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#i wanna listen to all the weird bullshit i can get my hands on okay
cherrymaybank · 7 months ago
Tell Me Your Favorite Song - Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader High School!AU (18+)
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Requested: Reader is in a shitty relationship and she hooks up with Owen before breaking up with her shitty boyfriend. Then the boyfriend goes to a show to win her back, and they're playing a song titled her name including the lyrics “I fucked your girlfriend”
Warnings: Smut, swearing, unhealthy relationship
Words: 3107
Summary: Your inattentive boyfriend is falling inferior to a certain drummer from your AP Lit class, who wants to get to know you better inside and out.
A/N: Despite being in high school, all characters in this fic are 18+. DNI IF YOU ARE NOT 18+. This is semi-self indulgent bc it was inspired by but not directly derived from a request so. This IS a part 1 and I will be writing more parts in the future. FEAR NOT!
Part 2
“Babe?” The sound of my boyfriend’s voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts. I thought I loved Peter but he doesn’t seem to really know me. We’ve been dating for almost eight months and he doesn’t really know what I like or don’t like to do, eat, wear, listen to--none of that stuff. At least not in the way a boyfriend should.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, coming back to my senses.
“I was thinking… to celebrate your birthday on Sunday we could go catch that new movie ‘The Morgue’ and then go surfing afterward.”
“I don’t like scary movies,” I state for the fifth time since we’ve started dating.
“You don’t?”
“Yes. I’ve told you this before. And I don’t even own a surfboard.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a terrible boyfriend.”
“That’s not what I meant-”
“Forget it. I’ll see you at lunch,” he pulls his hand out of mine and storms off to first period, leaving me to walk to class alone. I’m standing in front of the entrance to Loz Feliz High, dumbstruck by the reaction my comment warranted. Does he really think he’s a terrible boyfriend because of what I said?
“Yikes. You okay?” Turning around, I see Owen Joyner. The rock and roll drummer of the band Radical Dreams, and the only person in my first period AP Lit class that has an A- other than myself.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure? He seemed pretty pissed that you didn’t wanna go surfing.”
“I guess he was… Wait, how did you know what we were talking about?” I ask pointedly. Owen sharply averts his gaze from mine, watching the passersby instead of having to look at me.
“Uh, wanna walk to class together?” I sigh out a laugh in response to his erratic behavior. I begin walking to class, setting the pace for the two of us.
“Did you do the reading last night?”
“No.” Owen smiles at my confession before responding.
“I didn’t either.”
“It’s not like she’ll know anyway. You and I bullshit better responses than other kids would give if they dedicated their lives to studying the passage.” My exaggeration makes Owen laugh so hard he nearly drops the pair of drumsticks I didn’t realize he was holding until now.
“That’s probably true. Hey, we have sixth period together, too...”
“That we do,” I confirm, although the rhyming was unintentional.
“If things are still weird with you and Peter after lunch, I can walk you out to your car.” A small smile destructs my previously confused expression. As he awaits my reply, Owen flashes me a nervous smile and I feel my face flush. I’ve never noticed how opalescent his teeth are. And I’ve never taken notice of the way dainty strands of his golden blonde hair flutter around his face. Or how his lashes eloquently frame his glassy green eyes. Or how soft his rosy cheeks and lips must be.
“I didn’t bring my car today, Peter gave me a ride.”
“Well, I can give you a ride if things are still weird?”
“...You can give me a ride even if things aren’t still weird.” And with that, I enter the classroom and find my seat in the middle row without sparing Owen a second glance.
This is wrong. I can’t fall for Owen. I can’t be falling for Owen. He’s gonna make it huge as a rockstar and I’m probably going to be stuck in a job based in LA for the rest of my life. I mean we still have to the end of high school if anything were to happen. No. Nothing is going to happen because I’m with peter and he loves me. I shouldn’t be flirting with anyone when I have a boyfriend who loves me... Does he love me?
The question lingers in my mind all throughout the next three periods when finally, the dreaded lunch period arrives. I enter the outdoor cafeteria seating and don’t hesitate as I strut toward my usual table. Peter and all his basketball friends are standing around the table but not sitting down.
“What’s going on?” I ask once I’m close enough for them to notice me.
“Y/n, Spud needs to go talk to coach, do you wanna come with us?”
“You all need to go?” Peter confirms and I’m skeptical of the entire starting team needing to go with, but I know when to pick my battles. Peter leans down to kiss my cheek before the bunch of them disappear into the crowded hallway. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Sighing to myself, I set my backpack down on the table and fish out my lunch and homework. If I have to be alone might as well be productive. Halfway through the first question of my Lit packet, I hear a familiar voice to the right.
“Hey, Y/n!” Looking up from my homework, I spot Charlie as optimistic as ever.
“I don’t know if you want to or not, but you should come sit with us. If you want.” He’s rambling but he’s adorable.
“Oh, I don’t wanna intrude-”
“You wouldn’t! It was actually Owen’s idea to invite you over!”
“But he sent you?”
“He was too nervous to ask, so I decided to do it for him.” The thought of Owen being nervous around me makes me smile for some reason. Maybe I’m too optimistic.
“Yeah. Okay. Give me a second to clean up and I’ll be right over.” Charlie nods and skips into a jog to head back to Radical Dreams’ usual table. I need to think of a conversation starter before heading over otherwise I’m just gonna be a silent, anxious mess and they’ll never invite me to sit with them ever again. No one cares to share their favorite holiday. I don’t know anyone with a favorite car brand. Oh. Duh! They’re musicians I can just ask about their music.
“Y/n!” Jeremy and Taylor practically cheer when I arrive.
“Hey, guys.” Before I can bust out my premeditated conversation starter, Charlie jumps in to speak.
“What’s your favorite song, Y/n?” I’m a bit taken aback by his question, but I oblige and tell them my favorite song and why it’s my favorite song. All four of them smile and attentively listen to what I have to say. Halfway through my explanation, I trail off in a sense of shock. I can’t remember the last time anyone has cared this much about what I have to say. It makes me realize how fake the friends I have are. It also makes me realize that maybe I shouldn’t be withPeterafterall.
“You okay?”
“What? Yeah! I’m good, I just…”
“...Just what?” Owen asks when I trail off once more.
“I was just thinking is all.”
“About what?” Charlie asks after taking a bite of his food.
“Nothing. But as I was saying,” And once I continue telling them about my favorite song, I make the decision right then and there: I’m breaking up with Peter tomorrow. It’s Friday today so I can ask him to lunch tomorrow, and have the morning to figure out what I want to say… What do I want to say?
It’s been about fifteen minutes since school ended and Owen still isn’t here. I’m sitting on the concrete stairs in front of the school, waiting, as a few freshman stragglers shuffle by to be picked up in their parents’ busted minivans.  
As I decide I’m gonna give him a few more minutes and then I’m walking, Owen jogs around the corner and comes to a screeching stop, looking slightly panicked. When he sees me sitting on the centermost bench, his face softens and he sends me a happy smile. All of my previous negative energy is dissolved by the warm look Owen is showing me.
“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Charlie just needed a favor but we’re good now.”
“Cool.” Owen simply stares at me as he catches his breath, so I decide to head to the parking lot and have him follow. Otherwise, we’d never leave.
“What was the favor?”
“Huh?” he seems caught off guard by my question.
“Charlie. What was the favor he needed from you?”
“Oh. It’s nothing.” Owen then opens the passenger door to a silver prius, and ushers me into the seat. I’m a bit surprised by the gesture which is just another reminder for how downhill my relationship with Peter has gone.
I don’t live all that far from Los Feliz so it only takes a short while before we arrive at my house. Our conversation simmers into an antsy silence and the only sound in the car is the static of the radio we’ve both tuned out for the whole ride.
“We should hang out more.”
“Just the two us or would we invite the rest of the band?”
“Both,” I shrug carelessly, but secretly hope Owen understands I want to spend more time with him. As we’re sitting in the driveway, I recall my parents are both at work at the moment.
“...My parents aren’t home… if you wanted to hang out right now.” Please majestic powers from above, pull through.
“Okay.” Owen shuts off the ignition and we clamber out of his car, into my quaint LA home.
“Would you want to watch a movie or…?” I try and gauge what Owen wants to be entertained by.
“I was wondering if we could listen to your favorite song?” The idea practically melts my heart and I lead Owen upstairs to my bedroom. I haphazardly toss my backpack on the ground and begin digging through my electronics to find my speaker. As I try and turn it on, the power hub blinks red signifying it’s out of battery.
“What’s up?”
“My speaker is dead.”
“It’s okay, we can just listen to it on my phone.”
“No, the phone speaker doesn’t perfectly balance the bassline with the melody,” I sigh, grasping at straws for a solution. “I guess we can use headphones.”
Plopping down on my neatly made bed--thank you morning Y/n-- Owen lays back to stare at my ceiling. Once I pull up the song, I hand Owen an earphone and lay down next to him to put the other earbud in my ear.
When I look at Owen, I see his eyes are closed. He’s really taking in the music. Nodding with the downbeat, the crease of his brows pinch with concentration. The amount of focus he’s putting into the song warms my heart, and at that moment I decide I need to break up with Peter ASAP. Picking up my phone, I unlock it and take a deep breath before opening my messages.
Hey let’s meet for dinner tomorrow evening to talk. I wanna be completely transparent and say I think we should break up, if you don’t want to talk that’s fine but I want to offer a space for you to get an explanation for why
I set my phone back down on the bed. The end of the song prompts Owen to look at me with a smile.
“That was incredible.”
“Right? I love that song so much.”
“I think I do too. You’ll have to make me a playlist of all your favorite songs so I can get to know you even better.”
“Do you really want that?”
“Hell yeah. That was a slap.” I laugh at Owen’s word choice and sigh into a monotony of happiness.
“It’s pretty similar to the music that inspires Radical Dreams’ sound.”
“No way. I never realized how similar we might be after all.”
“Yeah... We’re, uh, we’re playing a set tomorrow at this little pub venue if you wanted to come?”
“That sounds like so much fun, I’d love to go!”
“Cool.” After a brief moment of staring into one another’s eyes, Owen breaks the silence that settled over my bedroom.
“Who were you texting?” Oh gosh.
“I heard you send a message in the middle of the song, I was just wondering who it was.” Moment of truth I guess.
“That was, uhm… that was Peter.” Owen’s demeanor shifts from calm and content to rattled and confused.
“I see.”
“Yeah… I broke up with him… technically.”
“Technically?” he asks incredulously.
“I told him I wanted to break up. We’re talking out the details tomorrow over dinner.” Owen nods in understanding, but I can still see some gears turning in his brain.
“So, if you’re technically broken up… does that mean… can I- kiss you? Right now?”
A flurry of excitement swims around my stomach as Owen leans in to passionately kiss me. Our eyes flutter shut as we lean in, and once our lips connect, he brings a hand up to gently hold my chin between his thumb and his forefinger. The eagerness of the kiss is unrivaled as his lips move tenderly with mine. Bringing my hands up to hold the sides of his face, I deepen the kiss further. Owen adjusts himself on the bed and pulls me over to straddle his lap. Before I sit down, I’m kneeling with my legs on either side of his hips, causing him to tilt his head up to keep his mouth on mine. From this position of kissing Owen from above, I run my hands through his perfect hair, and he trails his hands from the sides of my waist, up the skin of my back, moving my shirt up in the process.
As his hands come back down my body to settle on my hips, he pulls me to sit down in his lap, fully pressing my clothed heat onto him. Owen sighs at the feeling and provides me with the opportunity to run my tongue against the curve of his lower lip. Humming a soft ‘wait’ into my mouth, we mutually break the kiss and I open my eyes at the same time as him.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the top of my exposed hipbone.
“Yes,” I whisper. And with that, I crawl off of Owen as the both of us frantically strip off our clothes. Two shirts and two pairs of jeans are piled on the floor beneath my bed, leaving us in only our underwear. My bra and panties don’t match today but they’re both cute on their own, so that’s a win more or less.
“You're gorgeous,” Owen sighs as he pulls me back in for another kiss. I move to take off my bra but Owen stops me. “Keep it.”
I don’t question his command but simply tangle one hand back into his hair, and drape the other over his toned shoulder. If being a drummer isn’t hot enough, the muscles you get from doing it are even hotter.
“Hold on,” I give Owen one last peck before slipping off the bed and digging into my discarded backpack. Opening the smallest compartment, I pull out a condom from my days of sneaking around in Peter’s car.
“You have condoms in your school bag? How naughty, Y/n.”
“Shut up,” I roll my eyes before joining Owen back on the bed. “At least I have condoms.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t,” he quips back and flashes a teasing smile. I see Owen glance behind me for a brief moment which prompts me to question his gaze.
“What are you looking at?”
“I wanna fuck you facing that mirror.” I have to say I’m stunned by his boldness, but I’m turned on by it even more.
“You do?”
“Come here.” Pulling me into his line of sight, Owen settles behind me as we both face my floor mirror. Without breaking eye contact through our reflections, Owen slips one arm around my waist and brings the other to slowly pull down my soaking panties. Reaching down, he delicately slides a finger over my folds, and collects a bit of my arousal on the tip of his finger. Trailing the moisture upwards, he drags the wetness over the swell of my clit, rubbing the spot with a feather-light touch. I breathe out a moan and leans my head back to rest my head on his right shoulder. Now I understand why he’s got a hold of my torso: he knows exactly how to pleasure a girl and soon enough, I’ll need all the support I can get.
“See, I love this: the way I can control you with the lightest touch. But the real fun...” Rubbing his finger over my clit one last time, Owen slips his hand down further, and expertly slides his middle finger inside of me.
“The real fun starts here.” As he finishes his sentence, Owen curls his finger just right to stimulate the spot that has me crying out in pleasure. With his right arm still around my body, his left hand is back to rubbing my quivering pearl.
“This way I’ve got my light touch keeping you under my control, and-” he inserts his ring finger with his middle as they curl inside of me, “You’re completely helpless when I know how to use the inside clit.”
My breathing picks up and my soft moaning becomes repetitive like the melody to a love song.
“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look in my eyes as you come undone.” I nearly finish at the sound of his words, but will my eyes to open, first catching a glimpse of my own euphoric appearance. I connect eyes with Owen. It takes a mere few seconds for the pleasure of his fingers to overtake me. When I finally finish, I reach down to force Owen to stop his movements over my swollen clit. His fingers still inside of me but he doesn’t take them out yet.
The aftershock of my orgasm lasts another few seconds and I don’t release Owen’s hand from my grasp. Not yet.
“Has Peter ever been able to make you cum like that?” He almost challenges. I can’t tell if it’s jealousy or arrogance but whatever it is, I’m enjoying it.
“No, he hasn’t,” I confirm just to boost his ego.
“Figures. See, I can tell because of the way your pussy is still pulsing.” The pointed read causes me to laugh humorlessly. More than anything, I’m embarrassed at how quickly I had come undone. Without warning, Owen removes his fingers which makes me yelp because the sensitivity has yet to subside.
“Ooh. Sensitive, are we?”
“Fuck you,” I spit, bitter with contempt.
“You will.”
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