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aleksadnezz · 4 years ago

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Sweet Night 5

Jae x Reader

“I’m sorry.” I said while still damping the tissue on his wet hoodie.

“It’s okay. What were you saying again?” He took the tissue from me and he do it on his own.

“Oh I was just gonna ask if you are?” I raised my lanyard to show the keychain to him. His small eyes widen when he saw it.

“How did you now?” He asked. So it’s true??? OMG!!!! My lips formed a big smile. I can’t believe, I’m going to tell it to Ara she would be excited.

“I saw your stuff animals’ collection.” I said cheerfully and pointed his shelves.

He looked at It and returned his eyes on me. He still looked confused so I tried to explain what I mean.

“I actually have a friend, she gave me this and she told me it’s a merch from a kpop group, you have the same so I assumed that you are..” He looked at me waiting me to continue speaking. I can clearly see the nervousness from his eyes. He might think that I’ll tell to other people what I know.

“You are a fan too.”

“Please don’t tell it to other people-“

We spoke at the same time but I heard what he said. He softly laughed and scratched the back of his nape.

“Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m a fan too.” He shyly said.

“Don’t worry I won’t say it.” I said, now I’m hesitating if I’m gonna share this to Ara. I bet she would be happy if I told her that I have a fanboy friend. It’s still weird for me to have a neighbor that is my friend too because I’m not that friendly. What in a bigbang theory is this, except that we’re both introverts and he don’t have a Sheldon.

“Uh have you seen or heard anything about that group?” He suddenly asked. I shook my head.

“Nah. I only know that they’re one of the kpop groups.” I said. I heard him laughed so I looked at him. “Why?”did I said something wrong?

“Nothing. I think they’re more of a kband than a kpop but that’s okay.” He explained. I know nothing about any of that but I like bands for sure I would like them. I almost forgot about the group that Ara said to me earlier, I’ll try to listen to them maybe I would like them too, the thing is I forgot their group name, I’ll just ask Jae if he knows it.

“By the way you know a kpop group that has kids in their name?”

“Stray Kids?”

“Yeah! that’s right, Stray Kids.”

“You like them?”

“Not really I’ll just start listening to them actually.” He nodded. “My friend will bring me to their concert so..”

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“You can come too. I will tell to my friend.” I suggest. Since he’s a fan too might as well invite him to their concert. “Have you attended a concert before? Because I haven’t” I laughed.

“Yeah I’ve been into some concerts, I perform there.” He said the last words under his breath so I didn’t hear it clearly.

“Ha?” I asked but he only shook his head and smiled at me.

“I’ll try to join you with your friend in the concert.”

“Cool!! I’d let you know..” I said. I wonder if he has other socials, but I still don’t know how his name spelled so it’s hard to find him. “Anyway, I think my job here is done so I’m now gonna head out. I have to feed the cat.”

We walked over his opened door. Before I turn and bid him goodbye he spoke.

“How’s Minnie by the way. I haven’t seen her.” He said. Of course you haven’t, you didn’t leave your room for a week.

“She eats a lot and whines a lot. So if you heard her in the middle of the night please don’t knock on my door.” He let out a smiley laugh where I can see his pearly white teeth and the disappearance of his eyes.

“It’s a cute cat. I won’t get mad.” He assures.

“I’ll keep that in my mind.” I raised my finger and pointed my head. I glance at his stretched lips, and that smile. what? I didn’t say that.

Today is Friday and I got off from work extra early. When this happens usually Ara and I would go to mall to window shop or I just accompany her but today she told me that she has something to go to. Also, I didn’t tell Ara about Jae yet, maybe soon if he agrees to come with us to the concert.

I went straight home after my shift so I can go to market. Minnie is running out of cat food supply and I’m running out of food too. I also want to have a chill night where I’d lay on my bed while I watch sum movies. I quickly changed my polo into a shirt and sweats. I wore the glasses that I only wear when I use my computer or phone. I went in front of my mirror to check myself. I stared at my reflection for a long time trying to examine what seems weird. Was it my face? I don’t have dirt on my face and I don’t look tired either. It’s the clothes. I look like Jae. Sweats and glasses, I look comfy as heck.

I don’t want to spend time just to change so I’ll just ignore that I accidentally dressed up as my neighbor, as if that I would bump into him today, I barely see that guy. I carry my tote bag with my phone and wallet in it, and I wore my slides. I left my apartment and locked it.

“You’re going out too?”

I jolted when I heard a voice. Speaking of my neighbor, in fact I don’t even have to turn around just to know who it is. Still, I turned around to face him.

“Yeah, just grocery and you?” Thank g he’s wearing a black hoodie while mine’s gray.

“I need to pick up something.” He said while he’s locking his door.

“Where do you grocery shop?” He asked. I waited him so we can walk together.

“Emart.”

“My way is also there; do you want a ride? I already booked a grab.” He showed me his phone with the said grab. I mean free ride? Of course I do.

“Sure.” The lift opens so we enter. From 15 floor going to ground floor is a long ride so I made myself busy by observing every single thing that I see here inside the lift. When we entered there are already sum people inside, 2 guys and a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I’m judging them, but from what I can see, what they’re doing considered PDA already. Hugging, laughing and teasing like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t know if those guys are annoyed too and just trying to ignore them or maybe it’s just only me. I glanced to Jae to see what he’s doing, looks like he’s not bothered at all. His left hand slipped inside the pocket of his pants; other hand is on his phone.

Another person entered the lift. I moved backwards so she can have space. The couple moves backwards too so they’re now standing beside me, I can even feel her bag nudging my arm but I tried to ignore it. Within a hot minute her arm hit my side causing me to bumped Jae. I looked at the couple as calm as I can possibly can.

“I’m sorry miss.” “sorry miss.” They both said in union.

“It’s okay.” I said calmy and showed my nicest smile. I want my afternoon to be chill and stress free plus I may see them again I want to protect my pure reputation as a good neighbor. Suddenly I felt a hand on my elbow that slowly pulled me closer to him. I felt an electric shock that send shivers all over my body. I stood frozen next to him because of how close we are. I can even smell his perfume, it’s like a mixture of fresh fruity and baby powder. I wonder where he bought it.

He let go of my arm when we reached the ground floor. We walked towards the entrance of the building but I stayed walking behind him. He looked back at me and stopped walking so I can catch up with him. When we got out the building, we can see that there’s a car already waiting. Jae made me get on first and I thought that he would sit beside the driver but he sat next to me.

It’s rush hour already and we we’re caught by traffic. I stared outside the car window like I always do when I commute. There’s time where I’m channeling my main character vibes when I look outside the window. None of us is taking and the sound from the cardio radio playing sum R&B soul songs was the only noise. Jae was busy scrolling through his phone, though I don’t want to bother him but I feel like I should speak.

“So where are you heading to?” I blurted out. I tried not to look at him directly so I stared at the driver’s seat.

“Somewhere near the TBD Company”

“Isn’t that where most celebrity’s hangout or sumthin?” I’ve never been into that area and I know that, that place is one of the richest districts.

“Well not all because I go there all the time.” He said before he turned off his phone and looked at me.

“Have you ever bumped to a celebrity?” I asked. For sure he had at least once, especially when he said that he have been there a lot.

“Just some of them. I’ve always seen Mark Tuan in a coffee shop that I go to, you know him?” Is he kidding? I think he’s the only famous person that I could remember that Ara ever told me. She showed me a video clip of him dancing and I think I forgot to breathe for a sec, plus he got the cutest smile. I must admit that prolly have a thing for people’s smile.

“You mean the very good-looking guy?” I said in awe and he laughed at my reaction. Well, I only said what know is true.

“Yeah, that very good-looking guy.” He said casually as if that he knows him but he’s still laughing. Wait if he seen some celeb then he might have seen his Kpop Idols.

“How about your favorite Kband? Day6?” I’m honestly just guessing, but I believe most of the company’s are located there so assume that they work there. Instead of answering me he let out a fake cough.

I immediately understood what he’s trying to say so I leaned to him and whispered. “Okay I won’t mention in public that you’re a Kpop fan.”I assure him. I find it funny that he’s getting conscious and shy about other people knowing that he’s a fanboy.

“No actually.. yeah alright, I’ll just take that.” Yeah, whatever Jae. I looked outside and saw that we’re almost near the market, I turned to Jae and poked him.

“You can drop me off here.” He nodded.

“Mr. can you pull over to the next street.” Jae said.

“Thank you for the ride Jae.”

“No worries, what time you will be done?”

“I don’t know I may take a while.” I may take a while since I don’t have a grocery list so I’ll prolly have to go to every aisle to remember all the stuff that I needed, a life hack that I learned when I started living on my own.

The driver pulled the car off the road. I turned to Jae before I opened the door.

“Thank you again.” I said and he smiled. I opened the door and got off the car. I waited for them to leave before I enter the market.

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#day6 #day6 jae #jae #eaj park #eaj #jaehyung #day6 fluff #day6 x reader #jae x reader #day6 imagines #sweet night #fanfiction #au

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asa-sauce · 5 years ago

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those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face. It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #ukai keishin #ukai x y/n #ukai x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke #asahi azumane #haikyuu fanfiction

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santoteez · 5 years ago

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Inferno - An Ateez Seven Deadly Sins Series (Pride)

Idol(S): Ateez

Genre: Demon!Ateez, Smut(eventually)

Part to this series: 2

Warnings: Mentions of murder, details of murder, smut, femdom, facesitting, mentions of death, assault, foul language (Sorry if I forget any! It’s a long chapter I wrote over the course of a week)

Note: This series does NOT reflect any member of Ateez or their personality realistically. This is pure fiction.

Word Count: 6,867

I’M POSTING THIS DURING RAMADAN SO I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD SAY THIS IS NOT SAFE FOR RAMADAN. PLEASE REFRAIN FROM READING AT THIS TIME (OR AT ALL) AND RAMADAN MUBARAK!

Hongjoong and the boys all gathered at the side of the office where a large armoire stood tall in the center.

“Pride, once I open the portal, just jump through and you will land in New York City. Once your feet hit the ground, time will start ticking, so make sure to keep tabs on the days.” Hongjoong said, preparing the opening process.

“Do I need to take anything with me? Just the file?” Pride asked.

“Just the file. When you arrive, you’ll have everything you need on your person. Things like groceries and toiletries can be bought once you’re there. Don’t fret if she’s apprehensive at first, I gave you a challenge for a reason. Sarina doesn’t just warm up to anyone.”

“Joong, I can get her. You don’t have to worry. After all, it’s me.” He remarked, adjusting his jacket.

“Show off.” Envy rolled his eyes.

“Who wouldn’t show off all this?” Pride asked.

“I need silence.” Hongjoong said sternly. He approached the armoire, raising his hand in front of him. He spoke, eyes shut tightly.

“Due to the nature of this task, I hereby release the Deadly Sin Pride from the depths of hell for the next seven days. On the eve of the seventh day, he is to return with his assignment. It is for this reason I will open the threshold separating the two worlds.”

The armoire doors swung open, an electrifying blue ring of light erupting from the center.

“Pride, good luck once again, and do not disappoint me.”

Pride nodded, giving the rest of his brothers a nod goodbye and walked through the portal. The light flashed, enveloping him and the armoire doors slammed shut promptly after he walked through.

“Welp, he’s gone. What now?” Sloth asked.

Hongjoong shrugged. “We wait. I’ll check on him on the 3rd day, so you’re all free to join me when that happens. Until then, he’s on his own.”

Pride felt the sensation of freefalling until his boots hit hardwood. He looked around to see he was standing in a fully furnished condominium. File still in tote, he flipped through the pages.

Name: Sarina Thomas

Age: 21

Occupation: Bartender at the Bluemist Lounge

Relationship Status: Single

Family: Mother, 2 younger siblings; Relationship nonexistent, Father deceased

Likes: Art, body modifications, trying new foods, drinking, fucking, occasional smoking

Dislikes: Men, love, fragile masculinity

Kinks: Femdom, Rigger, Ballbusting, Humiliation, Praise, Degradation, etc.

Pride squinted as the list of kinks went on and on. Hates men, huh? No wonder she was his assignment. It takes someone who’s sure of himself to get past that. He realized his pockets felt heavier, remembering Hongjoong’s talk about everything he needed would be on his person.

He dug through them, finding a set of keys, presumably from the apartment he’s in. A wallet, with various credit cards in them and an ID, all of which said the same name.

Jeong Yunho

He grimaced at the name, memories of his past life flooding back. The nerdiness and glasses, the low self-esteem, the bullying, the constant badgering, the night he snapped.

The wallet had some cash in it, along with the pins to the cards inside. The keys had a keychain with the address to the condo: 1 Park Place.

He moved to the kitchen. It was empty but fully furnished with a fridge and appliances. Pride, or Yunho as he now had to refer to himself as, figured he’d wasted enough time looking around. It was time to find his target and see what he was working with.

It was dark outside as he exited the building, the phone he found in his back pocket stated 11:30. If he left now, he’d make it to the lounge just in time for the ambiance to pick up, when people tend to move to the dancefloor, and leave the bartender alone.

He plugged in the name of the lounge into Google and decided to catch a cab. He paid the cabbie and got off 15 minutes later, paying the fee at the door and slipping past the sweaty, dancing bodies heading straight for the bar.

There she was, wiping down glasses. Her large crown of curls adorned her face like a mane. She had a nose piercing and tattoos peppered along her chestnut arms. She had on a sleeveless shirt with slashes down the front and high waisted jeans. Yunho made it to the bar, settling onto an empty stool.

“Got room for one more customer?” He asked.

Sarina looked him up and down, observing his crisp white button-down and black slacks. He shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

“What fortune 500 company office did you stumble out of?” She asked, putting the glasses away. “We’re pretty far away from Wall St.”

Yunho furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what Wall St was, but it sounded like she thought he was a businessman. Was it the clothes?

“None, actually. I don’t have an office.” He said truthfully. “My line of work is...unorthodox.”

“Oh? Enlighten me, then.” She said, taking out a clean glass. “Also, what can I get you?”

“Jack Daniels, please. Honey.” He watched her reach for a bottle in the rack behind her. “I guess you can say I’m in charge of…very valuable shipments.”

“Valuable? Like diamonds and shit?” She asked, sliding the glass towards him. “Card, please. All cards are held as agreement to pay your tab.”

Yunho nodded, reaching for his wallet. Pulling out a black card, he slid it across the table. “Yeah, diamonds are possible. Usually whatever the boss says.”

“Someone like you, that walks like he shits roses, isn’t his own boss?”

Yunho shrugged. “What’s wrong with being the right-hand man? Besides, the boss never gets to have fun.”

“Really? What kind of fun do you have?” She asked, pouring herself a glass of Jack Daniels as well.

“Going back and forth with beautiful women is always fun.”

Sarina rolled her eyes. “Figured you’d say that. Listen, if you think I’m going to get flustered and dance into your bed, you can take that idea and shove it up your-”

Yunho put his hand up, stopping her before she went any further. “I don’t think any of that. You said it yourself, I think highly of myself. If I were trying to just fuck you, I would’ve said that a while ago. Don’t get so defensive. I’m an angel.” He smirked, taking a sip of his drink.

Sarina shook her head. “Something tells me that’s a lie.”

She had no idea how right she was.

Yunho and Sarina talked back and forth up until closing, but not before exchanging numbers. Yunho even waited with her until her Uber arrived. He made a mental note to download the app. He made his way back to the condo, showering and getting into bed in just a pair of boxers. After texting Sloth through an app he found on the phone, he decided to call it a night.

He woke up around noon. Realizing he didn’t have any groceries, he decided to get dressed and go shopping. Remembering what Sarina said, he checked to see if the closet had any clothes besides his suit he always wore back home. Opening the closet, he saw all kinds of clothing. Jeans, shorts, tees and hoodies in his size. Considering it was kind of hot when he went out last night, he opted for a black and white striped tee with jeans. He found some white converse on the floor and put those on too. His hair had fully air dried from his shower, so he left it as it was. Grabbing his keys and wallet, he headed out, googling the closest supermarket.

He took a cart from the entrance and made his way through the aisles, picking up random things. It was mainly things he could microwave or boil quickly; he wasn’t much of a cooker. While trying to decide on a soda, he noticed a familiar set of arms reaching for a bottle of juice on the top shelf. Yunho watched as she cutely jumped, but the bottle was just too high up.

Yunho came up behind her. “I got it.” He said, lowering the bottle to her reach.

Sarina sighed. “Thanks, but I never asked for he-” She paused, seeing who it is. “Hey, I know you. You stalking me?”

Yunho smiled. “I guess I should’ve led with my name last night. I’m Yunho.”

“Yunho, I’m Sarina. Everyone calls me Rina.” She said, and Yunho had to nod like he didn’t already know. “What brings you around here?”

“Well, I have zero groceries so I had to stock up.”

Sarina glanced at his cart. “Looks like you don’t own a stove either. What’s with all the microwaveables?”

Yunho smiled. “I’m not the best cook so, this is what I’m working with.”

Sarina shook her head. “Men.”

“You could come over and teach me a thing or two? Make sure I don’t burn down my kitchen?”

“Come into a man’s bachelor pad by myself? You’re asking me for a lot, Yunho.”

“Understood. A random guy walks up to your bar, strikes up conversation then pops up on you in the juice aisle of Whole Foods, and invites you to his house. For all you know I could be some serial killer that wants to skin you alive. I expect a self-assured woman like yourself to be cautious at all times. But I can assure you, I just want to know you.”

“Why me?” Sarina asked, observing his outfit. A sharp contrast from last night. Maybe not Fortune 500 after all.

“Why not? I just got to town and I can tell you’re the most intriguing one here.”

“Just got to town? From where?” She asked.

“From…down south.” Yunho quipped.

“Like Texas?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Something like that.” Yunho reached for a bottle of Sprite, placing it in the cart.

“Your answers are so clipped. You’re like a mystery.”

“Maybe if you came over, you’d be able to peel back some layers.” He answered, looking at the snacks.

“You don’t quit, do you? What do I get if I go?” Sarina taunted.

“You get to spend time with an amazing guy.”

“You’re very prideful, you know?”

“You have no idea.” Yunho pursed his lips. “So, is that a yes?”

Sarina contemplated. “That is an ‘I’ll take a chance on you.’” She said, turning her cart around to walk in the same direction as Yunho.

While online, Sarina noticed Yunho had a lot of stuff. “Did you bring a shopping cart?”

“Nope, I can carry it. It’s not too far.”

She stared incredulously. “You can put the frozen things and the soda in my cart. Don’t break your back trying to be a macho man.”

They walked back to Yunho’s building and made it to his apartment.

“For someone who does shipping, you live pretty lavish. I can tell your company ain’t no FedEx.” She walked into the kitchen. “Wow, when you said your kitchen was empty you weren’t kidding. How recently did you move?”

“Pretty recent, I’ve just been ordering food. I finally went shopping since I feel like I’m gaining weight.”

“That’s what you look like when you’re gaining weight? I’m jealous. Well, we don’t have all day so let’s get cooking!”

They spent the whole afternoon together, cooking, eating, and having fun. Yunho found out Sarina’s family doesn’t talk to her because she’s blamed for her father’s death. Common drunk trait: Oversharing.

“I had just gotten off the phone with him; it was a really nasty argument. So, he decided to drive over to my apartment. This was around the time I was in bartending school, and I lived nearby campus. He wasn’t obeying the laws of the road. Rammed straight into an 18-wheeler. Died on impact.”

“And your mom thinks that’s your fault?”

“Basically. Says that had I not argued with him or gotten him agitated he wouldn’t have been on the road that night and he’d still be here. After the funeral, she said she never wanted to see me again. That to her, I died when he did.”

Yunho sighed. This wasn’t something he missed about being a human. Whether it was Lust upsetting a girl in town by stringing her along, or Greed stealing from the neighbors for the fifth time that week, in Inferno you either fessed up to what you did or Hongjoong made you. And in the end, no one felt guilty. Not just because they were demons, but because Inferno was a shameless environment. You didn’t fear guilt because you were already expected to behave like shit.

“I hope you know that’s bullshit,” Yunho said, continuing when she just shrugged. “Everything happens for a reason. What I say next might be insensitive but had he not passed away that day, or even if you had not argued that day, death is inevitable. It would have found him eventually. And that’s not on you.” He said, taking a swig of cognac.

“What about you?”

Yunho rested his head in his palm. “What about me?”

“I feel like you’ve gotten to know so much about me, but I know nothing about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Something. Anything. Your story.”

Yunho sighed. “Well, I can say that growing up, I wasn’t always this confident or sure of myself.”

“How come?”

“I was a dorky little kid, brown hair, and glasses. Kept to myself and stuttered a lot, so I was the butt of the jokes. My books in the toilet, spitballs, punching, kicking, shoving. The whole package. I lived in a small town in North Carolina, and there weren’t many options to go to school, so the bullying continued all through junior year of high school.”

“What happened senior year?”

Yunho hesitated, not wanting to admit what really happened. He had already said too much. “I moved to the city. Continued my education there. Met my boss there, began entry-level in the company, errands, and shit. Made my way to right-hand man.” He shrugged, pouring himself another glass.

“Well, I’m glad you were able to overcome that. It takes strong people to come out on the other side of harassment. I’m proud of you.” Sarina smiled. “It’s so weird, I just met you less than 24 hours ago, but I feel so drawn to you. It’s like a magnet is pulling me your way.”

“Be careful talking to me that way,” Yunho muttered, his voice dropping slightly. “I’m still a man, after all.”

Sarina rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t meant for you to take that way. Be a gentleman, Yunho.”

After cleaning up, it was time for Sarina to go. She still had all her groceries with her, after all. Yunho walked her back to her building, agreeing for her to come over to his place before her shift. On his walk back, he heard a ding from his phone.

It was a message from Hongjoong. “Be up early tomorrow. Your brothers and I will video chat you in the morning. Need to know your 3-day progress.”

Yunho chuckled. “Okay, mom.” He texted back, before resuming his walk back. He went straight to bed, knowing Hongjoong would call at the crack of dawn.

Yunho’s phone woke him up at 6:00am. Suddenly, his brothers all popped up on his screen.

“Hi, Pride!” Sloth beamed.

Yunho smiled. “Hey, Sloth. How’s it going?”

“Boring. No one else hangs with me down here.”

“What’s so great about hanging out with Pride? I hung out with you last night!” Envy said.

“You sat in my room for 15 minutes and complained about all the things you want but can’t have.” Sloth said.

Envy rolled his eyes. “High standards.” He muttered.

“Yunho, how are things going with Sarina?” Hongjoong asked.

“I think it’s going great. We hung out yesterday, and she’s coming over again today. Then, from here we’ll head to her job. At this rate, I should be able to talk to her about the mission in a couple of days.”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s what I like to hear. I believe you will complete your tasks with no errors. Take notes, gentlemen. Trust is essential in the process.”

“Rooting for you, Pride!” Gluttony asked bowl of cereal in tote.

Gluttony, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t eat breakfast during the call.” Hongjoong stated, exasperated.

“What breakfast? This is a snack!” Gluttony emphasized.

Hongjoong sighed. “Pride, before you go, I should warn you. When the time is right for you to tell Sarina the truth, your representative color will glow from your chest. This is basically a warning that if you don’t take the opportunity, your success rate drops by at least 50%. So, if you glow, start talking. The same will happen for each of you, so keep it in mind when your time comes. Pride, don’t screw this up. And most importantly, when she asks, tell her everything. I’ll see you when you get back.”

After a collective “Bye, Pride!” from the council, the call ended. Yunho fell into a deep sleep shortly after. He got up from bed a couple hours later, stretching his arms to the sky. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, checking the time. It was half-past 11, Sarina should be on her way soon. He showered after eating, changing into some fresh clothes. An hour later, there was no sign of her so he decided to cook some rice and chicken, the same way she taught him so they’d have something to eat when she did pop up. Time stretched along and still no sign of Sarina. He texted her, letting her know he was waiting. Perhaps she forgot?

More time past and Yunho got worried. It was almost time for her shift to start, and she still had not shown up. Glancing at his phone, he saw she never opened his text either. Checking the file, there were no other places she frequented besides her house, work, and the supermarket, especially at this hour. So, either something happened, or she was avoiding him.

Slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys, he headed out of the house. He reached the curbside and stuck his arm out.

“TAXI!”

He tossed the guy a twenty and stormed into the club, completely ignoring the bouncer. He scanned the room, full of people enjoying happy hour. No sign of Sarina. Instead, the bartender was an older guy, probably early 30s. Yunho slammed his hands down onto the counter.

“Where is she?” He asked.

“Where’s who?” The guy asked although he seemed to know exactly what Yunho meant.

“Sarina.”

The guy shrugged. “Not here. She doesn’t live here, you know.” He chuckled. “Why? You got a crush?” He laughed again, halting abruptly when he saw a glint of purple in his brown eyes.

“Well, if you see her, tell her I’m worried and I came looking for her,” Yunho said sweetly, sarcasm clear in his voice. He turned around and walked out of the establishment.

He didn’t see the bartender text, “He just left.”

Defeated, he headed back to his apartment, figuring it was best to just let her rock for the night and check on her again in the morning. It’s not like they were dating, right? Maybe he was just being paranoid.

Sighing as he entered the house, he removed his jacket before locking the door.

“AH!” He groaned as he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder blade. Looking over, he saw a butcher knife lodged into his back. He furrowed his eyebrows. Was he being robbed?

“Who the fuck are you?” A hostile voice said.

“Sarina?” Yunho asked, walking into the living room.

“Don’t come any closer, I have more knives.” She said, backing up.

Yunho reached back, pulling the knife out of his back with a grunt. He threw it on the floor. “What are you talking about? I told you. I’m Yunho.”

“I figured you would say that.” Sarina balled up a paper and tossed it at him. “16-year old Jeong Yunho found guilty on several counts of premeditated murder in the first degree in a courtroom in Northampton, NC. Jeong’s victims were found lifeless in their homes with multiple lacerations and acid burns to their skulls, torsos, and legs. The arms of his victims were never found, but it is speculated he broke them before severing-”

“OKAY. Okay, I get it. Enough.” Yunho raised his arm.

“Don’t upset me more. Before I give you another gash.” She warned.

Yunho scoffed, taking his shirt off and showing her his clean, unscathed back. “What gash?”

She blinked in disbelief. “That’s impossible. That was in your back! You pulled it out!”

“Sarina, just let me explain…”

“No! This doesn’t make any sense. This article says you were sixteen in 1990. It’s 2020.”

Yunho’s chest, as if on cue, began to glow a vivid purple. The light shone brightly from his chest, illuminating the entire room. Then, just as quick as it had shone, it diminished into nothing.

“This just keeps getting even weirder. Did you just fucking glow?”

“Alright, Sarina. Listen closely because I’m going to answer your questions. In my childhood, I was bullied for the smallest of reasons. My family wasn’t as well-off as the rest of the town, with my father being the local garbage man, struggling to make ends meet. For the most part, I put up with the taunting, name-calling, having food thrown at me, drinks dumped on me. But the last straw was Daisy Krasdale. Daisy moved to town junior year. I was excited. Finally, someone who didn’t know me since I was in diapers; someone who didn’t see me as just the garbage man’s son. She actually spoke to me nicely, walked the halls with me, wasn’t embarrassed to call me her friend, sat with me in class, and lunch. I finally had someone on my side.” He smiled, reminiscing. “Until Johnny, my main bully ruined it. I was getting ready to head to the movies with Daisy, it was the first time I’d ever go. No one ever wanted to go with me, and I didn’t have the balls to go alone. I was heading out the door when I found a cassette on my doorstep. It was labeled ‘She’s not coming, loser.’ Something told me to take it upstairs and watch it, so I did. It was a sextape. Johnny and Daisy, in bed together. She was screaming for him, while he kept telling her to ‘forget that loser.’ We can both guess who the loser was. At that point, I had had enough. The only person who made me feel seen. Just ripped away from me by some bully. That was the day I changed my focus.” Yunho moved to the couch, taking a seat. “You can sit, you know.” He said to Sarina.

“Thanks, I’ll stand. Just keep going.” She shifted her weight.

Yunho shrugged. “Okay. Well, that day, I actually went to see the movie. Alone. House Party, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It was-what was the word back then? Bitchin’. So, the next week, I went to school like normal. I didn’t talk to Daisy, no matter how many times she tried apologizing. She claimed it was a moment of weakness. I thought she was full of shit. So, I went to school, went home, then went into the basement and conjured up my own homemade hydrofluoric acid. It’s a very easy recipe, Though I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know the details. I produced gallons of it. Stored it under the stairs until Friday. I stayed in my room until 8pm, feigning a stomachache so my mother would leave me alone. She was a sweet woman, married incredibly too young. Anyways, I waited until she had gone to bed to sneak back out. My dad worked early mornings, so he always slept early. I loaded my concoction into my dad’s truck and made it to my first victim’s house. Ritchie Clark, Johnny’s best friend. Well, more like minion. Did everything he asked. He was in his room, studying. I made my way into his bedroom, shoving a bag over his head. It’s funny how quick the tough guys go soft when defenseless. I dragged him out of his house and into the back of the truck. The next guy was Max Turner, and the way I captured him was vaguely similar, but the best part? Johnny. He had just fucked another girl he wouldn’t call back and taken a shower. I was waiting for him behind his bedroom door when he came back in. I bashed him in the head with a wooden bat, before bagging and loading him up too. To this day, I don’t remember how I got all three of them out of the houses that easily. Perhaps I was too delirious to even realize someone did see me. I drove them out to the docks. No one was ever out there at that time of night, so it was the perfect place. I dragged them all out to the pier, removing their bags. They immediately became furious when they saw who it was. Calling me all sorts of insults and shouting threats, until they saw the ginormous canister I had next to me. I made sure to put my gloves on before splashing Johnny on the foot, his skin sizzling upon contact. He screamed into the night, the pier immediately smelling of human flesh. I’ll spare you the details that weren’t in that article, but yes, I burned them to a crisp, created dozens of lacerations and severings. Then, I disposed of their arms, went home, showered, and got into bed.”

“Yunho, where did you put their arms? No one’s ever found them.” Sarina asked, wanting to run but couldn’t move.

“Really? All that info and that’s your question? Well, does it really matter now? It’s been 30 years. And I haven’t even told you the best part. The next morning, Northampton was in for the shock of their lives when three young bodies were found by the water, burned beyond recognition. They began asking around to see who were the last people the boys hung out with were, trying to create a timeline. Of course, I was never thought of. We weren’t even friends. Until it clicked. Who would want these boys dead more than the kid whose life they made impossible? They did a comparison of the tires of my dad’s truck to the tracks found at the pier and sure enough, they were a match. The police stormed into my room, expecting me to be standing there with an assault rifle or something. I was just having a burger with fries my mom made. They read me my rights, blah blah blah. I didn’t deny it. Didn’t flinch, didn’t cry. I just asked to be able to finish my burger. They didn’t have anything like it where I was going. I was taken to the local precinct awaiting trial, where I was tried as an adult and sentenced to death. I spent the next five years on death row in a maximum-security facility. My case was highly televised, so inmates knew of me and left me alone for the most part. It was the most peace I had felt in my life. They questioned me for years over those damn limbs. Bribing me with the chance to get off of death row if I helped them. Bunch of pigs, all of them. They thought I’d help them after all my reports of assault and harassment fell on silent ears? I told them to go fuck themselves. So, they pushed up my execution date.”

“So, how did you escape?” Sarina asked, her hand still tightly gripping the knife in her bag.

“That’s the thing, Sarina. I didn’t. Two days before my 22nd birthday, I was strapped to a chair, in front of a room full of people. The families of the deceased, my parents, random kids I went to school with, and Daisy. Sweet, friendly, foolish Daisy. She mouthed ‘Why?’ to me as I was executed by lethal injection.”

“Yunho, listen to yourself. You’re crazy. How can you sit there and tell me you were executed when you’re sitting right in front of me?”

“You really don’t get it, do you? What pissed the town off so much wasn’t that I killed those guys. It was the fact I didn’t regret it. Not once did I feel shame or remorse for what I had done. In fact, I was proud of myself. I laughed as I felt the poison infiltrate my veins. I woke up in this really hot place. For a second I thought I dreamt the whole execution and was shipped off to Texas. Until a guy picked me up off the floor, took me to his house, bathed and fed me, and gave me a new name.” Yunho stood up, walking towards Sarina. His eyes glowed purple like his chest, and his veins lit up like a motherboard.

“I’m Deadly Sin Pride, the Fiend of excessive self-confidence.”

“Yunho, I said stay AWAY,” Sarina said, piercing him with the knife in her hand. She lodged it into his left pec.

“Ouch. That would hurt if there was still a heart there.” Yunho pulled the knife out and, just like before, the wound closed up, leaving no mark.

“What the fuck?”

“NOW do you believe me? If I had wanted to kill you, don’t you think I would’ve already done that? Why go to your job, get to know you, invite you to my house, by yourself, for hours? Harming you was never my intention.”

“Then why? Why go through all this trouble?”

Yunho sighed, his eyes softening back into the dark brown Sarina was used to. “I’ve been assigned a mission.”

“To do what?”

To take you back home with me.”

“So, your brother, who’s literally the ruler of hell, sent you back to Earth to get me, bring me back to hell, in order to help the imbalance of the sexes?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Yunho shrugged. After hearing him out, Sarina decided to stay. Despite hearing all he had done, she realized he wasn’t the same guy as before, and that he acted out based on circumstances. She may not agree with it, but she can look past it considering how long it had been, and technically, he paid for his crime.

“But I’d never be able to see my family again.”

“Not to literally play devil’s advocate, but you’re on Earth right now, and you don’t see your family.”

Sarina rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.” She pondered it. “If you complete two conditions, I’ll go.”

“Which are?” Yunho asked.

“The first one,” Sarina said, leaning into him, “You let me dom you.”

“Dom? Like in sex?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, in sex, stupid. You’re so full of yourself, so calm and collected, I wanna see you lose control just once.”

Yunho sighed. Well, if it meant getting his mission completed, he could let her take the reins.

“Okay.”

So this is how Yunho found himself in Sarina’s bed, tied to the headboard, wearing nothing but a blindfold and a cock cage, panting heavily.

Sarina climbed on top of him, kissing him, her kisses leading down to his neck and chest. Yunho groaned as he began to harden, his cock feeling the restraints of the cage.

Sarina climbed up further, her thighs on each side of his face as she lowered herself gently. Yunho’s lips found her clit expertly, devouring her pussy with fervor.

“Mmm, you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this. You underneath me, tied to the bed, with a face full of pussy.” She said, grinding onto his face as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Yunho wanted so badly to reach out and grab her, but she tied him up so well he was unable to budge. He alternated from circling her clit to sliding his tongue deep inside, keeping her on edge. Sarina’s fingers weaved into his hair, tugging slightly, causing Yunho to moan. The closer Sarina got to orgasm, the harder Yunho got and the more restraint was put on his penis.

Sarina’s legs started to twitch, her hips stuttering. “Shit, baby. Stick out your tongue.”

Yunho obeyed, and Sarina bucked her hips against the wet muscle, lost in her arousal. Sarina panted heavily, “Yunho, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my face,” Yunho said, his voice muffled by the current predicament.

Sarina’s eyes bolted shut, her knuckles going pale from gripping the headboard. All her actions halted suddenly, her body spazzing as she gasped loudly. “Oh shit, shit, shit.”

She groaned when Yunho continued sucking, causing her sensitivity.

She slid back down, kissing Yunho again. “You did so well, baby. I think you deserve a reward.” She smiled so mischievously, Yunho pondered if she was the deadly sin in this pairing.

He gasped as she removed the cock cage, his cock springing loose and growing harder sans restraints.

“Shit…” He muttered as he felt Sarina take him into her mouth, the lack of sight only heightening his other senses. Sarina bobbed her head at a steady pace, finding her rhythm. She gripped in her hand what couldn’t fit into her mouth.

She sped up as she heard his groans increase. The room filled with Yunho’s pants and the obscene slurping noises from Sarina. She edged him on until she felt his cock twitch. She released his member with a pop!

“Mmm, Baby, don’t cum yet. We haven’t finished.” She said sweetly. Positioning herself on his cock, she slid down, sighing as he stretched her open. They both moaned as they bottomed out. Once she was adjusted, she bounced up and down, the temperature in her body rising as she neared her next orgasm.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Yunho. I’m gonna cum.”

“Rina. I wanna see you.”

Pausing momentarily, Sarina took off the blindfold. Meeting his gaze, she saw how fucked out he looked, and she could only imagine she looked the same. She decided to untie him too, only to be flipped the minute he was cut loose.

Sarina was now pinned to the bed, her thighs in a tight death grip by Yunho, who was hammering into her mercilessly, his head in the crook of her neck.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. I can tell you’re about to cum. Cum for me, I know you want to.” He said, reaching between their bodies to rub the sensitive bud.

Sarina’s back arched as her mouth fell open, her whole body shaking like a washing machine. Her orgasm triggered Yunho’s, who pulled out just in time to cum onto her stomach. Ropes of white essence painted her stomach like a mosaic. There was silence for a while, both parties catching their breaths.

“You just couldn’t sub the whole time, huh?” Sarina said after a while.

“Shut up, it was long enough.” He said, getting up from the bed. “One condition down. What’s next?”

“You said your mother married young, right? Well if she was as young as you said, she would still be alive. So, the last condition is that you go see your mother, granted we find her.” Sarina said, walking to the bathroom, leaving a very shocked and confused Yunho standing by the bed.

The pair stood outside of Elmhurst Senior Living, with Yunho very much not happy to be there.

“C’mon, let’s go in!” Sarina pressed.

They walked up to the reception desk, greeted by a short, young girl.

“Good Morning! How may I help you?”

“Hi! We’re looking for a resident here, Heeyoung Jeong?”

“Oh yes! Wow, she hasn’t gotten a visitor in years. She’ll be so excited!” The girl beamed. Sarina noticed Yunho wouldn’t look up, feeling guilty for the first time since he ceased being a human.

The girl led them to the elevator, handing them a map of the facility. “Keep in mind, her memory isn’t what it used to be, so it might take her some time to remember you, and don’t be discouraged if she doesn’t! She just hasn’t been the same since Mr. Jeong passed. Make sure to return the map after your stay. Enjoy!”

Sarina thanked the woman as they got on. “What are you thinking?” Sarina asked.

“My father is dead and my mother is all alone. I haven’t seen my dad, so I know he’s most likely in the upper world. Not surprised, he didn’t have a bad bone in his body.”

They arrived at their floor and headed for room 308. A small lady with white hair was sitting in a rocking chair staring out the window.

“Mrs. Jeong?” Sarina said.

The lady turned. “Yes?”

“My name is Sarina, and there’s someone here that wanted to speak to you.” She nudged Yunho.

“Hi mo- Ma’am.” He stuttered. “I was a friend of your son’s, one of the few, and I wanted to say that despite his crimes, he truly did love you. He always thought about you, and what would happen to you when he passed. He would be happy to see you so well treated. I had a few words for his father, but seeing as he’s no longer with us, I’ll just say he wanted him to know he was sorry. For everything. He felt like he failed him, but at the same time couldn’t help what he had done. His only regret was leaving you behind.”

Heeyoung nodded. “And he told you all this, while in cells?”

Yunho nodded. “In the cells, and at lunchtime. We spoke often.”

“Okay, well, thank you for your kind words. I assure you I feel much better after hearing them. Please, come give me a hug, dear.”

Yunho hesitated but eventually embraced the small woman, who whispered into his ear, “I’m old, not stupid. I love you too, son.” She pecked his cheek before pulling away. “Go back to where you came. I’ll be alright here.”

Yunho nodded, whispering “Bye, mom.”

They exited the facility and found themselves in the middle of NC.

“So, what now?” Sarina asked.

“There’s something I have to do first.”

They caught a bus to Northampton and headed for Yunho’s childhood home. It had been foreclosed and boarded up, but it was still standing.

“Come, there’s a back door.”

He and Sarina made it inside the house, which looked just as abandoned as the outside.

“Yunho, why are we here?”

“Downstairs.” He said, heading for the basement.

They make it down the stairs, and Yunho lifts a dusty tarp. Out fell decaying bones.

“They’re still here. I never told the police where they were, and neither did she.”

“A mother’s love knows no bounds?” Sarina shrugged.

Yunho and Sarina stood at the closet back in the NYC condo. Sarina had a small bag with her, while Yunho simply had the file. Yunho looked at her one last time.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go?”

She nodded. “My conditions were met, and like you said, I have nothing really going for me here. Maybe a little hell is just what I need.” She smiled.

“Okay, here we go.” Opening the closet, he pulls the lever he found in there the first day he landed. There was a spark and a portal whirred to life, so strong it caused a great wind.

“Grab my hand, and don’t let go until you feel your feet on the ground!” Yunho shouted.

Sarina nodded, holding his hand tightly. They walked through the portal, immediately descending. When their feet hit the ground, they arrived in Hongjoong’s office. Hongjoong was sitting at his desk, filing paperwork as usual. He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Pride, back so soon?” He asked.

Yunho nodded. “The mission is complete, brother.”

“I see. Hopefully, you weren’t forced or coerced into coming here?”

Sarina shook her head. “I wanted to come. Hoping it’s a fresh start?”

Hongjoong smiled. “Fresh starts are always welcomed here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hongjoong, or who the humans know me as, Dante. Welcome to Inferno. You’ll meet the rest of the Sins later, but right now I’m sure you want to rest. Pride, take her to your room then come back to the office. I will summon the council to advance to the next level of the mission.

“Brothers, see how Pride successfully completed his mission, and Sarina is now one of us. This is how it’s done. Keep in mind, you don’t have to come back in the same time Yunho did. Don’t make this a competition. Every one of these women are different and they all require different approaches. The next stage of the mission is effective immediately.” Hongjoong opened a new file. “Samiyah Harris.” He said, approaching one of the boys. “Greed, you’re up.”

“Good Luck.”

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bangtan-babe · 6 years ago

Text

i met you in the dark. 01

summary: Jungkook was rich and well dressed. The perfect target. But, everything changed once you decided to steal from him. And you’re beginning to find out he’s not exactly who you think he is.

pairing: jungkook/reader

genre: angst/ mystery/ drama/ some humor

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Chapter 1: Gotcha

It was 7pm and crowds of people burst from the subway station entrance. Most days, the mountain of people coming out of the train mimicked an overpowering avalanche. Not only would it knock you off your feet if you weren’t quick enough, but there was also something exhilarating about being in the midst of it. In the sea of brown and black suits, your worn out hoodie and jeans labeled you as an outcast. With your hood up and your head down, you moved swiftly and carefully making sure to avoid any necessary contact. You lifted up your head slightly, moving your gaze away from your feet to find the man with the gold ring. After moving your eyes quickly from one person to the next, you finally spotted him. He was a few feet away from you. A coy smirk escaped from your lips and you increased your pace.

___________________________A few minutes ago_______________________

A small petite woman stood in front of you on the train. She was wearing a black cinched dress with sparkly heels, clearly struggling to maintain her balance on the train. There was no point stealing from her. If she was rich, she would be taking a taxi with that outfit, not the train. Your eyes scanned others, most of whom were sleeping with their heads on their briefcases or awkwardly leaning onto the person next to them. You bit your bottom lip, a sign of hidden frustration as your stop was coming up and you hadn’t found a target yet.

Nope. Samsung Galaxy 6 phone. Nope. Too young. Nope....too broke. You eyed a lady looking intently at her balance book.

As you scanned the train cart, a man standing by the door who was talking on the phone grabbed your attention. There was something about his demeanor that left you perplexed and uneasy. His dark hair and all black outfit fit his stone cold expression perfectly. Suddenly, he turned around. You shot your eyes to the floor, wondering if he had seen your face. But, when you lifted up your head slightly, you realized the man was looking straight ahead toward the connecting cart door. Then you saw it, you saw the gold watch and subtle gold ring glistening off his hand.

Yes. Gocha.

The train was reaching your stop and you prayed he got off as well. As people got up and made their way to the door, he shifted his body towards it as well. You stared straight ahead as the doors of the train opened up.

______________________________Present_________________________________

The man with the gold watch and ring was only a few steps ahead of you now. As you recognized the impending event, your body experienced a rush of anxiety. This always happened and it was usually the hidden paranoia of getting caught that resided in the back of your mind. But like every other time, you brushed it off and moved forward. At this point. you were right behind his impressively broad-shouldered body. Your eyes scanned his black jeans and you noticed the outline of a square object.

You removed your hands from your hoodie, moved next to him, and then pretended to reach the small zipper in your book bag. In an instant, you swiped his watch using your middle and thumb finger to unbuckle the clasp and carefully hide it in your sleeve. With those same two fingers, you removed his wallet stealthy from his back pocket and placed it carefully in your bag. Letting out a sheepish smile you placed your hands inside of your hoodie and walked in front of him.

“Excuse me,” a rough voice echoed behind you. Hearing those two words made your entire body freeze and you stopped dead in your tracks, praying that it was some other man calling you. It took you almost 10 seconds before you turned around. Your eyes glanced over the man’s hand and you immediately recognized the gold ring.

“You dropped this,” he stated placing his hand out which held your mini panda keychain. You bowed your head slightly, unable to say a word and took the keychain with both hands.

While he was giving it to you, he suddenly pulled his hand back. You noticed his gaze remained fixated on your wrist and his eyebrow rose slightly. The first thought that crossed your mind was that he had somehow seen the watch buried in the sleeve of your oversized hoodie. But then you quickly realized that if he had, the police would be here by now. His eyes were still transfixed on your wrist and your irritation level increased tenfold. When you matched his gaze, you realized he was staring at your paper airplane tattoo. Feeling vulnerable that he had seen your tattoo, you jerked your hand back as fast as you could, grabbing your keychain in the process.

“Thanks.” you blurted, before turning on your heels and walking away as fast as you could.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Grandmaaaa,” you called out in a sing-songy voice as you walked into her shop. Like always, you planted yourself all the way in the corner of the restaurant, where the aroma of whatever she was cooking would fill your lungs. In front of you stood eight tables all perfectly arranged in neat rows and columns. The water dispenser and cups were also placed accordingly near the counter. Grandma’s shop was simple, but it suited her personality to a tee. She still hadn’t come out of the kitchen, so you pulled out the watch and wallet. As you examined the wallet and rolled it from one hand to the other, you noticed that it was made of genuine leather and coated with a deep brown color. You opened it slowly, somehow expecting something to jump out, yet nothing did. The inside of the wallet contained credit cards that were useless (unless you were looking to get caught), a couple of business cards of companies that you had never heard of, a disappointing amount of cash, and a typical id.

“Well hello, Jeon Jungkook,” you said reading the name printed on the id. As you stared at his picture, his dark expression pierced straight through the plastic. It was the same look that you had seen on the train. But despite his strong demeanor, a look of sorrow was plastered across his undeniably handsome face. And if anyone knew sorrow, it was you. Most of your life consisted of pretending to be someone you weren’t and fighting a demon that you had no control over. So you had a rather close relationship with that look- the look of someone who was stuck in a pit of darkness.

When you placed the id card back in the slot, your fingers grazed against the bottom of the wallet. There was a small bump that stuck out as the wallet remained open. You took out the cash and stuck your fingers inside of the interior. All of a sudden, you felt something hard with carved edges. When you took the item out, you noticed it was a gold key.

“What the..what’s with him and gold?” you rhetorically questioned aloud. You examined the key a bit before noticing something written on the top.

“STA HK12. J J K E,” was carved in a light, discrete color.

Suddenly, your grandma walked out of the kitchen and you quickly stuffed all of the items in your backpack. She placed a plate of japchae in front of you, then went about cleaning the tables at the front with a rigid expression.

“Where’s my hello?” you teased while slurping your favorite noodles. She lifted her head up from cleaning the tables and had a sorrowful expression while eyeing your bag and face.

“Whaaaat?” you whined childlike, but also clearly recognizing her stare.

“Did you do something bad again?” she asked, her tone both angry and worrisome.

You placed your chopsticks down on the table and digested the noodles in your mouth. She knew you too well. Yet, thankfully not well enough to know that you stole from people.

“Grandma, why would your perfect granddaughter do something bad?” you mentioned with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my granddaughter and you love money.” Her comment didn’t really phase you. Although you weren’t her biological grandchild, you knew that she still cared for you as if you were her own.

You folded your arms across your chest and leaned back on the chair, pretending to be offended. “Okay, I’ll forgive you for saying the first thing,” you began to proclaim wholeheartedly, which made her chuckle as she realized your evident exaggeration.

You continued. “But the second...that hurts me too much. Just because I love money doesn’t mean I do bad things.”

She quickly replied, “It does if you don’t have a job.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Her words were absolutely, without a doubt true, but you weren’t going to let her win this one. You were too competitive for that.

“I do have one,” you lied.

She laughed in disbelief. “Where?”

“Your eyes scanned across the room trying to come up with some sort of excuse. Two seconds went by then five then ten. Suddenly, you saw a flyer on one of the telephone poles outside of the store. It was an ad for a receptionist position at an infamous hotel in Seoul.

“Seoul Park Hotel. Your beautiful granddaughter is a receptionist there,” you proudly boasted.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Hi. I’m applying for the receptionist position,” you smiled as you gave the girl at the front desk your resume.

She looked annoyed and reluctantly glanced at your resume before speaking. “You’re supposed to submit this online.”

“Well that wasn’t written on the flyer,” you replied genuinely confused. You noticed she gave you a slight eye roll before staring you up and down.

“Everyone knows that you’re supposed to submit it online,” she said in a condescending manner handing back your resume. Subtle comments like hers were infuriating. The job process was hard enough, and it didn’t help when people put down others based on stereotypical presumptions. This is why you stuck to pickpocketing rich people.

“Well, clearly not everyone,” you shot back. The girl, whose name tag said Jieun, didn’t respond to your comment. Instead, she looked down at her computer and typed away.

“Great customer service,” you murmured to yourself while making sure it was loud enough for her to hear.

You gathered your belongings and stormed across the seemingly never-ending lobby of the hotel. As you made your way toward the entry, you lifted your head slightly not really paying attention to your surroundings. All of a sudden, from your peripheral you noticed a group of men sitting down at the couches near the entrance. A few steps away from the men stood a guy dressed in all black with a wired earpiece. His back was towards you but the scene was so peculiar that you were now staring at them. Within a few seconds, the guy turned around. Your eyes turned bloodshot when you saw his face. You quickly looked down at his hand to make sure it was him. It was. The gold ring was clear and visible. Jeon Jungkook, the guy you stole from yesterday, was now standing right in front of you. In an instant, you bolted out of the hotel.

“...What the fuck?” you exhaled once you got to the bus stop. “What the fuck.”

#jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jungkook #bts #bts au #bts fic #fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook fluff

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mayve-hems · 6 years ago

Text

Money | a.i.

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: Y/N and Ashton are very in love. But Y/N has a secret she needs to tell Ashton that she keeps putting off. But at the same time, Ashton has a secret for Y/N. How will it all unravel?

Word Count: 7.0k

Note: Not my gif! Thank you to my friend Jo for editing this. I know this took several days to write, but honestly, it would have been here sooner if my family didn’t decide at midnight to send me to another state to pick up my grandfather. I have more coming soon, so just keep an eye out. Also, if you’d like to request something (headcanon/blurb/Oneshot/imagine) then I am open to requests at this time. Don’t hesitate!

Warnings: only cussing :)

~Maeve

He’s hopelessly in love with her. So helplessly in love with her that he can’t imagine a single second without knowing if she’s okay. During concerts, they let each other know that they’re okay through code words, hand gestures, or straight up confirming it during the show. He’d give up his entire livelihood to hand her the keys to the universe. He’ll twirl a drumstick in his right hand seven times if there’s a problem or he’s feeling unsure; she’ll whisper into his earpiece that she loves him if she counts the seven spins. While she’s standing in the wings of the curtains, she’ll motion a broken heart with her hands if she feels something is off inside of her body; he’ll blow her a kiss in return.

One of the few times Michael Wants Another Slice was requested from an entire arena, she got on top of his shoulders as he screamed into the microphone. The boys found humor in a six-foot-tall, My Little Pony lover, singing a death metal song with his blue-haired girlfriend sitting on his shoulders. The crowd? They absolutely ate it up.

“What do you guys think of her?” Ashton asked the crowd the first time Michael Wants Another Slice was requested. The arena screamed in return, calling about how beautiful and perfect they were together. Y/N leaned her face down in front of Ashton’s and gave him a kiss while covering his eyes with her hands. Luke thought the crowd had a panic attack at the peck. She brushed the blue curls from her precious eyes and smiled. “I mean I’m okay with that.” Luke helped her hop down from Ashton’s shoulders and onto the Marley stage. She picked at her ripped black jeans and adjusted her white bustier.

Now, it’s normal for when a crowd greatly desires the beautiful sounds of Michael Wants Another Slice, she sits atop her boyfriends' strong shoulders and rocks out with the band. She’s their only exception; the other boys are more single than a lonely Pringle, standing on stage without a girlfriend waiting for them. Though Ashton jokes that she’s the bands' girlfriend, she still is strictly into Ashton.

The boys play the last note of Michael Wants Another Slice, John Feltmann brushing the drumsticks over the cymbals until the guitar riffs stop. Luke slips his guitar off to Calum and holds his hands out for Y/N’s to grab. She hoists her hips up from Ashton’s shoulders and keeps a strong grip on Luke. Her Converse land on the floor and she picks at her skinny jeans. Mostly the thigh area- where she’s most insecure.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Ashton asks the crowd. Cheers and chants reply back, every syllable of her name lining up with a clap. “I know right?” Ashton giggles. Before long, Y/N won’t be able to sit atop his shoulders and laugh while he sings. She won’t tell him that until she’s ready though. “I love you, Y/N!”

The beautiful girl laughed, grabbing onto the hand that wasn’t holding a microphone. “You’re a dork.”

“Fun fact,” Ashton spat through the speakers. “Y/N can’t sing!”

“You’re a liar!”

“I am not!”

“Give me that damn thing,” Y/N grabbed the microphone from her sweaty boyfriend and wrapped both hands around the base. Putting it close to her lips, she cleared her throat. She horribly sang Money until the chorus when the boys couldn’t contain their giggles. Michael tried to play his guitar but his fingers kept skipping frets until he whined to get the microphone away from her plump lips. “I am a great singer, right?”

The crowd cheers a lie that made her smile.

“I love you with all my heart, baby girl,” said Ashton. “But you sound like a dying pig!”

Y/N turned her head towards his for a kiss. “And you sound like a kangaroo.”

The kissed, the crowd cheered even more, and Y/N exited the stage.

“How’d I do?” Ashton asked his girlfriend, handing her a cup of alcohol. She smiled, pretended to take a sip, and rolled her eyes. “Was it good?”

“It was great,” She replied. “As always.”

Ashton wrapped his arms around his girlfriend in a bear hug. His nose dug into the strands of blue hair on her neck and inhaled the scent of vanilla- his favorite. It’s a type of relaxation; the smell of vanilla always present on her skin. His brain associates the light scent with affection and adoration; blue hair and tight skinny jeans; dewy mornings and laying in a warm bed; sarcastic comments and lighting-type kisses. The scent of her skin and hair whisper into his ears that he is safe and shouldn’t be scared of anything.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know?”

“I know.” Y/N rolls her eyes again. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton shrugs, continuing to hug his girlfriend from behind. Y/N doesn’t mind bear hugs from her kangaroo significant other; they’re her favorite part of the day. Besides when they fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with a single blanket over them both; their legs tangled into a mess of bare skin, with Ashton’s hands riding up the back of the shirt she stole from him. “Have you eaten anything for dinner?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I’m not that hungry.”

“What’d you have for lunch?”

She describes her favorite meal to him; a delicious tray of food laid with everything she’d give her life for . . . besides Ashton. Ashton nods, listening to her talk about food like it’s her entire life. “It was good.”

“Sounds like it,” Ashton hugs her even tighter. She feels like she’s going to explode. “We oughta’ get you some food though. What do you want?” Y/N repeats that she’s not starving, but Ashton refuses to take that as an answer. “We can go get something from the store if you’d like.”

“I’m not hungry, Ash,” She whispers. She’s starving, but she doesn’t want to interrupt the after-party with One Direction for something to eat. Once they get back to the proper hotel room, they’ll change from performance clothing into comfortable attire and have a late-night run to some hole-in-the-wall food joint with greasy food and caffeine-loaded sodas. “Are you?”

“I always am,” Ashton laughs. “Are you really sure though?”

Y/N gives in. “We still have to go back and-”

“Who cares?”

“Cal-”

“They’re having their own fun and whatever,” Ashton points at Luke and Michael arguing over a game of Fifa. “See,” Luke is growing angrier at Michael. “They’re content with their own lives. Let’s go get something to eat.”

They stop at Ashton’s hotel room before leaving the building. Ashton strips down and up into a pair of jeans and one of his favorite shirts -one that Y/N hasn’t stolen yet. Y/N just changes into clothes she’ll fall asleep in later; Ashton’s grey sweatpants and her most recently stolen shirt. Ashton laughs when the clothes engulf her.

“You’re a little Ashton,” He takes her hands in his and twirls her around a little bit. “What would you like to eat, my love?”

“I want pancakes!” Y/N squeals. She shoves her hands into the pockets of the sweatpants, where her phone, wallet, and keys are. The pad of the girls’ thumb brushes the textured keychain. “With maple syrup.”

“You hate both of those!” Ashton chuckles. Every time Ashton and Y/N have tried pancakes with maple syrup, she takes a few bites before handing it off to Ashton because the taste repulses her. She ends up ordering crepes or egg whites and devouring them like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. “You aren’t going to eat them, baby girl.”

“Give me one more chance,” Y/N begs. All she’s wanted for the past two weeks has been pancakes with maple syrup soaking through the fluffy carbs and pooling near the edges of the plate. “Please? Pancakes?”

Ashton sighs. “Fine,”

When it comes to early-morning interviews or meetings, Ashton normally lets Y/N sleep in until her heart is content and rested. He usually returns before she’s escaped the comfort of their shared bed, however. He’s not surprised when he returns to Y/N dead asleep, face stuffed into the hard pillow, and snoring away when he arrived back at hotel room 304. Luke runs into the room and jumps onto his bed in an attempt at resting even more, but bounces once on the mattress and lands against the wall.

Y/N jumps up at the loud noise, disregarding her lack of pants. “What’s going on?” She screams at Luke while he rubs his pain-filled arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Luke snaps. He hoists himself onto the mattress again and tosses his blanket over his body. He doesn’t change from interview clothes. “Goodnight!”

Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs Ashton’s sweatpants from the floor. She pulls the grey trousers up her legs and ties the waistband to her approximate size. Her boyfriend watches in admiration, not realizing that they sweatpants are tied a little looser than they normally were. “How was the interview?” Y/N yawns and rubs her face. Tired still flushes through her system.

“Good, it went well,” Ashton confirms. “We have rehearsal in two hours, Luke!”

“Shut up!” Luke calls to his bandmate. His head is pounding from this mornings hangover.

Ashton grabs Y/N’s suitcase from the floor and opens it for her. She shoves her red makeup bag underneath her arm, along with a freshly washed outfit. While the boys are off doing their own thing, Y/N sometimes stays back to wash clothes and blankets with Liz. It’s their attempt to make the tour bus and hotel rooms smell less like a musky boy. Half of the time it doesn’t help, so they douse tour bunks and couches with Febreze.

“You feeling okay, baby girl?” Ashton asks. He notices her slow movements and fatigued body. She’s gained a little bit of weight, but Ashton doesn’t notice the extra pudge on her belly. She looks healthy and beautiful in his eyes, so why would he care? Y/N nods her head. The pads of Ashton’s fingers tug her hair from her face so he can see her correctly. Her face is pale and tired, even though she slept for at least eight hours. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead; she’s warm like a sick child. “Want me to get Liz to take you to a doctor?”

“No, I’m just tired,” Y/N shrugs off.

“You’re sick, baby girl,” Ashton kisses her forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see a doctor?”

“Yeah,” Y/N whispers. “I’m okay. Just worn out.”

Ashton nods and moves out of Y/N pathway. She barely turns the shower on before she’s throwing up pancakes. Her throat burns from her stomach acidity. Somehow, Ashton and Luke don’t hear Y/N almost dying in the bathroom of the suite. Y/N strips down to her naked body and sits at the bottom of the bathtub for a while.

She has to tell Ashton at some point, but she can’t bring herself to do it. He has to know what’s going on! Calum has been privy to some of Y/N situation after he accidentally walked into the tour bus bathroom, where Y/N was throwing up her guts. She made him promise that he wouldn’t dare speak a word to her boyfriend, though. Calum has kept the promise, even though he’s still slightly confused about the entire circumstance.

“Babe,” Ashton whispers, distracting Y/N from her staring-at-the-water episode at the bottom of a porcelain tub. The scent of vanilla fills his nostrils like smoke. “I’m going to go with Cal and Mikey to the arena. Are you okay here with Luke?”

“Yeah,” Y/N lies. She doesn’t want Ashton to leave her with Luke. She has nothing against the youngest band member, she just wants to be in the presence of her boyfriend. Her hands trace the hickeys biting at her thighs. That’s why she wears jeans all the time. “I’ll text you in a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ashton closes the bathroom door and lets Y/N continue -or rather, start- her shower.

Her eyes open.

“When are you going to tell Ash?” Luke questions, scrolling through his phone. The tweets are showing up over and over again about Y/N and Ashton. He loves them two as a couple, but dear God, he’s tired of the tweets. Y/N is like Luke’s big sister- one that’ll protect him from the scary monsters and separation anxiety, even though his mom is on tour with them. He’s ready to beat up all the haters and assholes.

“What?” Y/N tries to sit up from her uncomfortable hospital bed, but she doesn’t have enough strength. Luke puts his phone face down on the blue seat next to him so he can help her. She sits up and grimaces towards her IV. “What’s going on?”

“Ashton’s just about here, so think some shit up,”

“What?” Y/N asks again. She’s wearing the clothes she picked out before her shower. “What happened?”

“You were walking out of the bathroom and you fainted,” Luke answers. Y/N notices how her jeans won’t button, so she tries to fix it. The button won't fit through the hole without squeezing her belly uncomfortably. “When are you going to tell Ashton?”

Y/N stares at her belly. Ashton’s Metallica shirt is rolled up above the unsolvable button. She shoves the cloth down to cover the metal. Ashton can’t know. “Eventually.”

“Why not now?”

“Because,” Y/N sighs. “It’s not noticeable.” She lets her head fall back to the pillow. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You were dehydrated,” Luke points to the IV bag. “And you’re-”

“Shut up!” Y/N screams.

She’s discharged from the hospital before Ashton arrives. She hides pictures in her purse and the unbuttoned-button underneath Ashton’s shirt. When he sees her, Ashton pulls her close, brushing blue hair from her face. She cries into Ashton’s chest, feeling hopeless and weak.

“Are you okay?” Ashton questions, pressing his hand to her forehead. She’s cooled off a little bit. “What happened? Y/N are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N grabs Ashton’s hands. Her fingers are tiny against his. “Just dehydrated and stuff. Shouldn’t you be in rehearsal?”

“They pushed it back an hour,” Ashton replies. He’s shaking. The eldest member of 5 Seconds Of Summer doesn't want to let his girlfriend out of his sight again. But he knows he has to. “You’re not going on stage at all tonight. I mean it.” Y/N giggles a little bit. “I’m serious. You’re going to sit in my dressing room and you’re going to drink so much water that you pee every five minutes!”

“Ashton you’re being excessive,” Y/N laughs. She’s still feeling weak. “What’d you have for lunch, babe?”

Ashton thinks for a moment. “Um . . . nothing?”

“Same. Let’s get something to eat real quick.”

Luke trails behind them, pissed that Y/N isn’t going to tell Ashton anything besides ‘I was dehydrated’.

He skipped the after-party. He tucked himself in a cramped bunk, wrapping his arms around Y/N as she sleeps soundlessly against the tour bus wall. He’d rather she fell asleep on the couch or in his bunk -where there’s more room- but he didn’t bother trying to get her to move. She was asleep; she needed sleep. His legs tangle with hers under her great grandmother's handmade quilt, and even though she was sound asleep, she still shuffled towards her boyfriend for warmth and comfort.

Ashton’s fingers ran through her blue hair, calming the both of them. She rarely sleeps in her own bunk, as a result of Ashton’s being roomier than hers. Even though the bunks are the exact same size, his still seems bigger than hers. The mattress is missing the trademark scent of vanilla with undertones of his cologne. It’s uncomfortable for him. He stays, though.

They both dozed off for a while, with the tour bus lights still on. They wake up to pitch black and the snores of Michael Clifford. Y/N just settles her fingers between Ashton’s and stare at the top of the bunk for a little while. She’s thinking; overthinking.

How is she going to tell Ashton? More importantly, how is she going to manage everything? Money- she has to get some of that so she can live. However, Ashton stars a small hum to calm her racing heart, and she’s not stressing about it as much. Y/N’ll figure it out somehow, even if Ashton abandons her. She’d rather have Ashton with her through everything, but she knows it’s not possible.

“What are you thinking about?” Ashton whispers. He’s scared of waking the boys from their sleep, but he’s loud enough for Y/N to hear. That’s all he really cares about. He wants to speak to Y/N. Both of their internal clocks are screaming that it’s probably around four or five in the morning. They have an entire day on the bus, so who really cares about the time?

Y/N thinks up something quickly. “Would you rather be hurt by the one you trust the most or the one you love the most?”

Ashton gives her a low laugh. One that channels his morning voice with raspy undertones and deep giggles. Y/N loves the sound of Ashton’s morning voice. “That’s deep.” Ashton answers. “I’m not sure. It’s the same person.” Ashton pulls Y/N so close to his body, the only thing in between her shirt and his bare chest is one of her arms that’s playing with a damp curl in front of his eyes. Her other arm is going numb underneath the pillow beneath their heads. “What about you?”

Y/N continues to twirl the coiled blonde lock around her finger. “Same answer.” Ashton’s hands fall underneath Y/N’s shirt, right above the hem of her dinosaur underwear. To her, it feels like electricity coursing through her veins, but to him, it’s an absent-minded habit. She’s usually on the brink of sleep when his hands take their place underneath the back of her shirt. Y/N leans her head up for a small peck from Ashton. His lips grazed over hers once, twice, and a third time when she finally tucks her forehead into his neck. Her hand finds its way to the back of Ashton’s hair. “What’s your opinion of me?”

“You’re an amazing person, and I wouldn’t give you up for the world.” Ashton answers.

“Not that,” Y/N whispers. Ashton’s ears have to try their hardest to hear her speak. “Do you actually . . . do you actually like-”

“-Do I actually love you?”

“ . . . Yeah,”

“Y/N,” Ashton murmurs. His hands remove themselves from her back to pull her from his neck. He brushes past her cheekbones, feeling damp trails of tears that ended on the collar of her shirt. He wipes the pathways of emotion and kisses her once. “I would do anything for you. I would give up all of my fame, my talent, my whole life for you.”

“You’re just taking it too far now,” there’s no type of hilarity or joking in Y/N’s voice. Just pain and raw feelings that she wishes never started. She knows Ashton loves her- but is she really sure?

“No, I’m not,” Ashton pulls the small girl close to him again. “You’re all I think about, all the time. You’re all I ever wanted in life. Every time I sit down behind a drum kit, I imagine you cheering me on and joking around. Whenever I sing, I think of how excited you get on top of my shoulders while I scream a stupid song about pizza. You’re the stars to my galaxy- the Michael to my pizza. Luke told me he wasn’t even sure I had dimples until I met you. I love you so much.”

“No, you don’t,” Y/N forces. Her throat starts to tighten like a barbwire fence is strangling her. She wants to believe everything Ashton’s telling her, but her mind won't allow it. “The fans-”

“-Are jealous! They’re jealous of you because you’re friends with three of the most precious people in the world, and you’re dating somebody famous. People get jealous, it’s normal. They’re taking it out on you in a terrible way, and I wish they’d stop,”

“But what if it’s true?”

“It’s not.”

“What if I’m bad for you?”

“You’re not bad for me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“If you were bad for me, then I wouldn’t have fallen in love-”

“-You didn’t fall in love with me.”

“You’re right,” Ashton clears his throat. “You fucking tripped me with your damn Converse, and deep eyes, and bright blue hair, and the most beautiful body I have ever seen.” Y/N tries to coil her body up to hide a sob. “How about we go watch a movie? The Nightmare Before Christmas? You love that movie.”

Y/N shrugs. “You don’t want to.”

“Yes, I do!”

Y/N shakes her head.

“There’s some Cheez-Its and chips in the cabinet. I’m pretty sure we also have coffee, and Peace Tea, and . . . there are some Naked smoothies.” Ashton just wants to distract Y/N’s mind from racing. He’ll do anything to make her feel better.

“I’m gaining weight.”

“And?”

“My jeans don’t fit anymore.”

“We’ll go to the mall when we stop for dinner.” Y/N doesn’t reply. “So . . . The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Everybody woke up a few hours later to Ashton and Y/N laying on the couch with a blanket engulfing their sleeping bodies. Y/N, laying on top of Ashton, her head laying underneath his chin, still was stressing in her sleep.

“Baby Girl,” Ashton whispers, brushing Y/N’s hair from her face. Michael and Luke stir from their sleep on the round couch, underneath Y/N’s long body. Ashton couldn’t sleep after sleeping for several hours during the day, but Y/N just wanted to rest more than she could imagine, which happened to be on top of three boys at once. Her head rests mostly in Ashton’s lap, but she still sprawled herself along over Ashton’s bandmates. “Wake up.”

“No,” Y/N whispers. Her hands shield her eyes from the setting sky glowing behind her. “I want more sleep.” Her body coils in a little bit more, gathering the blanket along her bare legs. Though, she’s uncomfortable, so she tries to stretch her body. “Uncomfortable.”

“You’ve slept for almost twenty-four hours,”

“Then let me sleep for twenty-five.” She tries to close her eyes, but her body responds by shoving adrenaline through her veins. Before she can try to fall back into a peaceful, and uncomfortable state of slumber, she wants to get up and have fun. Run everywhere; eat food; watch TV. “Where are we?”

“Cali,”

“Why did you wake me up?”

Ashton shrugs. He stares at the TV, dodging her question. Unknowingly to each other, they’re planning a surprise for the other in the next twenty-four hours. Liz knows both surprises and has vowed to keep both of them a secret from everyone; Luke and Calum know minor details about Y/N’s surprise, and Calum and Michael know privy details to Ashton’s. Somehow, with that formula, the secrets are kept. “I’m hungry, and you’re on me.”

Y/N sits up. She looks where her legs are laying- where Luke and Michael are curled up together, asleep. “Where’s Calum?”

“No clue,” Ashton stretches his body. The oldest band member feels like he hasn’t moved from that exact spot in forever. He’s had to pee for the last hour, but he knew how worn out Y/N was. He suffered through a full bladder for the girl he loves. Jesus Christ, he’s so in love with the blue-haired beauty. The one with such a precious skin tone and complexion he swears she’s one-in-seven-billion; the one with glassy eyes that’ll shatter at the wrong word, but cut a bitch at the right; the one with such a perfect body he doesn’t know how she’s real. “You still want to stop at the mall and get some clothes?”

“Sure,” Y/N shrugs. She’s trying to play it down, but in all seriousness, she needs to go to the small. Liz and Y/N have Y/N’s surprise planned out. Liz will get the things, and Y/N will pay her back. “How long until we’re in the city?”

“Not long,” Ashton looks back at the blank interstate. “Probably long enough to get ready and shit.”

“I have an idea that we should do,” Y/N blatantly says, blurting out what she had been thinking about for the last few hours. She explains how all six of them should get shirts with their last names printed on the back, with their birth year right underneath. As a jersey, Y/N described to Ashton.

Ashton nods, pretending that Y/N hadn’t told him about that when she woke up earlier. He made plans with Liz to alter something small in Y/N’s plan. “So I’d be Irwin 94?”

“Yeah.” Y/N agrees. Ashton’s girlfriend tells him how her shirt would be, and he admires her speaking about her birth year and last name on a shirt. “We could wear it to the show tomorrow and take photos.” Ashton nods. “You guys already told the fans that you’d dress up for Halloween, so you could go as yourselves.”

“Or we could go as each other.”

“You could go as a drummer!”

“You could be the drummers' girlfriend.”

Y/N giggles. “I’m not going on stage. Dehydration, remember?”

Ashton waves his hand. “Whatever, freak.” Y/N gives her boyfriend a quick peck on the lips. His lips are soft against hers, but his calloused hands feel rough along her jawline. “Drink water. You’ll be fine.”

The tour bus docked in a Santa Cruz hotel as the sun landed on the other side of the world. Ashton carried his sleepy girlfriend from the bunks to the room that Michael elected to share with them. Every time they’re in a hotel, the boys decide who are sharing a room with who. Ashton pays Michael ten dollars to carry Y/N and his bags to the room. He set Y/N down on the uncomfortable bed and flicked the lights on.

“No!” Y/N yelled, stirring from yet again another nap. At this point, she isn’t going to sleep a wink the entire night. That’s probably a good thing. “Sleep, baby!”

“Are you hungry?” Ashton asked, checking the whole room. When you first walk in there’s a closet on the left and a kitchenette on the right. He walked from the closet towards the TV and pull-out couch where Michael discarded most of the bags. Along the side of the couch was a hallway leading to a secluded room with two beds, with a stop to the bathroom along the right side of the hallway.

“Very,” Y/N struggled to say through the muffling of her pillow. “What’s for dinner?”

“The boys and I had an idea to go to the boardwalk!” Ashton called, continuing to inspect the place. “We could all get dressed up and go or something.”

“I am not dressing up to go to the boardwalk!”

Michael laughed at Ashton’s sigh. This is his plan- to get his girlfriend to the Santa Cruz beach, and there he’ll give her the -second- biggest surprise of her life. It’s a scavenger hunt type of deal, but without the long hunt for different clues. He’ll ditch her after dinner with one of the boys, and give her little hints to get her around the boardwalk and away from the beach. Then, he’ll have Calum give Y/N the last clue that’ll lead her the Ashton. “Please?” Ashton whined.

“No!” Y/N yawned. “I want to sleep!”

“I’m going to go find Luke,” Michael quickly said before disappearing out of the hotel room. Ashton rolled his eyes.

“Please?”

“No!”

“I’ll buy you a smoothie!”

“No!”

Ashton started his trek to the bedroom. Y/N was absolutely precious with her head buried in the pillow, and a large bun on the crown of her skull. She doesn’t have to dress up in a toga with lengthy curls. Ashton just wants her in something that’s not a raggedy grey shirt and volleyball shorts. “Please, baby girl?”

“I want to go to sleep!”

The mattress dipped down when Ashton sat right next to her. “Please? We could go get your favorite food, and then ride some rides.” Ashton brushed a stray hair from Y/N’s neck. “You could shower beforehand, and then get some comfy clothes on, then get some food. We don’t have to be out for that long.”

“I’m not riding a rollercoaster.” Y/N replied. Ashton smiled, knowing that he’s getting his way.

Y/N took a short shower, dried her hair, and put minimal makeup on before dragging Ashton from the hotel room. She sat in the back of the car, next to Ashton, energized after having a long nap. Surprisingly, Y/N can fit into Luke’s skinny jeans. Don’t ask how they figured that out.

They ate a somewhat-decent dinner at their favorite restaurant, then walked around the nearest mall to burn the abnormal amount of calories they had all consumed. Liz picked up the shirt order Y/N and the boys called in. Y/N bought herself a pair of jeans and jean shorts that fit her body correctly and changed into them as quickly as she could. Ashton couldn’t stop drooling over the sight of Y/N in a pair of pale jean shorts and a form-fitting off-the-shoulder top that revealed more of her belly than it covered. How could anybody resist the absolute perfection named Y/N?

“Where’s Ash?” Y/N asked, stepping into the remaining 5 Seconds Of Summer boys conversation. She turned away for a bottle of water, and when she was back, Ashton had already walked away. She didn’t know that he had a plan in place.

“Doing something,” Luke snapped. His eyes narrowed at Y/N. Ashton recommended that Luke be a little bit harsh and now let Y/N suspect what Ashton had been doing, but Luke disregarded adding grim into his tone, as he was already pissed about Y/N not telling Ashton her own secret. “Here.” Luke shoved a card-sized envelope to Y/N. “He has a stupid surprise. We’re supposed to help.”

Y/N grabbed the envelope and opened it up carefully. Inside was twenty-dollars and a note. ‘What was Calum in the Hey Everybody video? -A’

“Easy,” Y/N laughed. She snorted a little bit. “He was a dog walker.”

“Then that’s where we go,” Calum shrugged. “Wait are we getting a dog? Please tell me we’re getting a dog!”

“Yeah, Cal,” Michael patted his younger friend on the back. “We’re not getting a dog.”

The walk to the nearest animal store was short, as Ashton had planned. Y/N almost had a heart attack when she was overpowered with kisses and sniffs coming from puppies as she continued to walk. From the animal store, you could see the beach laid out perfectly. Luke distracted Y/N before she’d notice what Ashton was formulating.

“Look!” Luke pointed to a bulldog-terrier puppy laying on top of a pillow. “I’m going to get a dog one day. Cutest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N giggled and reached into the cage to pet the pup. The puppy reacted immediately, perking up at her soft touch. Licking and nibbling on her fingers, the puppy bonded with Ashton’s girlfriend perfectly. Though, they’re not allowed to have dogs on tour. Y/N noticed another envelope tucked near the cage. “Is that one?” Michael nodded and reached down to grab it. He handed it to Y/N who took almost no time at all to rip it open. “We may not have printed our hands in the pavement, but we painted our hands on each other.” Y/N read aloud. “Where we did the photoshoot with handprints. That was . . . “ Y/N tried to recall a few years earlier when she and the boys attacked each other with blue and pink handprints on the Santa Cruz boardwalk. “. . . I don’t remember.”

“That was near the rides, right?” Michael asked. Y/N nodded, remembering the face painting booth behind the photographer. “Does he keep giving you money?” Y/n nodded and pocketed another twenty.

Michael, Calum, and Luke followed Y/N to where she tried to recall having the photoshoot. The exact location photos had been taken. Her hands absentmindedly covered her small belly.

“When are you going to tell him?” Luke poked. He gave the other boys a look that told them not to question anything.

“Soon.” Y/N bit. She didn’t want to tell Ashton anything about it, but she knew she had to before she fainted once more. Since then, Ashton has been practically forcing her to drink a cup of water every hour. She can’t get away with dehydration again. “Wasn’t it here?” Y/N looked around for another package. She spotted the white envelope sticking in between boards. She tore it open again, depositing trash in Luke’s hands. Without thinking, the twenty went into her pocket again. ‘They cut through the sky like angels can fly-A’, Y/N read. “What the hell airport is around here?”

“What?” Luke asked. He took the card from Y/N to read it. “Isn’t there a model shop around here? They have like trains and airplanes and shit?”

Michael pulled the boardwalk map from his back pocket. “Yeah, just around the corner.” His finger pressed the map in place of an airplane.

Y/N lead them there, not even walking inside before noticing the envelope sitting in the grass. She went through the same routine of ripping it open and depositing the cash. “All it says is ‘one foot in the golden life, one foot in the’ blank. What the fuck?”

“The gutter, idiot,” said Luke. He snapped her attention towards a gutter just inches away, with a folded envelope spewing out of it. He grabbed the trash from that envelope also.

‘Nice one, right? Now I’m lost in the ___ of your sorry eyes-A’

“Let’s go to the beach, boys!” Y/N announced. She went in the direction of an empty part of the beach, trying to spot another envelope.

Sand fell into Converse and salt was already nipping in their skin and hair. She had to find that envelope, though. Even if she didn’t want to come out originally, she was enjoying the fun game from her boyfriend. Y/N forced the boys to help search the sand with her for a single envelope. It was like finding a needle in a haystack . . . until Calum pulled it from his jacket pocket.

“Sorry, dear,” Calum laughed. He handed her the envelope and she began the routine again.

‘Making all of our plans in the Santa Cruz sand that night-A’

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N complained. She ran a hand through her dry hair to push the artificial curls from her face. She had to think. What the hell does this mean?

“No, it doesn’t,” A voice spoke up. She turned around to her smiling soon-to-be-more boyfriend. “Why don’t we make plans in the Santa Cruz sand tonight?”

“What?”

Ashton got on one knee, pulling a black velvet box from his closed fist. The box opened to the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen; a silver band with a single diamond in the middle of a small rose. On the right side of the rose, sitting on the band, was Y/N’s birthstone, and on the left side of the rose was Ashton’s. “I’ve loved you since the day I met you. You’re everything to me, and I would give up my whole life for you. I’m wrapped so far around your finger, that we’re making plans in the Santa Cruz sand.” Luke face-palmed when Ashton referenced their song. “Will you marry me?”

As Y/N picked up the ring and slid it onto her finger, Liz Hemmings snapped a photo of the smiling, blue-haired girl.

“Mrs. Ashton Irwin, huh?” Ashton asks, hugging Y/N from behind. He places his hands on her growing belly and nuzzles his head into her neck. Their shirts match; Irwin wrote on the back, right above their birth years like a jersey. Liz, the boys, and Y/N are all wearing their black shirts with their last names and birth years, with their choice of pants. Ashton drools when he sees how tight Y/N’s high waisted, dark wash jeans are on her ass. “I like the ring- of the name and the actual ring.”

“Uh hu,” Y/N confirms, admiring the sparkly rock on her finger. She glances at Ashton in the dressing room mirror, feeling a bit scared of the show- or rather what she’s planning on doing during the show. “Your bandana is crooked.”

“Huh?” Ashton looked in the mirror. Y/N smiles when he realizes that his bandana isn’t crooked, and she’s lying. “You’re a dork.” He nuzzled himself into her neck again. Their bandanas are the same; white and tied over their curls. Y/N chose some stray hairs that wouldn’t be pulled back behind the bandana, and tied it underneath her mess of curls; she helped Ashton perfect he's just like hers. Couple goals, right?

“Are you nervous?” Y/N studies her engagement ring again. There are two other spots for stones, and Y/N wonders if Ashton realizes that. Maybe she could add their children’s birthstones to the ring and make it better than it was before.

“Little bit,” Ashton chuckles. “Are you?”

“Nope,” Y/N lies. They both know she’s fibbing; she can feel her heartbeat in her ears, ringing louder than Ashton’s drums. Ashton can feel her heartbeat every place that his skin is touching. Except, Ashton doesn’t know what she’s freaking out about. It’s just another show, and if she doesn’t want to be on stage then she can just say so. “You only have a few more minutes.”

“I know.”

“Don’t you think you should head backstage?”

Ashton shakes his head, not moving his feet any closer to the stage. “I just want to stay here for a few more minutes.”

“Baby, you know that you can’t.” Y/N lays her hands over Ashton’s. “You have fans that you love and want to impress.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ashton takes a deep breath and lets go of Y/N. “Do you still want to go on stage?” Y/N nods. “Michael Wants Another Slice?” She nods again. Ashton gives her a quick kiss and begins his journey to the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Y/N watches the show from the wings, right beside Liz. Liz tries to make small talk with the shaking girl, but Y/N gives only short, sporadic answers that don’t contribute to anything. Every few minutes, she checks to make sure the piece of fabric in her back pocket is still there; Y/N worries constantly that it will fall out and she’ll lose it. Ashton notices that Y/N is more nervous than normal, so he tries to ask if she’s okay with his seven drumstick twirls. She whispers into the earpiece that she loves him, and makes a heart with her hands. Y/N doesn’t break the heart like she wants to.

“And here we go!” Michael screams into the microphone. “We’ve got someone to introduce to you!”

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Liz says into Y/N’s ear, giving her a quick hug. Y/N hasn’t been with her mom in a while, and feeling a hug from Liz makes tears begin to form in Y/N’s tear ducts. Y/N pulls away quickly and wipes her eyes. “I promise. It will be okay.” Liz’s thumbs brush the eyeliner Y/N missed. Y/N struggles not to crumble under the feeling. “Now go out there, and be Y/N.” Y/N nods.

“Welcome to the stage” Michael screams. “Future Mrs. Irwin!”

The crowd screams and Y/N walked onto the stage. She pretends to shy away from the crowd a little bit before jumping and turning at once. The crowd screams at IRWIN printed across her back in bold white letters. The mic tucked into her hand makes its way to her mouth. “What is up, my dudes?”

The crowd screamed.

“So I guess we all know what song is next, right?” Ashton says into his microphone. John Feltmann walks onto the stage, yearning for Ashton’s position at the drums. Ashton takes the chance and pops up from his drum kit and runs his way, sassily, to his fiance. Y/N smiles in a haze when Ashton wraps a sweaty arm around her. “So we got Miss Y/N Irwin right here. What do you guys think?”

The crowd screams incoherent responses.

“So, Michael Wants Another Slice, right?” Ashton asks.

Luke looks at Y/N and she knows what he wants. That’s the moment Y/N needs to speak up. Though, she’s suffocating. Nothing feels correct; everything is spinning around her. More than anything, she wants to curl up into a ball and die right on the spot. She wants Ashton to forget her, along with the boys, and everyone that’s ever met her. Luke plays a few notes from Michael Wants Another Slice and stares at her.

Speak, Y/N speak!

“Actually,” Y/N chokes out. “I have a surprise for Ashton!”

Ashton leans into the mic. “Really? Are you proposing to me?”

Y/N giggles, grabbing the cloth from her back pocket. “No, baby, but you wish,” With severely shaking hands, she unravels a black onesie with ‘BABY IRWIN’ and the estimated due date printed on the back. She shields Ashton from it, showing it to the crowd first. They take it all in; all you can hear from the crowd is a gasp. “I wasn’t that dehydrated, Ash,” She turns to her boyfriend, ready to cry. “But are a dad.”

Request here

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lichen-punk · 6 years ago

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guilty conscious (conscience), earphones, coat? these are all ones i'm like actually quite curious about

these are out of order cause the first one got kinda heavy so i moved it so i could put it under a break lol

earphones: what song have you been listening to on loop recently?

recently its been all abt queer as in fuck you by dog park dissidents and girl loves me by david bowie which together paint a great portrait of a v specific emotional state

coat: what do you keep in your pockets?

pants pockets? jack shit lol my pants run Way too skinny for anything except sometimes my phone in the back right. but my usual shit, in my jacket in cooler parts of the year and in my sorta purse/backpack thingie in the warmer parts, consists of:

wallet (cash, id, bus pass, library card, some other cards n shit)

keyring (literally just my house key and a dragon shaped keychain from my partner)

lighter

pocketknife

gum

pen

gloves and handwarmer in the winter

deck of cards

one of those reusable glass straws cause i care abt the environment but also like to sipp (in a case, im not an animal)

earbuds

emergency phone charger doodad (purse only, too big for jacket)

and atm theres also a Sneaky Crop Top in my purse/backpack thingie that lives there for the foreseeable future for closeted trans reasons

guilty conscience: write an unsent apology to someone.

yikes dawg ok downer incoming ig

to an old friend i hope is not yet an ex-friend:

i’m sorry we grew apart when you moved away. you were more important to me than i ever acknowledged when given the chance, and i’m sorry i was too immature when you were in my life to approach our friendship with any honesty or vulnerability. it was in retrospect clearly as dark a time in your life as it was in mine, and i’m sorry i wasn’t able to support you in your struggles or be open with you about my own. i know from facebook and from mutual friends that since you moved you’ve discovered a lot about who you really are. well i’ve learned some similar things about myself, and i’m sorry that these truer versions of ourselves have never really met. i think we’d have been real good friends had we had the chance, and i’m sorry in my part in keeping that from happening. when i finally get up to oregon, i’m gonna look you up. maybe we can like get coffee or something. i miss you

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winchester-with-wings · 7 years ago

Text

Late Night Chivalry

Peter Parker x Reader

🕷🕸 Anon Commissioned on May 15th : A fluff Peter ParkerxReader 1.5k words. Sumthin like Peter and you been really good friends (you know his secret) and he ends up savin you from gettin mugged as you’re walkin home from hangin out with him earlier that night and he comforts you cuz of how scared you were and just him bein the little sweetie pie he normally is. Take as much liberty as you want, I just want sweet and savory feelins after intense action. I’ll donate on kofi, knows it’s me from the signature -🕷🕸

Word Count: 2400ish. Anon paid for only 1.5k but the story wanted to be longer :) That’s on me and I’m happy with the result :)

Trigger Warning: harassment, potential assault, mugging, language

Mobile Masterlist / Ko-Fi (anything helps to pay the bills <3)

Wanna commission a fic like this? Click here!

Between binge-watching Netflix and a few video game sessions, you and Peter still managed to work on a school project. Just like any other Saturday night for you nerds.

It’s past midnight when your eyes finally feel heavy with exhaustion. Peter catches you dozing once or twice, your legs tangled in his blankets on the bottom bunk of his bunk bed.

“I should go,” you say, rolling off the bed and nearly falling to the floor. Peter chuckles and groans. He hangs from the top bunk, his feet hooked on the rails so that he can dangle upside down while he watches you collect your things, stuffing textbooks and papers into your bag with no regard.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here tonight? I’ll give you the top bunk” he offers.

“As nice as that sounds, Pete, I gotta get home. Mom and I are making pancakes tomorrow morning. You know how important that is to her…”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugs with a frown well aware of your current home situation. He cared for you mom as much as his own Aunt May. You had grown up living in the same building as Peter ever since he came to live with his Aunt May. After your parents’ divorce, you and your mom had had to move; both he and May had felt the loss of their friends and neighbors.

“Still...I wish you didn’t have to go.” Peter starts climbing along the wall and up to the ceiling. He does it so casually around you now that you’d known his secret for a year or so now. He starts dangling from the ceiling. His apparent desire to stall your retreat has you taking a seat and munching on some cheetos. “Hey, remember when your mom and May would let us have sleepovers?”

“Yeah, and remember how they stopped letting us do that when we were each other’s first kiss. You really think they’ll let us have a sleepover as teenagers? What with having gone through puberty?” you roll your eyes. Your mention of your shared first kiss carried no awkwardness with it.

“Yeah. Puberty was pretty rough on you too, huh?” Peter teases and you throw a cheeto at him. He catches it in his mouth and chews. You can’t imagine how he manages to chew and swallow while upside down. “I’m kidding. You know what I think of you.” Your blush is faint and barely noticeable. Having grown up together, the two of you had entertained the notion of dating once or twice. The timing was never really right and luckily it hadn’t affected your friendship. “I just worry about you. That’s why I don’t want you to go. I don’t like that you live so far away now.”

“I know, but that’s how it is now, Petey. Mom couldn’t keep the apartment when Dad left. We had to move away.” You roll up the bag of cheetos and set it aside. Shirking on your backpack, you look like you’re ready to leave. You tug on Peter’s shirt to make him drop from the ceiling; you didn’t tug hard...like it’s not like you yanked him from the ceiling...it was more like a tug on a rope to signal your descent...he knew what you meant.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be doing these late nights anymore,” he suggested, straightening out his clothes and hair.

“If you don’t want me hanging around anymore, Peter, just say so,” you tease, always only half joking.

“No! That’s not it at all! I just don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

“Don’t worry. I have pepper spray. Dad gave it to me...before I went on my first date.” You tap Peter on the nose. He sighs.

“Oh, I thought you were going to say that’s what he gave you before he left.”

“Well that’s just sad and mean. No, he got me a new cell phone that day.”

“Ouch.” Peter slings his arms around your shoulders. Talking to him about your dad, someone who’d decided to leave with little regard for yourself or your mother, wasn’t such a heavy burden with Peter. You could tell him anything and he’d understand the serious undertone at the same time as he’d try to make things better. That’s one of the things you loved about him. “Just promise me, you’ll be safe and use that new cell phone to call me when you get home?”

“Of course! The new place is just three blocks away from the train station.”

Peter slips his feet into a pair of sneakers. “Okay...just let me walk you out, at least.”

Peter probably went out on a nightly patrol as Spider-man when you left. You didn’t think much of it. You didn’t worry for him as much as he’d seemed worried for you. But why should he worry? You’d grown up in this city--granted you’re in a new neighborhood but hey! Spider-man had made it a safer neighborhood, right?

The train ride was short and uneventful. You weren’t the only one there. Maybe a few older teens, a nurse on her way home, an old lady with a paper grocery bag (at this time of night? Sure why not?). You kept to yourself--obviously--and thought nothing of your short commute home until you were off the train.

You assume the four men at the stop are waiting to board the train you’ve just exited. You give it no passing thought. But when you start heading down the street, away from the platform, the muffled sound of their voices alerts you to the fact that they never did board the train. You hope they’re heading somewhere else but what are the chances?

“Hey, baby!” one of them calls out. You ignore them, pretend you have headphones in and you can’t hear them.

“Hey sweet thing! Hold up!” another one of them shouts. You can’t pretend you didn’t hear that. They say so themselves. You bring your backpack in front of you, opening the pockets to search for your house keys. The pepper spray is a keychain. Why didn’t you walk home with this already in hand? Because you were delusional to think you’d be safe after midnight in Queens? As your fingers curl around the key ring, you hear the heavy footsteps rushing towards you.

“Hey babe, why not answering us? You got somewhere better to be?”

They start to circle you, even as you press forward.

“Leave me alone,” you protest in an even voice, despite the fear and adrenaline rushing through you.

“Nah, you can’t just walk away. You just got off the train right? You gotta pay the toll.”

“What are you? Freaking trolls that live under a bridge? Leave me alone!” You stand up for yourself, shoving past one of the men and brandishing your pepper spray. They curse at you, lunge for you and grab at your backpack. You hold onto it out of instinct. The only thing worth anything in there is just your wallet. Why are you fighting for it? Defiance in the face of weakness, that’s why.

They get too close to you, overpowering you, one of them holding you back while the other two wrassle away your backpack. You yank your arm free just for a moment and aim your pepper spray at the closest man.

“Ah!! SHIT!” he yells, letting go of your bag. His friends are startled enough to loosen their hold on you and your belongings. You grab them and run. Just one more block! You tell yourself and your pounding heart.

“Get back here bitch!” one of them shouts. A quick glance over your shoulder and you think you see the glint of light bouncing off a blade.

“Hey! That’s no way to talk to a lady!” someone else shouts.

You’re stomach sinks--both with relief and fear.

Someone’s coming to help you.

But you know that voice.

You hide behind a bus shelter and finally turn around to look for your assailants. Right away, the whimpering man whose face is red and streaked with tears...he’s taken care of. His hands are still covering his face as he tries to relieve the pain. Instead, Spider-man’s webbing covers his face and hands, effectively gluing them together.

Spider-man swings in and rams into the same guy, knocking him off balance and into a wall. The other two, they turn to face the brave teenaged Avenger.

“You’re far from your turf, bugboy!” one of them growls as he lunges for Spider-man. He jumps out of the way and onto the side of a building. He shoots twice from wrists. The man is knocked off balance by his near miss and Spider-man is able to stick one foot and one hand to the ground.

“This is my neighborhood too. I can’t have you going around and mugging people!” Spider-man...Peter...jumps off the side of the building and lands a few feet from the third assailant. He stands up at his full height with his shoulders tall and chest out. “And I definitely can’t have you attacking my friends.”

Contrary to his usual style, Peter runs at the man straight on.

“No! He’s got a knife!” you shout. It doesn’t seem to register or matter to him. Peter is stronger than he looks. He tries to punch the guy but he blocks it and tries to restrain him with his webbing. But the mugger uses his knife in his other hand to cut the webbing and break free.

“Spider-freak!” The man shouts as he swipes at Peter. Peter jumps back, seemingly avoiding the blade. But you see his hand rush to his abdomen. He’s hurt! And he’s distracted enough that the mugger lands a few punches to lay Peter out on the floor. “Spider-man? You’re just a loser kid. Now get out of here!”

“No,” Peter groans, struggling to get up. The mugger sets his sights on you. You’re frozen, unsure of whether to run to Peter or to run for safety.

“Peter,” you whisper, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“Karen! Taser web! High voltage!” Peter shouts and his suit responds. Peter extends his left arm and his webshooters let loose. The taser web fires in two strands and hits your would-be attacker in the back. The man loses his voice as he tries to cry out at the pain of voltage surging through him. He convulses and drops to the ground. Another release of his normal webbing and the mugger’s is stuck to the pavement.

Peter collapses too.

You’re supporting Spider-man’s weight as you take him home with you. He’s keeping his hand on his side and you’re concerned at even the slightest sight of blood.

“Peter, you idiot. Why did you do that?” you hiss, tears are running down your cheeks despite your best effort to keep calm.

“Idiot? Didn’t I save you?”

“Yeah, but...now you’re hurt! How did you even know?”

Despite his condition, the two of you are quiet as you enter your apartment building and head for your front door. Your mom is working a night shift. She’ll be home soon, just in time for breakfast.

“Um...I was following you...obviously. Like I said, I was worried about you,” Peter admits as you bring him inside and towards your bedroom.

You urge him to sit on your bed. You try to make him lie down so you can look at his wound.

“Stop fussing, Nurse Y/N. I’m fine. I’ll heal.” He even says this just as he uses some of his webbing as a bandage. You jab at his shoulder.

“Of course I won’t stop fussing! You scared me half to death! I was so worried about you getting hurt, Pete!” Your body is tensing up, the adrenaline in your veins dying off and bringing you back to the verge of exhaustion. Your knees feel like they’re about to give up but you feel like you can only muster enough strength to scold your friend for risking his life.

Peter pulls off his mask and taps his chest to loosen his suit; it pools around his waist where he’s sitting. You can see the bruises beginning to form on his cheek and stomach, and again the large gash in his side from the knife currently bandaged with spiderwebs.

He tugs on your hand and makes you sit on your bed beside him.

“Are you alright? Are you sure?” he asks you. You nod but it only takes another second before you start hyperventilating and shaking. “Oh geez,” he sighs and wraps his arms around you. “Don’t worry. I’m here for you.”

“The way they came after me...and then…” you gasp, “then you showed up and I was so scared for you. Peter...I know you’re Spider-man. I know you can take care of yourself but I don’t see you that way, Pete! You’re my friend and all I could see was my friend putting himself in danger for me. I was…” you tremble…”I was...scared,” you admit. Curling into his bare chest and he holds onto you even tighter. He hums and shushes you.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always follow you like a creep, I promise,” his comment elicits a small chuckle from you both. He tries to lay you down but you cling to him. Eventually, you release him, allowing him to strip out of his spider-suit and into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt he’s likely left behind in the past.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimper as he climbs back onto the bed with you and opens his arms again. “Don’t leave me. Don’t be like him.” Peter’s chest fills with a sharp intake of breath. He’s solid and stable, enveloping you in his warmth and comfort.

“Never. I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be there. As your friendly neighborhood Spider-man and as your best friend.” Peter kisses the top of your head. “I’ll make sure nothing ever happens to you.”

A moment of silence passes as you relax and your tears of shock dry on your cheeks.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Peter’s arms encircle you even more, cuddling you.

“Of course.”

Your mother comes home tired and ready to crawl into bed, but not before she has pancakes with you.

She peeks into your room and sees Peter sleeping next to you. She doesn’t say anything.

She naps on the couch until you wake up on your own and when only you come out of your room she asks, “Will Peter be joining us?”

She doesn’t say much more, doesn’t question his presence at the dining table as he stuffs his mouth with chocolate chip pancakes. She knows he’ll always be here for you. That’s all she could’ve ever hoped for.

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sireom · 5 years ago

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what’s in yui’s bag

yui has a mini pink coach backpack that she received as a gift from her parents before she moved to the us at the age of 18. it’s her go to bag and it’s in pretty good condition despite owning it for a couple of years now.

in the main compartment of her bag, she carries her my melody wallet. inside the wallet, she has her international id card, her medical card, her debit card, and some cash.

next to her wallet, she carries a small make up bag. inside the make up bag, she carries her basics so she can retouch up her make up throughout the day. this include a few different shades of lip gloss/lipstick, watermelon-flavored chapstick, make up wipes, mascara, eyeliner, face powder, and a make up brush.

yui always carries a selfie stick with her along with a go pro. you know, just some youtuber things tbh.

despite her bag not being that big, she always tries to carry granola bars with her as her choice of snack.

in the small front pocket of her bag, she carries her keys with her on a baby pink lanyard. connected to the lanyard is a my melody keychain. obviously, yui loves my melody. her keys consist of one for her apartment, one for her bike lock, and another for her storage unit a few blocks away from her home.

there are also a few mechanical pencils and different colored pens in her front pocket along with a small band-aid box. inside the band-aid box, along with the band-aids, she also carries a condom or two for ‘emergencies’.

occasionally, yui carries her phone in the front pocket of her bag though she usually ends up holding the phone herself nowadays. her phone is one of the current iphones maybe a generation or two back. it’s white and it adorns a clear plastic case that has glitter shimmering on it.

yui also keeps breath mints in her bag because she refuses to have bad breath around her boyfriend.

lastly, she keeps a small roll-on perfume inside her bag as well. the scent is disney’s pixie dust perfume which contains citrus notes along with notes of summer rain and dried fruits. sadly, it’s a discontinued scent now but yui still goes out of her way to buy it whenever she comes across it.

#( headcanon | yui kimura )

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auburnfamilynews · 7 years ago

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It was Saturday, Dec. 8, 2007, the millionth day of a 100-year, shadow-of-death drought that the Associated Press voted the state of Alabama’s top news story that year, bigger than that horrible tornado in Enterprise, bigger than the governor going to federal prison for bribery. Nearly 2 million residents were living under water restrictions, including folks in Tallapoosa County who wondered if they’d even be able to take baths by the end of the year. In August, Lake Martin was already at winter levels. The thing was a puddle. Alexander City and Dadeville started showing up on the date lines for national stories about how God had given up on the south. Islands were turning into peninsulas, people were planting peas and okra where they used to dock their jet skis, black widows were mysteriously swarming swimming pools. And yet in the midst of despair… a miracle.

Saint Shannon McDuffie and I are at the Chappy’s Deli in Auburn. It’s April. Shannon’s from Dadeville. We’re about the same age. One of the houses she cleans on Fridays is in Auburn. I wrote and told her if she could spare an hour I’d buy her lunch. So I’m buying her lunch—chicken salad and anything else she wants. Coffee? Desert? Anything to keep her talking about it. She seems cool with it. Smiling. Laughing. Great laugh. Great accent. And she’s a Bama fan! She brought all the magazines and stuff that had been written about it and there’s nothing about how it happened to a Bama fan, even though it might obviously explain why, of the two faces she saw in the wallet, she only recognized Christ’s, staring out from a copy of what looked to be the Lord’s Prayer that somehow hadn’t disintegrated.

“So, like, you had no idea who he was?”

Shannon shakes her head. It’s emphatic.

“It did not register to me at all who that was. Because everything had, like, 80s (dates) on it. I didn’t know. I’m like, ‘who is Patrick Fain Dye?’”

Her chocolate Labs sat and waited as she dug through it. Once upon a time, Patrick Fain Dye, of Graystone Ave. in Auburn, born Nov. 6, 1939, was an honorary Alabama state trooper. He was 5’11, 195 pounds, an Auburn University employee and a Delta Frequent Flyer. He got a government employee discount on Chevron gas, and he could use either an American Express or Visa to reserve a room for half-price at the Terrace Garden Inn.

She put the cards back in the wallet. It was nice—alligator. The expiration date on the driver’s license was August 4, 1985. So it’d been down there, what, at least 20 years? More? She could still smell the leather.

“It was in Emerald Shores. It’s across from Stillwaters. The water was real low and I was back there taking my dogs and looking for old bottles in the lake and I found this bulge.”

The bulge was a pair of green and blue Madras golf pants.

“They were actually folded with the crease and all still in them.”

Still folded!

But of course they were just pants, old muddy pants; the wallet she fished out was what mattered. So she dropped them. She left them. Repeat—she left the pants! Just left them there in the muck and started the hot walk back to the house in Holiday Shores. Her in-laws were over. They’d get a kick out of it. It was the only thing she’d found out there, but an old wallet belonging to some old man named Patrick Fain Dye… the name was starting to sound familiar… was obviously better than some old Coke bottle. She called for the dogs.

“I walked back and I was telling my husband and his parents about it, and they’re like ‘that’s Pat Dye from Auburn! You better go back and get them pants!'”

Pat Dye! Duh!

She hopped on the golf cart and floored it. She picked up the pants and heard a jingle. Inside the other pocket were keys to a Toyota latched to an Auburn football helmet keychain. And a handkerchief.

People had been finding all kinds of things that fall. Old coins. Lost rings. So one of the local magazines, Lake Martin Living, had the idea to compile a list of the coolest, weirdest treasure for one of their drought stories. The Woman Who Found Pat Dye’s Pants heard about it and was like, ‘oh man, do I have something.’” She wasn’t super into football or anything, but she knew the pants of Auburn’s former football coach would have to be hard to top. Better than a Bicentennial license plate. Better than an old buck knife. Totally unique, right? Totally perfect. So she called Lake Martin Living… and they go “nah.” She picked up the phone… with Pat Dye’s golf pants from the 1980s and his wallet and credit cards and handkerchief and Toyota keys next to her, all of which she’d found in Lake Martin’s corpse… and they told her thanks, but no thanks.

The rejection understandably weirded her out. Ditto the few folks she’d told. How do you pass on that? How do you not include Pat Dye’s Pants in the list of cool things your readers have found in the amazing, disappearing lake? How do you not top the list with that? How do you not make it your cover? How do you not call the Smithsonian?

Gail, the wife of the man who owned the Piggly Wiggly where Shannon worked, wasn’t giving up on getting it out there. She called Auburn.

Um, yeah, hi… this girl Shannon McDuffie who works at the deli inside Piggly Wiggly found Pat Dye’s wallet, looks like he lost it or something… and the woman who picked up just kind of laughed: “Oh, again?”

Click.

And so The Pants (and everything that came with them) just sat there. They just sat there. Months went by, and hardly anyone outside of Clan McDuffie and some friends and Gail knew about the pants. Shannon would come home from Piggly Wiggly everyday and heat something up in the microwave and turn on the TV and they would just be there, maybe in a box, maybe in her closet: Pat Dye’s Pants. She and husband Derrick would go to sleep at night with Pat Dye’s Pants sitting there. She’d head out in the morning and they’d just be sitting there, Pat Dye’s Pants, home alone. She’d leave Pat Dye’s Pants to go to work, to go to the movies, and—praise the Lord— to go take a photography class at Central Alabama Community College taught by Kenneth Boone.

Boone owned the other local magazine, “Lake Magazine,” plus a few local papers. And he was a photographer. Shannon was working on becoming a bit of a shutterbug herself.

“He was teaching a photography class in April 2008. It was a beginners class, anybody could go. I told him about it at class. I said ‘guess what I found in the lake.’ He said ‘wow, we need to do a story on that.’ So that’s how this all came about.”

The photo on the cover of the July 2008 Lake Martin Alabama edition of Lake Magazine is perfect.

“I went a bought a new outfit for it,” Shannon says.

Here it is.

Boone took it. He set the whole thing up. Thankfully, he had some connections. After Shannon shared her secret, he made some calls. A few weeks later, he and Shannon and Pat Dye’s Pants hit the road for the most famous Japanese maple farm in Notasulga. And it was great.

Shannon showed the Pants to Coach. He remembered them. She showed him the wallet.

“Was there any money in there?”

Ha!

“I don’t have any idea how I lost’em,” he told Shannon. “But we’ll make up a good story.”

They walked around for an hour. Coach gave her the tour. Then he made a deal with her: Let him have his pants back, let him auction them off at the Blue Jean Ball, the annual charity thing he hosts every year for Auburn’s nursing school—it was coming up in September—and he’d have her and Derrick down as his special guests.

Kenneth Boone told them to stand next to each other. They stretched the pants out between them and said “cheese.”

Click, click, click.

Clicks, clicks, clicks.

It went viral, obviously. ESPN. The Washington Post. EDSBS. Rick and Bubba. Some old WordPress.com blog called The War Eagle Reader.

I thought it was the greatest story I’d ever heard. I wasn’t alone.

“Hello?”

“Yessir, this is Matt McDonald, you had contacted my office this morning about Coach Dye’s pants.”

Matt McDonald is a big Auburn fan. Huge. He attended AU for a few years in the mid-90s and owns some pharmaceutical industry companies down in Fairhope, which is how he developed friend-of-a-friend connections with the nursing school years back… which is how he found himself at Pat Dye’s Blue Jean Ball in 2008. The theme? Blue Hawaii. Hula dancers. Tiki torches. An Elvis impersonator. The eagle. And Pat Dye’s Pants, mounted in a custom-made shadow box alongside their former contents, ready to fund some nursing scholarships.

Dye called Shannon up in front of everyone.

“I’d been partying with him and dancing,” she says, flipping through the photo album.

They stood next to the shadow box, leis around both of their necks. He introduced her as the woman who’d found his pants. People howled. Matt got ready.

“I was like, holy crap, that’s cool,” Matt says. “I didn’t even know the story about the pants.”

Several big bids later—they started off at $5,000—he became a part of it.

Shannon captioned the picture she took with Matt: “Matt McDonald bought them 4 $8,000! Wow! Who knew, right!”

The night he paid $8,000 for Pat Dye’s Pants was actually the first time Matt met the man. They’ve since become pretty tight. They hunt together. Dye will have Matt’s family up to the house some during football season. Matt’s actually been one of the sponsors of the Blue Jean Ball since 2013 or so. He bids on stuff every year. He usually wins. He’s got a Toomer’s Oak clone (that Dye himself actually came down and planted in Matt’s yard). He’s got a cool hand-carved eagle Dye used to own. He’s got one of Dye’s shotguns. He’s got one of Bo’s shotguns, autographed of course. But when people step into his home office, nothing gets them talking more than the $8,000 pair of muddy pants

“So you’re writing about them or something,” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, kind of like you, I just thought it was the greatest story ever. Had I found those things, I think I probably would have passed out. It would have been such a shock. It was such a hilarious story, but such a cool thing at the same time, at least to me. Because the 80s were such a ripe time for college football lore, and Auburn at the time was right there in the middle of it. I’m just like, what was happening when he lost them? What was going on? It’s like something out of a movie. I mean, we’d just won the Sugar Bowl and should have been national champs and we’re gearing up to play Miami to start the season. Because best I can tell from everything that was in his wallet, it had to have happened in either 1983, but probably 1984.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

The 1984 Pat Dye Invitational Golf Tournament, held Sunday and Monday, July 15 and 16, was probably the biggest they’d had since Dye arrived, the most attended. Who’s going to turn down two paid days at Stillwaters skiing and playing golf and stuffing yourself with barbecue chicken in the name of covering college football’s preseason No. 1, interviewing (via teleconference, but still) that year’s Heisman frontrunner? No one. Definitely not Jon Johnson, that’s for sure. Jon has been the Dothan Eagle’s sports editor for the past 22 years. In 1984, he was the Plainsman’s, and one of probably 200 or so media members who absolutely took Auburn up on the offer.

“Auburn would have sports writers from around the state come up there (to Stillwaters) and just entertain them for the weekend,” Jon says. “Alabama did the same thing when Perkins was there and Curry was there— invite them and treat them to dinner and lunch, and you played golf, and then at night they’d sit around and tell stories and have all the assistant coaches there, too. And, of course, something like that you never see these days. You can’t do it anymore. Basically it was a big socializing event for a couple of days for sports writers and coaches.”

And that year, as fate would have it, for Joe freakin’ DiMaggio.

“Everyone got word (DiMaggio) was down there, and the most unique thing that I remember about it was… well, it’s kind of taboo to ask for autographs. That’s just not something you do (as a journalist). But this was different. I remember vividly people getting in a line to shake his hand. Guys who were with television stations, sportscasters…”

Guys like Jim Fyffe…

And sure, Jon, too.

“I got his autograph on just a piece of notebook paper. I kept it in my wallet for years and years.”

But beyond Joltin’ Joe being there, and the guy who hosted the Ray Perkins Show being photographed in an Auburn hat and a Bo jersey—David Housel threatened to send a print to Perkins—Jon doesn’t remember anything wacky happening. No skinny dipping. No rumors about Coach Dye dropping trou or anything. Just fun.

After finishing 18 holes on Monday afternoon, Jon hopped in the car a happy camper. He got back to Auburn and wrote his weekly column. Here’s how he ended it:

“Dye had said at his press conference he didn’t want anyone to leave on Monday without being able to say they had a good time. He didn’t have anything to worry about.”

Shannon took a copy of the magazine with her to the Blue Jean Ball. Coach signed it for her.

She slides it across the table.

To Shannon, thank you for finding my pant! War Eagle, Pat Dye

“Wait, he just wrote ‘pant’ — not ‘pants,’”I tell her. “There’s no ‘s’ on there.”

We laugh. She’d never noticed.

Not long after the magazine came out, Shannon opened up her mailbox to something from Brad Cotter, the country singer who won “Nashville Star” in 2004.

“His cousin or aunt or something, I know her, and they’re big Auburn fans, and she just thought it was amazing and she told him about it, and he sent me an autographed photo that said ‘If you find my pants, please don’t tell anyone.’”

Since then, it’s mostly died down. But every now and then, someone will still say something.

“Yeah, I was known for a little while around my little town as the girl who found Pat Dye’s pants. They’d keep coming and asking me ‘did you find any pants lately?’ They just kept asking me ‘did he say why he lost them?’ Somebody said that somebody might have gotten mad at him and thrown them into the lake while they were out on a boat.’”

I tell her if we’d gotten there a little earlier, we could have slid into the back booth and asked David Housel. He always does Chappy’s for breakfast. He has to know.

“I have my own theory, though,” I tell her.

She nods along.

“Yeah, if it’s what I’m thinking, Joe DiMaggio was actually there. I’m thinking of starting the story with ‘while Pat Dye was on top of the world, his pants were at the bottom the lake.’”

The check finally comes.

“Well, if you talk to him, tell him I said ‘hi.’ I’d actually like to get back in touch with him and see what he says now. ‘Hey, it’s been 10 years, remember me?’”

I work mornings in the same building where Pat Dye records his weekly radio show. I’ve heard the man recount entire touchdown drives, down by down, from games played before half of us were born, games played in forgettable seasons.

But in 1984? It was great to be an Auburn Tiger going into 1984. It was great to be Pat Dye.

He was coming off what should have been a national championship season. He had at least another year and maybe two with the best player in the country. He was gearing up to open the season against defending national champs Miami in the Kickoff Classic at the Meadowlands, then take on No. 4 Texas at Austin, back to back. He was telling reporters waiting to play golf at Stillwaters that Auburn had a “legitimate chance at the national title.”

Sure, he’s 79. But feeling a breeze, losing your keys, losing your wallet, asking for a ride home, canceling credit cards… all at the same time, all during what is arguably the peak of your coaching career?

Surely…

I’ve talked with him before. Been out to his house. Called him on the phone. But for a kid who in, say, 1984 thought Pat Dye was a god, it’s always pretty nerve wracking.

I took a deep breath. I caught him in the hall. He was wearing khaki pants.

“Hey Coach, remember your golf tournament at Lake Martin in 1984? Joe DiMaggio was there?”

“Yeah, yeah… Joe came down and was there at the press conference we did at Stillwaters.”

“Coach, I’ve been doing a little research… do you think that could have been when you lost your pants?”

He stops, turns around, looks at me.

“Well… it had to have been somewhere around then.”

“So that sounds right? It could have been?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Coach, I actually talked with Shannon McDuffie the other day, remember her? She’s the one who…”

“Yeah, yeah… from Dadeville? She didn’t even know who I was. Her husband had to tell her.”

“Did you know she was an Alabama fan?”

“Well that don’t make no difference.”

If you like TWER, please consider supporting my work via Patreon. Thanks!

Related: Pat’s Dry Field.

from The War Eagle Reader https://www.thewareaglereader.com/2018/08/the-fall-and-rise-of-pat-dyes-pants/

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twentysomethinginorlando · 8 years ago

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Star Wars Half Marathon Episode I: The RunDisney Expo

New Post has been published on https://twentysomethinginorlando.com/swhm-part-one-rundisney-expo/

Star Wars Half Marathon Episode I: The RunDisney Expo

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Drawn by the allure of the Dark Side, a young padawan found herself joining the ranks of Challenge racers for the Star Wars Half Marathon despite the dangers of a lack of training.

When the registration went live for the Star Wars Half Marathon, I was at work. Some RunDisney events sell out in mere hours, some never completely fill up. I had been unable to do it the Inaugural year and there was no way I was missing it this year, so my mom did the registration for me while I was working. I promised her I would actually train for this event unlike my other races, but as usual I fell a little short (a lot short) as life continued getting in the way. Nevertheless, I am taking on the Dark Side Challenge this weekend running the Star Wars 10k on Saturday (6.2 miles) and the Star Wars Half Marathon on Sunday (13.1 miles). This will mark my fifth half marathon, third 10k and tenth RunDisney race. This makes numbers eleven and twelve on my 30 by 30 plan.

All Walt Disney World RunDisney Half Marathon events take place over a four day weekend. The RunDisney Expo is always open starting Thursday for the first three days for bib pickup and shopping with the 5k on Friday, the 10k on Saturday and the Half Marathon on Sunday. I usually do packet pickup on Thursday afternoon after the rush of the morning, but today my work schedule did not cooperate with that plan so I had to go in the morning before my shift started.

The RunDisney Expos are held at ESPN Wide World of Sports, Walt Disney World’s giant sports complex. Bib pick up is usually in the HP Field House and the Expo is held in the Jostens Center with shirt pick up. The Expo started at 10 am, but I got there closer to 11:30. In addition to getting my swag, I was meeting a friend and I was worried she was stuck waiting on me so I hurried straight to the Jostens Center. The entrance path wrapped around one of the sports fields in a way I’ve never seen, and you walked past a DJ on your way. Right next to the building were two Stormtroopers,

“Nothing to see here, move along!”

but as soon as someone tried to take a photo with them they began moving along on their patrol. My friend was still in line for the official merchandise booth so I wandered around a bit. I thought about trying to meet her but the line to just get in the booth went down and back about five times, and it wasn’t worth it. I love to window shop at the Expo, I rarely buy anything but usually some of the booths have prizes. For what is supposed to be one of the least expensive sports to take up, there’s a whole lot of specialized equipment for it. Belts, pouches, skirts, compression shorts, kinesio tape, socks, medal displays and more! I almost bought one of the shirts, but I didn’t feel like spending $40 on a tank top when my bib could cover most of the words. Normally there’s a GoodSense booth with a prize wheel where you can get tiny sample bottles of pain relievers, but I couldn’t find it.

I did stop by the New Balance booth to look longingly at the Haunted Mansion shoes. Every year there’s a new collection of RunDisney New Balance shoes, and this year’s are attraction themed. I got the Ariel ones last year since the bright red Mickey ones were just too loud, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to justify buying a second pair.

Ashley, the genius behind RunPrincessRun!

Then my friend texted that they were out of the line and I dashed over to meet her. Her name is Ashley and in addition to being a Star Wars fan and a runner, she is a talented seamstress and she makes runners’ skirts for RunPrincessRun. Hers are a little different from the most of the ones I’ve seen over the years. They have intricate glitter designs based on whatever character the skirt is for. I wore her Mrs. Potts skirt when I ran the Princess Half back in February, which was great because the design was actually my idea! (Well, making a Mrs. Potts skirt was my idea. The actual design was all her!) This time I am rocking her Rebel Alliance skirt for the 10k and her Empire skirt for the Half, and I had to meet her at the Expo in order to pick them up. We hugged and went our separate ways, I had to go get my bib and she was going to check out the rest of the booths.

Everything about this day was backwards. I always print my waiver out in advance and I always get my bib and swag before I go to the Expo. Well, in addition to doing the Expo first, I forgot my waiver. Printing it out was a surprisingly quick and painless process, and I might just do it there from now on. I only had to wait one turn to get my bib, a quick signature and picture and I was off to the back of the room for my shirts. In this case, I’m grateful I’m doing the Challenge instead of just one race. Only the 5k and the Challenge shirt pick up were in the same building as the bibs, if you were doing the individual 10k and Half you had to go to the Expo to pick them up so I would have had to go back.

I stopped to transfer my three t-shirts into my backpack and threw out the gear bag check. I never use it. Everything I need fits in the Running Buddy pouch my mom got me for Christmas 2015. It folds over the back of the waistband on whatever I’m wearing and magnets hold it in place. I usually only carry my phone and the key to my car, though since the release of Pokémon Go I usually have a charging cable and a fuel rod in there too. That’s way too much mileage to not get credit for! I was a little sad there wasn’t the usual cliff bar sample and other swag in there, but oh well. My biggest disappointment is the transfer to digital event guides instead of printed ones. I get that it’s better for the environment, and less money for Disney, but I like having the physical book to look through and keep as a souvenir.

I headed out towards the parking lot and made what I thought would be a quick detour to take a photo in front of the Dark Side Challenge medal sign. They always have all the medals printed on posters for photo ops, but they’re usually surrounding the globe at the entrance instead of off to the side. The photo itself was quick. I told the girl behind me in line I’d take her photo if she’d take mine, and then the couple behind us offered to take one of us together which was very sweet except we weren’t together. So I picked up the bag with my skirts and kept going towards the car, and about two minutes later realized I’d left my backpack behind! MY DOONEY AND BURKE BACKPACK MY GRANDMOTHER BOUGHT ME! I took off at a sprint to go back and look for it, and my phone bounced out of my back pocket not once, but twice along the way. It’s fine but my case is all sorts of scratched up, sorry Eeyore. The couple who had offered to take the photo saw me running and told me they gave it to a security guard. I found her and had to tell her what was in the bag before she could let me take it. “Three shirts, two notebooks, a set of keys attached to a cat keychain and a wallet.” She glanced inside and handed it to me, and I began the walk back to the car as I tried to calm down from the adrenaline that comes with a burst of panic. I ran into the couple again and thanked them.

I got to the car and checked my watch, still enough time to get lunch before work so I drove to Disney Springs to get Blaze. They always advertise special offers for runners at Disney Springs but I’m usually too busy or too tired on race weekends to go. I still didn’t have time to take advantage of any of them, but there were some cool signs posted around.

My plan for tomorrow is take it as easy as possible and carb load before I have to get up at 2 am Saturday so I can be on the bus to Magic Kingdom by 4 am. I’m a little worried about how warm it’s going to be, and clearly RunDisney is too because they’ve already issued a weather advisory. After the race I’m planning a Star Wars movie marathon with Duffy, then rinse and repeat for Sunday. I’ve got three different friends running, one’s doing just the 10k and two are doing the Challenge so hopefully I hook up with them at some point. The good news is I’m not the only one who hasn’t really trained so either the Force will be with us, or we’re all going to die Rogue One style.

My mantra for this weekend: “I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

#disney #rundisney #running #star wars #Adventure Report #Running

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