt, just tight enough to show off his body - tall, lean with the right amount of muscle and nice frame. His hair is done prettily, he smells expensive. Genuinely a stunning piece of man, that would make you straight up salivate, usually. Especially since he looks so sympathetic, he’s friendly and smiling and not at all threatening, like some men use to be when they hit on a woman.

What’s worse, he made such a good first impression that you invested a lot of effort too. Getting asked out by a guy this hot is not a daily occurrence, not even for you. Your hair and nails are freshly done, your dress is new. Your underwear is matching.

And it’s all for nothing, you think bitterly.

Everything is perfect, save for the one fatal flaw - this guy just doesn’t shut up. And not only that. Whatever comes out of his mouth is cringe of the worst caliber and you’re about to break out in hives from it.

He watches the cringiest shows and finds them funny.

He loves internet memes, but his taste is one of a 10 years old. You force out a laugh when he shows you some. Jesus Christ.

He loves music and plays instruments, but his obsessions with some singer is borderline unhealthy. No, you don’t want to go to the concert with him.

He looooooves his job, but haaaaaaates his company. “But we are all just slaves of capitalism, aren’t we?”

His political views. Who even discusses politics on a first date? Time and place, dude.

You try to participate in the conversation to your best abilities, but often you don’t even know how to react. You don’t want to be rude, so you try to find any interest and reply honestly and thoughtfully, despite it wearing your patience down, and it seems it’s working, judging by the bright smile he’s giving you.

He obviously likes you more and more every minute.

The worst is that despite all of it, you can clearly tell he’s a harmless, genuinely nice guy with a heart of gold. Someone who is a whole person, with interests, hobbies and opinions. Someone who loves his friends and family and has values he stands by.

That all makes you feel even more shitty about the whole situation. You don’t want to hurt his feelings,

Plus, he’s really fucking hot.

You look up at his face from your glass of wine and force a smile. You hope it doesn’t look too fake. Kevin leans forward and takes your hand in his. It’s dry and warm, and it feels really good.

“What are you thinking about? You seem like you got lost in your thoughts for a minute,” he asks. He rubs your hand a little, and tilts his head in anticipation for your answer. Because, of course, he genuinely gives a fuck about what made you space out.

He looks really beautiful in the candlelight.

You down the rest of your wine and put the glass on the table. You decide in a split second. Ah, fuck it.

“Yeah, I think I just felt something snap in my dress. Like, a zipper or something. I have to go to the bathroom to check it, will you go with me in case I need help? I’m not sure I can reach it,” you smile at him apologetically.

“Sure, of course, no problem,” he agrees and gets up to follow you to the bathroom.

You open the door to the ladies room and check if it’s empty so that he can come there without hassle, then gesture to him to come inside. You find for you two an empty stall, push him in and lock the door.

“Where exactly did you feel the zipper snap? Like, in the back? I can check it for you..” he rambles and you can’t take it anymore. You grab him by the shoulders and slam him against the stall wall.

“There is nothing wrong with my zipper, and you better listen now. I’m at my fucking limit,” you lower your voice.

“I had to listen to your stupid bullshit for half an hour already, which is 30 minutes too long,” you growl at him. “Do you ever stop and think about what’s coming out of your mouth? Like, think for a second and wonder, Maybe I should not say that?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you immediately slap your hand over him to stop him.

“No, no, no. No more talking from you, now you’re gonna listen, get it?” you ask.

He nods, looking almost nervous, and swallows visibly. His eyes are almost bulging out. He’s definitely surprised and caught off-guard by the change of your demeanor.

“Now, we are going to make a little deal and I will give you a choice. Either we end this date already and go home. Separately. And we will never speak again. Or, I can give you a second chance, but first you will reflect on whether every dumb thought you have needs to be said out loud and act accordingly,” you lay it down in front of him. You take your hand off his mouth, awaiting his answer.

“The- the second, please,” he stutters out. He’s all red and embarrassed.

However, what you can’t see, but definitely can feel, is a boner tenting his slacks.

“Okay, but just know I’m giving you another chance only because you’re really cute and seem like a nice person,” you frown. “One more thing though. You have to apologize to me for wasting my time with your dumb rambles today.”

“H-how?”

“Very simple,” you grab the front of his shirt roughly and flip you both, so that you’re the one leaning on the wall.

“On your knees,” you command and push on his shoulder, so that he kneels in front of you.

And he does. He slowly, hesitantly falls on his knees on the ground, looking at your face, as if he weren’t sure if he heard you correctly.

You push up your tight dress and at that moment he snaps out of it and rushes to help you, taking off your panties for you.

He doesn’t waste a second to kiss up your thighs, nuzzling into them and licking and sucking, leaving little marks on your skin.

“You’re so beaut- ahhh!” you interrupt him by grabbing his hair. You pull him away from you and look into his eyes.

“I said no talking,” you frown and push his head to your pussy. At least now he gets the hint and starts licking you, collecting all your wetness on his tongue and savoring your taste.

You’ve already been so wound up from the adrenaline and also the fact that you’re in a public restroom, you know you’re not gonna last very long, so you close your eyes and enjoy how his tongue flicks quickly over your clit, getting you close at a rapid pace. After a little while, he must be getting tired, but he’s not stopping, only sometimes switching from using his tongue to sucking gently. It makes you feel so warm and everything is wet and you’re already almost there.

Clearly, he’s trying to earn that second date.

You look down and for a moment just enjoy the sight of Kevin eating pussy eagerly, not saying a word. He looks so pretty like that with hair mussed up, cheeks red, barely breathing as his face is pressed closely to your body. You can see the hints of glimmering wetness on the lower part of his face, obscured by your body.

“See? You can be good for me, maybe you’re worth keeping…” you sigh and he moans in reply, but you let that one slide. Seeing the movement of hand sneaking down to touch his cock, although only over the pants, but clearly rubbing and squeezing with the purpose of getting himself off, you finally come, holding his head at your pussy so he doesn't even think of stopping or slowing down.

Your orgasm has barely stopped ringing in your ears when you notice him gasping as he comes inside his pants, his face buried in your crotch still. His hips are barely humping the air as he’s rubbing his cock through his orgasm, finally slumping down when he’s finished.

You smile brightly at him, as he kneels, spent and sweaty and ruined in front of you. There is a stain spreading in front of his dark slacks that will be only barely concealed by the restaurant’s low light.

You grab him by his shirt again and get him to stand, which he does, almost in haze, still not over his own orgasm. You pull him closer and kiss him deeply, so that you can taste yourself in his mouth.

“So, about that second date….”

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restlessmaknae · 5 months ago

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This was sooo good, Beam! ❤️

The way you described all the emotions, all the movements and all parts of the flat were so vivid, I could totally imagine everything and empathize with the characters. I love angst, and this was the best kind of angst because you knew they loved each other, they just couldn't be together because of external circumstances - as in this case, it was the reader's parents.

Thank you so much for sharing! This was just a beautiful and heart-wrenching read ❤️

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

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#ficrec #kevin moon fic #the boyz fic

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daisyvisions · 2 months ago

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Thick as Thieves | Octoberfest Day 6

➺ Pairing - childhood bff!Kevin x fem! reader

➺ Drink - Mojito with a shot of gin (aka childhood friend!au x voyeurism)

➺ Summary - How far are you willing to go to help your friend, especially if he’s been your friend since childhood?

➺ Word Count - 1.7K

➺ Warnings - Smut (18+, minors DNI), fuckboy!Kevin, voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), fingering, face riding, hair pulling, dry humping, pussy!drunk Kevin, one-sided love (if you squint), some breast groping, let me know if I missed anything.

➺ Author’s note - Did not proofread this after writing so forgive me if it seems all over the place but I tried my best to make it make sense hahaha hope you enjoy!

➺ Taglist - @deoboyznet @snowflakewhispers @midnightfantasiez

@momhwa-agenda @nyu-topia @jaminthemiddle

➺ OctoberFest Masterlist

Knock knock knock.

You sigh to yourself as you hear the sound coming from your front door. You were just about to plop down on your bed, wrap yourself in your cozy blanket, and call it a day by watching your favorite TV show.

You pause for a moment, waiting to see if you were just hearing things, but your guess was wrong when the sound of knocking was heard once more. And it wasn't just any normal knock. It was a special knock with a certain rhythm to it. Once you heard the special beat, you already knew who was behind the door.

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, wondering why he decided to stop by your apartment when he should be getting ready for his "big" date tonight. As soon as you open the front door, you're greeted by a waft of his signature cologne. The cologne that makes you grow weak in the knees (you didn't need to tell him that) but more importantly, a very panic-stricken Kevin as he tries to catch his breath.

To some, the sight of your college's resident fuckboy right at your doorstep would make them faint on the spot, but to you, he's just Kevin, your best friend since you were kids.

"Kevin? What are you doing here?"

"It's an emergency, I need your help—"

"Oh, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, can I come in?" He pushes past you as if he owns the place.

You don't take offense at his current demeanor but rather it makes you worried even more. You've never seen Kevin like this before, wondering what kind of emergency he's talking about. By the time you close the door and turn around to face him, he's already pacing around the small foyer of your apartment.

"Kev, what's going on—"

"Before you have any violent reactions to what I'm about to ask, I need you to hear me out for a sec." He pauses, lets out a deep sigh, his eyes struggling to meet yours as a blush starts creeping onto his cheeks.

"I need you to show me how you touch yourself," he mumbles as he watches your reaction.

"I'm sorry— Can you run that by me again?" You look at him as if he had grown another head on his shoulder.

"Show me how you touch yourself."

"Now it sounds even more ridiculous the second time," you snickered.

"I'm in a dry spell. All my past hookups have been saying I suck at foreplay and word is starting to spread and I really cannot fuck up my date tonight."

Kevin steps closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as he looks you straight in the eyes.

"Look, I know it's weird—"

"It is fucking weird, Kevin! We're best friends!" Your eyes widen at him.

"And that's exactly why I'm asking you!" He matches your tone. "Just this once, can you do me this one solid? And we never have to speak about it again. I— I just want this date to go well…" His voice turns into a murmur.

By how his shoulders start to slump, you could already tell how badly this is affecting him. You want to help him out, you really do! But the thought of how this might affect your friendship weighs on you.

"Nevermind, I'm sorry I asked you—" Kevin's hands drop from your shoulders, a dark cloud suddenly casting over him as he walks past you to the front door. You feel your moral compass being pulled left and right. He's done so much for you over the years and not once has he asked for a favor in return. And it's just a simple favor, right? What's the worst that can happen?

"Wait—" You sigh to yourself, quickly turning around before you change your mind. Kevin turns back around to face you, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

"I'll do it. But just this once, okay?"

"Kevin, can you please back up a bit? Don't make this weirder than it already is."

"Oh sorry—" Kevin scoots backwards, giving you the space to lie back against your pillows. As you get settled and are about to pull down your shorts, his surprised tone halts your movements.

"Woah, woah, wait—"

"What?"

"You're not going to keep them on?" He asks worriedly as his doubts slowly start to sink in.

"What do you— Kevin, how the hell am I supposed to show you if my shorts are on?" You say as a matter of fact.

"Right, right— sorry. Continue—" He shakes his head.

You proceed to hook your fingers to the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips as you pull the article of clothing down before tossing them to the side of your bed. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before you slowly open your legs, exposing yourself to him.

Watching you slowly reveal your exposed bottom half stirred something within Kevin's stomach. It was like looking at porn for the first time in his life. He couldn't believe how mesmerizing you looked in this moment. Suddenly, his cock twitches beneath his jeans as you stick two fingers in your mouth, lubricating your digits before you begin.

"I'm not gonna talk, just watch, okay?" You quickly look at him before you close your eyes, trying not to think about him as you manually get yourself off.

You start slowly caressing your folds, dragging the pads of your fingers around the sensitive skin as you tease yourself into this. Your breath hitches at the featherlight touch, imagining it was someone else's fingers teasing you down there. You do this for a moment before inserting your fingers between your folds, running them up and down until they catch onto your pretty little pearl.

Your eyes scrunch at the sensation as you start to move your fingers in a circular motion. Your legs slowly ease apart as your other hand slips under your shirt to grope your own breast. Kevin could feel his throat drying up, especially with how your small whimpers of pleasure slip out of your mouth. He can't help but imagine what it would feel like to swallow those moans with his own lips.

For a moment, you forgot he was even there, too caught up in the moment as you enjoy yourself until you open your eyes and gasp, both because of suddenly seeing Kevin kneeling before you but also because you started hitting a good spot as you inserted your fingers inside your cunt.

"Fuck, Kev— you're so hard," you moan out. The sight of his erection desperately pressing against the zipper of his jeans, the outline of his manhood giving you a surge of confidence as you pump your fingers inside you faster.

"Hm? Oh—" Kevin looks down at his pants as your statement shakes him from his trance. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," you smile at him. "It's kinda hot, actually—" You cut yourself off as you curl your fingers.

"Holy shit…" Kevin mumbles, intensely watching you finger yourself. He doesn't notice his body leaning forward, slowly lowering himself onto his stomach to get closer to your glistening folds. He licks his lips, itching to know what you taste like on his tongue as he gets a faint whiff of your essence.

There was something about Kevin being at eye level with your cunt that sent the butterflies in your stomach fluttering like crazy. You've heard of the stories before, but you never thought in this life you'd see the sight before you and now you're thirsting for more of it.

You pull your fingers out, whining as the pads of your fingers play with your clit once more. You go faster, desperately wanting to reach your high.

"Please…" Kevin whimpers.

"Hm?" You slightly prop your head up to look at him.

"Please— need to taste you." He begs as his eyes start to droop from the sexual atmosphere. You nod your head without thinking, your curiosity getting the best of you.

"Thank fucking god—" Kevin lunges forward like a madman. His arms pulling your ankles aggressively towards himself as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he locks them in place. He dives in and licks one fat stripe between your folds, making you scream his name as your hands fly to his head, gripping his hair as he sucks on your clit like it's his lifeline.

Your head starts to spin the more his mouth moves against your heat. You don't know what the fuck these girls were talking about. Kevin's a natural at this! To be honest, he might even be the best pussy eater you've been with and you're not just saying that because he's your best friend.

You start to mindlessly grind your hips onto his face, trying to desperately reach your high. You feel the mattress rocking slowly beneath you as Kevin ruts into the mattress, seeking his own high as well in the process. Your fingers tighten, pulling his hair as you feel yourself slowly falling off the edge. Kevin groans into your cunt, the sensation of his hair being pulled makes him thrust his hips into the mattress faster.

"Oh fuck, I'm so close. Kevin, please—" You whine as he moans against your folds. The way you say his name switches something inside his brain, making him suddenly insert two fingers inside you, curling and pumping them in and out like there's no tomorrow.

You ride his face into the sunset until you finally see stars, your hips twitching as you fall over the edge. Your thighs involuntarily start closing together, squeezing Kevin's head in the process. Kevin lets out a loud grunt, suddenly stilling his movements as he buries his face further into your sex.

You let out a dreamy sigh afterwards. In all your years being sexually active, this was by far the hardest you've come. You prop your head again to check in on Kevin, whose face is still down between your legs.

"…Kevin? Are you okay down there?" You try not to laugh at the current situation. His head pops up, looking at you with dazed eyes. He lazily smiles at you, looking as if he had reached an all-time high.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that…"

#🍸— octoberfest #deoboyznet #kevin moon #kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenarios #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #tbz smut #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #tbz hard hours

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loserlvrss · 10 months ago

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꒰ 𝐁𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍 ꒱ 문형서

summary : everyday texts between you and kevin

genre : fluff, kevin x afab!reader, oneshot, drabble, text au tws : pet names, language, spelling mistakes, kevin’s serious love for beyoncé, kevin’s twerking skills author notes : here u go @rewjnd xx word count : n/a

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kevindavidday · 7 months ago

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i was re-re-re-reading lessons in cartography by profenity (as one does) and i was hit with such an insane affection for andreil suddenly like i was 16 reading the same two people fall for each other and thinking yeah that sure is love and almost a decade later my thoughts haven't changed at all? cause ykw that™ sure is love

#'neil loved his life'#craaaaazy of the author to end the fic with that line #i love his life too damn #i love you andrew minyard #anyone besides neil's (and arguably kevin's) pov and andrew would be nothing #as we've seen in tsc #AND YET #i love him because this gremlin looks at him like he hung the moon and the stars and is so cheeky about it too #like he'll be sat there with his eyes shining and a smile on his face and andrew will be like ugh fucking disgusting what is this #and neil will just smile more #they give me grief #no one will ever EVER do it like them #i can put them in any situation and they'll fall in love like clockwork #you could put them worlds apart and they'd create a new one for themselves just to see each other #they would do anything for each other no hesitation #in some ways a love confession doesn't even make sense they've transcended guys #like that's love if i've ever seen it but it's so much more™#it's just everything #all of it #on the floor rn #sorry guys #aftg #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #fic: lessons in cartography

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jinnieboosworld · 23 days ago

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Fangirling

Kevin Moon x Female Reader

@deoboyznet @a-dream-bookmark @k-labels

Genre: Fluff, Coming of Age

Summary: While at a Beyoncé concert Kevin Moon finds himself befriending a girl who shares the same enthusiasm for Beyoncé as him. So when he sees her crying after the concert he can’t help but wonder why.

Part of The MeetCute Series

Word Count: 8410

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N had spent all week planning for tonight—her outfit, her playlist, her nails painted in Beyoncé’s latest album colors. This was supposed to be her night. The tickets had been her birthday gift, and she’d been counting down the days ever since. But now, sitting in the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s car, the excitement felt off.

He hadn’t said much since picking her up. The usual banter, the jokes about her singing every word to “Love On Top,” were absent. Instead, his hands gripped the wheel a little too tightly, his eyes locked on the road.

“You’re quiet,” Y/N said, turning to him. She tried to keep her tone light, but his energy was throwing her off.

“Just thinking,” he replied.

“About?”

He hesitated, glancing at her briefly before looking away. “About us.”

Her stomach dropped, and she forced out a laugh. “You’re not about to tell me you hate Beyoncé, are you?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said, his voice low. “It’s… I don’t think this is working anymore.”

The words hit like a punch. Y/N blinked, convinced she’d misheard him. “I’m sorry, what?”

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t know how. Things have felt off for a while now.”

“And you’re telling me this now? On the way to a Beyoncé concert?”

“I thought it’d be better to get it out before we got there.”

Y/N stared at him, her shock quickly giving way to anger. “So, what? You’re breaking up with me so you don’t have to pretend to like my favorite artist for a few hours?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” she snapped. “Because right now, it feels like you’re blindsiding me for no reason.”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to keep stringing you along. You deserve someone who’s all in, and… I just don’t think I am.”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Her chest tightened, and her throat burned with the tears she refused to shed. “Pull over,” she said finally.

“What?”

“Pull over. I’m not sitting here and listening to you justify this crap while pretending I’m okay with it.”

He hesitated but eventually complied, pulling the car to the side of the road. Without a word, Y/N grabbed her bag and stepped out. She didn’t even slam the door—he wasn’t worth the drama.

As she stood on the sidewalk, the sound of his car pulling away echoed in her ears. The anger and heartbreak collided inside her, but she pushed it down. Tonight wasn’t about him.

She pulled out her phone, calling a rideshare. While she waited, she rummaged through her bag and found her lipstick. If she was going to cry, it wasn’t going to be until after she’d screamed every word to “Formation.”

By the time the car arrived, she had reapplied her makeup and adjusted her Beyoncé-themed jacket.

“Everything okay?” the driver asked as she slid into the backseat.

Y/N gave a tight smile. “Not really. But it will be.”

As they drove toward the stadium, she glanced at the glowing city lights and took a deep breath. Her ex might have ruined the car ride, but there was no way she was letting him ruin Beyoncé.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N slid into her seat just as the lights dimmed, sending the arena into an electric frenzy. Her heart pounded, but not entirely from excitement. She still felt raw, her emotions a tangled mess of anger and heartbreak, but she was determined to push it all aside. This night wasn’t about her ex—it was about Beyoncé.

The opening beat of the first song thundered through the speakers, and the crowd erupted. Y/N stood, her hands automatically lifting in sync with the sea of fans around her. As the Queen herself appeared onstage, she felt a flicker of joy break through the haze.

For the first half of the show, Y/N focused on the music, letting the beats and melodies drown out her thoughts. She didn’t check her phone or look at the empty seat her ex would’ve occupied. She refused to let him steal any more of her energy.

It wasn’t until the intermission that she noticed him—the guy sitting one row down and a few seats over.

He had straight blonde hair tucked under a snapback, and his whole outfit screamed “effortlessly cool.” But what caught her attention was his energy. While everyone else around him was taking a breather, he was animatedly singing to himself, drumming on his thighs as if the concert hadn’t paused.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. He noticed her looking and grinned, his charming smile flashing in the dim arena lights.

“You good up there?” he called over the noise of the crowd.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, her voice steady but her lips curving upward. “You, uh, really know your stuff.”

“What can I say?” He gestured to the stage as if it were obvious. “Beyoncé’s a lifestyle.”

Y/N laughed, the first real one she’d had all day. “Fair point.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You’ve been pretty quiet, though. First-timer?”

“Hardly,” she said, leaning on the railing in front of her. “I’ve been obsessed with her since, like, Dangerously in Love.”

“Then what’s the deal? You’re not screaming like your life depends on it.”

She hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to share with a complete stranger. “Long day,” she said finally, brushing it off.

He didn’t press, just nodded like he understood. “Well, if you’re gonna make it through the rest of this show, you’ve gotta sing like you mean it. Beyoncé didn’t show up here for half energy.”

Y/N snorted. “You sound like a coach.”

“Exactly. And I’m not letting my team down.” He stuck out his hand, his grin widening. “Kevin, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she replied, shaking his hand.

The house lights dimmed again, signaling the second half of the show. Kevin turned back to the stage, but not before giving her a nod. “Let’s go, Y/N. Time to wake up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny that his enthusiasm was infectious. As Beyoncé launched into another hit, she found herself loosening up, her body moving instinctively to the rhythm.

By the time Beyoncé hit her iconic run in “Love On Top,” Y/N was belting out the lyrics alongside Kevin. He threw her an approving thumbs-up mid-chorus, and she laughed, her spirits lifting in a way she hadn’t thought possible just hours earlier.

For the first time that night, she wasn’t thinking about her ex or the breakup. She wasn’t worried about looking sad or out of place. She was just Y/N—a fan in the crowd, celebrating the music she loved.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The second half of the show had Y/N completely mesmerized. Beyoncé was magnetic, her vocals flawless, and her stage presence unmatched. The lights, choreography, and energy of the crowd created a wave of emotion that Y/N couldn’t help but get swept up in.

Kevin seemed to have appointed himself her concert hype man. Every now and then, he’d glance back to make sure she was singing along or smiling, giving her exaggerated nods of approval whenever she hit a note.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted after she nailed the high note in “Halo,” laughing when she playfully shoved his shoulder.

By the time Beyoncé slowed the tempo for an acoustic set, Y/N felt the first twinge of vulnerability creeping back in. When the opening notes of “Resentment” filled the arena, she stiffened.

This was the song. The one she’d blasted in her bedroom during every heartbreak, every fight, every moment of self-doubt. And now, in this massive crowd of strangers, it felt like the lyrics were aimed directly at her.

She tried to keep her composure, but her throat tightened. Her vision blurred.

“Hey,” Kevin’s voice cut through the music, soft but steady.

She turned her head slightly, blinking back tears. He wasn’t grinning or joking this time. Instead, his expression was kind, his dark eyes filled with understanding.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the song.

She nodded quickly, waving him off, but he didn’t buy it.

“It’s okay to feel it, you know,” he said, his tone low and careful. “That’s why we’re all here—to let it out.”

Y/N swallowed hard, letting the lyrics seep into her soul. Beyoncé’s voice was raw, singing about betrayal, pain, and resilience, and Y/N couldn’t hold it back anymore. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly, hoping Kevin wouldn’t notice.

But he did.

Without a word, he reached over and gave her hand a light squeeze. It was so subtle, so natural, that she almost didn’t register it. But the warmth of the gesture calmed her. She didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Kevin didn’t say anything in response, just kept his hand resting over hers until the song ended.

When Beyoncé transitioned into an upbeat anthem, the atmosphere shifted again. Kevin released her hand, his playful energy returning.

“All right,” he said, turning to her with a wide smile. “Time to dance it out.”

Y/N laughed, wiping the remnants of tears from her face. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Gotta make sure my concert buddy’s having a good time.”

“Your concert buddy?”

“Yep.” He nodded confidently. “We’ve sung, danced, and cried together. That’s a bond right there.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously fun,” he corrected, giving her a dramatic spin as Beyoncé launched into “Crazy in Love.”

Y/N let herself be pulled into his orbit, her laughter blending with the crowd’s cheers. For the rest of the night, she didn’t hold back. She danced, sang, and even shouted a few ad-libs with Kevin, who was somehow as energetic during the encore as he was at the start.

As the final confetti rained down and Beyoncé bowed to the roaring crowd, Y/N realized something surprising. For the first time since the breakup, she felt good.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The crowd was beginning to thin out, the energy still buzzing in the air, but Y/N felt strangely empty. She had enjoyed herself—more than she expected—but the final song had stirred up feelings she wasn’t ready to face. She lingered near the exits, standing just outside the arena where people spilled into the parking lot.

The night had been a whirlwind. She was still processing her emotions about the breakup, but now that Beyoncé was gone, the weight of her own thoughts returned.

Y/N found a quiet corner near a row of vendor stalls, hoping the chill air would help steady her. She leaned against the brick wall, pulling her jacket tighter around her, feeling a familiar lump form in her throat.

She could already feel the hot tears threatening to spill again. She wiped at her eyes, fighting it. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry tonight.

“You okay?”

The voice was gentle but familiar. She turned, startled, and saw Kevin standing a few feet away, concern in his eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long he’d been watching her. She tried to smile but it felt forced, so she opted for a shrug.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “Just… processing.”

Kevin didn’t move. He took a step closer, a hint of hesitation in his step. “Are you sure? You looked… like you were having a good time earlier.”

“I was,” she said, looking down. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just one of those nights, you know?” She managed a small laugh, but it quickly faltered.

“Yeah, I get it.” He nodded, his voice softening. “That’s a lot to deal with. It’s like the universe knows when you’re vulnerable and just piles it all on.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment. He didn’t push. He just stood there, waiting.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “He broke up with me,” she finally said, the words feeling heavier than she’d expected. “Right before the concert. Like, right before. We were supposed to come here together, and then… he said he didn’t think it was working anymore.”

Kevin stayed silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. Then, he shook his head, disbelief evident on his face. “That’s… the worst timing I’ve ever heard. Who does that before Beyoncé?”

Y/N snorted, a dry laugh slipping out. “Right? I was supposed to have the night of my life, and now… well, now I’m here crying over my ex.”

“You deserve better than that,” Kevin said, his voice firm but kind. He took another step closer, giving her space but making it clear he was there for her.

Y/N swallowed hard. She wanted to say something, but instead, she just stared at him, blinking back more tears.

Kevin didn’t say anything more. He simply sat down next to her, close but not too close, as if he was giving her the option to pull away if she wanted.

They were silent for a long time, the sound of the remaining concertgoers drifting into the background. The crowd was loud, but the quiet between them felt safe.

After a few minutes, Kevin shifted slightly, breaking the stillness with a casual tone. “You know, you could always take this as a sign to let your ex go. It’s like the universe gave you the perfect night to start fresh. I mean, we’re at a Beyoncé concert—she practically hands out empowerment with every song.”

Y/N snorted again, though the sound was more of a broken laugh than anything else. “Yeah, right. Like I can just move on because Beyoncé said so.”

“Why not? It worked for me.” Kevin’s grin was playful, and it lightened the air. “She’s been teaching me how to live my best life for years.”

Y/N chuckled, finally looking at him. “I thought you were just here for the Beyoncé trivia, not life lessons.”

“Hey, both are important. It’s all about balance.” He shrugged, smiling in that easygoing way that made him seem so approachable.

Y/N hesitated for a second before she laughed again. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know if I’m ready for the whole ‘new chapter’ thing, though.”

Kevin looked over at her with a kind expression. “You don’t have to be. But don’t let one bad night make you forget how much you deserve, you know?”

She stared at him for a moment. His words felt too sincere, and it made her feel things she wasn’t ready to deal with.

“Well, if it’s okay with you, I could use a walk,” she said softly, trying to change the subject. “You’re probably headed somewhere else anyway.”

Kevin grinned. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to. I’m your personal Beyoncé assistant for the night.”

Y/N smiled, the first real smile of the evening. It felt like a small step in the right direction.

“Yeah, okay. Walk with me.”

Kevin stood up and offered her his hand, his eyes bright with an enthusiasm that made her feel just a little bit lighter.

As they walked together through the parking lot, Y/N realized that while her heart was still aching, maybe this night wasn’t a total loss after all.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The chill in the air had settled comfortably around them as Y/N and Kevin walked side by side through the parking lot. The sharp hum of the crowd faded with each step, leaving behind a quiet that felt oddly intimate. Y/N appreciated the peace. After everything that had happened earlier—her boyfriend’s sudden breakup, the overwhelming concert, and her unspoken emotions—Kevin’s presence was a comforting distraction.

They kept the conversation light, mostly chatting about the concert and Beyoncé’s killer performance, but Y/N could sense there was something more to Kevin. He had this easy confidence, not in a bragging way, but in a way that made everything seem a little less daunting. He didn’t push her to talk about her ex, didn’t probe further. He just let her take the lead when she wanted to.

“You know,” Kevin said, breaking the easy silence between them, “Beyoncé really knows how to get you out of your head.”

Y/N nodded, letting out a small, relieved sigh. “Yeah, she does. Even when things are falling apart, her music has this way of making you feel like you’re invincible.”

Kevin glanced over at her, his expression softening. “Yeah, like you can take on the world and still look damn good doing it.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that easy.”

Kevin stopped walking for a moment, turning to face her. There was an earnestness in his eyes, his gaze steady. “It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible, either.”

Y/N felt a small wave of warmth spread through her chest. It was the kind of comment that seemed simple, but for some reason, it felt like more than just words. It felt like encouragement—like Kevin genuinely believed that she could find her footing again.

“So, what now?” Y/N asked after a beat, not quite sure what she was expecting. But Kevin seemed to have the right answer.

“I’m just gonna say it—if you want to stay distracted from your ex and just keep enjoying life, I’m your guy,” he said with a grin, the humor in his voice taking any pressure off the offer. “You want to go get some coffee? Maybe talk Beyoncé trivia? Or we could just grab a burger. I know a great place.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by how natural the invitation felt. She hadn’t expected someone she’d just met to offer this kind of solace, but somehow, it didn’t feel out of place. In fact, it was exactly what she needed.

“You really like Beyoncé, huh?” she teased, trying to keep the mood light.

Kevin chuckled. “Beyoncé is life. But yeah, I think we should definitely hang out again. You don’t have to spend the rest of the night brooding over some guy who doesn’t know what he’s losing.”

Y/N paused, the words hitting her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. “Thanks, Kevin,” she said quietly, her heart feeling a little lighter. She didn’t want to admit it, but his kindness felt like an unexpected gift, a spark of hope in a night that had been filled with a lot of confusion and hurt.

“No problem,” he said, his smile turning warmer. “Besides, who else is gonna appreciate your Beyoncé knowledge? I’m not just here for the good times. I’m here for the deep talks and the bad dance moves, too.”

Y/N laughed, her mood lifting a little more. “I’ve got a lot of both, so you’re in for a wild ride.”

Kevin smiled, and for the first time that night, Y/N felt like the weight of her breakup was just a little bit lighter.

“Well,” Kevin said, turning toward the exit of the lot, “I’m in for whatever you’ve got. But seriously, text me if you ever need someone to talk to or, you know, vent. I’m all about the backup singer role.”

Y/N paused as they reached the edge of the parking lot, looking at him for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, feeling the tightness in her chest ease just a little bit more. She grabbed her phone from her bag but hesitated before getting in. “And, Kevin… I don’t know if you’re just being nice, but thanks for being here tonight. I really mean it.”

Kevin looked at her, his expression soft. “No need to thank me. I’m happy to be here. I know it’s not the greatest night, but you’ve got this. And if you need some Beyoncé therapy, I’m your guy.”

Y/N smiled, her heart a little lighter than before. She was still hurt, still processing everything that had happened with her ex, but there was something comforting in knowing that even in the messiest of moments, someone like Kevin could step in and remind her that there was more to life than pain.

“Okay, then,” she said, nodding. “Guess I’ll hold you to that.”

Kevin gave her a playful salute before backing away. “You do that. I’ll be ready when you are. But, uh, just so you know, I’m not a serial killer or anything, I promise. I mean, you don’t know me that well, but I’m definitely not that guy.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback for a second before laughing out loud. “Right, because that was the first thing I was thinking of. You’ve got your work cut out for you, I guess.”

Kevin smirked. “Hey, I had to put it out there. Better safe than sorry, right?”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “You’re lucky you’re funny.”

As Y/N stepped away from the parking lot, she realized that she had to get to her rideshare pickup point. She pulled up her phone, checking her location, and sent a quick text. On my way!

Kevin waved as she started walking away. “Let me know if you need a ride—unless you’re really trusting a complete stranger to take you home. Then I can’t help you there.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she waved back. “I’ll take my chances. You know, not every guy you meet at a concert ends up being a serial killer.”

With that, Y/N made her way toward the rideshare, feeling a little lighter than before. She wasn’t sure where things would go with Kevin, but for the first time in a while, she was allowing herself to feel something that wasn’t just sadness.

She glanced at her phone again, smiling when she saw a text from him.

Kevin: “Beyoncé trivia challenge next time?”

Y/N smiled, feeling the smallest thread of excitement for the first time that night. She typed back quickly.

Y/N: “You’re on. I’ll be ready.”

And as she slid into the back of the rideshare, the night didn’t feel quite so lonely anymore.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The week after the concert, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of how surreal everything had felt. Her breakup, the unexpected comfort of meeting Kevin, and the lingering, odd spark between them all seemed to blur together like one big, emotional whirlwind. In the days since, she kept herself busy—schoolwork, calls with her friends, and binge-watching reruns of her favorite shows to numb the pain of what had happened. But there was something about Kevin that kept creeping into her thoughts.

It was a sunny afternoon when she decided to text him. Nothing too complicated. Just a “Hey, how’s it going?” She hadn’t expected a reply so quickly, but less than an hour later, Kevin’s name flashed on her phone.

Kevin: “Heyyy! All good on my end. I was just about to start a deep dive into Beyoncé’s discography again. Want to join me? I’m feeling ‘Formation’ vibes today.”

Y/N chuckled to herself. Formation. Of course. It felt like the kind of thing Kevin would text her. The words seemed to light up the screen, a tiny spark that made her smile for the first time in days. She stared at the message for a moment, then typed out her response, not overthinking it.

Y/N: “You know I can never resist a Beyoncé deep dive. I’m in.”

It didn’t take long before they were making plans to meet up at a coffee shop near campus. She hadn’t seen Kevin in a few days, but the thought of hanging out again felt strangely comforting. They weren’t in a rush to define anything. There was something about the way Kevin made her feel that wasn’t rushed or heavy. It was easy.

Y/N was just about to leave her apartment when she hesitated, glancing in the mirror as she touched up her makeup. It wasn’t like she had anything to impress Kevin with. She wasn’t trying to get back into dating. She wasn’t even sure if that was something she wanted yet. But something about the idea of seeing him again made her stomach flutter in a way she hadn’t felt in a while.

No pressure, she reminded herself. You’re just hanging out with a friend. You don’t need to overthink this.

She left her apartment and caught a quick rideshare to the coffee shop. When she walked in, she saw Kevin sitting at a table near the window, looking as relaxed as ever. His green hoodie stood out against the beige coffee shop walls, and his lips were curved into that easygoing grin that made her feel like she belonged in his world, even if just for a little while.

Kevin spotted her immediately and waved, standing up to greet her. “Hey! You made it.” His grin widened, but it wasn’t the same playful grin from their first meeting. There was something a little more personal in it now, like he was genuinely happy to see her. “Beyoncé trivia awaits.”

Y/N laughed, taking a seat across from him. “I don’t think you’re ready for my knowledge.”

“I’m not worried,” Kevin said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ve been practicing. Bring it on.”

The next few hours passed in a blur of coffee, laughter, and surprisingly intense Beyoncé debates. They argued over the best live performances, the meaning behind some of the lyrics, and their thoughts on her various music videos. Kevin’s humor never wavered, and the way he made Y/N feel so comfortable with herself was starting to sink in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun just talking to someone, and the longer they spent together, the more she found herself forgetting that she was trying to move past a breakup.

At one point, they ended up watching a live performance of “Run the World (Girls)” on Kevin’s phone, completely immersed in the music. Y/N was so caught up in it that she barely noticed Kevin’s hand inching closer to hers. And before she knew it, their fingers brushed.

It was a simple, fleeting touch. But it left Y/N with a sudden, confusing flutter in her chest.

“Sorry,” Kevin said, pulling his hand back quickly, his face flushing slightly. “Didn’t mean to… I didn’t know if that was cool. I mean, I thought maybe we could—”

“It’s fine,” Y/N blurted out, her heart racing a little. She quickly cleared her throat, trying to act casual. “I mean, you didn’t—nothing. I’m good.”

Kevin chuckled awkwardly, clearly sensing her tension. “Okay, good. But I mean… you know, I wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N interrupted again, forcing a smile. She had no idea why her nerves were suddenly going into overdrive. It was just a touch, nothing more.

But as they went back to watching the video, Y/N couldn’t help but think about it. It was like a sudden shift—a tiny moment that made her wonder if maybe things were starting to feel more than just friendly between them. And that thought made her feel even more confused.

She had sworn off relationships for a while. And yet, there she was, getting lost in Kevin’s smile, in his humor, in the way he made her feel like she was worth more than the person who had broken her heart.

“So, what do you think?” Kevin asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Next Beyoncé concert? I think we can totally make it happen. It’s going to be a whole thing.”

Y/N blinked, realizing she had drifted off again. “Right. The concert. I’m totally in. As long as we get the VIP tickets this time,” she joked.

“Deal,” Kevin said with a wink. “I’ll make sure we’re front and center.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. It wasn’t that she was ready to jump into something serious. But, for the first time in a while, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of seeing where things might go with Kevin. For once, it felt like she was doing more than just surviving. She was starting to feel… alive again.

As they continued to talk about their next concert plans, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises Kevin had in store for her.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

As Y/N walked into the coffee shop, she spotted Kevin right away. His green hoodie stood out against the cozy, neutral-toned interior, and his wide grin made her stomach flutter. The usual sense of calm she had around him felt almost reassuring now, but that subtle tension, the one that always lingered when they were around each other, had begun to grow stronger.

Kevin waved, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. “Hey! You made it.” He stood up, pulling the chair out for her. “Beyoncé trivia awaits.”

Y/N grinned, slipping into the seat across from him. “I hope you’re ready to lose.”

Kevin laughed, easing back into his own chair, still looking at her with that playful, relaxed expression. “I’ve been practicing, trust me. I’m ready to go head-to-head with you.”

As they settled into the flow of conversation, Y/N could feel her nerves settling too. It was the kind of easy-going banter they had fallen into the last time they hung out—talking about music, laughing over random trivia facts, and debating their favorite Beyoncé lyrics. Kevin’s energy was contagious, and before long, the hours had slipped by unnoticed.

They eventually found themselves watching a live performance of “Run the World (Girls)” on Kevin’s phone, their attention fully immersed in the beat and the powerful energy Beyoncé exuded on stage. Without thinking, Kevin reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers as they both reached for the screen. It was light, almost accidental, but the contact sent a jolt through Y/N.

Kevin quickly pulled his hand back, flushing slightly. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to—”

Y/N’s heart was racing, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure how to act. Her breath caught in her chest, and she laughed to cover the sudden awkwardness. “No, it’s fine. You didn’t—nothing, I’m good.”

He gave her a sheepish smile, obviously sensing the shift in energy. “Right, okay. Just making sure. But, you know, I wouldn’t have—if you weren’t okay with it.”

Y/N nodded quickly, feeling her face heat up. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

But as the video continued playing, Y/N couldn’t shake the image of their hands brushing. There was something about it that felt like a subtle turning point. She had sworn to herself that she wasn’t going to jump back into anything serious, especially after the emotional toll of her recent breakup. But here she was, feeling something shift in her chest, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint whether it was fear or excitement.

When the video ended, Kevin shifted his posture, clearly trying to make light of the moment. “So, what do you think? Next Beyoncé concert? I’m thinking we can totally make it happen. It’s gonna be a whole vibe.”

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts, smiling at his enthusiasm. “Right. The concert. We should definitely do that.”

Kevin grinned, “I’ll make sure we’re front and center this time.”

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, though she wasn’t sure if it was the idea of another concert or the thought of spending more time with him. Either way, it felt like something more than just a casual hangout. It felt like a step closer to something undefined, but real.

She forced herself to focus on the present, to not get ahead of herself. “Deal,” she said, offering him a genuine smile. “But only if you get VIP tickets. No nosebleeds this time.”

Kevin winked. “You got it.”

As they continued to joke about concert plans, Y/N couldn’t ignore the feeling of anticipation in her chest. It was as though she had finally found someone who could make her feel alive again, someone who was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with—and maybe, just maybe, someone who could make her believe in the possibility of new beginnings.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The week leading up to the concert felt like a blur. The anticipation wasn’t just for the show itself—it was the thought of spending the night with Kevin that kept Y/N awake in the early hours, her mind racing with questions she wasn’t ready to answer. What was this feeling? Why was she so nervous about something as simple as a concert? Was she overthinking things, or was there really something more between them?

As the day finally arrived, Y/N found herself standing in front of her mirror, staring at her outfit as if it were some kind of decision that could change everything. She laughed at herself, shaking her head. No one needed to get dressed up for a concert, right? It wasn’t a date. They were just two people going to a show together. She had promised herself that she wasn’t rushing into anything, that she wasn’t trying to replace one emotional rollercoaster with another.

But there was something about Kevin that made her second-guess all of that. He was easy to talk to, yes, but there was a deeper comfort in him—one that made her feel understood in a way she hadn’t realized she needed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so at ease, so completely herself. And as much as she tried to keep things casual, the way she thought about him was beginning to change.

They met up outside the venue, where the crowd buzzed with energy. The usual excitement of a concert loomed in the air, but something felt different this time. Maybe it was because the whole thing wasn’t just about the performance. It was about spending time with Kevin, about seeing where things might go. She couldn’t deny that the thought made her feel a little lighter.

Kevin greeted her with his usual warm grin, looking relaxed in his jeans and a jacket, not the kind of person who made her feel like she had to put on a front. “Ready for this?” he asked, his voice light, but with an undercurrent of excitement she could feel in her chest.

Y/N smiled, feeling an unexpected rush of anticipation. “You know it. But I hope you’re prepared for me to out-sing you the entire time.”

“Bring it on,” Kevin shot back, eyes twinkling with humor. “I’ve been practicing.”

The concert itself was an unforgettable experience, but not for the reasons Y/N had expected. It wasn’t just about the music or the lights or the crowd. It was about the quiet moments in between—when Kevin would glance at her with that soft, knowing look, the way he would hand her a drink or ask if she was okay without even needing to be told. It was the small things that added up to something bigger.

They talked during the entire show, laughing over shared inside jokes, teasing each other over their respective dance moves (which, admittedly, weren’t as coordinated as they’d hoped), and even commenting on how ridiculous the outfits people around them were wearing. It felt like they were in their own little world, even though they were surrounded by thousands of people.

At one point, the lights dimmed for a quieter song. It wasn’t a moment where they could shout lyrics or get lost in the music, and for a second, the air between them was quiet, the sounds of the crowd fading into the background. Kevin leaned in slightly, as if testing the waters. “Hey, you good?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the question. She had been lost in thought, in the quiet of the music, but the way Kevin asked it felt different. It wasn’t casual. It was like he truly cared. She smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… enjoying the peace for a second.”

Kevin grinned, nodding as if he understood. “You know, I’m really glad we’re doing this. Not just the concert, but… hanging out like this. It’s been fun, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at the unexpected honesty. It wasn’t the kind of thing you expected to hear from someone after only a few weeks of hanging out. But the more they spent time together, the clearer it became that their bond was growing stronger. The concert was a backdrop to something much deeper than just music.

By the time the show ended, the energy in the air had shifted. The crowd slowly started to disperse, and the lights came up, signaling the end of the night. Y/N didn’t want the night to end. Not because she was particularly enamored with the show or because she was still processing the performance. But because, for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t want to say goodbye to the person who had made her feel this… alive.

They walked out of the venue together, the cool night air offering a reprieve from the heat of the crowd. The conversation flowed easily as they made their way toward the parking lot, both of them reluctant to end the night.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Kevin said, his voice quiet but sincere as they approached her ride. “I’m glad we did this.”

Y/N smiled, trying to keep the knot in her chest from giving away how much she truly appreciated his company. “Yeah, me too. I’m glad you were the one to drag me into this whole thing. I don’t think I would’ve had nearly as much fun with anyone else.”

Kevin’s expression softened, his eyes meeting hers in a way that made Y/N’s heart skip. “I mean, you made it fun. It’s not just about the concert. It’s… it’s about hanging out with someone who actually gets it.”

The words lingered between them, heavy in the air. Y/N felt the pull between them—the kind that was undeniable but unspoken. She didn’t know what it was, this connection they shared, but she wasn’t afraid of it. Not anymore.

Before she could think too much, Kevin’s lips curved into that playful grin again. “So… next time we do this, what’s the verdict? Maybe a comedy show? Or a karaoke night?”

Y/N laughed, relieved by the shift back to their usual easy banter. “Karaoke sounds good, but I’m warning you now—I’m a beast on the mic.”

Kevin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m terrified already. Bring it on.”

They shared one last laugh before Y/N reached for her rideshare, a quiet sense of contentment settling over her. As she waved goodbye to Kevin, she realized that it wasn’t about what they’d done or where they’d been. It was about who they were when they were together. For the first time since her breakup, Y/N felt like she could breathe again, like she didn’t need to rush or overthink things. The night had proven something she hadn’t known she needed: that connection wasn’t just about grand gestures or big moments. It was in the quiet ones, too—the ones that made her feel understood without needing to say a word.

As she sat back in the car, the city lights flashing by, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it wasn’t about finding someone to fill the space her ex had left. Maybe it was about finding someone who made her want to fill the space with laughter and quiet moments that felt just as important.

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, she was starting to look forward to something new.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next time they met up, it wasn’t planned. Y/N was out running errands when Kevin texted her.

Kevin: “What are you up to? I’m grabbing lunch if you want to join.”

Her day had been exhausting—a mix of work, school assignments, and endless errands—but something about Kevin’s casual invite made her pause. A part of her wanted to say no, to just head home and recharge. But the bigger part, the one that always lit up at the thought of him, couldn’t resist.

Y/N: “Where are you? I could eat.”

Kevin sent her the address of a small café near campus, and within 20 minutes, she was there. She spotted him right away, sitting outside at one of the tables, his usual green hoodie paired with a messy bun. He was scrolling on his phone, absentmindedly sipping from a cup of iced coffee.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted as she approached.

Kevin looked up, his face breaking into a smile the second he saw her. “Hey! Glad you could make it. Wasn’t sure if you’d be free.”

“I almost wasn’t,” she admitted, pulling out the chair across from him. “But food and good company were tempting enough.”

Kevin chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I promise the food’s good. As for the company… you’ll have to tell me.”

They ordered sandwiches and talked about everything and nothing while they waited. Kevin was easy to talk to—he always had been—but today felt different. Maybe it was because their conversation drifted away from surface-level topics, sinking into things they hadn’t talked about before.

He told her about his family, about growing up in Canada and how moving away for college had been both exciting and terrifying. She shared stories about her own childhood, the way her parents had supported her in every crazy dream she’d ever had. They talked about what they wanted for their futures, their fears, their dreams. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but it was real.

At one point, Kevin hesitated, his gaze flickering down to the table before meeting hers. “Can I ask you something?”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Sure.”

“Have you thought about… us?” His voice was careful, like he didn’t want to push her too hard. “I mean, I know we’ve been hanging out a lot, and it’s been great. But I just—sometimes I wonder if maybe you see me as more than just a friend.”

Y/N froze, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. She had thought about it. Of course, she had. Kevin wasn’t just anyone. He was funny and kind and thoughtful in ways that made her feel like she was the only person in the world when they were together. But the idea of admitting that out loud, of putting words to the feelings she’d been trying to suppress, felt like too much.

“I…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I don’t know.”

Kevin nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know right now. I just— I wanted to be honest. Because I think about it. A lot. And I don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel something when I’m around you.”

Y/N looked up, meeting his eyes. There was no pressure in them, no expectation. Just honesty.

“I like spending time with you,” she said quietly. “A lot. And I don’t know what that means yet, but… I know I don’t want it to stop.”

Kevin’s smile widened, his shoulders relaxing as if he’d been holding his breath. “Me neither.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the air between them feeling lighter, warmer. It wasn’t a declaration of love or a grand romantic moment, but it didn’t need to be. It was enough.

As they finished their lunch, the conversation shifted back to its usual playful tone, but there was a new ease between them. A quiet understanding that something was shifting, even if they weren’t ready to define it yet.

When they left the café, Kevin walked her to her car. They lingered there for a moment, the sun casting long shadows on the pavement.

“Thanks for coming today,” Kevin said, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I know it was last minute, but… I’m glad you were here.”

Y/N smiled, feeling that familiar flutter in her chest. “Me too.”

For a moment, she thought he might lean in, that their story might take a step forward in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But Kevin just grinned and gave her a small wave as he stepped back.

“Drive safe,” he said.

As she drove away, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself. Things were changing between them, and for the first time, she wasn’t scared of what that might mean.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It had been weeks since the café conversation, and while Y/N and Kevin hadn’t officially defined their relationship, something had definitely shifted between them. Their texts grew longer, their hangouts more frequent. Even the silences between them felt comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding.

Today, they had planned to meet at the park near campus, a favorite spot of Kevin’s. He had insisted on bringing snacks and claimed he had a surprise for her, though he wouldn’t give any details.

When Y/N arrived, Kevin was already there, sprawled out on a blanket under the shade of a large oak tree. A basket sat beside him, and he was messing with something on his phone, likely adding a new playlist to his ever-growing collection.

“Hey,” she called out, walking over to him.

Kevin looked up, his face lighting up in a way that still caught her off guard. “You’re late.”

“You’re lucky I showed up at all,” she teased, dropping her bag next to him. “What’s in the basket? Don’t tell me it’s just sandwiches again.”

He grinned, gesturing for her to sit. “No sandwiches, I promise. Today is fancy picnic day. I brought charcuterie.”

“Charcuterie?” Y/N laughed as she sat down, pulling the basket closer to inspect it. Sure enough, there were neatly packed containers of cheese, crackers, fruit, and even a small jar of honey.

“I had to impress you somehow,” Kevin said with a smirk. “Besides, I’ve been watching those aesthetic picnic TikToks. This is my debut.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous. But this actually looks amazing.”

As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did. They talked about their week, shared updates about school and work, and debated over what movie they should watch at their next hangout. Y/N felt a warmth settle over her, the kind that came from being with someone who made her feel completely at ease.

When they finished eating, Kevin leaned back against the tree, his eyes scanning the park. “So, I promised you a surprise.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Is it Beyoncé-themed? Because I think we’ve exhausted all the possible surprises there.”

Kevin laughed. “Not this time. I figured we needed to expand our horizons.” He reached into his bag and pulled out two small envelopes. “Here.”

Y/N took one, eyeing him suspiciously. “What is this?”

“Just open it.”

She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out the contents. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was. Two tickets to a local art exhibit she’d mentioned in passing weeks ago, one she hadn’t been able to afford at the time.

“Kevin,” she said softly, looking up at him. “How did you—why did you—”

He shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “You mentioned you wanted to go, and I figured it’d be fun. Plus, I’m trying to earn some best-friend points. Or, you know… more-than-friend points.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I try.” His grin softened into something more genuine. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve had a rough few weeks, and I figured this might cheer you up.”

She looked at him, her heart swelling in a way that was both terrifying and wonderful. Kevin had a way of making her feel seen, like every little thing she said or did mattered.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Really.”

Kevin held her gaze for a moment, his smile fading into something more serious. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I like doing this kind of stuff for you. I care about you. A lot.”

Y/N’s breath caught. She had known this moment was coming, had felt it building between them for weeks. But hearing him say it out loud made her chest tighten in a way that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

“I care about you too,” she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “I just… I don’t know if I’m ready for something serious yet.”

Kevin nodded, his expression understanding. “That’s okay. I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready to give. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

The weight of his words hung between them, but it didn’t feel heavy. It felt freeing, like a door opening instead of closing.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. Kevin reached over and took her hand, his touch warm and steady. Y/N didn’t pull away.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she didn’t have to have all the answers.

As the evening turned to dusk, they packed up their things and walked back to their cars. Kevin stopped her before she got in, his hand brushing hers again.

“So,” he said, his voice light but his eyes serious. “Next concert, you’re still my plus one, right?”

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Always.”

Kevin grinned, stepping back as she climbed into her car. As she drove away, Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

20 notes · View notes

blizzardfluffykpop · 4 months ago

Text

My Darling

Summary: A mean clothing boutique shopkeeper. And Kevin who soothes all your insecurities by proving to you what you mean to him.

Oneshot

Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Non-idol au, Fluff?, Friends to Lovers au

If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work.

Warnings: Oral (r! receiving), Cum eating, Slight hair pulling (m! receiving), Protected Sex, Hand holding during sex, Slight body worship, Praise?, Marking (m! & r! receiving), Some aftercare, Use of pet names: Sweetheart & Darling. Very important: Reader is androgynous in clothing & and doesn’t wear makeup, and has body hair, and is a bit self-conscious about both (nothing Kevin can’t soothe ofc). *And if I missed any pls lmk!*

TW: A shopkeeper makes meanish comments about how the reader dresses and doesn’t shave. Leading to slightly self-conscious thoughts.

Word Count: 3,840

Kevin X Androgynous! Afab! Reader

Requested

Again, if you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work.

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You start getting dressed to go out when Kevin calls you up, asking, “Hey, you wanna hang out today?” You look at the clock, “I’d love to, but I have plans to go clothes shopping right now.” He hums, “Okay. How does five sound?” You grin, your heart thumping at the thought of seeing him later, “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” He sweetly says, “See ya.” You grin as you realize you could get something new to wear on your date. You shake your head at yourself and tell your heart to quiet down. He just wanted to hang out with you as a friend. It definitely wasn’t a date, nor was your outing for him, but it didn’t mean you could get something for the occasion as well.

You go to a few shops, buying a few things here and there before you end up at a local boutique. You head in, and the shopkeeper sweetly greeted you. You look around, picking out a motorcycle jacket, a few pairs of jeans, and two shirts. The jacket paired well with all the jeans you tried on, including the jeans you had worn there. But it was the two shirts that you were having issues with. The first one was too shapely. And it gave you an ick, so you took it off before trying on the yellow shirt. It was definitely your cut, but you weren’t sure if the color muted your skin tone. So, you ask the boutique owner for a second opinion. You spin around in front of her after asking her about the color to show her how it looks, and she says, “Honey, that?” You nod, and she shakes her head, “You’ll never get a partner if you keep dressing the way you do. Don’t you want something that’s flattering and shows off your natural curves?” You blink at her. All you had wanted was a color opinion.

You give her a tight-lipped smile as you express to her, “I dress in a way that makes me happy…” The shopkeeper shakes her head, “Up to you, really.” As she walks back to her register, she tsks, “What’s with this new generation and not shaving…” You quickly get out of the clothes you were trying on and put your clothes back on. You didn’t want them anymore. You just wanted to go home. You put the clothes on the return rack and tell her tersely, “Thanks.” As if she didn’t say what she had in the changing rooms, she cheerily says, “Stop by again~.” You leave the store empty-handed, and it takes everything in you to make it out to your car without crying. They were tiny remarks, but they hurt so bad. Maybe she was right…

You barely made it home, wiping your eyes at every traffic light you stopped at. When you finally parked, you rushed to your apartment, throwing your bags of clothes at the front door and yourself onto the couch as you wallowed. It wasn’t often your insecurities bothered you because you were confident in your skin. But her remarks cut like a remark. You couldn’t be with someone like Kevin. You didn’t dress flatteringly; it made you uncomfortable. You didn’t wear makeup, you didn’t shave, you didn’t do anything that was expected of you by society. And you didn’t want to, and it never mattered before because how you looked and dressed made you happy. But what if those things did actually matter? What if Kevin wouldn’t want to date you because of that? You cry harder into your couch cushion, trying to calm yourself.

An hour later, a knock comes on your front door. And you wipe your eyes before checking the peephole to see Kevin standing there. You gulp, remembering he asked to hang out later today. You try to wipe away any remnants of tears left on your face. So, it wouldn't look like you’ve been crying for the past few hours. You open the door with the best smile you can muster, and he smiles at you, “Hey, (Y/n)-” Before he pauses as he searches your eyes, “You look like you’ve been crying. You okay, sweetheart?” You let him in as you shake your head, looking down at the ground, “I just… I had a really bad day…” He hums and asks you to talk about it. You sigh “It’s over something small…” He shakes his head, “Even if it’s small doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you.” You bite your lip, “I um… well, I went to a boutique earlier.” He nods as you both sit down on the couch. “Yeah, I remember you telling me you were going shopping.” You give him a curt nod, “I did get a few things at other stores. But, uh, I asked the shopkeeper to come over because I couldn’t decide if this one yellow shirt complimented me or not...”

He puts his hand over yours that’s starting to shake, and you sigh, “She uh… She said that um…” He rubs his thumb over your hand, waiting for you to continue. “She told me that I’ll never get a partner… if I keep dressing the unflattering way I do.” He gasps, “She said that!?” You nod, unable to hold back a sniffle, “It’s just um… it’s something I’ve always worried about. I mean, usually, I'm confident in my style and self. But her saying that… It hit a sore spot.” He shakes his head, “But, sweetheart, she’s wrong. You’ll get a partner no matter what you wear-” You shake your head as you squeeze his hand, “But Kevin,... she’s right, I don’t dress in a way others could possibly like... No one would ever want to date me.” He shakes his head at you, “No, she isn’t. Because if she was right, I wouldn’t find you endlessly attractive and want to date you, huh?” He presses his lips together as he realizes what he said, “This is not how I wanted this to go…” You blink at him in disbelief, “You do?” He nods, “You’re so attractive to me.” You ask him wearily, “You don’t care about how I dress?” He squeezes your hand, bringing you closer, “No, rather, I enjoy it, and god, your outfits make you look hot. And I enjoy how you don’t conform to stupid patriarchal standards.” You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of a lie, “Seriously?” He nods, “I mean it. You look so cool. And you being confident in your style makes you even hotter.” You shake your head, “I... I don’t believe you. You mean you’ve liked me back all this time?” And he asks, “Do you want me to prove it to you?” You blink at him but give him a small nod, “I need words, darling.” You whisper, “Please.”

He brings you into his hold, removing his hand from yours to cup your cheeks. He smiles as he looks at you, “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are beautiful?” You whisper, “No…” And he tells you, “They’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen.” You blush, and he finally brings you in for a kiss. His lips meld with yours as he pulls you onto his lap. He breaks apart to tell you, “I know this outfit makes you look undeniably hot, but I can’t wait to see what you look like without it on.” You blush as you pull him in for another kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He runs his tongue along your lips, asking for permission, and you grant him it. His tongue explores your mouth as he runs his hands over your shirt. You let out a soft moan as you pull on his hair, making him let out a soft grunt.

He pulls back to just kiss your lips, his eyes searching yours. As he gets his hand under your shirt, you shake your head, pulling away from him, and he immediately moves his hands away, “I’m sorry, was I moving too fast?” You shake your head, “That’s… That’s not it.” He waits for you to continue, “What is it?” “I- I… I didn’t- I don’t shave… and she also made a comment about that.” And he smiles before he gives you a shrug, “A little body hair never hurt anyone.” And you shake your head, closing your eyes, “But Kevin…” He tsks at you, “You could be bigfoot, bald, green with yellow polka dots, and I’d still find you attractive. I promise you; nothing is going to scare me away. So may I please see what you look like without your shirt on?” You ask, looking him in the eyes, “Pinky promise?” He tells you, “I’d swear on a stack of ten bibles for you, but yes, I pinky promise.” He links his pinky with yours, and you sigh, “Okay.” His hands creep under your shirt, gently rolling it up before he takes it off. You see his grin grow as he looks over you, “You’re so fine, darling.” You blush at him and whisper a small thanks before he pulls you into another kiss. You find your hands wandering to the end of his shirt and slightly lift it up to run your hands over his stomach. He cheekily flexes his abs as you do. And you giggle into the kiss.

He peels off his shirt and lifts you up into his arms with ease, “Why don’t we take this somewhere nicer?” He takes you to your bedroom and lays you gently on the comforter. He reaches over and finds the switch for the bedside lamp. And when it turns on, he grins as he looks over you. “You look divine.” You blush, and he leans over you to capture your lips in his. He trails his kisses down your jaw and along your neck, leaving little marks as he does. You move your hand, and when he pauses in between hickeys. You pull his face to yours and bring him in for another kiss. You make out for a few minutes before you both pull away breathlessly. And he sighs, “Fuck, I can’t get enough of your lips.” He brings you in for another kiss, and when you pull away this time, he trails kisses down your chest, teasingly nipping at your skin as he makes his way further down.

He kisses all along your stomach, and then he stops. And you look at him in confusion, and he says, “Before I get too far ahead of myself, are you sure you want to go further?” You sigh, “Please, Kevin.” He grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on it before pulling off your pants and adjusting to be in front of you. He smiles, kissing along your stomach before he kisses you over your panties a few times. He hooks his fingers under them and pulls them off. You gasp as your self-conscious brain catches up to you as you try to hide yourself from him. Kevin raises his eyebrow at you and asks, “And what do you think you’re doing, darling?” You blink at him, and he says, “I want to see every inch of you. Don’t you dare hide.” You nod, and he smiles as he pushes your hands away and your legs back open. He smiles as he kisses up your thighs. As he grows closer, he sucks on your thigh, nipping at it to give you a hickey. As you gasp, he says, “Your little reminder until next time~”

He swipes his fingers over your entrance and grins, “All for me?” You blush, giving him a small nod as he licks his fingers clean. He lets out a little hum before sinking further into the mattress to place a kiss on your clit. He grins as you let out a whimper and licks a stripe along your folds. He hears you rustling the comforter and looks up to see your hands desperately seeking purchase in your comforter. He reaches his hand up to hold yours before diving in and lapping at your entrance. Making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shoves his face further in. His nose brushes your clit as he closes his eyes in contentment. He groans, “God, you taste so good, darling…” sending vibrations up your spine. You whimper as he continues to figure out what exactly made you twitch. Licking at your entrance before sucking on your clit and back again. Your moans grow louder as he finally finds his rhythm, his tongue running figure eights over your entrance as his nose bumps against your clit. Your moans are like music to his ears, especially when your legs start shaking against his head. You hold his hand tightly as you start squirming, and his other arm comes to hold you down as he eats you out like a starved man.

Not being able to close your legs, with your free hand, you seek out the next best thing. You grip his hair, causing him to groan against you as you nearly scream from the pleasure, “Kev-Kevin!” He hums, and it sends more vibrations up your spine, and you let out a louder moan. “I’m gonna-” and before you can even finish your sentence, you do. And Kevin hums again as he laps up your juices. His nose bumps into your overstimulated clit as he does, making you cry out. When he finally pulls away and sits up on his knees, you let out a sigh of relief. Your hands separate for a moment so your mind can finally catch up to your brain. And when you look up at him, you see his chin covered in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand and licks it off. He leans over you, “I know I’ve already said it, but you taste so good…” He puts his finger under your chin, pulling you to look at him, “Is all this just for me, darling?” You nod in a stupor, “Just for you…” He smirks, “Good.” before capturing your lips in a kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth.

When he moves back, he reaches back into his pants pocket, pulls out his wallet, and grabs a condom from it. He puts his wallet in his pant pocket before he asks again, “You sure you want to go all the way with me tonight? Because if not, I can always rub one out-” “Kevin, please just fuck me.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk, “You asked for it, darling~” In one swift motion, he pulls off his pants and briefs before slipping the condom over his cock and lining up with your entrance, “Tell me how you feel, okay?” He slips in slowly, and you let out a little gasp, “So- so good, Kev…” He smiles as he grabs your hand again, and your other hand grips the comforter beneath you. You squeeze his hand as he bottoms out, and you both let out a groan. He grunts, “When you’re ready…” He places gentle kisses along your collarbone as he waits for you. You squeeze his hand and tell him he can move.

He starts out slow, slowly thrusting in and out of you as he starts to work you both into a pace. You whine, “Fa-faster…” You squeeze his hand as his pace picks up, and he squeezes it back before resting his weight on his other forearm. He captures your lips in another kiss and happily swallows your moans as he increases his pace. He pulls away to whisper, “You’re so beautiful, darling.” He gives you another gentle kiss, and you grip your comforter tighter as he starts thrusting even faster. You lean your head up, and he moves his upper body down so you can place kisses on his collarbone. He lets out soft groans as you suck and nip at it to make it nice and red before pulling away. As he thrusts faster, you place a few more kisses up the column of his neck and leave a hickey next to his adam's apple. When you pull back, he’s looking down at you with a small smile on his lips as he starts moving faster, “W-what?” He smiles, pausing to whisper, “I just wanted to kiss you.” He captures your lips in his as he picks the pace back up, and it leaves you moaning in his mouth.

When his lips leave yours, he shifts his weight to his knees, running his hand up your stomach and to your chin, “You look so hot.” He kisses you again before moving his hand back down and slipping it between you two to rub circles into your clit. You gasp, squeezing his hand tighter and the blankets harder. “Kev-Kevin?” “You close, darling?” You nod as you gasp, and he murmurs to you, “Then cum for me.” Two thrusts later, as if you were under his spell, you come undone. He groans, “Fuck…” He buries his head into your neck as he reaches his own orgasm. He thrusts a few more times, and you whine a bit from the overstimulation, and he stops, breathing heavily as you both try to catch your breath. When you finally can see things other than stars, he pulls out and kisses your forehead, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He gets up from the bed, pulls off his condom, throws it away, and heads to your bathroom. He returns with a damp rag and cleans you up before tossing it into the hamper and lying beside you. He wraps you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face, making you giggle. “I know this backward to ask now… But can I ask you to be mine?” You smile at him and kiss his nose, “Only if you’re mine in return.” He grins, “Of course, my darling.” He kisses you before pulling the blanket over the two of you. You cuddle into his chest, letting his steady heartbeat put you to sleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you find Kevin’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you close to him. You look back to see him starting to blink awake. And he smiles at you. His voice is gravely as he says, “You even look hot with a messy bedhead, huh?” You blush and shake your head at him, and he turns you over. You ask, “When did you fall for me?” He smiles, “Five days after the day I met you. But you were so out of my league at the time.” You blink at him, “What do you mean?” He laughs, “You were so cool. You didn't care about what others thought and dressed to impress yourself. And I thought that was so hot.” You laugh, and before you can interject, he says, “Knowing you do care behind that tough exterior. I promise to remind you all the time.” You shove your head into his chest, “Kevin...” You hear him laugh before he asks, “Now, it’s only fair if you tell me.” You look up at him, “I was listening to you talk about something you were passionate about a month after getting to know you. And that was it for me.” He hums, “What was it about?” You grin, “Beyoncé.” He laughs, “Good to know my nerdy fanboy talk turns you on.” You lightly smack his chest at that, “Shut up.” He places a kiss on your forehead before curling around you. You stay like that for a few minutes before he asks, “Would you like to go back to that boutique? I know there were some things you wanted.” You sigh as you look down at your blanket, “I mean, I do… But…” He nods, “Is it because of what she said?” You nod, and he kisses your nose, “Well, now, we get to prove her wrong. And you can try on that top, and I’ll give you my honest color opinion.” You look into his eyes as you ask, “Really?” He nods, “Of course.” You grin, “Okay, let’s get dressed.”

He offers you his hand when you get out, and you happily take it in yours. When you get close to the door, he looks at you as if to ask you if you are okay with this. You nod. You really did want that motorcycle jacket. The shopkeeper greets you in the same cheery voice, like nails on a chalkboard. You find the jeans, jacket, and shirt you had tried on before. And Kevin grins, “Oh, that jacket is so cool.” You smile, “I love how it looks.” He smiles, and you lead him over to the changing rooms. He lets go of your hand and stands guard outside the changing room. You show him how the jacket looks, and he grins, “Yeah, that’s sexy.” You laugh, and he smiles as he waits for you to try on your shirt. You look over it and still can’t tell if the color looks good on you. And your brain starts replaying what she said to you. Before it can shake you, you quickly move the curtain back. You catch Kevin glaring at the shop owner and giggle before you say, “What do you think?” He smiles, “That yellow looks beautiful on you, darling. It makes your skin glow.” You blush, “Really?” He grins and kisses your nose, “You should get it, and I think it’ll pair with the jacket well, too.” You grin at him. That’s all you wanted to hear. You try the jacket with it and find he’s right before changing back.

You head to the counter, hand in hand, squeezing his hand for reassurance as you draw closer to the shopkeeper. He whispers, “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here.” She rings your stuff up, and you see her look at your interlocked hands. And he squeezes your hand, grounding you. She tells you the total. And before you can pull out your wallet. Kevin says, “I’m paying for my partner’s clothes.” Her eyebrows raise at him as she scoffs, “Okay.” She hands you your bag and tells you both to have a nice day with a gruff tone. He pulls you in for a kiss right in front of the door, and you hear her gasp. He pulls away and opens the door, and both of you snicker at her attitude when you leave the store. And you tell him, “You didn’t have to pay…” He shrugs, “I wanted to.” You shake your head at him, “But Kevin-” He opens your door, “Plus, wasn’t it fun to prove her wrong?” You smirk, “It kind of was…” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “Then that’s what matters most.” You shake your head, and once he’s in, he asks, “What do you say to being wined and dined, darling?” You grin as you both buckle in, “Oh hell yeah.”

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