Check out my profile on Wattpad, https://www.wattpad.com/moon_ifer?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_profile đ and if youâd like to read my byler ff itâs both in english and italian and i have a camren too if youâd like to leave a star and to add the book you like that would make me super happy
Mike and Eleven ending up together, meant NOTHING to straight people. It meant nothing because thatâs what happens in every story.
Mike and Will ending up together, wouldâve meant EVERYTHING to the queer community. It wouldâve meant everything because queer people deserve to see a relationship that looks like their own.
GENRES angst ïčlittle bit of fluff ïčlittle bit of smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit heâs done đ, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric â whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high keyâŠ), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!
SUMMARY it wasnât like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that youâre paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess itâs the perfect time to find out why.
MORE oh my god. itâs finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATERâ part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! iâm so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get âer done,,, itâs been an ordeal to say the least, and while itâs nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now⊠đ ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely wouldâve taken much longer to finish đ please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u havenât!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3
It wasnât just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.
Kevin wasnât answering your calls. He wasnât answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.
You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, youâd have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasnât your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing thatâs happened in the three years youâve known Kevin Moon, heâs managed to place the blame on you like it was.
It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldnât get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.
Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevinâs phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.
âY/N?â
Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldnât see his friendâs contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.
âChangmin! Whatâs up? How are you and your girlfriend?â You hope he canât recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.
âWeâre good! Howâs the showcase performance going with Kev?â He asks like he knows something you donât. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. âDo I have to smack some sense into him?â
âNot gonna lie, yeah, you do. Heâs being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I canât even get a hold of him, so Iâm starting to lose my patience.â You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.
You donât expect to get a returning call later that night when youâre washing dishes after dinner.
In fact, you donât even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. Itâs when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.
âHello?â
âAre you free tomorrow?â
Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. Itâs actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesnât hear the gulp.
âIn the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?â You try not to sound hopeful. Thatâs one thing youâve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And youâd dealt with enough of that the past few years.
âWe need to finish this fuck ass choreography,â he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. âIâll meet you in the same studio at 4.â
He doesnât let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.
That should be a piece of cake, right?
Wrong.
âNo, that looks stupid.â
You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. Youâd been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as youâd been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldnât be as rough as itâs been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.
âWe donât have time for you to nitpick right now. Letâs just finish the choreography and clean it after.â Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.
âIf we clean as we go, weâll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. Itâll be a stronger performance.â He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. âWhy do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.â
Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevinâs remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment heâs made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.
âGod, youâre soââ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. âYouâre fucking insufferable. Do you know that? Iâve been bending over backwards to ensure we arenât kicked out of the goddamn program and you donât even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?â
Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.
âIâve had to look at this every day for a week and all itâs done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didnât even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.â Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isnât out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.
Kevinâs eyes donât leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You canât read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, itâs funny. Itâs funny that itâs taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.
So you laugh.
Itâs a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.
âWhat are you laughing at?â His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.
âI just canât believe it took three years for me to shut you up,â you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. âYouâre always the one who canât stop talking.â
Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. âYouâre so unserious.â
As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. âLook, I know this isnât ideal. Trust me, I know. But, weâve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.â
âFine,â he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. âLetâs finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.â
Itâs a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldnât end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasnât entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. Weâll see.
You shut your eyes and visualize what youâve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. Itâs wishful thinking, but with how much youâve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, youâre willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldnât eat it up as much as they would the route youâre currently taking.
âShould we use props?â You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.
âThatâs⊠not a half-bad idea, actually,â his tongue darts out to wet his lips. âWhat did you have in mind?â
âA chair, maybe,â you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. âThat could take up a good chunk of the choreo.â
Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.
At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. Itâs then that it comes to you, like a vision from Thatâs So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and youâre slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but itâs exactly what this dance needs. Itâs exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.
He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. âWhat if we did a lift?â
You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. âNothing crazy like⊠umâ you knowâ Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something⊠sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.â
When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know youâve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. âOkay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.â
The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.
You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question thatâs been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.
âKevin,â you start, voice a lot softer than before. âWhy do youâ what did I do to make you dislike me so much?â
Heâs caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didnât think this would be it. Heâs actually a little off put that you hadnât asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.
âIâd call it indifference, not dislike,â he corrects after a pregnant silence. âItâs really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I donât know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafeâ literally, might I addâ and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasnât as expensive as he made it out to be.â
You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You donât know what you wanted him to say. You werenât even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isnât as smart as youâve painted him out to be in your head. Heâs actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?
Before you can stop yourself, youâre bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.
âThis is soââ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. âWeâve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely youâve realized how insane that is at some point.â
âIt took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,â he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. âOld habits die hard, I guess.â
You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.
That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.
Youâre nervous.
Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.
You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, itâs always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think youâre going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldnât be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.
Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you donât know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.
âCalm down,â a voice whispers harshly from beside you. âYouâre making me nervous.â
Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. âSorry, I donât know whatâs wrong with me.â
Thatâs a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.
âWeâve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. Weâll do just fine.â Kevin assures you.
His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that youâve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.
Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. Heâs cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.
You donât. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think heâs about to do. And then he does.
Itâs such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost donât even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.
He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that youâre next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadnât just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?
âOur last performance is one Iâm sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!â
Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. Itâs silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.
You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevinâs hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that youâre flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.
Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.
The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.
Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. Youâre entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.
âWe did it!â You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. Youâre the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesnât give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. âWhat the hell is your problem?â
âNothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?â He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.
You arenât sure why youâre surprised. This isnât anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasnât your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasnât enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you shouldâve known better. You shouldnât have let your guard down so easily. You shouldâve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.
But Kevinâs scared. Heâs afraid of letting you in after all the mess heâs put you through. The only thing heâs good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.
âLookâŠâ
âNo, you listen to me,â you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. âKevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?â
He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and heâs directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since youâve met him.
âWhy?â The simple question is so quiet, you almost donât hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that youâve never seen in a person before.
âIâve had feelings for you for so long, itâs actually starting to ache. Youâve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And Iâm afraid that thatâs all Iâll ever be to you, because you wonât let me be anything else. You wonâtââ
âThatâs not true, Y/N,â Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. âI justâ itâs complicated. Itâs more than just being rivals.â
âSo help me understand,â you frown. âLet me in, please.â
âMy entire life Iâve had to work to get to where I am. Iâve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program andâ and I thought Iâd finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But weâd spent so much time nailing it, that itâ I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. âHow could it have been my fault if I perfected it?â I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hatingâ to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, Iâm sorry.â
You donât know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasnât that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? Thatâs so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.
âWhy are youâ why are you crying?â He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.
âI wish I knew⊠I wish I couldâve helped you somehow,â you sniffle. âKev, Iâve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day Iâd be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.â
He blinks. Youâre both dumb, arenât you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both couldâve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes itâs not too late to make amends if you arenât running in the opposite direction despite everything heâs put you through.
Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. Heâs testing the waters, making sure youâre comfortable before he continues anything. When you donât back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.
This is what youâve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isnât abashed lust, itâs unbridled affectionâ itâs everything heâs holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldnât be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.
He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You canât help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isnât careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that youâre his, that youâre the only person insane enough to put up with him.
Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. Heâs always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing heâs ever laid his eyes on, but heâs repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what heâs avoided.
âYouâre so pretty,â he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. âI donât think I can last long with you.â
âCan we skip the foreplay?â You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. âNeed you to just fuck me like you mean it.â
Kevinâs forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. âI donât deserve you,â God, heâs such an idiot for holding out from this. You shouldâve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. âYeah, baby, I can do that.â
You donât waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that youâre braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he mustâve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.
Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.
His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he wouldâve thought, but he doesnât complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.
âYou feel so good, baby,â he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. âYouâre so so perfect.â
The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.
ââM close, Kev,â you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.
âAlready? Weâve only just started, gorgeous.â He laughs, but itâs breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since heâs seen you in much worse situations.
You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.
He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. Youâre both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. Youâve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.
Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. âFuck, baby, you can cum for me.â
He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.
You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything thatâs just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.
âWhat does this mean for us?â You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevinâs neck. Youâre still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isnât a one time affair.
âItâll be hard for things to change overnight,â he says, massaging your sides. âWe have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But Iâm willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.â
Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you donât think youâve worn around him genuinely in the years youâve known him. âI do, too.â
âItâs kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, donât you think?â He laughs.
âAnd we fucked in the dressing roomâŠâ You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.
âMaybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,â he suggests. âTau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?â
âI would be honored.â You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.
I had a dream, and I don't usually have wet dreams ok? Ok so why all of a sudden while I was cutely wrapped in my bed sheet with a giant bee (honey honey working for you like a bee, this song is already hunting me I'm telling you) I dreamed an orgy with some of the boyz members... like... how?
