😭😭 It’s Not A Rock It’s A Boulder

2022 schlatt please save me. please save me 2022 schlatt. headband schlatt, if you can hear me. headband schlatt save me. save me 2022 schlatt please.

Started watching daredevil…now THAT is a man who knows how to moan

Almost, Maybe [Part 2]

1,759 words Summary: Fem!reader x teen!Schlatt. You’ve had a crush on Jay since you were twelve, unsure if he feels the same. Inspired by The Summer I Turned Pretty.  This part isn't necessarily NSFW but contains some dirty thoughts. Read at your own discretion.  A/N: I love this series so much so far. Thank you all for your support! Part 1 - Part 3

Divider: dialilimoon

The sun is out and high in the sky, its heat pouring down on you. Gabe drives the speedboat fast enough that little droplets are coming off the sides and hitting your skin, but it's not enough to cool you down. 

Gabe slows down the boat and comes to a stop at a bay at the edge of the lake. “Alright, everyone get in the water willingly or I'm pushing you in,” he says. 

You look over at Robin. “Wanna jump in with me?” you ask. 

She nods. “Of course.”

The two of you make your way to the end of the boat and jump in the water. 

The water is cold, but refreshing. You swim away from the boat a bit. Robin follows you. 

You float of your back, letting the water cradle you as the sun beams down on you.

Robin splashes water in your direction, you sputter, laughing as you retaliate. 

You hear Maggie yelp, looking over to see Gabe has pushed her into the lake, jumping in himself. 

“You’re an ass!” Maggie shouts as she surfaces. 

“Jay, you better get in too or you’ll end up like Maggie here,” Gabe says.

Jay stands at the end of the boat, hesitating. 

“Come on, Jay!” Robin says. “Don’t be a wimp.”

He grins. “I’m just thinking about my approach.”

Jay backs up to get a running start and cannonballs right beside you. The impact sends a huge wave of water over you, momentarily submerging you. 

When you resurface, he's already laughing. “Worth it.”

“You suck,” you say, chuckling a bit as you splash him in the face. 

He coughs, sputters, and splashes you back. The two of you dissolve into laughter, water flying everywhere. 

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist. His touch sends shockwaves through your body. “Truce?” he asks, dropping your wrist just as fast as he grabbed it. 

You smile. “Truce.”

Gabe climbs back into the boat and claps his hands together. “Alright,” he says. “Who's up for a game of chicken?”

Robin whoops. “Let's do it!”

“Okay, teams of two,” Gabe says. “Robin, why don't you go with Maggie. Then, Jay and Y/N can be partners. I'll be the ref.”

You look over at Jay. “Guess I'm stuck with you, huh?” he says. 

Your cheeks burn as you swim toward him, hoping he doesn't notice. “Guess so.”

Jay kneels down slightly and gestures for you to climb onto his shoulders. You hesitate for a second before placing your hands on his wet skin and hoisting yourself up onto his shoulders. 

His hands grip your thighs to steady you and your entire body goes rigid. This was a bad idea. 

Robin and Maggie prepare for battle while you try not to think about how close Jay’s hands are. How natural it feels. How you wish they were exploring your entire body, not just your thighs. 

“Alright,” Gabe shouts. “Ready, set - go!”

Robin lunges toward you, trying to push you off Jay’s shoulders. You try to fight back, gripping onto Robin’s arms. 

Jay’s grip tightens around your legs, keeping you steady. He’s stronger than you expected. 

At some point, you almost fall, but he adjusts quickly, holding you tighter. 

“Hold on to me,” he murmurs. 

Your breath catches, but you do as he says, your hands tangling in his hair for balance. 

After a few minutes of back and forth, Robin wins the round and sends you toppling backward into the water with a laugh. You break the surface, gasping for air.

“I think you let her win,” Jay teases, running a hand through his wet hair. 

You roll your eyes. “Excuse me, I fought for my life.”

He laughs, but his eyes linger on you for just a second too long. 

“We should probably head back to the house,” Gabe says. 

You and the others scramble back onto the boat. You grab a towel and dry off before sitting down. Jay does the same and sits down next to you, his thigh gently brushing yours. 

Gabe starts the boat and speeds away from the bay. 

Later that night, Drew finally arrives, pulling up in his car just before dinner. He doesn’t look like he wants to be here, but your mother, Susan, and Julie run out to greet and hug him anyway. 

“Drew!” Maggie says excitedly, running up to hug him, while you approach more cautiously.

“You actually showed up,” you say, crossing your arms.

He smirks. “Don’t sound too surprised. Mom guilt-tripped me into it.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re glad he’s here. 

After dinner, the parents decide to go to a bar and you and the other kids start a bonfire. You grab blankets and marshmallows, settling into a circle around the crackling fire. The night air is cool, but the flames keep you warm.

Gabe stokes the fire, sending sparks up into the night sky. “Anyone want to play truth or dare?” he asks.

“Hell yes!” Robin says. 

“Alright, I’ll start. Robin - truth or dare?” Gabe asks.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to shotgun this beer,” Gabe says, tossing Robin a beer from the cooler. 

Robin catches it and pulls out a pocket knife. “Challenge accepted,” she says as she cuts a hole in the side of the can and puts it to her mouth. You and the others cheer her on as she chugs the beer. 

When she finishes, she does a small bow and throws the can into the trash before sitting down. 

“Alright,” Robin starts. “Maggie. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Maggie says. 

“I dare you to… run across the dock barefoot.”

Maggie takes off her shoes and socks. “That’s easy,” she says as she runs toward the dock. 

The game moves on, each person getting their turn. Drew is dared to jump in the lake fully clothed, Jay has to tell an embarrassing childhood story, and Gabe is dared to prank call his ex-girlfriend. 

Finally, it lands on you. 

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Gabe asks. 

“Truth,” you say. You don’t want to do some crazy shit and potentially get hurt. Telling an embarrassing story is better in your opinion. 

Robin whispers something in Gabe’s ear and smirks. Gabe gives her a confused look. “Okay, who was your first crush?”

Your stomach drops.

You glance at Jay instinctively while Robin watches you like a hawk. Your heart pounds. Do you lie? Do you brush it off?

Before you can answer, Drew speaks up. “Oh, that’s easy,” he says. “It was Jay.”

The entire group falls silent. 

All eyes turn to you. Your face burns. Jay looks stunned, his mouth falls open as if he’s about to say something but stops himself. 

“Drew, shut up,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“What?” he says. “It’s true. You used to follow him around like a lost puppy when we were kids.”

Maggie chokes on her drink and Robin looks like she’s going to explode from excitement. 

Jay clears his throat. “I - uh - I didn’t know that.”

You want to crawl into the ground and disappear. Or, better yet, throw yourself into the fire. Anything to get out of this awkward situation. 

Robin leans forward. “But what about now?” she asks. “Still got a thing for him?”

“Okay!” You stand up abruptly. “I think I’m done with this game.”

Robin is dying of laughter, and even Maggie looks amused. Drew looks pleased with himself, while Jay is unreadable. 

You turn on your heel and start walking back toward the house.

As the night goes on, the others slowly trickle back into the house. A storm quickly rolls in, causing the last few to come running back.

You spend most of the night playing board games and watching movies, but you can’t shake the awkwardness with Jay.

You go out to the back porch, wanting to get some fresh air. You hear the door slide open behind you. You turn your head to see Jay. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning on the railing beside you.

“Hey,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

You fall silent, the only sounds coming from the rain falling on the ground. Jay sighs, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous.

“I - uh… didn’t mean to act weird earlier,” he says. “Drew caught me off guard.”

You scoff. “Yeah, he seems to have a talent for that.”

Jay exhales. “I just didn’t know that you felt that way.”

You tighten your grip on the railing. “Yeah well,” you say. “It was a long time ago.”

Jay doesn’t he respond right away. Instead, he turns to look at you. You can feel his gaze on you, watching, waiting.

“But what about now?” he asks.

Your breath catches. 

You knew this conversation was coming. From the moment Drew revealed your crush, it was inevitable. But now that you're standing here, with Jay looking at you like he actually wants an answer, like maybe he’s been thinking about this too, you don’t know what to say.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, though it’s a blatent lie.

Jay exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look… I get it. This is weird now. But I just - I need to know if you still feel that way.”

Everything inside you goes still.

The air shifts between you, heavy with something unspoken. The only sound is the rain, steady against the roof, against the wooden deck.

You could lie. You could brush it off, laugh, make a joke.

Or you could be honest.

Your throat feels dry, but somehow, you find your voice. “Yeah,” you admit, barely above a whisper. “I do.”

Jay doesn’t react at first. He just stands there, watching you, as if processing what you just said.

Then, he steps closer.

“Okay,” he says, exhaling as if he’s been waiting for you to say that. “I think I feel the same way.”

Your stomach flips.

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Actually, no. That’s a lie. I do feel the same way.”

The world narrows to just him. Just this. 

“Jay,” you whisper. Your heart beats faster as you stare at him. 

He takes another step forward, but before either of you can say or do anything, the door slides open. Drew steps out, startling you and causing you to step away from Jay.

“Oh, shoot,” Drew says with a slight smirk. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you say before moving past him and into the house, making your way to your room. You reach your room and shut the door behind you, staring into a nearby mirror. 

What the hell just happened?

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I don't know who'd all be interested in this, but I made a shifting side blog! I'll be posting about some of my DR's there sometime soon.

Check it out: @harleyshifts

That picture of him and Kalynn Koury lives rent free in my mind. He looks so good. 🤭🫦

i need crazy wild relations with jschlatt

To add onto this, I was thinking about maybe doing it in first person and make it sort of diary-esque? And I might purposely put the chapters out of chronological order. So one chapter may take place in September 2021 and the next in November 2019 idk.

Hear me out.

I want to write a Schlatt fic in which the chapters are out of order (each takes place at a different point in time). The MC and Schlatt are sort of in this situationship. It takes years for them to finally realize their true feelings for each other. (Sort of inspired by One Day except there's no sad ending because I don't like sad endings.)

I hope this made sense. I can't wait to start writing it. 😜

ao3 is crazy because you'll read the most gut-wrenching 200k word slowburn that leaves you sobbing into your sweater at four in the morning and the author will be applejacksmonstercock

Just hit 20 followers today. 😜 thanks guys

Big Bad John [Part 2] - Cowboy Like Me

1,415 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. Dollie and John get to know each other a bit more. A/N: Sat my ass down and managed to write this chapter in about three hours. 💪

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“You're a bandit like me

Eyes full of stars

Hustling for the good life

Never thought I'd meet you here

It could be love

We could be the way forward

And I know I'll pay for it”

“cowboy like me” by Taylor Swift

Dollie leads John upstairs and shows him her spare room. It’s not much - quite small, the wallpaper is tattered and coming off the wall in some places, the furniture is quite old, and the bed squeaks when you sit on it. But it’s a place to sleep.

“Well, here’s my spare room,” Dollie says.

John grunts in response. He walks into the room, looking around before sitting on the bed with a loud squeak.

“My room is just down the hall,” Dollie says. “If you need anything just holler.”

“You got any spare clothes?” John asks.

Dollie juts her head toward the wardrobe in the room. “Should be some clothes in there, but don’t count on it. I don’t get visitors a whole lot.”

John nods. “Alright, thank you,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” Dollie says before shutting the door and walking to her room.

Dollie lay awake that night, her mind restless as she thought about John. He wasn’t what she expected. Not at all. The stories painted him as some ruthless outlaw, a gunslinger with blood on his hands, but the man sitting in her saloon tonight had been quiet, almost careful. There was something in his eyes - something thoughtful, something tired.

Her father wouldn’t see that, though. He was the sheriff, and to him, an outlaw was an outlaw. If he found out she had given John a place to stay, there’d be hell to pay.

The next day, Dollie gets up bright and early to open the saloon. She makes a quick breakfast for herself and leaves some out for John when he wakes up. 

She goes downstairs into the saloon and does her normal opening tasks before her first customer walks in.

John finally joins her about midday. The folks in the saloon give him wary glances as he walks up to the bar.

“You heading out?” Dollie asks.

John sits down at the bar and looks up at her. “Think I’ll stick around for a few more days if that’s alright.”

“‘Course,” Dollie says. “My saloon is always open to ya, John.”

John smiles. “Good to hear,” he says. 

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” she asks.

“Just a whiskey.”

“You bet.”

Dollie pours him a drink and goes back to serving other customers. 

She’s not sure how much time has passed, but eventually the sun starts to set. Golden rays of light pour in through the saloon’s windows. 

Just as she’s about to start polishing glasses, a group of three men burst into her saloon. They all wear similar tattered clothes and each wear a cowboy hat. She doesn’t recognize them, but she gets plenty of folks she doesn’t recognize in her saloon all the time.

“How can I help you, boys?” Dollie asks.

“We heard Big Bad John’s in town,” one man says. “Heard he might be here. Just wanted to pay him a visit.”

By the way the man is looking at her and how he said John’s name, Dollie isn’t sure these guys are looking for a friendly chat. But before she can say anything, John gets up and approaches them.

“That would be me,” John says. “What can I do you for?”

“Well, you see,” says another man. “We caught wind of you passin’ through town. You killed our brother a couple years ago. We’ve come to get payback.”

John looks like he’s sizing the three men up. He’s studying them intently, planning his next move. She notices a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. 

Dollie doesn’t like it.

Silence settles in the saloon - thick, heavy. Some patrons back away, some leave entirely. Dollie herself isn’t sure what to do. 

One man shifts on his feet, his hand moving toward his holster.

John takes notice. “Now, I don’t want any trouble,” he says, putting his hands up. “If you boys are smart, you’ll walk away.”

“Is that so?” the man who spoke first - likely the leader - asks. “Funny. Last I heard, Big Bad John doesn’t walk away from no fight.”

Before John can respond, Dollie slams her hand down on the table with a loud thud. The men look at her. 

She shakes her finger at the leader. “That’s enough,” she says. “I don’t care what unfinished business y’all think you got, but it ain’t gettin’ settled under my roof.”

“This ain’t your fight, lady,” the leader sneers.

“It sure is when it’s happening in my saloon,” Dollie retorts. “Now, unless you boys are lookin’ for a drink, I suggest you run along.”

The man who had been reaching for his gun scoffs. “You think you can just send us packin’?” he asks.

“I don’t think,” Dollie says. “I know. This is my saloon. You start trouble, I promise you won’t like how it ends.”

The leader scoffs and juts his chin toward the door. “Let’s go,” he says. “But this ain’t over.”

“It is for now,” Dollie says.

The men make their way toward the door, glaring at Dollie as they do so. She watches them leave and listens as the sounds of their heavy boots get quieter and quieter. 

After a few moments, the saloon goes back to its normal hum of conversation. 

Dollie turns back to John who has returned to his seat at the bar. “You sure do know how to attract trouble,” she says.

John smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not my fault folks don’t know when to let things go.”

She rolls her eyes. “Next time, don’t bring it into my saloon.”

Later that night, Dollie and John stand on Dollie’s balcony, sharing a cigarette. The cool night air feels good on her face and she can just barely see John in the moonlight.

They sit quietly for awhile, just taking turns with the cigarette.

“So, Dollie,” John starts. “How’d you get to own the saloon?”

“Grandpa owned it before me,” she says. “I practically grew up in the saloon. Mom died when I was quite young and dad didn’t know what else to do with me while he was working, so he’d dump me here durin’ the day. Grandpa taught me how to tend the bar when I was about eleven. He taught me everything I know. After he passed, I inherited the saloon. Been runnin’ it by myself ever since.”

“Sorry about your grandfather,” John says.

“Don’t be,” Dollie says, taking a drag of the cigarette before handing it to John. “It happened a while ago.”

The two are quiet for a moment, taking in the night breeze.

“What does your dad do?” John asks, breaking the silence.

Dollie chuckles a bit. “He’s the sheriff, actually.”

She looks over at John - even in the dark, she can see his eyes go wide. 

“He doesn’t know you’re here,” Dollie says. “My dad and I… we ain’t on the best of terms. He don’t approve of me runnin’ the saloon. In fact, he wanted to sell it after grandpa died, but legally, it’s mine. Now, Dad’s set on marrying me off to some guy and convincing him to sell the saloon. But he ain’t found anyone to marry me yet.”

John nods, not adding anything.

“How’d you get into the cowboy life?” Dollie asks.

John exhales, watching the smoke swirl into the night air. “Didn’t have much of a choice. My old man worked cattle. Taught me how to ride and shoot. Figured out real quick that life ain’t always fair. You either get tough or get left behind.”

Dollie studies what she can see of him for a moment, seeing something deeper in his words. “That why you left? To find something better?”

John smiles softly. “Something like that.”

Dollie leans on the railing, very aware of the way John’s side presses against hers. “You ever think of leavin’ the cowboy life behind?” she asks.

John turns his head, his gaze meeting hers in the moonlight. “Some days,” he says.

Neither of them says anything for a moment. The air feels heavier, charged with something neither of them are quite ready to name. 

Without thinking, Dollie shifts closer. John hesitates for only a second and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. The kiss is slow and tentative, almost like they’re feeling this out, trying to figure out what the other is thinking.

When they pull apart, John chuckles. “I didn’t see that comin’,” he says.

“Me neither,” Dollie says, smirking. But she definitely doesn’t regret it.

Previous Part - Next Part

Big Bad John [Part 3] - Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

1,487 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. What the title says. NSFW / MDNI A/N: The smut took me forever to write. I’m no good at smut so if it’s bad, I’m sorry.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“And I was going, just about as far as she'd let me go

But her evaluation of my cowboy reputation

Had me begging for salvation all night long”

“Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” by Big & Rich

Dollie lays in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The scene of John kissing her replays in her head. 

After the kiss, their conversation continued a bit before John called it a night and they returned to their rooms.

She's restless, constantly shifting positions to get comfortable, but to no avail. 

Finally, she gets up and goes into the hallway. A soft light coming from the kitchen casts shadows on the walls. Dollie turns the corner to see John sitting at her kitchen table, drinking out of a glass of water. 

“Couldn't sleep?” John asks as Dollie enters the room. 

“No,” Dollie says. “Kept tossin’ and turnin’. You?”

“Same,” John says. 

Dollie crosses over to her cabinets to grab a cup and fill it with water. She turns around to look at John as she leans against the counter. 

The two are silent for a moment. The tension of their kiss from earlier still twists in the air. She can still feel his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands still lingering on her skin. 

She knows he feels it, too - the ghost of the kiss shared between them, lingering in the silence.

John leans back in his chair, looking at Dollie. “So, that kiss,” he says. “You regret it?”

Dollie exhales, taking a sip of water before setting her cup down on the counter. “Do you?”

“No,” John says, sighing. “But I wonder if you should.”

Dollie cocks her head, a confused look on her face. “Why’s that?”

John looks away, shaking his head. “I ain’t a good man, Dollie,” he says. “I got a past full of trouble.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to be a saint, John,” Dollie says.

He looks back at her. “You should.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Dollie studies John for a moment - his hands make fists at his side and his jaw is clenched.

She scoffs. “You think I ain’t been hurt before?”

“Not the way I mean,” John says.

She walks over to the table, placing her hand on the table in front of him and leaning over him. “You keep talkin’ like you got some kinda say in what I do, John. Like you get to decide what’s best for me.”

His gaze flickers at her. “Maybe I ain’t got no say,” he says. “But that ain’t stoppin’ me from carin’.”

Dollie stills at that. He said it so simply. Like she hadn’t heard that from men like him - men who come and go and don’t leave much behind but their shadows. 

She watches him, how he won’t quite meet her gaze, like he’s waiting for her to call him a liar. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she takes another step closer, standing between his knees.

“John,” she says, her voice a little softer now. “You really think I’m scared of a bit of trouble?”

John finally looks into her eyes, his lip twitching slightly, like he wants to smile, but won’t let himself. “Ain’t a little trouble I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

Dollie tilts her head, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe I don’t care.”

John exhales slowly, his hands making their way to her waist. “You should,” he murmurs, but there’s no longer any weight behind his words.

Dollie smirks. “You keep sayin’ that, but you ain’t exactly pushin’ me away.”

John chuckles. “I’m not,” he says.

A quiet moment passes between them and John pulls her in a bit closer.

Dollie’s fingers travel along his jaw, tracing patterns in his thick mutton chops. “You gonna kiss me again, cowboy?”

John doesn’t respond - at least not with words.

He reaches up to cup her cheek, pulling her toward him. Their lips meet in a slow, deliberate kiss like they know they shouldn’t be doing this but can’t bring themselves to stop.

Dollie sighs into his lips, her fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. His other hand slides up her back, holding her in place as if she’ll slip away.

“Dollie,” John breathes. 

“Yes, John?” Dollie asks, pulling away from his mouth.

John looks her up and down. “Can we please go to my room?”

Dollie nods.

John moves quickly to scoop Dollie off her feet bridal-style. Dollie giggles as he carries her to his room, nudging the door open with his boot and gently setting her down on the bed. But there’s nothing gentle about the way his lips find hers again - desperate, urgent. 

His hands roam her body with reverence and hunger, like he’s trying to memorize her by touch alone. 

“Dollie,” he breathes as he kisses down her jaw and neck. “You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.”

Dollie laces her fingers into his hair, pulling him back up to her lips. “Then show me.”

That’s all he needs.

John smirks. He slips off her nightgown, tossing it away as he pushes her back against the mattress, his weight pressing into the creaky bed. He starts to unbutton his shirt while Dollie fumbles with his belt buckle.

He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor, revealing a body marked by a life on the run - scarred, tanned, and worn in the only way real cowboys are. He then helps Dollie with the belt buckle before throwing his belt across the room and pulling off his jeans and boots. 

Dollie looks up at the man in front of her, admiring him.

John chuckles, noticing her stare. “Ain’t much to look at, I’m afraid,” he says.

“You’re beautiful,” Dollie says. And she means it. Every inch of him is something she wants to explore - to cherish.

John moves to press his weight into the bed once more. “You’re killin’ me,” he says, half in awe, half in agony. “I ain’t ever wanted somethin’ like I want you.”

Their lips crash into each other again. John’s hands rub tiny circles into Dollie’s hip.

Dollie slips a finger into the waistband of John’s boxers. “Take these off,” she breathes.

He does as she tells him, his hard cock bobbing up as he does so. His hands slide down her body to do the same to her.

When their lips meet once more, there's a beat of stillness. No bravado, no games. Just John and Dollie together as if it was always meant to be that way. 

John lines up with her entrance and thrusts into her. Dollie gasps at the feeling of him filling her up. 

When he moves inside her, it's slow and deliberate - like he's savoring each second, like this may be the only time they do this. His breath stutters against her neck as he rocks into her. 

“God, Dollie,” he moans. “I ain't gonna last.”

“You don't have to,” Dollie says. “Just stay with me.”

And he does. Every touch, every kiss, every gasp is full of the kind of need that borders on devotion. 

They move together as if they've done this hundred times before in a dream. Like fate brought John into the saloon for them to find each other. 

John gives his last few thrusts through both of their climaxes, pulling out and laying down next to Dollie. He places his head on her chest. Dollie moves a hand to his head, scratching it gently. 

The room is quiet except for the sounds of their quiet breathing - slow and uneven as if they're trying to come back to earth. 

Eventually, they both drift off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms. 

The next morning, the sound of frantic knocking wakes up Dollie. She pushes John off of her, quickly slips her clothes back on, and gets up to walk over to her door. 

She opens the door and Charlie comes stumbling in - his eyes wide and body trembling. 

“Charlie, what is it?” Dollie asks, reaching out to steady him. 

“Your father,” he gasps, catching his breath. “He uh - he found out about John stayin’ here. He's not happy about it. Says he's on his way.”

“Shit,” Dollie breathes. “Shit, shit shit.”

She rushes over to John's room to wake him. 

“John, you need to leave,” she says. 

John sits up, trying to gather his clothes and groggily puts them on. “Why? Was last night that bad?” he asks, chuckling a bit. 

Dollie stares at him. If she wasn't so terrified of her father, maybe she'd laugh too. “It was amazing, John. But seriously, you need to get out. My father found out that you're here.”

John's eyes widen, he starts to move faster, trying to get his clothes on. 

But it's not enough. 

When Dollie opens the door to let John leave, her dad is standing on the other side. 

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