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bi-bi-buckleydiaz · 3 years

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deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.”

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there.

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute.

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl.

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor.

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers.

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc.

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five.

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you.

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up.

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today.

Just incredibly confused and upset.

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead.

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window.

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting.

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers.

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table.

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods.

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers.

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him.

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not.

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy.

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face.

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch.

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word.

Girlfriend.

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off.

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier.

Girlfriend.

Kissing.

Girlfriend.

Flushed face.

Girlfriend.

Kissing.

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving.

Girlfriend.

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door.

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight.

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed.

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet.

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you.

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now.

Girlfriend.

Shirtless.

Girlfriend.

Kissing.

Girlfriend.

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind.

Owen isn’t yours.

Owen will never be yours.

You’re just a friend.

You’re just his PA.

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming.

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face.

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words.

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant.

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away.

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good.

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.”

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours.

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close.

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.”

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.”

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod.

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication.

“Always babes.”

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up.

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute.

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you.

What is that about?

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving.

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk.

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth.

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair.

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat.

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault.

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table.

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation.

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?”

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning?

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room.

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no.

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume.

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen.

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning.

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay.

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago.

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me.

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths.

Be a friend.

You’re a big girl.

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley.

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps.

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you.

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course.

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle.

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes.

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror.

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin.

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.”

I need Y/N to stay.

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does.

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red.

“Um, hey.” You chuckle.

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt.

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back.

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -”

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you?

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths.

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh.

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So.

Close.

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.

“Ash I -”

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath.

Deep breath.

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit.

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.”

“No, I have a lot to say -”

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more.

Deep breath.

Do your job.

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused.

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth.

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you.

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.”

Deep breath.

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out.

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.”

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes.

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then,

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you.

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest.

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder.

My trailer plz.

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless.

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off?

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit.

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch.

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick.

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet.

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close.

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss.

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air.

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat.

He likes you.

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you.

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again.

And again.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen joyner fluff #owen joyner angst #owen patrick joyner imagine #owen patrick joyner x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie #madison reyes #jeremy shada

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rustdream · 4 years

Text

Mustache Kid makes a New Friend hee hoo

Yea! A smol story for @promisedangel‘s roleswap AU! I wrote this at night so some things may be grammatically incorrect. I hope this is good!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The air was full of tension as Mustache Kid stood infront of the ice walls that surrounded her destination. By some sort of miracle, they were perfectly intact, despite the immense heat the forest gave off daily. While it’s a neat discovery all on its own, it would mean that she would have to bust her way in. She was taken out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle behind her. The voice belonged to none other than the Matriarch, the ruler of Subcon and the pain in the butt that’s been threatening her into doing favors for her. “It’s quite the feat, isn’t it?” The shadowy being asked, floating besides the girl.

Mustache Kid sighed in annoyance, causing the ghost’s angelic features to distort. “Now don’t take that ton with me, child. This will be different than the other favors you’ve done!” The passive aggressive tone had set in, as she feigned cheerfulness. The Matriarch clasped her hands together, “You’ll be delivering a gift to my special Prince for his birthday!” Mustache Kid turned to her as the gift box was born from red flames, the embers forming the luxurious bow. As much as she hated to admit it that box had a pretty darn cool shade of red. “Okay…but why don’t you do it? Since it’s your gift.” Mustache Kid questioned, as the Matriarch’s expression softened. “Oh, how I wish I could give him the gift myself! Unfortunately, my temper had gotten the better of me and…we got into a fight. Now the poor thing’s scared of me.” It was clear that queen of Subcon was being exaggeratingly dramatic right then, as she had no qualms about threatening children with execution twice fold. Still, the kid didn’t have much choice, as the box was shoved into her hands. Mustache Kid had a couple of moments before she realized that her bombs were gone. “Hey!”

“Oh and, by the way. The Prince is very finicky, so these,” The Matriarch held the bag of bombs in her hands with the heat threatening to set them off, “are out of the question. Now get to it.” As Mustache Kid jumped through the ice pillars infront of her, she could her the cold-hearted monarch say something about burning her if she was to break the box. But she was used to those threats, and there wasn’t much to worry about anyways. She continued, occasionally having to break the walls with the fiery fruits and Dwellers hiding around. Eventually she had made it to the other side of the labyrinth of walls and was immediately hit with the extremely cold weather. She adjusted her cape to cover herself and waded through the thick snow, in the direction of the manor in the distance. When she neared the front porch, she could see glowing yellow eyes peer at her through the attic window for a quick second, before blinking out of sight. Hopefully, this ‘Prince’ wouldn’t be as much as an immoral jerk as the Matriarch was. She went to knock on the door before the wood had turned to ice and being rendered unopenable. Mustache Girl groaned as she kicked an ice statue near, but her attitude quickly changed to fear when said statue came to life and tried to smash her head open. Running from living creatures of cold terror, she had ducked into the cellar in the back and shut the doors. While one might think this wouldn’t stop them from breaking in, it did. In fact, they seemed to leave as soon as the door had locked!

Well, she already made it in the house, might as well deliver it personally. She skidded through the cellar floor, the spilled wine having been frozen over the years. Managing to make it upstairs without busting her bust on the slippery ice, she was relieved to find that the rest of the house’s flooring wasn’t in the same state. Mustache Kid wandered down the hallways, the carpeted floors keeping her footsteps quiet. Suddenly, she had heard the sound of glass breaking coming from the room besides her. In an act of impulse, she opened the door, leading her to the library. There didn’t seem to be anyone in here. A broken vase sure, and an ice sculpture that was whispering to her. Wait. On closer inspection, it was a Wally! Though, he was frozen everywhere but his head. “Hey, Little Mustached Child, why are you here?” He asked, his voice shaky and low. Before she could answer, the air grew darker as footsteps could be heard. “Quick! Hide, Get out of Here!” Mustache Kid wasn’t about to question it, she simply slid under the low bookshelves, the gift box conveniently fitting through with her. Just in time too, as a shadowy figure entered the room. It had the same aura that the Matriarch gave off, but its figure was slightly deformed and monstrous. It was safe to assume that this was the Prince that she was referring to. His yellow eyes scanned the scene, panic present in them.

His head snapped towards the Wally as the frozen man panicked. “H-hello Best Friend! I was being clumsy and um, knocked it over-” He frantically tried to explain, as the shadow interrupted him. “You promised, you promised that you wouldn’t break any more stuff last time you broke these. You broke my things, gifts to you last week and you said, ‘Wally will fix that’, ‘Wally won’t break stuff again’. But did you live up to that? No nononono, you didn’t you just lied and lied, and you know how I HATE liars.” The Prince ranted, as the ice on Wally’s body consumed more of him. Mustache Kid watched as he was frozen completely and smashed to pieces by this raving lunatic. The shadows mad shrieks soon dissolved into tears, burying his head in his hands. Mustache Kid slowly crawled out of her hiding spot, placing the gift behind the sobbing mess. She then tried to tip toe her way out of the room before a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Who are you?” The Prince spoke through sobs, as the girl turned to meet his gaze. She seemed to stammer quite a lot, obviously nervous. The royal’s gaze slowly drifted to the nicely wrapped gift between them, the sight swinging his mood straight into a happy delirium. “Did you bring this gift, a gift for me? I’m good enough for gifts?” He asked hopefully, pure joy blooming inside his chest when she had nodded. The Prince chuckled as he suddenly swooped both the box and Mustache Kid in his arms, straight to a bedroom. This caused the kid to become upset, not understanding why he was doing this. But, he simply placed her on a pile of pillows, as he ‘sat’(more along the lines of coiled on) the bed with the gift in his lap. As he tore open the wrapping, Mustache Kid looked around to determine her situation. Everyone but the two of them were frozen solid. Some of them are seals, cats, a lot of them Wallies. “Great, this might as well happen.” She mumbled, as she heard the Prince gasp in surprise. Well, she’s kind of stuck here, might as well find out what the gift was!

A pile of bacon. That was literally it. It wasn’t even good, all of it was charred to crispy charcoal. However, the Prince was very happy to receive this gift. He started scarfing it down quickly, as if as soon as he stopped it would be all gone. He then froze up suddenly. He could hear them. His friends, they were hungry too. They deserved this gift more than he did, and he’s just hogging it like the selfish friend he is. He doesn’t deserve such a nice thing as this, with how horrid he was being. Of course, Mustache Kid didn’t hear any of that. She just looked on in confusion as the Prince went around the room, trying to shove bacon down the ice statues’ throats. Though that went as well as you’d expect it to, as it either fell out (with the Prince eating it anyways) or it just stayed in the mouths of the frozen creatures around him. He made it to Mustache Kid, offering her a handful of burnt bacon. “Oh um, no thanks. I’ve already. Eaten on the way here you know and, snacks aren’t my thing?” She refused, thoughts of an elaborate escape plan flooding through her mind. The Prince sat back on the bed, facing away from everyone as he consumed the rest of the food on his plate. After he was done, he turned to Mustache Kid and held her hands in his freezing cold hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for this wonderful gift. I’ll cherish it, I’ll love it. Never forget it, thank you new friend!” He repeatedly thanked her, his breath hitching as he started to mumble incoherently to himself. He then stood upright, seeming to have snapped back into reality. “It seems like it’s getting dark! None of you, none of you are leaving, r-right? GOOD! Good, I guess that means that we can have a slumber party. You – YOU will join us, won’t you New Friend?” He asked the child, as ice started to form on her legs.

Mustache Kid sat on the pillow pile on the floor, bored out of her mind. Since her bombs are gone and this guy can freeze her in an instant, fighting her way out is out of the question. So is straight up running for the exit. For now, she just has to play along with it. However, the only entertainment right now was watching him start up conversations with the frozen people besides him. And even then it wasn’t really funny. Just sad. She would perk up whenever he spoke to her though. Mainly because he could kill her if she didn’t answer. “Oh, sure! I agree! No way!” After a long while of talking, the Prince stood up. “Okay everyone! I’ve gotten everything prepared for tonight! A nice view, snacks…wait. No, no snacks??” His head rotated 180 degrees (grossing the kid out a bit), facing the empty table meant for housing the refreshments. How could he forget? He should have thought this through! He has a new friend he needs to impress, and this is his first impression? A forgetful dumb stupid idiot who disappoints everyone he meets? He could feel the hateful stares burn up as he backed out of the room. “I’m, I’m going to go get the, snacks. Friend! New Friend, can you come with me?” He practically tugged Mustache Kid out of the room, and downstairs into the kitchen.

Mustache Kid gathered up what small amount of treats she could find in the abandoned cabinets on the table, as the Prince got ready the tea. A couple of crackers, and some preserved fruits. She turned to the Prince, who was shaking as he continuously stirred the tea. At the very least, he was a lot nicer than the Matriarch. “Not many snacks…are there?” She questioned, more out of concern for how he’s been living all this time. While she figured that ghosts don’t need to eat to live, it seemed to cause the Matriarch pain when she missed a meal, imagine living with only this. The Prince put the tea kettle on the tray, along with the cups, before answering. “Hang on, there’s more, I’ll get them.” He walked hurriedly to a hollow spot in the walls, before sliding it aside to reveal some bigger snacks, such as a bag of fish chips of the CC brand and a slice of velvet jelly cake. All of it seems to have been frozen to last, the velvet jelly was absolutely solid when he placed it on the table. Mustache Kid grabbed the snacks, as the Prince carried the tea tray upstairs. “By the way, I’m sorry for being so forgetful. It’s really awful on my part, I hope you can forgive me.” He told her, as they set the tea and snacks down. Of course she’d forgive him, it’s not like he has anything he needs to apologize for.

The night seemed to have gotten better. The two were now talking about law, and frankly hearing about this planets views on justice and law enforcement was pretty interesting. Until he got into the nitty gritty details of it. Not that it was boring, it was just the simple fact that they have all these policies and fallacies and such. But it isn’t complex! There are bad people who need to be arrested, like the Matriarch, whole there are good people who arrest the bad, like herself! Still, she listened intently to his rambles about law theory. Something the Prince isn’t used to! Usually when he rambles to people, they ignore him. It always made him feel like he didn’t matter but when he asked Mustache Kid if she was listening she actually responded! Mustache Kid took a sip of her tea, and grimaced. The tea was ice cold. Which was understandable since the person who made the tea could freeze things with his bare claw hands. But there was also the fact that she actually wasn’t a tea person. The Prince caught on to this. “Is there something wrong? Is it not good enough? I’m sorry I’ll make a new kettle if you hate it-“

“It’s good, it’s okay!” Mustache Kid assured him, almost becoming numb from the ice that had formed up to her knees. It was thin, luckily. She placed a hand on the Prince’s shoulder as he calmed down. “Oh, I’m sorry I just got worried and…” He eventually stopped talking as he leaned into her arms, humming as she petted his head. He liked this, it’s nice. She’s nice. Most of his other friends didn’t hug him like that, they didn’t even tell him nice things. He’s heard of BFFS, Best Friends Forever. Maybe people that nice are BFFs? The Prince never had enough friends to tell. He’ll need to hide her from Vanessa. She’ll come and burn him again, and maybe even burn his new BFF like everything other bit of happiness he hoarded. He didn’t want to think of that. Whenever he did his mind devolved into this dark place he can’t get out of. “So what’s the next event on our list of fun?” Mustache Kid asked, distracting the Prince from his thoughts. “A dance.”

#ahit #a hat in time #swap au #the prince #mustache kid #ahit au #ahit swap au #the matriarch

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ingravinoveritas · 5 years

Text

Title: Reprobation Author: Me Rating: Hard R Pairing: Jonny Lee Miller/Ewan McGregor/Jude Law Warning: Contains sexual content, language, and British boys in their 20s generally being British boys in their 20s. Disclaimer: Not real, never happened (god, I wish), no defamation of character intended. Please don’t sue. Thanks. Summary: Jonny is a Spice Girls fan. Ewan and Jude catch him being one and decide there’s going to be hell to pay. Takes place in the ‘90s when JLM, EM, and JL were roommates in London. Author’s Note: For @memadcow, who is entirely to blame for this, and inspired by one of Jonny’s recent Insta stories. [Also available on AO3.]

“Fuck...”

Jonny frowned at his image in the mirror, pulling off a third tie and throwing it onto the bed. The audition was in two hours, and he still couldn’t decide what to wear. It was for a period piece--not one he found terribly interesting, but options were scarce and so was money--and he’d take anything if it meant keeping the lights on for another month.

A fourth tie flopped its way out of the closet then, and Jonny’s face flushed as he remembered the last time he’d worn it: Not around his neck, but around his wrists, which had been bound behind him.

Happy memories...

He put it on, pleased at the idea of wearing it while spouting some poncy, ridiculous dialogue to a couple of stiffs in suits.

Jonny was surprised to feel his stomach still flutter with nerves, even after all this time, and he rolled his neck, groaning with relief as it cracked.

“Got to calm down...” Music. That always worked.

He went to the dresser to dig through a pile of CDs, quickly finding the one he wanted. He slid the disc into the stereo and skipped to the second track, only to stop the music before it started.

Jonny paused, popping his head into the hallway to make certain that no one else was home. Ewan and Jude had gone to lunch earlier and usually had no qualms about making their presence known, but still. One could never be too careful.

Satisfied that he was alone, Jonny pressed Play and cranked up the volume.

♫ I’m giving you everything / All that joy can bring / This I swear... ♫

Jonny loved the Spice Girls. He’d hidden this fact from the others in their conversations, readily commenting on the hotness of each girl and mumbling agreement on the shite quality of their music. But it wasn’t really shite, he’d decided early on, even if his mates thought it was. It was catchy, happy, fucking fun...and just what he needed right then.

The tension immediately released from his body, shoulders relaxing. He began to dance--small, tenuous motions--and turned away from the mirror, not wanting to watch himself in it. The song kicked into high gear and so did Jonny, raising his arms above his head and swaying his hips from side to side.

Ewan and Jude never walked in quietly to anywhere, both chattering away as they shut the front door behind them. They heard the music and fell silent, and Ewan was sure they had the wrong flat, but the familiar surroundings soon convinced him otherwise.

He and Jude looked at each other, both snickering as they realized at the same time what the song was and where it was coming from.

“What the absolute fuck...” Ewan fought to keep from bursting out laughing. Jude pressed a finger to his lips, nodding his head in the direction of Jonny’s room.

“Come on...” his voice was low, and Ewan followed, both he and Jude shrugging off their jackets along the way.

They tiptoed quietly down the hall, the music growing louder with each step. It was obvious Jonny hadn’t expected them to be home, which somehow made it all the more perfect. His door was wide open, giving the two men a perfect view of Jonny thrusting his pelvis in time to the beat.

Ewan couldn’t resist, placing two fingers in his mouth and letting out a loud whistle. “SHAKE THAT ARSE! GO ON!”

Jonny spun around to face his two best friends laughing uproariously in the doorway. He slammed the Stop button on the stereo with comical force, knocking over the stack of CDs on top of it. His cheeks burned red as he fought to stammer out an explanation.

“Got an audition this afternoon, I was just...yeah. What--thought you were both having lunch. What the fuck?” He glared accusingly at Ewan and Jude, neither one of them buying it.

“Oh, that is so fucking good. Had no idea you were a Spicey fan. That’s probably the best thing I’ve ever seen!” Ewan leaned against the door frame, still laughing, wiping a tear from one eye.

“I think we’re going to need an encore performance, actually. Jude, wouldn’t you agree?”

The blond man had moved past Ewan and bent down to pick up a few of Jonny’s CDs, setting them back on the dresser. Jude kept his eyes on Jonny as he stood, grinning the wicked grin Jonny had seen too many times before.

“Oh, definitely, we are.”

Ewan rubbed his hands together. “That settles it, then. You have to strip off to the Spiceys for us. Tomorrow night.”

“What?! Oh, fuck off,” Jonny scoffed. He was fine with them taking the piss, but public humiliation was a bridge too far.

“Nope, sorry.” Ewan was a pain in the ass when his mind was made up. He glanced at Jude. “Hey, maybe we should invite Sean and Rhys. Sadie, too. I’m sure they’d love a bit of quality entertainment on a Thursday evening.”

Jonny half-laughed, unable to keep the nervous edge out of his voice. “Please, man, no. Don’t. I’m serious.”

“The two of us, then. It’s your choice.” Jude crossed his arms in front of him, smirking as Jonny visibly squirmed.

Oh, now suddenly I have a choice? Right...

“Christ. Fine! I’ll do it. Only if it’s just the two of you.”

The corners of Ewan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, victorious. Jonny was far too easy.

“Brilliant. Tomorrow night, then!” He clapped a hand on Jonny’s shoulder and disappeared into their apartment.

Jude chuckled softly, reaching out to grasp Jonny’s tie, which had gone askew as a result of his dancing. He pulled it straight, noting with mild satisfaction the heat of Jonny’s skin beneath his collar, and stepped back to admire his work.

Neither of them spoke. Jude went to leave and stopped with one foot out the door. He turned back to Jonny.

“Nice moves, mate. Really.”

The air where Jude had been felt heavy in his absence. Jonny breathed deeply as he sat on the edge of the bed, burying his head in his hands. A hundred different thoughts all laced with profanity ran through his mind, and were soon overpowered by a single, dominating one:

...What the fuck am I gonna do?

-----

The audition came and went without incident, though Jonny found he was almost too preoccupied to concentrate on his lines. That night passed similarly, intermittent bouts of sleeplessness overtaking him as he imagined the evening ahead, convinced he was about to look like a complete tosser in front of his friends.

Jonny threw on a t-shirt and stumbled blearily into the kitchen a few hours later, desperate for a strong, hot cup of tea. A very wide awake Scot bounded in soon after, much to his annoyance.

“Look who’s finally up!”

“M’ not really in the mood for a chat,” Jonny didn’t make eye contact, sighing as the first gulp of tea slid down his throat.

Ewan pulled a chair out from the small table. He drew a fag from the pack in his pocket and lit it, several locks of hair falling over his eyes as he sat down and lowered his head to meet Jonny’s gaze.

“So don’t talk, then. Just listen.”

He’d laid in bed half the night fantasizing more than he wanted to admit about Jonny’s dancing, both the day before and the night to come. Ewan basked in the discomfort emanating from the other man, the way it curled around him like smoke. He didn’t really want his friend to be tense, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

“Got you a wee present, actually. For tonight.”

Ewan produced a small white box with a well-tied satin bow on top and placed it in front of him. Jonny warily eyed the alleged gift, hesitantly setting aside his tea to open it.

Inside was a small wad of tissue paper, and resting on top, a metallic red thong.

“Oh my god...”

Jonny’s gobsmacked expression was everything Ewan could have hoped for. He clasped his cigarette between two fingers and threw his head back, a throaty laugh escaping his lips.

“Wear it.”

“You are properly out of your fucking mind if you think that’s happening.”

Ewan smiled beatifically, the sort of smile Jonny hated for how it weakened his already flaccid resolve.

“Ah, come on. You’ve got to have a big finish! Besides, Jude’ll love it.”

Jonny stiffened at the mention of their roommate. He could still feel Jude tightening his tie, the touch of the blond man’s hands setting off a pool of heat in the pit of his stomach. He glanced down at the box--where did Ewan even get this damned thing?--and bit his lower lip, contemplating the possibilities.

That little pause confirmed what Ewan already suspected. He stood up, trying not to look entirely self-satisfied, and stubbed the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

“Knew you’d come round. I’m off. See you tonight, Spice Boy!”

He leaned over to plant a kiss on the top of Jonny’s head, giggling as the seated man shoved him away. Ewan dashed out of the kitchen, the sound of loud singing wafting down the hall until the front door slammed shut behind him.

The cup of tea had gone cold, and Jonny wanted to be more irritated than he was.

Bastard. How the hell did he know?

Of course he knew. Ewan always bloody knew everything.

It wasn’t that he cared what Jude thought--no, certainly not--but Jude had always been the pretty one, the one who made all the girls (and a good number of the boys) weak at the knees. The thought of out-seducing the seducer and being the one to get to him for a change was too tempting to resist.

Jonny picked up the thong. He studied the ridiculous shiny red fabric for a few moments, a small smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

Fuck it...

If they wanted a show, he’d give them a show.

-----

Jude and Ewan plowed through the take-away they’d ordered for dinner in record time. Jonny was already dressed in the ensemble he’d chosen for the act. He ate slowly, cocking an eyebrow as he watched the two of them watch him take each bite. He casually brought his dish to the sink, smirking to himself before turning to face them.

“Showtime, yeah?”

The boys nearly fell over themselves getting to the living room, grabbing a few bottles of beer from the fridge for good measure. Jude and Ewan got comfortable, taking up residence on either end of the old leather couch. Jonny placed the CD in the stereo, straightening his tie and blazer and smoothing his hair in place.

Now or never...

“Ready?”

It seemed a bit silly to ask, but there was little else left to say.

“Aye, fuckin’ right, we are!” Ewan shouted, taking a swig from his bottle.

The first few seconds of the song came on and Ewan reached over to elbow Jude in the arm.

“This is going to be hilarious.”

Jonny swallowed hard, trying to remember what girls had done in the clubs they’d gone to, what qualified as being ‘sexy’ and what didn’t, and oh, bugger it--

♫ I’m giving you everything / All that joy can bring / This I swear... ♫

He dropped his hips on the first beat, swinging them from side to side as he undid his blazer and shrugged it off of one shoulder.

Ewan and Jude gasped, then hooted and cheered with approval.

“Oh, shit! YES!”

“Do it! Do it!”

Spurred on by their reactions, Jonny slid the blazer off, giving it a twirl over his head before tossing it aside. The tie was next, loosened from around his neck and dispatched in short order.

♫ But any fool can see they're falling / I gotta make you understand... ♫

He took his time with the buttons on his shirt, teasing the two men with a gradual reveal of naked skin, the edge of the Scorpio tattoo on his stomach just visible with the last few buttons still done up, waiting...

The chorus came on again and Jonny ripped the shirt off, grinning coquettishly at Jude and Ewan and curling out the tip of his long tongue invitingly.

Christ, this is actually fun, he thought as they further lost their minds, screaming excitedly and making lewd gestures in his direction.

Jonny let the shirt slide off and reached for his belt, a faint blush pinking his cheeks. The room felt significantly warmer than it had moments ago, which didn’t seem possible given his newfound lack of clothing, yet the increase in temperature was palpable.

He moved closer to the couch, one hand lazily unbuttoning the front of his trousers, his gaze flickering between them before settling on Jude. This time it was the blond man who swallowed hard, and Jonny could swear he was holding his breath. He maintained eye contact with Jude, the heat on his skin heightening further as Jude’s focus burned into him.

♫ There is no need to say you love me / It would be better left unsaid... ♫

Jonny winked, and in a single motion pulled the belt the rest of the way off, grabbing it between two hands and cracking it in midair.

“Oh, someone’s a kinky bastard, eh?” Ewan said almost too loudly, as if to remind them he was still there. He dug his fists into the couch, pushing himself up and craning his neck toward Jonny like an eager cat following the scent of meat.

...Jealous, are we?

Jonny was amused at how obvious Ewan could be, even for him. He looked over and Ewan had stopped moving, his legs splayed open as pale blue eyes stared into him.

“Come on! Give us a lap dance.”

Challenge accepted...

Jonny stood in front of Ewan, breathing deeply as he knelt over him, placing a leg on either side of his hips. He took one end of the belt in each hand and looped it around Ewan’s neck, pulling him close.

“Fuck’s sake...” Ewan’s laugh quickly became a soft gasp as Jonny ground his hips into his crotch. He was suddenly keenly aware of Jonny’s weight on him, and the warm, bare chest pressed against his body.

He slid his hands down to cup Jonny’s ass, and it was Jonny’s turn to gasp as Ewan squeezed, digging his nails into the cloth-covered flesh. Ewan closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the scent of Jonny that now seemed to be everywhere.

“Mmh...”

Jonny heard a murmur from beside them and turned to look at Jude, who was leaning an arm against the back of the couch. He rested his head in his hand as he watched them intently, entranced. Jonny began to wonder what Jude’s lap felt like, drifting off as he imagined Jude’s strong hands supporting his weight.

“Oi!”

Ewan demanded attention, indignantly bucking his hips up into Jonny, nearly sending him off balance. He opened his mouth to protest but stopped as he felt an unmistakable hardness forming in Ewan’s jeans.

Oh...

Jonny didn’t have time to wonder if he was the cause as the instrumental break in the song ended, bringing him back to his senses long enough to remember the task at hand. He climbed off of Ewan, tossed the belt aside, and stood in front of them, hooking two fingers into his waistband.

Jonny’s torso was covered in a sheen of sweat, heart pounding as he realized what he was about to do, embarrassment and arousal running together through his veins, blood rising in his face and other parts of his anatomy that soon would be on display.

He resumed dancing, slowly, achingly, thrusting his hips and pushing the waistband of his black trousers down, grey eyes never leaving Ewan and Jude, desperate to take in every second of their reactions.

Here goes something... Jonny thought, sending a quick prayer to whatever was out there.

He shoved the trousers down completely, kicking them off, revealing the pièce de résistance of the night.

“YES!”

Ewan was thoroughly pleased, his shirt pushed up and one hand tweaking his already taut nipple. The hardness from earlier had grown, filling the front of his jeans, and he kept his legs open, not bothering to hide.

“Oh my god!”

Jonny was afraid to look, convinced Jude was about to start laughing. Yet what he saw was Jude’s mouth quite literally hanging open at the sight of his best friend wearing a metallic red thong. Of greater significance, Jonny noted, was Jude cupping a hand over his own hard-on, stroking one thumb across it as he stared at him.

Feeling triumphant, Jonny lifted his arms above his head, still dancing, his breathing reduced to a series of panting gasps. He was determined to make the most out of the last few seconds of the song, turning to give Ewan and Jude a full view of his hips and ass. He spun back around as the music was dying down, the tail end drowned out by their cheers and applause as he took a bow.

Jonny collapsed into a chair perpendicular to the couch, breathless, cheeks flushed and chest hair damp with sweat. None of them moved or said anything for what seemed like an eternity, a zzzzip! sound finally breaking the silence.

Ewan had undone his jeans, his erection now on full display, one hand wrapped around it as he gazed at Jonny while stroking himself.

“Sorry, mate. You’ve got me all hot and bothered and I cannae wait.”

That Ewan was a complete exhibitionist came as no surprise to Jonny, but the rustling of fabric from Jude’s direction did. Jude had pushed his trousers down, revealing a very prominent bulge in his blue Y-fronts.

Jonny’s pulse throbbed in his ears, the rush of adrenaline from everything he’d just done coursing through him, his cock harder than he could remember it being in a long while, or at least a week. His roommates--his two best friends, for god’s sake--were equally turned on by him. Because of him.

If there was any way he anticipated the night’s events unfolding, it was surely not this.

Jude had the front of his shirt undone, a hand caressing his chest, and had started wanking himself. The shiny red thong stretched obscenely over Jonny’s own erection, and he followed suit, pushing the fabric aside.

The room was silent for several minutes, save for a few quiet groans and the sound of flesh on flesh. Jonny felt keenly aware of two sets of eyes trained on him, and slid his free hand under his scrotum. He played with his balls, moaning shamelessly, his cock twitching and hardening more knowing they were both watching.

Ewan was wanton in his pleasure, incoherent sounds soon giving way to semicoherent, stream-of-consciousness babbling, his accent growing thicker and rougher with arousal.

“So fuckin’ hot, Jonny. I kent you’d be. Want you so bad, yeah. Driving me absolutely mad. Want tae touch you, want tae feel you. Christ...”

Jonny let his head fall against the back of the chair. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on his cock, moving his thumb over the slit, where a few drops of precum had already formed.

Flashes of images flooded his mind, of Ewan tying him up, Ewan giving him a handjob, wrapping his lips around Ewan’s cock, Ewan kissing Jude in front of him, sucking Jude while he watched, unable to touch, Jude threading a hand in Jonny’s hair and pulling roughly, biting and clawing his bare throat, Jude kissing him, Jude, Jude...

Louder moans filled the room, and Jonny realized they were coming from him. His balls tightened and raised, and he knew his climax was approaching fast. He opened his eyes and looked over at Jude, his erection curved against his tanned stomach, green eyes darkened with lust, and it took everything in Jonny not to come right then and there.

“Gonna fuckin’ come, boys. So close...so close...” Ewan hissed, skin twitching as he drank in the sight of Jonny slumped back in the chair. Jonny’s lips were parted, letting out the most irresistible high-pitched mewling noises as he jerked off feverishly.

“Fuck...FUCK!”

Ewan’s hips bucked up hard, a long, loud groan spilling out of him as he came, streaks of cum landing on his chest, shoulder, and cheek. He lowered his eyes to Jonny, darting his tongue out to lick away a few droplets, and Jonny’s stomach clenched at the deliciously filthy sight.

“Jesus Christ...” Jonny’s voice was barely above a hoarse whisper.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the sultry call of his own name from Jude.

“Jon...” Jude panted, long lashes falling over his eyes.

“I can’t...oh, fuck...fucking hell...”

Visions of Jonny raced through his mind, lovely and writhing beneath him, surrounding him like hot velvet, and he thrashed from side to side as he came. Jude’s hand stilled on his cock, his mouth falling open in an ‘O’ as spurt after spurt shot out onto the flat plane of his stomach.

Whatever tiny shred of self-control Jonny had vanished, and he threw his head back as his orgasm overtook him.

“Ungh...UNGH! Ahh!“

The heat of his climax was searing, brighter than anything he could remember feeling before, tingling in his toes and rushing like lightning up his spine. Jonny’s back arched, hips nearly raised off the chair as cum coated his hand, his stomach, and all over the shiny, red fabric.

That’s gonna be a bitch to clean out... he thought for no apparent reason, laughing to himself before slumping back into the chair, trying to regain feeling in his feet and hands.

The sound of shallow breaths lessened as they all came down, Ewan being the first to return to normal.

“Well, I’m havin’ a shower. You two sticky wankers can wait your turn.”

He got up and peeled his shirt and kecks fully off, tossing them on the couch as he stretched.

“Mind the cushions, yeah?!” Jonny chided him. It was going to be difficult enough getting the red thong cleaned, let alone the ridiculous idea of hauling a whole sofa down to the launderette.

Ewan laughed at Jonny’s petulance, grabbing his clothes and nearly skipping over to him, one arm pressed against the back of the chair as he leaned close to Jonny’s face.

“Cheers for the show. You were brilliant. In no small part due to my incredibly thoughtful last minute gift, of course.”

Jonny rolled his eyes and scoffed, any rebuttal he’d formulated abruptly silenced by Ewan covering Jonny’s mouth with his own in an appreciative kiss. He pressed his forehead to Jonny’s.

“Mmh. More later, yeah?” Ewan whispered, caressing a thumb over the seated man’s lips. Jonny nodded.

Ewan stood back up, turning to grin at Jude, slapping him on the leg.

“That better have been me you were thinking about shagging!”

“You bloody wish,” Jude shouted after Ewan, who’d already disappeared down the hall into the loo.

Jude shook his head and laughed, then looked over at Jonny. Neither man said anything for a moment, enjoying the warm silence.

“Ah, I’d better get sorted then, too.” He pushed himself up by his arms, grunting as the muscles in his lower back came to life.

Jude removed his shirt, slinging it over one arm. He strode over to Jonny and knelt down slightly, circling a hand around the back of Jonny’s head and pulling him close.

Jonny watched Jude’s mouth, lips so close he could taste them, not wanting to speak for fear of breaking the spell. Jude kissed him then, and Jonny opened his mouth eagerly, sighing as Jude’s tongue massaged his own.

Jude reluctantly ended the kiss a few moments later, both men fighting for air. He glanced down at Jonny’s softening cock and the mess in his lap, the red thong now looking a bit worse for the wear.

“I hope you’re gonna keep that thing around, it’s too good not to,” Jude breathed against Jonny’s lips.

Jonny smiled, wanting nothing more than to kiss Jude again.

“Oh, I will, I will. All for you, Jude. Always.”

Jude reached out a hand to pinch Jonny’s nipple, then withdrew, winking at Jonny before sauntering out of the room.

Exhaustion finally set in, and Jonny forced himself to get out of the chair, knowing full well that if he fell asleep that way, Ewan and Jude would take pictures and scatter them around the flat at their next party.

He shoved the red thong down, not at all fazed by the fact that he was standing stark naked in their living room--which twenty-four hours earlier seemed unfathomable--and wiped himself off with it, tossing it on top of his other clothes.

Turns out a little public humiliation is good for the soul.

Jonny stalked off to the kitchen for a snack, thinking of all the ways he could get Ewan to scrub cum stains out of leather upholstery.

#jonny lee miller #ewan mcgregor #jude law #elementary #sherlock holmes #ink broadway #spice girls #brainy british thirst trap #fanfic #RPF #writing #these men are going to kill me

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ceruleanmusings · 6 years

Note

in the dark kisses for wynn and toni 😍

Also features @isaaclahys‘s Riya Rose (now you know why I was asking so many questions besides just wanting to know more about her ;)) Hope you don’t mind me borrowing her and doing a mini crossover!

“What’s with the crowded halls?” Wynn asked as she slipped her messenger bag off her shoulder. She spun the dial on her lock to the last number and popped it open. Thank you, Ned’s Declassified! She hung up her messenger bag and placed her late pass onto the top shelf.

“Didn’t you hear? The Southside moved in today,” Riya replied. Wynn hummed in interest as she pulled a box of poptarts out of her bag and held it out to her locker neighbor. They’d been placed next to each other alphabetically for years—Rose and Tate—and their frequent hallway run-ins were something to look forward to. They traded snacks and hearsay when given the chance between classes. It made the part where they had to take classes and do homework a little more bearable. As Riya took off the shiny foil wrapping, her eyebrows furrowed and she asked, “Where were you anyway?”

“Mom had an early doctor’s appointment. And since we only have one car, Pop wanted to cut down on how much he was driving around,” Wynn explained as she took a pink Starburst out of the bag at the top of her locker and popped it into her mouth. “Besides, I wanted to hear what the doctors had to say.”

“Is she okay?”

Wynn shrugged. “As much as she can be, I guess. No improvements but…no setbacks so it’s better than nothing, right?”

“No news is good news,” Riya agreed with a smile and a bump to her arm.

“On that subject, I can’t imagine that the Serpents were well-received.”

“Oh? Did you see the pitchforks in the trash?”

“Close. I was nearly choked by the tension when I walked in.” With a teasing wink she added, “And not in the fun way.”

Riya rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say that Cheryl and Reggie made it clear where they stand in the whole thing.”

“In a pile of bullshit?” Wynn suggested with a smirk. Riya laughed and Wynn went back to getting her books for her next class. She had missed History—thankfully!—and Science. So that meant math was next. Good, math was one of her best subjects. She closed her locker, set the first two numbers, and turned around in time to see as people in the hallway started to part. Interest piqued, Wynn looked past Riya to see a group of Southside Serpents, lead by Jughead, walking down the hallway. Jughead sported his almost ever present frown and the other three following behind him held stiff jaws and clenched fists.

Wynn couldn’t help but make a comment. “Jesus, Jughead, did someone give you coffee that wasn’t black enough for you?”

“Not in the mood, Wynn,” Jughead commented, a little more burusque than usual. They traded barbs sometimes—hipster and poser flung the most often—but it was all in good fun. Wynn and Jughead practically grew up together in Pop’s; he spent a lot of time there. He was one of their best customers.

Her eyebrow popped. “What bit your ass?”

Jughead rubbed his bottom lip with a hand and stepped towards her. She noticed that his dark circles seemed, if possible, darker. “Your boy-toy has no qualms with marking his territory. Think you can put a muzzle on him?”

Wynn scoffed and held up her hands, as if to block his words. “I take no responsibility for his dumb ass. As far as I’m concerned he can get whatever’s coming to him.”

“Wait.” Wynn’s eyes shifted over to the tall one. He brought tall, dark, and handsome to an entirely new level. It was almost as if he stepped out of the pages of some YA romance novel, tattoos, narrowed eyes, and all. “Fleabag belongs to you?”

Wynn blinked, stunned, though she wasn’t sure if it should be attributed to someone actually referring to Reggie as Fleabag or to the fact that this…guy thought that he was her possession. Thankfully, Riya spoke up before she could. “Don’t mind him, this serpent’s more bite than venom.”

Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s stern gaze turned to Riya and she held it, lifting her eyebrows as if to challenged him. An amused smile blossomed on Wynn’s face as she looked back and forth between the two. For a brief moment her eyes locked with the girl who stood closest with Tall, Dark, and Handsome and she noticed that she, too, was restraining a smile.

“Anyway,” Riya said with a flippant tone, “that’s Sweet Pea for you.” Wynn really had to keep from laughing. Of course his name would be Sweet Pea. The only other option would be Tiny, wouldn’t it? “That’s Fangs,” Riya motioned to the quiet boy that stood behind Jughead, “and this is Toni. Guys, this is Wynn.”

“Hey.” Wynn lifted her chin in Toni’s direction. “I like your hair.” She really did; she was jealous of the color and how well it set in Toni’s hair. If she’d tried to do anything to her pile of curls she’d be paying for it later.

“Thanks.” Toni gave a half smile as she pulled on the end strands of her hair. “I like yours too.”

Wynn made a face. “You say that now. This is after taming it for two hours. if it rains? It’s a goner.”

“Oh, girl, I know,” Toni said with a little laugh. “The trick is to use a little more conditioner than usual. It’ll lock everything down.”

“Speaking of lockdown, we should get to class,” Jughead spoke up, clearly uninterested in the efforts of a good hair day. “Before we’re put under lockdown.”

“Actually, this is my locker,” Toni said, pointing to Wynn’s right. “So, I’ll just meet you guys in class alright?”

The boys grunted in response and ambled away. Save for Sweet Pea, who seemed to make it a mission to have some sort of staring contest with Riya as he walked away. Grumbling, Riya said around her poptart, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

Toni chuckled as she opened her locker door. “If he can see through his heart-eyes, that is.”

“That’s a laugh. Sweet Pea wouldn’t know what a heart is if someone ripped it out of their chest and presented it to him,” she said.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Wynn said in an airy tone. Riya gave her a look and Wynn shrugged. “Hamlet’s a good play.”

“Keep Shakespeare out of my life.”

Wynn laughed. “Would you prefer a Greek Chorus instead?”

“Ooh, I’m down for that,” Toni spoke up, a smirk curling on her lips as she put her bag in her locker. “Following you around all day, voicing those oh so forbidden thoughts that tend to run through your mind when Sweet Pea’s around.”

“Maiming and dismemberment?” Riya offered.

“Just what every girl fantasizes,” Wynn joked. Her eyes shifted back over to Toni, slipping down her neck and resting on the camera that hung in front of her. She hummed. “Nice equipment you got there.” When Toni’s chin hit her chest and then was followed closely by a raised brow, Wynn’s eyes fluttered closed and she briefly stuttered out, “C-camera. Talkin’ ‘bout the camera. Not your jugs.”

“Well, they are nice,” Toni said with a particular incline to her head. Wynn cleared her throat. “And thanks. It’s nothing special but it gets the job done.”

“Oh, forgot to mention,” Riya spoke up—Wynn didn’t miss the shit-eating grin on her face, “Toni was on the newspaper back in Southside High. She was saying something about wanting to check out the dark room.”

“Being that you actually have one, figured I should get myself familiar with it,” Toni agreed.

“Lucky for you, Wynn here is the photographer for the yearbook,” Riya said with a nudge to Wynn’s arm.

Wynn gave a modest shrug. “We use digital mostly, the dark room’s just a formality and if anyone wants to learn how to use actual film. Or if we want to go for a certain affect.” Spotting the way Toni’s eyes lit up she said. “Would you…like to…see it?” She didn’t know why it came out as a question; something about Toni had shifted her self-absurdness off-kilter.

“Only if we have time. I don’t want to make you late for class.”

“She has a pass,” Riya jumped in. She slapped her hand on the slip at the top of Wynn’s locker and practically shoved it in her hands. “Come find me at lunch, okay?” She closed her locker and said to Wynn with a wide smile “you’re welcome” and hurried away.

Wynn blinked at Riya’s retreating back and clutched her late pass in her hands. Sighing, she turned on her booted foot and flashed a smile at Toni who stood by, waiting. “So…how are you liking Riverdale High so far?”

“Well, the windows are intact, you have working toilets, the teachers actually know your name, and I’m not getting frisked every morning,” Toni replied. “So far, this is a nice step up.”

“Just wait. That shiny veneer that makes everything look like gold will be stripped away soon enough and you’ll find everything’s just bronze.”

“Well, when you’re used to tin, bronze is a nice step up.”

Wynn bobbed her head; she understood that sentiment wholeheartedly. She wasn’t ashamed to say that she got excited when she got her first phone three years ago. It was a few generations behind all her friends and some of the buttons were wonky but it was a phone and it was hers.

“So how’d you get into photography?” Wynn asked, glancing to her side. Her mouth twisted to the side when she spotted Toni walking with her elbows out, as if waiting to push someone out of her way. In the spacious halls that housed Riverdale High it was an odd sight. She didn’t comment on it.

They spoke with an ease that loosened Wynn’s otherwise stiff tongue, marveling in their shared revelations that they both lived with their grandfathers, worked as waitresses at their local eateries, had an interest in photography, and that their grandfathers were the ones that bought their “babies”: for Toni her camera, for Wynn her podcasting microphone.

By the time they reached the room in question Wynn had to mentally get a grip on herself lest people would notice the little wings that sprouted on her shoes. She had a good group of friends but not many girl friends, save for Riya and Valerie, so it was nice to get along with someone who was a lot less prone to dramatics as compared to Betty and Veronica.

“Wait, hold on. Lemme just…” Wynn knocked on the door a couple times, pressed her ear to it, and then turned the knob. “We’re good.”

“What was that about?” Toni asked, following her into the room.

“People sometimes sneak in here to makeout,” Wynn replied with a wave of her hand. “You have to be careful or else you’ll get an eyeful of something you weren’t prepared for.”

“Worse than someone on a coke binge?”

Wynn whirled around; Toni had said it with such nonchalance, almost as if she were commenting on a cloud in the sky. What kind of school was Southside High? She heard rumors, of course, but those things tended to stay that way. Where there was smoke there was fire and blah blah blah but she wasn’t the sort to put much stock into what people whispered about. She lived in a world of facts (and, yes, she knew she was being a bit hypocritical since she consumed Riverdale gossip but that was bonding time and that was different.)

“Well, I mean, if you don’t mind trading a few winks with a one-eyed monster then—”

“Gross!” Toni said, laughing. She held up her hand. “I think I get it.” She slowly walked around the room, the heel of her boot echoing with every step she took. Wynn stayed back, watching Toni’s face as she took in the computers and printers and equipment stationed around the room. Watched the awe settle into Toni’s eyes and slacken her jaw. “Is this the dark room?” She pointed at a closed door in the back.

“Yeah. The room next to it is where we develop pictures in the bath and everything.” Wynn walked around her, catching a whiff of something melon scented and opened the door. “Once the light is off, the red bulb on the outside goes on so people know that it’s occupied and not to open the door. Lest they want to suffer a very slow and painful death.”

“But how do you keep the light from getting in?” Toni asked.

“The door goes to the floor. It’s not ideal for the claustrophobic sort, let me tell you. This dark room actually does its job. It gets dark.”

“Can I see?”

Wynn’s eyebrows lowered. It was a bit of a strange question, she had to admit. It wans’t too hard to figure out what a dark room looked like but the particular way Toni looked at her made her swallow her words of confusion and instead nod stiffly.

She waited for Toni to enter the room and closed the door. Hmm, she didn’t remember it feeling this small. Granted, she was rarely in the room with another person save for a few stolen moments last year… She scrunched up her nose, shook her head, blew out a breath and then flipped the light switch. Toni’s face was replaced with a stifling swath of pitch black. Wynn rubbed her hands on the legs of her jeans, and then winced when they brushed against something as they swung forward.

“Shit, sorry—can’t see you.”

Toni laughed. “That’s kinda the point, right?” Her voice came from somewhere in front of Wynn. It sounded a bit closer than it had before.

“Yeah. Riverdale does a few things right.”

Silence. Then…

“So…you used to date that guy?”

“Who?” Wynn hated how small her voice sounded.

“Fleabag?”

“Reggie.” She licked her bottom lip. “It’s..complicated.”

“Always seem to be.”

“I guess.” Wynn cleared her throat. “I broke up with him over the summer.” Not that you needed to know that. Still, she felt compelled to explain.

“Oh?” Her voice was definitely closer now. Something brushed against her hand. She didn’t move away.

“Yeah. Just another mistake I’m trying to move on from.”

“To another guy?”

The steady thump-thump-thump of Wynn’s heart sounded in her ears and her mouth dried and she suddenly wished they weren’t encased in darkness. “To anyone at this point,” she uttered.

The melon scent hit her again; overwhelmingly so. She tasted it on her tongue; cantaloupe or something of the like. She didn’t think on it too much for, a second later, she tasted something sweeter: Toni.

Sparks shot through her at the briefest touch of Toni’s lips against hers. It was a chaste kiss; a little sticky from Toni’s lipgloss. It was different, very nice but different.

Wynn’s breath shook and she alternately pushed her thumb against each knuckle until they popped, a nervous habit she was yet to break. Toni’s fingers brushed against hers, and then her hands held on tight. Almost pulling her down.

Wynn took a step forward, pressing her lips against Toni’s. Her eyelids fluttered shut, she sucked in a breath when Toni pressed back against her and—

Brrrrrrrriiiinnnngggg!

Startled, Wynn jerked backwards. Her chest heaved and her hands shook. “That was the bell,” she managed to utter. Damn, one kiss from a pretty girl suddenly turned her into Captain Obvious.

“I know,” Toni replied. Wynn almost saw the smile on her face.

“You’re going to be late for class.”

Toni squeezed her hands. “That’s okay. People probably expect it. After all, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh yeah?” Toni leaned in and kissed her again, so Wynn continued against her mouth, “What kind of reputation is that?”

Toni let go of Wynn’s hands, choosing to wrap them around her neck instead, drawing her closer. “Shut up and I’ll show you.”

Wynn did as she was told.

#isaaclahys #fyeahriverdaleocs #fyeahocsofcolor #ocappreciation #again i got carried away. this was supposed to be short! T^T #i just like to take time and set everything up apparently #toni topaz #riverdale fanfic #toni topaz x oc #riverdale #under a read more for length #because this was supposed to be short!!!

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jungnoir · 7 years

Text

truce;

im changkyun | "I’m up to the challenge.” rival!au. | 3k words. | fluff, suggestive. requested. you can thank my evil elders @minsugadotcom and @seoulscapes for making me bias this demon in the first place and then request this :)

a/n: loosely based off of blood by day6.

Surely, there is no emotion stronger than hate. There is no feeling in the world that could rival the pleasure of prevailing against someone you despise, there couldn’t possibly be a better moment than the one where you come out on top once more. There could not be, in your mind, an emotion stronger than hate. Hate drove you, woke you up every morning and put you on the path to success. Hate was dominant. It was powerful. It felt good.

It took only one week for you to realize hate was not what was driving you anymore. It had taken five days for you to realize that it was love instead.

You weren’t sure what did it for you the first day you walked into class, books in hand and otherwise dead to the world because you just had to sign up for an eight a.m. class, didn’t you? Screw that “productive” mindset you had planned on keeping up with at the beginning of the year. Now you were just cranky and mad, not a productive thought in sight.

You had just barely slid into a seat in the surprisingly large lecture hall that’s filling up quick, body sighing in relief at finally being able to stop moving (not only was this class early in the morning, it was also all the way across campus!), when someone’s pale hand came slamming down on top of your books. The sound it made was loud enough to startle a few people nearby you (including a crimson haired giggle box), but when you looked over at them, realization simply flickered in their eyes before they started to laugh and murmur “there he goes again”. There who goes again? And why was he bothering you so early in the morning? Did he have a death wish?

You look up, and find that you’re much closer to this stranger’s face than you would have originally liked. You also head-butted him in the chin too, and you only feigned concern for a moment when he grabbed at his mouth, moving his chin back and forth to check that he still had full function of his jaw before he looked at you with a fire in his eyes that you really couldn’t comprehend. “Did you just head-butt me?” “You were hovering. That’s your fault.”

He seemingly opens his mouth to protest, then shuts it. Then opens it again, “That’s my seat.”

“This is a lecture hall,” you deadpan, pointing to the several few seats that still hadn’t been filled up yet, “this is first come first serve. If you want a seat so bad, go find another.”

“I need to sit here.” He says, and the tone in his voice is almost laughable, as if he was trying to intimidate you. On any other given day, you might’ve entertained this, maybe even challenged him for a little bit just to see what you were working with. You were always too competitive for your own good.

The redhead beside you stops that train of thought however, with a gentle smile and a soft I know look, “Actually, this is his seat. We decided to sit together in this class because I’m shit at calculus and I’ll need his help. I’m really sorry about this.” The redhead is eons more polite than the other one, and even though you want to stay seated out of spite, you also don’t want to deprive another student of easy learning if he’s got the chance. You’re not an asshole like this other guy, after all.

So, today is not any other day, and you’re getting more annoyed by the second. All you can do is shove your books into your bag and push yourself up from the chair, the chair squeaking against the floor with exaggeration (just to bring more light to the stupidity of your situation right now), and then you shove past the light haired boy currently smirking like he’s just outsmarted you. The shove to his shoulder knocks him back a step or two, and you snort under your breath before you make your ascension up the stairs on the side of the lecture hall to another seat between a booger-picker and someone literally asleep.

Once settled into your new seat, the lecture begins a few minutes later, and you find your eyes glued to the back of your offender’s head as he answers every question with ease and speed, sounding none too challenged at all. Even when you try to focus on the notes on the board or the discussion that takes place on the properties of blah blah blah, you can’t help looking back at that guy every few seconds, almost like your mind can’t believe he had the audacity to try you like that.

A new feeling begins to burn in the pit of your stomach; there is a warning sign on your head when class ends but the jerk completely ignores it when he sends you a snooty grin your way before you exit class, his back pressed up against the door. It’s obvious he’s going to talk to the professor afterwards too, as if to further prove his point of being the teacher’s new pet.

“Careful,” you slyly grin, stopping by him to whisper near his ear, and you find yourself giggling when goosebumps appear by the skin of his neck, “your lips are gonna hurt from all that ass kissing.”

Something flares in between the both of you in that moment, something that neither of you had experienced to that extent before. It was rivalry at its finest, with you daring to overstep a self-proclaimed genius in that moment being a choice of impulse. Fire burns in the pit of your chest when his dark eyes lock with yours, his cocky smile being replaced with a frown that excited you more than deterred you. And from that moment on, you and Im Changkyun are enemies.

You soon learn that the red haired boy is named Minhyuk, and he’s got five other friends aside from he-who-shall-not-be-named: Jooheon, a sweet lacrosse player who was more often than not spending his cram time in the gym instead of the library. Kihyun, an even more self-proclaimed genius (but with the credentials to back all of it up, unlike Changkyun) that had promptly taken to fishing Changkyun away from you by the ear whenever the three of you happened to cross paths. Hyunwoo, another lacrosse player that looked far too sweet and doe-eyed in the face to be paired with such an astounding body. Hyungwon, the sleepy nursing major with too many things on his plate to ever stay completely rooted in the conversation. And finally, Hoseok, the ever so pretty swimmer that would kindly reprimand Changkyun whenever he got too full of himself.

They had somehow become your friends, which you didn’t have too many qualms over, save for the fact that Changkyun was also one of them. But, so long as Changkyun and you were seated as far away from each other as possible, and so long as neither of you said anything to piss each other off, it was fine.

Thing was, things never went exactly according to plan.

You’d often find yourself in a quarrel with the boy everyday, and if you didn’t, it most likely was because you didn’t see him that day. The boy barely let you live for anything, and neither did you, which left a lingering tension between you two even when you both weren’t near each other. Many times, Minhyuk had attempted to satiate the situation between the both of you, but your rivalry had gone far past just dislike. No, there was something between you and Changkyun that you had to prove. And you’d be damned if you ever let him gain the upperhand.

For a while, it really was just pure hatred between the both of you and nothing more. The both of you were notorious for trying to outdo each other in everything. If it wasn’t the classes you shared, it was the title of being Jooheon and Hyunwoo’s biggest supporters during their games, or it was the one who could stomach the cafeteria tuna salad more, or it was who could sprint fastest around the track in the gym. There was always some way you two were trying to one up one another, and it was starting to get serious. You hadn’t rested since the day you met Changkyun, and neither had he. The point both of you had to prove to each other (which had honestly been marred and all over the place since the get-go) had yet to be proven.

Only now, there was a bit of a… roadblock in the way, if you will. You liked him. Scratch that, loved him. It wasn’t even a stretch at this point; after months of antagonizing each other and trying your best to defeat the other in… whatever presented itself as a challenge for the both of you, you had somewhere, along the way, fallen for the asshole. As much as you had assured yourself that wouldn’t happen, it seemed your feelings had other plans.

Smartly, you let the feelings sit for a while instead of letting any of the other boys know. Not that you didn’t trust them, but if word did happen to get back to Changkyun somehow, you’d be ruined. As long as Changkyun or any of the boys stayed oblivious, you could quietly sort out how you felt and find that it wasn’t love, but rather confused affection. Right? Right. Of course. There was no way that such strong hatred had turned into love… of course not.

You waited a week. You felt the same.

Then two weeks. Still the same.

By the time a month had passed, you were less argumentative and just plain drained every time you saw him. Him, Im Changkyun, being the snarky boy of 175 centimeters and zero tolerance for you. However, after you had settled into half-hearted insults and grunts of disapproval instead of indulging him in overblown arguments about this and that. He’d since been less impassioned to keep up the feud, and soon, it was more awkward silences than there were brawls in the hallways of your school.

Changkyun felt awkward now every time he saw you, because instead of having a reason to insult you or negate everything you said, he now was left to come up with some other means of keeping himself occupied. It did not become apparent to him until that very moment just how much time he spent talking about or at you. Only when you refused to speak to him did he realize just how much you influenced his day to day life. Needless to say, he was dying without the attention.

Much to the other boys’ amusement, though they didn’t verbally say so.

All of the tension between the two of you had seemingly boiled to a head when Changkyun had promptly and openly challenged you to play against him in a game of basketball with the boys when you had answered with an unenthusiastic, “No thanks.”

No, now this was really getting ridiculous. You never turned him down when a chance arose for you to win against him. Him, who couldn’t even play a game of mini-basketball at the arcade without getting hit smack dab in the face by his own throw. You would never in your right mind pass up a moment like this.

“Kihyun, take my place in the game,” Changkyun huffs, throwing the idle pink haired boy in the stands the ball with such force that Kihyun nearly calls him a punk, but Changkyun past listening at this point. Instead, he’s striding up to you, your head in your hands as you look on, uninterested, “can we talk?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed into something you’d think was worry. It strikes something in you, and you’re quietly nodding along, following after his form as it passes through and disappears past the gym’s doors.

You struggle a bit to keep up with the taller boy, mind running a mile a minute to discern what exactly he’d call you out of the gym for. Changkyun rarely spoke to you one on one, unless of course, he was pissed. And while he looked frustrated, he didn’t really look like he was about to corner you with a debate on the advantages of soda cans to soda bottles here.

When you two are safely in the nearly abandoned hall, he suddenly twists on his heels and looks back at you, “You can’t be the real (Y/N), can you?”

“What?” You’re even more confused, hands shoved into your pockets to hide their minute shaking. Being alone with Changkyun was not a good idea right now.

The boy throws his head back with a look of disbelief, “You- You’re not even trying to roast me when you see me anymore! I walk by and you don’t even acknowledge me. I give you several chances to smoke my ass and you miss them all, and when I try to start a conversation with you, it’s like I’m talking to a wall all of a sudden. What happened to the girl that used to jump at every chance to belittle me? I miss her.”

Missed you? Was he being serious right now? “Changkyun, you don’t know what you’re talking about right now.” “Like hell I don’t. I’d rather have the real you, shoving me into lockers and calling me names than whatever this shell of the real (Y/N) is. What’s going on that has you like this?”

“Changkyun, I-”

“Are our debates not stimulating enough? Do I bore you now?”

“Look, Changkyun-”

“Did I go too far one day, is that it? Tell me what it was that I said and I’ll apologize.”

“Kid-”

“And there you go, calling me kid. Come on, I know you have more in you than-” It’s your turn to cut Changkyun off this time, your hand shoving into the space between his abdomen and chest. All he can feel is his body stumbling backward before he’s enveloped into darkness, and soon, the both of you are in a pitch black room with only a sliver of light coming in from a small window in the top half of the wall behind the both of you. That block of sunlight is the only thing illuminating the shock on Changkyun’s face and the irritation on yours.

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, “People were watching, you idiot. They probably think we were in the middle of another ‘lover’s quarrel’.”

Changkyun freezes, “L-lover’s what?”

It takes you a moment to realize how you’ve got Changkyun. His back is pressed firmly to the cold concrete wall, his hands raised on either side of him in submission, and his eyes were blown wide, taking in every move of yours to better discern his level of safety at the moment. Your hand is still firmly pressed into his stomach, and he doesn’t dare to breathe too much around it. After a few seconds of the both of you staring each other down, you huff, “Everyone thinks we’re dating you know. And you really weren’t helping our case out there.”

“But… shoving me into a janitor’s closet in the middle of a fight helps more?”

You only realize your mistake when the undeniable smell of bleach and other chemicals make their way into your nostrils, and you let out a quiet hiss in disbelief. You had singlehandedly chosen the worst place to disappear to with several onlookers watching. You were screwed. News would spread about this faster than a bullet. “I wasn’t thinking about that part.” “Who’s the idiot now?”

You glare as Changkyun’s frown erupts into a full blown grin, glad to have somehow snatched the upper hand with you. “You missed me that much, huh?” You grumble.

“More than I thought I would… surprisingly, you kind of mean something to me, you know.” His admittance makes your cheeks burn and in turn, you have to look away to hide the blooming smile coming to your face. It really wasn’t a good idea for you to be alone with Changkyun right now.

But then again, you didn’t particularly care anymore either. I mean, if the moment presented itself, who were you to deny yourself?

“It’s probably been too long to just walk out and pretend nothing happened, right?” You ask with a hint of amusement in your voice. Changkyun lets out an over-exaggerated sigh, letting his hands glide down the wall and toward your sides instead. Your first instinct is to shove him away, until his fingers begin to rub along your hips in a pleasurably sweet way that has you inching a bit closer to the boy.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. And I mean… it’d be kind of lame if we were seen going into a janitor’s closet and had nothing to show for it.”

The tension between you had melted into something a lot more passionate, and instead of the once familiar need to put Changkyun into his place, you longed to do so in an entirely different way. Your hands shot to his that were stationed at your sides, and you pushed his wrists back into the cold wall with a little force, making the boy hiss a little at the contact, but otherwise simmer under your touch. His eyes fluttered shut as you pushed against him, a teasing smile on your face. It seemed, too, that Changkyun was feeling your need to dominate him, only this time, he did nothing to fight back.

He was putty in your hands, much like how you’d always wanted him to be at the end of every debate and quarrel. God, you two really were quite the pair, weren’t you?

“I’m going to win this time, Changkyun. But don’t make it too easy on me.”

There used to be no feeling in the world that could rival the pleasure of prevailing against someone you despised. You realized very quickly in that janitor’s closet that day that you had been monumentally out of your mind.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m up to the challenge.”

#mxnetwork #majwrites #changkyun scenarios #changkyun drabble #changkyun au #rival!changkyun #im changkyun #monsta x scenarios #monsta x drabbles #monsta x au #monsta x #changkyun fluff #monsta x fluff

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crimsonheart01 · 7 years

Text

Wake Up [Part IV] (Sam Winchester x Female!Reader)

A/N: And I’m done. Here’s to my first branch out into another fandom. I really, really, really hope I haven’t royally messed this up <3

Playlist: Closer (feat. Halsey) - The Chainsmokers

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

I startled awake, inhaling and coughing at the abrupt intake of oxygen. I blinked half a dozen times, trying to clear the drowsiness from my eyes. The street lights along the highway were still on but I could see the sun peaking over the horizon. I licked my lips, sniffling. It took me another minute to figure out that I was in a car. Panic rose in my chest while I tried to place myself. The radio was playing, but quiet enough that I could still make out the chug of the engine. That familiar sound rang true in my mind and I immediately calmed down. I remembered whose car I was in.

“Morning.” Dean spoke into the quiet.

I rolled my head in his direction, “What time is it?”

“Almost 6.”

I blinked once more, exaggerating the motion in order to process everything. I counted backwards, realizing that we’d been on the road for a good twelve hours now.

I rubbed the palm of my hands over my eyes, “Where’re we going?”

Dean didn’t answer. Instead he smiled. I sighed. Of course, he was going to be difficult. It was in his nature. Be as annoying as possible. I leaned back in my seat, letting my head loll back onto the head rest. I stared out the window, watching the greenery race by. I felt the excited flip in my stomach. I didn’t know where Dean was taking me, but I knew he’d bring me back to Sam. He always had his brother’s best interest in mind. I lifted my hand to brush a stray hair out of my face and stopped, zeroing in on the white lace still covering my arm. I snickered to myself. Dean had been in such a rush to get on the road that he didn’t even give me the chance to change. I glanced over at him and saw that he was still wearing the suit, so I didn’t feel all that bad. He’d kept himself as uncomfortable as I was.

I reminisced on the last 24 hours. How drastically everything had changed. There was no doubt in my mind that Derek had found my note and his ring. There wasn’t much to say. I wished him all the best and told him that he deserved to marry a woman who loved him unrequitedly. I was certain that he’d have learned that my family wasn’t dead. Only because as I was racing down the front steps with a duffel bag wrapped in my grip our neighbour was exiting their house at the same time. I had to lie, tell them I’d forgotten something of Derek’s and that Dean was being the helpful big brother. Dean being my brother wasn’t much of a lie. We still had the repertoire. No matter how much lost time lay between us.

My eyes began to droop so I snuggled in closer to the window, letting my head rest against it. Dean reached over, laying his hand on my shoulder, and squeezing lightly. I gazed over at him, a small smile on my face. He gave a quick nod and then his hand fell away. Dean was never a man of many words. He didn’t need to tell me. I knew he was proud. Proud of my decision to do the right thing. I flicked my gaze back out the window and let myself fall into a daze. The trees whizzed past the windows and my mind settled into a blank space. Sooner than I expected, I’d fallen back asleep.

~(SPN)~

Around an hour later I was being shaken awake.

“We’re here.” Dean told me.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and glancing around at the dead-end road. Surrounding the car were a few hills but nothing distinctly pointing to a destination. I shook my head, confused at what was going on.

I furrowed my brows and stared at Dean, “Where’s here?”

He laughed and opened the door. I followed him with my gaze and that’s when I spotted the random door protruding from the side of one of the hills. It had a shoddy metal fence up and around it, and the concrete looked to be at least a hundred years old. Another wall of concrete caught my eye and I realized that there was an entire fortress coming out of the hill. Where the hell had Dean brought me?

For a spilt second I panicked before clamping down on it. This wasn’t a time to freak out. My inner hunter surfaced and I was concerned that maybe I’d been too trusting. Was this really Dean? Or had he been possessed. All my red flags began popping up. Dean shot a look at me over his shoulder and noticed I was still sitting in the car, clutching my duffel bag. I frowned, and reached over to punch the lock down on the door. Dean sighed, knowing exactly why I was freaking out.

“Glove box.” He shouted, pointing to my side of the car, “Holy water, and salt.”

Without taking my gaze off him, I peeked out of the corner of my eyed and opened the glove box. I grabbed the flask in there, and the bottle of salt. I shook the flask to make sure there was liquid in there. I couldn’t trust that it was holy water but if the other container was salt, he wouldn’t be able to fool me. I flicked the cap off the salt container and dipped my finger it. I tasted the substance and nodded. It was salt. I poured the entire contents into the flask and shook it up. I rolled down the window enough to fit the flask through and he grabbed it before it fell to the ground. With a grand roll of his eyes, he took a swig from the metal bottle. He made a show of visibly swallowing the salted holy water and then stared at me.

I grinned when his eyes didn’t blacken. I pushed my door open and he shook his head at me over the roof of the car.

I shrugged, “Can never be too safe.”

He shoved the flask into his jacket pocket and made his way towards the ominous door in the middle of nowhere. Using a key off his car keychain he unlocked it. He stepped through the threshold and held the door open, waiting for me to come through. I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and followed behind him. Dean let go of the door and it swung shut behind me with a resounding slam. I raised my eyebrows up at him and he grinned.

“Welcome to the Bunker.” He introduced.

I noticed the long, thin balcony we were currently on. I leaned over the railing and studied the room below. It was reminiscent of something out of a WWII movie. I shook my head in disbelief. I didn’t know how they found this place, but it was equipped.

“How the hell did you find this place?” I mumbled, more to myself than anything.

Dean stopped, halfway down the stairs and graced me with a brilliant smile, “We’re Men of Numbers.”

I blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“Men of Letters.” He repeated.

I nodded, “Oh yeah, thanks. That clarifies everything.”

He continued his descent laughing out loud at me. I followed down behind him, grumbling to myself.

He pointed straight ahead of him, “Library’s through there.”

I nodded, following his direction towards the room. I gazed back at him and noticed he wasn’t following.

He inclined his head towards one of the hallways, “I’ll be right back.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but figured he was going on the search for Sam. No one had come out to greet us so I was under the assumption that he wasn’t here.

I hopped up the steps and leaned against the entryway of the library. This place was impressive. I dropped my bag down on the floor and meandered around. I ran my fingers along the table in the center of the room. There were a bunch of books opened to various pages, notes scribbled down all over the place and empty beer bottles scattered around. This was obviously where they did their research. I rounded the table and picked up one of the leather-bound volumes. It was old, but it was still in English. I flipped through the pages, noticing the intricate drawings within it. My perusal was interrupted when I heard the scuff of shoes at the entrance and figured it was Dean coming back with food, or to tell me where I could shower and change. I hoped for the latter.

“I didn’t know you could read.” I quipped, knowing that it would bother Dean to make fun of him.

“You know,” A different voice than I expected answered, “They had been a little worried about my illiteracy at Stanford but I managed to muscle my way through.”

My head whipped up at the sound of his voice and I found myself staring at Sam. I froze. Now that I was face to face with him I was terrified. What if he wasn’t ready for this. What if I’d made an equally massive mistake by coming here? When I saw him last week I essentially told him to screw himself.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, failing epically at addressing the fact that I’d walked out on my own wedding.

Sam took a step into the room, “He said something about needed to take his monkey suit off.”

His answer trailed off as he continued to advance on me. I dropped the book back onto the table but held myself still. I realized again for the second time that morning how ridiculous I looked. I was still wearing my gown. I’d forgone the veil but I was still dressed like a bride. I breathed out, puffing my cheeks in the process. I wasn’t ready for this. I thought I was, but I wasn’t. My heart rate raced while I fought to keep my breathing normal.

Sam circled around the table with slow and steady steps. It appeared that he was taking precaution, worried that if he stormed over I’d run. It was almost like I wasn’t real to him. Not yet. When he reached no farther than a few feet from me he stopped. He remained motionless. He was waiting for me. I understood why. I’d only just told him he was too late. That what we had was gone. He needed me to make the first move.

“Sammy.” I whispered.

I watched as his pupils dilated when his name fell from my mouth. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. I took one step towards him and with the that the momentum caught me and I was speeding towards him. My arms opened and I grabbed onto his shoulders. I pressed my mouth against his, forgetting about all my qualms. I just wanted him. I wanted this life back. He responded in kind. Both of us frantic in our ministrations. His hands clutched at my lower back, while my nails dug into the shoulder blades on his back. His tongue snuck out, running along my lower lip. I responded with a moan, opening my mouth to him. He caught my lip between his teeth. I whimpered, wanting to have all of him immediately. Comprehending the direction of my thoughts I broke away from him.

I held myself close to him. He leaned down into me, relaxing his forehead against mine. Our gazes locked and we both smiled. Both of our breathing was haggard. We stood in silence catching out breath. I reveled at the feel of his solid form beneath my hands. I never thought this would happen again. I had prepared myself to spend the rest of my life living without him. My fingers contracted against him and he let out a small huff. One of the hands he had placed on my back smoothed up my arm and hook around my neck.

“I missed you.” He murmured.

I grinned, this was the Sammy I remembered. The sweet and gentle one. I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair.

“It’s longer.” I commented.

He chuckled and nodded. I stretched up on my tip toes and pushed another kiss to his mouth which he responded too. Our little moment was interrupted when a heavy set of footsteps clamoured into the room.

“Hate to break up the reunion, but I figured your girlfriend might want a chance to change.” Dean’s voice came filtering through.

We pulled away from each other. Sam turned to his brother, smiling from ear-to-ear. Dean rolled his eyes but we could all see the hidden smile underneath his mock annoyance. Sam snaked his fingers through mine, pulling me towards the entry way. I followed close after him, Dean backing down the steps and into the main room. He swept down to scoop up my bag and then turned to back to me. He stopped, his smile faltering. I pulled my brow in, concerned by the sudden change in his behaviour. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it again without a word. I tilted my head to the side when I was hit with understanding. I licked my lips, dropping my head down to compile all the things I wanted to say. In the end I decided that this wasn’t the time. We could hash out our differences later. Right now, I just wanted to be here, with him, and Dean.

I glanced back up and beamed softly at him, “Later.”

He nodded with comprehension and tugged me forward. His arms engulfed me and I took a deep breath in. I memorized his scent. One that I had never been able to forget. Be let go too quickly but grabbed my hand again.

“Come on.” He pulled me forward, “Let me give you the tour.”

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #spn #spn imagines #spn imagine

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