~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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The loft boat hits the water with a hollow slap, the ropes whining as I lower it. My hands are shaking, but I pretend they aren't. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me standing. The only thing keeping my brain from shutting down.
I grab the ladder, tossing it over. But a shadow steps into my path.
Dad.
"No! No! You get the hell away from me! I'm not doing this shit anymore! I'm not going anywhere with you!" I snap instantly, the words ripping out of me.
He just....looks at me. Too clam. Too quiet. The way he gets right before something happens.
"I know. I get it. I mean it took while cause I didn't wanna believe but... I finally understand what everybody was trying to tell me." he says
He steps closer. My chest tightens.
"You're not one of us. Right?" He asks.
My throat tightens, unable to speak. But I nod my head.
He nods back. "Not anymore. And you never will be. You're one of them." He said
It felt like a slap. The way he spits them. Like loving people is the crime.
"But now the problem is this... what do I do now?" He continues softly.
He eyes settle on me, calculating.
"You let me go." I whisper
He laughs under his breath. Cold. "Let you go? Let you go back and tell everybody that I'm alive and tell them where we are and tell them what we've done?" Dad says
He moves in closer, and suddenly he's cupping my face in his hands.
"Baby come on now. You know I can't do that." He says
His thumb presses into my skin- gentle but threatening. My stomach drops.
"Dad.....You're scaring me. Don't. No." My voice cracks.
"I don't know what to do with you!" Dad explodes, voice shaking the metal around us.
I stumble back, heart in my throat.
"What do I do Stella?" He demands.
"No. No. No. No. No." I shake my head hard, because I know what's coming. I know that look. I've seen it before.
But never on him.
His hands snap from my cheeks to my throat. And then I can't breathe.
His fingers clamp down, cutting off everything- Air, sound, thought. My hands claw at his wrists, nails scraping skin.
"What do I do? What do I do?" He keeps saying, voice cracking like he's crying- But his grip tightens and my vision spots.
