#kevin oneshot

[saragarnier]

Away from you pt.2

pairing: Jay halsted x reader

summary: when y/n found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her she left Chicago, without saying a word.

warning: Angst maybe and bad english since it's not my first language.

A/N: i'm actually thinking about writing a part 3, but i'm not sure.

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Previous part, next part

When Jay got home that night, he went straight to the bedroom, without noticing your absence at once; he was really tired after the intense day at work and after the night he spent with Hailey. He was feeling guilty about it, obviously, but he could find the courage, he just couldn’t tell his future wife that he completely messed up with everything. He loved her, he really loved y/n and he didn’t want to lose her, even if she would have all the rights to do it, after all he cheated on her, just few months before the wedding.

Jay was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realise that she wasn’t still at home; he removed the badge and the gun from his belt, placing them silently on the bedside table, then he looked around and he finally noticed that you weren’t sleeping in the bed. He frowned, looking around and trying to understand where you were; he couldn’t hear the noise of the shower and the bathroom’s door was open, so you couldn’t be there either. He searched the entire home, then he took his phone out and he messaged you, hoping that you still were with Kim outside.

He tried to not get worried, but he couldn.t help himself when he saw that the message hadn't been sent successfully; he stayed awake for another hour, before falling asleep on the couch, waiting for your return.

He woke up the next day, feeling pain all over his body because of the position he fell asleep with; he looked around and he got up, searching all the house to find you. The bed was still done, and it didn’t seem like someone slept in it the other night, so it was clear that you didn’t come back home.

Feeling his hear skipping a beat because of his worry.

Why didn’t she come back home?

Had something happened last night?

Was she in danger?

He grabbed his phone and called for Kim straight away, walking all around the house while waiting for her to respond. He knew that it was still early in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake her up, but he had no choice. Y/n could have been in danger, something could have happened to her while she was coming back home, and he needed to know at what time Kim and her left the bar.

“Jay, it’s six in the morning, what’s happening?” Kim whispered when she answered the phone, seeing Jay’s name on the screen.

“Is y/n with you? Did something strange happened yesterday? Did she leave the bar after a call from the hospital?” Jay questioned her without taking a single breath. He just wanted to know if you were okay, if you were with her, maybe after drinking too many beers. He couldn’t understand for what reason you didn’t come home last night and he couldn’t believe that something bad happened to you or he would have known by that moment, his brother Will would have advised you.

“What? No, she left around ten pm and she walked away saying that he needed to do something… why? Did something happen?” Kim got up from her bed immediately, especially after hearing his tone of voice and hearing how worried he seemed to be.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed, shaking his head, still walking all around the house; he grabbed his badge and his gun, then he left the apartment without even reaching for his jacket. It wasn’t cold outside, but you definitely needed to have a jacket with you all the time in Chicago, at least till the begin of the summer. “She didn’t come back home last night and she doesn’t respond to my messages or my calls. I’m going to call Mouse and to make him track her phone, after that I’ll call Voight if I notice something strange, okay?”

“Shit…” Kim whispered, worried. “Tell me if you find out something, okay? “

“Sure.” Jay reassured her, then he hung up and he called Mouse instead.

He waited for almost a minute before his friend answered the phone, still in his dreams; Jay could tell just by his voice that he woke up Mouse and that he wasn’t really happy about that, but he just couldn’t wait any longer, especially if something bad happened to you.

How could he have been so stupid?

You were never late, he should have called Mouse and Kim the night before, he should have called them before to make sure that you were okay. What if someone kidnapped you? What if someone hurt you?

It would have been his fault.

It would have been his fault because you went out with Kim alone because he wanted to spend the evening with Hailey, he would have been his fault because he should have called for help immediately, he would have been his fault because he wasn’t by your side.

“Mouse, I need you to track y/n’ phone right now!” Jay said without waiting a minute.

“What do you guys have with tracking each other phones, uh?” Mouse replied, mumbling something about last night, when you called him.

Jay froze at hi friend’s words; he pulled up and he parked the car before crashing into someone else, then he took a deep breath and he try to stay focused on Mouse.

“Wait… what does that mean?” He whispered, afraid of what he could have discovered.

“She asked me to track your phone yesterday’s night… she seemed worried about you falling again into ptsd and I immediately tracked your phone. I told her that you were in your older apartment and that’s it, I didn’t hear from her after that.”

In that moment, all the dots connected.

That’s why Kim said you left earlier that’s why he noticed the backup- key in the wrong position, that’s why she didn’t come back home and that’s why she didn’t respond to his messages or calls.

She knew.

She found out.

He messed up and she knew it.

Jay stayed silent for what looks like hours, even days for him, even if it was probably for just one minute or two. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice he was crying, not until he was brought back to reality from Mouse.

“Uhm… Jay, there’s a problem…” he whispered. “I can’t track y/n’ phone, it’s like it’s dead. Maybe she didn’t have the chance to charge it? But why did you need her location? Is she with you?”

Jay gulped, looking outside of the car, looking at everything and nothing at the same time. he was like a ghost, he felt like a ghost, he felt like he was dead, like he lost all.

And he did.

If she really saw him with Hailey, he knew that he lost the love of his life, and all for what? Some sex with his partner at work? He said he loved Hailey, he always said it when they fucked, but while doing it he always thought about y/n, about the love of his life. It’ didn’t make sense, it didn’t make sense for him either and he didn’t expect the others to understand, that’s why he never told you or anyone else, even if he really wanted to after the first time he and Hailey had sex together.

“Jay?” Mouse asked again, worried when he didn’t hear anything from his friend for minutes. “Are you okay?”

“I ruined everything, Mouse.” He whispered at the phone, crying silently. “I lost her… I think she broke up with me… I think she left…”

“What?! What does that mean? She couldn’t have done it, couldn’t she? Why?” Mouse didn’t really understand what was happening between his friend and his friend’s fiancé, but it was clear that something bad happened between them since he heard Jay crying on the other line of the call.

“I cheated on her… I cheated on her and I think she found out… she didn’t come home last night, she doesn’t respond to messages and calls… I don’t know where to find her, I don’t know where to find her to talk to her and explain everything to her. She had all the rights to know the truth from me, but I can’t do it if I can’t reach for her.”

Mouse stayed silent for some minutes, then he had an idea.

“She works at the hospital, maybe she’s there, no? It’s seven am and she had to present her resignation letter if she really wants to leave Chicago, no? Maybe she’s at the hospital to do it, maybe you still have time.”

It was one last hope and Jay accepted it; Jay took it immediately.

“I’ll call you from the hospital. Thank you, Mouse.”

He hung up, dried his cheeks from the tears and he drove towards the Chicago Medical Center as soon as he could; when he arrived, he met his brother, Will, but he was to focused on finding y/n, so he ignored him and went straight towards Meggie. Before he could ask her where his fiancé was, Jay got stopped by Will, who pushed him into an empty room.

“Will I do nit have time for this right now!” Jay exclaimed, trying to go out go the room to find you.

“Well, you’ll have to find some time because I want to know why y/n presented her resignation form on a fucking mail!”

And that was when Jay lost his last hope.

“W-What?” he whispered, sitting on an empty chair before falling on the ground. “She left?”

It was too late.

He arrived too late.

Will nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, and trying to reassure her in any way possible.

“What happened, Jay?”

“I fucked up… I fucked up and I lost her, Will.” He whispered. “I lost her.”

And it was true.

He lost you.

And the best part was that being a detective’s fiancé helped you to find a way to be invisible.

New phone.

Only cash.

Being a ghost.

You didn’t want to be found, especially not by him and, while he was crying on his brother’s shoulder about losing the love of his life, you were landing in New York city, trying to find a way to hang on, trying to start a new life.

A life away from him.

Away from the last version of you.

[cheriladycl01]

How I love you - Multi Driver x Reader Part 2

Plot: The Heartstopper Charlie Monologue but for each driver!

Pierre Gasly

"I've been going out with Pierre Gasly since i was 15. He likes travelling and French Football. Dogs, especially the fluffy kind. Trying new foods across the world. His first win in Monza. Coffee. Taking picnics in Nice. Getting back into our bed after a long triple header. And Panoramas"

"He also likes me...”

"His hair is a sandy blonde, that could almost be a brown and his eyes are light blue and he's 7 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Esteban Ocon

"I've been going out with Esteban Ocon since i was 22. He likes the movies and Italian Cuisine. Marvel, especially if it’s Deadpool. Building remote control cars. Having Ryan Reynolds as an Alpine Investor. Table Tennis. Making everything into a race, even mountain biking. Spending time with his parents . And pink"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is very dark, basically black, and his eyes are dark brown and he's 9 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Alexander Albon

"I've been going out with Alex Albon since i was 24. He likes photography and film cameras. Animals, especially our pets at home. He loves wearing loungewear. And his attachment to golf. Spicy Food. Doing his skincare with me. His podcast with Logan on race weekends. And his iPad"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is always changing colour because he dyes it, and his eyes are light brown and he's 2 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Franco Colapinto

"I've been going out with Franco Colapinto since i was 18. He likes yapping and flirting with his interviewers, to get on my nerves. Buenos Aries, especially when showing me around where he grew up. He loves drinking Mate in the mornings. And watching Lionel Messi. Chocolate. And Dulce de leche. His Spotify full of Spanish music. And The Boss"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a chocolate brown, and his eyes are like caramel and he's 5 inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Yuki Tsunoda

"I've been going out with Yuki Tsunoda since i was 20. He likes cooking and making me try new dishes. Japan, especially in Cherry Blossom Season. He loves snowboarding at Christmas. And playing video games. Sake. And going cycling. His PC at home in Italy. And Swearing"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is jet black, and his eyes are almost matching that and im 5 inches taller than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Daniel Ricciardo

"I've been going out with Daniel Ricciardo since i was 26. He likes mountain biking and bmxing. The great outdoors especially the Australian Outback. He loves taking pictures mainly of me. And horse riding on the beach. America. Joking around with Lando. His Beats Headphones. And MotoGP"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is brown, and his eyes are like pools of honey and im 6 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Valtteri Bottas

"I've been going out with Valtteri Bottas since i was 29. He likes caving and rock climbing. Engineering , especially around his F1 car. He loves skiing on weekends. And making BotASS calendars. Wine. And doing cycling tournaments. His morning coffee. And Gin"

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is dyed platinum blonde to the point I can’t remember what his natural colour is, and his eyes are like blue and im 2 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Zhou Guanyu

"I've been going out with Zhou Guanyu since i was 16. He likes karaoke and gaming. Cats , especially little Sweetcorn. He loves seeing all the hard work go into an F1 weekend. And exploring more of China. Football. And styling me in outfits. His home in Sheffield. And Fashion”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a dry black, and his eyes are dark brown and im 5 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Nico Hulkenberg

"I've been going out with Nico Hulkenberg since i was 24. He likes bakeries and an occasional sweet treat. Sport and fitness, especially cycling and Tennis. He loves travelling with his job. And exploring the many cultures of the world. Skiing. And chilling at home after a long weekend. Some soft music in the car. And Swimming”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a blonde, and his eyes are blue and im 7 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Kevin Magnussen

"I've been going out with Kevin Magnussen since i was 26. He likes spice and Indian food. Sports, especially ones of the water variety. He loves outdoors and getting involved. And making everything into a brutal competition. Suzuka. And skydiving. Some Metallica when he’s feeling energised. And cycling”

“He also likes me…”

"His hair is a blonde, and his eyes are blue and im 3 inches shorter than him, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he's pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion...”

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[sungbeam]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 : a series!

[7 OF 11 NOW CUFFED!] ; it's cuffing season! — and the boyz are in for quite the adventure as they learn to juggle school, work, friends, and love.

starring: the boyz, f!reader

genre: college au, fluff, humor, comfort, assorted pairings

word count: 216k/?? // at least 20k+ words per part

**note: the main plotline (the 4 szns) can be read completely as stand-alones. all other spin-offs can also technically be read as stand-alones, but some might require context from the main plotline. (all prev yns will appear as __!yn)

+ ADD THIS TO YOUR LIST (taglist form: open)

a/n: i'm very excited for this series tbh and i really hope i retain the strength to finish it 🤧 a great way to help me out tho is to blow this post up by reblogging, esp since tumblr gatekeeps the actual fics when they're published :')

SEASON ONE: PARTY PEOPLE — jacob b.

yours and jacob's mutual friend kevin is convinced that you're meant to be, even if he only just met you. (trailer, 34k)

SEASON TWO: FLIGHT RISK — eric s.

you and eric met on an airplane, and that's where you thought it would end, but clearly the universe has a different plan in mind. (trailer, 30k)

SEASON THREE: OFF THE RECORD — j. changmin (parts 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈)

everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is. (trailer, 36k)

SEASON FOUR: AIN'T NO ROMEO — l. hyunjae

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him! (trailer, 30k)

— spin-offs & side adventures.

RHAPSODY ANONYMOUS — k. sunwoo

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's. (trailer, 28k)

RESCUE PROTOCOL — kevin m.

another summer break, another annual trip to the lake! except, it seems like when you and kev get there, you'll have to make some tweaks to the original rescue protocol. (trailer, 29k)

AT YOUR CONVENIENCE — k. younghoon

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block. (trailer, 29k)

HOT COMMODITY — j. haknyeon

no matter how many times he's been to this restaurant, haknyeon swears he's not just here for the cute waitress. (trailer, __)

PINKY SWEAR — c. chanhee

you and chanhee are far from the years of pinky swears, but here you are, still lacing fingers after all this time. (trailer, __)

THE REVEAL — l. sangyeon

does sangyeon really have a secret girlfriend? well... let's find out. (trailer, __)

CLASS(Y) ACTION — l. juyeon

nothing is more cutthroat than the legal sphere, and sometimes we have to find allies in the strangest places—even if he spills coffee on you. (trailer, __)

EXTRA/"DELETED" SCENES

section under construction.

EXTRA, EXTRA CONTENT

— QUIZZES!

lmk what u got for a free smooch and a cookie 🤸‍♀️🥰

which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this year? (uquiz)

which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this school year? (**NEW & IMPROVED VER)

love in unity trivia !! for the main plot only (uquiz)

— ALT. READING ORDERS

if u want to read this series in timeline order, this is how it should be done: jacob/younghoon, eric/haknyeon, changmin/sunwoo, hyunjae/chanhee, sangyeon, kevin, juyeon

if u wanna read sungbeam's favorites (no particular order): at your convenience, ain't no romeo, (more to be decided!)

— SERIES TAGS: general series. any wip can be searched via "wip: _____" (usually just the initials, except for party people); or "the (member) fic™"

[ninyard]

More Kevin/Allison?

okokok here's like. this. for you. it's not smutty but just lowkey horny. (a silly situation where they fuck around with the idea of being friends w benefits bc allison wants some on a night out)

-

Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. A wedge of lime in between perfectly shaped teeth, a glossy sheen of warming alcohol coating the lips that his shot had just passed by; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning. Kevin Day tasted like the sharp bite of his favourite tequila mingling with honey flavoured lip balm that spread across his lips.

Allison didn't actually know it to be true; looking up at smiling green eyes that ordered another round for the two of them, eyes that looked back with a mischievous glint - the unsettling thought had found its way into her head like a silently burrowing animal. The taste of his lips should've held no weight at all in her mind, but there they stood, still sweaty after dancing, throats hoarse from the song they'd been yelling on the dancefloor. Waiting at the bar for their drinks, Kevin's upturned lips looked far more uncomfortably soft and enticing than they'd ever looked before.

Too many shots in, and she caught herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.

It wasn't that she'd never thought about fucking Kevin before, but a thought was a thought. It was an idea to be kept to herself, something never to be spoken out loud. Dan had jokingly mentioned it more than once, but Allison had shut it down quicker than it had come up. It hadn't been more than six months since he'd started to come out of his shell more often around all of them, no more than three or four months since they'd become each other's best friend under the influence. To think about Kevin's skin on hers was to think of something so reprehensible and disgusting that it felt like a sin. To think about his breath on her neck was to no longer think of him as Kevin Day. It was to picture him as something to find pleasure in, and that simply couldn't happen. Finally they tolerated each other as friends, enjoying their shared company more than they thought they would. Fucking him would only find a way to ruin that.

She'd dreamt about it once - He didn't seem to notice how she avoided him at practice for a week after that.

A thought was just a thought; an unserious idea, an insincere hypothetical, nothing more than that. Kevin Day was an asshole, first and foremost. He was Kevin, for crying out loud. It felt forbidden to even imagine him in any scenario other than on the court. That was his place, his life, his priority. Allison had only recently gotten the low-down on the girlfriend that wasn't really his girlfriend; even then he hadn't seen her for more than a day or two in almost two years. If he were messing around with anyone, it was very well-hidden. Allison couldn't quite picture him having a casual hook-up, let alone a serious relationship. Maybe it was because she'd only seen him for his one-track mind for so long: the only love he needed was exy, and he made that very clear.

But Kevin Day off the court was not the same as he that would be found with a racquet in his hands. Kevin off the court was fun, and comfortable, and far more like her than she cared to admit. They bounced off each other like a pair of childhood friends, and he made her laugh harder than anyone else ever had. They could stand across from each other on the court the day after, half hungover and straight faced, nothing remaining of the knocked back shots and songs sung the night before. Yet, they were a dream team on a night out, the life of the party, far too comfortable with each other. Kevin off the court had once seen Allison in her bra and laughed at the wonky bellybutton piercing she'd gotten at 16. He really was a breath of fresh air, sometimes, when he wasn't in Kevin Day mode.

Kevin off the court was relaxed. Kevin off the court was a little too easy to look at.

I'm due my period, she thought. Her hormones, of course, the only logical explanation as to why she was picturing Kevin's callused and strong hands around her waist, fingers trailing up her back, wet lips on skin, the smell of his cologne and-

"Are you even listening?" Allison blinked herself out of a daydream to look up at him. With one arm leaning on the bar as the barman served up another two golden shots, his smile was dopey with the perfect amount of alcohol. The lights in Eden's were dim enough that he couldn't see the heat that had risen to her cheeks as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been.

"I can't even hear you," A lie yelled over booming music to cover for the fact she really hadn't been listening at all. "Go again."

An inch or two more, he bent down to get closer to her. His breath was hot next to her ear, and she cursed herself for not hearing him the first time. She sucked her lip in, a stifled smile hurting her cheeks. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

"I asked if you're planning on staying late," He repeated himself. "I know Dan said that she's leaving in a little while, and I think Matt's going to get them a ride home. Are you going with them?"

When her first thought was to run her fingers up his bare arms and tell him what she really wanted to do for the evening, it was set in stone; she was a lost cause. Her mind has lost control of the vehicle. The heart that pounded in her chest couldn't be driving either. Her arousal had taken the wheel, and oh, it was driving her head-first, full-speed into a red brick wall.

Kevin handed over his bank card to the barman that served them, and returned his attention to their first-next bad decision. The shot glass slid across the damp wooden bar, and he gestured for Allison to put her hand out. She was mentally beating the thoughts out of her head, but tequila and a dull sensation in the pit of her stomach wouldn't let them go. Kevin held her hand gently in his as he poured the salt onto her hand before his own. The shot glass looked tiny tucked in-between his pointer finger and his thumb.

"No, I don't think so," Allison peeled her eyes away from his hands and held the glass the same way. "Unless you're thinking about going."

Kevin paused for just a second and hummed some sort of answer before bringing his hand up close to his lips. It wasn't lost on Allison how he kept his eyes on her, white salt licked up onto his tongue, burning alcohol hitting the back of his throat before he looked away to grab a lime. Perhaps it was coincidence that he licked his lips with a cheeky smile as his eyes found their way back to the fruit in between Allison's lips. His thumb wiped away juice that had dripped down her chin. She just tried not to think about putting it into her mouth.

"I'm not," He pouted, tucking his card back into his wallet, and looked in the direction of the table that they'd been sitting at. "I have nothing better to be doing than getting black-out drunk with you."

Allison lifted her foot up to rest it on the railing at the bottom of the bar. Kevin had outstretched the arm that rested on the surface next to them, and by Allison's shoulder, he was flipping a coaster between his fingers. The song changed, a perfect cue for them to move, but instead they stayed. Allison hated herself for it, but she would blame the alcohol in the morning; she rested her own arm next to his, and reached out to roll the edge of his short sleeved t-shirt in between her fingers.

"It's better than watching another one of Matt's stupid fucking movies," She tried to ignore the internal screaming, louder and louder as Kevin glanced down at his bicep, and slowly back up to her face. The slightest crease formed between his eyebrows, but he didn't pull away. Instead it was accompanied by a subtly growing grin. "I'll go crazy if I have to watch King Kong one more time."

Kevin laughed, and for just a moment, it felt like they were in some sort of alternate universe.

Kevin's had pressed his thumb to her skin, at the back of her elbow, a look in his eyes, words hiding behind his lips that she could read through his transparent skin. Perhaps she was thinking about herself instead - her cheeks flushed and hot with her fuck me eyes out of control.

Projecting onto him was easier than admitting she was prepared to blow him in the toilets if he wanted her to.

It was an impossible suggestion that shouldn't have been entertained at all. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many car crash scenarios that could be avoided by walking away right then and there. Her inhibitions were lost, and it didn't matter that it was a self serving desire and a really fucking terrible idea.

Instead she wondered what Kevin Day tasted like, with all logical thinking long throw out the window.

"What?" He asked, then, a knowing tone to his voice, his words wet with alcohol.

"Nothing," Allison pulled her eyes away from his face and down to the fabric in between her fingers. "What do you mean, what?"

Kevin opened his mouth, but closed it with a grin, and took his hand away from her arm to place it flat on the bar. Like she'd been shook out of a daze, Allison did the same, but the twisting of her stomach was an inconvenient and intrusive reminder of what she was really thinking about.

"What?" She pushed him instead, tilting her head to be better in his view, but he was quick to move himself and look away.

"Oh, don't do that," There was teasing to his words, as he threw his head back and tried to wipe the smile off his face. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" She teased back, gazing at him through her false lashes, while his jaw flexed in frustrated acknowledgement that what she was doing was working. "What are you doing?"

Kevin looked down at her, with that fucking look in his eyes, that insufferable glimmer, that knowing shine. He tilted his head and inched himself closer to her. "Are you bored?"

"Bored?" Allison scoffed. "You're out of options, superstar. Take it or leave it."

Kevin nodded then, and slapped his palm on the bar, before replacing the gentlest, electrifying touch on the exposed skin of Allison’s arm. "See, that's what I thought you were doing, but I figured I was just going crazy. Because there's just no way you'd even consider it. Surely. But you are."

She rested her head in her hand, and bat her eyelashes up at him, only half in jest. "And you're not?"

"Oh, never." The pressure beneath his fingers told her the opposite. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. She'd never seen this look in his eyes before; playful but serious, looking her up and down like it was their first time meeting. "Never in a million years."

"Oh God," Allison hid her face in her hands. This couldn't be happening - even if she really, really wanted it to, in that moment. "I really hope you're talking about what I'm talking about. Oh, please tell me you are, so I don't have to smother you in your sleep and pretend this never happened."

"I don't mind," Kevin grinned, but looked up as if to make sure that nobody was watching. "If you're serious, I'd do it."

Salt, and tequila, and lime. Cologne, and sweat, and breath and- "I'll kill you if you're joking."

He laughed again, a hearty and charming sound, and rubbed a hand down his face. Fingers holding his chin he shrugged and shut his eyes. “Unless you’re joking, then no, I’m not.”

They looked at each other for a moment too long. Kevin lifted his foot to rest it on the railing next to her, their knees grazing off each other. He'd given her the perfect vantage point to look where she really wanted to look, but she worked against the spirits in her veins to keep her eyes on his.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Kevin took the words right out of her mouth. "I actually really don't want it to. But if you're bored," She slapped his chest as he laughed his way through the rest of his words. He pushed a strand of her hair back behind her shoulder, running a finger down the side of her neck and teased, "And I'm bored..."

Around them, Allison’s giggle turned heads as she knocked on his chest, tucking her ear to her shoulder to push his hand away. Her search for an inkling in his demeanor that he was truly joking came up empty. Allison's thoughts were much less coherent than this, of course, less so 'I can’t believe I’m kind of agreeing to fuck Kevin and he’s kind of agreeing with me too', and more so 'tonight’s dick, tomorrow’s problem'. She was giddy at the whole situation, how drunk they both were, how she didn’t really care at all that it was Kevin on the other end of a pair of hands and working tongue.

A patron pushed the way in between them, asking if they were finished so they could order a drink, and Allison skipped backwards through the crowd before turning when she saw him stepping away from the bar. She only turned to look at him once, smirking as he followed her like a puppy on a leash. Oh, it felt powerful, in some ways, the two of them only starting the growth of their surprising friendship. Maybe it was inevitable, one of them single and the other kind-of-single, that they would find themselves in this position. All it took was one simple, lingering look, and one sentence loaded with insinuation and heat; Kevin was handsome putty in her hands.

Allison didn't stop until they'd turned a quiet corner, close to a staff-only entrance and a fire door, where Kevin reached out first to put a steady hand on her waist as she playfully pulled him in closer.

"Tell me this is a bad idea." Allison whispered while hooking a finger through one of the belt loops on the front of his jeans. The same hand hung loosely over his waist, in between their bodies, as his hips brushed against her stomach.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up when Kevin took his free hand and rested his fingers in her hair, a thumb just behind her ear. Kevin sighed, just a millisecond of hesitation before his easily read eyes said fuck it.

"This is a bad idea." He looked from her eyes to her lips as he mumbled, pausing inches away from her face. She knew he was waiting for her to change her mind, but they'd gotten this far - why waste it? "Oh, a really fucking bad one."

(Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. Kevin Day tasted like a freshly cut lime wedge and vodka that he'd been drinking earlier; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning.)

[hcuyk]

okay since you're back, may i please request something around 4am with changmin (or sunwoo?) and make it angst or comfort or whatever just because why not thank you my love i'm so happy you're here you don't imagine how much

[4:01AM]

Not often did you wake up in the middle of the night, yet something felt different. Maybe it was because there was a sudden lump that had developed within your pillow or the temperature in the room had changed, but your dream had slowly faded into darkness. As you adjusted to your senses and reality itself, your eyes fluttered open and caught a glimpse of Changmin in the dark.

Your eyes traced the silhouette illuminated by the moon, noticing his eyes wide and fixated on the ceiling. Unsure of both the time and if Changmin had noticed you, you scooted over to where he was and wrapped your arms around one of his, hugging it close to your chest.

“Why are you up?” you mumbled while tucking your nose behind his shoulder, wanting to remain as close as possible. 

Changmin turned his head to face you, slightly startled that you had woken up, but his parted lips of shock curled up into a warm smile—it was almost impossible to not be in love whenever he saw you. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before shifting in his spot, adjusting so he could bring you into his arms.

“Why are you awake, hm?” He pulled you in close and against his chest, allowing you to snuggle up against him within his embrace. 

“I asked you first,” you retaliated. You gave him an exaggerated pout before having it interrupted with a yawn. He shook his head and laughed at you softly, his arms squeezing you. He then had one of his hands gently pat you on the head, providing a weak attempt to get you back to sleep.

“Just woke up randomly, and I couldn’t go back asleep,” he whispered.

“You better not be bullshitting.” He giggled at your grumble, causing you to shuffle your feet under the comforters and kick his legs when you found them. Changmin then burst out in laughter at your terrible attempt and refuted the action by locking his legs around yours, trapping you completely in his hold. 

Instead of fighting back, your tired state melted against him, but you still glared at him as a threat. 

“I’m not bullshitting, I promise.” Your skepticism made him coo and kiss your nose, watching as your bunched-up facial features began to relax.

“We sleep together?” Noticing your slight worry, he nodded and pressed a soft kiss against your lips to reassure you.

“We sleep together.”

It had taken less than a few minutes for you to knock out, but Changmin was still completely awake. He would play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear, before his thoughts drifted off once more. He kissed your cheek with a whispered ‘I love you’ before untangling himself from you to glance at the ceiling once more. 

His eyes then trailed over to the nightstand by their bed, and without much thought, he silently pulled out the drawer to take out a small velvet box. He flipped it open to reveal the ring he had bought you and raised it to where the moon was shining, wanting to look at it one last time before officially getting down on one knee for you.

His heart thudded against his chest and fluttered the moment he thought about you wearing it on your ring finger. He smiled and put it away so he could go back to holding you, finally relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

You were his forever, and he couldn’t wait for tomorrow. 

permanent taglist . . . @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp

author's note // first timestamp for changmin! (the other one was unhinged and we pretend it doesn't exist 😭). matty my biggest supporter ilysmsmsmsmsmsmsm thank you for sending this in i hope you enjoy ALSO this may or may not be canon kidult changmin 🫣

[citrushedgehog]

Slight fluffangst because fuck you

[idksmtms]

happiness (David Von Erich x reader) - evermore series

A/N: The way this movie wrecked me should be studied…

Also, I know the actual song is about a break up, but the line “there will be happiness after you” just made me think of death.

Summary: Maybe none of these coincidences were signs, but you wanted to believe they were. You wanted to believe that David was rooting for your happiness. 

Word count: 2,669

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, light to heavy angst, major character death is mentioned (but happens before events of oneshot), movie spoilers!!!, grief, moving on, guilt for moving on (ig could also be classified as survivor’s guilt), it’s kinda fluffy too, just nostalgic tbh, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is based solely on the portrayals of the brothers in the movie, not the real people. I do not own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not claim to own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

In a faraway barn of an already isolated horse ranch, sat an easel. On the easel was a canvas, a work in progress painting of shadows and darkness, anger and grief, made with splotches of red, black, grey. In front of the easel on a stool, sat you, wearing a messy apron over an old pair of jeans and an old flannel that still smelt a little bit like… him. The doors of the barn were thrown wide open (possibly because they never quite closed anyway) and filled the large room with bright sunshine. When the sun would eventually continue its course across the sky, the light would turn green from all the trees lined up on the other side of the barn and make everything suddenly feel like it wasn’t quite real. You loved those moments. If you were in one of the melancholic moods that still set in occasionally, then the green and yellow light made you feel like you had floated above the world, and if you just reached out, you could somehow find David. When you were in the good moods that now came with increasing frequency, you felt like it was a little sign from David everyday. A little reminder of the happiness you could still find, that he wanted you to find. 

It had taken you a long time to get to this place, this precarious tightrope of happiness that spanned over the chasm of grief. You could still remember the days after you had gotten the news, his mother’s soft voice over the phone telling you that his intestine had ruptured at some point in the night and he had died in his hotel room. Alone. Sometimes that hit you harder than the fact that he had actually died. That he had died thousands of miles away from family, from love, all on his own. You tried not to think about it too much now, it was an unnecessary train of thought that only made you feel worse. You could do nothing to change it anyway. 

But when his mother had told you, you had sat down on the edge of your bed and not moved until your own mother found you hours later. It was like life had suddenly been put on hold now that he was gone, that life wasn’t even possible now. Then, when the night came and the news slowly began to sink in again, you cried. First soft, silent tears that hurt your insides more than anything. Your throat clogged, your pursed lips pressed so tightly to each other they were bruising, and your hands shaking like you had developed arthritis overnight. Your hands never did quite stop shaking since that night. 

It had taken all your remaining strength to attend the funeral, to stand next to his brothers who had these broken expressions on their faces that made you hate the world all the more. His father with his stoic face that made you wonder if he had ever even loved David. And his mother, swaying slightly as she stood, tears streaming down her face that somehow made your own feel even more painful. 

The funeral was the last time you had left the house for a good month. You walked around your own family’s ranch house like a ghost, always making it just to the front door before turning back. You spent the most time in your room, because that was where all your memories with David were gathered, from all the gifts and pictures to the actual memories of him laying sprawled across your tiny single bed, feet dangling over the edge, cowboy hat over his eyes as he snored like a walrus. He used to say that it was the only time he ever really got good sleep, and you never had the heart to disturb him. You would simply adjust the little flap of duvet that could be pulled out from under him to cover his chest and stomach, then sit down at your desk chair to get any written work done that you might have. Then, a few hours later, when his absence from his family could no longer be abided, the phone would ring shrill through the house, and he would jolt awake, shaking his head to get the hat off his face and look around as if he had never stepped foot on the earth before. You always giggled, rolling your chair closer to the bed and gently petting his hair to calm him down as he blinked blearily and turned to you, depositing his head onto your shoulder with a little grumble. And the phone would keep ringing, left unanswered, until the second time they called, when you finally extracted yourself from David’s muscly grip, and went to sweet-talk whichever of his brothers had been given the duty of finding him while he gathered his things and bounced out the door. 

Before, whenever you had lain on the bed and thought about this, it had hurt excruciatingly, like someone was running a slow, twisting, drill through your chest. Now you just laughed, appreciated the peaceful moments you both had together. 

Your room still looked like it had then, though. Pale painted walls covered in memories, shelves full of them. One wall had letters pinned all over it, all from David when you had had a little phase of romanticism and had forced him to write and send you letters. He had taken it up with enthusiasm, even if he hated anything that remotely reminded him of sitting at a desk at school. He had written you a letter almost everyday for two months before you told him that you were running out of space to keep them, and maybe a phone call was better because then you got to hear his voice directly in your ear. You still read them sometimes, laughing at the insane amount of words he had to cross out or the little illegible scribbles that were surely supposed to be words but you couldn’t figure out which ones to this day. His handwriting was horrendous, but you loved him even more for it. 

Another wall had every picture you and David had taken together, a mishmash of polaroids and developed film that showed the story of your relationship. There were the shy pictures, when the relationship was still new and you had been a little nervous around him, and he had simply thrown his arms around you, rested his head on top of yours, and told the person to ‘take the goddamn picture’. Then there were the post-match pictures, one perfectly timed polaroid of you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, pressing an obnoxious kiss to his cheek while he shined almost white from the sweat under the flash. You couldn’t remember which match it was from now, you were pretty sure it was written on the back, but that had been standard practice for you after every match he won. 

The last picture of the collage, right at the bottom corner, was the last picture you had taken with David. It was just before he left for the airport, both of you standing in the driveway in front of their house, almost the same as the first picture you had taken together, just a different location. You were standing just in front of him, leaning back against his chest while he wrapped his arms over yours and rested his chin on top of your head. You were smiling so bright your eyes were squinted closed and he wasn’t even looking at the camera but down at you as if he could see your face from that odd angle. It was a cute picture, but you never looked at it fondly. Sometimes you were tempted to throw it out, but you couldn’t throw out anything that had even a hint of David on it. The picture just reminded you of how much you didn’t know, of how many signs you might have missed of the path David headed down. He had never told you about the drugs, the little energy boosters as his father had described them later. And you had thought the coughing and vomiting were an upset stomach. The toilet was always flushed when you came in to check on him, the sink always washed properly. You had even given him some medicine to take when he had assured you that there was nothing wrong. You had only found out from Kevin later that when David had excused himself to the bathroom at the wedding he had been coughing up blood. And that had led to the anger. 

For a long while, your love for David had turned into an unfair anger. You looked back on that period with a heavy heart full of regret. You hated yourself for it now. But rationality hadn’t mattered to you then, so deep you were in the valley of grief. You had hated him for not telling you about the drugs, for not telling you about the blood. Why did you have to find it all out after he died? Why did you have to find it all out from someone else? Didn’t he trust you? Didn’t he love you, or at least know that you loved him so much that nothing could make you stop loving him? Of course, later, when you began thinking clearly again, you had to realise that it was about him, not about you. That it was his own fear and pain and insecurities and whatever else was going on in his head at the time that led to this, not you. But after this initial hatred, came the somehow even more irrational one. You hated him for leaving you. You hated him for leaving you behind on your own. You hated him for dying… At the same time you knew you couldn’t hate him for that, it was the same as hating someone with cancer for dying. They didn’t choose it. They didn’t want it. Sometimes in the dead of night, when you convinced yourself to step past the threshold of the front door, you would wander the fields around the house, telling David in a whispered voice full of rage how much he had hurt you, how you couldn’t forgive him for this. 

Then, one day, you had gotten out of bed slowly, and wandered around the house in your pyjamas, when you found your mother pulling things out of the attic. She smiled at you, clambering down the ladder and wiping her dusty hands on her jeans before gently pinching your cheek between soft fingers. Her smile was soft, loving, a little bit sad because she had loved David too, loved the light and fun he had brought into the house, and she loved you more than anything and it hurt her to see you this way. 

“I’m just clearing out the attic, seeing if we have any things to donate,” she told you with a shrug as if you had asked her; your mouth hadn’t even been close to opening. You weren’t even looking at her, but at the box set next to the ladder, one of the top flaps pushed open and a peak of dark blue shimmery fabric flashing out. You got onto your knees, gently peeling the box fully open and pulling out the dress that had been shoved at the top. 

You spread it out on your lap, gently caressing the fabric as it fanned out and tears filled your eyes so you could no longer see the details, only the colour. It had been the dress from one of your favourite memories with David. 

It was only a few weeks after you guys had started dating, possibly a month after, and he had saved up some money to take you on an elaborate date. Dinner at the cute italian restaurant in the city centre, a stroll down to the ice cream shop, arm in arm, before he drove you out into the farthest corner of the farthest field of the farm in his pickup truck, the bed piled with every spare pillow and blanket from the house (including the ones from his own bed) so you guys could lay down snuggled up and stargaze. 

You had worn this dress, and kissed David until you were breathless, and he had been his best self, joking around and whispering sweet words in your ear and wrapping his big arms around you so your face was pressed into his chest and the world closed in to be just the two of you. 

And you smiled, a bright, watery, smile with sniffles and tears streaming down your cheeks as you caressed the fabric of the dress and your mother got on her knees to wrap herself around you as you hiccuped out sobs and pressed your face into the slightly musty dress. 

You had had probably the worst night of your life the night before you found the dress. Your thoughts had been the darkest they had ever been, verging on irreversible decisions that would have only made everything worse for everybody. And then here the dress was, reminding you of the happiness you had experienced with David, the elation and laughter and smiles and just pure joy he had brought to your life. And suddenly, for that moment, everything was a little better. 

And slowly, with each passing day, you got out of bed again and again, you left the house in the sunshine again and again, and you found all the signs of David, the little coincidences that meant just a little more because of him, because you believed he was trying, wherever he was, to still bring you happiness. 

And with these little encouragements, these little signs, you began to grow again. You refurbished the abandoned barn into an art studio, a place for you to use creativity to let out all the suffocating emotions. Each day you would come into the barn bright and early, just as a beautiful sunrise turned everything from orange to pale yellow, and you would sit down on the stool in front of the easel, and think, feel, paint. 

The signs kept coming, once a little bird, a sparrow, flying into the barn and landing at the top of your easel, watching you paint and occasionally letting out little chirps of encouragement. You spoke to it as if it was David, “I know it looks really dark right now, but I wanted a dark background so the bright colours in the middle would pop more later,” you explained. Another day it was the stray cat that hung around the farm, the one that had avoided you since her existence, suddenly coming to sit down beside your stool, purring and napping next to you the entire time you painted. “I love you,” you whispered to the cat as if it was David sitting down next to you again, “maybe too much.” 

And now here you were, humming some song from the radio as you painted a dark image, something to represent the moments of your hatred so long ago, something to capture it and put it away so you could look back and see how much you had grown since. The new person you had become. The person who understood that you couldn’t make the grief go away by hating the person you missed. The person who knew that she had been happy with David, but she could be happy now too, and both of these things can be true. The person who still didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle the grief and the feelings, but was ok with it anyway. 

So yes, there was a new you, a you after David that he wouldn’t get to meet. But you gave him the best of you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A/N: the emotional depths I went to to write this… 

Taglist: @nosebeers, @tourturedfolkloredepartment,

[percervall]

something good (in everything I see)

Driver: Fernando Alonso Words: 840 Warnings: Fluff, barely proof read

In which Uncle Nano can't help himself

From the moment Fernando saw the then 3-year-old with her little face squished against the glass as the three of them got ready to go karting, he knew that she had her dads’ love for adrenaline and speed. Jenson and Mark were tinkering away with the set ups of their go-karts, not aware of the little girl studying their every move, but he kept an eye on her, saw the cogs turning in that little head as she tried to understand what they were doing; as if it was a puzzle to her. It was there that Fernando made a promise that he would do whatever he could to feed that curiosity. 

It would take another two years before Fernando could honour his promise. Agnes’ parents were of the mindset that just because she’s the daughter of three F1 drivers, it should be her choice to pursue anything motor sport related. Fernando could understand their hesitancy; the legacy was a heavy cross to bear, Fernando had seen it far too often during his time in F1. And then Agnes’ fifth birthday rolled around and with that a wish list. Among the LEGOs, PlayDough, and a car for her Barbies, was the sign Fernando had been waiting for: a go-kart like Oscar so I can race with him. And well, why have millions in the bank if not to spoil your best friend’s children? Fernando used his own connections to build Agnes her first go-kart, choosing all the little details and even making sure it had its very own racing number. 

And so the big day arrived. Fernando was feeling a little nervous, worried he had overstepped somehow and made another promise: if Margot and Luke showed any interest, they, too, would get their first go-kart from their Uncle Nano. And if not, the money would go towards their education. 

He parks the van just out of sight and grabs the tiny helmet he had commissioned in Agnes’ favourite colours. Of course he had included his own personal sponsor and a few touches that would make it clear whose daughter she is. 

“Uncle Nano!” Agnes calls out when he enters the Magnussen-Hamilton-Webber home. 

“Hello preciosa, happy birthday!” he replies, setting the gift bag down on the table.

“Glad you could make it, mate,” Mark says, pulling him in for a one-armed hug, still holding Luke.

“Will always come to see my godson and nieces,” Fernando says, ruffling the little boy’s hair. Picking up the bag, he crouches down in front of the birthday girl. 

“I got you a present. Two actually.”

“Two presents?” Agnes asks, eyes round with curiosity. Fernando can’t help but smile as he nods. He hands her the bag and watches her tear open the wrapping paper.

“My own helmet! Mama look!” 

“I see baby! All your favourite colours too!” Agnes’ mother replies, her tone light but he can feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of his skull. 

“The other present is outside, wanna go see?” Fernando asks the girl, pointedly ignoring the stares from his best friend’s wife. Agnes eagerly nods her head and takes his hand.

“What did you do?” Mark asks him as they all follow him outside.

“I bought her a birthday present,” comes his reply, but the twinkle in Fernando’s eyes tells Mark all he needs to know. 

“Now, this was a bit difficult to wrap, preciosa,” Fernando says, clicking a button on his car keys and opening the doors on the back, “Oscar, a little help?” The younger driver nods and climbs in after him. “Close your eyes Agnes!” he calls out before he and Oscar carry the gift out of the van.

“Oh you silly old man,” he hears Agnes’ mother whisper while Jenson laughs. 

“Okay, pequeña, you can open them.” He watches as Agnes pulls her tiny hands down and sees the biggest smile light up her face.

“My own go-kart! And it’s orange like Oscar’s car!” Kevin, who had been carrying her up until then, walks closer and crouches down with her, pointing out all the different parts. 

“Oh my god, he’s even gotten her a racing number,” Jenson says, switching Margot to his other hip. 

“Yes,” Fernando says, suddenly feeling a little silly for being so sentimental, “I chose 66 because-..” 

“It’s all our numbers combined,” Lewis says, “44, 20 and 2. It’s all three of us represented.” Fernando nods, for once not sure what to say. 

“Mate, this must have-..” Mark starts but Fernando waves the concerns away.

“I have more money than sense, or whatever it is you say. If Margot or Luke ever show interest in racing, they will get one too. That little girl has the racing bug and I want to help her, and her siblings, achieve their dreams however I can,” Fernando says, looking over at Agnes, Kevin and Oscar who are still admiring the go-kart.

“Thank you,” Agnes’ mother says, and Fernando can tell she means it from the bottom of her heart as she hugs him tight. 

Inspired by a prompt sent in by @curiousthyme as part of this. If there's a fic you'd wish I'd write, please send it in!

I don't think I will ever be able to stop writing for these characters.

Please feel free to let me know what you think!

Mamma Mia fic masterlist

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 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

[a-slight-sweet-fiction]

I'm just saying that Kevin is such an important and powerful and meaningful character to I think MANY queer listeners who have survived religious (and other) abuse, and it would actually genuinely hurt my heart if his arc turned out to be:

"Once upon a time, there was a genuinely kind and selfless person who loved the people in his life enough to sacrifice himself to save them. But he wasn't strong enough, and found himself violently transformed into a tool of incredible violence, against his will.

"And the version of himself that still remembered what love and kindness were, that longed for human connection, survived within him. It persisted long after everything and everyone he had ever known had long since passed away. That version of him ached to live again, to be more than a twitch of the wrist in a body that no longer felt like his, to even remember his own name.

"That desire was so powerful that it manifested in the form of a young boy, one who hated everything he knew he would become and desperately tried to dismantle him.

"And finally, looking at his younger self, seeing it play out in this way, the older one finally regained enough pieces of his will. He consciously encountered a chance to change, to allow at least the young version of himself to be free again, to live happily in the real ways that a person can be happy, in ways that did not wrench the soul. He realized he had the choice to define his god with his beliefs, rather than the other way around. He took his younger self away from a god who wished to control him, and promised to raise him as his own.

"But in the end, the cycle could not be broken, because the violence within him was his, and he would not part with it. In the end, he chose to do harm. In the end, one day, he still chose to put the pot on the stove, and pour the boiling caramel into his own cupped palms."

[la-pata-fea]

Neil never cuts logs, never uses an axe, never uses weapons like machetes or things like that.

Andrew had a couple of those in their house in Columbia, but he got rid of them as soon as he knew what those weapons meant to Neil.

He also got rid of the cigarette lighters of his car, after seeing Neil freeze when he attempted using one to lit his cigarette and started using matches from then on.

He said he never liked to use them anyways.

[saragarnier]

Away from you

Pairing: jay halstead x reader

Summary: y/n doesn’t know where Jay truly is and she got worried

Warning: angst, slightly smut, cheating,

A/N: i will probably write a part 2, stay tuned!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Next part

You and Jay had been together for three years and everything looked good, at least it was ‘till the end of the march. You didn’t know or understand why he changed his behavior when he was with you, especially since it all happened so quickly and unexpectedly that you just couldn’t understand what happened between you two. From one day, he just started to behave differently, coming home later and telling you that he was just too busy at work, doing some paperwork and getting his things ready for the next shift. He made it looked like he was just trying to impress Voight and for a moment you actually believed him.

You knew how much he wanted to become, one day, sergeant and to be on the lead of his own unit and you just wanted to support him in any ways you could; if he wanted to make a good impression in case of a new sergeant, you wouldn’t have stop him. Actually, it looked like Voight was having some issues lately, from how Jay talked about him after work anyway, and you really trusted him and believed him about his story.

Then, one evening, you decided to go talk with Kim, having some times together and trying to explain to her what you had in mind: Jay’s birthday was closer than you thought and you had to find a good gift for him.

“I need you to help me.” You said to Kim, smiling softly. “Jay’s birthday is in two weeks and i want to surprise him with a two-days holiday. I know that he spends a lot of time at the district doing his paperwork and trying to make a good impression in case of a promotion, but i really need your help. Can you please find a good reason to get him home earlier on Friday’s night?”

Kim was surprised by your statement, not because of the surprise you were preparing for him, but for what you said about him staying at the district till late.

“What do you mean that he spends a lot of time at the district to make a good impression? He always leaves before me, actually he arrives earlier to complete the paperwork he usually leaves at the end of the shift.”

You were confused, you were really confused. What did that mean? If he usually left the district early in the evening, why he came home every night after 11 pm, when you were already sleeping?

“Uhm… he usually doesn’t come home before 11 pm.” You whispered, looking at Kim while your mind raced through all the nights you waited for him to come back home, before falling asleep because of the tiredness of the day at work.

“Y/n, i swear to God that he usually leaves at 7 pm, 8 pm if we’re up to something ‘till late.” Kim said, looking sadly at you, while something you didn’t want to admit passed through her mind.

“But… it doesn’t make sense.” You replied, shaking your head slightly. “What does he do between 7 pm and 11 pm then?”

The girl just shook his head, looking ad you sadly and placing her hand on yours, trying to reassure you in some ways. “Maybe it’s not something you have to worry about, maybe it’s just some stuff he had to do or, maybe, it’s just a bad moment for him. I remember he was like this when he suffered from PTSD.”

You nodded, but it didn’t make sense anyway. You remembered when Jay suffered from PTSD because you were always by his side, you were always there for him and you followed him step after step, trying to help him find his way out of it. It couldn’t be PTSD that time, you would have noticed immediately.

He wasn’t distressed like he was when he suffered from it, he was actually really happy and he was usually calm when he came back home.

It could be PTSD, but what was it then?”

“Sorry Kim, i have to go.” You whispered, looking at your phone and finding out it was just 9:30 pm; you had still plenty of time before he could have been home and you wanted to find out what was happening with your boyfriend, actually with your future husband.

“Don’t worry darling, it’s okay.” Kim whispered, smiling at you. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? Maybe you can come at the district one day and we can talk a little? Also Adam and Kevin missed you, you know. With all the preparations of the wedding, we didn’t see you around in a while.”

“Yeah, when i’m not at work at the hospital, i’m around the city trying some white dresses.” You sighed, wearing your jacket and placing some money on the table, paying for your own drink.

“I can imagine that. Don’t worry, really. I hope to see you again soon.” She smiled softly at you.

“I hope that too. Bye Kim, goodnight.”

You left the bar just ten minutes after and you immediately called the one and only that could have tracked Jay’s phone without a word: Mouse.

When he came back from the army, for the second time, you knew that it would have been difficult for him to start a new life again, especially after the first time. Jay helped him and, after some weeks in which he tried to convince him every single day, Mouse accepted to come back at the intelligence as a tech. It wasn’t an easy decision for him and it was strange at first, but he knew he had no better option and working with his friend was something he missed a lot.

He picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hi! Look who showed up!” He smiled and laughed. “I was actually asking myself when you would have called me to give me the official invite to your wedding, you know? I would have asked Jay, but he i’m pretty sure is not as much involved in the preparations as you are, so…”

“Mouse, i need your favor.” You told him straight away. “I can’t find Jay and I’m worried. Can you please track his phone and tell where he is? And, can you do that without anyone knowing it?”

It was a strange request, especially since it went from you, but Mouse got it immediately and he started to track Jay’s phone straight away. He was actually scared for his friend, he was scared that Jay got into real trouble, maybe with the ptsd or something liked that, but there was no time for questions. He tracked his phone and he gave her the address after only three minutes.

“Thank you, Mouse. Sorry if i interrupted your evening. I have to go now and, don’t worry, I’ll handle the invite in person, okay?” You said, getting inside the car while looking at the address Mouse gave to you. It could be true, why was he there?

“Don’t worry, no problem at all. I’ll leave you now, i guess you’re busy… just, tell me if anything happened to him, okay?” He replied, making sure that everything was okay, making sure that you would have called him in case of trouble.

“I will, thanks Mouse.”

When he hung up, you started the car and you drove to the location he sent you; why the hell was Jay at his old apartment? Didn’t he sell it?

When you arrived at the location, you parked the car and you got out as soon as you could, going up the stairs and reaching his door just few minutes after. Fortunately, you still knew where he used to hide the key and you went for it, opening the door as silently as you could. The first thing you noticed when you entered was the emptiness of the room: there was nothing there other than some furnishings and still you didn’t understand why Jay was there.

Then, you noticed it.

Then, you noticed them: heels and they weren’t yours.

Your mouth became dry and you stopped breathing properly, trying to find an explanation for what you were seeing. You took some steps forward and your eyes fell on the jeans and t-shirts that were on the floor, all the way up to what it was Jay’s bedroom before he moved out. You took the hallway, starting to hear voices, moans you didn’t want to hear, moans you just wanted to be from your neighbors, even if you knew that they were elderly and it couldn’t have been them. Just at the front of the door, you saw them: panties and Jay’s boxer.

Your brain stopped working, you stopped breathing and your heart almost stopped beating; you just couldn’t understand what was happing, you couldn’t believed it.

You zoned out, like you couldn’t have been there, like you were just in a dream, a bad dream, a really bad one, then you came back to reality when you actually saw and hear them.

“Oh, Jay.” She moaned, begging him. “Please, faster.”

Hailey.

Jay’s partner.

“God, Hails…” Your boyfriend moaned, lowering himself on her to kiss her breast while fucking her. “I… shit… you feel so good around me.”

“Oh, J-Jay!” She moaned louder, unaware of your presence on the frame of the door, where you were watching them, without breathing.

Jay took Hailey’s legs and he put it on his own shoulder, increasing the pace.

“Yes, cum around me, baby. Cum for me, i love you.”

Surprisingly. It wasn’t watching him fucking her that destroyed you: it was his last three words, the same three words he said to you every morning before going to work, the same three words he said to you on the phone when he was to busy at work to come home, even if he was actually heading to his old apartment, when he was able to fuck his partner whenever he wanted to.

You stepped back silently, to broken to face the truth, to heart broken to face him.

You stepped back and you left without saying a word, without make noise; you went back inside your car and only then, when Hailey’s and Jay’s moans were far away from you, you started breathing again.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks from minutes probably, but you couldn’t notice it before and you were to shocked to dry off your tears: you just wanted to add as many distance as you could between you and the man you thought was the love of your life.

You didn’t even went back to your apartment, you couldn’t have handle being again in the house that would have been yours,the house in which you hoped you would have started a family with Jay. You didn’t go back to your apartment to collect all your belongings, you just left.

You left a message to your boss’ office regarding your resignation and you drove away.

Away from Jay.

Away from your apartment.

Away from the life you dreamed of with him.

Away from the love.

Away from the pain.

Away from Chicago.

[justanoasisimagines]

Fluffy Headcanons

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and the banner

❀If you work with Kevin at the station. He'll purposely stop at your favorite coffee shop to pick you up your favorite hot drink and a pastry.

❀Kevin is someone who will hold open doors for you. He's going to walk subtly quicker so he can reach the door before you.

❀If Kevin leaves before you, he'll take the time to write you a note before he leaves. The notes always contain something sweet; a memory, a compliment or a plan for after work.

❀If Kevin makes you lunch for work, he'll also leave a note within your lunchbox. He wants to provide you with a pick-me-up throughout the day.

❀Kevin's the type of boyfriend to randomly surprise you at work. Kevin rarely gets off early, but when he's able coming to meet you is one of his favorite pastimes.

❀Kevin loves nothing more than curling up on the couch with you watching TV or a movie, especially after a long week.

❀If you don't work together, Kevin checks in with you whenever he can. Some cases are particularly channeling and some leave psychological scars. Kevin checks in to remind himself what's waiting for him at home.

❀Kevin finds himself singing along to the radio quietly. Moments like this often remind him of when you're in the car with him doing the same thing.

❀Kevin struggles to make date night a regular occurrence. However, because of this Kevin makes date nights as special as possible. He'll take you to dinner, to the movies, plan dates out for you etc.

❀Kevin's absolute weakness is when you come up behind him and begin to massage his shoulders. He enjoys the way your hands feel on his body. The softness of your touch while you work through the tension.

❀Kevin uses plenty of nicknames for you; darling. baby, sweetheart, angel etc. Nicknames become so frequent between the two of you, that it catches you off guard when he does use your name.

❀Kevin has a picture of the two of you as his home screen. He likes to unlock his phone so he can look down every so often while he's doing paperwork. The reason you're not his lock screen is to lower the risk of someone coming after you for being associated with him.

[sungbeam]

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

artist!kevin moon x senator's daughter!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything smelled the same, felt the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched him leave. "Good night."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh. Hi."

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

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

That made the both of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. I want to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marriage?

“It—it’s nothing—”

“Nothing,” he repeated, speechless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kevin, I…” There it was again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. Not even if you tried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You first,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tilted your gaze over to him.

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

Your chest ached.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tbz m.list

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

[kevinsdsy]

“kevin left evermore as soon as the coast was clear, and it had taken weeks to convince riko and the master jean was innocent and ignorant.”

ii. kevin day’s pov

kevin day held his own broken hand in his right, non-dominant, hand. he couldn't believe what had happened to him. his disbelief when he realised he'd never play exy again was more deafening than the pain in his hand.

i need to get out.

i need to get out of evermore. evermore is not my place.

it was the only thing going through kevin's mind right now and the thought was almost as sickening as the look of his broken and bloodied hand. kevin had always known his place was at evermore with riko by his side and with an exy stick in his hand, but now that riko took the only thing away from kevin that had kept him in this horrible place, he knew this place would be the death of him.

he had to get out of here. he'd grief his broken hand later. for a split second he realised he'd have as much time to grief his broken hand as he’d liked when he was out of this place. he wasn’t gonna be using it anyway.

riko had left him alone with jean. it wouldn't be too long before he'd come back and kevin knew when he did it would most likely be too late for kevin.

iii. jean moreau’s pov

jean moreau watched as kevin was trying his best to push through a panic attack. kevin's face was smeared with tears, but jean doubted kevin even noticed— kevin only had eyes for his broken hand and jean knew riko had gone too far this time.

kevin day was nothing without this sport. it was all kevin had and all kevin truly seemed to care about. jean helplessly stared at kevin. he couldn't fix this. a broken hand wasn't the kind of pain someone could push through to keep playing this sport.

"help me." kevin's voice sounded so small. jean could almost not make out his words through kevin's quiet sobs. but kevin had been there for jean so many times before, he could not turn his back on him now. jean knew he would do anything for the man sitting in front of him, so when kevin begged him for more time, jean did as he was told. he promised he would try to get kevin as much time as he could get— he didn't dare to promise him as much time as kevin needed though. jean didn't think that time would ever come and riko definitely wouldn’t let them have it, anyways.

ii. kevin day’s pov

it did cross kevin's mind to take jean with him. he could maybe beg for jean's life and freedom in return for what was taken away from him, but kevin knew jean better than that.

jean would not follow him out there. his place was here at evenmore and when jean found out kevin was planning to leave, he would try to stop him.

"help me." kevin said in french. he didn't recognize his voice, but he didn't care. what was his voice in comparison to the hand they had taken away from him? "i need more time." kevin begged. "i don't want to see him. i can't see him yet." jean didn't have to ask who kevin was talking about. jean would understand he was talking about riko.

jean didn't ask any questions in return. he didn't give kevin any reassuring words either. they both knew it would not make a difference. jean gave kevin a small nod and left the room. kevin took a few seconds to mourn his broken hand and then he got up.

they had given both riko and kevin a car in his freshman year. it was a stupid mistake they had made— a mistake they probably would regret when they realised it would be kevin’s way out of this place. kevin never had much use for his car since ravens weren't supposed to leave the nest anyways, but he was glad for it now.

kevin could barely recall his steps, but he didn't dare to look back. all he needed right now was to get this one task done. get to his car and drive.

he was scared if he'd turn around now he would stand face to face with riko again. riko would look at him with an amused face if he found out kevin tried to escape. kevin’s punishment in return would be beyond anything he could imagine— but then he remembered the broken hand, fought the urge to throw up, and he knew it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

he found his black car. it didn't have enough fuel to make it far enough to be safe from the nest, but it would be enough to get him to a gas station. he started the engine and left.

iii. jean moreau’s pov

jean could feel new bruises form on his body. the master was watching as riko tried to get the truth out of jean.

jean had given him the truth. he didn’t know where kevin was. he didn’t know kevin would leave. if he had known, he would have stopped him. but riko didn’t seem to like this version of the truth.

jean was tired and in so much pain, but even the pain couldn't have made him forget that kevin had damned him to this place. he was truly all alone now.

"why would you tell me to give kevin time if you didn't know he'd leave?" riko scoffed in japanese. jean looked up at him and it took all effort to remember the right language.

"he told me he wanted to be alone." riko begged in a desperate attempt to proof his innocence yet again. "you broke his hand." jean knew it was a fact, but riko could hear the silent accusation in his words.

you were an accomplice in kevin's crime. you made him leave.

"enough." the master's voice carried through the whole room. riko was holding jean up by his shirt, but even jean could feel the quick stiffen in riko's grip.

it took jean all the effort he could muster to look at the master, but the master looked bored of jean's abuse.

jean expected another accusation to his name or maybe a sentence for the unjust crime he hadn't committed, but instead the master left the room. it was possible his phone had rung in the process, because he had switched from japanese to english and was talking to himself while leaving the room.

jean wouldn't know. he was left alone with riko again. he was forced to fight against the pain like he had done many times before. he silently wished when he’d wake up, kevin would still be among the ravens.

[hcuyk]

SYNOPSIS : changmin loves you. the happier ending to kidult

PAIRING : daycareworker!changmin x genderneutral!reader

GENRES : established relationship, daycare au, angst, fluff, features the boyz as children

WARNINGS : mentions of car accident and child neglect

TEASER WORD COUNT : 329

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT : 7-10k

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE : within the next week. i lied its coming out when i get time cause why tf is my college doing sm

TAGLIST : @stealanity @yourjaylaks @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @armysantiny @changminurheart @moonieric @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @simpforsunwoo @nyujjan @i6swoo @karsohn @nilesig @twentysixofmays @changmin-wrlds @mavericsohn @lisori @nanamioo @enhacolor @kyswoo @sunwoahkim @jaerisdiction @yunkiwii @ja4hyvn @choielyssa @crazywittysassy @yenart @sleepymoon27 @st1ngrayz — lmk if you want to be added!

A/N : to all the patient people who stuck with me for two years and waited for this very moment. i never thought this was going to happen, but here we are. jeonghan's teaser will release twelve hours from now

K. COLLECTION [J.CM] ONE | TWO

Tears began to stream down your face, unable to hold them back, and you were thankful Changmin missed it, but when you heard him apologize, you turned around and snapped at him.

“What the hell do you even want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You had two weeks to talk to me!” you yelled, fighting the loudness of the rain. The stream of tears ran faster down your cheeks as you brought a hand to your forehead, shielding the rain from getting into your eyes.

“I tried!”

“By knocking on my door for an hour straight at two in the fucking morning?! You could’ve called! You have a key!”

“Well it’s not like you tried either—”

“I got hit by a car!” you screamed, storming towards him as the sky reflected your mood. The thunder was just as loud as the pounding in your heart, and the rain poured just as much as your tears. You pushed Changmin, and behind him you saw a crack of lightning. Your vision started to blur as you didn’t hold back your sobs, wanting to show him the pain he’d inflicted on you ever since he left.

“I got hit by a car, Changmin! What about you? Were you hit by a car?! A truck? Perhaps a plane?” You forced out a manic laugh before continuing. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess,-”

“Y/N—”

“-mauled by a bear?”

“I can explain-”

“Tell me I’m goddamn overreacting.” You took a step forward, and instead of pushing him again, you stared, making him look at the pain he created. “Tell me I’m overreacting, Jichang. Look me in my eyes and say it loud and clear.”

“I knew you’d be there for me.”

“I missed you, I needed you-”

“I know.”

“The day I lose you is the day I lose myself.”

“I don’t want you to wake up and realize I’m not the one for you. I don’t want that for us.”

it isn't a vae fic if there isn't angst Y'ALL AREN'T ESCAPING 👹👹 if i take longer than a week with this fic, i'll post a second (happier) teaser

it's been two years guys!! i'll be surprised if anyone sees this at all. if you do, please reblog and share, or even give me some support/hype in the comments. i want everyone who wanted a happy ending to see this <3