Lazy Day- Topper Thorton

Request:Hiii, could i request a topper x reader with prompt 30 and 51? Thanks babes :)

Summary: You and Topper decide to spend some more time together after a lazy day. 

Word count: 1,895

Warnings: SMUT! oral sex (male and female), thigh riding, tiny choking kink, un protected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas!)

Topper Thornton held you close in his arms as the sunlight entered through your curtains, blinding his sight. It was only 3 in the afternoon but you two decided to stay in and cuddle with each other. He groaned in pain as you woke up to his noises. As soon as you opened your eyes, you yelped in pain as the brightness took over your vision. 

“Here.” Topper clamped his hand over your eyes, shielding the light. “Is this okay?” He asked as he held his hand in place. “It would’ve been okay if you didn’t poke me in the eye.” You laughed as you removed his hand to rub your eye.

You sat up in the bed and stretched, your bones emitting a loud popping sound. Topper went into the bathroom as you changed into normal clothes. Instead of finding a normal pair of shorts, you grabbed a clean pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and lazily threw them on. You slid on a large plain grey t-shirt that fell loose around your thighs.

Walking to the kitchen, you began grabbing bowls to eat cereal. Standing on your tip-toes, you reached your arm up high in an attempt to grab hold of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Is that my underwear?” Topper spoke from behind you, pressing against you to reach up for the box of cereal.

He helped you get it down, but still stood behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Today was such an easy day but I feel like I’ve been awake since 2 a.m.” you mumbled, your body shivering as Topper pressed delicate kisses to the side of your neck. His hands lifted up under your shirt, his fingertips skimming your skin. 

 He nipped at your neck, “You know I never got to tell you this, but you look hot in my boxers and shirt.” Topper smirked at you. “Alright Thorton, keep it in your pants.” Laughing you stepped away from him and headed into the bathroom leaving him missing your touch. 

You did what you had to do and stood in front of the mirror. Your fingers ran through your hair to smooth down any fly aways. You and Topper had been dating for exactly 1 year.  But no matter how long you two were together, you would do little things to try to fix your appearance. Whether it was to fix your hair or maybe even applying mascara, you wanted to look good mostly for yourself. Topper was always by your side hyping you up. He would always tap your hands when he saw you fixing something, always telling you that you look perfect in every way.

You walked out of the bathroom and back into the living room. The two resumed their cuddles, Topper spooning your body. Everything was quiet, the only sound heard was the audio coming from the TV. You sighed in content as you slowly shut your eyes. “I feel like I should be tired, but I also feel like I could run a marathon. Okay that’s a lie I can’t run for shit but you get the idea.” Topper mumbled in your ear as he held you closer to him.

“You know, if you can’t sleep we could have sex.” You joked to the boy, who actually took it seriously. As soon as those words left your mouth he released you and began to pull his pants down. He flung the article of clothing across the floor, pulling you into his lap. His hands found their place on your ass, gently rubbing your skin. 

“You know I was joking, right?” You grinned as he started to guide you to grind on his clothes cock. You threw your head back only for Topper to grab the bottom of your chin to kiss you. Your lips danced together, practically molding the moment they touched. The kiss got heated quickly as his tongue slid across your bottom lip before trying to fight for dominance with yours. 

The pupils in his blue eyes grew as he watched you grind against him, his eyes staying locked on your facial expressions. His hands slid up from your ass to the hem of your shirt. He wasted no time in nearly ripping it off of your body. He froze in his spot as his eyes scanned over the navy blue lace bra you were wearing. “Wanna take this upstairs?” He asked, licking his lips in anticipation.

You exhaled while nodding your head. He jumped to his feet, wrapping his arms around you as you linked your legs around his waist. He easily carried you up into his bedroom, carefully placing you down onto your feet. He sat up against the headboard, patting his thigh signaling you to come over to him. 

You straddled his thigh, feeling him lightly tense under your touch. Wrapping your arms around his neck, his hand found the small of your back, tracing small circles on your skin. You slowly began to rock your hips back and forth against his thigh, “there we go, princess. You like getting off on my thigh?” He smugly asked, his hands finding your ass once again.

You nodded your head, not being able to trust your voice. You knew if you spoke, a moan would slip out. Topper knew this was a weakness you had so he wanted to use it to his advantage. “Use your words, princess.” You bit your lip harshly, “I love it.” You let out a quiet moan, feeling the fabric of his boxers rub your clit. 

“Don’t stop baby, you’re almost there."he mumbled, his hands reaching up and undoing your bra. He immediately cupped your breasts, his mouth finding your left nipple. You couldn’t hold back your moan as his tongue swirled around your nipple. You spend up the rate of your grinding, your hands entangling themselves in his hair. In a swift motion, Topper was hovering over you. "If you’re gonna cum, it’s either gonna be on my tongue, my fingers, or my cock.”

He peppered kisses on your stomach, teasingly pulling his boxers off of you. He gently blew on your core, watching you squirm under the feeling. His tongue laid flat on your folds before diving in quickly. His hands quickly pinned your thighs down knowing you would wanna shut your legs.

Your eyes fluttered shut, “Topper.” You moaned, grinding your core against his tongue. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending a new sensation up your spine. He pulled away from you, his thumb collecting your juices. He leaned forward towards your face, “taste yourself.” You held onto his wrist as your lips wrapped around his digit. His mouth fell open as he watched you swirl your tongue around it. “Good girl.” He praised.

You tugged on his boxers, signaling you wanted them off. He quickly slid them off, sitting back in his position against the headrest. You positioned yourself between his legs watching as his cock sprang up, a shade of red with precum leaking from the tip.

Wrapped your hand around the base, he thrusted into your touch. “Hey, hey, easy tiger.” You giggled as your thumb swirled on his tip. You smeared the precum around, dragging it down the base. You watched entertained as Topper nearly crumbled underneath your touch. 

“Princess, you should put that pretty little mouth to another use instead of talking.” Topper panted, one of his hands collecting your hair in a fist. Obeying his subtle words, you took him into your mouth. “Oh shit Y/N, your tongue feels so good.” He groaned.

You flattened your tongue on his shaft, bobbing your head up and down. Your hand pumped the area where your mouth couldn’t reach. You moaned against him as you heard him mutter a string of curse words. Topper bunched your hair in his hand, trying to resist the urge of pushing your head down onto him. 

“If you keep going I’m gonna cum.” Your eyes watered as you forced your head all the way down, your nose touching his pelvis. He let out an almost pornographic moan as you repeated the action over and over. He lifted your head up, watching as strings of saliva reached from your mouth to his cock. Giving his tip one last lick, he leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“I know what I said before, but I want you to cum on my dick before anything else.” Topper ordered, pulling you into a passionate kiss. He tasted himself on your lips, which for some reason turned him on even more. He positioned you onto your back, his tip teasing your folds as he rubbed himself against you. “Jesus, Top can you just-” he silenced you as he harshly slammed himself into your entrance without warning. You let out a loud moan as you bit your lip, your mouth falling open at the impact. 

“Fuck Topper!” You cried out, watching his facial expressions as he hovered over you. Your nails raked down Topper’s back, no doubt leaving bright red scratch marks. Topper pulled all the way out before slamming himself back into you, the sounds of your skins slapping together being the only sound in the room. To Topper, the sound of their actions and your moans were music to his. Hearing you praise him, telling him his cock feels so good made him feel like he was on top of the world when really he was just on top of you. 

“You’re so fucking tight. You feel so good.” He groaned, his head dipping down to kiss your lips. Your mouth fell open in bliss allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. “You’re all mine Y/N. No one can fuck you like I can.” He grunted in your ear. Your legs started to shake as your eyes fluttered shut. Not only was the physical touch a turn on for you, but hearing Topper be dominant made your core ache. 

His one free hand latched onto your throat, giving it a squeeze before he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “That’s my good girl. Taking my cock like a champion, feeling every single inch of me.” His hands roamed your body, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you became a moaning mess. One of his hands intertwined your fingers as he pinned one of your hands above your head. 

“I’m almost there baby.” You said. Topper’s thrusts became quick and sloppy. “Cum in me.” Topper moaned into your ear as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling you closer to him. “Together?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours. “Together.” You arched your back as you released yourself around him. You felt Topper’s member stop moving as he released himself in you. Topper hissed loudly as you clenched around him, drawing the sinful pleasure to an end. 

He slowly pulled himself out of you, watching his cum drop from your core. A shiver was sent through your body from the loss of touch. Topper fell to your side, bringing you into his arms. You rested your forehead against his chest as the two of you caught your breaths. “I love you, Y/N.” You peppered soft kisses to his neck, “I love you too, Top.”

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​

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