#“yo dad I'm like in my twenties”

[singswan-springswan]

the little mermaid but it's kanera

[ienjoywritingfilth]

The night of the Concert

K I’m new here but I hope you like this even though it’s just filthy and horny and I like it like that. Maybe you will too.

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader

trope Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller

summary: your bf breaks your heart and you turn to the only person you can. It happens to be Joel Miller, your best friend Sarah's dad.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), dubcon, oral, infidelity, p in v, absolutely filthy talk, daddy mentioned, other shit but I've forgotten.

word count: 4.3k

The day is warm and the fan spinning next to you isn't doing much to help. You and Sarah are seated on her couch, you cross legged with her foot in your lap as you paint her toenails a vivid green. 

"I think he's gonna ask me to be his girlfriend," you say with a giggle as Sarah's eyes widen. 

"Really? Holy shit that's huge," Sarah says, watching as you swipe the green Polish onto her remaining nails. "He hasn't been serious about anyone since Mariana."

Mariana is your boyfriend Jeremy's ex girlfriend. A beautiful woman with high ambitions. You can't stand her and go to great lengths to avoid her when you see her on campus. 

Sarah is your best friend of several years, ever since your first day at college when you'd both been lost on your way to Chemistry. She's the reason you're with Jeremy in the first place. She's seen you through final exams, bad frat parties and your first college boyfriend. 

"You two will have the cutest babies!" Sarah says dramatically as you wave her off. 

"Gross. I'm only twenty-two, dude."

Sarah shrugs. 

"At least when you have kids you'll have a better reason to call him daddy."

The two of you bust out into braying laughter, so loud and for so long that when her dad comes in from the backyard he's grinning at the two of you. 

"What're you two gigglin' about for so long over there?"

Sarah's dad Joel Miller is about the nicest man you've ever met. Respectful, loving, patient and funny. You love being over at their house because you love seeing such a healthy familial dynamic at work. It's no wonder Sarah is so happy all the time. You envy that. 

"Nothing dad!" Sarah says, still wiping the tears from her eyes as the two of you continue to giggle.

"Yeah, nothing," you add, holding a pillow to your face to hide the laughter. 

"Okay, well the burgers are on the grill, jokesters. Can you get your mom? Think she's upstairs in the office."

Sarah nods, pushing off the couch and heading upstairs. 

"You staying for dinner, darlin'?" Joel asks you politely from the kitchen. 

"If you and Mrs Miller don't mind," you nod, coming to walk into the kitchen. 

You don't want to go home tonight. Your parents work long hours and the house is often empty. You're often here at the Millers place, eating dinner, studying, just hanging out. They always treat you well and always invite you to stay for meals. 

"We never mind," Joel insists as he mixes up the salad. "We only mind when you call us Mister and Mrs Miller. Makes us feel old."

"You're not old," you insist with an eye roll as you absently play with one of the edges of the decorative napkins. 

"Tell that to my knees." 

You laugh at that, turning to see Sarah and her mom Angela entering. Angela wraps you in a side hug and asks about school as the four of you gather around the dinner table. 

"I'll be glad when exams are over," you say with a roll of your eyes. "They stress me out so bad." 

"You say that and you always get top marks," Sarah says as she adds the tomato to her bun. "I bet you got an A+ on your last exam." 

"Yeah," you nod shyly as you add ketchup to your plate.  

"Your parents must be mighty proud," Joel offers before a sip of beer. Angela nods in agreement. 

"Yeah, your daddy must be so proud of you," Sarah drawls as she plates her salad, winking at you. 

The Miller parents look confusedly to one another when you and Sarah can't stop giggling.

----------

Date night with Jeremy! Dress with the stripes or the jeans? Where is he taking you? Ice cream and walk on the beach.   Sundress with the polka dots!!!!!  You're a genius Sarah Miller. I owe you big time Just pay me back by making me maid of honor at your wedding What are you up to tonight?   I'm taking my mom to see the Bangles for her birthday.  Awwww. Have fun! 

You toss your phone onto your daisy-patterned coverlet and stretch. It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon and you're in the best mood. 

You take a shower, slipping into the sundress Sarah recommended. As you do your hair and makeup in front of your mirror you fantasize about what awaits you this evening with your boyfriend Jeremy. 

You've been seeing him for three months now and he's always a gentleman, always taking you for thoughtful dates. Sarah introduced you as they're both in the same Philosophy class. Sexually he's just a little too eager, too quick. There's a lot to be improved, but you're happy to keep learning together. He's so handsome and smart. You love how he looks in his glasses when he's pouring over a textbook. 

A few hours later you’re showered, smelling delicious and wearing your shortest dress. You spin in front of your mirror before affixing a delicate lace bow to the back of your hair. You feel beautiful and you sigh dreamily.

Your phone beeps and you glance down to see Jeremy’s sent you a message. You smile to yourself, swiping up and reading the text.

Hey I'm sorry I don't think this is gonna work out. My ex and I have been messaging the last little bit and we're gonna give it another shot. I just wanted to be up front with you. 

You read the text over and over several times. It takes you that long to understand what’s happening. When you do you call Sarah, but it goes straight to voicemail. Over and over. You’re panicked, tears sliding down your face. You need to see her. You need comfort.

---------------------------

You arrive at the Miller home shortly after eight, pounding on the door as you sob. You’re surprised when Joel answers the door in jeans and a t-shirt, looking like he’s just woke up from a nap with bleary eyes and his hair mussed.

“Fuck, I’m sorry to wake you up Mr. Miller,” you sniff, wiping at your wet eyes. “Is Sarah here? It’s important?”

“Are you okay?”

He must see the frantic way you’re looking around or the tears that stain your cheeks.

“Jeremy broke up with me,” you tell him without hesitation.

"I'm so sorry," Joel grimaces, rubbing at the back of his neck and the clear display of discomfort. "Fuck I wish Sarah was here for you, or even Angela. But they’re at that concert tonight."

That's right, the Bangles. 

"Fuck I'm so sorry I forgot," you say shaking your head. "I'll leave-"

"Hold on now, I'm not sure it's a great idea for you to be driving right now," Joel insists. "Why don't you come in for a glass a water and a chance to calm down a bit?"

Under normal circumstances, you would be embarrassed at taking up his time. But considering how emotionally wrung out you are right now, you simply nod and follow after him like a sad puppy. 

He sits you on the couch and joins you moments later, passing you a glass of water. You drink it shakily as Joel smooths hair hair, watching you all the while.

“I feel so embarrassed,” you tell him once the glass is drained. “Acting crazy.”

“I know what heartbreak feels like,” Joel confesses. “It can make you crazy.”

You smile shallowly and nod at him before looking at your lap. “I’m a fucking idiot for thinking he was into me.”

"That's nonsense," Joel insists, taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. 

"It's true," you say with your voice wobbling. "I thought he loved me," 

You whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. You're surprised when Joel pulls you into his sturdy arms. 

"Aw honey," Joel says holding you and rocking you gently.

One large hand goes to cradle the back of your skull, the other around your waist. You dissolve into tears as you say the last word and Joel holds you tighter. You bring your arms up around his neck, holding him as you cry, feeling safe and protected in his muscled grip. 

"It's gonna be okay." 

"Why do people always say that? It's not going to be okay!"

You pull away from Joel sharply, burying your face in your hands. You feel as Joel's body comes to shuffle next to yours, the cushions dipping as he moves until you're thighs touch. 

"Honey---"

"Nothing is going to be okay again," you whimper, turning to face your friend’s father. Joel looks so anguished for you, his hand coming to cup your cheek gently. 

"I know it seems like that now but I promise you there's lots of men out there."

"None like Jeremy." Your face crumbles. "None that will love me like him."

Now it's you who throws yourself into Joel's arms, burying your face in his shoulder as you cry. He rocks you slowly, petting your hair as you tears soak his flannel. 

"He ain't the only guy in the world." 

"He was special. He thought I was beautiful."

"You are," Joel insists at your jaw, still rocking you gently. "You're so fucking beautiful and don't you forget it." 

His words rumble through his chest and you can't help but feel your body soften at them. You didn't realize how much you needed to hear them until right this moment. 

"Thank you Joel," you sniffle, kissing his cheek gently without thinking. 

You feel him stiffen a moment, registering what's just happened. But he doesn't pull away. He keeps holding you, arms tight. 

And the sting of Jeremy's rejection seems to dim. With Joel's arms wrapped around you it's almost like he's shielding you from all that. It makes you feel grateful, and it's not long before you’re overtaken with emotion. 

"Thank you for everything," you breathe against his jaw. "You're so understanding."

"Not a problem," Joel says in a thick voice. 

And suddenly something in the air changes as Joel loosens you in his grip. A quiet hum, a vibration, starting between the two of you. Your hand is on his hip now, mouth tilting towards his face. You see his dark eyes dart from your eyes to your mouth and back again. 

"You're always so kind to me," you whisper, not breaking his gaze. Joel's breathing deepens and you feel all resolve leave you. 

Your mouth goes to his, tentative and gentle and you attempt to kiss him. He immediately pulls back from you, eyes wide. 

"Hey whoa," he says, pushing you gently back by the shoulder. "What're you doin'?"

You don't answer. Instead your hands trail down his stomach, tripping over his belt and coming to slide over the growing bulge between his legs. 

"Something that we both want, I think." 

He hisses at the contact, trying to jerk out of your touch. 

"I don't," Joel says quickly. But he doesn't pull your hand off of where they rest over his jeans. 

You don't know if it's the rejection from Jeremy or because you're doing something so wrong, but you can't stop wanting to touch Joel. There's something intense about this grown man getting red in the face, his breathing quickening as he allows you hand to gently massage him through his pants. 

"You deserve to feel good, Joel," you whisper as your hand goes to his zipper. "Let me make you feel good."

Joel makes a murmur of protest as he watches your fingers dragging the zipper down. He seems shocked, as if his body won't obey his brain. He makes a noise of protest when you slide your hand underneath his boxers, feeling his cock twitch. 

Joel flinches when your fingertips slip under the band of his boxers and graze his bare cock. He knows it's wrong when you wrap those same fingers around his shaft, but he's so fucking hard. He can't remember the last time he was this hard.

"You gotta---" he starts, but the rest of his sentence becomes a tight hiss as you you take him out of his pants. You marvel at the size of him, your fingers unable to meet at the base when you pull him free of his boxers.

"So big."

Joel watches you gaze at his cock, muffling a groan as you tilt forward and let a bead of if saliva drop from your mouth onto the head of his twitching cock. When you give a short stroke down, coating him in your saliva he feels he has to say something. 

"I'm married," he says weakly.

"Shhh," you murmur against his bearded cheek. "Let me do this for you."

You make a whimpering groan at the sight of him, thick and the weeping. 

"Honey, I---" He's leaning back into the couch almost like he's trying to stop what's happening. 

"Shhhh," you soothe against his jaw once more. "Just enjoy it."

Your hand begins to stroke up his shaft, using his copious pre-cum to glide. He growls lowly, hips sliding back and forth. 

"Such a big cock," you murmur, watching your hand slide up his girthy length. Joel makes a strangled noise before breathing deeply. His gaze is locked on your hand watching it delicately slide along his straining cock.

Use your mouth. Use your fucking mouth. 

He hates that this thought comes to him as he watches his daughters college friend jerk him off. Hates that this will be played on loop in his mind for years to come. Hates that his marriage of twenty three years is about to be flushed away for twenty minutes of pleasure. 

But he doesn't hate it enough to stop. 

"This...Mmmm... Shouldn't be doing this," Joel groans. You squeeze the tip and his head falls back against the sofa. "Fuck, you gotta stop-"

But even as he says this, Joel's hips are jutting forward, urging your palm to slide over his length over and over. 

"You're such a good man, Joel. You deserve this," you murmur against his ear, tongue coming to gently trace the lobe. "You deserve to feel good." 

Joel watches your thumb circle the rosy head of his cock and he shudders. Pre-cum starts at the tip, beading there enticingly. 

"You deserve to come," your warm breath fans against his neck. "Don't you?"

His head jerks back against the couch, eyes slamming shut as his cock twitches in your hand. You can see him relenting, his body twitching. 

"I shouldn't be doing this," Joel pants, thrusting his cock between your fingers. 

"You should.” Your mouth begins sponging kisses to the underside of his jaw. "Keep going. Lemme make you come." 

Your wrist snaps as you jerk him off faster, the wet sounds of his flesh turning you on even more. You wonder if he'll fuck you if you try to mount him. 

"This is so fuckin' wrong," Joel pants, his hips thrusting harshly against your palm. He's grunting, his hips off the couch as he fucks into your hands. 

He's just saying words, no thought behind them. It's wrong but he doesn't fucking care. All he cares about is the steadily building orgasm that you're bringing forth with every twist of your wrist. 

Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching as Joel's mouth goes slack and his eyes crack open, trained on your hand around his cock. 

"Want more, Joel?" You purr against his jaw. "My mouth?" 

Joel breathes shallowly, eyes going from his cock to your mouth over and over. 

Your hand slides quicker and Joel gives a strangled groan when your head lowers. You tilt your face, meeting his gaze as your tongue comes out to lick the head of his cock long and slow. Joel nearly jumps out of his skin. 

"Fuck," Joel grunts, his cock twitching. He breathes shakily before his eyes seem to darken. "Do it again."

You flick your tongue against the mushroom head before suckling gently at the tip. Joel's eyes roll back as you do this, tasting the sweet tang of his precum.  

You pull off, lower lip grazing the head of his bobbing length. You watch as he grits his teeth and his eyes find yours. 

"You wanna fuck my mouth, Joel?"

It's like he remembers who you are and what this is because you see regret cross his features. 

"N-no," Joel grits out with a wild flail of his head. "Gone far enough. This is---"

He's denying it, trying so hard to move back from you but you know he's close, the head of his cock is mauve and it twitches in your grip.  

"Would feel so good," you croon, tongue starting to circle the bulbous head once more. Joel is groaning, his hands in tight fists at his side. "I know you wanna fuck my mouth."

Joel is trying so hard not to give in. He tries to remind himself that you're his daughter’s friend, that he's happily married, that he isn't this kind of guy. But you’re so fucking sexy right now, desperate for his cock in a way his wife hasn't been for years. 

You swallow the first inch of him and he groans low and loud, his hips twitching. You pull him out slowly before you glance up at him, the throbbing head of his cock slick against your wet lower lip. 

"When's the last time you fucked someone's mouth, Joel?" You tease, and he sees the mirth in your eyes when he all but whimpers in reply. 

Joel's head is thrown back, a ragged sigh escaping him. He shouldn't want this, he shouldn't let you keep going.  

But then you take the length of him in your mouth, almost gagging at the thickness of him, and all coherent thought leaves him. 

You bob up and down on his length, eyes closing in bliss. Joel is carding his hands through your hair as you suck him off. 

"Fuck, take it deeper," he rumbles, and you feel his large palm on the back of your head, pushing. "Swallow it." 

"Yeash shur," you manage through a mouthful of cock.  

Joel can't hold back, he starts to thrust up into your throat, grunting as he fucks it. You hold onto his thighs, eyes watering as the bulbous head slips further and further. 

When you sputter you feel Joel come back to himself, gripping you by the back of your heck and pulling you off of him. You whine in protest as you sit back up, the sight of Joel's hard cock, still glossy with your saliva between you. 

“You need to stop.”

Joel watches transfixed as go to a stand beside the couch between his parted legs. He makes a sound almost pained as he watches you slide your fingers under your dress, tugging down and stepping out of your lace panties.

He just stays rigid when you crawl into his lap. You slide your wet slit along his cock, feeling as sharp huffs of air escape him. You feel heavy with power, your mouth going to his ear. 

"When's the last time you fucked college pussy, Joel?"

You smile when you hear the strangled sound escape him. You can see he's soaked with pre-cum, a shiny sticky collection wetting the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. His eyes are stuck on the seam of your pussy teasing the head of his cock.

"It's okay to like it," you promise him. "It's okay to want this."

"I wanna put it in," Joel grunts. 

Your mouth is at his ear, warm and husky.

“Put it in.”

Joel groans and you feel his thick fingers start to squeeze your hips. He's not inside you yet, but he's so thick and warm against your pussy lips. He’s hypnotized, urging your pussy down, desperate to feed his cock into you.

“I need it," he whispers in a daze.

"You can have it," you encourage, breathlessly as you watch him grip his cock and guide it to your waiting hole.

"This is so fucking bad," Joel groans, half aroused, half disgusted with himself as he begins to feed his cock into your twitching pussy.  

You grin, fingers digging into his shoulders when the bulbous head breeches your entrance.

“Tell me to stop,” he almost begs but you shake your head.

“You deserve this,” you say. “Deserve to fuck my tight pussy.”

You’re married. You have a kid. This is fucking wrong.

All those worries are gone the second the head of his cock feels the velvet clench of your cunt. He can’t look away from where you’re both connected. Without warning he sheaths himself deeply, watching your brows crumple as you take him to the hilt. Joel watches your pussy swallowing his cock, knowing how fucking wrong it is and hating how he has no intention of stopping.

"I fuckin’ deserve this," he pants out, watching your tits bounce as you slide along his length. You ride him well, experienced, full of energy. He can’t remember the last time Angela rode him like this, like his cock was everything.

“Yes you fucking do,” you groan out, bouncing in his lap. He grips you tightly, fucking into you like you’re a human flesh-light.

He does deserve this. He works hard, he’s a good father, a loving husband. He’s never done anything like this before. Would never dream of fucking a girl who’s been over at his house for months, who’s never appealed to him like this until this very moment. A girl who’s tits jump with every thrust of his cock, whose wet mouth forms a lurid ‘O’ when he hits a particularly good spot. He deserves to have you ride him here in his house, a desperate, needy fuck.

Joel feels everything in him tightening as he watches you peel the dress off your body, tossing it over your shoulder and he sees you’ve forgone a bra this evening, letting the rhythmic slap of his cock up into you make them jiggle enticingly. You sit there naked, riding his cock with no shame or hesitation.

“You feel so good,” you tell him through a groan, your eyes falling shut.

He feels his balls contract when you start to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as your head falls back. Joel can’t help but dart forward, latching onto your breast and laving at the taut nipple. You moan as he continues to fuck you, pausing when he grips your wrist.

“Make yourself cum,” He orders, forcing your hand between your legs. “Soak me.”

You nod doing as he says, rubbing your swollen clit for barely any time at all before you shuddering.

“Gonna cum,” you moan, head tilting back once more.

Your hands fly behind you, gripping onto his knees. Joel can see everything, see’s how your clit rubs against his shaft and your thighs shake.

"Fuckin' do it sweetheart," he croaks. "Fuckin' soak my cock."

He holds your hips again, entranced at how you slide up and down him, your arousal seeping down into the curled hairs at the base of his cock as you cum. He watches all of this in amazement, his breathing shallow and rapid.

You pull yourself back, your pussy fucking drenched as you slowly continue to pump yourself up and down on him. He’s still so hard, aching and desperate for release. He casts a feral smile at you.

“Keep fuckin’ yourself on it,” he tells you.

 You nod and he watches your plump mouth curl into a smile.

"You wanna fuck me full of your cum, daddy?"  

Without warning Joel suddenly goes rigid.

You think he's going to come but instead he's red-faced and gripping your waist. He pulls you off of him, his cock still hard and throbbing, slick from your earlier release. He shakes his head, panting.

"Fuck. No. We gotta stop."

"But---"

"This ain't right," Joel insists, tucking himself still hard back into his jeans with shaking fingers as you arch up. 

"But I want to."

"And if you keep going I'm not gonna be able to stop you," Joel lets out a shaky laugh, unsmiling as he tilts down to grab your dress. He passes it to you politely averting his eyes; as if this belated gesture means anything after all he’s done and seen. You frown.  

"Joel."

"I'm married and you're Sarah's friend. If that wasn't enough, I'm also two decades older than you."

"I like older men," you insist, trying to swing your thigh over his. Joel stops you, hand pressing you back gently. 

"You're too young to know what you want," Joel says sharply. 

"That's not true."

Joel surveys your face for a moment, concern softening the edges of his expression. 

"You just got dumped by the boy you love. You’re not thinking properly."

"No," you shake your head. "That's not it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," you say, hands reaching for his zipper again. "I just want this."

Joel shakes his head gently, fingers gripping your wrist and pulling you off of him firmly. 

"Honey you gotta stop," he says, taking your hand and placing it back in your lap. "This ain't you." 

You don't like how Joel is looking at you, like he's peeling your skin from your body, peering in to see what he shouldn't. 

"I could make you feel so good," you promise him, hand coming to palm him through his jeans once more. "Our little secret."

You see his resolve waver before his hand grabs your wrist, pulling you off of him.  He's looking at you with concern, with compassion. With pity. It makes the sting of his rejection more potent. You pull on your dress now, feeling the first pangs of humiliation starting.

"You need to go, honey. Right now." 

Now that the moment is sobering you feel a flash of panic.

"Are you gonna tell Sarah?"

"No." Joel shakes his head. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. But I think maybe you shouldn't come around here for the next little bit." 

"I understand," you say staggering to a stand. He walks you to the door in awkward silence. He opens the door and then he finally speaks.

"You are a beautiful, smart woman. Don't let one idiot make you forget." 

You eyes grow misty and you give a shallow nod before turning. 

"Thank you, Joel."

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!” 

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence. 

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle. 

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly. 

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well. 

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam. 

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone. 

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road. 

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows. 

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out. 

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly. 

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing. 

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road. 

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!” 

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns. 

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic. 

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor. 

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added.  “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn. 

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. 

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward. 

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. 

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off. 

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself. 

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic. 

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you. 

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true. 

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.” 

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment. 

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor. 

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb. 

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon. 

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted. 

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—” 

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered. 

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala. 

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee. 

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist |

summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003- 

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?” 

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing. 

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway. 

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it. 

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?” 

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again. 

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead. 

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up. 

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her. 

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.” 

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds. 

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling. 

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests. 

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen. 

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover. 

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly. 

“Is that work?” she asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?” 

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.” 

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?” 

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college. 

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl. 

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before. 

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again. 

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand. 

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?” 

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up. 

You shake your head.  “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you. 

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?” 

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.” 

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?” 

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer. 

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?” 

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.” 

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?” 

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher. 

“Thank you for dinner,” she says. 

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat. 

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?” 

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.” 

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask. 

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.” 

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.” 

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder. 

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.” 

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic. 

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things. 

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing. 

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand. 

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.” 

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.” 

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh. 

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip. 

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it.  Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.” 

“Do they?” 

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.” 

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.” 

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.” 

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.” 

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him. 

“You ready?” you ask. 

He nods. 

“After you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is. 

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception. 

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.” 

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up. 

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.” 

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.” 

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away. 

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods. 

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk 

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer. 

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?” 

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down. 

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly. 

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?” 

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him. 

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside. 

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think. 

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says. 

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.” 

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family. 

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low. 

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before –  maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now. 

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work. 

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?” 

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again. 

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

-

volume ii

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg

[hotteoki]

drunk bf ateez headcanons - 2k celebration!

pairing: ateez x reader (no prns used)

cw: mentions of alcohol (obvie)

genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanon

notes: after watching drunkteez on wanteez and having yunho on my mind i just had to write this ( ˘ ³˘)

notes: this is my second celebration post! happy 2k followers!

hongjoong

he seems fine

at first

he's downing shots, glasses, bottles

at flash speed

but he's fine

even he says he's fine

"i just don't feel anything"

"well i mean some people just don't get drunk"

"maybe i'm just reeeeeally talented"

you're like thinking 'oh! he's not too bad'

...

did the 'reeeeeally' not give you warning signs in your head

you spoke too soon

next thing you know he's trying to shove his head down the billiard/pool/snooker table holes

it's more of gently ramming his head against the table edge than shoving his head tho

you were dying laughing by the time you reached him

"joong what are you doing???"

"i'm looking for thissssss"

"what is 'this', joongie?"

it's silent for a while and you're rubbing his back

then he just pops up

"this!"🫰🏻

(ಠ ಠ)

he thinks he's sooooo funny

you had to stare at him for a good few minutes before processing what the hell you just witnessed

he's upgraded from terrible dad jokes to terrible rizz jokes

i don't think i can decipher which is worse

he's also balancing the shot glasses on the back of his hand

which had you PANICKING

a whole migraine just from that

forget a hangover

your fear of him breaking one of those is enough for you to want to die

surprisingly he didn't break any

"see baby? i'm just tooooooo talented"

he's giggling so much

it's so cute :(

but add the worst aegyo in the world to the list

it’s near bang chan level of horrifying

i mean sure

joong is NATURALLY a giant tiny cutie

but when he’s doing it on purpose???

um.

well!

okay!

(유∀유|||)

have fun!

seonghwa

no thoughts behind those eyes

just blink blink (0_0) (-_-) (0_0)

i'm pretty sure he's on mars

and out of nowhere he starts singing along to i want it that way playing in the background (b99 ref (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘))

singing along very loudly if i may add

BUT

as soon as the song ends

he's back to his (0_0) (-_-) (0_0) agenda

at one point

you’ve just gotten used to his giggles and clapping out of the blue

yeah he just applauds randomly

to whom and why?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he just wants to i guess

"hwa, i think we should go now it's like 4am-"

"HAKUNA MATATA YO"

oh he's singing again!

will not stop for the next twenty minutes

in his head it's a free karaoke bar

and he's just singing to his heart's content

he can also get pouty very quickly

and is very, very clingy

whichever one of your arm is nearer to him is not going to hear the bells of freedom for the rest of the long night

to be fair

if any of the other members are near him

he's also going to be clinging to them

just

a little less than you

he loves you the most after all! ><

all in all

he's pretty chill

every now and then

this is a bit short cause i don’t know what else i could say i’m sorry (╥_╥)

i'll make it up with a seonghwa drabble soon promise

yunho

where did this man's energy come from???????

one minute he's on the dance floor

he's 'boogying', as he said

the next he's running laps around the bar

you're just shocked he hasn't crashed into another poor innocent person yet

oh and now he's on the stage! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

are you ripping out your hair yet

( ˘ ɜ˘) ♬♪♫ (yunho!!!!!!)>ヽ(‵﹏´)ノ

he's singing what seems to be halazia

except it's literally just the word halazia being repeated

you're pretty sure he sang 'hala-hala-hala-hala-halazia' like about seven times

stream seven by jungkook

you had to physically drag him down from the stage

“nooooo baby you don’t understand i still need to sing hips don’t lie they need meeeeeee (ง'̀-'́)ง”

“yeah ok shakira let’s go”

his hand slips from yours and he’s sucked into the wardrobe of narnia

cause even tho he’s a literal giant

you can’t seem to find his usually sticking out head

the reason why?

he’s squatting while doing the dougie

why? i don’t know

i don’t think he knows either

but he’s dougieing!

he’s also spitting BARS

starts rapping to mingi’s part in guerilla while you’re trying to drag him out

at this point you’re beginning to suspect that he’s not actually drunk

maybe a little tipsy

but mostly just staying to cause chaos

and to give you a headache

but his little pout as you’re pulling him away

“yuyu come on we have to go >:(“

“but baby i don’t want tooooo”

does this face 🥺

yk that one time when ateez made faces imitating the emoji signs they were holding

and yuyu had the 🥺 one

THATS EXACTLY THE FACE HES MAKING

and how can you deny this golden retriever :,)

(if you can resist it you’re just a maniac frankenstein cheoreom georeo maniac maniac ha ha idk i don’t make the rules)

“okay fine… but no-”

“YAY i’ll be back”

he does in fact come back a few minutes later

HOLDING A PIGEON?????

“YUNHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? PUT THE BIRD DOWN-”

“i made a friend! :D”

you’re certain he took a few years off your life in just one night

yeosang

since we've never actually seen him drunk

cause he's a fairy

i'll go by what joong san and hwa were saying in their vlive like ages ago

cause apparently yeosang gets all cute

so let's imagine a very clingy sangie

just tugging and snuggling into your arm

mumbling your name too

his cute nose scrunches up whenever you try to move

he whines about how you don’t love him anymore

literally just because you moved to scratch an itch on your neck

“sangie what do you mean i don’t love you anymore of course-”

“you don’t LOVE ME ANYMORE :-(”

near tears because he’s convinced of his point

sigh

“baby why do you think i don’t love you anymore?”

“hm??”

confused blink blink

he’s forgotten what he was even saying

your hand brushing through his hair is just too distracting!!!!

he’s a simple man ok?

( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )

that’s how i imagine he looks

with a flushed face

but still looking like an angel sent from heaven

but yk

don’t forget about his muscles

（ΦωΦ）

atp he’s fed up with you moving around while trying to take care of the other members

so he just tightens his iron grip on your arm

good luck moving a literal koala clinging onto your arm

like hwa’s situation

you’re not moving another inch until he’s satisfied with the amount of love he’s showered you

which

he never will be

◝(๑꒪່౪̮꒪່๑)◜

again very short cause i have nothing to come from ;-(

san

literally the LOUDEST mfer in the bar

you can expect everyone within a twenty meter radius to be staring at the two of you

you just standing there like (ಥ‿ಥ) and he's just like ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ

flexing

he's not doing it on purpose

but like

come on

how can you NOT stare at the gorgeous man that is your boyfriend

gawddamn

what snaps you out of your daze was san suddenly pointing at you

"san what are you doing?"

"youuuuuu... are soooooo... not me"

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

oh he's so far gone

i don't think even he knows what he's doing

bro's just saying things

he's literally the walking epitome of speaking to speak

the worst, and i mean absolutely WORST case of asian flush ever

every exposed square inch of his skin is bright red

you're like

panicking trying to get him to sit down

cause he's stumbling around into every person in the bar

he's practically knocking them over like bowling pins

then immediately apologising in the cutest way possible

the second he's made it out of the human mosh pit tho

(╥﹏╥)

you're like (ಠ ''ಠ)

"sannie, honey, why are you crying?"

"i don't know"

sniffle

"i just love you soooooo much..."

"thank you i-"

"like SOOOOO much"

"okay thank you baby-"

"i love you like thissssssss much"

he's holding out his hands

and he's stretching them out as far as possible

and before you know it

oop! he's bear hugging you

his cheek is squished against the top of your head as he's mumbling incoherent words

the only thing you can make out tho is

"i love you so much"

you guys are such goals (;-;)

mingi

okay since we’ve never seen drunk minki

i’m going to go by the endoscopy ep

where he was breakdancing

at first he was convincing gaslighting you that he was fine

because fine means stumbling around and not even being able to walk in a straight line

but whatever suits him! :p

no seriously

he could not walk properly for the LIFE of him

he was crashing into strangers and waiters alike here and there

and by crashing

i mean practically throwing himself onto them

but the second he stands back up

he’s back to yelling into their faces that he’s sober

like mingi…

no one believes you

(￢_￢;)

you were following him right on his tail

frantically apologising to everyone he disturbed

and he’s bopping his head

he’s jamming!!!!!! 乁( • ω •乁)

he’s in his own little world

which is so adorable you almost want to cry :-(

but by the time you have to leave

and he’s STILL dancing around

you have to start pulling aggressively on his arm

he won’t go otherwise

he could stay there all night just to prove a point

the point?

that he’s sober

yes he’s still on that topic

because he’s 100% NOT drunk!!!!!!!!!!

“mingi we have to go-”

“BUT BRUNO MARS IS ON”

“MINGI ITS NOT EVEN BRUNO MARS ITS JUSTIN BEIBER”

“…o yea! ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ”

sigh moment from you

“i want bruno mars thoooooo do you fink i can request for bruno marsssss??????”

“no”

“why not!!!!!! ;-(”

“cause we have to go (˘∀˘)/(ㅠ~ㅠ)”

pushing him out of the bar now

he’s a fun person to be around when you’re drunk as well tho

wooyoung

witch cackle amplified by 2611%

it’s so funny tho

he laughs over literally NOTHING

a stranger walking in the bar?

HILARIOUS

someone passing by?

howling on the floor

the toilet door opening?

he’s wiping away tears

hongjoong tripping over a chair in his drunken state?

he’s getting a 10 pack at this rate

to be fair

you also cackled at poor hongjoong pretending like his dignity didn’t just get absolutely annihilated

at the same time

he’s also just fumbling around

he’s not very sober

like

not sober enough to recognise you

“oooooooh you’re soooooooo good looking we should go outttt”

“wooyoung this is the fifth time tonight we’ve been together for over a year”

“say whaaaaaaaaaat???!!!!?!!?!”

starts coddling you after that

he’s so sweet but in a loud way

well

louder than usual

cant stop kissing you (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

no literally

i’m not exaggerating

he will CHASE you around the pub to kiss you if needed

he has done that before (in my head)

“wooyoung people are staring-”

“COME BACK LEMME KISS YOUUUUUUU ε=┌(;･д･)┘”

now

you might be thinking

skits, why would i ever deny kisses from wooyoung????

yeah see

he thinks he’s kissing you

he’s not

he’s biting you

like full on CHOMP CHOMP CHOMPERS

it’s not even cute lil :3 nom noms

ITS LITERALLY FULL ON TEETH RAWRS

so unless you want a chunk of your skin gone

start running! :p

jongho

you really think he's going to be the drunk one?

him??????

bro has not seen a day of being drunk

he could be downing bottles of every kind of alcohol known to mankind

and still be fresh as a daisy

(≖ᴗ≖) ✿

he'd be the one challenging the entire bar into drinking too

he handles his alcohol very well

let's be honest, you're probably the one drunk

he's going to be taking care of you instead

BUT you never told him how he once drunkenly went up to the bar stage

and started shooing off the performers

before flaunting off his vocals

so that was fun

let's say he hypothetically was wasted tho

i'll use the endoscopy ep as an example like mingi

he's just going to be asleep

just

snore mimimimi snore mimimimi

he might wake up like every half hour

and get all confused

but it's so cute :(

like he's just lifting his head up from your lap

◝(´Ｏ｀)◜

probably definitely drooling tho

it's going to be pretty short for him cause he just doesn't get drunk

he's invincible

networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films

[fairlyang]

Starstruck 🕷️

in which miguel is a famous singer that bumped into you, you only knowing who he is because your sister is in love with him

w/c: 11.4K

pairing:famous!miguel x latina!reader

tags: you despise his ass so bad, your sister is a borderline stalker, she makes you tag along to find him, he accidentally knocks you out, 18+ smut. journey starts after that, you forcibly follow him around, change of heart, making out, fingering

notes: this is one of my personal favs bc I loved starstruck the movie by disney sm, just made it mexican/latine 🫶🏼

"I just love Miguel O'Hara." I heard my sister say when I walked into the living room, staring dreamily at the tv.

I widened my eyes and felt one of them twitch, is this girl serious? Again?

I rolled my eyes and walked in front of the tv standing there on purpose, earning myself an immediate yell and groan, "Y/n!!!"

"Oh perdón Saraí, am I blocking your view of what's his name?" I say and give her a fake pout as her face distorts in pure annoyance. Score. (Sorry)

"Mhmm," she mumbles with a nod and continues, "Entonces muévete o yo te muevo hermanita." she warns and I just roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen. (So move or I'll move you little sister)

Just then our parents walk in, my dad with our suitcases and my mom with some laundry she'd just done. "Ya agarren sus maletas." My dad said making me sigh. (Come grab your suitcases)

"Vengan agarrar su ropa para empacar." My mom calls out placing the laundry basket next to Saraí. (Come grab your clothes to pack)

"Nos vamos al aeropuerto mañana después de que salgan de sus clases." She adds making Saraí squeal, hurting my poor ears. (We're leaving to the airport tomorrow after you guys get out of your classes)

I open the fridge and take out the carton of orange juice, placing it on the counter then walking over and open the cabinet, grabbing a glass. I freeze watching Saraí take out my clothes and make faces at them. This girl-

"In less than twenty-four hours I'll be in California where Miguel lives!!!" She says excitedly making me raise an eyebrow.

I walk back to the counter and pour myself a glass. I take a sip while Saraí just keeps going, "what if he picks me up at the airport-"

I burst out laughing, the juice immediately spilling all over the place while I quickly shut my mouth and wipe the remnants off the side of my face. "Bitch why the fuck would he do that?!?" I say after calming down still giggling to myself.

She quickly turns to me and glares, "I'm like his number one fan, I follow all his accounts, listen to every single song and keep track of everything he's doing on his blog." I blink at how absolutely insane my sister sounds when she adds, "Te aseguró, el me quiere conocer." (I assure you, he wants to meet me)

Just then my mom walks in behind me and I turn to her desperately, "ya es muy tarde para ser la única hija?" (Is it too late to be the only daughter?)

"Si." She says not even turning to look at me. (Yes)

"Entonces por favor me puedo quedar?" I plead and she finally looks up from her phone. (So can I please stay home)

"No."

"Porque?" (Why?)

"Porque tu abuela no te ha visto en dos años y estás son tus vacaciones." She says and brings a hand up to my cheek.

My dad walks in and chuckles at my sad state, "y que jovencita va reclamar de ir a California?" He says and laughs. (And what young woman is going to complain about going to California?)

I sigh and shake my head, "pero tiene que ser con ella." (but it has to be with her)

Suddenly Saraí shushes all of us and leans in, her eyes wide as she turns the volume up on the Mexican news channel talking about this man.

I walk behind her and cross my arms against the chest watching the fucking news segment this dude got after getting awards at the Latin American Music Awards. There he was carrying four awards in his arms as he was giving a speech on the red carpet.

"Les quiero decir muchas gracias a los fans que me han apoyado durante toda mi carrera, los amo mucho." He says and shines a bright smile directly into the camera. (I just wanna say thank you to all the fans that have supported me throughout my whole career, I love you so much)

"Es tan increíble." Sara sighs and smiles up at the tv. (He's so incredible)

"Definitivamente no es increíble." I say and shake my head. (He definitely is not incredible)

"Um claro que si lo es, y si tu lo conocías como yo lo conozco, no dirías eso." She says turning her head to look at me. (Um of course he is, and if you knew him like I knew him, you wouldn't say that)

"Estas loca? Vivimos en Michigan, tu no lo conoces." I spit out and roll my eyes. This bitch is crazy. (Are you crazy? We live in Michigan, you do not know him)

"Pero lo se, yo sé todo sobre el." She says facing back to the tv. (But I do know, I know everything about him)

"I know where he works, eats, shops, surfs, and parties." She says and sinks into the couch.

I groan and walk out of the living room heading to my room, she's going to be so insufferable.

It was the next day and I was stood by Saraí and her friend, Lina as I was telling her about going to the campus-wide dance one of the fraternities was holding soon. She laughed in my face and shook her head, "No estas invitada hermana." (You're not invited sister)

"Como que no- it's a campus-wide dance." I say and roll my eyes. (What do you mean-)

"Y tu no bailas- qué vergüenza." She says and elbows Lina. (And you don't dance- how embarrassing)

"You won't have to worry about that, I'll just be there to write for the school newspaper..." I tell her and roll my eyes.

"Oh..." She says and I chuckle. Bet she feels somewhat bad now.

"Oh vas a llevar tu cámara contigo a California?" Lina asks and Saraí turns her attention to her. (Oh are you gonna take your camera with you to California?)

"Lina, por supuesto que me lo voy a llevar." She says and grins. (Of course I'm going to take it)

"Porque todavía necesitamos más fotos de Miguel...." Lina says taking out a fucking scrapbook with a picture of said man and I feel my eye twitching again. (Because we still need more pictures of Miguel...)

Are all the girls insane???

"Hablando, caminando, cantando, bailando, moviéndose, respirando... todo posible." She adds and I was just dumbfounded. (Talking, walking, singing, dancing, moving, breathing. Anything possible)

They are insane.

"Porque están tan obsesionadas con este tipo?" I ask and they both immediately turned to look at me in disgust. (Why are you both so obsessed with this guy?)

"Este tipo?!?!" Lina exclaims, her eyebrows knitted in a deep cut glare at me. (This guy?!?!)

"Mhm. Ahora ves con que vivo." Saraí retorts and rolls her eyes at me. (Now you see with what I have I live with)

"Pobre de ti." Lina mutters making me laugh. (Poor you)

Saraí turns to me and gives me a smile, "Hermanita cuando estemos en California, tu puedes jugar lotería con abuela, pero yo voy a conocer a Miguel O'Hara." (Little sister when we're in California, you can play bingo with grandma, but I'm going to meet Miguel O'Hara.)

"Y cómo estás planeando hacer eso?" I ask and chuckle. (And how are you planning on doing that?)

Suddenly Lina opens the scrapbook and in the first pages is filled with notes, scribbles, hearts. "Pues hemos trazado cada uno de sus movimientos durante los últimos dieciocho meses." She says, acting as if this isn't the most psychotic thing ever imaginable. (Well we've traced every one of his movements for the past eighteen months)

"Yo sé cuándo y dónde es probable que esté cada segundo de cada día." Saraí says too casually. (I know when and where he's likely to be every second of every day)

"About the time we'll be leaving for LA, he'll be having his daily meeting with his managers." She says and they both sigh looking off into the distance. Freaks.

"Do not fucking tell me you brought homework to California-" Saraí says looking at me dumb-smacked.

"No- I am reading, you should try it some time." I tell her and snort.

"I read-"

"These-" I start and turn behind me to grab one of her hundreds of magazines, "are fucking pictures, this doesn't count."

She gasps and quickly smacks my hand away, grabbing her magazine back. She gives me a glare and then looks out to the parking lot, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. "Why are they dragging ass-"

"Ugh just get me a car so I can go meet Miguel O'Hara!!" She squeals and I look behind her and shrug.

"You can't drive." I say and she scoffs.

"Yes I can, I have my license dumbass." She snorts and I shake my head.

"No you can't, sign!" I say and point behind her.

She turns around and reads the sign that says you have to be at least 25 to rent a car from the specific rental we were by. And so sad she barely turned 23 a few months ago.... "What?"

"How am I meant to go out and about-"

"Y hacer que?" My dad asks, as he and my mom walk towards us. (And do what?)

"Llevar a mi hermanita de turismo!!" She says and quickly walks over to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. (Take my little sister sightseeing!!)

"Creo que tu abuela tiene un carro que te puede prestar." He says and she lets go of me and sighs. (I think your grandma has a car you can borrow)

"Gracias a Dios." She mutters making me snicker. (Thank god)

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

We arrived at my grandma's house and right as my dad parked my mom took off her seat left and got out of the car because grandma was on step stools cutting off leaves off a hedge which of course put mom on edge.

We all followed with her besides Saraí staying in the car, and grandma came down with the help of a man we haven't seen before. "Mija cálmate estoy bien-" (calm down I'm okay)

My mom stood behind her watching her as the man helped her down, "Héctor me estaba ayudando!" She says with a wide smile as she gives my mom a hug. (Héctor was helping me!)

When grandma pulled away my mom just gave her a look and she just innocently smiled then went on to give my dad a hug. I walk over to her and immediately go in for a hug, "Abuela te extrañe!!" I say and squeeze her gently. (Grandma I missed you!)

She hugs me back then pulls away bringing a hand up to my cheek, lightly pinching. "Yo también te extrañe mi angelita." She says and grins. (I missed you too my little angel)

She then turns to Saraí admiring grandma's 2012 baby pink Volkswagen Beetle. "Saraí la puedes usar cuando gustes." Grandma tells her making Saraí just nervously laugh. (You can use her whenever you'd like)

"No me van a encontrar muerta en esta cosa-" she says and groans, almost throwing a hissy fit. (You wont catch me dead in this thing)

"Entonces nos vas acompañar a jugar lotería?" I joke and she glared at me but it had grandma giggling. (So does that mean you'll be joining us to play bingo?)

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

I walked into the room Saraí was sleeping in because grandma was saying she was pacing too much. "Abue dice que te calmes, que vas hacer un agujero en el piso." I say and she stops to look at me with crazy eyes. (Grandma says to calm down, that you're gonna make a hole on the floor)

"I just got off the phone with Lina who saw a tweet about a blog account who got a text about Miguel O'Hara. He's singing at Lyla's birthday party. I have to go-" she rants and I blink. Who the fuck is Lyla- actually it's better I don't ask...

"Good luck convincing mom and dad." I say and walk away from her doorway.

"Come with me." She says and I turn back around.

I scoff and shake my head, leaning against the doorway staring at her not a slightest bit shocked. "No."

"Si tu vas conmigo me van a dejar ir!!" She says and and I roll my eyes. (If you go with me they'll let me go!!)

"Y yo para que quiero ir-" I say then stop, "ya me hartaste de tu mentado Miguel O'Hara-" (And why would I wanna go? You've made me tired of your mentioned Miguel O'Hara-)

"I'll shut up."

"What?"

"If you come with me and I meet Miguel, I'll shut up about him.... For the rest of our trip." She pleads and I bite my lip.

"Mejor por el resto de tu vida." I mutter and she looks at me expectantly. (better yet for the rest of your life)

"Please."

"Fine."

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

She drove us down to apparently some popular club Miguel was at and I really couldn't believe my older sister had stalker tendencies like this. It was absurd.

But not as absurd as fucking parking where it clearly says no parking zone. "Dude can you really not read??!?" I ask and she waved me off as she slipped out of the drivers seat and into the back to change.

"It's fine. If one person is in the car it isn't even parking it's just waiting." She says and I roll my eyes.

"Just get behind the wheel!!" She demands and i scoff.

I do so anyway and carefully maneuver to the drivers seat while she's singing to a song on the radio. God her not talking about him for the rest of the trip is not going to be enough-

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

We hear a loud car engine and she quickly popped up from the back seat and looked over to the entrance. She gasps and quickly straps her heel on. "It's him!"

She quickly opens the door and gets out slamming it shut before opening it up again and peeps her head through. "Just stay here! Don't move a muscle." She says blowing me a kiss then slams the door shut again.

I hear her squeal and watch as she walks across the street to the front of the club. She walks over to some guy kissing his cheeks then poses for some cameras. Oh god-

I slap my hand over my forehead cringing at the sight then see as she tugs him away inside, but she didn't even have to wait in line so maybe this won't take so long....

A brunette following close behind them with an annoyed look on her face. I sigh and turn my body towards the steering wheel and changing the radio stations to not have to hear that man's voice.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

I look down at my phone and realize it's midnight and I've been sitting here waiting like a fucking fool for half an hour. I groan and grab my bag, I turn the car off and take the keys out. I open the door and get out, gently closing the door then lock it. I'll just quickly find her and we can go back home.

I get to the sidewalk and swing my bag over my shoulder as I make my way to the stoplight. I walk over to the street where the club was and mentally wish I hadn't agreed to this. The line was so long.

I get to the street where the back of the line was and roll my eyes. There has to be another entrance.

I make my way past the people and walk towards an alleyway right next to the club. Surely there's another entrance here.

I walk in the middle of the alley my eyes searching for a door when I finally spot one. I go to open it when the door hits me and I fall back onto my ass. "Fuck-" I groan and hold onto my head.

"Did I just hit you?" A voice asks and I roll my eyes.

"Nahhh the door hit me by itself." I respond sarcastically and roll my eyes.

"This is not good." The guy muttered and i scoff.

"For you or for me? Because right now this feels worse for me." I snap and rub my head slowly. Shit, that was gonna leave a mark.

"This is really not good." He mutters making me furrow my eyes in confusion.

Then the realization hit.

"Wait...."

"You're Mig-" I start then a hand is covering my mouth before I can even finish.

"I will give you merch and tickets to my next concert if you don't scream my name-"

I shove his hand away from me and scoff. "I don't want any of that shit-"

He lifts his hands up in defense and cocks an eyebrow up. "Okay.. I need to get you to a doctor...." He mumbled just then we hear a car engine and he carefully helps me up.

He then goes down and grabs my phone and keys before grabbing my hand. "What about Saraí-" I mumble and widen my eyes realizing I just left her.

"Whose Saraí?"

"My sister- she's in the club." I say and curse under my breath. She's gonna be so mad.

He holds my hand and leads me towards the car where a man gets out of the car and walks over to us, "Miguel what did you do-"

"Just help now and I'll tell you later Peter." Miguel tells Peter and lets me go.

Peter puts his hand behind my back leading me to the passenger seat and helps me inside the car. He leans down to look at Miguel and I just look back and forth between both men. "Who is this?" Peter asks confused wanting some kind of clarity.

"Seatbelt." Miguel looks to me and Peter hands it to me while Miguel places my things on my lap.

"Y/n." I say and take the seatbelt and buckle it.

"Pues mucho gusto conocerte." He says and I roll my eyes. (Well nice to meet you)

"Ningún gusto para mi." I mutter and Peter snickers to my right. This white man understands Spanish? (It's not nice for me) 

I look at Miguel and he just gives me a smile, his teeth were a bit crooked but very white. The crookedness was kinda cute-

Wait- what the fuck am I thinking?!

Then I feel my stomach gurgle and I widen my eyes, "I don't feel too good..."

"Don't puke on May I just got her fixed up!!" Peter says and I nod.

"Okay." I mumble then lean over to the side and puke my guts out.

After my stomach was emptied my throat felt so patchy and disgusting and I sat back up onto the seat and leaned against the head rest. "Not my favorite converse!!!" Peter groans and I feel bad but physically feel off.

"I'll get you new ones- close the door-" Miguel says and Peter complains some more but closes the door.

"Keys." He says and I hand them to him.

"Make sure her sister Saraí get home okay." Miguel tells Peter and hands him the keys to my grandma's car. Oh fuck-

"Don't tell anyone about this." He tells him and Peter waves him off look down at the mess on his shoes.

"What's she look like? What's she wearing?" He asks and I cough.

"Uhh like an older version of me... except with dark red hair and she's wearing a.... Mm oh dark purple dress." I say almost forgetting what she wore as if she wasn't making me look at every outfit she wanted to wear.

"What did she dress up as Starfire on purpose?" He joked and I chuckle.

"I should've made her wear green instead for Poison Ivy-" I say letting out a laugh then Miguel interrupts and turns the car on.

"Just find her and make sure she gets home, please." He tells Peter and then drives away.

We got to a nearby hospital unseen which I guess was good for Miguel. I was sat in a bed looking at a light the doctor was making me follow. I looked at it left and right then she pulled away. "The scans came out fine and you look good to go." She says and gives me a smile.

"So she's okay?" Miguel peeps his head through the door and the doctor scolds at him.

"Out."

He closes the door and the doctor proceeds to tell me I don't have a concussion which was a surprise to me considering I was hit on the head with a fucking door.

"Then why'd I throw up?" I ask and the doctor chuckles.

"Maybe something you ate earlier," she says then quickly adds, "or maybe just meeting this latoso." (Annoying fuck)

I laugh then close my mouth when Miguel pops in and glares at the doctor. I mean it shouldn't be normal that a doctor talks shit like this but I couldn't help but find it funny... plus was she really wrong.. "you have to know each other right? No way a doctor would just talk about someone like this." I say and laugh as Miguel walks in with his hands on his hips.

"My brother's wife." Miguel says and smiles.

"So I can go now...."

"Yes just make sure to ice it until you get home." She says and I nod.

She hands me an ice pack, smiles and excuses herself when Miguel's phone rings. And he just lets it ring. "No vas a contestar o que...." (So you're not gonna answer or what....)

Then he walks out leaving the door ajar and answers the call. I sigh and look down at the floor while I leave the ice pack on my head. How did this end up happening to me of all people?

Suddenly I see the doctor come back through the little window on the door and I see her telling Miguel something. That we can't leave because there's guys with cameras in the lobby...

How the fuck does a hospital just let those people come inside......

Then they start talking about a switcharoo and I sigh. This was going to be such a long night.

They ended up doing the swap and we ended up with a rusty car that had us bumping up and down with every movement. And with every time he'd stop, our bodies would move forehead then harshly back. I groaned when my head hit the head rest and Miguel coughs. "It's not so bad..."

"Don't fucking lie." I say and laugh.

"Just listen to the engine it's fucked." I mutter, staying quiet to hear the rumbling.

"We'll be fine." He says and takes a hand off the wheel to wave me off.

Then there's a loud bang, almost sounding like a gunshot making me yell and hit my elbow. "Chingesumadre-" I groan and bite my lip. (Motherfucker)

"Cálmate!" (Calm down)

"No me digas que me calme- ya llévame a mi casa!" I whine and groan. (Don't tell me to calm down- just take me home!)

"Okay!!" I exclaim and smack his arm with my left hand.

"Que te pasa?!?" He yells and I roll my eyes. (What is wrong with you?!?)

"Nomas quiero ir a casa y ya!!" I whine and he groans. (I just wanna go home and that's it!!)

"I'll take you there!!" He says then quietly adds, "soon enough..."

"What are we doing here?!?" I ask and he holds a finger to my lips for a second then grabs my hand leading me up the stairs.

"Oh so now you're hiding me-"

"Yes I am! Do you wanna be tomorrows main event for Univision?!?" He mutters and I groan following him up.

"Well no-"

"Pues para con tus berrinches y sube." He demands but I just comply. (Stop throwing a fit and go up)

We go up like three floors worth of stairs and we finally reach the top, "big ass house." I mutter making him chuckle.

He leads me to a bedroom and opens the door before letting me go inside. I sigh and go in, admiring the tall ceiling, color scheme, and decor for only a few seconds before I turn to look at him. "Be my guest- Ahorita vengo." He says and walks a step back then turns to look at me. (I'll be right back)

"Just stay put." He says and I roll my eyes.

I bring my hands up to my chest and fold my hands as if they're paws, "woof."

He groans and walks away closing the door behind him leaving me alone in this big guest bedroom. I shake my head in disbelief that this is my life and not my sister's. I didn't ask for this.

I sit down on the bed and put the ice pack on the bedside table. I then lay back on the bed, having my feet hang off the bed to not dirty these probably expensive comforter and blankets. I sink my head into the cloud like pillow and sigh.

Left alone with my thoughts I realize he didn't seem like an asshole or like he was acting a certain way for the tabloids, he seemed somewhat normal. Empathic, somewhat funny. And even I couldn't deny how gorgeous he was but with all the nonstop chatter Saraí has blabbed on about him for months on end I didn't wanna hear or see anything about him again.

At least after he takes me home...

He had the prettiest smile and thank god I had the urge to throw up before I let myself melt into his gaze earlier. God that would've been so embarrassing for me.

And his eyes.

Brown eyes but up close and in the light there were specs of light brown. Almost like a pool of honey. So warm and pretty.

Suddenly I hear some cheers and take notice there's a balcony door. I shrug and get up and walk over to it. Might as well.

I open it and walk out to the small patio and look down at what looks to be a party.... With Miguel sitting down in front of the pool playing the guitar. I was high up but because the crowd was so silent I was able to hear his voice clearly.

I mean deep down I knew I liked a few of his songs, hell maybe even had one or two saved in some playlist but actually hearing his voice, singing without a microphone or him wearing ear pieces to hear himself- it was mind blowing how he was able to sound almost identical.

Besides the occasional breeze rattling the trees making it harder for me to hear him. It sounded like he was singing the chorus and I lean against the railing and listen closely.

Love dovey lyrics, soft tone, nice strums of his guitar. Not too bad.

Suddenly he looks up at me and gives me that smile after finish the chorus, I try to ignore the way my stomach was doing flips and give him the smallest smile possible.

He looks away from me and back to the crowd making me let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I calm myself down as his strumming slows down and he hits the final note, instantly earning himself an applause.

I take that as my sign and I walk out of the patio and into the bedroom. I quickly fix the bed then walk out and head towards the stairs. I go down the stairs fast and careful, and after a good minute I made it to the main floor but there's already lots of people all around and mostly by the front door.

I freeze and look to my right to see a side door so I hope for the best and walk towards it. I open the door and slide in unnoticed only to be met with a garage and five different cars. Damn.

I sigh and walk in front of the cars not even sure how I'll get home. Lord this was such a long night-

Suddenly the door opens and I prepare for the worst which it was, being Miguel. God now he's gonna be thinking I was trying to be nosy on purpose...

"A donde vas?" He asks walking in and shutting the door shut behind him. (Where are you going?)

"A la casa? I think I've overcome my stay." I say and shrug. (Home?)

And I really don't want to explain all of this to my family...

"Alright pick a car." He says and motions to his variety of cars.

I scoff and roll my eyes then turn my head to the last car, a red supra. It looked gorgeous.

Well since he was offering...

I hear him laugh and I stride over to the car. I made my way to the passenger seat and I couldn't believe I was going to ride in a car like this... I mean me of all people?

He unlocks the car and I carefully open the door then hop in. The interior was so nice to look at and it even smelled nice, maybe it was new. I'm sure Saraí would know..

He hops in and turns the car on, revving the engine a little making my eyes go wide. Damn.

I didn't know too much about cars but I knew if they looked sexy on the outside and sounded like that then they were definitely good.

He opens the garage and asks me for the address which I happily tell him to get there as fast as possible but he said he wasn't planning on driving fast, which I thought defeated the purpose of practically having a race car but he said it was because he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. So dumb.

As if we weren't riding in a fucking apple.

He drives and we're sat in silence which I didn't mind so I can quickly think of an excuse as to why I abandoned my sister and not the other way around...

And to try to ignore my growing attraction to this man... because why the fuck did he have to look good driving?

I shook my thoughts away and pressed my now melted ice pack on my head, I won't turn out like my sister. I can't.

He turns the radio on and coincidentally one of his songs started playing. And it had to be one that I actually liked...

He hums the lyrics and I just turn my head to look out the window and mouth the words but making sure to not let out any noise. It was a decent song, a duet he sings with another artist that had such a beautiful melody and perfect guitar playing in the background.

Well I couldn't deny how pretty the song actually was, and he had a decent voice too...

But my way of thinking is different from Saraí, she is obsessed with this man and everything about him. But I can appreciate a song or two. To myself. And never out loud because I wouldn't hear the end of it....

We spent the rest of the car ride like that, except whenever a song that wasn't his, I'd actually start to quietly sing to it. I just couldn't bring myself to sing to his knowing deep down it'd be hypocritical of me to.

I finally saw the familiar street of my abuela's house and he pulls up to the driveway. He parks and we sit in silence for a few seconds. "Listen I was just wanted to apologize-"

"No need, it was an accident. It happens I guess." I say and shrug, undoing my seatbelt.

"Now you can go back to your lavish amazing life and I'll go back to mine." I say turning to face him and give him a forced smile.

He sighs and shakes his head, "eres tan difícil." (You're so difficult)

"No te preocupes, no me vas a tener que ver después de esto." I snarl and roll my eyes. (Don't worry, you won't have to see me after this.)

"Thanks for the ride and see you never." I mutter and open the door.

I get out and close the door shut without turning back and walk along the side entrance of the house.

I sigh opening the door and walk straight to the kitchen. I open the fridge and get myself a cold water bottle then open it before chugging half of it down when I hear a knock on the window by the front door.

I sigh and close the water bottle, leaving it by a coffee table before walking on over to the window. I move the curtain and groan, I quietly open the window and feel my eye twitch. "Leave-"

"I will give you five thousand dollars if you can do me a favor." Says the man who I didn't want to see ever again.

"It's not a favor if you're paying for it." I scoff making him grin.

"So you'll do it?" He asks and I roll my eyes.

I open the garage door for him and as soon as his supra can go in he slides in almost making me scold him in case it fell down or something but I kept my mouth shut.

He parks then gets out of the car and walks on over to me, "you'll be gone before the morning, right?" I say and he just chuckles.

"No one will even know I was here." He says and I roll my eyes as I got on a step stool to reach for a blanket.

"I will unfortunately know." I say and hit it on his head making him groan.

"Thanks." He responds sarcastically giving me a face and catches the blanket.

"'Course."

"Is there anything I can wear para que los chismosos no me reconozcan?" He asks and I shrug, lazily pointing to the boxes behind him. (so the annoying paparazzi won't recognize me?)

"You can check inside those." I mutter slowly feeling the tiredness creep in. "But is this really necessary." I add and he just groans.

"You've got no idea." He says then opens the top one, going through whatever is inside until he picks up a black baseball cap that had a small Mexican flag on the side.

I recognize it and frown but then smile at the memories of my grandpa always wearing it when he's mow the lawn, or plant his vegetables. It was his favorite thing in the world and of course had to have his flag on it.

"Era de mi abuelo, siempre se lo ponía cuando arreglaba su jardín." I tell him and look at the hat in his hands. (It was my grandpa's, he'd always wear it when he worked on his garden)

"Oh- perdón-" he murmurs and quickly takes it off but I wave him off. (sorry)

"Esta bien- te queda un poco bien." I reassure and give him a small smile. (It's okay- it fits you kind of good)

My words versus my expression were somewhat contrasting one another but he just chuckles and puts it back on.

"So are you all good?" I ask and he nods.

"I think so." He answers and looks back at his car.

I'm sure he'll be sleeping like a baby in there...

"Alright well goodnight-" I start to say and was about to walk off when he grabs my arm.

"Y/n." I turn to look at him and he starts to smile, I swore his eyes were sparkling-

"Stop doing that." I say and shake my head. I need to stop too..

"Doing what?" He asks making me roll my eyes. He cannot be serious...

"Ya lo sabes- y más seguro se lo haces a todas." I start and then feel myself stuttering as well as feeling nervous. (You know it- and you probably do it to all the girls.)

"Les haces..." I say and motion to his face making him grin, leaning in, "esa cara y expertas que todas se enamoren de ti." (You do... that face and expect all the girls to fall in love with you)

I take a step back and cross my arms against my chest, "pero no va funcionar para mi, entonces vas a tener que soportar." With the final word I walk to the door and press the button to close the garage then walk out. (But it won't work on me so you'll just have to deal with it)

It was the next morning and I had completely forgotten that Miguel slept in my grandmas garage until said grandma told Saraí that the news was doing a story on Miguel.

I rolled my eyes then quickly came to the realization of last nights events and ran to the living room beating her to it. I try to grab the controller until I feel her on top of me and her hands gripping the other half of the controller. "Que te pasa wey- you don't even like him!!!!" She exclaims and I let out fits of coughs to try to be louder than the tv. (What is with you- you don't even like him)

She screams in annoyance and shoves me making me land on the couch. She puts the volume up and excitedly looks at the tv, oh god...

"Lyla llegó a su fiesta de cumpleaños anoche sin su mentado novio. Aunque nadie lo vio llegar al club para la celebración, testigos confirman que Miguel O'Hara hizo una apariencia secreta para cantar para la casa llena de invitados." Says the reporter making me feel sick to my stomach. No one knows. (Lyla arrived to her birthday party without her supposed boyfriend. Although no one saw him arrive at the club for the celebration, witnesses confirm that Miguel O'Hara made a surprise appearance to sing for the full house of invitees)

"Testigos dijeron que el cantante se fue inmediatamente después de cantar una canción, nomás para reaparecer en su mansión de Beverly Hills, horas después, con una diferente chava." My heart drops to my stomach and I suddenly feel nervous and ill. (Witnesses said that the sunder left immediately after singing one song, only to reappear in his mansion on Beverly Hills, hours later, with a different girl)

How the fuck did they know????

My eyes were wide and mouth agape while Saraí next to me was just scoffing and shaking her head. "Mis informantes me dicen que está chava misteriosa tal ves le robó el corazón de nuestro favorito galán musical." I tried my hardest not to gag, especially since mom and abuela were still nearby but god did they really have to exaggerate that much? (My sources/informants fell me that this mystery girl might have stolen the heart of our favorite musical heartthrob)

I then look at Saraí and try to snatch the remote from her again but she yells and tries to get it back. "Que haces?!?" (What are you doing?!?)

"Lo quiero ver!!!" She complains and I just shake my head. (I wanna watch!!)

"Porque? Son puras mentiras y exageran todo posible!!" I say trying not to give myself anyway. (Why? They're all just lies and they exaggerate everything possible!!)

"Y que te importa?! Ni te gusta-" (and why do you care?! You don't even like him-)

"No pero para que quieres caer en mentiras de los reporteros!?!" I say and push the remote towards me but she wasn't budging. (but why do you wanna fall for the lord of those reporters!?!)

"Oigan!! Ya paren!" My dad yells but we still don't stop. (Listen!! Stop that now!)

Suddenly my grandma stands up and reaches behind her to grab her car keys, "ya se! Esta hermoso afuera, saquen el caro y vayan a la playa!" (Oh I know! It's gorgeous outside, take the car out and go to the beach!)

She threw the keys to Saraí who let go of the remote and caught the keys with ease, "gracias abue!!" (thanks grandma!!) 

She skips out of the kitchen until my mom yells at her, "Lleva a tu hermana!!!" (Take your sister!!!)

She groans and stomps her feet on the ground then walks off. My mom turns to me and gives me a look before nodding to where Saraí made her dramatic exit. "Ve." (Go)

And just like that we had made our way to the beach, Saraí found a lucky spot really close to the beach. I took off my seatbelt and got out of the car. "Why are we in Malibu? Weren't we gonna go to Venice?" I ask and she rolls her eyes as she gets out and walks to the trunk of the car.

"Because Miguel surfs in Malibu." She says matter-of-factly earning herself a glare.

Jesus she's obsessed.

She gets the beach chair she got for herself and closes the trunk then locks the car. I follow her lead as she squeals and looks left to right. On the lookout.

"Today is the day- I feel it in my bones, he's here." She says and I just chuckle.

"Sure he is." I say sarcastically but she just ignores me.

"I'm praying he's not with Lyla, she's not pretty enough for him." She says making me laugh. Damn.

"I wonder what his eyes look like.... Like really up close...." She rambles and lets out a sigh.

"Chocolate brown. A really pretty brown." I imply but she just completely ignores me and runs off to a random direction.

I stand there watching her leave me and scoff. Sisters.

I sigh and take a look around the beach to see where I can sit and just chill without her nagging me about that man anymore.

Suddenly I see something familiar out of the corner of my eye and I look around me and see that no one has noticed what I have.

I shrug and stroll on over to a man sitting by himself next to an empty chair, "hey is this seat taken?"

I walk behind the chair and place my bag on the floor, taking a seat ignoring that he didn't respond. "Don't mind if I do." I tell the man and sigh.

"Esta tan bonito afuera hoy, no crees?" I turn to look at the familiar man who I ended up spending a lot of time with yesterday. (It's so pretty outside today, don't you think?)

He then shifts in his seat and I can't tell if he's recognized me or not but I'll have some fun with this. "Ay perdón estaba dormido- lo desperté?" I ask and smile. (Oh I'm sorry you were asleep- did I wake you?)

He shakes his head and looks down crossing his arms against his chest, as if a small ass hat and little sunglasses are gonna hide his big stature.

"No? Ah que bueno! Me puede poner bloqueador en la espalda?" I ask teaching over to my bag and pulling up a bottle of sunscreen. (That's good! Can you put sunscreen on my back?)

He then turns to look at me and tips his glasses down so I could see his eyes, then laughs and shakes his head. "Como sabías que fui yo?" He asks and gives me that smile I've now seen plenty of times. Jesus. (How'd you know it was me?)

"La cachucha." I respond and look up at my grandpas hat. (The hat)

"It smells like grass." He says making me chuckle.

"Might just be you." I reply and he laughs.

He gives me another smile before taking off his glasses and turning to face me, "what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? Go home." I joke and he sighs.

"I tried...."

"And?"

He looks away and waves me off, "no lo entenderías." (You wouldn't understand)

I scoff and roll my eyes, "ahh entonces crees que eres tan especial que alguien normal como yo no podría entender que difícil es ser tu?" (so you think that you're so special that someone normal like me isn't able to understand how hard it is to be you?)

He laughs then shrug, turning his head to face me again, "hay diez carros de los chismosos afuera de mi casa." (there's ten cars filled with paparazzi outside my house)

"Damn.... That's fucked..." I mutter and refrain from saying something stupid.

He hums in agreement and we sit there in silence for a few seconds before he speaks again, "necesito un carro que ellos no reconozcan para ir a las casa." (I need a car that they don't recognize so I can go home)

I hum and fight the urge to offer our car, I couldn't even imagine him driving abuela's baby pink beetle. He definitely wouldn't fit in it anyway.

Then he looks me up and down, plotting something and asks, "que estás manejando tu?" (what are you driving?)

I grin and lean towards him, "oh you'll love it, it's a classic. Really pretty."

I bite my lip to not laugh and he smiles, "perfect I could pay you-"

"Stop- stop doing that-"

"Stop doing what?”

"Throwing your money around like that. Todavia me debes cinco mil por quedarte en el garaje de la abue." I say and he chuckles. (You still owe me five thousand for staying at my grandma's garage)

He smiles at me and I smile back, "give me your keys." I say and bring my hand up to him and motion for him to give me them.

"Why....." he asks and raises an eyebrow. As if he couldn't trust me.

I could've easily asked for more money... I really should've..

"Well if you're gonna have our car you can't just leave us without one." I say and he hesitates.

His face crunches up and it really looks like he's about to change his mind. He cannot be serious....

He reaches down to his pocket and grabs his keys, I open then close my hand ready to snatch em as soon as he gives them to me. He brings them up and right as I was gonna close my hand he pulls them away. I give him a look and he gives me one right back. "Okay listen-" I try to grab them but he pulls them back.

"She's a-" I try to snatch them again but he brings his hand up. Oh my fucking god-

"She's a three hundred and twenty horsepower-" he brings his hand down slightly and I try to grab it but again he moves it. This piece of shit-

"1998 model-" Hand comes back down and I quickly try to grab it but again no use.

"Brand new wrap-" He moved his hand making me groan.

"Look I love Gabi okay?" He says with such a serious look and tone.

"Gabi?"

He nods and I prevent the urge to roll my eyes at him, "you name your cars?"

He nods again hesitantly and I now grab the keys from his hand. I give him a look then roll my eyes getting up and walking over to where Saraí was tanning.

I tip toed to her which didn't matter because she had headphones on and eyes were closed. Perfect.

I grab the keys to grandma's car then slide in Miguel's keys before making my way back to him.

I motion for him to follow me and he stands up, jogging over to me as I lead him to his hot new ride. I walk us towards where the beetle is with Miguel on my tail and still on the lookout.

I then stop in front of the car and grin up at him, "Miguel meet Petunia."

He stops and blings his sunglasses down, face disgusted. "Bring her back within the next hour." I tell him and grab his hand, putting the keys on his hand while letting out giggles.

Suddenly he grabs me and pulls me down, hiding us behind the car while mumbling to himself. "How the hell did they find me-" he says grabbing my hand and making me follow him to be by the hood of the car.

"Oh please my sister found you easily and we're from Detroit." I mumble and he turns to look at me for a second with a puzzled look and I just shrug.

We then hear the sound of vans pulling up to the parking lots and doors opening with people talking. He lets go of my hand and takes his glasses off, "here put them on."

I take them and look at them for a few seconds before he gives me a look, "Now. And get in."

I lift my hands up in fake defense and put them on as  he goes to the drivers seat. I walk on over to the passenger seat and fix the glasses when the door opens and hits me in the face.

I fall back and I quickly get up to glare at him through the window, "you cannot be serious- quit fucking hitting me O'Hara." I hiss and he shoots me an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry- I'm sorry- get in- get in-" he mumbled and I roll my eyes, opening the door and hop in.

He then opens the glove compartment and goes through it, "what the fuck are you doing now-"

He shushes me and pulls out a scarf and hands it to me, "put this on."

"Why-"

"Just do it."

"Okay Nike sponsorship." I mutter and wrap it around my head.

He then starts the car and start to reverse, he propped his shoulder up and his head down then leaned over as if he had back issues. I bring the glasses to my nose and hold my breath, sinking int the sink as I felt and heard the paparazzi outside the car thinking he was in here. Which they technically weren't wrong about.

But nonetheless they groaned and pulled the cameras away from the car and us. Thank god.

After leaving the beach I let out a sigh and turn my head to look at him, "manejas como mi abuelo!" (you drive like my grandpa!)

He shifts and gets more comfortable, "Y tu te ves como mi abuela!" He jokes making us both laugh as I looked forward and to the highway while taking off the scarf. (And you look like my grandma)

"Necesito mis lentes." He says and I smile, shrugging feeling his gaze on me. (I need my glasses)

"No se... creo que me gustan..." I say and fix my hair, putting some strands behind my ear. (I don't know.... I think I like them...)

"Te los regalo... al rato." He says and I gasp. (I'll give them to you... later)

"De verdad?!?" I ask then quickly continue trying to mimic Saraí, "mis amigas nunca me lo van a creer que yo, tengo un par de Miguel O'Hara lentes que el mismísimo Miguel O'Hara se a puesto!!" (For real?!? My friends will never believe that I, have a pair of Miguel O'Hara sunglasses that have been worn by Miguel O'Hara himself!!!)

I then gasp and turn my body to face him, "me los firmas porfis?!?" I beg and he just rolls his eyes. (Sign them for me please?!?)

"Te crees bien graciosa eh?" He says making me grin and nod. (You think you're so funny)

"Que?" I tease and give him an innocent smile. "No pero de verdad si quiero estos lentes." I say and look at the dark maroon color of the frames. (What? No but seriously I want those glasses)

"Un huh... dámelos. Come on." He says and does grabby hands. (Give me them)

I sigh and take them off handing them over to him. "So how long am I stuck with you this time?" I ask earning myself a laugh.

"Until the paps leave the beach...." He says then turns to look at me, "let's go do something."

"Like what?" I ask and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Anything. What have you seen since you got here?"

"Nothing. I've been too busy following you around." I say and his eyes bright up.

"Really?" He says in a soft tone and I just playfully roll my eyes.

"With my sister... she idolizes you." I say and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

Why'd it seem like he was disappointed?

I shrug and continue, "I mean I couldn't care less about you or your city."

He gasps and shakes his head in disbelief, "I already knew you didn't like me but you don't have to take it out on Los Angeles. It's a beautiful city."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, yknow what, I'll be your tour guide."

"I thought you were going home..."

"Meh I'll just take the long way." He says and gives me that smile as he puts his glasses back on.

He turns the radio on and just to my luck his song came on. He gives me a grin and I just sigh, relaxing into my seat as he drives us to who knows where.

He ended up taking me to Santa Monica Pier, Venice beach, Rodeo Drive to buy me stuff (which I wasn't complaining about), the walk of fame to see the stars of my actual favorite celebrities, to the Hollywood sign which was huge in person.

He had bought me a Polaroid camera while we were at the pier and ended up using all the film, and he bought me a two pack. Now I just had forty little Polaroid pictures in my purse along with other cute souvenirs.

We were singing along to the songs on the radio when I noticed he drove us back to his house. "Gonna keep me for longer huh?" I tease and chuckle, looking up at the huge mansion he calls home.

He smiles and nods as he parks in front of his house and unlocks the doors. I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door getting out of the car.

I had shocked myself today, actually enjoying myself and letting myself not be so judgmental of Miguel as well as getting to know the real him. He was nice, very sarcastic and somewhat funny. But I'm not gonna admit that to his face.

I was appalled when finding out he wasn't narcissistic or rude and was actually chill and fun to be around. Again not admitting that to his face.

And he was a total gentlemen, opening doors for me, paying for everything even though I kept fighting him on it. It felt like a first date even though our circumstances were just odd and weird. And it technically wasn't even a date.

I followed him inside and he beckoned me over to his living room while he went to get us something to drink. I plopped down on the longer couch and it felt like a cloud.

Didn't even look too luxurious which was a green flag in my books. I laid back and sighed, what have these two days been?

How did this happen to me? And why was I enjoying it more than I thought I would?

Miguel comes back with two glasses and a bottle of wine, I laugh as he sets them on the coffee table in front of me. He pours both glasses and hands me one which I gladly took.

Free wine? Say less.

I take a sip then immediately take another, was pretty good...

He plops down next to me and I turn my body to face him, I couldn't even deny how attractive he was. Not that I did before but he just looked really good today...

Kept giving me that look with those eyes and that pretty smile flashing me his pearly whites that were the smallest bit crooked but still looked pretty.

I take another sip then place the glass on the table and put all my attention to him. "So couldn't get enough of me, you had to bring me back?" I tease and lean my side into the couch.

He laughs and shrugs, "Well I thought we had a fun day..." he says and scoots closer to me.

I nod and try not to react too much, if he moved just a tiny bit more his leg will be touching mine... and I wouldn't even mind.

"And I thought why not continue the fun..." he says and leans in, his face now much closer to mine.

I felt my skin grow warm and tried to calm my breathing. Why was he making me so nervous?

Did one day really just change my entire mindset on him?

"Surely this isn't the wine hitting you already right?" I tease in a softer tone, wanting some kind of reassurance I'm not imagining things. No way I'm delusional after the day we've had...

He laughs then gives me a smile, "it's definitely not the wine."

I hum and nod, my cheeks growing warmer by the second and I just prayed he couldn't see it. This felt so embarrassing.

"Is this okay?" He whispers and scoots until there was no more space between us.

His leg was touching mine and I couldn't trust myself to speak so I only nodded. He then reached over and placed his glass on the table before leaning back on the couch, turning to face me. Why did he have to look so good?

Even better up close-

My thoughts were cut short when I felt him place his hand on my thigh, touching my bare skin. I looked into his eyes noticing he was even closer now, my nerves never leaving my body. I look down to his lips and god I really wanted to kiss him.

As if thinking the same I was, he brought his other hand up to cup my cheek and leans in. I close my eyes and close the gap, kissing him gently. He kisses back instantly and I feel his hand squeeze my thigh then running his fingers up and down making me gasp.

He slides his tongue in and I gladly let him, bring my hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair. I twirl some curls between my fingers then lightly pull on them, earning myself a groan from him.

I felt myself growing more needy, craving more and feeling the familiar heat rising down to my core so I squeezed my thighs together then pulled away for a second and nibbled on his bottom lip. I felt his hand graze my inner thigh, fingers slipping under my shorts making me let out a sigh.

He turned my head and attached his lips to my neck, leaving wet kisses all over while his fingers kept rubbing but not where I needed them most. I tilted my head back and spread my legs to which he slid his hand up and to the zipper of my shorts.

He sucked gently on my skin then kissed it a few times before I felt his hands slip down. I let out a whine and buck my hips up, to which i then felt his touch right above my centre. I squirmed and was about to lay my head back until he grabbed me, moving my body and placed me between his legs.

His hands trailed down my legs slowly then came back up and to my stomach. Thinking he'd stop there I was left shocked seeing and feeling his fingertips work their way between my tits then back down.

I laid my head back against his hard chest and let out a shaky breath. He turns his head to kiss my neck and continue his grazing. I was already breathless and he's barely touched me, I needed him.

"Estas tan hermosa." He whispers in my ear making me whimper and squirm against him, now directly on his crotch. (You're so beautiful)

"Miguel-" I breathe out but cuts me off by pecking my lips softly.

I moan into his mouth then feel his fingers coming back up but this time he groped my tits with both hands. I whined and grind against him as he continues kissing me, leaving me a mess already.

He groans and squeezes them, fondling them in his hands as I kiss him back. Suddenly he brings a hand down, slowly trailing it down my body until he reaches the waistband of my shorts.

He undos it then quickly pulls the zipper down before quickly sliding his hand in and starts rubbing my soaked cunt through my panties. I feel my eyes fluttering as he moves his hand steadily while I bring my left hand to grip his left arm that was now pinching my nipple.

I bite my lip, moving my hips up and down, needing more. "Miguel por favor-" I breathe out and he just hums. (please)

"Dime que quieres nena, te quiero escuchar." He purrs into my ear making me whimper. (Tell me what you want baby girl, I wanna hear you)

"I- fuck-" I mutter and close my mouth with my right hand.

He was now rubbing circles over my clit, so fucking slowly. This piece of shit thought it was nice to tease me like this?!? As if he couldn't feel how badly I wanted this...

"Dime que quieres amor." He murmurs continuing his teasing pace as I buck my hips up but still doesn't change anything. (Tell me what you want love)

"Te necesito Miguel- por favor-" I plead and whimper when he slows down again. (I need you- please-)

"Me necesitas?" He mocks in my ear and I just nod repeatedly as he speeds up the tiniest bit. (You need me?)

"Pero todavía no haz dicho que quieres nena..." he murmurs and leaves a soft kiss on my neck. (But you still haven't said what you want baby girl...)

I felt my eyes flutter and a blush rose to my cheeks, why did he have to sound so perfect?

Just his words alone were enough to make me more wet for him. He was driving me insane.

"N-necesito tus dedos..." I whimper and spread my legs as he moves my panties to the side, "por favor fóllame con tus dedos-" I whine and he slides two of his long fingers inside without another word. (need your fingers, please fuck me with your fingers-)

I gasp feeling them fill me up, surprised to feel how thick they were. I felt my legs shake slightly while I tried to keep my breathing steady considering he was just starting. He was already filling me up so nicely and it felt incredible. "So tight and wet for me baby." He whispers and pumps his fingers inside me, my walls enveloping them.

He worked on my cunt almost expertly, curling them up making me arch my back against him. With his available hand he wrapped it around my waist, as if to make me refrain from moving. "Miguel- M-Miguel-"

He hummed and started going faster, I could feel my creamy juices slip down to my asshole as he went faster and deeper. I let out whines and closed my eyes when I feel his lips on my cheek then on my ear. "Such a pretty mess for me huh baby?"

I whimpered and couldn't help but clench against his fingers making me let out more whimpers. "S-so good-" I moan out and kisses my neck softly.

"I know baby, I know." He murmurs and goes even faster leaving me a moaning mess on top of him.

"Estas tomando mis dedos tan bien princesa." He praised making me whimper and clench against him once again. (You're taking my fingers so well princess)

"Te gusta que te hable así hm?" He teases and I open my eyes only to roll them and bite my lip. (You like when I talk to you like that)

Starting to despise him again, I hated his teasing but couldn't help but like it.

"Contéstame nena." He purrs in a low tone, that making my orgasm quickly approach. (Answer me baby)

"Si- si me gusta mucho- me encanta como me hablas-" I moan out and he slows down but fucks me deeper. (Yes- yes I like it a lot- I love way you talk to me-)

"Good girl." He moans and starts pumping his fingers faster again.

I whimpered and tried to buck my hips up but his strong arm didn't let me and just gripped me to stay still. I held on to it and laid my head back against his chest, then look down at the sight. His fingers fucking me effortlessly with my arousal being the main thing that's being heard in the room. "Aren't you just taking it so well baby?" He purrs and I nod, looking up to look at him.

I crash our lips together and he suddenly starts fucking me even faster making me moan against his mouth. He slides his tongue inside my mouth as I continue moaning and try to kiss back.

I felt the familiar feeling of my orgasm approach in the pit of my stomach as he continued fucking me fast as well as deep. "I'm gonna-" i murmur against his lips and he just hums, continuing with our kiss.

I glide my tongue against his but then stop, letting out whines and whimpers as my orgasm hit me hard with Miguel not stopping. "Fuck- Miguel!" I whimper feeling my legs shaking violently.

He lets me ride my orgasm and slows his pace down as he gives me light pecks while I try to catch my breath. He then pulls away after one final peck and leans his forehead against mine. Not able to keep my eyes open, I lean into his touch, a weak smile forming on my lips. "That was incredible." I say and let out a small giggle.

He nods and grins, "you did so good love."

He kisses me softly and I kiss him back the same way when I feel him slowly slip his fingers out of me. His fingers come out and I feel more of my juices slip down to my asshole, "oh my god baby-" he moans and brings his fingers up to our faces.

I grab his hand and lazily open my mouth, taking his fingers into my mouth and lick my arousal clean. I looked at him and innocently bat my eyes while he groans. I made sure to lick every drop before he finally slips his fingers out and crashes his lips onto mine.

I immediately kiss back and move my body to no longer be on his crotch but on the couch with my legs over his thighs. His tongue slid into my mouth making me melt as I felt one hand go to cup my jaw and the other to my thigh.

He rubbed my skin softly and I felt myself melt into his embrace, "you're incredible." He murmurs against my mouth making me pull away.

I lean my head against his chest as he now wraps both arms around my body, feeling shivers run down my spine. "No you are." I whisper and chuckle.

Then we just sat there in comfortable silence, I was listening to his heartbeat as he played with my hair and my breathing was now back to normal.

"So do you like me now?" He whispers and I burst out laughing.

I then stop and shrug, "maybe a little bit..."

[allyriadayne]

could you talk more about the daynes post robert's rebellion?

SURE

first of, this is mostly my hcs, speculations and a mix of things i must have read back when there was the height of asoiaf meta in 2013 because there is almost nothing about the daynes post robert's rebellion. so bear with me.

just to set the scene, the members of house dayne left after the mess of the rebellion were the unnamed older brother of ashara and arthur, the lord and father of edric; allyria the youngest sister that i headcanon to be much younger than her older siblings seeing as she is betrothed to beric dondarrion who is was in his twenties per agot so i don't think the marriage would've occurred if allyria was in her middle thirties or forties if she was closer to ashara and arthur; edric, twelve years old, beric's loyal squire; and gerold aka darkstar head of high hermitage, also in his twenties? around arianne's age.

(c) Eddie Mendoza for the cover of A Song of Ice and Fire 2025 Calendar

under the cut because i'm crazy

i don't know if the books are ever going to make clear what happened at the toj-starfall zone but we can be sure only that ned went from one to the other with lyanna's bones and supposedly baby jon to return dawn to the daynes. ashara had a baby of father unknown and shortly after ned was there she took her own life, body never found. i go back and forward in thinking if ashara's brother lord dayne was there with her when ned went or if he was one of the dornish commanders defending the targs. in any case, his presence was completely zero during this time so i think he was too injured for a time or too sickly in general to do something to reestablish the dayne name in dorne after arthur being an important part in elia's disgrace and indirectly, her murder.

because yeah after arthur and ashara's death and going by the books there is zero mention of them, even in the chapters set in dorne or others about dornish characters make no mention of them. and it's strange considering that when you read awoiaf and f&b, the daynes are The knights of dorne. queen nymeria marries a dayne, sends a starfall king to the wall, meria martell commands a dayne to burn oldtown, arguably one of the most powerful cities of the time, out of all the sons of daeron ii and myriah martell, maekar marries a dayne, the only dornish lady. it could be nothing OR something but i think it does mean something. we see there's no daynes in oberyn's party in kl or speculation in general about the new sword of the morning beyond remembering dear old arthur. they've fallen completely into obscurity. the house was reduced to a young girl and its child lord.

edric's dad dies before agot (he doesn't seem to afflicted by his death when he meets arya if he were less than a year dead, inheriting the lordship at such a young age would've been dramatic to him), i would say just after becoming a page to beric dondarrion at 7 yo and i headcanon the marriage between beric and allyria was brokered at this time too. this was part of a fic i was writing like 500 years ago but i think lord dayne must have known he would not live too long, not to see edric grow so he must have looked for someone to prepare and take care of allyria and edric after he died. betrothing allyria to a marcher lord is......strange. if a dornish person would have to be married to someone it would go like this 1) not from the reach 2) not from the marches in that order, there is too much bad blood. the daynes have a longstanding tradition of killing oakhearts so marrying allyria to the heir of blackhaven and giving him his only heir, lord dayne entrusted a complete stranger with the future of his house.

beric would've been in charge of teaching young edric just about everything. he would be living in the stormlands for almost half his live, learning from a his maester and how to govern a stormlands' castle. meanwhile, allyria in a few years probably around agot time would be ready to marry beric when she reached her majority. she would've been the defacto ruler of starfall in edric's name when lord dayne dies, i think the idea was to swap when edric gained his spurs: he would return to starfall after a successful run as a tourney knight, probably gaining some recognition from whatever beric was tasked with at the capital (rip king) and then accompany allyria to be married to his knight master. andddd fin.

the thing is. allyria being so young during the rebellion, lord dayne absence for whatever reason and then dying, let the younger members with no connections in the wider dorne political context. it is said young children go to the water gardens and it's fun yeah but it's def a starting point for politics for many lords. it's close to the martells and it's an opportunity to make friends with future rulers, /everyone/ is going. the daynes didn't have this. allyria was probably very young when the rebellion happened (i think no older than 5) and for obvious reasons she was not sent to the water gardens; as for ned, i think lord dayne could not secure an invitation, this or he died too early to even try. if allyria had gone, she would've been for sure one of arianne's companions, she has both the breeding and the standing, but NOT and it's crucial, the reputation. see what arianne has to say in affc about gerold's standing:

"He is highborn enough to make a worthy consort, she thought. Father would question my good sense, but our children would be as beautiful as dragonlords."

it's must be passé to associate with the daynes at this point. think of the conningtons losing all standing when joncon lost the battle and was exiled.

in any case, allyria, more than edric, grew in obscurity. as of the books she's betrothed to a marcher lord nobody knows if he's alive or dead, has a missing nephew and it's in charge of one of the most ancient first men houses of westeros. sad! at least ned is having more fun. which leads me to darkstar. i see his thirst to prove himself, his notoriety as a cruel knight as another way to separate himself from what the main branch has fallen into. he is in his twenties so he was probably affected by the same dark cloud as the others.

"If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great? I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

he wants to have what arthur had, but not be the sword of the morning, he wants something that it's his own, as he says. he may want the sword and the fame like arthur, but not to be associated with another's bad luck so to speak. it's very telling that he's called one of "the most dangerous man in dorne" and what is the sword of the morning if not this? he's a dark mirror of the daynes pre rebellion, just like allyria would've been a renown beauty just like ashara is she wasn't cloistered. something something gerold and allyria as mirrors of what could've happened to ashara and arthur if they hadn't the protection of the monarchy.

i once read gerold is meant to have young ned's plot after germ scrapped the five year time skip and i think this is half true. i do think there is something to be done about dawn the sword and i think gerold is going to steal it and do something with it, something ned can't do because he's /still/ in the riverlands. i don't know what but i think it ties nicely with the theme of deconstructing the noble knight archetype. arthur is only great because he knew how to kill.

writing this i had a breakdown about the parallels between arthur and gerold

to finish this rambling i want to say my hopes for house dayne in what is left of asoiaf is 1) ned alive 2) gerold steals dawn 3) and like. something. honestly i will take anything at this point about allyria. DOES SHE EVEN KNOW? my poor girl and 4) if germ wants to clear the toj situation then it's fine.

thanks for asking and to anyone reaching this point lol. this is mostly general but if you want to talk about anything specific just message me! k thx muah!

[lousypotatoes]

I Want Your Whiskey Mouth

"I want you to love me

Like I'm a hot ride

Be thinking of me

Doing what you like~"

Only Girl (In The World) - Rihanna

Previous Next

"Yo! We're coming at you live from Camp Wawanawka, somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario." said a black-haired man, smiling into the camera.

"I'm your host, Chris McLean, dropping season one of the hottest new reality show on television right now!"

"Here's the deal," Chris said, walking across the dock. "Twenty-three campers have signed up to spend eight weeks right here at this crummy old summer camp. They'll compete in challenges against each other, then have to face the judgement of their fellow campers."

"Every three days, one team will either win a reward or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the Loser Boat," Chris laughed. "And leave Total Drama Island for good."

The camera panned away to a campfire looking setting.

"Their fate will be decided here, at the dramatic campfire ceremonies, where each week, all but one camper will receive a marshmallow," Chris explained, eating one of the marshmallows. "In the end, only one will be left standing, and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame and a small fortune, which let's face it, they'll probably blow in a week."

"To survive, they'll have to battle black flies, grizzly bears, disgusting camp food, and each other." Chris smirked. "Every moment will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp."

"Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here, right now on Total Drama Island!"

Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doing fine

You guys are on my mind

You asked me what I wanted to be

And now I think the answer is plain to see

I wanna be famous

I wanna live close to the sun

Well pack your bags, 'cause I've already won

Nothing to do, nothing in my way

I'll get there one day

'Cause I wanna be famous

Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous~

The camera pans to Chris, still standing on the dock.

"Welcome back to Total Drama Island! All right, it's time to meet our first eleven campers. We told them they'd all be staying at this five-star resort, so if they seem a little t-owed, that's probably why."

The camera panned over to a short girl with her brown hair in a braid, with glasses and braces.

"Beth, what's up?" Chris asked.

Beth ran and gave Chris a hug.

"It's so incredulous to meet you!" Beth exclaimed, getting off of Chris. "Wow, you're much shorter in real life."

"Uh, thanks," Chris said as Beth waved to the camera.

Another boat pulls up to the dock.

"DJ!" Chris called out.

A dark-skinned, muscular guy steps of the boat. He's wearing gray shorts, and a tight green shirt that really shows off his muscles.

"Yo! Chris McLain!" DJ said, high fiving Chris. "How's it going? Hey, you sure you got the right place here? Where's the hot tub at?"

"Yo dawg! This is it! Camp Wawanawkwa!" Chris smiled.

DJ frowned and picked up his bags, walking to the other end of the dock.

"Hm. Looked a lot different on the application form." he said.

"Hey Gwen!" Chris calls.

A pale skinned girl steps off the next boat. Her hair is dyed blue and black, and she's wearing a blue, green, and black corset/shirt, and blue and black shirt, black tights, and black boots.

She does not look happy.

"You mean we're staying here?" Gwen asked snarkily, looking around.

"No, you're staying here," Chris smiled. "My crib is an airstream with AC, that way." he pointed in the opposite direction.

"I did not sign up for this." Gwen angrily said.

"Actually, you did," Chris said, pulling out some paperwork.

Gwen pulled the forms out of Chris' hands and ripped them up and threw them in the lake.

"The great thing about lawyers is, they make lots of copies." Chris smiled, pulling out some more paperwork.

"I am not staying here." Gwen said, picking up her bags.

"Cool, I hope you can swim, though," Chris said. "Because you ride just left."

"Asshole!" Gwen spat.

The next guy to arrive is wearing a pink unbuttoned shirt that shows off his abs, jean shorts, and a large cowboy hat.

"Chris McLain!" the guy said, after doing a literal flip off the boat. "Sup man! It's an honor to meet you man!"

"The Geoffster!" Chris fist bumped him. "Welcome to the island man."

"Thanks man."

"If they say man one more time, I'm gonna puke," Gwen said.

"Everybody," Chris said. "This is Lindsay,"

The girl he was talking about had straight blonde hair, and was wearing a red and orange crop top, an orange miniskirt, brown boots, and a blue bandana.

"Not too shabby," Chris muttered to the camera.

"Hi!" Lindsay said. "Okay, you look so familiar."

"I'm Chris McLain," Chris explained.

Lindsay had a confused look on her face.

"The host of the show?"

"Oh, that's where I know you from," Lindsay smiled.

"Uh, yeah."

The next camper to arrive has long black hair, and is wearing a red crop top, green shorts, and aviator sunglasses.

She takes off the sunglasses and looks around, a look of disgust on her face.

"Heather," Chris says, as she walks right past him.

"Hi!" Beth says, running up to Heather. "Looks like we're your new friends for the next eight weeks!" she says, spitting all over a disgusted Heather.

The next boat to arrive is playing rock music. The guy to get off the boat has a green mohawk, piercings everywhere, a black skull shirt, jean shirts, and a spiked collar.

"Duncan, dude," Chris says.

"I don't like surprises," Duncan said, raising his fist.

"Yeah, your parole officer warned me about that man," Chris said. "Also told me to give him a holler anytime and have you returned to juvie."

"Okay then," Duncan said, walking off.

"Meet you by the campfire, gorgeous."

"Drop dead, you skeeze," Heather says is disgust. "I'm calling my parents. You cannot make me stay here."

Chris smiled and pulled out a copy of paperwork.

The next contestant to arrive was water skiing, the rods attached to the boat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Tyler!" Chris exclaimed.

Tyler had brown hair and was wearing a red tracksuit with a matching red sweatband.

As soon as Chris stopped talking, the ski's fell from under Tyler and he flipped into the air before slamming down onto the dock, right into the pile of everyone's luggage.

One of the suitcases, fell into the water, creating a wave that splashed onto Heather.

"Ugh! My shoes!" Heather groaned.

"Wicked wipeout man!" Chris yelled.

Tyler only gave a thumbs up in response.

Chris snickers, before jumping as a loud exhale rings out.

"Welcome to camp, Harold," Chris says.

Harold looks scrawny, has ginger hair, glasses, and is wearing a blue shirt and green pants, while holding an electric keyboard.

The typical Napolean Dynamight type look.

Harold looked around, not saying a word.

"What's he looking at?" Beth asked.

DJ shrugged.

"So, you mean this show is at a crappy summer camp and not on some big stage or something?" Harold asked.

"You got it!" Chris said.

"Yes!" Harold exclaimed. "That is so much more favorable to my skills." he said, walking off.

Chris cringed as the next contestant arrived.

"Contestant number nine is Trent." Chris said, gesturing to Trent.

Trent has a black mullet and is wearing a green shirt with a green camouflage handprint, and black trousers, while carrying a guitar.

"Hey, good to meet you man," Trent smiles. "Saw you on that figure skating show. Nice work."

"Thanks man." Chris fist bumped him. "I knew I rocked that show!"

"I saw that!" Beth said, raising her hand. "One of the guys dropped his partner on her head. So, they got immunity that week."

"Lucky," Harold said. "I hope I get dropped on my head."

"Me too!" Lindsay said.

Trent looked around. "So this is it?" he asked.

The camera panned over to Heather squeezing the water out of her hair and Harold picking his nose.

"All righty then," Trent said, concern etched on his face.

Trent walked off and stood next to Gwen. He smiled at her, but she turned away, a scowl on her face. When Trent looked away though, Gwen had a small smile on her face.

The next contestant had her blonde hair in a ponytail, was wearing a blue hoodie, short jeans, and holding a surfboard.

"Hey, what's up?" the girl says as she gets off the boat, leaning on her surfboard.

"All right, our surfer chick Bridgette is here." Chris says.

"Nice board," Duncan scoffed. "This ain't Malibu, honey."

"I thought we were going to be on a beach." Bridgette said.

"We are," Chris said. The camera panning away to a gross looking beach with trash and weird green liquid.

"Great," Bridgette sighed.

"All right, that makes-" Chris started before getting in the head with Bridgette's surfboard. "Ow! Damn it! That hurt!"

Bridgette walked off, ignoring Chris' complaints.

"Hey guys," Bridgette says to the other campers.

"Hey, I'm Geoff."

"What's up?" Bridgette says, turning around, making everybody duck to avoid getting hit with the surfboard.

"Dang! Watch the board man!" Harold said.

"Hi! I'm Beth!"

Hey," Bridgette says, turning around again, almost smacking Trent, Duncan, and Harold.

"Okay, we've all met surfer girl, can we get on with the show, please?" Heather said, still squeezing the water out of her hair.

"Someone missed their double cappuccino macchiato this morning," Duncan smirked.

"Fuck off," Heather spits out.

The next camper to arrive is short with brown floppy hair, a frown on his face. He's wearing a white undershirt, a blue polo, a red vest, grey shorts, and lace up boots.

"Our next camper is Noah," Chris said, rubbing the spot on his head where he got hit.

"You got my memo about my life threating allergies?" Noah asked, walking past Chris.

"Sure someone did," Chris answered.

"Good. Is this where we're staying?" Noah asked, his face scrunching up in disgust.

"No, it's your mother's house, and we're throwing a party." Duncan said, cracking his knuckles.

"Cute. Nice piercings, original, do them yourself?" Noah asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, you want one, shithead?" Duncan asked, pulling on Noah's lip.

"No thanks, can I have my lip back please?" Duncan let go of Noah, smirking "Thanks,"

The next person to arrive is a curvy, dark-skinned, girl. She's wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans, with her black hair pulled into a ponytail.

"What's up ya'll?" she calls from the boat. "Leshawna is in the house."

Harold gasped when he saw her.

"Yo baby. Hey, how you doing?" Leshawna said, stepping off the boat, giving Chris a high five. "How's it going?"

"Feel free to quit now and save yourselves the trouble, 'cause I came to win." she said, walking to where everybody else was on the dock.

"Oh, what's up my brother?" Leshawna said, high fiving DJ. "Give me some sugar, baby."

"I've never seen a girl like you in real life before," Harold said.

"Excuse me?" Leshawna asked, her eyebrow raised.

"You're real big, and loud."

"What did you say to me?" Leshawna said angrily. "Oh, no you did it. You have not seen anything yet. I'll show you big, baby.

Just as Leshawna was about to pounce on Harold, DJ and Bridgette ran to hold her back.

"Oh yeah, you want some of this?" Leshawna said, struggling against DJ and Bridgette. "Come on then!"

"All right campers!" Chris sternly said. "Settle down!"

Leshawna readjusted herself, glaring at Harold.

Harold smiled shyly in return.

The next two campers to arrive were dressed like twins, with the same haircuts as well. One was tall, skinny, and dark skinned, while the other was short, chubby, and pale. Both of them were wearing black and white striped shirts, and hot pink shorts.

"Ladies, Sadie, Katie, welcome to your new home for eight weeks," Chris said, gesturing towards the camp.

"Oh my gosh! Sadie look! It's a summer camp! Katie said.

"Okay, I always wanted to go to summer camp!" Sadie squealed, as the two of them ran down the dock.

The next camper to arrive was very pale. He was wearing a blue hat, a green hoodie, and blue joggers.

He looks like he doesn't get out much.

"Ezekiel. What's up man?" Chris asks.

Ezekiel looks up at the sky.

"I think I see a bird," he says, making Trent chuckle.

"Okay, look dude, I know you don't get out much," Chris says, his hand on Ezekiel's shoulder. "Been homeschooled your whole life, raised by freaky prairie people just don't say much and try not to get kicked off too early. Okay?"

"Yes sir," Ezekiel says, walking off.

"That's just...wow," Gwen says.

Next, comes a short scrawny kid. He's wearing a striped, yellow sweater and blue jeans.

"Cody. The Coadster. The Codmesiter!" Chis says, finger gunning him before high fiving him.

"Dude, psyched to be here, man," Cody said, walking off. "I see the ladies have already arrived. All right."

As he's about to say something to Leshawna, she puts her finger up to his lips, silencing him.

"Save it short stuff."

The next girl to arrive is very intimidating. She has her black tied into a ponytail, and is dressed in a blue tracksuit, showing off her muscles.

"Eva. Nice. Glad you could make it." Chris says.

Eva walks past him, ignoring him completely.

Cody holds his hand up for a high five, but instead gets his foot smashed by Eva's bag.

"Ow!" Cody says, holding his foot. "What's in there? Dumbbells?"

"Yes," Eva answers.

"She's all yours, man," Duncan says to DJ.

"Woohoo!" screams a voice, making Chris cringe.

The guy who screamed is a chubby guy with blonde hair, wearing a white shirt and green shorts. He has a big grin on his face.

"Chris! What's happening?" he laughs "This is awesome! Woohoo!"

"Owen!" Chris says. "Welcome!"

Owen picks up Chris in a giant bear hug.

"Awesome to be here man!" he says. "Yeah! Man, this is just so..."

"Awesome?" Gwen finishes, a smirk on her face.

"Yes! Awesome! Woo!" Owen exclaims. "Are you gonna be on my team?"

"Oh, I sure hope so," Gwen says sarcastically.

"Wooooooo!"

"You about finished?" Chris asks.

Owen puts him down, still grinning wildly.

"Sorry dude," he says. "I'm just so psyched!"

"Cool, and here comes Courtney."

Courtney steps off the boat, with help from Chris.

"Thank you," she says.

She has short brown hair, and is wearing white blouse, and tight green jeans.

"Hi! You must be the other contestants. It's really nice to meet you all."

""How's it going?" Owen says, grabbing Courtney's hand and shaking it. "I'm Owen!"

"Nice to meet you Ow-wow," Courtney says, distracted by the next contestant.

The next contestant had sculpted muscles and nice dark skin. He had black hair just barely covering his eyes and was wearing a tight green shirt and simple jeans.

Everyone on the dock was staring at him in awe. The girls and the guys, especially Owen.

When Justin smiled, Eva and Katie swooned while Sadie fainted.

"This is Justin," Chris said as Justin got off the boat. "Welcome to Total Drama Island."

"Thanks Chris, this is great." Justin said.

"Just so you know, we picked you based entirely on your looks."

"I can deal with that," Justin shrugged his shoulders.

"I like your pants!" Owen said.

"Thanks man," Justin said.

"Because they look like they're all worn out." Owen laughed. "Did you buy them like that?"

"Uh no, just had them for a while."

"Oh, cool," Owen gave a thumbs up before smacking himself in the face. "Stupid."

"Hey everyone," Chris said, getting everyone's attention. "Izzy."

Izzy had curly ginger colored hair and was wearing and a green crop top and a green skirt, that looked like it was made out of leaves.

"Hi Chris!" she exclaimed. "Hi-Oh!"

As she started to run off the boat, she tripped and hit her chin on the dock before falling into the water.

"Ooh," Tyler cringed. "That was bad."

"Guys, she could be seriously hurt," Courtney said, trying to pull Izzy up.

When Izzy got onto the dock, she shook the water off her like a dog.

"That felt...so...good! Except for hitting my chin. This is summer camp? That is so cool! Do you have paper mâché here? Are we having lunch soon?" Izzy ranted

"That is a good call!" Owen said, pointing at Izzy.

"Calm down," Chris said. "We still have one more camper to meet."

At that moment, a boat pulled up, and a H/C haired girl stepped onto the dock. She was wearing a black and white stripped long sleeve, a black skirt, red converses and had nose ring.

"Last but not least, we have Y/N!" Chris smiled.

Y/N looked around at the camp, a frown etching itself onto her face.

"Um, I thought we were going to be staying at a resort?" she asked in confusion.

"Can't believe you guys actually believed that," Chris chuckled.

"Is it too late to go home?" Y/N asked.

"If you like swimming, then no." Chris cheekily.

"Douchebag," Y/N muttered as she walked to the other side of the dock.

"Before we do anything, we need a group photo for the promos," Chris said. "Everyone on the end of the dock!"

Y/N walked over along with everyone else, her frown still on her face.

'Oh well, I'm already here,' she thought. 'Besides, all of this is for Dad.'

Y/N was between Duncan and Tyler. She gave both of them a small smile before smiling towards the camera and putting up a peace sign.

Chris hopped onto the boat, a camera in his hand.

"Okay, one, two, three,"

The camera clicked.

"Oops, okay, forgot the lens cap," Chris said.

Y/N blew some hair out of her face, already annoyed.

"Okay, hold that pose. One, two, no wait...card's full, hang on,"

"Come on man, my face is starting to freeze," Leshawna rolled her eyes.

"Got it!" Chris said. "Okay, everyone say 'Wawanawkwa!'"

"Wawanawkwa!" everyone said.

As if this were a movie, at the exact time, the dock gave out, plunging everyone in the water.

Y/N screamed as she felt the cold water hit her skin. She struggled to get above the water, throwing up her hand, hoping someone would help her.

As she was about to sink, a rough hand grabbed her and pulled her to the surface.

Y/N coughed and spluttered up water, the person still holding on to her as they both got to shore.

"Okay guys," Chris called out. "Dry off and meet at the campfire pit in ten."

"So far, this fucking blows," Y/N said, standing up.

"You're so real for that," Duncan says. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/N mutters. "Thanks for helping me."

"Don't mention it," Duncan shrugged, before a flirty grin came up on his face. "The names Duncan. I didn't catch your name, sweetheart."

"Maybe if you were paying attention, you would have caught it, Duncan," Y/N smirked, walking off. "I'll see you at the campfire."

"This is Camp Wawanawkwa," Chris explained to the campers sitting on trunks in front of him. "Your home for the next eight weeks."

Y/N was currently standing in in between Eva and Duncan.

"The campers sitting around you will be your cabin mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends, you dig?"

Y/N and Bridgette looked at each other, smiling.

"The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest, without getting voted off will win one hundred thousand dollars!"

"Excuse me," Duncan said. "What will be the sleeping arrangements be? Because I'd like to request a bunk under her." Duncan said, pointing at Heather.

"They're not co-ed are they?" Heather asked, concern on her face.

Y/N elbowed Duncan hard in the ribs.

"No. Girls get one side of each cabin and dudes get the other." Chris said.

Heather sighed in relief.

"You are so gross," Y/N muttered.

"What? Jealous 'cause you wish it was you instead?" Duncan smirked.

Y/N elbowed him in the ribs again, harder this time.

"Excuse me, Kyle? Can I have a cabin with a lakeview since I'm the prettiest?" Lindsay asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Okay you are," Chris said, making Y/N and Duncan look at each other with their eyebrows raised. "But that's not really how it works here. And it's Chris."

"I have to live with Sadie, or I'll die," Katie said, holding onto Sadie's hand.

"And I'll break out in hives, it's true," Sadie whined.

Y/N tried to contain her giggles by covering her hand with her mouth.

"This cannot be happening," Gwen sulked.

"Oh, come on guys!" Owen said, grabbing onto Gwen and Tyler. "It'll be fun! It's like a big sleepover!"

"Yeah, with people who I would never want to be around in public," Y/N muttered.

"Here's the deal," Chris said. "We're gonna split you into two teams, when I call your name out, go stand over there," he finished, pointing to the left of the campfire area.

"Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, and Noah. From this moment on, you are officially known as The Screaming Gophers!" he said, throwing the team a dirty green banner.

"Yeah!" Owen exclaimed. "I'm a gopher! Woooo!"

"Wait, what about Sadie?" Katie whined.

"The rest of you, over here," Chris said, pointing to the right.

"Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Izzy, Courtney, Ezekiel, Duncan, Eva, Harold, and Y/N. Move! Move! Move! Move!"

"Can't this guy have a little bit of patience," Y/N mumbled.

"Clearly not," Bridgette giggled.

"Excuse me?" Heather raised her hand. "How come they get an extra player?"

"Because I'm the host and I get to make the rules," Chris laughed.

"Ugh, whatever," Heather scoffed, giving Y/N a dirty look

Y/N gave one back.

"But Katie's a gopher!" Sadie whined. "I have to be a gopher!"

"Sadie, is it?" Courtney said. "Come on, it'll be okay."

"This is so unfair!" Sadie cried as Courtney walked her away. "I miss you, Katie!"

"I miss you too!" Katie cried.

"You guys will be officially known as The Killer Bass!" Chris said, throwing them an identical red banner.

"Awesome," Harold said. "It's like, amazing."

"It's so amazing," Y/N sarcastically said, making Courtney glare at her for whatever reason.

"Alright camper," Chris cleared his throat. "You and your team will be on camera in all public areas during this competition."

~Confessionals~

"You will also be able to share your innermost thoughts on tape, with video diaries anytime you want," Chris said, sitting in an outhouse, flies buzzing around him. "Let the audience at home know what you're really thinking. Or just get something off your chest."

-

~Confessionals~

"Um, okay, so far this stinks," Gwen said.

-

~Confessionals~

"I don't get it," Lindsay said, facing away from the camera. "Where's the camera guy?"

-

~Confessionals~

"Hey everyone, check this out," Owen said very seriously. "I have something very important to say."

Owen then farted, a sly smile on his face before he started laughing.

-

~Confessionals~ "So far, only like two people look reliable," Y/N said, covering her nose, "And oh my lord, what died in here?"

-

"All right, any questions?" Chris asked. "Cool. Let's find your cabins. Gopher's, you're in the east cabin, Bass, you're in the west." Chris said, gesturing to the cabins in the distance.

Y/N grabbed her luggage and started walking over to the cabin.

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" Bridgette said catching up to her.

"Yup, that's me," Y/N smiled.

"Cool. I'm Bridgette," Bridgette smiled back. "I really like your nose ring."

"Thanks," Y/N said, as they reached the girls part of the cabin. "You wanna bunk with me?"

"Sure," Bridgette answered. "You want top or bottom?"

"You pick first," Y/Nsaid. "I don't care which one I get."

"Okay, if you're sure," Bridgette shrugged before picking the top bunk.

"Excuse me, Chris?" Y/N heard Geoff call out. "Is there a chaperone of any kind in this facility?"

"You're all sixteen years old," Chris said. "As old as a counselor in training at a regular summer camp. So, other than myself, you'll be unsupervised. You've got half an hour to unpack and meet me back at the main lodge, starting now!"

Suddenly, Y/N heard a loud shriek coming from the Gopher's cabin, making you and Bridgette look at each other.

"What the hell was that?" Y/N asked.

"I don't know," Bridgette answered. "Let's go check it out."

Y/N and Bridgette walked over to the cabin, peeking your heads in, along with Tyler, Gwen, DJ, Duncan, Harold, Heather, and Leshawna.

"Damn, that white girl can scream." Leshawna said.

Peeking in, Y/N saw that Lindsay was the one screaming. She was standing on a stool, in front of her, was a tiny little cockroach.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, dumbfounded.

"What is it!?" Lindsay asked. "Kill it! Kill it!"

The bug started to move around, making DJ squeal like a girl and jump onto one of the beds.

"That was my bed," Gwen groaned.

Everybody started screaming and jumping onto objects, trying to avoid the cockroach.

"It's just a tiny cockroach!" Y/N grumbled. "You guys are acting like a bunch of pussies."

Suddenly, Duncan walked through the door, carrying an axe.

Y/N swore the heard the cockroach saying 'Help me' before Duncan brought the axe down on it.

"You know, stepping on it would have worked to," Y/N said.

"Then why didn't you do it?" Duncan asked, smirking.

"Didn't wanna get cockroach guts on my shoe."

"If you ever see one of those again, just let me know, kay?" Tyler said to Lindsay. "Cause, you know, I could do that too,"

"They always go for the jocks," Duncan scoffed.

"What? Jealous that it's not you?" Y/N mocked his earlier statement, walking out of the cabin.

"Y'know, you still haven't told me your name, sweetheart," Duncan said, catching up to her.

"Chris literally said it earlier when he was making the teams," Y/N laughed. "Not my fault, you're dumb as sand."

"Ow! You hit right where it hurt!" Duncan said, holding onto his chest.

Y/N giggled. "Tell you what, I'll tell you my name at the end of the first challenge. Deal?"

"Why you waiting until then?" Duncan asked, the two of them now standing on their cabin porch.

"Just to make you wait," Y/N smirked. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna finish unpacking my stuff."

--

"Listen up!" a voice rang out through the mess hall. "I serve it three times a day, and you will eat it three times a day!"

"Grab a tray, get your food, and sit you butt's down NOW!"

"This guy is seriously crazy," Y/N whispered to Duncan.

"Seriously," he whispered back, as the line in front of them started to move.

"Um, what exactly is this?" Y/N asked, grabbing her tray. "There's not any wheat in here is there? 'Cause I'm really allergic to wheat."

"I don't think it's gonna be that much a problem, sweetheart," Duncan muttered, also grabbing his tray.

"What did you say!?" Chef yelled.

"Nothing sir!" Duncan said, before him and Isabell quickly sat down at one of the tables.

"Sheesh, you're gonna die before the show even begins," Y/N laughed, poking at her food.

"Dying would be better than eating whatever this is," Duncan said, taking a bit then immediately spitting it back out.

"Welcome to the main lodge!" Chris said, walking in.

"Yo, my man," Geoff said from right next to Y/N. "Can we order a pizza?"

Y/N barely had time to react before a butcher knife was thrown right in between her and Geoff's head. Isabell's eyes widened in fear.

"Woah! It's cool G!" Geoff panicked. "Brown slop is cool!"

"Seems like you're gonna be the one dying before the show starts," Duncan muttered.

"Go fuck yourself," Y/N muttered.

"Your first challenge begins in one hour!" Chris said, walking back out of the lodge.

"What do think they'll make us do?" Katie asked.

"It's our first challenge, how hard could it be?" DJ answered.

--

At the top of a thousand-foot cliff, was Y/N and the rest of the contestants, all dressed in their swimsuits.

"Holy fucking shit," Y/N said, looking down into the water.

if you don't like the swimsuit, or the outfit that you wear, you're more than welcome to imagine something different

im going to try to update more frequently

but no promises tho

stay safe and make sure to drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[javispunk]

Hii, so I saw an edit on tiktok of joel to i can see you by Taylor Swift on the background and i was wondering if you could do something based on that? Maybe like inspired by the lyrics and the moments between them that relate to those lyrics? But feel free to so it as you imagine it!!! Thx S2

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2C5KGbd/

Yes! I saw this edit and was thinking of doing something inspired on it and Taylor’s song, at least now I have an excuse to actually do it! This screams dbf!joel, so I had to do it. Thank you so much for the request :) I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you’d like any other kind of version on it, or some kind of series on this?? Thank you for the support.

I can see you

Summary: You’ve been in Jackson for about a couple years now and you’ve always seen Joel go on about his days, filled with patrol duty or just casually at the cafeteria. Either way, and oblivious at first, you see each other. One night at the bar, you confirm your doubts.

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

Content/Warnings: +18 smut (minors don’t interact!), age gap (Joel is in his early 50s, reader is in her mid twenties), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (p in v).

Notes: This is a bit long, I got carried away. It’s also a bit of a slow burn but bare with me! Please excuse any mistake, as english is not my first language. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Leave any requests you’d like me to write :)

You kept to yourself at Jackson since you joined in a couple years ago. You had a few people you could call friends and rely on. Besides them, your dad was also a good call. He always made sure to provide anything for you. You weren’t a child anymore, not even close to it. But you were his only daughter and that would be enough.

There would also be no effort made on your part to make more acquaintances, and that’s fine, that’s just the way you were. The people you usually had gatherings with would be your dad’s friends. And being a social butterfly, he had a few of them. But Joel Miller was his most relying one. He was a little bit younger than your dad, but they still found ways to share common interests. They’d do patrol duty together, always make way to eventually do a Saturday night dinner at yours or his - either the three of you or with more guests. You also learned about Joel’s loss and grief very quickly, something you could relate with.

For more than a year now you’ve felt safe with these people. Never once you got to complain about them, nor they did regarding you. Tonight it was just you, your dad and Joel at the dinner table. The usual setting of the table, familiar by now - your dad at your right, Joel at the other end, opposite from you.

“It should be alright if we get there by 5.” Joel spoke as he continued putting food on his fork. His signature plaid flannel shirt falling on top of his shoulders on a way that was now familiar to you.

"I'll be there sooner if I can get an early night." Your dad held the plate in his hand as he tried to collect more food from the table center. "I'm sure Adam will be there if I let him know." You received a gaze from your father as he spoke once again. "By the way, he told me he left you a message at the bar. Have you talked to him?"

"Dad... c'mon." You kept looking at your plate before turning your eyes to both man at the table.

"What? He's a great guy, he's your age. Great sense of responsability, I've seen how he handles work."

"Well, that's great for him. I don't see what that has to do with me."

Joel chuckled at your statement, still looking down at his plate. Your dad looked at him. "Honestly, I don’t understand this kid.”

Even though you were in your mid twenties your dad insisted on calling you kid, kiddo, any type of derivative.

“Well” you began as you collected your plate. “This kid has work in half an hour. I’ll just do the dishes and then go.” You headed to the kitchen with a sarcastic smile.

Once you put down your plate in the kitchen counter, you supported the weight of your body on it with both your hands. You sighed with frustration. Eyes closed, head down. The amount of hours you did the previous week at the bar left you restless and honestly wishing for a week worth of sleep. A few minutes passed, and you stayed like this. Silence prevailed until you heard Joel’s voice behind you.

“Got two more.”

“Fuck.” You jumped at the sudden voice, looking briefly at him, going back to the kitchen counter the next second.

“Sorry.” He quickly spoke. His body relatively close to yours, placing both plates on the sink. “Here, I’ll do that.” He took the sponge from your hand, slightly touching it.

There were several moments of tension between you and Joel over the last year or so. Usually cordial and kind moments like these, but they were filled with tension, you were not sure if it was sexual, but it felt so for you. Joel was at least 20 years older than you, you were not sure about his age. In a matter of seconds you recalled all of these encounters. The way he’d wait down the hall for you, or the way he’d always try to brush past you whenever you were in the same room. You would notice how he would make conversation with you whenever he could, how he would shower you with gifs - actual cool and useful gifs - how he payed attention to your interests, or how he'd get protective whenever he felt you were in some kind of danger.

"So you don't like Adam." he asked, mid-chuckle, while grabbing some soap.

You put your hand on your head, slightly embarrased. "Well..." You also looked in the direction of the dining room, searching for your dad.

"Your dad went to the neighbours. He said something about a favour. He'll be back soon enough." He noted.

You looked at him with your mouth slightly opened in a form of response, before speaking again. "Adam's alright. A bit insistent. My dad always makes a stand on the matter of relationships, I'm not sure why."

"You're almost what? 26? He probably wants you to get married. I got married around your age. That's how we'd do it in Texas."

You looked at the man's back. You didn't know much about his past. He had no pictures of his ex wife in his house. You knew he had a daughter before the world went to shit. That was the extent of knowledge you had about his grief and sorrow. Ellie would have filled some of the void in his life. But besides that, Joel was a lonely man.

"I'd get married if it wasn't the end of the world. Or if there was someone interesting around here." You laughed.

Joel followed your action, closing the running water tap. "I'm sure you'll find him." He chuckled, looking at you as he dried his hands with a cloth handtowel.

"Besides, I'm great on my own." Your voice raising an octave.

“I’m sure you are." His eyes on you. "Do you need a ride? It's freezing outside."

You shook your head no, while grabbing the coat propped on the back of the chair. "It's just a few minutes walk, I'll be fine. It will be even colder when I close at 1am. But thank you." You smiled his way.

He nodded his head, hands on his hips.

***

The clock marked half past midnight when you first looked at it since you entered the bar. You didn't stop to breathe since you started serving drinks at 8pm, walking from one corner of the bar to the other in a fast pace. The bar was usually filled with middle aged men, a few younger people, about your age, casually sitting in groups over a few tables. You sipping a few drinks once in a while over the hours without anyone noticing.

You think about the small amount of time you still have to work while you go around the counter and collect the empty beer bottles on the nearest table. You grab the cloth hanging from your shoulder only to wide your hands on it, before you make your way behind the counter again, your back against it.

"A whisky if it's not too much trouble." You heard Joel's voice.

You quickly turned around, a smile appearing, plastered on your face without you noticing. "Hi!" You swifted the counter dry in front of him. "What are you doing here? I thought you started work at 5." You started preparing his drink.

Joel slightly shrugged both shoulders, before removing his jacket and propping it on the stool next to him. "Couldn't sleep. How's your shift going?"

"Alright. A few drunk men making a mess, but that's mandatory."

You grabbed his glass and started pouring the honey coloured liquid.

"But you can put them in their place."

"I don't have a choice." You supported your body on your elbows, leaning on top of the counter in front of Joel. The cleavage on your shirt open and exposed to his sight, as you felt his eyes directly on it. You held his drink in your hand, giving it to him in a nonchalant movement. The alcohol probably getting to your head at this point of the night, just the slightest - you were sure the rest was your attraction to the older man.

You watched Joel's eyes on you, before he moved them up to your own. He coughed before speaking, in a way of disguising his actions. "Thank you."

You smiled, noticing his stunned tone. "You're welcome."

You would never have this behaviour at dinner nights of course. Here, where everyone was a little drunk and honestly, wouldn't remember parts of the night, you felt this urge to mess with him. You knew he kind of like you by the way he would move next to you, by the way he'd speak directly to you, the words he would use when no one else was hearing.

You held your place in front of Joel. Him taking a sip of his drink as the ice clinked when the glass turned on his hand. Eyes locked on yours. You noticed the bar emptying slowly, but surely.

"Would you mind giving me a ride home? I have to close the bar and by then it should be pretty late."

"It's alright sweetheart." he spoke after ungluing his mouth from the glass which was now resting on the counter, him looking at your smug expression, which earned a half upward smile from him, before looking at your eyes again.

"Thank you." You touched his arm in a thanking gesture, leaving your hand over it much more time than it was needed to. You never touched him. It even felt like a challenge, something that was forbidden to do. His skin was soft even though his figure looked rough from working everyday out on the cold weather on patrol duty.

His eyes looking down at your efforts, while he held his drink in front of his mouth the whole time. You eventually moved away from him, continuing your work.

You took care of the wet glasses, cleaning them, your back leaning against the back counter of the bar, facing Joel. Every few seconds your eyes would be on top of him, while you wiped dry the cups, moving your fingers in a slight but surely suggestive manner. You were not doing anything wrong. You were far away from Joel, just doing your work. Behind him, still in the distance, you saw a man approach the counter. Adam.

"Hey." He looked at you with a wide smile, hands on the counter, not noticing the man sat beside him right away. "Oh, hello Mr. Miller. How are you?"

Joel slightly raised his glass at the kid, hoping that would be enough of an answer to his question. His broad shoulders square, looking foward, miding his own business.

You also noticed the last group of people leaving their booth, putting down the money on top of the table for you to collect it.

"Hey, we're almost closing but can I make you anything?" You asked him.

"Hum, not really. I gathered you didn't get the message I left you back there." He looked over at Joel for a second, before continuing. "I wanted to know if you'd like to go to the movie night next friday? They're going to show that movie you wanted to see at the theatre."

Your mouth opened before you grabbed another glass to clean. "I'd love to, but I think I'm doing a night shift on friday. Sorry."

"I heard that movie is great." Joel's voice muffled from the glass on his hand.

You looked at him, watching his smug smile covered by it. He was doing this on purpose.

"I'm sure it is. But have fun, I think the group from the cafeteria wanted to go."

"Next time then." Adam tucked at the sleeve on his jacket. "Tomorrow I get off work around midday, if you're free for lunch."

You were free, but had no intention on agreeing on his plan. But for the love of God, you could not find a single excuse to get yourself out of this situation. You noticed the younger man's face, hesitant. As soon as Joel noticed your silence, he spoke, still facing his glass, now almost empty.

"Actually, I'm gonna need your help until later. We'll have lunch outside Jackson." Joel saved your night with a simple phrase.

Adam looked at Joel with a disappointed expression. "Well, alright. I'll come by and let you know when-"

"You should go home, kid." Joel interrumpted him. "We got an early shift tomorrow." He looked in his direction for the first time since he appeared uninvited.

"Yes, sir. I'll be there." He agreed, before turning to you. "Do you need a ride? It's awfully cold outside."

Joel put his drink down and got up. "Let's go kid." He grabbed him not so gently but still not roughly by the jacket, putting an arm around his shoulders, turning him away from you and guiding him through the front door. Once he put the young man outside, he closed the door behind him and spoke from a distance. "You're already closing right?"

"Thank you for that." You continued to tidy everything behind the counter, as Joel made his way to you across the bar. "Am I supposed to marry him?"

"If you really want to." He entered the space only reserved for staff. "I'll help you with that."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but it'll be a lot quicker and we can get you home."

You smiled. "Thanks, I'll just finish some things out in the back."

You ran to the kitchen, hoping to get a moment for yourself. Did Joel help you just out of good heart? That didn't seem like something he'd do. Maybe because you were his best friend's daughter - he was just trying to be nice.

After a while you heard his voice behind you, for the second time that night. "You know, he would be a nice husband. He can almost kill a few clickers without screaming if he puts his mind to it."

"Shut up." You laughed, throwing him a napkin you had at hand, still trying to finish your work duties.

Joel grabbed it in the air, laughing along with you. He scrunched it up in his hand, approaching you and almost connecting your bodies together - your back touching his front, as he placed the napkin on the table in front of you. Arms next to each side of you, hands placed on the edge of the table, where he supported his body's weight.

Your heart started beating and you swore Joel could hear it, because his behaviour was too bold to be natural.

"But you don't wanna marry him, do you?" His voice was low and you could feel the vibration from his tone on your back.

"No, not really." It seemed like he was waiting for something from you. A sign to act his next move, without being criticised. It almost felt like he was afraid. Afraid of you not feeling the same. Not wanting the same.

Your body tensed under his. His presence hovering above you. He was significantly bigger than you. Fuck, you thought. He smells like sandalwood and the whiskey you gave him earlier. You were almost intimidated to turn around, so you decided not to.

"So you're all shy now." You watched his hands shift on the table top, before moving them to your lower stomach.

Your heart felt like it would break free from your ribcage. You looked down at his hands holding you in place. They looked huge on your body.

You turned around suddenly, trying to play his game. Your hands behind your body. "What do you mean?" You put on your best innocent smile.

You saw him do the same. You noticed his eyes were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen when he raised his eyebrows before speaking, hands now on your waist. "I mean how you made me hard under that counter top back there."

You rolled your eyes in response, while you shrugged your shoulders. "Couldn't really notice. But I do now." Your hand flew to the bulge in his pants.

A laugh came creeping in his tone. "Careful, sweetheart."

"Why?" Your head up, looking at his face from underneath.

You both stared into each other's eyes with doubt on your expression. You decided to break the hesitation, gluing your lips to his. The taste of whiskey still prominent on his mouth, as he slid his tongue inside your mouth.

Your hands immediately on the back of his head. One of his on the lower of your back and the other on your ass, putting you on top of the table. You opened your legs to wrap them around him, Joel immediately erasing the gap between you both.

His hands running from the top of your back to the back of your thigh, holding it in place around his waist.

"You have no idea how long I waited to touch you." He spoke once you both pulled back for air.

"You're gonna relive your little fantasies or do something about it?" You asked as you started to unbotting your pants while looking his way.

He immediately replaced your hands with his, taking your jeans off in a swift motion. Your shirt followed quickly. He left your paneis still on, just putting them to the side before sliding his middle finger in your slick folds. He laughed as he felt how wet you were, before inserting his finger in you. You whimpered as you felt his rough calloused skin inside your cunt, moving up and down inside you. You moaned his name quietly, trying to hold on your excitement. It seemed like his knees gave in on him as soon as he heard his name coming from your lips.

"Say my name again." You heard him ask.

"Joel..." You moaned louder when he added one more finger inside you.

"Sounds so good coming from your pretty little mouth." His thumb rubbing soft circles on your clit as he kept fucking you with his fingers.

Your eyes rolled back in protest. The amount of pleasure building on your stomach was like something you've never felt before. He began to curl his fingers and you made a gutural sound with your throat, head falling back.

Joel got on his knees and placed both hands on each side of your pelvic area, holding both your legs between his biceps and forearms. You felt a void, missing the friction his fingers stimulated inside you.

"Please." You begged him.

"Please what, sweet girl?" His head between your legs, looking you up, mouth dangerously close to your core.

"Please, make me cum." Your voice came out almost in a whisper. But it was more than enough for Joel.

His lips connecting to your core, kissing it gently first, focusing on your clit. You were a mess of whimpers under his touch as he gently made out with your cunt, visibily holding himself not to get out of his pants and fuck you right then and there. Sucking on your clit, he then moved on to your entrance, sliding his tongue inside you, licking your core from bottom to top.

He was good. Joel kept his hands on your lower stomach, trying to hold you still as you moved under his touch. It was unnerving the amount of pleasure he provided you with. You never once had your body react like this.

You looked down at him, entertained in his own little paradise. He was truly intoxicated by the scent of your skin, the feel of your core, the wetness you had started to drip a few minutes ago.

He kept his rhythm steady and intense at the same time.

"Fuck." You kept moaning as you looked down at his face between your legs. Every now and then he looked up at you and the tight knot on your stomach would grow. The look of lust in his eyes enough to make you cum. "Joel, I'm- I'm-"

"I know sweet girl, you're so close." You felt the vibrations from his voice on your pussy. "Best fucking thing I've ever tasted in my life."

That did it for you. Your orgasm loosen and spread through your entire body, your legs shaking as Joel held them tighter, keeping his tongue on you, making you enjoy your high. Your head was thrown back, your hands behind your back on top of the table, supporting the weight of your now numb body. You kept your eyes closed for a while, feeling your body tensen up and resting for a while.

You felt one of Joel's hand grabbing you by the lower of your back, helping you with supporting your body weight as he noticed you couldn't do it yourself.

"So fucking beautiful." He spoke while unbuttoning and dropping down his jeans with his spare hand. With his help now, you could use your hands. You took his flannel off, before ripping his underwear down his thighs, his lenght shot right up, hard as a rock, bouncing on its own weight.

You felt your cunt pulse once again, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. One of your hands held his cock, pulling him closer to you. You heard Joel moan as he felt your hand moving up and down him.

"You like that." You stated. Not even a question. You were letting him know you knew. With your legs slightly up, around his waist, you positioned his length on your entrance slowly, making him eager for your warmth.

Once you got his tip inside you, he couldn't control himself, pushing his cock inside you slowly and deeply. It was out of your control now.

"Fuck, Joel." You screamed as you felt him stretch you wide.

He panted above you. "Shit..." he mumbled to himself, as he looked down, seeing himself dissapear inside you with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good."

Once you got used to his girth, you felt Joel fasten his pace. He was hitting your g-spot every single time he slapped his hips on your ass. The clapping sounds making him go feral. Holding one of your legs up with his arm for better positioning, Joel kissed you again with urgency. You left your mouth hang open against his when he once again fasten his pace, letting him know you were enjoying it by letting a whimper come out every time he thrusted inside you.

"Prettiest fucking thing. Let me see your pretty face when you cum." He mumbled against your open mouth.

You felt your second orgasm creep on you. His words took you to the absolute edge. His low voice making them feel like velvet. It didn't take long for you to feel that explosion of pleasure inside you. Your whole body shaking for the second time. Your ecstasy face putting him on the edge.

He quickly pulled himself out of you, letting his warm release hit your chest, running down your tummy after a few seconds of kissing each other. You wouldn't let go. You physically couldn't get enough of each other. His hand still grabbing the back of your neck, to keep you close to him. Your hands tangled on his hair. Both of your breathings slowing down as a few minutes passed just making out in an endearing way.

Your foreheads glued to each other as you panted together.

"Please come pick me up more often after closing shifts."You laughed and he followed.

"I'll do anything you want me to."

[sigynsilica]

Conservatives be like "tHey'Re tRyiNg tO dEcOnStrUcT tHe fAmiLy uNiT"

Yes. Exactly. That is exactly my goal in life.

Then they be like "wElL yOu mUsT wAnT tHe wOrLd tO bE fUlL oF siNgLe pAreNtS"

No

You think it's LESS family I want? You have it backwards. It's MORE.

Let me explain.

One of the most integral parts of humanity is community. Humans are pack animals. We do better in groups, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Everything humans have accomplished, they did via teamwork.

This is a leading reason why I'm a socialist, because Capitalism is, by definition, the advancement of the individual over the collective. That's a concept that goes against human nature. Capitalism gives credit to one person for what a team of people did, and allows that one person to decide for themself what portions of the benefits of creating something goes to who. This despite the fact that the creation would not and could not be possible without the whole team of people. Even if one person creates one thing, they could not do it without materials harvested or tools invented or concepts thought of by someone else. Somewhere down the line, someone was pushing the buttons.

It's a very isolationist way of thinking, to claim that a CEO deserves more money for producing a product than the assembly line workers who actually made the thing.

This mindset has then been projected onto basically every single aspect of American life. (I can't speak for other countries because I've never been anywhere else)

People are their own human, and that means they can't ask for help. Collaboration is a myth, and the credit for anything really only goes to the head of the endeavor.

Enter the nuclear family.

One mom, one dad, and an assortment of children. The mom stays home and raises the kiddos and cleans the house and makes sure everyone has clean underwear and also finds time for sanity somewhere, while the dad works his butt off at a crappy corporate hellhole of a job. Add in some fundamental Christianity, because America Is A Christian Nation apparently, and you have pressure to homeschool. This only further enforces the isolation, the individual, the Doing Everything By Yourself as the only way to go.

This is why so many conservatives and fundamentalists like the Duggars so much. Think of it! Twenty homeschooled fundamentalist Baptist children, all raised to believe in God, while the dad does Politics and Mission Stuff at the church and the mom homeschools All of them.

And of course you have friends, right? But woe upon thee if your house isn't spick-and-span or the children are being disruptive when they come over. They can't see your mess. They can't see your imperfections. Nobody actually goes to their neighbors to ask for a cup of sugar. You should buy your own sugar. Jeez.

In this mindset and mentality, if your children are "unruly", that reflects badly on you as a parent. Your children are seen as an extension of yourself, and if you don't have everything in your life put together, you're getting judged by randos in the grocery store, now. If both parents need to work, just send your kid to the local daycare. What's that? You can't afford daycare? Hire a babysitter. What's that? You can't afford a babysitter? Hm. More judgement. Get the kid's granny to watch them or something.

So here's the facts. The more adults a child has in their life who show them support and are a safe environment for the child, the more the child will be likely to succeed in their adult life.

And by that definition, yes. I want to destroy the family unit. I want it gone.

The notion that if the two people who were directly responsible for the child's existence can't adequately provide for their child, that's it's a moral failing on their part? That's bullshit. I want it gone. If you need help raising a child, so does everyone else, and it should be socially okay to reach out to a trusted member of your community for help. It should also be socially okay for someone who you trust to want to care for a child with no financial compensation. Children are delightful.

Taking care of a child is hard work. Someone has to be on call 100% of the time for at least the first ten years of that kid's life.

Of course, in making the decision to have children, a parent should consider their capability of caring for the kid. But it shouldn't be their capability of caring for a kid ALONE. No one should have to raise a child alone.

Every parent should have a full support system to fall back on. Every person, let alone parent, should have a community of people who would be willing to help care for other people in their community, especially vulnerable people in that community, like children.

This is what I mean when I say I do want to destroy the family unit. I don't want any child to have to grow up in an environment where the only people who feel responsible for their safety are their parents.

Of course parents are responsible for a kid's safety, more than any other people on the planet, because the parents were the ones who chose to bring the kid into the world.

But they are not the only ones. They should not be alone. There should be no more talk of "well, your parents ought to teach you how to behave," because children learn from everything and everyone around them. You can't stop that. Not even if you try.

The thing is, parents should not, and cannot be the ultimate authority on life for their kids. My parents tried, while simultaneously insisting they weren't perfect, but if you grow up thinking only two people who are Biblically one person are the only ones who are right about things, you're going to have a lot of unlearning to do, no matter who those people are.

Humans, all of us, have a responsibility to look out for each other. Community is our greatest strength, and it's founded on the principle of all of us in a community having each other's backs.

So no more Two Heterosexual People being an island and a solitary beacon of what a family is supposed to be. A family is a community, and we all look out for each other. We all make sure we're safe and we have what we need to live. And we all teach each other things about how the world is.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 1

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues, first few chapters are flashbacks to high school, they WILL NOT be explicit just fluff.

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

Fic Summary: Andrea has loved Javier since she was a girl in pigtails, yet he has always been off limits. Andrea's older brother Frankie makes sure Javier never crosses any lines, which was an easy task considering Javi's relationship status with long term girlfriend Lorraine. Somewhere, the lines blur.

A/N: Hi tumblr, I decided to also upload on here so heh Hi! It was mentioned in the tags but Ms. Jessica Alba is my face claim for Andrea my beloved. I do have little pinterest boards but I feel like I could also post my inspo pics on here too hehe. Anyway my pinterest is maribari11. My Running Like Water Boards are titled;

Before 1985

Genie and Frankie

1985+

Lor.

Diaz House

First ten chapters are being slowly uploaded on here but can be accessed on ao3. Enjoy :)

word count: 3.3k

Andrea was fifteen, thirteen, twelve and twenty one in his basement. In 1977 Andrea was only thirteen. Her brother, Frankie was fifteen and most definitely couldn’t be bothered hanging out with the girl. She was a bit awkward and interested in things he wasn’t. Deep in his rebellious phase, skipping church and frequenting smoking pot at Genevieve's house. That bitch. Andrea would mutter when she would roll her car into the dirt driveway.

She used to pick fun of Andrea and Andrea wasn’t one to just “forget” about something like that. Having Frankie around definitely pushed that potty mouth that they wouldn’t dare use around their mama. Having been the one of the only Puerto Ricans within a 3 mile radius, mom would take them to church trying to follow along with the differences in words between the way they spoke on the island and how their preacher from Mexico preached.

Melissa Diaz, single mother with too much money for her own good. The largest home in their neighborhood, courtesy of her grandfather who wrote Melissa’s name in his will. He struck big with oil in the 30s and his only alive relative was his little one Melissa, who wasn’t so little. She was already pregnant with Andrea at the time and obviously dropped her life in Miami as a struggling single mom for sudden Texas luxury.

They were also one of the few people in the neighborhood who didn’t like the ranching lifestyle.

Melissa wasn’t into that, she opened up her boutique in town and let the money pile that way. But it was lonely, for Andrea at least. She had friends in her sixth grade classes of course but it was never close enough to be invited out when they would leave school on Fridays and walk to Genevieve's (bitch) dads ice cream parlor. Despite Frankie’s new habits, maybe once a month he’d take Andrea out. And he had taken her out that summer.

The fishing rod sound was comforting, down the hill and a sharp left into town. “Frankie! My legs are too short to keep up.” Green short overalls and a baseball ring t-shirt. His back was facing you and you grip the handles, lean forward but it still doesn’t make you as fast as him. You mutter curses under your breath like your mama could hear.

The town came into view, the shops, moms shop and the police station smack in the middle. The police of Laredo, who mama very much disliked after she was pulled over for having Frankie in the front seat when he was six.

Genevieve's beetle parked in front of the ice cream shop, the speed increases and you can’t help but groan with annoyance. You follow him any way knowing you will be ditched for the next 2 hours, I can just ride back home now.

You don’t though. You follow him before the two of you park our bikes by a post, you two hadn’t had your locks because one of the two of you usually would stay out with the bikes, (it was always Frankie) while the other (you) bought ice cream. With Ice Cream you and your brother would walk your bikes to a bench. Sit for a bit and eat ice cream, it was the time where you two actually enjoyed each others company. Frankie is eyeing the car, “Stay here, I’m going to see if I can catch Genie.”

You give him pleading eyes, “No Frankie, this isn’t fair.” You look around anxiously at the thought of being alone in the street next to two pricey bikes. He laughs and shoves your shoulder before walking into the shop. God, you hate this phase he’s in. He’s totally in love with her and she was older- seemed like she just wanted to be around him to smoke. You look out at the town surrounding you. Summer classic, just so busy this time of year. You watch as 3 girls leave mom's shop, bags in hand. Teenage boys laughing over something near the bar that was closed.

“Andrea?” A deep voice comes from behind you, deep voice? You turn, your pigtails practically slapping against your face. You blink rapidly as the boy approached you. He looked your close to brothers age, but with one of those awkward puberty staches. “Sorry, your Frankie’s sister right?”

You nod, looking down at the bikes, still confused as to why he was talking to you. Or how he knew your name, or why he was getting so close. “You should know that your brother owes 30 cash for a few ounces, has been avoidin’ me” His steps even closer and you can’t hold both bikes at once, Frankie’s bike drops to the floor. Shaking your head, you already had a fear of boys, let alone teenage boys. Now one is close to you asking for money you for sure did not have.

“That’s not my issue dude.” You squeak, and grimace, you really couldn’t have looked weaker than at this moment. Twelve years old in overalls and pig tails. The tween quickly retrieve a blade from his pocket.

With quickness and without any time for thoughts you step away from the bike.

Fuck this.

The boy crouches down and stabs the wheel and the scream you let out is nothing short of embarrassing.

Is no one seeing this?

In a split second the kids face is on the ground, pushed as he stabbed the wheel.

“What the fuck is your issue?” A voice growls, not deep like the prick on the floor but definitely a voice of someone awaiting puberty. Your eyes flash up from the sight-seeing the voice, reaching down and grabbing the collar of blade boy, turning him on his back. “Get the fuck out of here.” He shoves the kid further into the concrete and now people were paying attention.

Yet still, no sign of Frankie, who was probably already smoking with Genie in the back of the store.

The guy with a smudge of sidewalk dirt on his cheek runs away from the 14-year-old vigilante, abandoning his weapon.

The boy had a familiar look, like you’ve seen him in school. A grown look to him already to which his voice contrasted. Your face flushed red when he reached down to grab the bike, “Are you okay?” He stood straight, tall. You nod embarrassingly quick, wishing for a moment that you hadn’t looked so young.

“Yes I-”

“Javier? What the fuck happened to my bike?” Frankie steps out of the shop, Genie behind him, her hair in its perfect voluminous state. The small crowd that formed from Javier’s quick action had already desolated.

Javier, Javier.

Javier scoffs, “You left your little sister with your bike and some kid nearly mugged her.” Frankie’s eyes widen, looking at you, your fear and embarrassment broadcasted on your face. He closes his eyes for moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cursing under his breath. He takes a few steps forward, disarming the bike from Javier’s grip.

“Dillan…” He grits. Frankie puts his hand on your shoulder, Javier stood to your left shaking his head. “Shit, Andrea I’m sorry,”. Frankie turned to look at Genie. “Would you mind driving us to Javi’s”

She agreed instantly and by the grace of God we somehow fit the bikes in her small car. To your benefit, you and Javier peeled next to each other. You just couldn’t help but crush immediately. Frankie explained that Javier’s dad “Chucho” used to fix bikes, he probably had a replacement wheel there. He also apologized over and over, Genevieve laughing at how apologetic he was. And Chucho fixed his bike out in the driveway. So you stayed in Javier’s basement for hours. But like always, you felt like an outsider.

A bit too young to be in that crowd. They spoke of things you couldn’t relate to yet. But you were occupied, a gaze on Javier seemed to be the only interesting aspect of the night. And your assumptions were right-well almost right...

Javier was fourteen, turning fifteen in August and he was at your school but just in the 8th grade. Its something you two shared in common, you were both a year older than everyone else in your grades. It was the summer going into 7th grade which meant Javier was joining Frankie at Laredo High School in a matter of months.

And again, to your advantage, it became a constant routine.

Biking to Javier’s basement, you, Genie and Frankie. You didn’t complain despite still feeling out of place, you finally had people to hang out with. And for mama, she was ecstatic that her two kids were actually hanging out together. They would joke about things you hadn’t experienced yet. “Cover your ears Andrea,” Genie jokes as Javier described hooking up with one of Genevieve's friends. She was definitely too old for Javi. God do all 8th graders “hook up”.

You were also quick to realize Genevieve wasn’t all too bad, it sure seemed she grew a bit since her playground bully days. Yet you still managed to be the butt of every joke in Javier’s basement.

“Do you even have friends in school?” Frankie leans into his knees, passing his blunt to Javier. The pass was always skipped over you because you were too little. Surprisingly, you actually agreed. Your eyes narrow at Frankie as he tried to dig at you.

“Leave her alone, I mean you’re here hanging out with your twelve-year-old sister, so you really are no better.”

You couldn’t help it. You were doomed when he beat up that kid Dillan. You couldn’t help but blush at anything he said. It was classic. Little girl crushing on one of her only friends just because he was nice to her. The whole thing just grew deeper with time as you all got closer. As Javier proved himself to be the only one on your side.

Slinging an arm over your shoulders as you all walked home the following summer. It was all friendly to him but you knew Genevieve could read your face.

That face when you're trying to be serious to avoid smiling ear to ear from being so close to your one-time-knight in shining armor.

Though, you never really saw Javier during the school year. It wasn’t surprising, you weren’t even in the same school building during his freshman and sophomore year. You also had to accept that it was just a summer thing, enough time would pass where Javier would be shocked every time he saw you. During his sophomore year you had not seen him those whole nine school months. Not even with all the quinceañeras and town events. You just never saw him, even when you would deliberately bike past his house. You would always see Chucho though. He’d wave, you’d return it and then look straight ahead, oh my god I’m such a creep.

It just became devastating when you were going into high school. You had gotten taller, maybe prettier. But you think it was just the fact that you were 15 now. He hadn’t truly seen you since you were 14. Back when you still had to patch your knees from typical middle school rough housing.

That year he was gone, 1979, he came back briefly just to leave again at the very start of the summer. Attending a summer police camp, for boys. In turn, Frankie spent the summer working and Genie (who was finally your brother’s girlfriend) was taking summer courses at a beauty school.

No, absolutely not, is what you tell Genie when she asked to dye it blonde. You did give in with a haircut and your once long mane now only reached just below your shoulders. “Layers, it makes you look more grown up. Getting you high school ready.” She gleams as she chops your hair in her classroom.

Luckily, despite all of your older asshole brothers jokes, you weren’t completely socially inept.

In that Javi-less year you had met with some girl’s you played lacrosse with. Liandra and Monica. And they really kept you busy that summer. The three of you went swimming and Monica would drive you all around town. They were surely some characters, Monica a bit of a spaz, older than you of course. Javier’s age. Liandra was tougher and much more athletic than the rest of the girls on your team.

It was late in summer, end of July. That familiar feeling was settling in every time you would pass a store with a sign that said Back to school sale.

In your final beach trip with your girls you had come back in Monica’s car like you always did, in shorts and your bikini tops.

7-11 was your haven, steal a few candy bars and pay for Slurpee’s. “God, your tan line.” Liandra grabs your shoulder with her cold hand as it was just gripping her drink. You wince at the feeling.

Gritting your teeth, “Yeah, I just catch sun a bit more.” The cold air of the store nipping at you, goosebumps rising. Monica curses as the slushie overflows, Liandra shoves her in annoyance.

“Mujer, tienes que poner la tapa primero. Tapa ¡primero!” Liandra says very seriously, earning a groan from Monica. You laugh, sipping your cherry flavored slush. The flavor so sweet and concentrated, how you liked. Your eyes fall to the ground as your friends argued in Spanish. You could understand them of course but speaking it, oh that was a whole different story. They thought it was so funny to leave you in a room with their family members to hear you struggle.

An elbow digs into your bare rib. Your eyes snap up at Monica, annoyance prevalent in your face. “Hot guy, older… staring at you right now.” She speaks out the side of her mouth in the most cartoonish way ever. Your eyebrows screw together as you try to slyly look to your right, red straw between your cherry-stained lips.

A familiar pit in your stomach forms, one you would get just a summer ago or when you would bike passed his house and see his truck in the driveway. Your eyebrows shoot up as Javier stands near the refrigerated drinks, a confused look on his face.

 He looks so much older; he was taller and his hair. God, he would be 17 by now. Or 16? It isn’t august, he’s still 16.

“I thought it was you.” He laughs walking towards you, not helping the throbbing in your chest. You could hear the girls stir from behind you. His smile doing the thing. When the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could barely make out the color of them. Has he been working out?

Fuck of course he has, he’s been training. Where was he all year?

“Shit, I feel like I haven’t seen you since last summer.” Without letting you think he pulls you in for a hug, too distracted by his scent and hold to realize you were just in a bikini top. His large hand flat on your upper back, stinging the mixture of burn and tan you had received from being by the seaside.

He lets you go but still has a hand on your tanned arm. You try not to focus on the touch and instead speak. “Uh- yeah where have you been all year.” You blurt, fuck did you sound desperate? Obsessed? You were. You had kind of been worried sick. Worried that something was wrong although you knew deep down that Chucho just wouldn’t just go on with his day if there really had been an issue.

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, I know. Chucho sent me to that High School for law and justice last year. Lived with my uncle out there” Your eyes widen, that was in Houston. Chucho really let him leave all year-and then for summer?

He laughs again at your reaction, “I know, I’m back now, going to finish junior and senior year at Laredo, it was pricey keeping me over there. I’m here again” He smiles, he hasn’t stopped since he realized it was you. He always looked at you with that sort of gaze, you wanted to believe it was adoration. And his voice, oh my god when did it get this deep. His eyes fall to the girls behind you.

 It snaps you from your Javier Peña daze.

“Oh- that’s great. Sorry-” You awkwardly look at both girls by your side. “These are my friends, Monica and Liandra we play on the varsity lacrosse.” They both are ogling him and you mentally roll your eyes. It’s just the way they are.

Javi crosses his arms and nods, a smirk playing on his lips. He puts a hand out and ruffles your hair. Your cheeks immediately warming at the act, “Freshman on varsity, maybe I’ll stop by some of your games, right ladies?” He crosses his arms again. They both nod, Monica laughs snorting along with it.

Oh my god…

Still a smile playing on his lips, staring down at you. Tall, fuck when did he get so-“Listen, I have to go home to dad but I’ll see you around school, yeah?” He says it like he means it, like he wants to see you around. Like he’s hopeful.

Or maybe you were just making it all up in your mind.

He waves a goodbye to your friends and leaves empty handed, the brass ship bell rings as he goes.

Monica wraps her arms around you and makes a fake moan into your ear. You cringe again pushing her off, “You have to be joking who in the world-”

“Javier, he’s my brothers friend” You brush them away and walk to the register. Taking your change out, 60 cents for a large like always. Monica groans and Liandra puts down her own change, covering for Monica. It was “pay-back” for all the rides she provided you guys.

“He’s so sexy oh my goodness Andrea.” Liandra gushes. You look at her from the side of your eye for a moment, knowing he surely wasn’t her type. She liked those big buff knuckle heads. You smile and thank the cashier before you all exit the store before loading the car.

You do see him in school. He never really sees you, maybe he’s tries not to. Within the first month of freshman year you had seen him in the hall with a new girl at least 4 times. You had heard he was a bit of womanizer, a sweet talker. And he was charming with you so you could only dream of how sweet he was when he was really flirting.

“You wish that was you, don’t you?” Monica laughs from your left, your eyes widen. She caught you staring at him walking with another girl. Truly, shamefully, you weren’t paying attention to the girl he had his arm around but instead the way his ass looked in the jeans he wore. Your cheeks flushing red.

 “I’m good.”

You lied. You would walk home nearly everyday with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You had a lot of alone time that fall, You had a lot of time to just pine over him now that you had to see him everyday. You wondered most importantly, if he’d ever want you, maybe not now but soon. Before he graduates, You also wondered if he was hooking up with those girls. God, he had gotten so popular when he came back. And you just watched.

You did a lot of watching. You watched Genie and Frankie nearly break up over dinner at your house. You watched Monica get a boyfriend only 3 months into high school, and you watched Liandra have her first kiss at a party.

You watched everyone else have experiences, you could only just watch.

[sillygoofyqueer]

The Untamed review: episode two!!

Yes, Wei Wuxian, Little Apple IS a picky eater, because he deserves only the best and KNOWS IT

Bro's complaining about a donkey to a donkey, what a guy

"You're like MY master"

"Yo, there's a well!" Wei Wuxian immediately moves out of the way, what a gentleman

HE'S JUST TALKING TO THEM, WOAHHHH

Wei Wuxian helplessly listening to them argue over his inventions is so funny to me

"IS WEI YOUR DAD?!??" "HE'S MY IDOL!!"

The way that Wei Wuxian just gives up and peaces out

Fighting with a donkey now

Take the fucking apple, you dumbass

How old is this woman? She looks about twenty five

IT'S JUST LIKE IN MINECRAFT

Push her off, it'd be so funny and no one would know

Yo, what is Yan doing?? She's busting some moves

Does he just flick any random person?

Ohhhh, I see

Got killed by the mist, that's an embarrassing way to go

Bro is dead, goddamn. Poor lass has no soul

This woman has been through so much, she doesn't deserve it

Someone's catching humans, cannibals in every universe

JIN LING!!! <3

Laughing at the richness of people

"Naur, stay up there. See you later xoxo"

How is this woman here????

LITTLE APPLE BEHAVE YOURSELF

It's fine, he's wearing a mask that covers his eyes

"It's you?" Aw shit, the guy who was a baby when you were around is onto you

Joking, he knows Mo Xuanyu

Mock him and see how it ends up

BRO JUST INSULTED HIM BECAUSE HE'S MOTHERLESS

Stop trying to get up, jesusss

Nice throw

He looks so done with people's shit

STOP FUCKING MOCKING HIM, WEI WUXIAN

Oh, hey Jiang Cheng, you're baby girling quite hard today

No need to crush it

"break his legs? No, feed him to your dog, kiddo"

His boyfriend has come to rescue him

"I'm so unlucky today", on the contrary, I think you're very lucky, these characters are key to the plot and you didn't even have to go looking for them!!

I like the music that plays when the Lan Clan is around

Lan Jingyi stepping up for his father- teacher

Lan Sizhui, how do you know so much

HE CAST THE SILENCE SPELL, I LOVE HIM

He says it like a slur hahahaha

Lan Wangji is too busy mewing, don't break his streak!!

"If you don't get that spirit, don't come back to me!!" Jin Ling was never seen again 😔

He's like a grumpy toddler, I love him so

"Don't worry, we'll pay for the nets we broke!" "Nuh uh!!" Lan Sizhui, you're an angel, don't listen to him

HIS MEWING STREAK NOOOOO

Nice voice though

"I thought I saw my boyfriend 😔"

There are spirits in the lake, I wouldn't suggest drinking from it

Jiang Yanli 😭😭😭

Stop smiling, you're hallucinating

Slander my boy and sees what happens

Slap yourself, go on, like the books

Don't put the blame all on him!!!

Nice, like the books

Feel the shame

That cannot be comfortable, those are literal rocks

LITTLE APPLE!!

He's like they're little leader

That's a fast old man

Lan Jingyi's first instinct is to point a sword at an old man, lmaaoooo

"anything strange here?" "Duh"

Leaving him alone while he's trying to give important plot information, rude

Glowing grass, what the fuck

I think you should eat some

He just wants to clean, leave him alone

WEN QING!!!!!!

Flashbacks lmao

Where'd the old man go

Dirty

No way is that naturally formed

Lan Jingyi, you're surprisingly knowledgeable..I didn't know you could read

Jin Ling and his group of people

AAAAAHH WHAT THE FUCK

"what's up baby girls"

Ugh, it's been moving for a while now

Maybe you should, I don't know, LISTEN TO THE GUY WHO KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING??

Also, y'all ditched him, minus points

"We're out" "fuck, y'all are gonna soooo be punished"

The look he gave, as if this isn't like, a sixteen seventeen year old. No, wait, he's probably eighteen...how old was he before Wei Wuxian's death? ANYWAY

Criticising the Lan education system while you're at it

"wait, you can't be crazy, because that makes sense!!" Lan Jingyi my beloved

Shit, my cover as a crazy person has been blown

Are they having a mewing contest or what?

Well done, Lan Jingyi

WHERE'S MY NEPHEW

I swear it wasn't that big before

Y'all are doing a shit job at running from something this slow

Nice attack, it's still stone though

Dude, listen to Lan Sizhui

"Hey, my sword 🥺😔"

Considering this flute playing is supposed to be shit, it's not too bad

"ugh, you're playing the flute this bad? You must be crazy" Lan Jingyi, make up your mind

STOOOOOP JIN LING

Nice kick, it's still stone though

WEN NING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HE'S HERE TO KICK SOME ASS FOR YOU!!!!

They both look mildly terrified

Dude killed it so easy, well done. Naur, it's just an illusion.

"y'all, no need to be scared, the Yiling Patriarch ain't here" he's standing over there, wearing a mask

I THOUGHT THE LANS WERE BETTER THAN THIS

Luring him over with shitty flute playing

LET GO OF THE COMEDIC RELIEF

His robes are even blowing, just for you

Me leading my next snack away from the bag

Walk faster, goddamn

"hey bbg, it's been a while"

Listen guys, I know you're in love but there's a corpse there

He flew away, like Jesus

So...how is everyone surprised when they do turn out to be gay???

DON'T PIN THE BLAME ON HIM. MY MAN'S IS GUILTY BUT PRETTY

Uhh uh oh. Mom and dad are fighting again

Lan Wangji already looks so bored

The fucking GLARE I CAN'T

"Take off the mask!!!" "Nuh uh, I'm too handsome"

Lan Jingyi needs to stop being smart, it's scaring me

Stoooop, he didn't kill his brother

Okay, so he did, but he didn't want to!!!

He passed out, okay man

Answer the stupid call

FAMILY!!!!!!!

They're so happy 😔

Give him what he wants, it's SYMBOLISM

Lecturing him better than Lan Qiren

You lost him already, not very good at this, ey?

Alcoholic

Of course he will, it's Wei Wuxian

They're so happy :(

[legobiwan]

Cut Scenes #1

Sometimes you have really good ideas, but they just. don't. fit. into your story (no matter how hard you try to push the triangle into the rectangle hole). So, as I get back on the writing horse (heigh-yo silver and all that jazz), have a continuing series of cut scenes that will likely never find a home. (Also known as, why am I giving these guys such an angsty backstory? I'm sorry, Mario and Luigi, one day I'll write you something that isn't my usual brand of melodrama. Maybe a baseball story because do I have ideas about who'd they be rooting for in 1980-whatever. Also, let's hope that some of these future cut scenes will also involve my Star Wars stuff, as well).

Anyway, Cut Scene #1, from an ongoing SPM fic I'm working on that's going to be a Mario POV during the events of Mr. L because apparently I cannot shake this storyline from my head.

--------

Yes, they had fought, had hurt each other, even. But never with the intent to truly do harm, to damage the other in a way that couldn’t be taken back, couldn’t be assuaged with a mumbled apology or mended with a desperate hug. 

Only once had Luigi attacked him with intent, with raw violence, but even then…

Luigi was stalking through the apartment, overturning papers and books, opening drawers and cabinets and closet doors with wild and noisy abandon. He emerged from the bathroom with a long, metal pipe, which he gave a few experimental swings, nearly taking out a stubby beige lamp perched on the edge of a ring-stained coffee table.  

"I'm going down to Red Hook and dealing with them," he muttered at Mario, "them" being the men who had plucked their father’s plumbing business right from under their noses, the deal finalized not even an hour after Dad's body had been laid in the earth. 

Like hell he is, Mario thought, picking his way across the cluttered floor as Luigi was busying himself wrapping the last roll of electrical tape around the base of his improvised weapon. 

Brick wall, Mario told himself, recalling his nickname from high school as he took position in front of the apartment door, crossing his arms against his burly chest. It didn't matter how much abuse Luigi hurled at him, he'd be a brick wall. It didn't matter if Luigi hated him forever, he'd be a brick wall. It didn't matter if Luigi started throwing punches, or tried to send his head over the right field wall of Shea Stadium with that damn pipe. Mario was going to stand there for the next twenty years if that was what it took. Because his baby brother was being an idiot and was going to get himself pounded into next year - or worse - by the Marinellis and their goon squad if Mario let him leave this apartment.

It went as badly as he expected, Luigi making the leap from insults and curses to spitting and threats, rushing at him, pipe brandished over his head.

Mario let it happen. He let his little brother slam metal into cheap plaster. Let him pound his fists against hard muscle and fragile bone. Let him carry out his rage again and again until they both collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap on the tacky linoleum floor, Luigi half in Mario’s lap, sobbing into his brother’s bloodied, torn shirt.

...but even then, Luigi had been acting out of hurt, out of anger and pain. Not staring Mario in the face, cackling wildly about the end of the world while calling a gigantic laser-shooting robot to his side.

[thelostgirl21]

A collection of unsent drafts that Radovid, Comma Prince, has written over the last 20+ years...

Dear Jaskier,

I think your music is phenomenal and filled with homoerotism...

I totally blame you for my sexual awakening...

Please do me?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Are you gay?

Would you like to be?

I could show you!

Gods, I'm hopeless...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Is it wrong to want to be stuck in the middle of a bard / Witcher sandwich?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Do you think one can fall in love with someone through their songs?

Because yours are filled with so much beauty, poetry, symbolism and inner truths, that I think you have one of the most beautiful, intriguing, and beguiling spirits I've ever seen...

Or heard...

Actually, indirectly heard since I've never had the pleasure of hearing your voice.

I mean, I've heard your voice through your songs - as in the things you wish to say through your lyrics! Just not "your voice" as in... Ah, the sound coming from the vibrations of your vocal cords?

Gods dammit!

---

Dear Jaskier,

Would you believe I've a master in the 7 liberal arts, too?

And in the art of being a gay disaster, apparently...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Penis.

---

Dear Jaskier,

I thought writing it down would take my mind off it.

Spoilers alert: it didn't.

Penis, cock, dick...

Ah, fuck it!

---

Dear Jaskier,

After his fifth attempt to find me a princess to marry, I finally told my brother that I'm gay, and now he's pissed!

Apparently, they were all really counting on me to have kids since Hedwig can't give him an heir, and now I've ruined all of his and Dijkstra's brilliant plans!

Fuck, I hate Dijkstra so much...

At least Philippa has the decency of looking fabulous!

I'm telling you, that mage really slays!

Probably literally, too...

Yeah, on second thought, not sure that's such a good thing...

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, apparently my brother has forgiven me for ruining his plans of succession, since it's not like it's going to be his problem to deal with!

Yeah, after "much thinking on his part", it has finally occurred to him that heirs are only useful once you're dead, so he's never going to have any use for them!

Therefore, I should feel free to" waste as much royal seed as I want!"

Gods, I hate him so much, sometimes...

Although, that means I won't have to marry a princess, right?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Marry me?

---

Dear Jaskier,

I had a moment of weakness, and asked Philippa to find out where you were from and...

You're a Viscount?!?!

Oh my fucking Gods, I can't believe you're a Viscount!!!

Look, I'd totally have wanted to marry you regardless of any titles of nobility, but this makes things so much easier!

You see, Mom was a Baronness!

So, if Dad was allowed to marry a Baronness, and my brother chose to get married to a barren Princess, I'd like to see anyone try to tell me I can't marry a Viscount!

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, I asked Vizimir if I could get married to a Viscount, and he rolled his eyes at me, dramatically said "fine!", then asked "where the fuck is Lettenhove?"

Where the fuck is Lettenhove?

---

Dear Julian Alfred Pankratz,

Julian is actually kinda pretty, you know, although I can see why you'd want to choose a more personalized name, given your career as an artist...

Jaskier suits you.

Fuck, I've never actually met or spoken to you, but I've already decided that Jaskier suits you?

I'm hopeless!

---

Dear Jaskier,

I heard your new song and I'm so, so sorry...

I think I'm still a bit in shock over it...

I mean, how long has it been between you two? Twenty years?

And he just...

Look, I have no words!

How could he?!?!

Spent the whole dinner last night crying in my fucking soup, to the point I actually got my brother worried.

Tried to pretend I'd been reading this really tragic romance novel, but he didn't look too convinced.

He'll probably have Philippa breathing down my neck for a few days to make sure I'm okay...

Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?

I'm guessing you mean "burn" figuratively, and you wouldn't actually want me to ask my brother to arrest him and have him burn on a pyre, right?

Right?

Because we've got at least one of those...

---

Dear Jaskier,

Our bard sang the song again, and I had to excuse myself to from the room for a moment.

I know I said I wanted to marry you, but not like this!

I don't want you to have to give up on those you love for me to be with you.

I just... I just wish I could hopefully bring you even more love and happiness in your life...

Does that make any sense?

---

Dear Jaskier,

Just to be clear, that was just the anger, heartbreak and disappointment talking. I would never actually use my position to have Geralt of Rivia killed nor harmed in any way!

Unless you were to clearly ask me to...

Hurt him a bit for you, that is.

But, just so you know, I draw the line at any form of dismemberment or permanent maiming!

---

Dear Jaskier,

So, rumor has it the bastard has finally apologized, and you two have been spotted traveling together again?

Good.

He better treat your right.

---

Dear Jaskier,

How dare you?!

How fucking dare you?!

First, I am pleased to confirm that I was a hundred percent right, and "Jaskier" truly does suit you.

But sweet Melitele! You have no right to be so good looking, hot, and adorable at the same time!

What even was that curtsy-bow... ah, bounce?

You're just like I imagined, and nothing like I could ever have imagined, and, fuck... you're perfect!

Your voice even seems to sing when you are talking! How is that possible?

What I wouldn't give to actually listen to you perform one of your songs...

---

Dear Jaskier,

And just like that, we are back to penis.

---

Dear Jaskier,

I still can't find the words...

It was...

You are...

I am...

Fuck.

I am yours, is what I am!

I can't find the words, but I still remember every single one of yours...

Every one of them, right down to their very melody...

Been harassing our bard to teach me to play it...

Sadly, helping you won't be as easy as you make it sound; Philippa's started figuring out I'm not as clueless as I pretend to be, and from her sudden interest in me, I fear she might be misinterpreting my intents.

Still, I just want to make good on my word, and find a way to keep you and your family safe, Jaskier...

I need you to be safe...

Hopefully, Dijkstra and Philippa can convince my brother to reconsider his deal with Nilfgaard. After all, it's not like Vizimir ever would listen to me when it comes to making political decisions.

I'm way too much of an idealist and bleeding heart, according to him...

Still, I don't get why no one in this place seems to understand the value of win-win scenarios...

---

Dear Jaskier,

The good? My brother has been convinced. If she comes to Redania, Ciri will be fiercely kept and protected from Nilfgaard.

The bad? Convincing him involved a tiny bit of regicide, and I can't tell my brother about it, else I might end up a little dead, too.

Say, I hear your Witcher has a thing for adopting royals... think he'd adopt me?

Hopefully, once Vilgefortz has been exposed as a spy and a traitor to the Brotherhood, all this madness will stop; and we'll be able to catch and get rid of Rience once he looses access to his master's resources and protection.

I swear, I never expected things to get that bad, Jaskier... But I'll find a way to fix this. I have to.

Maybe if I can convince Ciri to come to Redania with your Witcher and his Sorceress, the combined power of Cintra and its allies with the North will he enough to stay Nilfgaard's hand, a second war will be averted, Dijkstra and Philippa will finally leave me alone, your debt to them will be considered paid in full, and perhaps your family can help change the way Redania has been ruling things as of late...

Yeah, I'd like to see Dijkstra and Philippa think they can get away with bullying your Witcher, a Witcher trained Princess, and two of the most powerful magic users of the Continent.

Of course, there's no guarantee Ciri would even want to listen to me, but I've got to try, at least.

[kel-of-ulthar]

Death is dressed in colors blessed, a mystery I confess I cannot see

tw: grief, chronic illness, hallucinogens,

It's been a long time since I've been here. I admit that returning to tumblr at 32 (I left it at maybe 22) is a strange and somewhat alienating experience. I spent so very much time here, once, and poured energy into the content I created and the people who read it. Some people I thought were true friends--I don't speak to one of them anymore, not one.

So things have changed for me, since then. I left as I was beginning to experiment with hallucinogens. They cured my PTSD from a car crash that totaled my old Ford Focus station wagon and left me with dreams of people crushed by the nose of the Subaru that hit me. LSD removed the darkness from my heart, for a time. A primordial god raised himself out of the waters of the void, stripped me of my fears and consumed them. I know that can happen, but I don't know that the god would do me a favor a second time, and my fears have returned.

Since I've been here last, really been here with intention and purpose, I lost my father. He died in the spring, of a lung disease that was neither preventable nor curable. It inexorably turned his lungs into stone. Twenty-seven years after he had quit smoking, even put away his marijuana pipes, he died of a disease that can't even be conclusively linked to tobacco. Maybe it was, or maybe recurrent pneumonia scarred his lungs, or maybe a perfidious mycelium infected his alveoli, or maybe he was just pure unlucky. He died in April, when his lungs were no longer capable of oxygenating his smooth muscle, and his heart stopped.

He said to my Mom, who sat with her arms around him, "Oh God, I'm going now."

I think about that all the time.

Grief is a room you come to inhabit, when the right kind of loss strikes you. In my case, I had been only adjacent to loss for most of my life. My uncle and my great-aunt I knew poorly. My grandparents were so elderly that death came with a somber sort of sweetness, bitter only because they lived just slightly too long, and were made to hold out beyond what would have been kind. A friend of a friend at eighteen, another at twenty-three. The first, a teenager I didn't know well enough to weep for, the second a thirty-eight year old who was too young by far, but who was not close enough to have the weight of real love.

When you have real love and you lose it, it is a physical problem. I had heart palpitations. I cried with the change of the wind. I felt crushed under the weight of the loss and the weight of the knowledge of what happens after death. Before I left this place, I was thick as thieves with a lot of people who called themselves worshippers of death. I thought I understood it. I didn't.

It's been six months since I lost my dad. In those six months I have scraped the bottom of the barrel of despair, things I haven't felt or grappled with in a decade, things I thought I had conquered, or at least laid aside. But I face it daily now, the weight of the sorrow. And I'm coming to realize that the sorrow will sit now like a paperweight before me. It is something I can lift and rearrange, but ultimately it remains. Maybe I'm not brave enough to cast it aside? Like a cherished gift of someone I cannot speak to anymore, but one which is not physically useful to me. I can't throw it away, it would be like throwing away that person and the memories we shared. In some ways, I think that it is occasionally easier to exist in sorrow than it is to face the absence of it.

Once upon a time, a Mormon pastor told me and the rest of the mourners at a funeral that grief was a gift from God. At the time, I was disgusted. I looked at my friend of a friend, a jack Mormon who would have hated to see himself, dressed like a pioneer, with a white bonnet on his brow until the contents of his coffin turned to dust. I thought--I don't know him at all, but I know that he would hate to be dressed like this. I thought, how can you stand there and tell me that this pain and kindness and goodness exist in the same realm? How can they even exist at the same time?

But that pastor, deacon, whatever they call them in that cult, he was right. He doesn't have to see the full face or intention of God or Gods to be right about grief. Grief is a gift. Grief only exists in the proximity of love. If I did not love my father, it would not hurt like this. It might hurt differently, but it would not pierce me so deeply, like an ice pick driving a hole into the fabric of my soul. Grief is a gift, because grief is really just the memory of love. It is a nostalgia deeper than that for beloved childhood memories, the lost places of your youth or the fleeting touch of old dreams. It is, at its heart, the void left behind when true love departs. And it's impossible to know how that feels until it has happened to you. Two people who have suffered such a loss can see each other from across a room. Someone who has only lost tangentially, lost people who did not impact them or who they did not truly love, they can only know what this is like in conceptual way. So we, all of us, everyone who has suffered a loss that shook them, we live in this room called grief. We can come and go, we are not eternally tethered ever to it, but we can never leave it entirely. Not forever.

We looked at his pictures today, photos he had taken in the years leading to his death, all the many MANY memes he had saved. It was strange how sitting there, remembering, made it seem like he was not so far gone. Then, when I gathered my things and I got in the car to drive twenty miles back home, I could feel again that he was gone. Like air had swept back into a vacuum, there was a suddenness to the feeling that hurt my heart, made it hard to breathe.

Halfway home, the odometer rolled over to his lucky number.

[thatonehorriblesibling]

When I was seven, half of my soul died and became its own entity. Ever since that day my other half haunts me.

Honestly, it's not that bad. Sure, he's a little annoying and kind of a jerk, but he's easy to ignore and sometimes he backs off without me asking. Plus he's helped me through some tough times. I'm not sure if I could call him a friend, but he knows me better than my closest one. I guess, he does act like a friend.

Sometimes he leaves, I don't know where he goes, the longest he's left has been four weeks, he refuses to tell me where he's gone, not for some cryptic reason like, "you would never understand" or "I'm not allowed to tell you". No, because apparently I'll "find out some day". Again, he's a bit of a jerk so he thinks it's funny to keep me in the dark.

Oftentimes he tells me things, things only he would know are true or not... I guess. One time after leaving again, for about three days this time, he told me I was going to hell and he was going to heaven. I don't know if that's true, not like he'd ever let me know. When he tells me those things he laughs, he laughs like he just heard the funniest joke ever, because of that, I can never tell if he's being truthful.

It's been about ten years now since that day half my soul died. I've always found it strange that he grew up with me, he died when we were seven, so I don't understand why he looks like a teenager... I thought ghosts couldn't age? Well, whatever the reason, I honestly don't care... Where would I even start looking for an answer?

He had me a bit worried today. Instead of waking up to him floating above me... Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that part, but yeah, he can float some feet off the ground, at first he could only float max five inches but he's gotten better and can go up to twenty feet now. Anyway back to what i was saying.

I woke up and instead of seeing his smug face laughing at me, or waking up to some clever insults he was laying on the ground. I got out of bed and asked him what he was doing. He looked so tired, so drained, like he just wanted to sleep, my mom is a nurse so I know the look well. He said nothing for a good minute and when he spoke all he said was "I don't want to be here anymore... why can't you just die already". I asked him to clarify what he was talking about, but he wouldn't speak, he just side-eyed me.

I get a knock on my door, it was my dad telling me to come down for breakfast. Before I leave my room, I stay with my other half for a bit. I've never seen him like this and he's worrying me. He doesn't do anything, just stares at the ceiling. I hear my dad call my name, a little more insistent this time, so I know I have to go downstairs now... Impatient ass.

After a good breakfast I went back upstairs to see what my other half was doing, he was still on the floor and he wouldn't speak. He spent the rest of the day on the floor, not moving a muscle... Does he technically have muscles?

Then at about 11:40 p.m. he got up, looked at me, and with the most tired eyes and a voice that concealed rage, he said, "We could've been at peace, but you just had to be stubborn and live." Before I could say anything or ask him what the fuck he was talking about he just left. Walked through my bed, through the glass of my window and floated off into the night sky. I don't know when he'll be back, but I'm very worried about him.

____________________________________________________

Cuando yo tenía siete años, la mitad de mi alma murió y se convirtió en su propia entidad. Desde entonces, mi otra mitad me persigue.

Sinceramente, no es tan malo. Claro, es un poco molesto y un poco imbécil, pero es fácil de ignorarlo y, a veces se echa atrás sin pedir. Además, me ha ayudado en algunos momentos difíciles. No sé si podría llamarlo amigo, pero me conoce mejor que mi mejor amigo. Supongo que actúa como un amigo.

A veces se va, no sé adónde va, lo máximo que se fuí han sido cuatro semanas. Se niega a decirme adónde ha ido, no por alguna razón críptica como "nunca lo entenderías" o "no tengo permision a decírtelo". No, porque aparentemente "lo averiguaré algún día". Otra vez, es un poco imbécil, así que le divierte ocultármelo.

A menudo me cuenta cosas, cosas que solo él sabría si son ciertas o no... Supongo. Una vez, después de irse, durante unos tres días, me dijo que yo me iba al infierno y él al cielo. No sé si eso es verdad, y además, nunca me dijera si es la verdad. Cuando me dice esas cosas se ríe, se ríe como si acabara de oír el chiste más gracioso de la historia del mundo, así que nunca puedo saber si es sincero.

Ya han pasado unos diez años desde aquel día en que murió la mitad de mi alma. Siempre me ha resultado extraño que creciera conmigo, murió cuando yo tenía siete años, así que no entiendo por qué parece un adolescente... ¿Pensaba que los fantasmas no podían envejecer? Pues, en cualquier caso, no me importa... ¿Por dónde empezaría a buscar una respuesta?

Hoy me tenía un poco preocupado. En lugar de despertándome a el flotando por encima de mí... ah, olvidaba mencionar eso, el puede flotar en el aire. al principio podía flotar a una altura máxima de cinco pulgadas, pero ha mejorado y ahora puede flotar hasta veinte pies. De todos modos, volvamos a lo que estaba hablando.

Me desperté y en vez de ver su cara de satisfacción riéndose de mí, o de despertarme con algún insulto ingenioso, estaba tirado en el suelo. Me levanté de la cama y le pregunté qué estaba haciendo. Parecía tan cansado, tan agotado, como sólo quisiera dormir, mi madre es enfermera, así que conozco bien ese rostro. No dijo nada durante un buen minuto y, cuando habló, lo único que dijo fue, "Ya no quiero estar aquí... ¿por qué ya no te mueres?" Le pedí que me aclarara de qué estaba hablando, pero no quiso hablar, solo me miró de reojo.

Escuché un toque a mi puerta, era mi padre diciéndome que bajara a desayunar. Antes de salir de mi habitación, me quedo un rato con mi otra mitad. Nunca le ha visto así y me preocupa. No hace nada, solo mira el techo. Oigo a mi padre llamarme por mi nombre, esta vez un poco más insistente, así que sé que tengo que bajar ya... Impaciente viejo.

Después de un buen desayuno, volví arriba para ver qué estaba haciendo mi otra mitad, pero seguía en el suelo y no hablé. Pasó el resto del día en el suelo, sin mover un músculo... ¿Técnicamente tiene músculos?

Entonces, a las 11:40, se levantó, me miró y, con los ojos más cansados y una voz que ocultaba rabia, me dijo, "Podríamos estar en paz, pero tú tenías que ser terco y vivir". Antes de que pudiera decir algo o preguntarle de qué carajos estaba hablando, se fue. Atravesó mi cama, atravesó el vidrio de mi ventana y se fue flotando en el cielo nocturno. No sé cuándo volverá, pero estoy muy preocupada por él.