#john b

THREE - CRESCENDO

SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT:6.4k

MASTERLIST

SONG:CHOPIN’S MAZURKA NO. 19 IN B MINOR, OP. 30, NO. 2

https://open.spotify.com/track/0hGDs64YOGdwvWzMMMM8vg?si=IEoruq6LR2yxlrWGckAozA

✰✰✰

The rest of the night was a blur.

You couldn’t feel Millie’s firm arm around your shoulder guiding your calculated steps towards the car. You couldn’t see Kate drag her boyfriend away from an impending fight. You couldn’t taste the metallic bitterness flooding your mouth from biting your tongue. You couldn’t hear the Range Rover door slam shut behind you.

You could only feel the bitter churn of your stomach. You could only see a mesmerizing ocean blue. You could only taste a burning desire. You could only hear the erratic thump of your heart—or was it his?

You desperately tried to pull herself back to normality. You counted your steps. Left foot, right foot. You drummed Beethoven against your thigh. Op. 41 No. 2. You took deep breaths. In 4 seconds, out 8 seconds.

You paid no mind to Topper’s erratic driving that nearly sent you flying out of your seat. The thundering argument amongst your friends was just white noise. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to climb back into your room in your vexed state. Or how you’d gotten into bed. You weren’t sure how long you stared at the ceiling above in a state of complete shock. You weren’t sure whether you’d slept at all, or how much time had passed.

Was it all just a fever dream?

Because it sure felt like one as you awoke from your restless sleep the next morning.

Your unceasing mind made your head pound. Dark circles graced the underneath of your eyes from a severe lack of sleep. You felt dirty again, like you had to wash away the filth and grime of your own thoughts.

A sharp knock and piercing shout forced your stinging eyes wide open.

“Y/N! Dad wants you in his office!”

You couldn’t muster a reply. Your dull eyes remained trained on the white plaster above as Georgia noisily bounded away from your door and down the hall. You allowed herself to stare into the off-white abyss until your vision blurred and your younger sister’s words finally sunk in.

Your dad finally wanted to speak to you.

You’d nearly forgotten about the blowout with your parents. But in your defense, the past 48 hours felt like an entire week.

You rolled out of bed, peeling your eyes away from the dull ceiling. You ran your fingers through your hair in a lazy attempt to brush the knots out. You sluggishly slid your feet into a pair of slippers and grabbed a silk robe to cover up your pajamas. With sleep still clouding your judgment, you didn’t bother to brush your teeth or make yourself look a little more presentable. Instead, you grabbed the information packets Madame had given you the other day off of your desk and headed towards your father’s office.

Your slipper-clad feet shuffled against the polished floor, and as you walked down the hall, the nerves began to kick in. You were reminded of what deep-shit you were in with your parents. Through the events of last night and your grogginess, you’d forgotten the severity of the situation.

Your father’s office door loomed dreadfully before you. Your heartbeat was erratic, and you felt sweat building up on your palms. You suddenly regretted not taking a few extra minutes to fix your disgruntled appearance. But you knew if you kept her father waiting too long, you would’ve been in even more trouble. So, with a long sigh and shaky hand, you twisted the brass handle of the mahogany door. You didn’t miss a beat. The moment the door swung open, you blurted out,

“I’m sorry.”

Clyde Montgomery let out a low sigh and glanced up from the paperwork spread across his desk. He pushed his glasses from the bridge of his nose to rest on the top of his head and ran his aging hands over his face. He waved one hand in your direction, signaling you to take a seat.

You shuffled into the plush seat across from his desk. Your heart beat violently in your chest and you subconsciously clutched the information packets tighter. Your leg shook with anxiety while you watched your father jot down a few last notes before looking up at you. His hard gaze made you shudder.

“What brought this on, Y/N?”

His calm, calculated tone made your throat dry as you racked your brain for the perfect response. You carefully set the packets down onto his desk so they didn’t touch any of his work. You watched your father furrow his brows and pick up the Berklee College of Music packet before flipping through the others.

“I want to study piano in college,” you barely spoke above a whisper while he rifled through the papers, “Madame Mercier gave me these information packets a couple of days ago. They’re some of the best music programs in the country. She thinks I have a good chance of getting into at least one of these schools, but only if I drop sports to focus on playing piano.”

He clicked his tongue, and you felt like disappearing. His hard face made it difficult to decipher his thoughts, but you were sure he wasn’t very impressed.

“And what do you plan on doing with a music degree?”

You could sense the distaste lacing his even tone.

“Wherever it takes me. I could go into composition, accompaniment, perform professionally. Maybe I could go on and get a Master’s in another area,” you bit the inside of your cheek.

Her father hummed at your response but still didn’t give much away.

“So, you plan to apply on your own and just hope you get in? No connections, no pull, no likely letter?”

You flushed. The way your father spoke about your plan made it sound a lot riskier than you had previously thought.

“Well,” your cleared your throat, “Madame knows of a Juilliard scout who will be vacationing in the Outer Banks in a few weeks. She’ll be setting up a showcase for him to watch. Madame told me that if I’m able to impress him, it will be a huge boost in my application and get the conversation going with Juilliard early.”

Your father perked up at the mention of Juilliard. 

Clyde and Margaret had never approved of careers in the arts or anything else they deemed useless. But they loved name dropping even more than they hated ‘frilly liberal arts degrees’, and Juilliard was a much bigger name drop than any Carolina university.

“Juilliard,” your father hummed to himself while flipping through the packet of the New York school. Behind his stern features hid a greedy glint in his eyes.

You popped your knuckles out of habit while you waited for your father’s reply. You could see the gears turning in his head, but you didn’t dare say a word. Instead, you observed the wrinkles gracing his forehead, the dusted greying of his hair, and the wire-rimmed glasses resting on top.

“I need to talk to your mother first, but if you can get a pull from the scout, we can reconsider your extracurriculars.”

You straightened in your seat and relief flooded your body. You opened your mouth to reply, but your father beat you to it.

“If you don’t impress the scout, you’re going right back on the field. Your mother didn’t put so much effort into connecting you to the South Carolina coach for nothing,” he continued, “Until then, you are expected to continue your tutoring and test prep. You will attend all of your piano lessons. And if you step one foot out of line, you can consider this deal off.”

His folded arms and harsh tone made your skin crawl.

“You will behave. You will have poise. And you will represent the Montgomery family name as it should be represented. Understood?”

You nodded vigorously despite the underlying threat.

“Yes Sir.”

“And please, be easy on your mother. She works way too hard and has enough on her shoulders. She doesn’t need any more stress.”

You felt your neck and face heat up. You nodded again with wide eyes.

“Yes Sir.”

Clyde leaned back in his desk chair with a sigh, rubbing his temple.

“Dixie has agreed to drive you to your lessons this week and give your mother a break. I trust you’ll communicate your lesson times with her and be prompt.”

“I will,” you forced down a groan at the thought of Dixie driving you. You knew it would be a pain in the ass getting your older sister to drop you off and pick you up on time without complaint, but you knew better than to complain.

“Good. Our talk here is done, then. Go clean yourself up and get ready for the day. I have a meeting in 10 minutes,” your father’s attention shifted from you to the work on his desk.

“Yes Sir,” you stood from the chair, “Thank you, Dad. I won’t disappoint you.”

Your father shot you a dismissive nod, which you took as your cue to scurry out of his office and shut the daunting door behind you. A huge weight lifted from your shoulders and you felt like you could breathe a little easier. But despite the temporary relief, you knew you still had a lot of work to do.

You rushed back to your room to get ready for the day with a newfound bounce in your step. Your only worry for the time-being was getting Dixie to drive you to piano practice at 3:00. No thinking about how you were going to explain the events of the night before to your friends, or making up with your mother. But most of all, no JJ, and no soulmate.

✰

“You haven’t practiced.”

You slumped over the keys with a groan, “I’m sorry—”

You yelped as Madame Mercier stabbed her pen into your lower back, “And you’re slouching! Do you want to do this or not? Because I will not teach you if you don’t take this seriously, pas du tout!”

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, gripping slightly at the roots.

“I want it. I just didn’t get a chance to practice yesterday or today.”

You could feel your teacher’s temper rising, so you quickly added, “I had to deal with my parents and, uh,” you coughed before unintelligibly mumbling, “my soulmmmnn.”

Madame Mercier’s glare sharpened, “Your what?”

You gazed up at her through hooded, guilty eyes. Realization dawned over your teacher. The old woman sighed and raised her wrinkled hand to rub the temple of her forehead.

“Merde,” Madame Mercier mumbled.

“He won’t be a problem, Madame. I’ll take care of it,” you sighed.

“You say that now,” the old woman matched your exasperated tone, “It will be far more difficult than you think. You mustn’t forget your priorities.”

You turned to completely face your teacher. You looked the older woman directly in the eye and spoke with confidence, “Please, believe me, Madame, I have my priorities straight. No more sports, no parties, and no soulmate. I want this more than anything.”

Madame Mercier gave you a reluctant stare. You shifted underneath her piercing gaze. The woman clicked her tongue before finally replying.

“Put away the Nocturne. You’ll prepare Fantaisie Impromptu for your showcase.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Chopin’s Fantaisie Impromptu Op. 66 was the most difficult piece you’d ever learned, and while you had a grasp of the notes, you were far from mastering it. The six straight minutes were torture for your hands, and the sixteenth notes layered on triplets were a nightmare.

“But Madame, I’m nowhere near ready with it—“

“If you want this so badly, then you will be ready.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat but you nodded, knowing she was right. You packed up the sheet music spread out across the piano and dug through your bag for the dreaded piece of music. Madame spoke while you spread out the difficult Chopin piece across the music stand.

“You won’t have much time to impress him. You need something short but effective. If you can master a piece that professional pianists only dream of playing, then you are a shoe-in.”

You nodded and straightened your posture with a newfound determination. You wanted this. And you were going to prove it to Madame, to yourself, and to your parents.

The last 30 minutes of your lesson were torturous. The notes were blurring together and the abnormal rhythm was making your head pound. Madame had even stuck a marker underneath your right hand so that each time you lowered it too much, a red dot appeared.

You were mentally exhausted by the time you stood from the bench and packed up your bag.

“Practice, practice, practice,” Madame clapped her hands fervently.

You nodded, “Yes Madame.”

“You are only as good as the hours you put in! N’oublies pas!”

Madame Mercier called behind you, but you were already halfway out the door. She knew you were appreciative, but sometimes lessons could just be so exhausting. 

As you stepped out of her nice home, you braced yourself for the blistering Carolina heat but were enveloped in a wave of humidity instead. The sky was canopied in an ominous, stormy grey, and you could smell the oncoming rain. A soft breeze billowed through the neighborhood, but not enough to mask the wet heat of the Outer Banks.

You hurried down the pathway to wait on the sidewalk for Dixie whom you prayed hadn’t forgotten to pick you up.

"Need a ride?”

Your heart skipped and you jumped in surprise. You whipped around to the source of the voice but immediately regretted doing so.

A shirtless JJ Maybank leaned against a lawnmower in the neighboring yard. The lopsided grin dancing on his lips and the devious glint in his eyes made your blood boil. You let your eyes briefly wander down his toned chest and abs which were glimmering with a sheer layer of sweat. Your gaze flicked back upwards, hoping he hadn’t noticed your wandering eye. The growing smirk on his tanned face told you otherwise.

You tried to swallow down your heart which seemed to have leaped up into your throat.

“I have one,” you squeaked and internally cringed a your tone. You cleared your throat before continuing, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I wasn’t offering.”

You could almost taste the smugness rolling off his tongue. You narrowed your eyes, but he only grinned wider.

With a huff of annoyance, you turned sharply on your heels to face the road. You could feel JJ’s eyes burning into you and you shifted underneath his gaze but fought the urge to look back.

“You know,” JJ’s voice made your hair stand on end, “I just saw a Mercedes-Benz E-Class pull up around 10 minutes ago. Seemed pretty eager to leave.”

Your body heated with frustration. Dixie must have left you. How long had you been in Madame Mercier’s house? You ignored JJ’s watchful eye and dug your phone out of your bag to check the time.

4:07.

You scoffed. You were only seven minutes late. Would it have killed Dixie to wait a little bit longer?

“Bitch,” you grumbled to yourself while shoving your phone back in your bag.

“Problem?” JJ hummed.

You rolled your eyes even though you knew JJ couldn’t see you.

“Nope. Perfect day for a walk,” you quipped.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, countering your statement. You could feel the boy smirking behind you and you forced down a groan. Instead, you hiked your bag higher on your shoulder and began your 30-minute walk down the sidewalk.

“Walk fast,” JJ yelled, “I don’t really feel like getting drenched. Or struck by lightning.”

You quickened your pace and blindly flipped him a freshly manicured middle finger. JJ’s hearty laugh made your knees buckle. You yearned to spin around and march over to the sweaty boy to finish what you’d started last night.

But, for once, your logic trumped your desire.

You all but ran away from your piano teacher’s house and your soulmate. The last thing you needed was another reminder of the night before, let alone a run-in with JJ.

Another wave of thunder rumbled in the distance, and you clutched your bag tighter. The feelings you’d been suppressing since the night before crashed over you alongside the oncoming storm.

You still didn’t know how to make sense of the night before. You didn’t understand the almost magnetic urge to run back to your soulmate, and why you couldn’t just will it away. You let her mind slip back to the feeling of JJ’s lips brushing against your bare shoulder. Just imagining it sent a jolt of electricity up your spine. You would never have guessed the stupid book in your library was right. Touching your soulmate for the first time truly was a feeling like no other, and you longed to graze your skin against his one more time.

As your thoughts escalated, the storm grew closer. The sky was getting darker, and your mind was working even harder.

You couldn’t deal with a soulmate right now, even if you wanted to. You had priorities. You hadn’t worked so hard for the past 15 years only to fuck it up because of some boy on the other side of town. Your sinful thoughts of his chapped lips and messy hair were fueled by greed. 

You only desired JJ. You lovedpiano.

“You’re fucking kidding me!”

The clouds broke and water poured down all at once. The drops were violent and unceasing, soaking you instantly. It was like someone was dumping bucket after bucket of water over your head. You stomped into an already-formed puddle on the sidewalk in frustration.

Screw Dixie, and screw JJ.

You moved to dig your phone out of your bag, but decided against it. It was pouring so hard, you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to use it without getting serious water damage. Instead, you broke into to the quickest jog you could manage through the storm.

The roaring thunder and crying sky made it nearly impossible to hear anything else. But you could just barely make out a loud honk from behind you. You whipped around and squinted through the water running down your face

Through the pelting rain, You could make out the silhouette of a beat-down pickup truck identical to the one Pope picked you up in the day before. It slowed into a stop right beside you. The window rolled down a few inches; just enough so a familiar pair of mischievous eyes could peek out.

“Need a ride?”

If looks could kill, JJ Maybank would be 10 feet under.

“I thought you weren’t offering,” you scowled, setting off on a brisk walk again.

The truck lurched forward to keep up.

“Well, you feel pretty fuckin’ miserable. Which means I feel miserable. So do us both a favor and get in.”

You stopped abruptly and JJ slammed on the brake. You spun around to face the truck. Your arms were crossed and your glare was menacing. You weren’t sure whether JJ could make out your less-than-friendly features, but he certainly felt the annoyance bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t be fuckin’ stubborn,” he groaned.

You ignored the voice in the back of your head urging you to keep walking. You knew you’d regret it, but you marched towards the other side of the truck nevertheless. You yanked open the passenger door and hopped inside in one quick motion. You sighed in subpar relief once the door had shut behind you. The inside of the truck was nice and dry, but you were still completely soaked.

“Better?” JJ snickered.

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you disregarded the Pogue and leaned over in your seat to wring your hair out. Water dripped all over the floor of the truck, creating a large puddle.

You felt JJ move closer to you and you stiffened. You glanced at your soulmate out of the corner of your eye.

JJ had twisted his body and leaned over the backseat to rummage around a large duffel bag. You gave in to your curiosity and shifted to face him.

“What are you—“

You were cut off by a large piece of fabric hitting you in the face. You spluttered in shock and pulled the bundled clothing away from your face.

JJ didn’t spare you a glance and leaned back into his seat, “It’s clean, use it to dry off. Unless you enjoy looking like a drowned rat.”

You sent him a scowl, but JJ had busied himself with unlocking the emergency brake. You unraveled the balled-up fabric to reveal a dark green flannel. You cocked a brow at the boy next to you, but he was revving the engine of the truck. You held the flannel away from her body in contemplation.

JJ must have noticed your hesitation.

“I know you’re used to Prada, Montgomery, but you’re gonna have to settle for that.”

Your cheeks flushed as you realized how distasteful your actions must have come across. You shot the boy a challenging glare while simultaneously pulling on the worn flannel. It was much too large for you and you felt like you were swimming in the material, but it was oddly comforting. You reveled in the lingering smell of spearmint, weed, and grass.

“You’re welcome,” JJ grumbled rhetorically while pulling the car out onto the road.

You grunted but didn’t respond. You opted to rest your head against the window instead.

JJ rolled his eyes at your silence, “What, you mute or something?”

You clenched your jaw, “You are such an energy sucker, Maybank.”

The boy only laughed. You watched him flick on the windshield wipers. They moved fast in an attempt to create more visibility and squeaked violently while doing so. It seemed the rain was coming down harder by the second, and the wipers were virtually useless against the downpour. You squinted your eyes to try and get a good view out of the window, but the road was just a wet blur. You weren’t sure how the hell JJ was managing to stay on the road.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, a pair of rapidly approaching bright lights appeared in the window followed by a long honk.

“Shit!”

You screeched and JJ swerved out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. The boy tried to redirect the car into the right lane, but with little to no visibility, the task proved to be quite difficult.

“Are you trying to kill us?” you hissed at him.

His jaw clenched and just when he thought he’d made it back in the right lane, another pair of blinding lights raced towards them. Another loud honk, another terrified scream from you, and another swerve to the side.

“Oh my God, do you even know how to drive? Pull over,” you yelled, gripping onto the handlebar above.

JJ sharply jerked the car to the right until he felt dirt and gravel underneath the wheels. He killed the engine and whipped around to face you with a glare.

“If I’m such a bad driver, then you do it.”

The Pogue unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to climb over the console.

Your eyes widened, “I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t?” he deadpanned.

Heat crawled up your neck.

You mumbled back, “I don’t have a license.”

JJ narrowed his eyes with an incredulous expression, “So you’re gonna sit there and bitch about my driving when you don’t even know how?”

“You nearly killed us. Twice,” you bit back with malice.

“I can’t see shit!” JJ waved his arms aggressively.

You redirected your glare from your soulmate to the window ahead which was covered in a cloudy grey from the unceasing downpour. The hard pelts of water and rolling thunder had forced both of you to amplify your voices.

JJ huffed and moved to restart the car, but was stopped by your shrieking voice, “Do you have a death wish? You can’t drive in this!”

He jerked the keys out of the ignition and leaned back in his seat with a groan, “What do you wanna do then? Just sit here?”

You rolled your eyes. You moved to open the car door so you could leave, but JJ’s grumbling voice stopped you.

“If I can’t drive then you can’t walk.”

You huffed but reluctantly leaned back into your seat with an exasperated sigh.

“So, we’re stuck,” JJ deadpanned.

“Astute observation,” you quipped.

The boy muttered something under his breath, but you couldn’t catch it over the raging storm outside. You stared out of the window hopelessly. Your leg shook, and you began popping your knuckles.

JJ jumped slightly beside you and cradled his right hand, “Can you stop fuckin’ doing that?”

You cocked a brow. Your eyes bore through his. “What, this?” you waved your hand in front of his face mockingly before cracking all of the knuckles on your left hand in one swift motion.

“Damn it,” JJ hissed, shaking his hand.

You leaned back in your seat with a satisfied grin. You gazed out of the window to see if the rain had slowed yet, but to no avail. In an attempt to drown out the incessant storm, you leaned forward to fiddle around with the radio.

JJ lazily watched you poke around until you found the ‘ON’ button. You instantly regretted pressing it, though. The volume was loud and with the storm disrupting the connection, ear-piercing white noise filled the car. You yelped and JJ cringed as you scrambled to turn it back off.

You huffed in defeat and leaned back against the seat.

“I’ll sing for you,” JJ smirked.

“Shut up.”

Just as you were about to give up and take a nap, you remembered the CDs inside all of your music books. You hauled your drenched backpack from the ground and unzipped it. You let out a sigh of relief once you saw none of your books were damaged from the water.

JJ watched with curious eyes while you rummaged through the bag. It didn’t take long for you to pull out a CD from the depths of your books. You flipped open the case and gingerly held the disk between your thumb and forefinger. You popped it into the CD player of the old truck and grinned once the introduction to Sonata no. 26 in E-flat Major sounded through the speakers. It was muffled by the rain but made the situation slightly more tolerable.

JJ crinkled his nose and snatched the case from your hands (careful not to accidentally touch them). He held it up to his face and his brows stitched together.

“Beeth Oven? What kind of shit do you listen to?”

You whipped around to face him. Your jaw was dropped and your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Beethoven?” you screeched.

The dumb look on his face answered your question.

“Oh my God, how uncultured are you? It’s Beethoven, for Christ’s sake. Everyone has heard of Beethoven. He’s, like, the father of music!”

JJ’s nose twitched and his lips tugged into a frown. His face contorted with concentration while he turned the volume up. He listened in silence to the arpeggios layered with triplets. You knew you shouldn’t stare, yet you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in studying his features. His eyes were trained on the misty windshield, but you could tell he was listening by the way his lips twitched when there was a crescendo and his eyes squinted slightly when there was a ritardando. Both of you relished in the sounds of rain and piano for the next few minutes. A few seconds after the Sonata had ended and another began, the silence was broken.

“Not my usual style, but it’s different, I guess. You ever seen him in concert? Beefoven?”

You went to roll your eyes again, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of your lips and the giggle in your throat. He was clueless.

“Beethoven,” you emphasized the correct pronunciation, “is dead. He died in, like, the 1800s.”

“And you still listen to him?”

This time, you did roll your eyes.

“JJ, he’s one of the greatest composers of all time. He’s played all over the world. He wrote some of the most extraordinary orchestra pieces while he was going deaf. He revolutionized the transition from the Classical Era to the Romantic Era—“

You blabbered, but trailed off upon realizing you were losing JJ. His face was twisted with confusion.

“What’s the—“

“Don’t worry about it,” you sighed.

JJ nodded and listened to the muffled music for a minute or so before speaking again.

“So, you play the piano then? That’s why your hands get so achy.”

You gazed lazily at him, “Yeah. That’s why they’re achy.”

JJ nodded. He closed his mouth but re-opened it as more questions came flooding in.

“Do I ever fuck up your playing then? You know, when I beat people up and shit.”

You raised a freshly plucked brow at him, “More like when people beat youup. And yeah,” your voice dripped with annoyance at the reminder of all the times your practices had been interrupted, “You know that incessant swatting that always comes right after? Like someone’s beating you with a book?”

JJ nodded.

“That’s Madame. My teacher. She hates you, by the way.”

The Pogue chuckled softly. Your lips twitched at the comforting sound.

“She thinks you’re un connard,” you giggled.

JJ’s brows pinched together in perplexity.

“What’s a—“

“You don’t wanna know.”

JJ laughed and leaned his head against the window. You watched his eyes drift shut for a moment, relishing in the soothing combination of rain and classical music. You mimicked his actions, and let your mind wander off.

The silence between you two was comfortable, and you hadn’t even realized how quickly the tense situation had defused. You’d barely ever spoken to JJ before, apart from passing insults in years past. But one conversation with him made it feel like you’d known him forever. As much as JJ had a way of winding you up, you were beginning to realize he just as easily put you at ease.

And that realization was unsettling.

You chewed your bottom lip. You were sure JJ could feel it, but didn’t say anything; he must have been deep in thought as well. You stared out at the pelting rain for who-knows-how-long. Each time a song ended, you opened uryo mouth to speak, only to shut it again. Finally, after Sonata No. 21 in C Major, you mustered up the courage.

“You know I still mean what I said last night.”

JJ hummed.

“I know.”

Annoyance pooled in your belly at his unbothered answer.

“You remember what I said, right?”

“Yep.”

It spread from your belly to your chest.

“I don’t do this soulmate thing.”

“Good.”

It traveled up your body and to your head. Your short-temper was getting the best of you.

“God, can you stop doing that?” your voice was gruff with irritation.

“Doing what?” JJ sounded nonchalant as ever as if he was trying to egg you on.

Your voice rose, “Giving me one-word answers! I’m trying to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want a soulmate, and I don’t think you get that.”

JJ’s seemingly calm composure snapped. He lifted his head from the window to narrow his eyes at you.

“How dense do you think I am? You made your point loud and clear. Did you not hear me agree with you every single time?”

You rolled your eyes, “One-word affirmations while you’re simultaneously making a move on me cancel each other out.”

Now you were egging him on. And it was working.

JJ let out a dry laugh and inched closer with a vicious fire blazing in his eyes, “This might come as quite the shocker, but the world doesn’t actually revolve around Y/N Montgomery. It might in your little Kook mansion with your pathetic friends, but this is real life, baby, and no one gives a shit.”

You were fuming now. Your lips curled into a sneer, but JJ continued.

“You don’t want a soulmate, and neither do I, princess. And if you did, I’d still dump you on your ass. I don’t want you,” he jabbed a finger towards you, “Clear enough?”

The lingering reminder of the soulmate bond was out the window. In one quick motion, you raised your arm in the air. You swung it towards JJ’s face, but his own arm shot out. He caught your wrist in his hand.

The fire burning in your eyes extended to the rest of your body as a pulse of electricity shot through both of you like the night before. You tried to jerk your arm away, but JJ’s grip only tightened.

Your knees buckled and your body slumped. You tried to hold onto your anger, but the current of euphoria infiltrating your veins was too much. You stared into the eyes that had been plaguing you thoughts all day and night. Last night, they were a calm, ocean blue. Now they were stormy, much like the rain outside, but just as mesmerizing. You were completely helpless, vulnerable to the bond you so detested.

You could only watch as the raging blue inched closer. Were you moving too? As the distance between you decreased, the grip on your wrist tightened, sending more electrifying shocks through you body.

Your gaze shifted from the dark blue of his eyes to the freckles on his nose. And slowly to the pink of his lips.

The hand around your wrist was almost painful at this point. Couldn’t he feel it too? But you were too focused on the taunting millimeters between your lips. And so was he.

They brushed. Just barely. But the bliss was like no other.

Your wrist cried for relief, but you didn’t care.

You knew you’d regret it, but you didn’t care.

In one swift motion, you lurched forward.

Your lips were finally against his. They were chapped and your teeth crashed together and it was messy, but it was perfect. Serotonin pumped through your veins, and for a split second, you didn’t care about the storm, or your parents, or the Juilliard scout.

But as the exhilaration kicked in, so did the screaming pain in your wrist.

You parted her lips to cry out, but JJ had already released you. The two of you jolted away from each other, each rubbing your right wrists. You didn’t dare look at JJ and he didn’t dare look at you.

You felt guilt and embarrassment bubble in the pit of oury stomach. Mostly your own for trying to slap him, but you also felt JJ’s. His guilt was a sharper pain that tugged violently at your heart.  

You pulled your legs to your chest and sunk into JJ’s flannel. His guilt on top of yours was overwhelming, but you were too scared to say anything. Instead, you shifted your body so you were facing the side window. You watched droplets that resembled tears roll down, one after another. You realized your Beethoven CD was still playing, but the beautiful sound now left a bitter taste in your mouth. You let her eyes flutter closed in an attempt to shut out your own embarrassment and JJ’s painful guilt.

Neither of you uttered a word. You felt yourself slowly slipping from consciousness, but before you were completely out, you softly pressed your lips against your wrist. The action alleviated both JJ’s pain and your own, and with that, your eyes shut completely.

The feeling of your lips against your wrist sent a shiver up JJ’s spine, but it was warmed his body. A small weight lifted off his shoulders, but he was still left with a twisting in his gut.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

He was just being decent. Giving you a ride home so you wouldn’t have to walk in the rain. JJ was supposed to keep his distance. You were better off without each other. He was notsupposed to kiss you back.

The Pogue didn’t dare glance over at you. He only watched and listened. He listened to the sound of Beethoven begin to drown out the pouring rain. And he watched as the stormy grey of his windshield turned to a blurry, but visible road.

JJ sighed and shifted in his seat. Soft snores sounded beside him, indicating that you had fallen asleep. With the rain ceasing and you sleeping, it was his perfect escape.

JJ lazily revved the engine of the truck. It roared to life, but not enough to wake the you. He maneuvered the vehicle back onto the deserted road and accelerated until he was almost 20 miles over the speed limit. JJ needed to get out of the truck as fast as he could. Drop you off, go to John B’s, down a couple of bottles, find someone to keep him company

He needed to forget.

JJ’s eyes remained trained on the road ahead for the entirety of the 7-minute drive. Beside him, you had begun to stir, but through his tunnel vision, he didn’t notice.

You squinted your eyes groggily. The rumbling underneath and the bumping of your shoulder against the window told you that the rain had stopped and JJ was driving again. You were awake, but your eyes remained shut. You didn’t dare open them until the truck pulled to a jerky stop just minutes later.

Your dull, tired eyes fluttered open. You glanced out the window to catch sight of the mansion you knew so well up ahead. You shifted in your seat so you were sitting upright and reached for your bag. Silently, you swung the bag over your shoulder and popped open the creaking door of the red truck.

JJ didn’t spare you a glance. But you were avoiding his gaze anyways.

There was no goodbye exchanged, no thank you, no see you later. You blindly slammed the door shut behind you and within seconds, the truck had zoomed off.

You were alone. Alone with your frizzy hair and JJ’s flannel. Alone with the impending doom of calling Topper and coming home 2 hours late. 

But worst of all, you were alone with a bitter reminder of why you weren’t meant to be with the one person your heart longed for most.

-

taglist:

@obxlife@ilovedogs1989@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6@justsomegirlontheinternet@iamaunicorn4704@lopineapples@http-cherries@k-k0129@oopsiedoopsie23@ponyboys-sunsets@obxmxybxnk@coloradogirl07@thelonelyumbrella@danicarosaline@ethereallust@kahnacademyforfun@bxmaaa@deathcompass@planetsarenice-love@duskangxl@arianawills​@sweetlysilent​@thestorysofargone​@stargazingstarkey​@yesp0ny​@rudyypankow​@agirlwholovescoffee​@onlygetaway​@mitchloveswriting​@asapkyndall​@hausenfluck​@hood-and-horan​@outrbanks​@velvetxvignette​@hariosborn​@kt219567​ 

-

so sorry for the wait! i was out of town for 5 days and got super behind! hoping to get the next chapter out sooner! let me know what you think so far, i’m basically winging this whole series, so feedback would be greatly appreciated!!

TWO - ALLEGRETTO

SUMMARY:in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

SONG:BEETHOVEN’S PIANO SONATA NO. 17 IN D MINOR OP. 31, NO. 2, “THE TEMPEST”

https://open.spotify.com/track/6G1V1TM0TeHfQzIQSEKCsH?si=g42vj6GORMi6HTnGGJBCSw

✰✰✰

You never got hangovers. It was a running joke in your friend group. No matter how much you drank, how wasted you got, it just never happened. The last time you could remember getting so much as a headache from drinking was at Kate’s 15^thbirthday party. You’d honestly forgotten what being hungover felt like.

And you wish you hadn’t been reminded.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Your eyes shot open and you instinctively flailed your arms out to shut off your phone.

Your head was pounding. And not just your average migraine pounding, no. It felt like it was about to implode. You squinted your eyes open only to immediately shut them closed against the burning light. You finally got a hold of your phone and blindly turned it off, effectively cutting off the piercing alarm.

You forced your eyes open a second time but raised your arm to shield them from the light. Disgruntled, you tried to pull yourself but regretted it instantly as nausea seized you.

You pushed through your blistering headache and churning stomach, hauling yourself. Confusion cascaded over you as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings. You weren’t in the queen-size bed you knew so well, but on a couch in a very much destroyed living room. Your eyes widened as you realized you were still in Topper’s house.

Your stomach twisted and your gut churned.

You bolted for the nearest bathroom down the hallway and barely made it inside before emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Each time you thought you were done, another wave of sickness hit you. It was never-ending. Your head was spinning now and your vision had begun to blur. Once you’d puked up all that you could, you collapsed against the side of the toilet. Sweat had gathered above your brow, but you couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off.

You felt a weak slap against your thigh.

For a split second, you felt guilty for putting your soulmate through your agony, but annoyance quickly replaced the guilt. One hangover didn’t even begin to compare to the number of punches, kicks, and broken bones he’d put you through.

“Fuck off,” you grumbled as if he could hear you.

You let your hand fall limp against your thigh in the spot that he’d slapped. You lightly dragged your fingernail across your skin, spelling out

K-A-R-M-A.

He didn’t respond, and if you weren’t feeling like complete shit, you would’ve felt very smug.

The nausea seemed to have left you, but your blistering headache was more stubborn. Just as you let your eyes slip shut, panic finally kicked in You were supposed to come back home last night, and you had no idea what time it was now. You grabbed your phone to check the time.

6:07 AM

Millie: i’m so sorry u blacked out last night and i didn’t wanna bring u home unconscious

Millie:i would’ve brought u home w me but my dad would kill both of us

Millie:i set u an alarm tho so u could maybe get home before ur fam wakes up

Millie:btw nice job w Rafe last night ;)

Your cheeks flushed red at the last line. You prayed that Rafe didn’t have any recollection of the night before and that the two of you hadn’t drawn too much attention. Your embarrassment left as quickly as it came as you looked at the time again.

6:07.

If you weren’t home in the next 15 minutes, you were so busted.

You fought through your dizziness and hauled yourself up. You jumped in shock as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared, you had raccoon eyes, and your hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a week; not to mention your shorts and tube top were sticky with beer. You stared into your own bloodshot eyes and realized how completely screwed you were

You rushed out of the bathroom and to the front room of Topper’s house. A few other sleeping teenagers were scattered around the house, but none you knew. You debated going upstairs to search for Topper but decided against it. It would probably take at least 30 minutes to wake him up, let alone convince him to drive you home.

Your heart and head were thumping and you knew time was ticking. You groaned and ran out the front door. The blinding sunlight made you want to turn around, but you broke into a sprint despite your protesting body.

You liked running. It was one of your favorite things to do in the early morning. Running cleared your mind and made you feel energized for the rest of the day.

But not with a raging hangover.

You barely made it a few blocks before you had to stop as the nausea from earlier seized you again. You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to keep it down, but to no avail. You lurched forward and puked in a nearby bush, praying the owner of the house wasn’t watching. Tears of frustration pricked at your eyes as you took deep breaths in and out. You readied yourself to continue running, but black spots clouded your vision.

“Hey!”

You whipped around, instantly regretting the sharp movement. You squinted through your blurred vision and took a moment to steady yourself. You were finally able to make out the shape of a worn-down, red pickup truck. Pope Heyward sat in the driver’s seat with his head leaning out of the window.

Any other day, you would have been surprised. But at that moment, surprises were so beyond you.

“You need a ride?” he called out.

You didn’t hesitate to weakly answer, “Yes, please.”

“Montgomery Mansion?” he asked while opening the passenger side door for you.

You nodded and clambered inside, swinging the door shut behind you. Your head fell back against the seat and you sighed in relief. You weren’t sure how much longer you could’ve gone without passing out.

“Rough night?” the boy chuckled at your disgruntled state.

You wiped your mouth, suddenly subconscious of how badly you probably reeked of alcohol and vomit.

“Topper’s big birthday bash,” you grumbled in response.

“Sounds awful,” he quipped.

You cracked a smile despite your miserable state.

You’d seen the Heyward boy around the island many times before, but you’d never really talked. He was in the inner circle of the Pogues, and you were a Kook through and through. But you’d never minded Pope; he seemed much kinder than some of his friends (namely John B and JJ Maybank, the well-known trouble makers of the island).

“Why are you helping me?” you cocked a brow at the Pogue.

He snuck a glance at you with a soft smile, “Would you rather I left you?”

“Well, no,” you laughed, but instantly winced as you were reminded of your headache, “But you didn’t have to. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything nice for you.”

He nodded and averted his gaze back to the road ahead, “Well, I guess now you owe me one.”

“Sounds fair,” you gave him a small smile which he caught out of the corner of his eye.

You scanned the inside of the car, eyes landing on a crumpled-up receipt and a pen in the cup holder. You grabbed both and flattened the paper against the dashboard. You could feel Pope’s curious gaze but ignored him. You messily scrawled your phone number, trying not to concentrate on your writing as it made your head hurt. You folded the crumpled-up receipt and placed it back inside the cup holder, turning to face the teenager.

“For when you need to cash in that favor.”

He nodded with an affirmative hum.

It wasn’t long until the truck approached the large, white mansion you called home. Dread filled you at the prospect of sneaking in without getting caught. Pope parked the car on the side of the dirt road a few yards away from the looming, gated entrance. The quick moment of relief you’d had in his truck was over, and panic flooded your body all over again.

“Nice place,” he laughed dryly.

You rolled your eyes but shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks for the ride, you’re a life saver. See you around!”

You clambered out of the truck, swung the creaking door shut behind you, and sprinted towards your house. Pope waved and revved the engine, but you were already at the gate rapidly punching in the code. You didn’t wait for the gates to fully open and slipped inside as soon as you could. Your vision was beginning to blur again and your blood was pumping hard, but you ran through the pain.

As you approached the mansion, you realized there was no way you could walk through the front door without getting caught. You opted for a side entrance instead. Your blood was hot in your veins as you crept along the side of the mansion. You could only pray that the Montgomery family wouldn’t be up so early on a Saturday morning.

Anxiety flooded your body as you approached the East Wing side door. You hastily punched in the code and cracked the door open slowly, peeking in first. The hallway was empty and you couldn’t detect any noises. Still on edge, you slipped inside and carefully closed the door shut behind you as to not make any noise.

“What are youdoing?”

You shrieked and jumped, nearly losing your footing. The headache you’d grown accustomed to came back more violently than before. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you spun around.

Georgia stood in the middle of the hallway, hands on her hips. She had a vicious glint in her eyes and she stared you down, knowing she’d caught you sneaking in after a night out. She wore a white tennis skirt and matching top with her hair in a high ponytail. You mentally cursed yourself as you realized you’d forgotten Georgia’s 7 AM private tennis lessons every Saturday.

“Minding my own business,” you grit your teeth, “shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

The 14-year-old snarled, “No, you’re sneaking in. And you reek. Mom and Dad are so going to kill you.”

You forced down the urge to strangle her, “George if you keep your mouth shut I will do anything you want. Money, clothes, whatever. Just don’t tell Mom and Dad or I swear to God—”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad what?” a sharp voice snapped from the end of the hallway.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Dread filled you and you watched Georgia’s lips take the shape of a sneer, too scared to look behind her.

Georgia stepped aside and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of your mother.

“Oh no,” you mumbled to yourself as another familiar wave of nausea seized you. You covered your mouth, but to no avail, as your twisting insides were too much.

Georgia squealed and scurried away as she realized what was happening. You lurched forward and spilled the contents of your stomach for the third time that morning all over the polished, marble floor.

You didn’t need to look up to know your mother’s face was redder than a tomato and her body was shaking with fury.

“Clyde!”

Her piercing voice echoed throughout the house, and you heard the thundering footsteps of your father as you took deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself.

“What the hell is this?” your father’s voice boomed.

“’M sorry,” you cried, tears pricking at your eyes. Your body began to tremble in fear. You couldn’t muster up the courage to look at your fuming parents.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of your soulmate massaging your abdomen in a comforting manner. He definitely felt your trembling body, and while his actions didn’t erase your fear, they gave you enough confidence to raise your head and face your mother and father.

“This is what you do with your free time? While your sisters are planning out their futures, while we are paying for your education, you’re off getting drunk and coming back the next day looking like some 5-dollar whore? You are an embarrassment to this family, Y/N,” your mother’s unapologetic voice shook with rage.

Your stomach leapt into your throat and you desperately blinked back tears of humiliation.

“Mom, please–”

“No. Daughters of mine don’t act like this. Being a Montgomery is a privilege, Y/N. When you abuse privileges, you lose them.”

The dam broke and the first tear trailed down your face.

“Margaret, I’ll handle this,” your father mumbled, squeezing her shoulder in a calming manner.

Despite his calm exterior, his eyes were hard with fury.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to clean up your mess,” he gestured to your vomit covering the floor, “and then you’re going to go clean yourself up. You’re going to go your field hockey lesson, and then you’re coming right back here. You will go straight to your room, you will do your tutoring work, and you will not so much as show your face to anyone else in this household.”

“I can’t,” you blubbered, but instantly regretted it.

Your mother’s body trembled with fury. Your father’s face was turning red, and if his eyes weren’t menacing before, they surely were now.

His voice dropped an octave as he spoke, “You can’t what?”

“I can’t go to field hockey,” you barely spoke above a whisper

You’d never wanted to run away more. You desperately needed an escape, but luck wasn’t in your favor.

“And what exactly makes you unable to attend the lesson we’re paying for?” your father grit his teeth.

You could tell your mother was about to explode, and your father wasn’t far behind. Your throat dried and fat tears rolled down your cheeks. Just as you were about to retract your words, you felt the ghost of a hand squeeze your shaking hand. An invisible thumb rubbed the back of your hand soothingly. The touch of your soulmate made your hair stand on end, but again gave you the confidence to continue.

“I’m quitting.”

The ticking time bomb inside your mother burst.

Fear filled your watery eyes as she stormed towards you. She gripped your wrist, digging her nails into your skin, and yanked you away from the mess you’d created.

She raised her arm high. It was one fluid motion. You didn’t realize what was happening until a sharp pain exploded on the left side of your face and your head jerked to the side. A strangled cry escaped your lips and you instinctively brought your hands to your face. As you held your stinging cheek, you felt something wet and sticky on your fingertips.

“Ungrateful brat,” she seethed, “Do you have any idea how much money we spend every month just so you can play? The only thing you’re good for, because God knows you’re going nowhere otherwise!”

Your tears had stopped, but your watery eyes clouded your vision.

“I need to focus on piano,” you spoke so quietly, you were surprised they heard.

Another wave of rage cascaded over your mother, but your father intervened.

“Margaret, we’ll talk about this later,” he gripped her shoulder, pulling her away from you.

You would’ve been grateful for his intervention if it weren’t for his deep-set glare. You could tell he was just as furious as your mother; he was just keeping a cooler head.

“You, up to your room. Don’t come out,” his eerily even tone was haunting.

You nodded and took it as your cue to escape, but stopped at your mother’s shrieking voice, “You’re just going to let her go? And what about the mess?”

“The maid will clean it. Georgia needs to get to practice and I have a meeting. We will deal with this later,” his voice remained steady, but rose as he turned to you, “What are you still doing here? Go!”

You ran down the hallway on wobbly legs. Your mother and father’s bickering voices echoed throughout the halls, but you tuned them out. The tears began to escape again as you ran up the stairs. Your throat tightened while you unsuccessfully tried to hold back your sobs. You stumbled into your room and slammed the door shut behind you.

The moment you flopped onto your bed and buried your face in your pillow, you felt an instant release. Tears and snot flowed freely down your face, and you couldn’t care less that you were damaging your silk sheets. You weren’t sure how long you cried for, and you weren’t sure why you were so hysterical.

This certainly wasn’t the first time you’d felt the seeping disappointment of your parents, but this was the first time in a long time you’d managed to really set them off. Even worse, you knew that even after it was all resolved, they wouldn’t forget. Your mother would make sure to remind you of it every day.

They’re only angry because they care, you told yourself,you’re the one who failed them.

Fear dawned on you. What if your mother was right? What if piano didn’t work out? What if you weren’t able to get into any of the programs Madame showed you? You’d have nothing. Maybe you were too quick to quit field hockey and lacrosse.

Your inner conflict made your head spin, and you were reminded of the headache you’d been sporting all morning. Your cries slowly subsided until they were only occasional sniffles and hiccups. Exhaustion crashed over you, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your mind was still whirlwinding with thought, but you allowed your body to relax.

Before you completely slipped from consciousness, you squeezed your hand into a firm fist and released it. As much as you detested your soulmate 95% of the time, you hoped he would understand the motion as a ‘thank you’. With that last thought, you drifted into a restless sleep.

✰

When you awoke for the second time that day, you were greeted with yet another headache. This one, however, wasn’t from your hangover (which you seemed to have slept off). It was one of those headaches you get from crying yourself to sleep; that dull, unpleasant feeling that makes your head throb.

Your throat was extremely dry, and you didn’t need to look in a mirror to know your eyes were puffy as well. The covers were suffocating, and sweat clung to your body. You felt disgusting, to say the least. As you forced yourself awake, you noticed how dark your room was. With the curtains drawn shut, you had no sense of time.  

You blindly rummaged through the covers for your phone, eventually pulling the device from underneath your pillow. The glowing screen elicited a groan from you and you scrambled to turn down the brightness.

5:26 P.M.

You were suddenly wide awake. You tossed the covers off your body and jerked up into a sitting position. The rapid movement made your vision spot, but you ignored it as you scrolled through the notifications you’d missed throughout the entire day.

10:08 AM Millie: u get home ok?

12:36 PM Kate: rafe cameron u dirty dirty girl

12:38 PM Topper: why

12:39 PM Topper: u disgust me

1:49 PM Millie: u got busted didn’t u

4:34 PM Unknown: i’m cashing in my favor

You skipped over the texts from Kate and Topper; you could no longer be bothered by what you did under the influence with Rafe.

Your brows pinched together as you read over the message from the unknown number. It dawned on you that you’d given Pope your number after he gave you a ride earlier that morning, although it felt like days ago. You frowned while your fingers hovered over your keyboard.

to Unknown:

what do u need?delivered 5:28 PM

You proceeded to type out a reply to the rest of your friends.

to Millie:

yea, fill u in later. just woke up delivered 5:30 PM

to Topper:

fuck off delivered 5:31 PM

to Kate:

ur one to talk. get off ur boyfriend delivered 5:33 PM

You tossed your phone onto your nightstand and pulled yourself completely out of bed. The wooden floor was cool underneath your feet, and you were suddenly aware of your attire.

You were still wearing the same alcohol-soaked clothes from the night before.

You scrunched your nose up in disgust and headed straight for your bathroom, stripping along the way. Even with the clothes off your body and discarded in the hamper, you still felt disgusting. You avoided your reflection in the mirror as you turned on your shower and hopped in.

The cool water was soothing against your hot, sweaty skin. You let the steady stream wash away the dirt and grime and wished it could wash away your problems too. The cold water was exactly what you needed, but you could feel your soulmate shivering at the sensation. You rolled your eyes as you then shivered in turn, reluctantly setting the water to a warmer temperature.

You ignored your grumbling stomach while you shampooed and conditioned your hair, watching the soapy water swirl down the drain. Your movements were lazy and you took your time. Despite sleeping all day, you were completely drained of energy.

You felt a little bit better once you stepped out of the shower and wrapped your dripping body in a towel. At least you were clean. You ignored your reflection again as you pad into your room to dry off and search for a change of clothes.

A glorious plate of pasta sat on your nightstand, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Surely your parents were still far too angry to bring you dinner, and Georgia and Dixie didn’t care enough.

But food is food.

You took large bites of the creamy pasta while you got dressed. Just as you’d pulled a pair of shorts over your hips, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached for the device while shoving a forkful of carbs into your mouth

6:09 PM Unknown: we need a keg

A frown etched onto your lips. Where the hell were you meant to buy a keg? Could they not get one themselves?

to Unknown:

when and where?delivered 6:11 PM

Just as you’d placed your phone back down, it buzzed again.

6:11 PM Unknown: tonight. sometime before 8:30. boneyard.

You chewed your bottom lip in thought. Your soulmate pinched your thigh as if to say, ‘stop’, but you ignored him.

Logic told you to text Pope back and tell him you couldn’t. You’d just been busted for partying by your parents and they were the angriest you’d ever seen them. You were too scared to even picture their rage if they found out you’d snuck out to buy some Pogues a keg.

But the irrational part of your brain argued that there was no way your parents would find out, especially if you climbed out the window. They’d already eaten dinner, and after dinner was wine hour, and after wine hour they’d retire to their master bedroom. If they hadn’t talked to you yet, they weren’t planning on it until tomorrow.

Before you could change your mind, you typed a reply.

to Unknown:

okdelivered 6:14 PM

As soon as you hit send, you wished you could take it back. With a long sight of regret, you searched for your friends’ group message.

to topperisasimp✨

long story short i need 2 bring a keg to the boneyard whos in? delivered 6:15 PM

✰

“I can’t believe you didn’t know where to get a keg,” Topper grumbled, hauling his end of the large, metal container.

“Well I’ve never needed one!” you defended yourself, struggling to keep up with his pace and hold up your end of the keg.

He rolled his eyes, “Literally any liquor store. Common sense, dumbass.”

You frowned and released the keg, letting it drop onto his foot.

“Shit!”

He jumped up and down on his right leg, holding his left. A smug grin danced onto your face. A shriek sounded from Topper’s Range Rover and you cringed; you’d forgotten about Kate.

“Don’t insult a girl carrying a keg. Common sense, dumbass.”

Topper glared at you, still hopping around like an idiot. You ruffled his hair and continued towards his Range Rover, leaving him and the keg behind.

“Sorry, Kate! Come help your boyfriend,” you chirped as you swung the door of the backseat open, climbing inside the vehicle next to Millie.

Kate narrowed her eyes, holding her foot in the same manner as Topper. Nevertheless, she jumped out of the car and hopped over to her other half. You and Millie both gagged as she placed a sickeningly sweet kiss on Topper’s forehead and the pair hopped with the keg together.

“They make me nauseous,” you moaned, crossing your arms.

Millie laughed, “And you’re a hopeless unromantic. God, I can’t wait until you meet your soulmate. I bet you’re gonna be even more lovey-dovey than those two.”

You grunted and jokingly shoved your friend. Millie leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You laughed and wiped her spit off, rubbing it on her face.

“And you guys always harp on usabout PDA,” Topper grumbled at you and Millie while situating himself in the driver’s seat.

“Oh, my bad! You want a kiss too, don’t you, Top?” you teased the teenage boy.

He scowled at you through the rearview mirror, but he wasn’t quick enough to fight off your attack as you placed a kiss similar to Millie’s on the side of his face.

“I am going to fucking kill you one day, Montgomery,” the grumpy boy wiped the slimy spot from his cheek.

You, Millie, and Kate all chorused in laughter. Topper revved the engine of his grossly expensive car and pulled out of the parking lot of the sketchy liquor stop. Music blasted from the speakers, the bass vibrating the whole car in an obnoxious teen manner. You and Millie both rolled down your windows and stuck your heads out, letting your hair whip backward in the wind.

The pure bliss of summer air and being with your best friends was almost enough to make you forget about the events of the morning. Almost.

There was a nagging voice in the back of your brain and a tugging at your heart reminding you that you should’ve been wallowing in your own misery in your room. You should’ve been practicing the Chopin piece, and you should’ve been figuring out how you were going to fix things with your parents.

The last thing you should’ve been doing was anything involved with alcohol.

Yet here you were. Spending $100 on a keg for a trashy party.

Even over the sound of your friends’ laughter and Mac Miller, you couldn’t forget the chorusing words of your mother: ‘you’re an embarrassment’.

Millie yanked you from your thoughts and back inside the car.

“Topper,pleaselet me DJ! Y/N, back me up!” Millie cried, trying to snatch the aux chord from his phone.

“Oh my god, Millie, do you wanna crash?” Kate laughed, swatting her grabbing hands away.

You giggled at your friends, opting to suppress your impending troubles.

Before you knew it, you’d pulled into the parking lot near the Boneyard. You didn’t hesitate to jump out of Topper’s car and slam the door shut behind you; your three friends followed suit.

“So, we’re clear on the plan, right? Drop off the keg and leave. No partying, no trash talk, no fights,” you eyed Topper at the last part.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Well you’ve only reminded us 5 times, Mom.”

You raised your arm to swat him upside the head, but Kate stopped you midway.

“Don’t forget that what you do him you do to me too,” she shot you look and you sighed in disappointment.

“Bummer, right?” Millie quipped, eliciting a laugh from you.

The two of you made your way to the trunk of the Range Rover, popping it open to grab the keg. You braced yourselves for the weight of it before lifting it together.

“Got it?” Topper called while remotely closing the trunk and locking his car.

“Obviously. Have you seen these guns?”

You and Millie both mockingly flexed your biceps. Kate giggled, while Topper clicked his tongue in annoyance. The four of you began your trek into the sand and towards the central part of the beach. You could already hear the music from the parking lot, and it was only getting louder as you edged closer. Your jaw dropped once you caught sight of the party.

Keggers at the Boneyard were never known to be small. But you’d never seen one so packed. It wasn’t to the scale of Topper’s party last night, but it was a close second. Teenagers littered the beach, most of whom you assumed were Tourons.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

You hadn’t anticipated delivering a keg to an ongoing party, let alone one so big. You figured Pope and his friends were in desperate need of one, but based on the scene before you, they seemed pretty well-off.

“You’re seriously gonna give them a hundred-dollar keg? They don’t even need it!” Topper grouched.

You shrugged, “Pope helped me this morning. I’m just paying off my debt. Besides,” you added, “he’s actually pretty nice.”

Topper scoffed, “He sunk my boat.”

“You probably deserved it.”

Millie snickered and Kate had to squash the smile tugging at her lips.  

As you edged closer to the party, you kept your eyes peeled for Pope.

“Do you see him?” you raised your voice so your friends could hear you over the thundering bass of some Drake song.

Kate and Millie chorused back a ‘no’. You and Millie led the way through the crowded beach with the keg between you, weaving through sweaty bodies and spilled drinks.

“Y/N!”

You abruptly turned to your right, nearly dropping the keg on Millie. Pope stood a few yards away, waving his arms in the humid air to get your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure you hadn’t lost your other friends. Topper was still right behind you with a nasty scowl that made him look constipated, and Kate hummed obliviously beside him. Millie moved before you did, this time almost dropping the keg on your own foot.

“Come on!” she called over her shoulder and you quickened your pace to catch up.

Pope grinned as you approached, but his mouth fell into a tight-lipped smile once he caught sight of your friends. You weren’t sure what else he’d expected; you surely weren’t about to come to a kegger alone.

Pope’s gang also noticed you hadn’t come alone. They assembled behind him one-by-one as if anticipating some dramatic face-off.

First came Kiara Carrera who stood beside Pope with her arms crossed and a hard glare. You rolled your eyes at her protective stance, and you didn’t need to look at Millie and Kate to know they did the same.

John B lurked behind his friend, ready to intervene, with Sarah Cameron wrapped around his waist. The former Kook shot your group an uncomfortable smile which none of you returned.

You didn’t hate Sarah, no. If anything, you liked her—she used to be your only savior at Cameron-Montgomery gatherings. But since she’d discovered John B was her soulmate, you rarely saw her around. You also knew she and Topper had some bad blood, and you simply hung out with Topper more.

Finally, JJ Maybank joined, slinging his right arm around Pope’s shoulder; his left was occupied with a red solo cup filled with cheap beer. You felt Topper shaking with impending rage solely at the sight of him. As much as he hated all the Pogues, no one made his blood boil like JJ Maybank. JJ had also made quite the name for himself amongst the rest of the Kook community. The blond’s hard gaze landed on you, and you shivered. Goosebumps erupted along your arms, and your heartbeat quickened. You tried to ignore the odd sensation and frowned back at him, uncomfortable under his watchful eyes. You cleared your throat.

“Delivery,” you shot Pope an awkward smile, opting to ignore his friends.

“Doesn’t look like you need it, though,” Kate grumbled from behind you, just loud enough so the Pogues could hear.

Kiara narrowed her eyes further at your friend, but Kate only smirked in response.

“Wow, the Kooks serving the Pogues. I knew karma would bite you in the ass one day,” JJ Maybank quipped with a very smug grin.

Topper’s temper was slipping, “Just wait ‘till you’re mowing my lawn in the morning, Maybank. Then let’s talk about who’s serving who,” the boy gritted his teeth behind you. Kate held him back.

JJ’s smug smile transformed into a nasty sneer. Sensing a fight about to break out, you butted in, “Where do you want this?”

You and Millie raised the keg in question.

“We’ll just take it,” Pope replied shortly.

You and Millie held the large, metal container for them to take. JJ and Pope stepped forward to grab it.

It was a quick motion; no more than two seconds. But it felt like minutes.

You leaned over to hand the heavy object to JJ, who leaned forward as well. As the distance between you decreased, your heart pounded harder and harder. The goosebumps spread from your arms to your whole body. You shuddered at the prickling sensation of your hair standing on end. You gazed at your hand which was just centimeters from his and fought the urge to close the distance. Instead, you shifted your gaze up to his face. You were nose to nose, and the world seemed to slow. Your heart was beating so hard it hurt your chest. You held your breath, afraid of what might happen if you exhaled. 

JJ’s chapped lips parted, and he too seemed to be holding in oxygen. There was a crease between his brows, and the ends of his hair moved gently in the soft, summer breeze. A shadow of a bruise covered his right eye, and you suddenly remembered the force of the punch from yesterday. But most intriguing of all were his baby blues. An indistinguishable thought swam in them as they bore into you.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

Just as it happened, it ended.

You cleared your throat and rejoined your friends alongside Millie. The goosebumps subsided and your heart slowed, but you were left with a gross, twisting sensation in your stomach. You felt the blond Pogue’s gaze on you, but you fought the urge to stare back.

“Well, enjoy,” you spoke tartly, effectively ending the interaction. You spun on your heels and all but ran from the scene. You’d only made it a few yards before you were stopped.

“Y/N, wait!” Topper snatched your wrist and turned you around.

“What? I need to get back home,” you sighed, leg shaking anxiously.

“Without Kate and Millie?”

You stupidly stared behind him where your other two friends should’ve stood. A groan left your lips and you threw your head back in frustration. Topper latched onto your wrist again, ignoring your mini-tantrum, and dragged you through the crowd.

You slapped at his grabbing hands, “I know how to walk, dickhead.”

You caught sight of your two friends filling two cups with beer from the keg you’d just bought. It was your turn to yank Topper in the opposite direction. The two of you wore matching frowns of annoyance as you marched towards the giggling girls.

“There you guys are!” Millie chirped, waving her cup in the air. Liquid sloshed over the edge, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Here we are and here we go. Come on,” you griped, letting go of Topper and opting to pull Millie forward instead.

“Noo!” she protested, tugging you back, “Let’s stay for a little bit! You just bought a keg, don’t you wanna get some use out of it?”

“No,” you snapped, “Topper, back me up here!”

You turned to face your other friend, but he was wrapped up with his girlfriend. You huffed and kicked the sand in frustration.

“Who shit in your cereal this morning?” Millie laughed, “Was it Maybank? Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at him.”

Your face reddened with annoyance, “I was staring at the booger hanging out of his nose.”

Millie ignored your snark and shoved a plastic cup filled to the brim with alcohol into your hands, “Come on, Y/N. Let loose a little bit. Have a drink.”

You curled your lip at the yellowish-brown liquid. The rational part of your brain told you to give it back. You’d just gotten shit-faced last night, and you needed to be sober when you returned home. You weren’t even the mood to get drunk, and you certainly weren’t in the mood to risk running into JJ.

But when did you ever listen to the voice of reason? I was just one drink, after all.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you raised the cup to your lips and let the bitter liquid travel down your throat. Millie cheered and clinked her cup against yours before taking a large gulp.

You scrunched your nose up at the taste, “I fucking hate beer.”

Millie giggled and linked your arms together, “Let’s go find some cute boys!”

You sighed and took another large gulp of the alcohol. Just go along with it, you told yourself. The more you convince her you’re having fun, the quicker you’ll get out of here.

The two of you garnered some attention from residents of the Cut, but you ignored their watchful eyes.

“What about them?” Millie nodded her head towards two boys sitting on a log.

They were both dark-haired and attractive enough. One wore an ‘OBX’ sweatshirt, signaling they weren’t from the island.

You shrugged and hummed, “Why not?”

Millie led you towards the teenagers and you forced on a façade of interest as you sat on either side of them. The brunet to your left turned to face you with a cheeky grin, “Well please join us, why don’t you?”

You threw him a plastic smile and teased, “I mean if you want I can just go sit over there. Just say the word.”

“Send a pretty girl like you away? No chance,” he leaned in enough so you could smell the beer on his breath and his Axe cologne.

“Y/N,” you shot him a sly smile and held out your hand.

Rather than shaking it, he raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You wanted to gag at his unapologetic flirting but held your smile instead.

“Chris,” he gave you his name but it flew in through one ear and out the other.

You immersed yourself in conversation with the Touron, hoping it would make the time pass quicker. You noticed Millie seemed to be getting along with her boy quite well.

“So, you from around here?” Chris asked while taking a sip of his beer.

You lowered your cup from your lips. You were already feeling buzzed two drinks in and didn’t want a repeat of last night.

“Yeah, I grew up on the other side of town.”

You weren’t sure what he said next. And quite frankly, you didn’t care.

The familiar hair-raising feeling from earlier had returned. Your body shuddered, and you felt someone’s gaze on you. Too scared to turn away from Chris and see who it was, you tried to fall back into conversation with the Touron. But the incessant churning of your gut and clenching of your heart made it nearly impossible.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, you felt a feather-like touch trace small circles on your thigh. You stiffened. Your heart leapt into your throat, and your lips fell open. You felt like you were about to puke all over again.

The touch traced:

L-O-O-K   U-P

Your eyes flicked upwards and away from the boy next to you.

JJ Maybank leaned against a tree with his calloused fingers tracing delicate patterns against his thigh. He reached up and rubbed a thumb over his chapped lips, tugging the bottom one.

In that moment, everything stopped.

You stopped.

Thinking,

Breathing,

Feeling.

Your body moved on its own accord. There was no Touron waiting behind you. No party raging around you. No alcohol, no Kate and Topper. Just you.

And Him.

“Montgomery.”

His voice was scratchy but so wonderful. His tongue rubbed against his lips, and the feeling almost made you collapse right there.

“Maybank.”

Your lips moved with a mind of their own.

“That was abitchof a morning. Can’t handle your alcohol?”

Your knees wobbled. Your brain caught up with your body, but you barely spoke above a whisper.

“That was a bitch of a punch yesterday. Can’t deal ‘em out?”

With newfound confidence, you traced your thumb around your right eye where black-and-blue painted his skin. You pressed a little harder, watching in awe as he winced.

He crept forward so you stood chest to chest. You were so close; the breeze no longer blew between you. But you desperately wanted to close the gap. You needed to touch him.

You needed to feel.

He lowered his head so his lips hovered mere millimeters away from your ear before whispering,

“Baby, you don’t even know half of it.”

Your body fucking ached. You so badly wanted to turn your head so your lips would meet his.

Instead, you gathered your last bit of strength and spun around so your back faced his front. But you didn’t leave. Your feet were stuck in the sand. You were sinking, and there was no chance you’d surface.

“You know, I don’t do this soulmate thing,” you breathed.

You flinched as his hands hovered over your waist.

“Good.”

His murmur nearly sent you.

“It’s stupid when you think about it.”

Your composure was cracking.

“Uh-huh.”

He was playing a dangerous game.

“So I’m not even gonna entertain the thought.”

And you were his pawn.

“Obviously.”

Soft lips grazed against your shoulder, and serotonin instantly flooded your veins.

Your composure broke.

Your head lulled back and you surrendered yourself to the bond you’d spent years suppressing. You breathed out a cry of bliss as his lips pressed harder against your skin.

No thinking.

No breathing.

Just feeling.

Your arms snaked around his neck behind you. A new wave of delicious heat invaded your bloodstream and he groaned into your neck. Rough hands gripped the bare skin of your waist. Your body fell limp against his, and he eagerly caught you.

You were completely entangled in each other. Youwerecomplete.

“Get your hands off her, you dirty fucking Pogue!”

A strangled cry escaped your longing lips. An invisible force sent you stumbling backward. Your eyes fluttered open as your high came crashing down.

Topper bunched up the collar of JJ’s shirt with one hand and reeled back the other to punch him. You grimaced, awaiting the impact, but it never came.

John B arrived at the scene and shoved Topper, sending both him and Kate tumbling to the ground.

Arms wrapped around your shoulders, trying to tug you away.

You desperately fought them off, shaking your head incessantly, “No, let me go!”

“Y/N, you and I both know it’s in your best interest to get out of here. Now.”

Millie’s soft but stern voice pulled you back to reality.

This time, you didn’t resist her tugging. You stumbled alongside her, but not before craning your head over your shoulder to have one last look.

Ocean eyes bore into yours. Before you could give in, Millie dragged you away.

But, goddamnit, you wanted to give in.

-

taglist:

@obxlife@ilovedogs1989@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6@justsomegirlontheinternet@iamaunicorn4704@lopineapples@http-cherries@k-k0129@oopsiedoopsie23@ponyboys-sunsets@obxmxybxnk@coloradogirl07@thelonelyumbrella​@danicarosaline@ethereallust@kahnacademyforfun​@bxmaaa​@deathcompass​ @planetsarenice-love @duskangxl​

-

so i made topper likeable and i’m not bad ab it lol

fangs | john b routledge

more of this little sporadic series. i would do the second verse of the song but i specifically wrote this for the first verse lmao 

damn look at this debbie ryan lookin ass 

masterlist

warnings: cussing as per usual, uuuuh bad writing, underaged drug use 

♫ Fangs by Matt Champion ♫

She rolled up in the Beamer, couldn’t have looked cleaner
Skin like coffee, colour with lil’ creamer
Sin City since I been thinkin’ all of these thoughts in my head
She’d probably shoot me dead

“It’s like…spiritual, y’know?” you mumbled and John B wasn’t really sure what you were talking about but he nodded nonetheless. He couldn’t help it when it came to you. If someone ever asked him for a list of his favorite things to do he would add “Listening to (Y/N) talk” on the list. (To be honest one day maybe he would just put “(Y/N)” on that favorite things to do list but John B was on that respect women juice of course). 

“Sarah was talking to me about it once-You know Sarah Cameron?-” John B nodded and you continued, “She’s like really into stars, so she was telling me all these stories about the stars and I thought it was just beautiful y’know. That there’s mythology of people turning or being turned into the stars themselves.” 

“Yeah of course” John B mumbled in response. 

“But it’s cus…we’re like…also the stars y’know?” you grinned at John B and he had to remind himself to breathe again. 

“Because we’re made of stardust,” you mumbled dreamily and John B nodded in a daze. 

John B wondered for a moment how the two of you ended up here. He wasn’t exactly complaining but he couldn’t remember the last time he hung out with you by himself. 

Wait. Were the two of you even alone?

John B glanced over to the side and suddenly remembered the presence of the other Pogues. Now he could remember where he was and how he’d even gotten here. Earlier in the day the Pogues had found themselves stumbling into The Wreck to try and get some lunch before they headed out to the marsh on the HMS Pogue. While they sat goofing around by the outer patio of the restaurant, John B had caught you driving up to the restaurant in your dad’s old Beamer. It was a well maintained car and he couldn’t stop himself from gaping as you parked and stepped out of the car with your best friend. 

God-damn, she got the hoops on
Hair bunned up in two just like a nunchuck
Would I give a fuck? I needed to cheer myself up

You were dressed in sandals, a pair of loose, patterned, fabric pants, with a tube top and your hair was pulled up into space buns and you had on hoop earrings that he thought looked incredible on you. 

John B had jolted when he felt someone smack him upside the head. 

“Dude what?” he hissed at JJ and the blonde only laughed at him.

“You’re drooling John B,” Pope told him, pointing to the corner of his mouth and the Pogues laughed as John B reached up to wipe away nonexistent drool. 

“Hah hah real funny,” John B flicked a fry at Pope but he only swatted it away. Kie shot them a look as she leaned over to pick it up off the floor and then placed it onto an unused napkin. 

“Dude, I could hear the loves songs going off in your head John B,” JJ leaned back in his seat smugly. 

“Just a glimpse of (Y/N) and his half a brain cell disappears,” Kie stated and the group laughed at John B’s expense. John B rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at his lips or the redness from spreading across his cheeks. 

“Speaking of,” JJ straightened up from his seat and smiled as he held an arm up to wave, “Hey (Y/N)! Nicky!” 

John B jabbed JJ in the arm as Kie and Pope turned over to look at the counter of the restaurant, where you and your best friend, Nicky, were ordering from Kie’s mom.

The two of you looked up at that and though Kie’s mom raised a brow, you only grinned as you waved to JJ, who was wincing in pain. Nicky shot their group a look but waved back reluctantly when Pope and Kie waved to the two of you. 

“Stop JJ,” John B hissed but JJ only scoffed. 

“Hey you guys,” you greeted as you lead Nicky over to them. 

“Oh shit, heeey,” John B drawled awkwardly and Pope recoiled in shock, trying to keep the laugh from bursting out. Kie gave him grimace and JJ looked up to the ceiling, his lips pursed in an attempt to keep his laughter in. 

“What the fuck…” Nicky whispered from beside you and you nudged her side as John B cleared his throat. 

“Ok..sorry about whatever that was,” Kie shot John B a look and he only smiled back at her sarcastically, “But hey,” she smiled. 

“Good day so far?” you asked and the Pogues all nodded in confirmation, “Yeah I saw ya’ll surfing this morning. Looked like fun.” 

“Were you on the beach?” Pope asked and Nicky nodded. 

“Yeah we went and had a sunrise picnic, we like painted and stuff.” 

“That sounds really chill,” John B stated and he grinned as you smiled at him. 

“Yeah, we might just do the sunset tonight too,” you said and JJ perked up. 

“Hey we were about to head out to the marsh, the sunset’ll probably be…fire from the Pogue,” JJ suggested and his friends all looked at him in surprise. 

“Oh? Um well,” you looked to Nicky and she gave shrugged at you. She’d never talked much with John B or his group of friends and had only ever interacted with them while you were around. You didn’t wanna put her in an uncomfortable or unfamiliar situation, “If it’s ok with you?” 

“It’s cool,” Nicky stated and you turned to her. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah I mean…it’s whatever,” Nicky turned to the Pogues, “Ya’ll are cool right?” she asked bluntly and the group was struck for a moment before they nodded.

“Yeah we don’t mind,” Kie stated. 

“We’re cool…super cool…” Pope trailed off and there was a moment of awkward silence before Nicky nodded to you and you smiled. 

“Ok, we’ll just wait for our food and then we can head out whenever you guys want?” you asked and John B and his friends all nodded in agreement, allowing you and Nicky to pull up chairs and sit around their table. 

But I fell in love right when she said
“I wanna count the freckles on your face”
“Rearrange ‘em, put 'em in the same place”

That’s how John B found himself on his porch with you, Nicky, and his friends. The second you all were on dry land, JJ had pulled out a pre-rolled joint that he had been waiting all day to smoke. 

John B was surprised when you’d taken it once he offered it to you after taking a hit. 

“I didn’t know you smoked,” John B mumbled, watching you take a hit, letting it sit for a moment before breathing out the smoke. You let out a small cough before handing it off to Nicky, who took it eagerly. 

“I’ve only smoked like two other times,” you answered softly.

“Glad to be here for your third,” John B smiled and he flushed as you chuckled and smiled back at him. 

Then as time passed alongside the joint, Pope (the only one sober for the night) was stuck listening to JJ as the blonde rambled about boats, Kie and Nicky were picking at the Ukelele, playing around with chords and oohing and giggling as they pieced together a song, and John B found himself listening to you gush about the stars. 

“I never noticed that you had freckles,” you mumbled, leaning into him and John B gulped as he watched you, “I kinda..wanna like…rearrange them,” you giggled as you looked up into his eyes and John B smiled. He could feel himself falling even harder for you. 

“Where would they go?” he questioned. 

“I….I dunno,” you mumbled and a slow smile spread onto your face before the two of you were chuckling in unison. 

“I get them from being out in the sun so much,” John B explained and you nodded, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. 

“That makes sense.” 

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence for a moment, letting the others’ chatter drift into your ears. John B watched as you looked up past the roof of the porch and at the stars once more. 

I’m obsessed, I’m obsessed
I’m obsessed

“Um hey-” 

*ring*

You and John B jolted in surprise at the sudden sound of your phone ringing and you fumbled to pull your phone out of the small cross over bag you’d been carrying all day. Swiping your finger across the screen you cleared your throat before bringing the phone up to your ear. 

“Hello? Mom?” 

The other teens quieted down and straightened up as they recognized that you were on the phone with your mother, the sheriff. 

“Um yeah I’m fine,” you paused as your mother spoke, “Yep. I’m-I’m just at John B’s house-Yes, Routledge- Yes….Yeah…Yeah, I’m with Nicky…I don’t…Um is it ok if I sleep over at Nicky’s” you glanced at Nicky and the girl gave you a thumbs up and you shot one back,”Yeah?…Ok…Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then….Bye, I love you too.” 

You sighed as you hung up the phone, dragging a hand down your phase. You shook your head to try and clear away the fogginess of your brain but it only made you feel dizzy. 

“Ooooh shit…” you mumbled in irritation as you opened your eyes and looked at the group that was watching you. A beat passed before all of you burst out into a bout of laughter. 

“I don’t know why but my heart like, dropped,” Kie gasped and Pope pointed to her as he nodded. 

“The second you said ‘mom’,“ JJ breathed and you chuckled, leaning into John B without even realizing it. He moved on instinct, wrapping an arm around you and placing a hand on your hip. 

“Yeah, in my head I was like, “Oh shit she knows we smoked”,” John B said and the group laughed once more as they agreed. 

“Sometimes I feel like she knows exactly what I’m doing like…all the time,” you told the group, “It’s literally terrifying.”

“Yeah your mom’s scary as shit,” JJ said before he backtracked, “No offense.”

“None taken,” you assured, shaking your head. You loved your mom but you could agree that she could be scary. 

“You guys need a ride home?” Pope questioned as the laughter died down and you turned to Nicky. She closed her eyes and nodded slowly, indicating that she was definitely not fit to drive. And the odd weight of your head was telling you that you weren’t fit to drive either. 

“If that’s ok?” you told Pope and he nodded, already standing from his seat. 

“Yeah of course.”

“What about your dad’s car?” Kie asked and you all turned to look at the Beamer parked beside the Twinkie. 

“I can drive it up to Nicky’s house tomorrow morning?” John B told you and you turned to look up at him. 

“Oh thank you, yeah that’d be great,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. His hand played with the end of your shirt and as though suddenly realizing where it was, he coughed awkwardly and pulled his arm away from you. Glancing at JJ he frowned at the blonde’s furrowed brows and missed the way you leaned away from him, glancing down at the floor in disappointment before you stood from where you were seated. 

John B stood after you and awkwardly placed his hands in his pockets as he watched you adjust the waist of your pants. 

“John B, can I get the keys to the Twinkie?” Pope asked and John B pulled the keys out of his pocket, tossing it to Pope just as you slung your bag across your body. Nicky walked up to you and looped her arm around yours. She mumbled something into your ear and John B caught the glance shot his way before he averted his eyes and stared up at the porch ceiling awkwardly. 

“Alright let’s go?” Pope asked and you and Nicky nodded. 

“Bye,” Nicky waved to the remaining trio and you smiled and waved to them before the two of you turned and followed after Pope. 

Kie, JJ, and John b stood and watched as you entered the van. Then as it peeled away from John B’s dirt drive away, the boy flinched in shock as Kie punched him in the arm. 

John B reached up to rub at the spot, shooting Kie a glare. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed and Kie only raised her brows at him. 

“What was that?” Kie questioned and John B only looked at her in confusion. 

“What?” 

“C’mon John B,” JJ spoke up. 

“Wh-what?” John B floundered as he looked between the two and they only shook their heads, clearly done with his shit. 

Put yo hands up if ya ever been in love
I know I hate it, I hate it as much as you, oh, oh
Baby put your hands up if ya ever, if ya ever
If ya ever been in love

JJ makes you a gift card that he actually put effect into, Sarah takes you shopping, Pope takes you out for lunch, Kiara and you talk on the playground swings for hours, and John B takes you to see a movie as mother day gifts since you’re the mom friend in the group.

who do you see more as harry osborn : rudy pankow or drew starkey?

am i the only who has this fear that sarah is gonna dip on john b? because they talked so much about her bad commitment skills and how she always bails when she gets too close to someone. who knows, maybe john b changed her but