~𝒪𝓊𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈~
I never knew it could feel so good to be somebody's Star
John b x OC
Cover made by @disney_fanatic36
Season 1- ✅
Season 2- ✅
Season 3- ✅
Season 4- ✅
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John B tightens the rope, securing the boat with quick, practiced moves. He hops down and jogs back toward me, hands already reaching.
"Okay ready?"
"Yeah." I nod, bracing myself.
"One two..." He lifts me carefully, but pain flares hot across my stomach and I wince, the sound catching sharp in my throat.
"Hey listen." He murmurs, steadying me, his hand warm against my side. "We're gonna get some gas find a phone and get out of here all right?"
"How are we gonna pay for the gas?"
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out."
We start walking down the dock. I spot a couple eating a sandwich — layers of meat, cheese, all the things I've fantasized about since what feels like forever now, my stomach twisting with something closer to longing than hunger.
I never thought I'd be jealous of someone eating a sandwich, but here I am.
"That looks so good," John B mutters. "I'm starving," he adds, and I nod fast, my mouth already watering.
"We gotta get some food. Follow my lead."
"Okay."
John B "accidentally" bumps the waiter as we pass, sending drinks flying onto a man in a suit.
"You idiot!" the man barks.
"I'm so sorry," the waiter stammers.
"Oh my God." I gasp, looking at the woman. "Your shoes!"
"This is a $1,700 jacket!" The man strips it off like it personally offended him.
"I am so sorry," I say, forcing wide eyes while I lean down, my heart already racing with the thrill of what's coming.
"A hundred percent on me. I'm sorry. I bumped into him."
"Is there anything I can do?" I ask the woman, my hand neatly grasping the money clip on the table, then it disappears into my pocket, smooth and quick, my pulse quickening with the sleight of it.
"So you're saying you're gonna pay for it?" the guy demands.
"I don't have any money. I'm broke," John B admits.
"Of course you don't." The guy sneers.
"Sir—" the waiter starts.
"Pathetic!" the guy yells.
"Let me talk to a manager, okay?"
"I'm sorry."
"No need for name-calling sir," I mutter, and we walk off, the effort of keeping my face neutral almost harder than the sprint we'd done to get here.
---
"Did you get it?" John B whispers, the second we're clear.
