~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- ✅
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Pope starts driving back to the cross. We all tried to drive, but he threatened every single one of us if we didn't let him.
"Uh— Pope, you're driving really fast," I said, my knuckles already white against the seat.
Pope just howls. Like an actual wolf. Into the wind.
"Pope— last to judge— but I think you should slow down a little," JJ says, clutching the door.
"That would definitely delay our arrival to the cross. We gotta get there," Pope says, laser focused on the road like he owns it, something manic still burning off the last of the epinephrine in his eyes.
"Why did we let him drive again?" Kie asks, looking at us like we trapped her in a nightmare.
"Because I said I'd rip your ears off." He adds, "I was joking about that by the way."
"That's a really funny joke," Kie scoffs.
"Hey how ya feeling buddy? How ya doing?" John B asks him carefully.
"Uh— fantastic. I don't know what JJ's cousin gave me but I am moving."
"We couldn't tell," Kie mutters.
"Okay well um you're going really fast right now."
"Yeah really fast!" Pope says, turning to look at John B instead of the road, and my stomach lurches with the sudden loss of anyone actually watching where we're going.
We all scream when the car swerves over the line.
"Whoa whoa!" JJ yells.
Then Pope goes to overtake a car. Another car was coming straight at us.
"You don't need to pass. You don't need to pass," Kie says, her voice climbing higher with every word.
We scream again as Pope barely missed the oncoming car, my whole body flooding with adrenaline so fast my ears ring.
"What an asshole right?" Pope scoffs.
"Pope he's going the speed limit."
"We're not gonna get to the cross if we're dead Pope," John B warns.
"We're not gonna die. It's our divine right to get that cross."
"Pope! Look at the road!" John B yells— right as Pope clips the back of a truck.
We spin. Hard. Metal grinding, tires screeching, the whole world a blur until we slam into a tree, the impact jarring straight through my bones.
Everything is silent for a beat. Just our breathing, fast and shaky in the sudden stillness.
"Is everyone okay?"
"Oh— ow. Uhh— yeah, I think so," I say, rubbing my head, relief and pain tangling together at once.
